The Carolina Spartan. (Spartanburg, S.C.) 1852-1896, September 06, 1860, Image 1
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THE CAROLINA SPARTAN1
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YOL. XYII. SPARTANBURG, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1800. NO. 27?
Skt Carolina Spartan.
BY^OAVis"TRIMMIER.
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%r printed to order.
ymaaij^BBisgBBs
From the Ladies' Repository.
Pcaooa Pftlinor'w Funilly,
The sound of the stage horn flowed in
bireet mournful currents in and out of the
hollows, and the echoes aiuong the hills
oaught them up apd tossed them back and
forth through the forest, and they ran in
long, silvery eddies up the turnpike, and
over the meadows, and across the orchards,
till they reached tho ears, and stirred the
hnarta of tho nniet little villain; of Wood
Stock, whose farm-houses snt in the valley
at tho foot of a long chain of hills, like a
k -company of pilgrims gathered to worship
beforo the shrine of :i vast temple. It was
just at sunset, and somehow those long,
mournful minor tones seemed the fitting
close of the day'sservice?that autumn day
which had arisen on the m untain in garments
Of sunshine, and marched through
m tho hours in beauty and rejoicing, a living
"Glory to God!" -the Creator of its good
and perfect gift.
^ Bat it was a day fraught with dread and
foreboding to thousands of hoiues and hearts
in the land, for the voice of war was
abroad iu the card), and mothers had strain
ed their brave sons for the last time to their
bosoms, and seen them go forth to battle,
<and husbands and fathers had laid aside
the plow and the scythe, and shouldered
their muskets, and tai<eii their lives in
their hands for the sake of freedom, and
in the name of the God of battles.
So deep shadows lay on the quiet country
thresholds of almost every home in
I New Kngland that autumn day, and alI
most every hearth-stone was an altar where
wntious, loving hearts sent up a cry to
Godftr their beloved. Mrs. Palmer, wife
of Deacon John Palmer, of Woodstock,
stood in the wide, old-fashioned kitchen of
the dingy, yellow farm house, which she
brought her husband on her marriage
morning. She was an ample, motherly.
ploftMnt-faced woman, whose whole physi
ognomy corresponded with the room.
Strings of red peppers and rows of dried
apples Were tcstooncd along the ceiling,
while a swinging-board, fastened to a beam
which divided the hall overhead, was bur
sluned with herbs and berries, bums, dried
beans, seeds, and a motley variety of do?vi/ict
in ?*a
Mrs. Palmer's life had slippod over its
fiftieth summer, and her Mack, hair was
thickly sifted with gray, and there were
lines about her forehead, and the siuile in
her faded eyes had something soriowful
about it, for Mrs. 1'aimer had walked with
grief many times ; and of the ten fair boys
and girls who had been gathered to her
maternal heart, only two remained to her
tld age. It was a small family nndcr the
roof of the old gray homestead on earth,
but a larger 011c in that golden upper
homestead whose blessed threshold is never
^darkened by the shadow of death.
Mrs; Palmer paused as her ear caught
1 the faint sweet echoes of t e stage h >rn.
I and she deposited half a dosen freshly
boiled doagntiuts in the pan on the table.
w murmuring to herself. " .N?w, i'?r all the
world, if that isn't the u.aii coining in !
Who knows but what there may be some
news irom Reuben V Ah ! if you had
heard how her voice lingered over the
natno, you would have known she was his
mother.
H I Wonder if that boy'11 take any sort of
care of himself,' continued the fond mother.,
dexterously convolving several strips of
dough aud placing them in the large iron ;
IrAftln wlnivK ?l? . 11- dill?.1 ?
nwvw UVUI HIT HIT IIIICII Willi '
boiling fat, which indignantly snapped and ;
sputtered at their intrusion.
u If there was a fray, he'd be sure to be
foremost, for he al'ays was poking his head
into all sorts o' danger, and never seemed
to foci quite so content as when there was a
clianoo o' getting his neck off his shoulders.
u I never could exactly sec where ho got
his harum-scarum turn, for his father was
al'ays a sober-mi ruled man ; but it was a ma
*in' how he'd besnrtin to oome out straight
I never bad an easy hour for the first ten
^ years of his life, for fear he'd be brought
home with broken limbs; but arter he'd
gone through with what would kill a dozAt
ordinary children, I kinder gave up. L
/Concluded he bore, a charmed life. .
" Bless his heart! my brave, handsome
hey never gave his mother a cross word |
in the world ; and I saw the tears a shin-1
i&p'.under his lashes that uornin' when he .
hissed me good-by, afore he started for the
-though he talked so bold and cheery '
about his coming back a oap'n or a colonel. :
? t? ?
roor lenow : I hope lie won t get the
rheumatis campin' out at night, ami they
.say they have to put up with fare such u*
wo wouldn't have tho lace to offer to a smart
tdo?. 1 wish I could do up a paper o* these
doughnuts for tho boy, ho id'ays wits fond
of'cm. Hear inc ! them cakes are burn
in," dipping her largj tin ladle into the ,
boiling fat; " hut it al'uys Uustratcs me
when 1 get to thinking o' Reuben.?I'm ,
reminded sometimes o' what Parson Hunter
suid to nit;: Miss l'uliuer, you inusn't
make an idol of your son. Ho belongs to
the I<ord.' I know it's true as Scriptur', hut
^ J uun't help thiukiu' the Lord'll show marsy
Oh my weakness, cos he's all I've got,
and after a great many struggles I've given
up tho othet* to Him ; but iny very life is
bortnd up in that boy, and if anything
should happen to hiui, (Jod knows it would
break his poor old mother's heart." And
Mrs. Paluier broke down here, and she s
down on the old oaken chest, and wip
her eyes on the corner of her check apn.
Light warblings of some old psalm tu
fluttered down the staircase, and then t
door opened and a pleasant looking girl bui
suddenly into the room.
Rebecca Palmer was twenty-two, and t
sight of her bright young faco was like
picture rejoicing the eyes. Sho was r
beautiful, but her cheeks were full of t
glow of youth, and the richness of perlV
health.
"Well, child," said Mrs.* Palmer, takii
hor kettle from the crane, "you just busi
round spry and get up supper. Your fath
and the men will come home clear tucker
out, for they've been fellin trees ull day, ai
we must get a hearty meal for 'cm. Y<
slice up some ham, too, and fry a doz<
eggs, while 1 fix up some short cake."
"Mother, did you hear the sta e horn
asked Rebecca, as she laid the cloth si
| had spun with her own hands for the su
per.
"Yes, and I was kind of impressed the
was news from Reuben."
"1 wonder what keeps father so ?" remar
cd Kebecca.
Likely as not he's gone round to the La
cm, to learn if there's any tidings lrom t]
army."
Another half-hour throbbed itself awi
in the pulses of the great old-fashion*
clock in the corner, and both the worn*
had begun to grow alarmed at the deaeor
prolonged absence, when they caught tl
click of the gate latch, nnd his heavy trca
along the footpath.
'ihey saw him stop, as usual, at tl
woo 'en trough at the well, and wash h
hands there, und then he came into tl
kitchen.
"Why, father," began Mrs. Palmer, wit
a little wifely admonition, "what has ke]
you so long? 1 ra'ly began to be scar*
atiout you."
"And the supper's about burnt tocii
ders," added Rebecca, who was in som
thing of a hurry to get the table cleared i
time forsiuging school.
The deacon w. a a square-built, sun-brow
?'d man, with shaggy eye-brows and wcatl
cr-beateii face, lie came toward the tab
with a slow groping movement, which nt
thcr of the nreocennied w mini notir>,?
ami he cleared his throat twice before 1
spok e.
44 I was detained a spell 011 some iu itti
of my own;" and Mrs. Palmer and Uebcci
at once concluded that he alluded to sou
bargain with a neighbor.
' Don't you see the chair there, father',
asked Rebecca; lor the old man stood st
as a statue before the table, though h
daughter had just placed his seat at h
elbow, and now he sat down without speal
ing a word.
Why, husband, 1 do b?lievc you're dei
to night! You haven't taken your hat oil
exclaimed Mrs. Palmer.
"Don't, wife, don't;" and the old ina
laid his straw hat on the llo >r beside bin
The two women heat their heads reve
ently over the board, waiting lot the do
eou to invoke his customary blessings ti
oti the meal, but no sound broke the stil
ness.
Mrs. Palmer glanced up at her hushan
llis head, too, was bent over his plate; ati
a stream of can lie-light falling on h
face, revealed it fully to her ga e.
"John. something has happened to yo
tonight," she said, leaning forward at
lil'ieil lili'H^lv sK iroliiiiif Im? I'-.#-,.
A deep convulsive sort of groan heave
out *?f the old man's lips, and both the w
men grow white as they hoard it.
"Oh, what is it, fa*her' do tell us !" flu
to red up the frightened voice of Rebecca
Mrs. l'aliner rose and went to her hu
band and laid her shaking lingers on h
hard hand.
"Oh, John, it ain't anything about Re
ben?" She cried out the words as one tnig!
if a sword had struck snddealy into h
heart.
Rebecca had set still at tho table, h
sweet face struck white with wonder ai
fear, and her brown eyes fastened on h<
parents ; but now she sprung up, and dm
ped down on her knees at the deacon's tec
" Oh, father, do say it isn't Reuben !" ar
her voice Was like her mother's. Tl
deacon opened his lips, hut could not spea
lie took the hands of his wife and h
child, and covered them with his own tor
bling ones. "Ob, Lord, have mercy on m
groaned the stricken man, and then the
knew.
Mrs. Raliuer crept up to her husban
and whispered in a faint, broken Vuio
"Jest say my boy isn't dead, father,
oann t boat to hear anything else."
And the deacon made no answer ; l>
the great tears fell down his furrowi
checks, and it was enough.
The tidings of the disastrous battle i
bong Island, which closed the summer
1770, bad tilled the land with luournin
for thousands of widows nnd orphans hu
been made in that terrible hour when i
mailv brave \mf>rii>-.iiu ! ><> .1.....I .... a. l
j lUJ UU?U UU lilt? IJiJ
tie field, and the news of the succcssf
skirmish which took place the follow ii
month near Kind's bridge, in New Vor
was everywhere hailed with gladness ui
gratitude, and the little village ol \\"<n?
stock bore its part in the general rejoieii
on that autumn night, when the stage fir
brought in the tidings.
The deacon's family was the only one
Woodstock to whom the news broug
any sorrow, for it was in this engagemc
that Heubcn had fallen. He was a gre
favorite throughout tho village, and evei
heart was filled with sadncsP when it thoug
on that bright handsome face lying stai
and rigid on the battle field.
It wus lato.that evening when Parson 11 ;t
ter entered tho stricken house, for fricni
and neighbors feared to intrude on its ai
ful grief. But the tender hearted o
minister could not rest till he had carrir
the sweet halm of his love and faith iu
their broken hearts.
Parson Hunter was a tall, white-haired ol
man, a fine representative of the stanch o
?utPuritan minister, but beneath some statoli- 8
ed ness and austerity of manner bent a heart look
n. , where wero all fair and fragrant blossoms, strai
nc and golden fruits of charity and lovo ; a brok
he heart in whose pleasant and goodly paths thcii
rst the angels love to walk with their shining in a
faces, and of whom they wrote, "Of such "(
he is tho kingdom of heaven." u gli
>n The minister found the family in thekitch- u wi
lot eu where we left it utterly crushed down It
he by grief, which expressed itself neither by talk
ict uioans nor tears. arou
Mrs. Palmer sat iu tlio large arm-chair niur
ng before the fire, whero her husband bad twix
tie placed her, the crimson light fluttering over hnd
her face, which seemed frozen to stone, uiotl
inf and her tearless eyes fastened in a blank "1
id gaze on the wall; and it was well, perhaps, rca'l
on that alarm for her reason or her life had hear
eu somewhat i ivcrted the thoughts of tho dea- Ken
con and his daughter from the dead to the drea
?" lvi; g, though it seemed to the minister that A
he the last hour had done the work of years able
p- on both of thetn. wliei
"My friends," said the minister, speak- and
re ing in his deep, solemn tones, "I should sinci
not have como into your house of mourning "tea
k- to-night, feeling that the Lord could speak couh
to your hearts better than 1, remembered A
v- that it was twenty-tour years ago this very niai<
lie month when you brought Hcuhcn up to the thou
altar to dedicate him to his God, and I felt A
iy that 1 had a right and title to como." And will
jd those words unlocked Mrs. Palmer's face, into
sn She turned suddenly to the old man as both
i's the vision of that SuhLatli morning rose weal
ie and walked up its long path of years and her.
id stood bef?re her. A
"I see liiui ! I see him !" she sobbed out, ly in
ie "with the little brov n curls a daucin' round just
is his face, and the merry brown eyes blinkiu' heav
ie under them. My little Hcubcii ! he was for t
the sweetest baby that ever gladdened a j mill.
Ill mother's heart.and I was so proud of liini, "1
at nil.] 1 thought (!od would Kinm liim .? hr. I I
y 1? ~ %v
d the staff of his mother's old age, because 1 breul
had given all the others to hiui. Oh, Par- SI
a- son Hunter, it can't be true that I shall us hi
e- never look into his face again, never hour "(
in the sound of his voice! that he's Ivin ofl some
thereon the battle-field, and his mother Tl
n- was not there to smooth away the hair eage
ti- from his forehead, or give him one kis> stain
le when lie looked up lor her face for the ehau
>i- last time!" wrou
d, Theol<l man sat still, overwhelmed by
10 this mighty burst of a mother's agony. 441
He closed his eyes for the tears that til- can't
<r mod them, and lelt that fur her he had A
5a neither help nor consolation. Tl
ic 4,The Lor 1 gave; and the ' ord lurh taken eoun
awiey; blessed be the name of the Lord! " who
'i lie low solemn tones of the preacher, iuat!<
ill scarcely ahove a whisper, fell into the sug_
is hearts of the Ilearcrs and stilh d them, as of tit
is man's never oauld, as only LLmI a can Hle-s spin
k- ed liiblo, words which we read over in the II
morning lesson and evening service, and 1 u".
it in vcr know th > fullness and richness, the out.
depths of meaning there are in them, till glios
some aw I ul sorrow of our own touches the dea .
ai springs, and then we go in, ami io ! tin se 11
a old familiar passages are like stately r. o:n knev
ir- resting on massive pillars, and garnished 44(
a- and adorned with ail fair and beautiful be p
p- thing-; or they arise before us l.ke gardens A
il- filled with trees, whose branches are bur- each
dened with gold and purple fruits, whose of oh
d winds arc full of the breath of sweet flow- M
id era, and whose silence is stirred by the dren
is voi e of soft fulling waters; aiuid which the the <
i soul may walk an l ho refreshed. with
iii Oli, muler, tor you, too, noimcr or later, ,S<
ill uiust i'iiiih! this time when oil earthly lu>l|> shun
shall tail you?when 110 hum.in words can to hi
>d he ut ava.l or healing to you, ami in those Tl
o- silent ami awlul sorrows, when only the l'alri
voice yl (ioil call speak to the heart, you dreii
it- too may find what it is to have the windows they
ol* the promis a opened, and your soul shall was
is- sit down under their blessed shadows and She
is be healed. ed; i
with
u- Days passed away. A young man walk- assid
lit ed along the country road slowly and wea- grew
is rily, leaning upon a stout oak stall'; his lace nion
j was ghastly white, ami he Wore the blue grow
er 1 und'iriu ot'the ' 'ontinental-." He had a "\
id ! terrible w mud in his right shoulder, and niak
er : had been left on the battle Held for dead, a he;
p ' lie opened the hack gate softly, and gazed A
t: j all about him?at the wood pile in one c< r- it w.
id | nor of the great yard m ar the sunllower lace,
le i stalks, ami the small quince trees, which 4,|
k. j grew on one side ol the old brown home- got 1
is j stead of Deacon I'nlincr. I good
u- j Suddenly the kitchen door opened, and
? ! I llcbccca I'aluier eatne out of the door w ith scan
y | a tin basin in her hand, and the man's
{ heart leaped as lie heard her say, in her Ti
d, | quick way ; Lord
o, j Never mind sprinkli i* thetn clothes, eneu
I mother, I'll attend to it tissooiius I've hunt- j
' ed up a few o' them winter pears to stew that
ut for supper," and he saw the light rapid that'
:d figure hasten round the corner of the house j 1\
to the old pear tree just in the edge ol the 1 grati
ut pasture, which ho remembered climbing so tion
of many times in his boyhood, and amid who-*; suhji
g, branches he had gathered the fa led bird's ump
id nests eveiy fall. He followed the quick was
so figure stealthily, and stood still a moment intui
it- just outside the bars, and she did not see j ",1
ul liiin, lor her hack was turned, and slio drop- ; loohi
ig ped down on the yellow grtisa, ami was fairl
k, searching nmid it lor the fruit which the 1 thin
id wind had shaken off. I 141
(1- ; "Heeky, llocky, I say?" | brok
ig i he turned ipiickly, anil as licr eyes I? !I let y
st upon his lace a ghastly pa lor crept over ( ?\
hers. She covered it with a shriek, not SI
in loud, lor it seeuiod to lie for very terror in shad
ht her throat. cont|
nt "Why, liecky, do look up here! Now, *tret
at hnvn't yon got a b ttcr wolcome than this warii
ry for your brother when he's conic back from for I
ht the dead like;"1 hear
rk Hut she cowered closer down in the grass, that
ami moaned and shivered like loaves in the moll
n- old pear tree. hear
Is "Sec here, now, what on earth ails you? ded
,v- If you take mo for a spirit, jest look up day
Id and I'll be able to uouviucc you I'm honest hous
>d flosh and blood yet." to II
to lie lilted her up with ono arm, for she 1 bnt
was too weak betwixt fright and wonder to
Id resist; but the old familiar hearty tones T
Id half assured her. Mod
be lifted her fuco from her hands nnd
ed at her brother a moment with a
ned, wild glunco; then the glad truth
;o into her heart, for tho hazel eyes had
r roguish glance, though they were set
pale, wasted face.
Jh, Reuben, Reuben, 1 thought it was
ioat!" and she fell upon his neck with
Id sob of joy.
; was long before he could get her to
rutionuliy. She would throw herarm*
ltd his neck, and, huggiug him tightly,
luur such tender words over hiiu bet
sobs an l laughter, as Reuben l'ulmer
not heard since he lay a babe in his
icr's crib.
You precious durlin' fellow, have you
y come back to us alive Y Bless your
t, how white and clia lgcd you are! Oh,
ben, darlin, is it really you, or am I
tnin'Y"
nd at last slie grew calmer, and was
to tell her brother of that terrible night
n the awful tidings came of his death,
how tlicy hadn't one of them stuiled
j, and how, though his mother tried to
r up/' every one who looked in lur face
J see that her heart was broken,
nd then both the young man mid the
leu sat down on the grass and wept us
gh they were little children,
t last Rebecca rose up. "Oh, what
mother say! You must cotuc right
the house, Reuben- only p'rap's 1M
. r break it to her slow like, for she's
ily now, and the sudden joy might kill
Oh, there's father!"
nd they saw the old Deacon come slowito
the vard mil nliirht from hi*
^ ? ?> ** "w,uv
before the barn door, and remove the
y bags of flour from the animal's back,
lie old man hud just returned from the
>\V11 go and tell hint first. You just
> around the comer of the burn, and i ll
k the news," cried Rebecca,
to came panting up to her father just
u was leading the horse into the barn.
)h, say, father, 1 want to tell you?
thing's happened!"
lie old man turned and looked into the
r face of his daughter, and his son,
ling a little way off, could see the
go which the last two weeks had
ight in his face.
Veil, what is it my child ?*'
k ou'll be so glad, father, and yet?1
; tell it. Oh, Reuben, do conic here,
i.d lie cumc out. "Father!"
lie vague superstitions which almost all
try | icople held at that period of ghosts
haunted their own homes and visits
? Iiy the dead to tho living, at onee
. -ted even to the well balanced luind
i 1 the possibility <tl lii? son's
i returning to him.
e tur'cd white us his child had done,
he did not speak, and Rebecca cried
"Don't be afearcd father. It isn't a
, but Ruben's own self, and he wasn't
as we all thought."
iic long, greedy glance, ami the father
r his eliild.
Hi, Reuben, my son Reuben, the Lord
raised!"
nd the father and the son fell upon
other's necks, like Jacob and Joseph
I, and wept.
Ye uiu-t break it to mother easy, cliil,
or it'll sartain kill her for joy," said
aid man, vigorously wiping his face
his pocket haukerehief.
i it was arranged that Deacon l'alnu r
Id go in and break the joyful tidings
s wife according to bis best judgment,
lie trio went up to the house; Deacon
icr entered the kitchen, and his whilst
ood just outside the door, where
could hear every word. Mrs. I'diner
slicing some a utiles into a wooden bowl
did not look up as her husband onterill
these long weeks she had gone on
her household duties carefully and
uously as ever, but with a face which
more pale and patient every day?
like the faces ovir which the grasses
' and the w inds walk.
Yell, Hecky," she said, "I couldn't
e out what had kept you You've been
iipo' time huntin' them pears."
II the life had gone out of her Voice ;
is as full of grief and patience as her
t's me mother, not lh-eky; I've just
mine from Urn mill, and L've hccr'd
news."
What kind o' news, father?" with
rely a faint stir ol interest.
Vheni?well, this was froi:. tl e army."
ne old woman sighed. "'1 lien this
givcii u? another Victory over unity."
N ail, not that exactly. It's somethin'
eonsams us more nearly?somethin'
d give you more joy, mother."
jor old man! lie was internally conilatiug
himself on the tact and diserewith
which he had approached his
ret; hut lie could not keep a tone of trihant
gladness out of his voice, and lie
not astute enough for a woman's quick
it ions.
lolin,'' who said, turning round and
ing him full in the face?a look that
y staggered him?"have you heard any
g about Hcuhen?"
iVall, yes, it did oonsr.ro him?." He
e down here. "Keuben, euise in and
our mother see for herself."
Mother!"
ic gave one long greedy look as 1?i <
ow fell over the threshold. She
[treliended it all in tli.it glance, and
cited out her aruis us lie rushed forI;
hut they only clutched at the air,
teforo she could gather hiiu to her
t she had fallen to the floor. Her son
was dead was alive again, but the
ler's joy was more than her heart could
But the color soon came to her fachecks,
and at eventide on that happy
was heard in good Pcacon I' liner's
te the voice of praise and thanksgiving
im who in hif wisdom "takoth away,
in mercy "r??toretli again "
be man who "left his truces in the
1" sold the balance of the harness.
Aerolites.
A writer in the Boston Traveller given
the following interesting account of the
visits of aerolites to our world :
Aerolites, as the derivation of the word
implies, are masses or stoue, which descend
to the earth from the regions of our
ftllilospheie. They are always apparently
enveloped in a "swiftly moving fiery globe
of considerable magnitude, which explode"
with great noise, and hurls its stony con
lent* over largo tracks of our globe. In
tome instances the globe has pas ed into
our atmosphere am] out again without explosion
and without leaving any res'niuin.
They are solitary in their lltght, and their
| fall is confined to no geographical locality;
nor do they descend from any particular
regions of the heavens, pursue any common
direction, or appear at Hiiy particular sea
on of the year. They traverse, usually,
| large areas in the sky, and are visible lor
some time, and over a vast extent of lerri
lory.
So fnr as our knowledge of them ox
t'nds, their appearance and coin so are
wholly fortuitous. Meteors, with which
aerolites ate often confounded, uro a class
of natural phenomena entirely distinct
from aerolites. They are commonly known
as shooting stars, from their resemblance in
color and magnitude to the fixed stars, from
whence they appear to proceed. They ate
of regular periodical occurrence, descend
ing in groups, sometimes in sli.oven, and
come from particular regions in the Ilea
tens. They are visible hut for n vert* short
tune, describe but a small arc in ibe sky.
an I mo seen over a very small extent of
territory. They make no noise and '.-are
no deposit. i hey are well known to be c.t
a harmless charac'er, and txeitu hut little
more cuiiosity in their appearance than the
(alien Minn -flake*.
But the terrific grandeur of a solitaryaerolite
moving with planetary velocity in
our very mid-i, exploding with the noise
of many thunders, ami imrlitur "
Iiron globes" and stony masse* iivcr our
globe, is calculated to awaken in (lie breast
j of every one feelings of awe, and h deep
Ami abiding inteutl ill tlicso bodies. The
destruction which they are calculated to
produce, and the four uutnoiable instance*
of mortal* crushed to death iu their fall,
tinges their iutcicst with feelings of mel
anclioly a tl terror. Tito danger appre
lieuded fr< 111 cometaty collision?bodies
moving in strict obedience to an inexorable
law, and of light and vapory substance generally?
is nothing computed with the pn*
sibility of the descent of an aerolite *>?t hi d
day, from a clear skv, carrying devastation
in fla course. No warning precede* it*
SMUMtlir. I.Uil tllM klVktlUU** of Us Jesccli I pre
eludes t sc ipe.
When U is considered that three-fourths
itf the sin face of tile globe is covered with
water, into which these bodies may fall
unnoticed, and with' ul leaving any trace of
heir e* sunc, their recorded numbers and
the do-lrucii? u lhe\ have produced on a liuiii
ted pai I < fit* solid sii' face, may be con?idei
i d comparatively great. The earlie-t record
ed fail of aerolites is among the Chinese
Ft..Ill the year Gil before our era, to 333
a'ter Clnist, sixteen of these bodies are te
gi-t. iel a* having fallen; while the (ir ek
and tinman authors mention only four dnr
ing this peiiod. I lie gieat mass which fell
burning 4Go 1?. 0., on ?l\g.>s Foi-uiios, is
the most cel. brated of antiipiitv. It is described
as being as large as two uii'l stones,
and 11 lilllbohll expresses art opinion that,
nolw illislaliduig ihe lapse ?>l" 'Jit J 5 \eais.
the Thraciau aerolite tutss may vet be
found.
An aerolite in the beginning < f the tenth
century fell into the rm-r at Xarni. and
projecterl four feet above the Miiface of ll e
water bke a huge rock; and a M mgolian
radition i* extant, thai., me'i foity feet in
height fed fiom Heaven on a | lain near
Hie gn-at \ ellow river in China. In 13<>3
.? laico netoiite exploded hi Xotutaml v, in
Km- e?-, ami seatteied Ih--'ioind? of lis trag
metils over a region of lliiilv miles squire.
I pwanlsof t wo It it 11 1 r o? 1 instances ?.f i Infill
I of these bodies in ililli'ieut j>nt? of the
world ate recorded. It must Is! ieinaikn-1
that eveli the liitjjiM of the masses found,
j whether in aneient or iiioiletn tion-s, am
! hut fiagm- n s of the oiigii al helore the explosion.
I hev have beet) vaiion-lv ?-sii
| inst il in m/.?\ helore bursting, fioin a few
| hiitiilreil fe'-t to seveial utiles. Thcv Hp
pro.teh, mill even exceed the magnitude o(
1 the smallest of the asteroids, which is esliina'e
l at alt. tit five miles in diameter.
The aoioltie mass is usually warm, somelimes
heateil to it great degree, when it
> lirsl falls. i'ltey all exhihil agemral idenlily
in external lot in, the character ami
color of the crust, and the chemical com
position of their piineipnl constituents, without
regard to the epoch or the place of their
descent. It is justly considered a singular
and striking fact, that aeiolites contain no
new chemical element, hut contain the
san e as found distributed in the crust of 'inearth.
When fitwl found they have a thin
Muck brilliant coaling, occasionally veined
This peculiar color of the external crust
was noticed by the ancients, and there i*
hut one recorded instance where it whs
wanting. The interior of the mass is usu
( ally of a light gray Color?the presence ??r
absence of certain chemical elements, which
compose these bodies, trnrytng the degree
i ol color.
Wiiiiiu (he present century, three great
! aeruli'o.s have attracted lire a'lonlioii of the
people of New Ktigland. I lie lirst, which
in plod cd near Weston, Connecticut, I )oc
14. 1807, was the subject of elihoiale o?li
n. iiion liy (lie celebrated Dr. Ifowdilch, ill
it- geometrical and tinttl nic tl relations. The
extreme limits of 118 real diameter wa?
plac* 1 by Howditch at live ItnmI ?.*<I feel
l< r its leant, and one half mile for itr
ore itest dm met r.
I'llo latuc-l limit is owing to die vatiotn
estimates ?T its ?i/.? front the places of ol>
servation, they being ! > >* reliable than italtitude
and course. The aerolite moved
over something none than one hundred
and seven utiles, during visibility, at a dis
lance of eighteen tniivs from lite carth'i
I surface. lis velocity ?;r r.bout tliroe miles
per second. An explosion took place over
W est on, ii 1 masse* of stone fell, weighing
about half a t? n. This could have been
but a very small part of the original, which
must have continued on its course; and the
observation at Weston, of its gradual disappearance,
favors the idea. As its course
wits southerly, and nearly in the meridian
of that place, the other fragments, if it descended,
must have fallen into the ocean.
The next aerolite was seen all over New
Knglaml on the evening of September 80,
1850, and is in some respect* the most remarkable
ot any on record. It is sometimes
known a* tlie "Jenny Li ml Meteor," on ac
count ?f its existence, within the great
dome oi the Cambridge Observatory, I eing *
first made known by the illustrious vocal
int turning suddenly and excitingly away
from the gieat telescope, where she was
viewing the planet Saturn, near wlrch the
neroliiccxploded. The sudden illumination
of the field of the telescope, hy the aerolite,
was the cnu-e of her surprhe. The writer
will never forget the startling effect of the
sudden concentration of gienl light in the
field of tho comet-seeker with which he was
exploring, at the time, a region oftbe lieaveus,
quite remote from that in which the
iterolile exploded. The astronomers of the
? b-etvalury noted very exactly the place of
explosion among the stars, and executed
drawings ? f the wonderful radiance itiefi behind,
w liicli rem dm-d vi> le planet in different
forms for more than an hour. Its course,
in the east, was in a northerly direction,
l'ue Cambridge and N antucket obeer vat ions
made its distance from tho former place at
I the time of its explosion about one hundred
in les, and fifty miles above the ccean.
I'he durati< ii of its light renders this aero
lite memorable.
un. .i.:_ i -- i ...
iic num. huh pronniuv inncti the largest,
was that which appeuted on the evening of
July 20, 18GU. Its appealance in the early
part of the evening was favorable for gen
eral observation; ami it appears to have
been seen from Montreal to Norfolk, Va.,
ami fiom Detroit to Portland, Me. Its phy j
sical appearance in this viciuity was that
of two ceparate nuclei, side by side, throwing
olf sparks w Inch made a bright train
ot s veial degrees in length. It is somewhat
remarkable that the Usual phenomena of
explosion was nowhere seen. This is sustained
by the fact that as yet no no se was
heard emanating from the aerolite. In all I
probability it pa-sed on its planetary career.
1'tie approximate calculations of 1'iof. Bond,
of (' tmbridge, and Dr. I'erkin*, of Newbury
poit, apparently based on ditFerenl ob
serv.itions, concur in making its course
nearly over the noitheru part of Pennsylvania
ami New Jersey, and L mg Island
S niiid, with a velocity of about 25 miles
per second, at an elevation of 22 miles above
the taitll. The magnitude, velocity, and the
course of this h<n|y will, undoubtedly, be
- very exactly ascertained from the great
number of observations made on it during
its visibility.
The phenomenon is usually *o sudden
ami so startling, that it is gone t*.-f.?re tho observer
thinks to note its place among the
stars when first and last seen, and the
lime and duration of its appearance, which
w u'd furnish data for the calculation of the
elemet.U of its path, in connection with
another distant place. Person* observing
these birdies would go ally aid scientific
men in their investigation of aer? lire", if
they would attend to ll.e nothing of the
above few simple facts.
Cai'Iiick of a Beautiful Marksman.?The
1'aria correspondent of the New
Yoik Kxpress relates this singular story:
A young, beautiful and wealthy lady, j
widow of a French officer who loa; his life at
the assault of.Malakoff. has chosen a second
hit-band after a sonic what ccccntic fashion.
arising either from martial disposition, or
the difficulty of a selection between no less
:h in ten sighing as| irants for her hand.
Madam C. invited the ten gentlemen to
breakfast at her country villa, and having
I thus united her suitors, informed them
i that she would unite herself to that one of
them who would consent to lndd in his j
hand a watch for her to fire at and break
with a pistol, at twenty paces. Nine of the l
] irty didn't eare to run tho risk exacted by
this female Travis, hut the tenth, a young
merchant, courageously determined to fulfil
the condition imposed. Madam ('.loaded
her pistol forthwith, and stepped into the
garden followed by the company. Tho
lw? uty paces were measured, the mercantile
hero pulled out h's watch, gallantly
refusing one not much larger than a franc,]
offered by the lady, and fearlessly assumed
Ins place. The amazon took deliberate
aim; bang! went the pistol, and down tumbled
tho watch, pierced to the cap. The
gentleman, unharmed by the adventure, has
married the rich widow and bought a new
time piece.
London and its Growth.?Tho city
of London, says the Registrar General, now
covers 1-1 square miles. It is equal to
three London* of 1800. It increases in
population at the rate of one thousand a
week, half by births (their excess over
deaths) and halt by immigration (their excess
over emigration.) If is remarkable
' ' it in London one in six oi' thosj who leave
the world dies in one of the public institutions?a
workhouse, hospital, ostium or
prison, Near'y one in eleven of tbedoaths
are in a workhouse.
runny Fern comes to the conclusion that
- a wouian is better without than with male
relatives. "It', ' she Kuj'ft, you have a hue*
hand that won't support vou, your father
won't help you because you are married,
amly our uncle won t help you because
you've got a father and brothers, and your
k| cousins won't help you because you've got
plenty of uncles, and nobody el*o will help
' one whom husband, father, brothers,uncles
and cousins surround."
I ; Lot the youth, who stands at the bar with
1 a glass of liquor in his hand, consider which
he had better throw awaj?the liquor or
?* himself,
Tall Cora.
W? grow "tall corn" in America. Tbi
world in beginning to find it onL E*ery
year brings the fuel more and more homo
to tbe perceptive and digestive faculties of
all civilised humanity*. Like all great .
truths, it did not gain credit at once. True,
everybody sees it here with his own eVea,
but not soon li.e other side of the water. TU#
first accounts of the productiveness of Ottf
western prairies were read by our Buckinghamshire
farmer* with a bo-it as mocli re>
spect as the fish stories of the sailor Sin bad.
It look even the highest dignitaries of the
land a long while to get fairly np to a level
with the actual fact. Even at this day
there is an ear of corn in the British Mu?e>
mil which enjoys a very distinguished eoo*
tideration a? a curiosity. It divides altea*
lion, we do not say equally, but certainly
fractionally, with the Ninevah Bull and Um
great Kohinoor. It is a perfect marvel to
our cousin John Bull; and ret it lias but n
very simple his'ory, and it is not a very
extraordinary ear of corn after all. It reach*
ed its present distinction something in lliie
wire:
In the month of January, 1847, at a certain
dinner party in Londou, at which Lord
John Bussed, Lord Morpeth and insny other
distinguished men were prosent, the conversation
turned upon the Irish famine; and the
remark whs made by Lord John that here- tl
joiced that so good a substitute for the na^
i live bieadstutf Lad leen found as Indian
corn. Turning to Mr Bates, American
partner in the house of Baring Brothers,
his Irrdship went on to say:
" Why, Bates, some of the cobs have
twelve or fourteen rows of grain on them."
Mr. Bates coolly replied ;
' Ye*, my lordj I have seen from twenty
to twenty-four rows on a cob."
"That is a rare Yankecwm," was the
I plea-ant retort of the Premier; and tbe
whole company shouted in approval.
The burst of merriment over, Mr. Baete
| bought his peace by a wager of a dinner
I for the company all rouud (bat be coabi
I prounce sucn an ear. *
' Dona!" exclaimed Lord John; arid the
bet was clinched.
The dinner panted off. Mr. Bato* returned
home, but not entirely At ease. lie bad
done a strange thing; for the fr?t lime in
hi* life he had made an engagement be wea
not absolutely certain of his ability to fulfil,
lie had misgivings that be bad rwhlr
pledged the honor of his. country. It had
been long since he look<*d upon an American
crib; and however patiently be winnoweil
the cornucopia of his memory, be found
thai the cobs of his eailv days had gone
glimmering through the lapee of lima
among the things that were now so far off
tTial he could not count the ro w. Ha was
as Plaulus would say, redactu* ad tarda*?
in Yankee p.vi lance, hard up." But For tuna
favors the brave. It bap|M?ued that a friend
of ours dropped in next day at the counting
house of the Barings. Mr. Ilatee, witk
brightening face, hailed hirn, and mada
known his difficulty.
"You are safe." was the response; u if I
live to gel home you shall have even a bigger
ear than you have promised.
Our friend G soon returned, and
straightway wrote to Messrs. Rogers and
Reynold-, of Lafayette. Indiana, telling
the story, and begging them, for the honor
| of the country, lo come to the re-cure, and
I turn the tables on Lord John, show iug them
what Yankees could do.
in July following Mr. G?? received
by express from Lafayette a nicely arranged
box, containing six ears of horse looiii corn,
two ol which had twenty-nine rows, two
thirty-out- and two thirty two. The boa
wan forthwith atld>e>*ed to ** J. Ba'es. Em].:
care uf Mi-vrs. H iring, Brother* it Go. ship*
|*-d by Black Ball Line, care of llie Liverpool
House.** It reached its destination, t?4
Lor<i John Uunsell, first Loni of the Trenail
rv, thin) ioii of the lute 1 )uke of Bedford by
the a?*?ond daughter of George Viscount
Torrington, and lineal descendant of I?ril
\S illiain Uu?*ell, the martyr of Liberty,
"(frknuuhdyctl the corn."
The dinner wa? won. Joshua Bates did
not perpetrate a *Yankeeism, and the British
Mii?enm hold" the trophy. Vine la R*f>uLl
lJUC.'
.Miss Patterson.?a matter rather
singular forcibly impressed itself upon inn i
I some Weeks ago, but I neglected noticing
it up to the present time. Passing along
our streets the next day after the announootnent
of the death of Prince Jerome Bonaparte,
I saw his wi e?Misa Patterson?
now near her eightieth year, walking oat
in her usual costume, unconcerned as if
nothing had happened. She certainly
knew the faet^ but knowing her eccentricities
1 was not surprised, it is no unoons>
ton thing to see this venerable lady in thn
public marts ajttetjdiiig personally to business.
She often collects her owu rents, and
takes a tlirt at stock speculations when tha
iv...? ? i- -?* - -- -
IC1CI in (III. .\l all limes, &U ClOj^Ql
crown jewel, glittering with diamonds of
the purest water, is displayed upon her
forehead, whilst her arms are white, akin
smooth and minder as a maiden of aixteen.
She is reallyla remarkable woman. There
i it a deep stoitisiu and unbending philosophy,
coupled with independenoe in her
im|Mhi4tioh, which ono out of a thousand,
finale, docs not posseea. ll?
evMRihnught is replete with favoriti^pl
i'o^H^mtv. Republics sho esteems commo^^Brntelut;
and now, though a citixea
of o^Romain, and without anything spo,
cial lojj^iue bcrsolt upon touching imperial
I favonjpne lives in the ideal of la belts
! Franc? ller greatest ambition it to heer
i of her grandson?young Jeromo?now 1b
the French army, rising to honor and ina?
perial distinction. A large portion of her
annual income, w hich ir? large, is appropriated
to his serrico. At her demise, u in
presumed, he will iuhcrit her entire for(unci
as she is not on terms of intimacy
' with her son here.
VW^P'-' Cor. X?m> York Tim**.
T.ifo iflpkliine or gloom, just m yof
I t'boosu to have it appear,
f