The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, September 15, 1854, Image 1
I * *
omn
VOL 1.
~ jj t.foutljtnt l^iitrrjuiac,
A KEFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS.
wsTWWiAum IP- iPiRacaas,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
rr. J. &W. P. Price, Publishers.
>1 50, pavnhlo in ndvnnco ; |2if (lelnycA
CUJlW of TRN and upwnrds $1, tho nionoy
tin every instnnee to accompany the order.
ADVKltTiSKMKNTVi inserted conspicuously at
the rates of 15 cents per square of 1 :t lines, and
25 cents for each subsequent insertion. Contracts
for yearly advertising mndo reasonable.
Original ^octnj.
For the Southern Enterprise.
3) Ire q to 3. 1
BT GENEVIEVE. ,
Alas, that drsams arc all dreams!
And Love is but a passing?
Which oft deceive ; yet In this delusion
"We still will live and drogm of bliss.
Wo lrnAlF flint flntrnro fil/wim 1*??+ #a A !a
Yet they pleasure to the heart doth give;
Though their stay be brief, yet in our memory
Their sweetness long remains.
So we are by tho dreams of fir*t love, (
"Which Hope clothes in garbs of Happiness? ,
"Which prove transient, and we are awakened j
To find 'twas but a dream. ,
"Tis then we find the thorn ]
"Which was hidden 'nsnth their velvet folds (
dextrously, that we ne'er would dream
A poison so near so sweet a fount. i
But thero 'e one dream, in which will lasting
prove?
Wliich bears happiness on its wings ? I
No delusive dream; no I Truth's its garb:
That dream is Heaven !
, i
JUiscellatttaua JUniiing.
$Jql;e q Chq^qdei- foir tfoulrseif.
It is related of Girard, that when a young
/NAtvtMliotrin/? Kaiirslif nn/1 nahl C... ?
U mt^UKUi, unvui^ aswiagsau onu ivi it
bag of coffee, proceeded to wheel it home
himself, the shrewd old merchant immediately
offered to trust his new customer to as
many more bags as the latter might .desire.
The trait of character revealed by the young
man in being his own porter, had given the
millionaire confidence in him at once. His
reputation was made with Girard. Ho became
a favored dealer with tUe enterprising
merchant, throve rapidly, and in the end
amassed a fortune.
No mere capital will do so much for young
men as character. Nor will always even
capital and connexion combined. In our
own oxpcricnoe, we havo known many beginners
who have utterly failed, though backed
by ample means, and assisted by the influence
of a large circle of friends. In some
casesjndeed, considerable experience, as well
as industry and perseverance, have been ftded
to those advantages, yet without securing
success. Wo have known such persons,
tor a failure in their first pursuit, no better
result, although still assistod by capital, by
friends, and even by their own activity. The
secret was that they had missed, somehow,
making a character for themselves.
On tne other hand, it is a common occurrence
to see young men begin without a cent,
yet rabidly rise to fortune. They achieve
this triumph by establishing a reputation for
being competent business men. Few are so
fortunate as to do this by a single characteristic
act, liko tho purchaser who wonGirard's
good will by wheeling home the bag; for
generally neither veteran merchants are as
shrewd as the famous millionaire, nor voiing
dealer* as energetic as this customer. But i
A consistent life of sagacity, economy and in- j
<1 us try, invariably establishes the nght kind (
of reputation in the end. Confidence grows
up, in infiuential quarters, towards the young i
beginner. Old merchants shake their heads '
*l>p"?*ing!y, Kr,d say, "he is of the right i
Muff and will get along." Credit comes, as <
it were unsought. Connexion follows. The <
reputation of Hie new aspirant widens and \
deepen# ; his transactions begin to be quoted ]
41a authority; trade flows on him from every (
quarter; and in a few yaaro he setires with <
? competence, or remains to become a millionaire.
All this is the result of establishing
M the outset, a character of the right sort. ,
We may say to every young man. about 1
to start in life, make a character for yourself ,
jtsioonaa jpsftible. Lot it also be a distinc- |
lire mm. It is better to have a name for ex- j
seeding all others in some one thing than to |
enjoy simply notoriety for mere general roer- ,
it, Are vou a mechanic out strip your felknrain
skill. Are you a yoilng lawyer! j
become superior in a particular branch. Are <
you a clerk I be the boat book-keeper your <
employers have. Are yon in a Store ? make ,
fo*)Me|f acquainted with the various buyers. ,
In short beoome known for an excellence ,
. peculiar to yourself; acquire a speciality, as ,
A ie called; and success is certain, because ,
yon will have, es it were a raouoply, and can
dictate your own terms.
m
.
.
>4 7 r* Vi*m> . **. ^ -y N^
i m@tt?
II '?."HM^S=r.Ja? II'1 .=?, 1MIB " 1 .rtTGRKENVI
Money may bo lost, without fault of our
own by some one or another of the accidents
of life. Couuexious may be broken up, by
death or failure, or change of interests. But
characters remains through all. It belongs
to tho individuals, and is above the changes
of fate. Thousands, who have lost all else
have recovered themselves, by having a character
to start a new with ; but no man without
a business character, lias ever risen from
the ruin caused by tho loss of capital, or llie
destruction of connexion.
T\/ t_ ir i i .i %i ? . .
ueocr <tqugi) qi jqe JHlTonuqqie.
There is nothing more despicable than
the habit which some people have,' of
laughing at the unfortunate. It betokens n
heart whoso generous impules hare either
been entirely eradicated, or crushed down
by pride and selfishness, and gives us no flattering
estimate of the character that can be
swayed by such base influences.
\ onder stands a poor cripple with a face
so full of untold agony, that you cannot gaxe
upon it moved. There are deep lines of care
around the tremulous lipe; the cheek is pale
and sunkon; the large hollow eyes are eloquent
with mournful meaning, and the dfirk
brow seem knit with an expression of perpetual
pain.
Two years ago she was "tho fairest of
Beauty's race," and life's brightest hopes
were before her. Her step was light and
elastic, and her form had all the graceful
symmetry of yputh and health. But disease
fastened its fangs upon her, and beneath the
scorching breath of fever her bloom and loveliness
faded. Long she appeared hovering
on the verge of the grave, but at length a
change came, and she slowly recovered
Once more she rose and went forth in the
haunts which her girlhood had loved, but
her old friends scarcely recognised her in the
feeble, wasted invalid. Now she looks timidly
around her almost despairing, for she
knows not how she shall thread her way
through the crowd, hurrying to and fro on
every hand. She has grown morbidly sensitive
during holiness, and her spirit shrinks
from the cold, c&reless glances of the throng.
Tears gather on her eye-lashes, and her whole
frame quivers like an aspen leaf.
How can that beautiful vounc Indv in h<?r
rich attire sweep so scornfully by the invalid,
and laugh derisively at the wretched creature,
as she moves onward ?
How can she saunter toward her home
with no remorseful thought of tho miserable
sufferer, whose face still glows with
the flush which that sneer aroused, and
whose aching heart yet thrills with tho pain
so carelessly inflicted ? IIow can she lie
down upon her sumptuous couch to-night
without a prayer for pardon I Ah 1 these
arc questions which we cannot answer.
At the comer of the street there is a little
frnit-stand, with half a dozen apples and
*s many pears ; two or three fine clusters of
grapes, and a few walnuts and almonds. An
>ld man sits beside it from early drawn till
eventide, anxiously watching the passers-by,
and murmuring broken words of thanks
when any one drops a coin into his bony
hand. His face is bronzed by exposure to
the sun and wind, and his thin locks are
bleached with care and sorrow.
But in the prime of his manhood ho was a
gallant soldier, and fought bravely for his
native land. It was while boldly defending
a fortress from the attacks of tho foe, that
Iris arm was shot away, and he v/jv& disabled
for active service. Change after change came;
iickness, poverty, woe; and now an exile, ho
lie earns the paltry sum which supports him
and his feeble wife at that scanty fruit stall.
Vet he often hears the mocking laugh, the
uruiging taunt, or the careless jest of those
who jeer at the unfortunate.
These arc not unusual occurrences. Alas,
no! they arobecoming too frequent, and
zannot pass over them in silence. It is
enough to endure poverty and hardship; it
is enough to toil and struggle without having
the heavy burden increased by scorn
and contempt.
To those who thus sport with misfortune,
we would say, do you ever ask yourselves
who niado you to differ?" I>o you realize
that you may be deprived of the blessings
which nave been lavished upon you ! It
would be well if you would think of these 1
things, and prepare for them. Above all,
earn to feel compassion and sympathy for
the sufferings of your fellow-beings, and nev- 1
sr again laugh at the unfortunate.
Immortality oy Maw.?? Why is it that
the rainbow nntttdoud come ovor us with a
oeauty that is not of earth, and then pass a*
way and leavo us to muse on their faded
ovelincss ? AThy is it that the stars, whicff''
tiold thoir^festival around their midnight
thrones, are set above the grasp of our limited
faculties, forever mocking unapproachable
rlory ? And why is it that bright forms of
liuiuan beauty are presented to our view and
taken from us, leaving tho thousand streams
affection to flow back in Alpine torrents
upon our heart! We arc born for a higher
leaUny than that of earth. There is a realm
where the rainbow never fade#, where the
iters will net out before at like islands that
dumber on the ocean, and where the beautiful
being that now paedfea before uftitiko the
Uietocr will stay in our presence.?Prentice.
? * t
?
LLF, S. C.: FRIDA1
* ^ e c p C o o i.
Can any ndvioo be tnore salutary for thin
raging weather? People, however, take different
methods of keeping cool. Some do
so by swallowing an immoderato quantity of
ices, and. in the cud, are warmer than if tliey
refraincd from attempting to turn themselves
into a refrigerator. If one could keep a
lump of ice nicely wrapped in flannel within
one's own private client all the time during
the heat of these hot days, why one might
stand a chance of keeping cool; but ice will
melt,'as well as "love grow cool," and when
the ice is melted, the reaction takes place and
the heat is greater than before.
Some keep cool by wearing wo6len dresses
and thick cloaks, on the principle of what
keeps cold out, will ke?'p heat out also.?
Others, on another plan from pithor .trp?a
eooj^ and instead of drinking lee water, drink
"fire water" knowing that two fire* never
meet. This system is pursued by somo with
impunity; whether it serves to keep cool or
not, is doubtful. The Spaniards follow this
method, and when the thenmometer is raging
at the baking point?which it generally
does from late in the spring till early in the
fall?they eat most of garlic, and peper, and
other spices. They are uot a remarkably
cool nation, however, and just now many of
them are in danger of being peppered from
without as well as within.
Our advice to keep cool is?keep in the
shade through the heat of the day, avoiding
all violent exercise; above all, do not attempt
writing?none but editors can stand that
most severo labor of a hot day ; ami editors
being paid to suffer, can afford to suffer.?
Drink plentifully of moderately cool water,
to keep the pores open, and think pleasant
thoughts; avoid quarreling with your wife,
nuu icnu uiu u?w?pnj)cr.?iV. jr. Day JJuok.
>
Little Pitchers with Greet Ears.
' Mother," said little Agnes, "what made
you marry father? You told Aunt Charlotte
you had all the money."
"Hush, child ! what are you talking about?
I did not say so."
Why, yes, mother, you said ho was poor ,
And had you thought of being burdened with
so many 'country cousins," as you call them,
you never would have had hini: Don't you
like Aunt Judy ? Tin sure I do."
"Why, Agnes, you are crazy, I believo I
When did you over hear your mother talk
so ? Tell me instantly."
"Yesterday, ma, when I sat in the back
parlor, and you and aunt were in the front
one, I'm sure you did say so, dear mother,
and I pity you very much; for you told aunt
there was a time before I was born when
father drank too much, and then, you know,
you spoko of the pledge,' and said how glad
VOU wer? that tlin t?mnai-an/w> 1
? vU.^/vii?uw; iuui ail rwivt'U
Lira."
"My Dear, I was talking of somebody else,
I think. We were speaking of uncle Jetkro
and family."
"But they have no Agnes, mother, and you
know you told about father's failure in business.
Uncle Jethro never failed. And you
said, too, when you moved in this house, your
money paid for everything, but the world
did not know it, and?"
"You have told quite enough, my child.
What do you stay listening in the back parlor
for, whon I sent you up stAirs to study ?
It has come to a pitiful pass, if your aunt and
I must have all of our privacy retailed in
this way. I suppose you have told? !"
"No, mother, 1 haven't, because I thought
it would hurt his feelings. I love my father,
And I never told him anything to make
him unhappy."
"Agnes sat looking in the fire, and asked :
"Mother, if people really love other, do they
ever talk against them ? Didn't you tell ino
never to speak of any home difficulty : and
:/ p 1--?-i - ?
ii EAiwnra nna i say wrong words you tell
mo nover to repeat them, and I never do."
"Agnes," sad the rebuked mother, listeners
are despicable characters. Don't you never
let me know of you doing the like again;
you don't hear right, and you moke agreat
deal of mischief in this way.
A man strike me with a swo.u and inflicts
a wound. Suppose, instead of binding up
tho wound, I am showing it to everybody ;
and after it lias been bound up, 1 am taking
off the bandage continually, and examining
the depth of the wound and making it to
fester till my limb becomes groatlv inflamed
and ray general health is materially affected,
is there a person in the world who could not
call me a Tool I Now such a fool is he who
by dwelling upon little injuries, insults or
provocations causes them to agitate and in*
flame his mind. How much better to put a
band ago over tho wound and never look at it
again f?Simron.
Ths path of duty is tho only path of happiness.
All the 'gooduess which the Lord
hath laid up for them that fear him* is strewn
along that path ; all the flowers, which he
has appointed to gladden our way, grow betide
it and wells of living water springs up
all along H *, whfle the way of selfish inclination
leads through the wilderness and solitary
way ; it is barren as the desert, owls hoot by
it, and the wild beast* has his Uir tbers.
[. MORNING, SEPTEM]
Inbirs' llrjmrtointt.
dJO o h) o n.
"What ft wonderful sight is written in these
days about woman ! Enough, in all conscience,
without our writing a very long essay
on the subject nt this time. One man
hit* her a sly dab, by saying he need not i
defend licr, as the can sjKak for herself, j
l nat, we suppose, means, in plain English,
"a woman can talk," and who doubts it f In
fact, who would have it otherwise ??Everybody,
especially every man worthy of the
name, delights to hear a woman talk. There
is a chann in her voice. Another old bachelor
of courso, has let off his vinegar by setting
the following afloat an the sea of newspapers
:
"A woman down east has gone three j
whole days without a speaking a word to
anybody. IIow she must have suffered !"
Who knows she suffered ? Was you there
to see. Tf you wore, she bad a very good
reason for holding her tongue. She had
learned that it was useless to "cast pearls hefore
swine." But you must have suffered
twice as much as sho did. It is wretchedness
indeed to be in the presence of a lady, and
not hear her talk. What punishment can
he greater to a man, than to have his wife
keep silence for "three whole days f" And
?et some men richly deserve this punishment.
his woman whom the crabbed old bachelor
has undertaken to slander, was a woman of
sense. Iler husband had slighted her pleasing
and useful conversation, by leaving her
company for that of others. She saw lie
could not appreciate her conversation, ami
shp resolved not to trouble him with it. "IIow
h? must have suffered." Ho would have
given more than his old shoos to have heard i
her voice Again, even in a Caudlo locturc.
That would have been better tban nothing.
O, bow slowly those "three whole days,"
mjjst have rolled to him. And all the time,
slie was as happy as a queen, in giving him
a lesson that he would not soon forget. lie
lilted to hear her talk, after that, wo will warrant
.. What a blessing it is to the men that wo
men can talk. We love to hear them. And
if a half a dozen are all talking and laughing
at once, how rich it is. Wo l>eg them I
not to stop, for if they do, the suffering is
not theirs, hut ours. Old bachelors and bad
husbands may sometimes wish her to keep
silence, because if she does, she will say somo
cutting tilings that they deserve. But to
others her talk is a source of inexpressible
pleasure.
Spirit of Prater.?It is distressing to
hear long, desultory and cold prayers. Thoy
evinci; that the sacrifice is from a dead heart.
and tliat the lips are not touched with a live
coal from the altar of God. When paryers
are short, specific and warm, we have evidence
that a revival has begun. It has begun
where it should be, in the hearts of
Christains. Each-worshipper coiues to the
meeting with an errand to the throne of grace; I
and he pleads it earnestly, being full of faith
and the Holy Ghost. If he pray aloud, he
supplicates for the thing he came for, and he
entreats for it with filial, fcrvont and importunate
desire, and then ho stops. O Christian
! do Vou feel for dying sinners? Do you
feel for the cause of Christ? They pray;
wrestle in prayer; besiege the throno of grace; I
take no denial ; say with Jacob, "I will not
let thee go, except thou bless me." AVhat an
cxamplo wo have in Moses, in Abraham, in
Ilaunah, in Elijah, in all the Old Testament
saints; and especially in Jesus !
Early Death.?A maid went into the
garden, oarly ono morning, to gather a
wreath of beautiful roses. They were yet in
the bud, some quite closed, othors half unfolded
; fragrant cuj? of tho morning dew. "1,
will not pluck you now," said tho maid.?
"Tho sun shall first expand you, then will
your beauty be more pleasing, and your fragrance
moro sweet." Sho camo at noon,
and found her choice rose eaten by the palo
wcrin, wilted by tbe heat of the sun, pale
and (lying! 1 he maid wcj>t over lior folly,
and on the following morning, she gathered
her wreath early.
God calls his dearest children from this
world ore the sun's ray hath pierced, or tlio
wonn's touch blighted them.?Herder.
Individual RusPONSiniuTY.?Tho moment
man parts with moral independence;
the moment he judge* of duty, not from the
inward voice, but from the interest* and will
of a party; tho moment he commits himself
to a lencler or a body, and winks at evil, because
divisions would hurt tho cause; the
moment he shakes off his particular responsibility,
because ho is but one of a thousand
or a million by whom the ovil is douo?that
moment ho parts with his moral power.?
lie is shorn of tho energy of single heartod
faith in the right and true. He hopes from
man's policy what nothing but loyalty to
God can accomplish. He substitutes coarse
woapons, forged by man's wisdom, for ccles-1
tial power.-? Vhanniny. 1
j Somebody asks, what is more eole'
harrowing than peg* in one's boolo?
mm m? ai
BElt 15, 1854.
JfirtU to J Eqthcr.
Father, you haven son, a darling son. Tic
lias faculties for gtxxl and for evil, and they
must act. Each capable of such intense action
that both cannot act on a level, one must
be, in some measure, subservient Your son
is now young ; he has no habits, no principles,
no character. These must bo formed,
and you liavo been appointed by Providence
(to superintend and assist in this formation,
'litis you must do, whether you will or not.
The nature of the relation existing between
j*ou and your son renders your non-participation
in the formation of his character impossible.
Towards what course of life would you direct
his innocent footstep ? What would
you have him become? a man in form only;
independent only of good, with feeble, wav
ering energy ; Ins selt-respect n mere low, |
disgusting pride f Von can easily train hiin
for this, as a thousand have, and aro being
trained, unless his mind is very far above the
commonality. Treat him as a machine, impress
it upon him that ho is a mero tool,
and he will soon bceoino such. Make him
feel keenly his inferiority, chock all his aspi
rings, and like a sapling bent to the ground,
I he will soon learn to grow down want. But
if you wish him to become a strong-minded,
truth-loving, whole soujed man, treat him as
a man that is to bo?as an equal. Drawout
his better nature; strengthen all aspirings
for that which is high and good. Teach him
to curb his strong passions, and to attain
that control which enables man to influence
his fijHow-man Let him feel that he has
the germ of the man within him, which needs
only a right cultivation to make it serviceable
to himself and mankind. TcacIi him at
all times to bring his actions and motives to
the standard of right and right only. Be
sure that ho feels confidence in you as a
sympathising friend in all cases. Nevor ele- '
vatc yourself or depress him so that he can
only approach you with an effort. lie has j
his world of joys and sorrows, hopes and
fears, which although small to you, arc all to
him. Encourage him to action ; place before
him somo desirable object which he may
procure by self-denial and extra exertion.
Mhu needs something for which to labor;
why not he ? Lot him find by experiment
that there is something for him to gain by
light, or lose by wrong, and an inducement
to virtuous actions will bo given him. Teach
him to think correctly for himself, judge for
himself, while young and under your care
and he will feel his own responsibility, and
will not be so easily enticed and deceived
when thrown ujion his own resources. But
above all, early teach him to look upon God
as his Father, nud Heaven as liis home, and
the great object of his lifo hero to do good.
Early teach him by precept and examplo to
love the Lord and keep his commandments,
and it shall be well with thee and thy house
to future generations.
| ??
Things we Decidedly Object to.
Wo decidedly object to the first-floor hxlger
coining home in a stato of inebriation,
and getting into our bed with his boots on.
Wo decidedly object to a waiter always
telling lis he's coining, and never doing it.
We decidedly object to a young lady with
her hair dono up in a newspaper advertisement.
We decidedly object to an infatuated dramatist
reading us the manuscript of his five act
tragedy.
We decidedly object to a baby dabbling
his damp little band about our face w hile the
mother stands by, and remarks that tbo little
dear is beginning: to "take notice."
Wo decidedly object to ft doctor telling us
in ft friendly way, that our family were always
noted for weak chests.
Wo docidcdly object to a person mistaking
us for his mortal enemy, and giving us a
tremedous blow ou tho baek under convic!
tion.
I We decidedly object to a num's always
| laughing at his own jokes, and nover laughing
at ours.
Wo decidedly objoct to any one purloining
our good things, and palming them of 21s
his own.
We decidedly object to a tailor's man
bringing home a cout, and bawling out in 1
tho piissago Chat his master told him not to
lc2ivo it without money.
And wedocidedly object to sharp children,
lawyer's letters, damp shirt collars, ainatuer
performances, tight boots and an umbrella
trickling down our back.
Singular Disclosure.?A surgeon in
the United States anny recently desired to
know tho most common cansc of enlistment.
By permission of the captain, in a company
containing fifty-five, tho writer pledged never
to disclose the name of officer or private,
except as a physical or metaphysical fact,
tho true history was obtained of every man.
On iuvcstigatidrf, it Appaered that nine-tenths
enlisted on account of some female difficulty,
thirteen of thom had changed their names,
and forty-throe were either drunk, or par.tially
M, at the time of their enlistment.?
lost of them w?ro men of fine U?lciits and
I learning, and had once boon in elevated po!
hitions in life. Four had bceu lawy el's, three
I doctors, and two ministers. ,
number Approached him with a tomahawk,
which after a few unheeded flourishes lie
hurried in tlio captive's skull, who sank in
death with the song still upon his lips, lie
had indeed succeeded well in teaching his
enemies "how a Chippewa could dio. A
few days afterwards they were laugh I. how
a Chippewa could be avenged.? St. Paul
(dfin.) Democrat.
A notick of a recent steamboat explosion
closes as follows: "The captain swamva-,
shbre. So did the chambermaid. She wa?
insured for 11(5,000, and loaded with iron.*
Straps.? An article worn under boots of
gentlemen made of calf-skin.
5SF
i | :
NO. 18.
mm???
Which is the Happy Man?
Wk kn^w a man in Michigan who lives
on the interest of his money, and that is only
%70 per annum. lie has, it is true, a small
house with one room in it, three or four
acres of land, and keeps a cow, a couple of
pigs, and a few hens, yet lie and his wife always
appear cheerful and contented, and
preserve n respectable oppearanee on their
70 per annum. *
"\\ o know of a man in New York who expends
$25,000 per annum for his household
expenses. He pays for gas light moro tlian
the whole income of the Michigan man.?
lie makes annual holidav r?resont? t-r.
J 1 ? ",V,D
than the whole amount of the property of
the Michigan man. It costs him n sura six
times as large as the whole incoino of our
philosopher to support a single waiter.
"\Ye know them both very well, and wo
think our Michigan friend by far the happi
est, healthiest, and most enviable man.?
They are both advanced iu years. The
cheapness of books and papers place abundance
of rational enjoyment in the power of
the countryman ; an accumulation of physical
ills, and a necessity for intenso activity,
deprives the citizen of calm and quiet enjoyment
and reflection. Tho former, in tho
probable course of events, will die of old ago
at ftinet}', the latter at seventy. Such is the
distribution of happiness and wealth.
[ToMo (0.) Blade.
1 i ?
Farmm.
Adam was a firmer while yet in Paradise,
and after his fall was commanded to earn
his bread by the sweat of his brow.
Job, the honest, and upright and patient,
was a farmer, and his endurance has passed
into proverlw.
Socrates was a farmer, and vet wedded to
his calling the glory of his immortal philosophy.
St. Luke was a fanner, and divides with
n it?? ai i " '
i rumuuiiuB uie nonor 01 subjecting tbc ox to
the use of man.
Cincinnati!* was a farmer, and the noblest
Roman of them all.
llurns was a farmer, and the Muse found
him at the plough and filled his soul with
poetry.
Washington was a farmer, and retired
from tho highest early station to enjoy tho
quiet of rural life, and present to the world a
spectacle of human greatness.
To theso names may be added a host of
others, who sought peace and repose in tho
cultivation'of their mother earth ; the enthusiastic
LaFaytte, tho steadfast Tickering, all
found an Eldorado of consolation from life's
cares and troubles in the green and verdant
lawns that surrounded their homesteads.
How an Indian can Die.
A touching instance of this characteristic
trait occurred at the late engagement l?etween
a small war party of the Chippewa*
and a greatly superior party of Sioux, near
Cedar Island Lake. The Chippewas, who
were en route for a scalping foray upon tho
Sioux villages on tho Minnesota, hero fell
into nil ambuscade, and the first notice of
danger that saluted their ears was a discharge
of fire arms from a thicket. Four of
their number fell dead in their tracks. Another,
named tho War Cloud, a leading
bravo, had a leg broken hv a bullet. His
comrades were loth to leave liini, and whilo
his assailants were reloading their guns, attempted
to carry him along with them to
where they could get the shelter of a thicket,
a short distance in the rear. Dut lie commanded
them to leavo him, tolling them
that he would show his enemies how a Chippewa
could die. At his request they sentod
him on a log, with his back leaning against
a tree. He then commenced painting
his face and singing his death song. As
his enemies approached him he only sang
the louder and livelier strain, and when
several had gathered around him, nourishing
their scalping knives, and screeching
forth their demoniacal yells of exultation,
not a look or a gesture manifested that ho
was even nwaro of their presence. At
length they seized him and tore the scalp
from his head. Still seated with his hack
against a largo tree, they commenced shootj
ing their arrows into the trunk around his
head, grazing hia <;?us, u?ck, Ac., until tlicy
literally pinned him fast, without having
once touched a vital part. Yet our hero remained
the same imperturbable stoic, continuing
to chant his defiant strain, and although
0110 of the number flourished his
reeking soalp liefore bis eyes, still not a singlo
expression of bis countenance could he
observed to change. At last one of iIia