The Sumter banner. (Sumterville, S.C.) 1846-1855, May 31, 1853, Image 1
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?v IN. A.4,j
DEVOTED TO SOUTHIN RIGHTS, DEMOCRAUY, NEWS, LITERATURE SCIENCE AND THE ATS
. RIC IARDSON LOGAN, TERpr--Two
wim. J. FRANCIS, Propritors. O *r * 0c R
VOL. VII. SUMTERVILLE, S. C., MAY 31, 183.N
room of the Salem Custom louse.
Here was the tragedy! The barrels
in the corner might excite specula
tions as to their contents; but the re
iuits of a man's life of thoughtful of
,ort, passing to decay unseen and
unappreciated, suggested many a
;ad and profound reflection; fnd, with
) tender pity, I laid my hand upon
his neglected child of the poor
Frenchmen's toil, along whose wood
3n frame and wire nerves the liv
ng spirit of his thoughts had passed.
Quitting the chamber, I accomlpa
nied my friends to the Court
I-louse; where we were soon busi
ly occupied with the object of our vis
it. Most eagerly did we turn ov
er the sheets of yellow, tine-stained
paper, patiently decipherings re
cords written in a cramped and an
-ient hand. Here we read depositions
,s to the most extraordinary bewitch.
ments of cattle, the casting of divers
persons into grievous fits by the ap.
pearance (as the supposed demon
was termed) of those accused, the
torturing theo with pins, and many
:ther diabolical appliances of the
black art. We were shown a
large bottle full of the very pins,
now rusty and discoloured, which
had been taken from the bodies of
those afllicted. Of the occurrence of
ill which I saw chronicled here, I
iad heard, read, and believed; but
in things which partake so much of
the supernatural and improbable, un
til confronted by their positive evi
kences, we are scarcely able to feel
:heir actuality. But here, in my
;ight, were the very pages record
ng words that had sworn away
lives which, in these days of our bet.
ter knowledge,-we must pronounce to
be guiltless of their alleged offences.
Ind many were the thoughts and
guestions they irrestibly forced upon
me. Who, in tlVose mixed assem
blages .of juages, witn'esses, and
the accused, were the deceived par
ties? Were all alike resting un
dier the same dark shadow of super
stition? We find men holding re
3ponsible positions,-amongst whom
we expect to meet with some of the
best intelligences of their tine--ol
mnnly conducting examinations, is
suing committals. and women, as
well as young persons down to fif
teen or sixteen years of age, inaking
lepositions of a character so ab.
3urd, that we should call them laugh
ible did we not remember hn
man lives were staked on them. We
:annot think that so miany peo
ple, from malice or conscious ill-in
tent, could invent such statement;
iither can we understand how they
:ould possibly have believed what
-hey say; or, if they did, by what pro
"ess of the imagination they were
wrought to such a pitch of fantaist
e illusion. It is all a troubled mys
tery.
We ascertained that these pa
ges consisted of fragments of many
xaninations, besides of the death
warrants of the unhappy so-called
wizards andl witches; but we did
not find anything ver-y distiientive to
lix dur attention for some time, as
the evidence and accusations wer-e
for the most part the same in all. At
ast we took up a pa per- headed "T'he
examination or Sussanrnah Martin.
NMay 2, 1692." The replies of tins
poor woman, stand up for her life a
gainst a terrible array of ignoranco
and superstition, surprised us by
the evidence they gave of the
clearest prudence and self-posses
sion in a moment of such imnmi
nent trial. My friend remarked to
me, "This paper corr-obor-ates the 01)
inion I expressed a few minutes ago:
-that the men and women who suf
fered dur-ing this period, were those
whose higher mental gifts and great
er breadth of character, placed be
yond the unde-standing of the com
mon natures around them." Thle doc
ument ran thus
The examination of Susannah Mar
tin, May 2, 1G1)2:
As soon as she came into the meet
ing-house many persons fell into fits.
Judge. hIath this, woman hurt
you?
Abigail Williams said, " It is
Goody Martin; she hiath hurt mec of
ten."
Others by fits wvere hindered from
speaking.
Eliza Hubbard said she had not
hurt her.
John Indian said ho never saw
lher.
Mcry Levis npointe t er nd
MISCELLANEOUS.
A 'agie fsom A Sad Book.
In the wintcr of 1851 I left Phila
delphia, at that time my place of
residence in tho United States, to
make a abort stay in Boston. My
acquaintance with Boston is but
slight; for I visited it during a pe
riod of cheerless cold, heightened by
the c6nstant prevalence of cast
winds; and my own-engagements pre
vented many wandlerings. One ex.
dursion, however, which I took in
its viciiity, put me in possession of
a document which I think may
prove not uninteresting to the read
ers of "Household Words."
About fifteen miles from Bos.
ton stands Salem, which will now be
known to many through Nathaniel
Hawthorne's introduction to the
"Scarlet Letter." In this story, al
lusion is made to the belief in witch
craft, which, nearly two centuries
ago, spread like an epidemic not on
ly over portions of England and
the Enropean contindnt, but also in
those far off colonies; and, most
virulently of all, in the now unimpdr
tant little town of -Salem. Hearing
that in the court-house of Salem a
few records of the -examination of
-eome of the victims of a wild and
-destructive superstition were per.
'mitted to be een, I was glad to have
:the opportuiity -of accompanying a
'Friend on a short visit to the town.
Our first visit was to the Cus
'om House. We found it exactly as
-lescribed by Hawthorne-a dreary
looking brick building, very much
,out of repairi the paint-work worn
and dingy, and the grass growing in
the chinks of :The stones around it,
rather conveying the idea of a de
aerted mansion of faded gentility, than
an office in 'which some little segment
o-aail-busnets was .aily being'
nsisacted.' We frst enterce a
room on the ground-floor, in whic.
a number of official-looking person
ages were assembled, at that time ap
parently not very actively employ
ed; and, in one or two of whom I
fancied I recognised some resem
blance to those very respectable fix
tures of Government service Haw
thorno unceremoniously introduced
to the public. As in his days of
surveyorship, the floor was thick
1y strewn with grey sand; but,
in place of a stove, an immense pile of
wood logs was blazing and crackling
o4 the hearth; casting around the
most cheerful and inspiring glow. Af
ter warming ourselves for a fcw
moments, we ascended to the sec
ond story.
The room we entered was a
large, unfinishment, covered with
the dust of years, and serving no oth
er purpose than that of a lumber
room. It was a strange, suggestive
place; a chamber for ghost revels, in
which you could not long remain
without raising mental ghosts for
yourself. In one corner several bar
rels were piled, in which had
been stowed papers filled with curi
ous records of the judicial and
business doings of past generations.
Scattered over the floor, with a
hetqrogeneous collection of odds
n -*d'ends from all parts of' the world;
1,oxes, the mystery of whose dust hid
.den contents I vainly endeavoured
:to penetrate; veritable Tur-kishi
,pipes; canes from the wide cane
brakes of the Southirn States; a
bag of dates and some bottles of
,swcet Eastern wine (to the good
,quality of both which I can testi
fy); several beautiful sea-shells; a
Jarge square of tapestry; one of'
Raphael's cartoons, which had been
'brought over from Palermo. Last
ly a strange-looking musical instru
mnent, now, for the first time for
a long period, opened for us to in
epect. It was broken into one or
two pieces, was otherwise woefully
damaged, and was covered with
dust. It had been the property of
a poor Frenchman, who had spent ma
ny years in conceiving and work
ing out what was now a melan
choly wvreck; but which, in its per
fect state, had been an -ingenious
piece of mechanism, in which a num
ber of little automaton figures ap
peared to be the active agents in
producing the music. The French
man accomplished his labour-, had
Sjust begun to exhibit it to the world
Sanid .to reap the harvest of his
patienee and skill, when he died; and
by some chance, it had been sent to
fulto picoa in the obscure lumber.
fell into a fit.
Ann Putnam throw her glove in a
fit at her.
The examinant laughed.
Judge. What! do you laugh al
it ?
Susaunah. Well I may at snec
folly.
Judge. Is this folly to see these
so hurt ?
Susannah. I never hurt man,
woman, or child.
"Mercy," Lewis cried out, "she
hath hurt me a great many times,
and plucks me down !"
Then Martin laughed again.
Mary Walcot said this woman hurt
her a great many times.
Susannah Seldon also accused her
of hurting her.
Judge. What do you say to this?
Su8annah. I have no hand in
witchcraft.
Judg1e. What did you do ? Did
you consent these should be hurt ?
Susannah. No, never in my life.
Judge. What ails these people ?
Susannah. I do not know.
Judge But what do you think ails
them ?
Susannah. I do not desire to
spend my judgmncut upon it.
Judge. Do you think they are
bewitched ?
Susannah. I do not think they
are.
Judge. But tell us your thoughts
about them.
Susannnh. My thoughts are mint
own when they are in, but when they
are out they are another's.
Judge. Who do you think are
their master,?
Susannah. If they be dealing in
the Black At t you may know as well
as I.
Judge. What have you dcne to
wards the hurt of these ?
Susangab. I have done nothing.
Judge. Why it is yoU, or youi
appearance.
Susannah. I cannot help it.
Judge. That may be your mastei
that hurt them ?
Susannah. I desire to lead my
life according to the Word of God P
Judge. Is this 'according to th<
Word of God ?
Susannah. If I were such a per
son. I would tell you the truth.
Judge. How comes your ap
pearance just now to hurt these ?
Susannah. How do I know.
Judge. Are you not willing tc
tell the truth.
Susannah. I cannot tell: he wh<
appeared in Samucl's shape, a glori
fied shape, can appear in any one's
shape.
Judge. Do you believe these af
flieted persons do not say true ?
Susannah. They may lie for augh
I know.
Judge. May not you lie ?
Susannah. I dare not tell a lie il
it would save my life.
Judge. Then you will speak the
the truth, will you e
Susannah. I have spoken nothing
else :I would do themn any good.
Judge. I do not think you hav<
such ahlection for those whom yot
just now insinuated had the Devil fi
their master.
The marshal wvho stood b'y hei
said she pinched her hands, and
Eliza Ihubbard was immediately af
Ilieted.
Several of the afflicted said the)
sa .v her on the beam.
Judgre. P'ray God discover yor
if' you be guilty!/
Susannah. Amen, amen ! A
false tongue will never make a guilt)
"You havo been a long time corn
ing to the court to day," said Mere3
Lewis; "you can come fast eniougl
in the night.''
A few lines of the manuscript wer<
here rather unintelligible.
John Indian fell into a fit, an<
cried it was that woman. "She bites
She bites !"
And then said Martin was bitin;
her lbps.
Judge. Ihave you not comnpas
sion on these afflicted ?
Susannanh. No; I havo none !
Th'ley cried out, there was thii
black nmn along with her; an<
Goody Bibber confirmed it. Abigai
Williams went towards her, but couh
not come near her. Nor Good,
Bibber, though she had not accuse(
her before. Also, Mary Walco
could not come near her.
John Indiam naid be woulrd kill ho
if he came near her, but, lie fell
down before he could touch her.
Judge. What is the reason these
cannot come near you ?
Susannah. I cannot tell: it may
be that the Devil bears me more
malice than another.
Judge. Do you not see God evi
dently discovering yoi?
Susannah. No; not a bit of that.
Judge. All th'q congregation be.
sides, think so.
Susannah. Let,them think what
they will.
Judge. What is the reason they
cannot come to you ?
Susannah. I do not know; but
they can if they will; or else, if you
please, I will come to them.
Judge. What was that the black
man whispered to you?
Susannah. There was none whis
pered to me.
Here ends this fiagment of exam
ination. WIe carefully turned over
all the papers in the hope of finding
some-further account of it, but met
with nothing more respecting Susan
nah Martin save her death-warrant,
of which I much regret I did not-also
obtain a copy. The glimpse we had
had of her, however, had sufficed to
aroue our warmest sympathies,\ and
to leave in us a strong desire to learn
more of a woman,,: whose truthful
soul, in the midst of pen'r], shone out
so calmly superior jo. its dark. and
inalignant surroundings. A few dlays
after this visit I quitted the neighbor
hood of Boston, carrying with me two
distinct remembranets, at least-the
poor Frenehman's Imusical instru
mont, and the replies of the martyr
ed Witch of Salem.
The Bear itnd the-Roar.
A PRAaTICAL iOta.
The following amuiising scene was
related to -1he np1t r...Cfipsioing
L-l . .' one tA i-t in it
Z'r 'ii a on %telkinIL
were erossing,' says he. 'the
vast pine forests of Califtoria. so re
markable for the absolute silence wihich
reigns under their vaults. One day: as
we approached the edge of one of those
immense gladei with which these soi
bre forests are pierced, and where the
resinous trees yield to other fragant
scets, we heard quite near us a growl.
ing, w hich seemed to come from above
our heads, and which my companion,
a WeStern hunter of the old stock. re
ognisCd at the first note for the voice
(of a heatr; and we fori hwith iriide our
selves small, and glided through the
buishwood to try to discover the plice
where the animinal was perched.
'A seconi growl of ange'r, deeper
tonled than tle first, and which seemed
to be 1 dbl Iiwed y 1V another grow% I of in
teriilr sathdh:ietioi, cal ls ou' ees .
a gigan1tie persimiuion, situated
y'n3tIs Inl
auttweity yardst from u1S, anld whose
buh and11 shadei are the scene of a
coriial draia.
'Tle two personlages whose Colver
sution we have caught a few phrases in
"Ur passage are a bear and a wild boar.
Tile first, a gentleman of the largest
size, is percdied on a great branch of
the persiminen, and is eargerly oceu
pied with gateing the pim m ons.
But, tie fit being perfectly rip.. III in
adh lerinig qite loosely to thiir stemi s,
it hiappien s that the miost del ic'ious dei i
e'ions iiill Iike' hail on thegroiunid at the
least sliake thait the heavy anim;ial givyes
the bhotugh, whieb greatly discomiiits the
hear' andii provo kes fromi him o (aths of
impijatiencee, but for the samte reason
chai~rmis thle wild boar epiiicr, posted at
te fbot ofi the tree, andii uh at each
shiower' f' persin01on, inaoni fet's his
siatistaetuion by a very dlecidled grunt.
uplon the scene, thle ir'ri tat io n oif thle
ber had al readyl risen oi (eerry
red, andi~ it was easy to peceivye that
it would not lie long in reiichiing a
w hi te heat. '(Ohl! ani excessively pleas
alit idea,' whisp ers the spirituail child of
TVennessee inito myl e ar. 'Suippose we
prolit byv the cord ial ill-will thait these
two h easts h ear eaich othier. tio set them
(in a dleathi fight .' ilow?' 'Is't us
see': the mtod is very simp11 le; onue of
your two ba:9rrels is lo':iaedi with
smoall shot -just put it fhr me1 in
the0 fleshiest part of that 1ellow's
body;' and1( he poinltedl with his
finger through the leaves at where I
should hit.
I knhew the beair,' added lie, 'when
lhe lhas got tone ideal in his hea'id, lie hats
nlot got it, anty where else, anld as
h~e haes bieen wishiing muchldi harm'l to
that boar for' thle last qularter of
an hon r, noi one will per'suiade him i but
w hat it is the wild boar' that, hias
shot at him u, and thlen youil will
see him i jump upomn thle suip'posed ag.
grecssor, and take vengeanice for
the bloody' joke.'
'I tell you we shall have a laugh.'
Quick dlone as said, I tickle the
hairy beast, in the right spot. Trho
beast has hardly felh himsclf sum, tbn
he gives himself up to his fury, and
falls like a bombshell upon the un
fortunate boar, not less innocent of
the fault than surprised at the ag;
gression. The duel did not last
long. The conquering hear prostrated
his rival and set about tearing him
to pieces, but affected not to per
ceive that his enemy, before dving,.
had opened his side with' a terri
ble gash of his tusks. His strength
soon deserts him however, and
he totters and double up on the body of
the slain boar. 'And it is thus,' mod
estly concludes the narrator, 'that I
have acquired the right to boast of
having killed a black bear and a
wild boar at one shot, and with No. 7!"
A Quarterly Return.
The papers have teemed for weeks
with repeated accounts of disasters by
field and flood. Tlie frequency of
these so-called accidents has not di
verted attention from the causes which
induced the catastrophes, but the inter
est centring in one even has hardly ar
rived at its climax before the occur
rence of something else, even more
terrible in its nature, brings up a new
subject fur painful meditation. The
results of the numerous collisions,
burnings, and explosions which have
taken place during the quarter are
frightful. Tne causes of the disasters,
doubtless. are mainly attributed to
carelessness. In the coses of the Inde
pendence, the Jenny Lind, the William
and Mary, and the Tennessee, on the
water; and in those of Few Haven,
Erie, and Michigan railroads, the negli
gence of captains, engineers, and
agents was vecry clearly indicated. In
one or two of these iustances an at
tempt has beetynade to hold the par
ties responsible, and this is particular.
ly the case with the railroads in Michi
gan. III far too many of them, how
ever, the blame has been affixed to no
particular individual; the officers are
still retained.in their positions in the
service of the companies, and are again
at liberty to put' in peril the liies of
passenuens who may -hereifler be-en,
trusted to their care.
In order that the real extent of these
calaritics may be thirly presented for
coisideration, we have prepared a sum
mary statement of the disasters to ves
sels, and on the railroads of the Union,
of which t dings were received here
between the dates of A pril I and May
IS. The exhibit is painfully interest.
mng:
Steapmer Inde .enden ce.-W recked
and burnt, Febr-uarp 16, near Margari
ta Island, in the Pacific, 167 miles
no-th of Cape St. Lucas; 129 lives
lost.
Steamer Tennessre.-Went ashore
March 16. near San Miguel, on the
Pacifie. Six hundred passengers on
board; all rescued.
Steaner cJnny Lind.-Exploded,
April ). while on the way fromn San
Fr:neisco to S:nm iiose; :ll lives lost,
19 piersons ijrd
aStner S. 8. L'zwis.-Went ashore
in the I'acific, near Bolinas Bay, April
9. Four hundred anid fbrty passen
gers on board; all saved.
Steamer A lba iross.- Lost in the
Gulf, while on her way from New
York to Vera Cruz, April 10.
Steaner Ocean Wave.-Burned on
Ike Ontario, Saturday, April 30; 27
li ves lost-passnger-s 21, and crew 1 6.
Biartque Willim and Mary.
W rnecked on reefts in Illaama Channel,
May 3; 170 lives lost.
Camiiden and A mboy Ra iiroad.
A fteirnoon t rain from Phliladelphia,
Satrday, Ajpril 23 -an otf the-draw
brdeat Raincocas Cree-k.
Aich ia Smnueten anid Ce~ntral
Ra(ilroa-ds.-Coillisonl t athle crossing,
A pril 25; 16 lives last, many per-sons
iimju'red .
Bostm1)I and .Maine liil road.-( ne
m an r-un over and ilIled, April 2 8, at
Iieniding dlepot.
ReinyliU Ra(ilroad. -One mnan killedl
nearu the Falls of the Schbuy Ikill May 5.
New 1H aen Rau~ilroa.-Mun inog ex
tress train fiom New York, .Friiday,
MIayv 6-ran ott draw bridge at Nor
walk; 45 lives lost.
.Aew Yorkh and Erie Railroad R~ama
p)o Branc/h.-Col lision on Monday,~
MayI;u 2 lives lost.
Old CoJlony Riailroad.-Freight train
thr-own otf near North 1Braintrete, Mas
samchu setts, May 11; cause, misplaced
swvitc-h.
Ta'iuntlon Brh-d/ Ra ilr-oad1.-TIrinf
thruowna off Saturday, lay' '7; 15 persons
injuured-cause, a broken axeltree.
New York Cna RailroauL-Col
lision ne-ar Syracuse, May 3, between
pasiseniger and cattle trains; engineer
Ihurt.
Jlndson Rtzrer Railroad.-Childl
killed in this city, Monday-, May 9.
Total.-Loss of life duriing three
months on sea and riven- steameors, 367.
Onm railroads, 66. A ggregate loss, 433.
From this statement it will be seen
that upwar-d of four hundred persons
have lost their lives, during the transit
from place to place on our various
routes of travel, in the short space of
'thre months. Beside the wrelcs of
sea going vessels attended with loss
of life,' no less 'than three first-class
steamships have foundered, such con
taining a large number of passengers,
varking froM one hundred and fifty to
six hundred persons on each vessel.
These were rescued by strenuous exer
tions; but, under less favorable circum
stances, they might have been added
to the list of dead. These results in
dicate a lamentable laxity of discipline,
a want of energy, and an absence of
foresight, which demand the nt.st vig
orous investigation.
New York Times, 19th.
HAPPY MAnanED WomN.-Fanny
Fern's text and sermon in the last 01
ive Branch, are as fiollows:
"Well, Susan,-what do you think of
married ladies being happy?" "Why,
I think there are more Aint that i6,
than is that Aint."
Susan, I shall apply to the Legisla
ture to have your name changed to
"Sapphira." You are an unprincipled
female. Matrimony is another naimne
for Paradise, at least in the Fern Die.
tionary.
Just imagine yourself Mrs. Snip. It
is a little prefix not to be sneezed at.
It is only the privileged few, who can
seenre a pair of cordutoys to mend
and trot by the side of; or a pair of
cuatflaps (alternately to darn, and hang
on to)amid the vicissitudes of this
patehwotk existence.
Think of the high prit.ce of fuel, Su
san, and the quantity it takes to warm
a low-spirited, single woman; -and then
think having all that found for you by
your "sleeping partner," and no extra
charge for "gas." Think lioW pleas
ant to go to the closet and find a great
boot-jack on your best bonnet; or "to
work your passage" to the looking.
glass every morning, thr6ugh a sea of
dickeys, yests, coats, continuations, and
neck-tisp-, think of your .nicely-pol
lished toilet-table spotted all' oveiv:
shaving suds; think of your "Guide
to Young Women," used for a razor
strap. Think of Mr. Snip's lips being
hermetically sealed, day after day, ex
cept to ask you "if the coal was out,
or if his coat was mended." Think of
coming up from the kitchen, in a gasp
ing state of exhaustion, after making a
patch of his favorite pies; and finding
live or six great dropsical bags disem
bowelled on your ehamber floor, from
the contents of which Mr. Snip had se
lected the "pieces" of your best silk
gown, for ,,rags" to clean his gun with.
Think of him taking a watch-guard you
made him out of four Hair, lbr a dog
collar! Think of your pronenading
the floor, night after night, with your
fretful, ailIng baby hushed up to your
warm cheek, lest it should disturb
your husband's slumbers; and think of
his coming home the next day, and
telling you, when you were exhausted
with your vigils, "that lie had just met.
his old love, Lilly Grey, looking as
iresh as a daisy, and that it was unac
countable how much older vou looked
than she, although you wer-e both the
same age."
Think ofall that, Susan, and see if
you dare tell me again, that "there's
more aint that is than is that aint"
happy married womncii. I came very
near bursting my boddice withe indig
nation, at your impudent assertion,
VRtnamA GRts.-A correspond
ent of the Richmond D~espatchi writ
ing ' from Ihanover Co., Virginia
says:
I see from the Savannah News,
that the Georgia girls are felling
treces and getting shingles. We
have in this county two girls follow
ing the same occupation. I send
you a sample of their workmanship.
They get six thousand per week by
their own hands, at $4 50 per
thousand. They supply the whole
demand in that region of country,
and many are sold in the Richmond
market. They have by dint of in
dustry purchased an excellent piano.
They are most excellent performers.
Tfheir task is six thousand per week.
They shorten their task by working
at night in the fishing season, there
by gaining Saturday, which they de
vote to pleasure. T.1hey go to the
Pamunky River and hual the seine,
regardless of the depth of water.
They can dive deeper, stay under
longer, and come out dryer than
any other girls in the United States.
-Now let the Georgia girls cut and
come again.
'Va~t you make dere T hastily in.
quired a' Dutchmamn of his daughter,
who was being kissed very clamor
ously.
'Oh, not much just courting a little
dat's all.'
'Oh, dat's all, ho ! py tam, I thought
THE FLOooING GO Aj'4 */
London correspondentdf.
man paper relates a stOrytf*,
to the way in which Priyi0' 6
cipIines his - chldi-en, -hi61Ct4
une translates as follows
"The ytung prince todo 7 N$,.n
in his rooomi in the royal
Windsor' at the window; .hd~d
reached tot lhe floor. - 11e hid
to learn by heart, but
aniusing himself-by looking 6oi U
the gardens and playing Ith hi1111
gers oif the window. I sgol e
Miss IHillyard, an earnest ano
person observed this, and:ind
him to think of getting hiWlPA489
The young prince said: 'I-doJ 'w
to.' 'Then, said MissIl 111 a
put you in the corner,' "I woit
answerd the little fellow resutei
'and won't stand in the^ corne;
am the Prince of Wald;AAnd
said this, he knocked oue ote:
window panes with his foot' ft i
Miss lillyard rose from hi: se
'Sir, you must learn, or I must UYoJen
in the corner,' I won't said he, kn
ing out a second pane. The godVrn
then rang, and told the servaht 4
entered to say to Prince Albert -th4i
she requested the presence ofh
al Ilighness immediately on apr
ing matter connected with his son
The devoted fithtir came at oniend
'heard the statement- of the olma
ter, after which he returned tois
tie son, and said, pointing. to an o '
man, 'sit down there, Indl w'a tiI '
return' Then Prince Albert tent to
his room and brought a bilie 'Itistein
now,' he said to the Prince ofWafes, ,
-to what the holy apostle Paul sia
you and other children in your'.pos.
tion ' H1ereupon he read Galat. iv
and 2: 'Now I say ilfat the heir
long as he is a child, differeth nothin
from a servant, thouh he be belov
all; but is under tutors and governors
until the time 'apponiled of tie fathe7 *
'It is true.' continued Prince Alhe
'that you are the Pfinee of W
if you co t rperly .ou may
cirra3an of ighz'tti,,an
aftei- the deathdi: ydurmother
become King of England But now you
are a little boy, who .must obey -hi4
tutors and governors.. Besides,< must
impress upon you anoher saying,.of the
wise Solomon, in Proverbs xiii. 24
'le that spareth his rod, htiaeth ins
son; but lie that loveth - him chastiseth
him besides. Hereupon -the fatler
took out a rod and gave the heirto
the throne of the weightiest empire of
Christendom a very palpable switch
ing, and then stood him up in the
corner, saying 'You will stan he
and study your lesson till Miss Hill.
yard gives you leave come out. And
never forget again that yon are now
tinder tutors and governers, - and that
hereafter you will be under a law gi
en by God" This adds, the corres
pondent, is an excellent Christain
mode of education, which every. citizen:'
and peasant who has a child may well
take to his heart as a model.
It may be proper to add that
younster who is represented to have
received this paternal admonition"I
but 11 years old. .
WIRo DA.-The papers say that"
'Ten Thousand a Year' is the- bet
novel of the season.-With equal
prcpriety we may say that the follow.
ing is the best negro story of the
season.
Gumbo was a wicked negro, 'who
had witnessed the ravages of . thK
cholera in 1882, with indifference,
but seeing his best friends dropping
off by dozens, in negro valley, Gum.
ho began to leave some fears of~ giv
ing the last kick himself in pretty:
much tile style he was wont toe 'fro
dat next brick bat,' in a row.9 u
be thou for the first time thought>or
praying, to use his own phrase, 'toi
(de angel ob de Lord,' declaring 2 dat
if he could only ho spared dis time,
he would be ready next year to be
taken up and lib foreber, in -Massa
Abraham's bosom. Some wags hay..
ing access to an adjoining room -sep..
arated by a board partition, hearing
him at his devotions knocked.
'Who dar?'
'De Angel ob do Lord.'
"What be want?' .
'Want Gumbo.'
Blowing out his candle with a
'whcw,-no such nigger hore. Pat
nigger dead dia two three weeksedat
the trufe--de fac.''
'Tom, whom did you say our rAr1
B- married ?' 'He wiarried fdty
thousand dollars, I forgot herothor
nameo!' was the answer.
Dick, I say, why don't you tu~r
that buffalo robe t'tether bidoec~dtP
--hair' side in is the Warri'
'Bah, Tom, foti ~outi Poyou
suppome the sisuali inselt' didWn
krahand-' ~shrd1~ike" ifl.