Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

~ ' - jf ' r"'7' T-\ % /~v * J.'. ? - f ? i 1 sa lLwMmelton, ji^oprietora. An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests.of the South. jlewism.gbist,pommwr. VOL. 2. " YOBKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY 8, 1856. NO. 19. , <%ic* |3odn). THE WIPE'S DREAM. Pray tell me, Mary, how it is that you can look so gay, When evening after evening your husband is away; I never see you sulk about, nor say an angry word, But still you've plenty cause for tears, if all be true I've heard! It is because, my sister dear, a husband you ne'er wed; To see your children gathring round asking you for bread. You ne'er can tell how it becomes a woman's lot through life, To be, even to a drunkard's life, a faithful loving wife. But still I can recall the time when bitter tears I shed, And when my husband staggered home what angry words I said, I never though I could so cheerful be as now I seem, Yet this happy change was brought about by a simple little dream. One eve as I sat waiting at our humblo cottage door. And listening for my husband's steps, as oft I've done before, ^ Some wicked thought came in my head, and bitterly I said? T nriclmil ?f>e him tnnre T wnnhl that he were deadThey say the wretched cannot rest, hut sure it is not so, For very soon I fell asleep midst cares of grief and woe. I dreamt I had my wish fulfilled, my husband was > no more, I fell upon his lifeless corpse, and kissed him o'er , and o'er. Dearest darling, speak to me, I meant not what I said. 0 speak once more unto your wife, say you are not dead. 0 sure I am not, Mar)- dear. I woke up with a scream. And found my husband standing by; his death was but a dream. Ever since that time, when I feel disposed to be unkind, The warning of that fearful dream comes fresh into my mind; Although it costs me a pang to know the life he leads, 1 strive to greet him with a smile when oft my poor heart bleeds. I'll humbly put my trust in God, and ask for strength to bear, The trials he has sent on earth for all of us to share, < And if by patience, I should change to my hus- , band's wandering life, He'll bless the hour that dream was sent to his 1 neglected wife. 1 /^/ \i n * \i \j Select ptsmlatm. i |, BATTLE OF COWPENS. , As public attention is now directed to this . battle, the following from Dr. Johnson's j work will be read with interest: Col. Henry Lee and other writers agree 1 that the position taken for this battle was Hot well selected, and reflect on Gen. Morgan , for having retired the day before to this from a better stiuation. They were not aware of his reasons for this movement. In the "Mag- , nolia," of Jan. 1843, p. 38, it is fully ex- ! plained by Maj. McJunkin, of Union Dis- ( trict, with minutae that could only be rela- 1 ted by an eye-witness. He had been detached under Col. Win. "Washington by Morgan, against the Tories assembled at Hammond's ( store. Having dispersed them, he was re- ( turning to Morgan's encampment, at Grean- , dall's Shoal, on the Pacolet He now learn- , ed that Tarleton was advancing on the road , leading to the Easterwood Shoal, above this position, intending to attack the rear of Morgan's detachment. "Washington hastened with the information and communicated it at midnight to Morgan. The retrogade move- ( meat was made the next day to counteract , Tarleton's intention. This was confirmed by Capt. Thos. "Young, of Union District, , who was alive as late as 1847, (see Johnson's , Tradition, p. 449,) also by Col. James Si- ] mons, father of Col. James Simons, Speaker ] of the House, who at that time held a Lieut- ] enant's commission under Washington, (see , the same Traditionsj p. 300.) The follow- j ing description of that battle is copied from I j a MS. of Col. Samuel Hammond, and pub- j j lisbed in the same work, p. 526 : j j On the evening of the 16th January, 1781, j j General Morgan eucamped near a place call-;, ed the Cowpens. The author of these remarks, (Col. S. Hammond, beiug then out with a detachment,) did not join the camp until 8 o'clock in the evening, when he was | Informed by the general that he intended to give the enemy battle next morning, if he 1 should press hard upon him. The ground ] on which the troops were placed, was a small i ridge, crossing the road nearly at right an- j t gles. A similar ridge, nearly parallel with i this, lay between three hundred and five huu- ! t dred yards in his rear. The valley between ; < was made by a gentle slope; it was, of course, 11 brought within range of the eye ; passing ] from one to the other ridge, the land was i thickly covered with red oak and hickory, , ] with little if any underbrush. The valley < extending to the right of the general's camp i < terminated in a small glade or savanna. < Orders had been issued to the militia, to j have twenty-four rounds of ball prepared 11 and ready for use, before they retired to rest. J: A general order, forming the disposition of 1 the troops, in case of coming to action, had I been prepared, and was read to Colonels ] l'ickensand McCall, Major Jackson and the author of these notes in the course of the j eveniug. No copy was ever afforded to ei- 1 ther of these officers, before the battle, aud j ( the author of these notes has never since : i seen them, but in the course of the same ^ evening he made the followiug notes upon ? them, then fresh in his memory, and which ? were shown to Major Jackson and Colonel ( McCall, and approved by them as correct ?s ] far as they went. To show those concerned 1 what would be their stations, the author drew ( out a rough sketch of the disposition sent 1 forth in the general order, and after the ac- c tion, the rough sketch of the enemy's posi- 1 tion was added. No perfect or accurate a sketch of the enemy's position was ever drawn : this was only taken by the eye, not by mathematical instruments; and yet no opportunity has been afforded of correcting it. Nevertheless, this gives you a still better idea of the affair, than could be obtained without it. The order commenced in substance thus: As the enemy seemed resolved to force us into action, numbers and spirits of this little band of patriot soldiers seemed to justify the general in the belief that they may be met with confidence, defeated and driven back. To prepare for which, the following order will be observed : The front line will be composed of that part of Conolel McCall's regiment of South Carolina State troops who have not been equipped as dragoons, under the command of Major Hammond; the G eorgia volunteers, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Cunningham, and the North Carolina volunteers, under the command of Major McDowal. Colonel Cunningham will take post on the right, Major McDowal on the left of the line, southwest of the road, upon the rising ground beyond the valley in front, three hundred to three hundred and fifty yards in the refr of this cantomeut or camp, with the left resting upon the road. Major Hammond will take post on the left of the road iu line with Colonel Cunningham, supported upon the left by Captain Doncly, of the Georgia refugees. The second line will be composed of the continental regiment of Maryland troops, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Howard; on the left of the second line,, falling back one hundred yards in its rear, a continuation of the second line, or third line, will be formed, advancing its left wing towards the enemy, so as to bring it nearly parallel with the left of the continental troops, upon the second line. The Virginia militia, commanded by Major Triplet, with the South Carolina militia, commanded by Captain Beaty, will form to the right of the second line; the left nearly opposite to the right of the second line, one hundred yards iu its rear; the right extendingtowards the enemy, so as to be opposite to, or parallel with the second line.? The main guard will hold its present position, and be commanded as at present by Col. Washington's cavalry, with such of Colonel i McCall's regiment of new raised South Carolina troops as have been equipped for dra- i goons, will be a reserve, and form in the rear of Col. Pickens, beyond the ridge, one or : two hundred yards, and nearly opposite the ' aiain guard, north of the road. 1 Morgan was up and moving about his camp, 1 nost of the night preceding this battle, con- 1 rersing with the men, assisting them when i aot fully equipped, and ascertaining that all 1 bad their proper quantity of fixed ammuni- i lion for the next day. The militia were 1 posted in advance of the regulars, and hav- i ing been authorized to take each a tree, com- ' menced the action, as Tarleton advanced a- I bout sunrise. He advanced with his caval- i ry on a trot, with a loud halloo, and Morgan 1 ordered the Indian whoop to return. The 1 militia being well officered, well posted, and i in high spirits, fired deliberately and' with I great effect. John Savage fired the first gun, I and after their third discharge, they were i ordered'to retire and form again in the rear. 1 They did so with astonishing coolness and 1 regularity. The regulars fired in a sheet of ] flame from right to left, and met the attack i of the British 71st regiment in perfect order i and discipline. Tarleton again advanced on < the American lines, but Morgan had provi- 1 dedforhim. Washington had been authori- ] zed to call for volunteers from among the i militia, and many who were well mounted 1 joined him, and added greatly to his strength. : Washington met the attack of Tarleton and : repulsed him, then wheeled upou the flank i of the British line, which was charged by 1 the continental regulars, and captured the I whole battalion of the 71st regiment, with i their two pieces of artillery and two compa- < aies of infantry. Tarleton was pursued in I liis retreat by Washington, and wounded by < him, but escaped. The result was that three i hundred of Tarleton's corps had boon killed < ind wounded, and the British regulars cap- < :ured numbering 500. The victory was com- t plete. Eight hundred, stands of arms, two i ield pieces and thirty-five baggage wagons 1 fell into the hands of the Americans. The 1 prisoners were escorted off into Virginia, and ] lelivcrcd up in safety. 1 THE BALANCES OF LIFE. \ From the Pennsylvania Inquirer we take ( ;he following suggestive article : We have often thought, in examining calmy and carefully into the various phases of luman existence, in analysing the bills of mortality, and comparing the changes and :he chances that occur in the fortunes of the i rich and the poor, the proud and the humble, t :hat despite the broad contrasts that appear ( >n the surface of things,?despite the fact t ;hat the many seem miserable, and the few 1 aappy, comparatively speaking, the enjoy- 1 nents of this world are more nicely balanced, t more wisely and equitably divided, than the l superficial are apt to imagine. We now * speak in a general sense, and not with refer- c mce to individual cases. The position, too, I is it seems to us, is rational. Why should Lho few be favored at the expense of the i many ? Why should a handful of human } beings be selected out as the recipients of t the high favors of fortune, of health and ? happiness, to the neglect of the millions?? c Why should the rich by inheritance, or by fJ iome sudden turn of prosperity, be eminent- ^ y contented in mind, and exempt from the ! t >rdinary cares to which flesh is heir, and the t Multitude, equally upright, intelligent and si ,-irtuous, be subjected to every species of c mxiety and anguish ? It is not so. Such > i law would conflict with the beneficent prin- ; riples of the Author of our being, and the i [luler of the World. It would chill the i leart of philanthropy, and deaden the in- 1 sentives to virtue. It would discourage the i over of this, and retard the onward march t >f humanity. But, we repeat, it is not so. 1 rhe enjoyments of life are nicely distributed s ind wisely balanced. However, desirable t 1''- . . * wealth may be, however, power and place may be coveted?it by no means follows that either is inevitably associated with happiness. And assuredly not, when the means of attainment have been tortuous, unfair, unmanly or dishonest. We are among those who believe that while virtue has its own reward, vice is sure to be accompanied or followed by an adequate punishment. And thus, we hold the doctrine that, however dizzy the elevation, or however Cloesus-likc the wealth there cannot be ease of mind, calm of spirit and repose of conscience, if fraud and treachery and crime have formed " the rungs of the ladder," through which the elevation has been attained. Nay, in the very supposed hour of enjoyment and of triumph, some unseen, some unexpected calamity will be sure to track the footsteps of the ambitious and the avaricious. Sickness will come with its debilitating and paralyzing influence, the loved ones of the soul will be born away in the.anns of death, a sudden expose will darken and overshadow reputation, and thus life, although apparently golden and glittering, will be hollow, empty and vain. On the other hand, the moderate in circumstances, but the pure in heart, the individual who is of a cheerful and contented spirit, who is in the full enjoyment of health, and of all his faculties, who is regular in his habits, and correct in his social disciplines, who has no gnawing adder of remorse eating away at his conscience, whose sleep is deep and tranquil, aud whose waking moments are free from self-reproach ?surely such a person, aud there are thousands and tens of thousands of such in all the walks of humble life, is, comparatively speaking, a happy and an envied being. lie appreciates his position, is grateful for the blessings he enjoys, aud while prompted by a laudable desire to attain an independent position, he does not fret his soul away in bitter jealousy at the success of others, and would not, for the mines of Golconda, wrong' a friend, malign a neighbor, defraud a fellow nrnntnrn nr flnrt-nn mc mnmnrv in nil fiinn t.n , "V ? come, by the perpetration of any base or unworthy act. True, he may live for years, and only live. He may find it difficult to save anything for a rainy day; and at times, for such is the human lot, he may have his trials, his temptations, his anxieties and his pangs. But, with a due reliance upon self and upon Providence, with a consciousness that all is right within?with the proud satisfaction that if the grave should claim him to-morrow, he would pass away without a dark spot upon his character, a perpetual sunshine may be said to play around his heart, to etherialize his mind and spirit, and to rob even care of its frown. It is thus, we contend, that the hopes and the pleasures of life arc nicely and wisely balanced. On the other hand, how many temptations is wealth subjected to, from which poverty is exempt?temptations in a thousand forms, and which the affluent themselves do not realize until too late.? rhere is no greater curse in this world than idleness?there is no more miserable man than an idler. lie cither is often the victim of bad habits, or the prey of morbid fancies. Ilis imagination is quick and active, he becomes miserable, and he scarcely knows why ! The subject is a fruitful one, and capable of many illustrations. The true philmthropy is to appreciate and enjoy the comforts we possess, the blessings that are vouched to us, and not to wander after forbidden fruits, covet our neighbors property, or aspire beyond reasonable bounds. If we look iround us, we will find that there are others c?_ lui icaa ia>uiuuijr tiiuuuisiauwcu ttiau uuiselves, and who yet arc cheerful, contented md grateful. There are certain laws which govern human society, either of which if violated constantly and habitually will be attended with bitter consequences. This, all should remember when examining their own cases, and complaining of their own misfortunes. Thus lie who is habitually treacherous or false, cannot look for confidence aud respect on the part of his friends and associates. And thus again, he who is idle and iissolute, will be sure, sooner or later to pay :he adequate penalties. And so too he who s careless and neglectful, may look for careessncss and neglect, with regard to his farniy, his friends, his business and his fortune. Each should act according to his position, lis means and his responsibilities, aud with efcrence, not only to self and to times, but ;o society, and a higher, holier and happier condition in the life to come. "Act well your part, There all the honor lies." THE DEVOTION OP A WIPE. One of the most remarkable instances on ecord of the unfaltering devotion of a wife o her husband, under the most trying and lreadful circumstances, is given in the hisory of the Monroe tragedy-, iu Coles county, Illinois. A. F. Monroe killed his father-in-1: aw?Ellington?in a light, in which Klliug;on struck the first blow. Public opinion i vas so violent against Monroe that the court ind even the attorneys for the defence were >verawed, and a change of venue, which was i cegged by the prisoner, was not obtaiued.? i rim attorney of Monroe feared to atmlv for < - - J lrv I t, apprehending murderous designs on the < iart of the people. The trial proceeded and j 1 lie jury did not dare to find the prisoner i ruilty of anything but murder in the first j < legree, and he was sentenced to be hanged. 1 fhe (Governor, impressed that.something was < vroug in the case, granted a respite of nine- I y days, and the mob broke into the jail aud 11 Iraggcd Monroe out and hung him. Amid ; 1 CO 0 ill this terrible storm of infuriated public j 1 .pinion, though his wife's father was the j 1 rictim in whose name the cry for vengeance I vas raised, aud he had been a fast man, hav- 1 ng drank hard and kept bad company, Mon- < oe retained the love of his " Nannie" to the i ast. "When he had been murdered by the < nob, she begged for his remains, and had hem transported to a burial place, a few < niles above Newport, on the Licking river, < ind there with her child in her arms, stood i he only mourner by his grave. Three days 1 before his death she wrote to her husband as follows. The person whom she mentions as Pole, is N. B. Aulich, a distant relative of her husband : Charleston, (111.) Feb. 12th, 185G. My Ever Dear Husband :?How miserable you must be. My very heart aches for you. I have not given up yet?I still have hope. I am now at Mr. Bail's with Pole and Ma. Pole has been a brother to me and a true friend to you. 1 intend to make his home my home, wherever that may be?I hope a good ways from here?the farther from here the better. I would rather die to-night than stay here among my enemies, for those who are your enemies are mine, and your friends are my friends. As soon as I can make arrangements jmd' get the means, I will leave this town, never* to return. May is well. Farewell, but I hope not forever. I subscribe myself your true aud devoted wife, Nannie Monroe, And proud to own it. ? ?? >? - ? THE CHERISHED HOPE. Amid the ills and woes of life. That come but to destroy, There looms a fond and cherished hope That fills our hearts with joy; It nestles in the bosoms of The friends that here must part, And sheds a ray of sunshine o'er The bruised and broken heart. It makes us bear our lot through life With smiles instead of tears, And lulls to rest the wounded form That's rent with boding fears, It is the hope?the cherished hope? That we shall meet above; Where pain and sorrow never come, But all is joy and love. BATTLE OP RIVAS. Six hundred Costa Ricons Killed?.American Loss 30?Total Rout of the Enemy. Rivas has again been the field of a bloody conflict. On the morning of the 7th, intelligence reached Grenada that immediately after the departure of the American troops from Rivas, a forpe of fifteen hundred or two thousand Costa Ricans entered and took possession of the city. As the information was authentic there was no time to be lost on the part of Gen. Walker in making ready to repulse the enemy. By daylight on the 18th inst., a force of five hundred men, including one hundred native troops, were on the march from Grenada to engage the presumptuous invader. Gen. Walker, in person, was at the head of the array. The force under his command encamped the night of the 10th, within nine miles of Rivas, and in the meantime it Jhad been ascertained byyond doubt that the city was held and fortified by two thousand Costa Ricans and Chanorictas. Early on the morning of the 11th the march was resumed, with the prospect ahead of a lively engagement. Evidently to the surprise of the enemy, the Democratic force instead of entering the city by the usual route from Grenada, came in by the road leading from San Jago or Vir- , gin Bay. The troops, without halting, were assign- , cd their respective positions, and instructed , as to appropriate points of attack. The bat talion under command of Col. Sanders, was J ordered to enter by the street leading along < the west side of the Plaza, and the east side was to be charged by the force under com- < mand of Col. Fry. With a whoop and a j yell, a rush was made for the Plaza, and as ] the troop9 were discovered by the enemy as- 1 cending the eminence which concealed the ( approach to the city, they were saluted with ] a volley of musketry, which gave indication ] of a firm and obstinate resistance. On both j sides of the Plaza a brisk and incessant fir- j ing was kept up by the enemy, but the fearless and undaunted forces of the Democra- i cy charged them with so much rapidity, that \ in less than five miuutes the Americans were ] in entire possession of the Plaza. The Cos- . ta Ricans shunning an open attack, precipi- j tately betook themselves to the barricades | and fortressed houses, and from their places ( of protection and concealment, continued an \ unremitting fire. Their cannon, too, with , thundering voice, gave testimony of the effi- ] cicncy of the preparations for defence. To < prevent the destruction that must inevitably i ensure from so fatal an engine of war, the j determination was iustantly formed and car- i ried into execution by Lieut. Colonel San- ( ders, of taking it from the possession of the < enemy. < The order to charge was given, and the j gallant Colonel, followed by his intrepid sol- i diers, rushed, heedless of peril, into the face < of danger, and, with the loss of four men ( only, succeeded in capturing that essential j weapon of war. It was immediately brought t and stationed at the northeast corner of the ( plaza, and under the control of Capt. Mc- ] Caudle, a most excellent and intrepid artil- { lerist. The ammunition belonging to it was s also seized, and a few minutes only elapsed } before the weapon that was destined for the t destruction of the Democratic forces, was s pouring a fatal fire upon the Costa Ricans. i Enraged at the loss of their gun, they made g several bold attempts to repossess it; but its 1 thundering tone, rapidly followed by the ^ deadly discharges of the Mississippi rifle, in- o timidated their eudeavors, and drove them j back to their place of concealment. In the o meantime, fifteen or twenty riflemen station- n 2d themselves on the roof of a building, from *] 1 l . 1 ill*. I T 1 1 svnicn tney couia piainiy aiscern a large do- h Jy of the enemy on*the back street. A con- a tinuous fire was kept up by these gallant lj fellows, anil at least a hundred of the enemy fell from their destructive aim. The conflict became too fierce for the euemy and three s hundred of them were discerned making ( their rapid retreat in the direction of ]{ ^an Juan del Sur. Following the retreat ( jf these, about twelve o'clock the cue- u my received a reinforcement of two bun- v ired and fifty men from Virgin Bay. Capt. a Waters, of tlie Hangers, who held possession )f the tower surmounting the unfinished jathedral on the north side of the plaza, im- s mediately communicated to Gen. Walker in- e formation of their approach, and a body of S men was sent to protect that portion of the town. In the meantime, Captain "Waters and his Rangers, from their convenient position, opened upon them with their rifles, and did most signal execution. The intention of the enemy of surrounding the city and hemming in Walker's forces in the Plaza, was thwarted with the most gratifying success. The N. W. corner was held by Don Bruno Natzmcr and Maj. O'Neil with their command, and over a hundred dead bodies of the enemy gave signal proof of the gallantry of these officers, and the intrepidity of their men. The southwest corner was in charge of Captains Rudier and Mason, with their companies, and that, with the exception of the position held by Lieut. Col. Sanders, was the one from which the greatest danger was to to be apprehended. Those brave officers and their brave men maintained their ground against a concealed fire with a firmness and courage deserving of the highest commendation. Some of our noblest spirits, in the exhibition of this point of feeling and undaunted courage, foil martyrs in the cause of democracy.? Among them, it should not be deemed in vidious to mention Lieut. Morgan, of Gen. Walker's staff, and Lieut. Doyle, of the army, men of as sterling heroism and as true hearts as ever belonged to humanity. From three corners of the Plaza a constant fire was maintained from eight o'clock in-the morning uulil noon. Four hours of unremitting service in the field, following a tedious march of more-than two days, had necessarily the effect of burdening energies of the soldiers with irresistible fatigue. The enemy toe seemed to have'be come weary of the fight, and little firing for an hour was done on cither side, except by sharp shooters adventuring chances at long distances. The temporary cessation of hostilities by the enemy was discovered to be a ruse foi the purpose of secretly possessing themselves of the building on the northeast corner of the Plaza, where, unarmed, they could pout a destructive fire upon the American troops stationed in every direction upon the Plaza. This stratagem of the enemy was discovered by Lieut. Gay, and communicated by him to Gen. Walker. Ten true and fearless men armed with rifles and Colt's revolvers, were required to dispossess the enemy of theii position. They were composed of Capts. ITonton and Sutter, of Walkers staff; Col. Kcwen, Maj. Webber, Capts. Beckerbridge and Mahon; Lieuts. Winter, Stith and Gay. A few privates joined, making the nurabei thirteen. Crossing the street under fire. they pressed through the corner of the build' ing that was sought to be possessed by the enemy, to the far end of the corridor, which was partially barricaded by an adobe 01 breastwork. From that position they cautiously surveyed the enemy, and hastily determining the plan of operations, the ordei to charge was given, and with a yell and a bound they rushed in the direction of the picket-fence, behind which the enemy were cautiously making progress. The yell was immediately responded to by a roll of thirty guns, but as the attack was so sudden, the disconcerted foe were unable to aim with precision, and the only damage effected was a slight wound inflicted upon the hand of Captain Breckenridge, not interfering at all with his prosecuting the charge. The fence was gained without loss, and thence a brisk Bre opened upon the retreating enemy. They Bed for protection behind a neighboring building, whence with more security they lould prevent pursuit. It was necessary, however, that they should be driven entirely from that vicinity; and in order to get a position to effect that object, it was necessary to cross a street exposed to the enemy's fire. It was a hazardous experiment, as the opposition force was ascertained to be more than a hundred, strong. Nothing daunted, however, the thirteen essayed the perilous tdventurc, and although the bullets whistled in fearful proximity to them, not a man was touched. The position they sought was gained, and then in earnest the crack of the rifle became the death knell of the foe. The ;nemy sought to retain their ground and returned the fire with apparent zeal and jagerness. In this engagement Capt. Houston fell, mortally wounded. "With his parting spirit cc.aped the pulsation of a true and paliant heart. As an atonement for the Jeatli of Capt. II. not less than thirty of the memy were made to bite the dirt. The fire )f the remaining twelve beenme too disastrous for the Costa Ricans to brave, and they wore enmnelleil a^aiu to relincmish their no 1 ~r> -1 rlitiou and seek shelter elsewhere. They be*au a precipitate retreat, but were hotly purged. Fortifying themselves behind a wall hey again turned upon their pursuers and >peued a determined fire. In the assaults Lieut. Gay was wounded. The enemy again led with the loss of eight or ten more, and iucceeded in reaching the building from belind, where they again sought to repulse he advance of the Americans. In the puruit Lieut. Gay was mortally wounded, and 'French Louis" killed. The enemy made ;ood their retreat. The fight on the plaza lad almost ceased, and during the day and light there was little firing, except by a few f the enemy around, with Minnie rffles, firng from concealed places. The possessors f these weapons were Englishmen and Geroans who had long experience in their use. ^e majority of the Americans fell at the lands of these foreign miscreants, who have Hied themselves with servilisra against the iberal party of Central America. Very Important to Farmers.?Take ome shelled corn, and run a horse hair hrough the graiu with a needle, and tie a not in the hair close to the grain and sow hem in corn fields, and the crows will pick p this grain with the hair in it, and it rill tickle them and they will kill themselves scratching. Doubtful.?The Philadelphia Bulletin tates that a printing office in that city was ntered a few evenings since and robbed of 300. Hard to believe. j i "THE WIFE FOR ME." i Horace Hastings was a sober, sensible enterprising bachelor, of some seven-and-twenty years, who having obtained an excellent reputation for his industry and integrity, and having made himself useful to the mercantile firm in Boston, with whom be had i served an apprenticeship, was at length ini vited to a partnership in the concern. For some time he had been encouraged to anticipate this elevation, and he soberly and energetically entered upon the new duties of his position. When business crowded, he had but little leisure to mourn, over hifl celibate condition; but when the hurrying season was over, and hours each day hung heavy on his hands, he could not help thinking how delightful it would be had he but a house , and a gentle wife of his own. His pecuniai ry circumstances now warranted such luxu. ries, and he resolved to marry when he could find a lady "ju& suited to the mind." * Near a country village in Maine, not a thousand miles from Bangor, lived an old friend of his father; and being on a collect. ing tour in that region during the autumn . months he determined to accept an oft-repeated invitation to spend a few days with .1- - 11 ll __ 1 X - X ? . me oici genueman, anu sent a note aiiiiuuuei ing his coming. i At the appointed time he reached the resi idence of his old friend, and found Ihat the . family were prepared and pleased to welcome r him as a guest. In the parlor were two young i ladies, well-dressed, and quite handsome.? ! He was duly introduced to Miss Jane and i Charlotte, and found them accomplished and i sensible young ladies. Being just now very , susceptible to the tender passion, he was i easily plased, and exerted his powers to ren. der himself agreeable to the flattered maidens. He succeeded, of course. Sensible > men, of his age and prospects always do, when they try. And his eye wandering in i conversation from one handsome, intelligent face to another, he several times caught him self mentally inquiring, "which would make i the better wife?" The mother, and a neat-looking maid were I seen at intervals passing from the kitchen i preparing the supper. The girl who set out > the table, and spread the white stainless ' cloth, and arranged the plates, seemed to do ' it gracefully and quietly, as if she had made such duties a study as a science, and won a passing glance of admiration as a very neat ' and pretty servant?a model of a "help." Altogether, he thought it was a charming family. When they sat at the cheerful sup - 1 t_ - A A _ J xl_ - 1! ^ti 1 , per, ana ne tasiea wie ugut, uume-muue bread, and the sweet, fresh butter, and the s thinly sliced home-cured beef, the hot, welli flavored tea, the excellency and good taste manifested in the whole ordering, he felici tuted himself upon having found so pleasant a home, even if it was for a few days. After ' supper was over and the table was cleared, i a third young lady, very neatly dressed, eni tered the room, and was formally introduced ! to him as one of the sisters, Miss Sarah. He i was not a little surprised to find that the neat servant girl, whose handiwork had won his admiration, was one of the sisters. He found her sprightly, cheerful, and accomplished, and he thought a little more graceful than Jane, who was older, or Charlotte, who was younger than herself. He thought a little more meanly of himself, for having taken her to be a hired girl in the family, but not a whit more meanly of her for having revealed herself in that capacity. And his perplexity was somewhat increased as he sat down on his bedside in the chamber to which he was shown by his host, and said to himself, "which of the three?" In the morning, after a night's sound sleep?for he was not sufficiently in love to keep him awake?he entered the breakfastroom, and was soon joined by the two young ladies who had first welcomed him. Sarah was not yet visible; but when they sat down at the table, and Jane had poured the coffee, Sarah came smiling in behind a clean white apron, and with a steaming pile of hot buckwheat cakes in her hand, which, from the hue of her cheeks, she had just been baking. If there were a blush on her cheek any eye might see it was forced there by the fire, and not by any sense of degradation, on account of the office she gracefully filled. She greeieu me gueut vmn u weieumc suiuc ueposited her load of edibles, and returned to the kitchen, whence she tripped again in a few minutes, with another plate of cakes, most beautifully baked by her own skill.? Horace ate a large quantity of them, more than enough merely to satisfy hunger, because of the beautiful little hands that made them. And then he wandered over the farm with the old man, and prated of horses and cows, and crops, as though he knew something about them, as well as broadclothes and calicoes. At dinner time Jane and Charlotte were in the parlor waiting for him, and Sarah, as usual, was bustling about the kitchen. "I do wish," said he, sotto voce, "that one of those girls would take ; Sarah's place in the kitchen, a little while, j that I might find out some of their house- ( keeping qualities, and that I might have a little more chat with her." But he waited for such a change in vain, i though he found some opportunities of con- i verse, and discovered all he wished to know j just then about her mental qualifications j ' 1 ! - ? J -A aU_ -1- C IV. ana acquirement; auu me eiuae ui me ] fourth day, just before he got into bed, he ? slapped the white counterpane emphatically, and said to it?as there was nobody in the room I suppose he must have spoken to the counterpane or the bedpost?"She's the wife for mc." The next day was the outer limit of his I visit; and as he stood at the window after breakfast he saw Sarah, with that witching white apron, trip out into the orchard, to shake down some apples, for it was baking day, and pies were to be made. Horace strolled out after her, and shook the tree, and helped to pick up the apples, and carried the basket as they returned slowly to the t house. What it was he whispered in her ear she never told, but she seemed not dis-. pleased, though evidently surprised, and a little frightened. A year after, Horace was at the house of his old friend again, and this time Sarah was not so much in the kitchen. There were great preparations for a wedding going forward, and in a few days Sarah became Mrs. Horace Hastings; and now, in a splendid Boston mansion, she fully justifies the wisdom of her dear husband's choice, by being to him a most excellent wife, and a superlative house-keeper'.?Real Estate Register. Dickens thus describes a visit to the pow- *r der mill of fcounslow, near London : "In this silent region, amid whose ninety-seven work places no human voice ever breaks nnon the ear. and where, indeed, no * -f / r r T human form is seen, except in the isolated house in which his allotted task is performed, there are upward of two hnndred and fifty work people. They are a peculiar race, not of course by nature, in most cases, but by the habit of years. The circumstances of momentary destruction in which they ' ' live, added to the most stringent and neces! sary regulations, have subdued their minds and feelings to the condition of their hire.? There is seldom any need to enforce these regulations. Some terrific explosion here, or in works of a similar sort elsewhere, leaves a fixed mark in their memories, and acts as a constant warning. "Here no shadow of a practical joke or caper of animal spirits ever transpires?no witticism, no chaffing, or slang. A laugh is never heard, a smile never seen. Even the work is carried on by the men with as few words as possible, and these uttered in a low tone. Not that any body fancies that mere sound will awaken the spirit of combustion or cause an explosion to take place, but their feelings are always kept subdued. If one man wishes to communicate anything to another, or ask for anything frota any body at a short distance, he must go there?he is never permitted to shout or call out. There is a particular reason for this last regulation. Amid all this silence, whenever a shout does occur, everybody knows that some imminent danger is expected the next moment, and all rush away headlong from the direction of the shout. As to running toward' it to ^ n> ! . _ _n .a oner any assistance, as common in mi outer cases, it is thoroughly understood that none can be afforded. "An accident here is immediate and beyond remedy. If the shouting be continued for some time, (for a man might be drowning in a river,) that might cause some one or two of the boldest to return; but. this would be a very rare occurrence. It is by no means to be inferred that the men are selfish and insensible to the peril of each other; on the contrary, they have the great-' est consideration for each other, as well as for their employers, and think of the danger to the lives of others, and of property at stake at all times, and more especially in the more dangerous houses. The proprietors of the various gunpowder mills all display the same consideration to each other, and whenever any improvement tending to lessen danger is made in one, it is immediately communicated to all others. The wages of the men are good, and the hours very short; no artificial lights are ever used in the work. They leave the mill at half-past three in the afternoon, winter and summer." THE DEAD OF OUB CABINET. The lecture of Hon. Mr. Tyler, last Thursday evening, was an eloquent and impressive tribute to some of the greatest names of America. Mr. Tyler began with the accomplished Hugh Swinton Legare, of South Carolina, who occupied the post of Attorney General in his Cabinet, and died while holding that post. To the versatility of his talents, the accuracy and range of his information on all subjects of law, common and civil, municipal, constitutional and international, he rendered the highest praise; and as an evidence of the justice of the estimate he placed on his character, he remarked that no deliberate opiniun of his was ever conaw Kw flin onnratno ln^t tlUYC.VCU U1 ,uv U?j,.v?vr-. cial tribunal of the land. Mr. L. died in 9 Boston, whither he had gone to participate with Mr. Tyler in the famous Bunker Hill celebration of 1843. The lecturer next gave an analysis of the character of those distinguished sons of Virginia, Oilman and Upshur?the former Secretary of the Navy, the latter occupying successiucly the chair of chief of the Navy and State Departments. He concluded his remarks on this head with a vivid description of the melancholy catastrophe of the Prioeton, by which, on the 28th of February, 1844, they both were snatched in an instant from the sphere of, life, usefulness and honor. Mr. Tyler then paused a minute to lay his meed of praise on the tombs of those two "representative men" of our time, Calhoun and Webster, over whose remains it must have been a grateful, though melan:holy task, ; Spargere rotas, sparg ere breves floret." He concluded by a brief allusion to some members of his cabinet who still live, and ivhose services and talents deserve mention m an address devoted to their companions, md closed with an eloquent allusion to the rapidly approaching day when they and he ihall follow the departed in the dusty way )f death, and their fellow countrymen shall ?y, ave et vale 1 to them all.?Southiide Democrat. the examination of a vritnena is to the locality of the stairs in a house the :ounsel asked him: 11Which way did the stairs run ?" The witness, who, by the way, is a noted Tag, replied: "One way they ran up stairs, but the oth;r .way they ran down stairs." The learned counsel winked both eyes, ind then took a look up at the ceiling. 19* Beware of a silent dog and still water.