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IP" _
~ v 1 ~: ??.* f. * ??. ??. n . n r??rfi h in .?,A
REFLEX OF P (TPMrA r**E V E N T S .
Drooled to progress, ll)c tiig()ls of % Soul!), nnlr t!je Diffusion of ITscful Itnorolcfrgc among oil Classes of Working Rtm.
VOLUME IV. GREENVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, JUNE 4, 1857. NUMBER 4.
lje $otttl)cnt (Snttrpriae
? ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING,
PRICE & McJUNKIN.
, Wl&J^IAM P. PRICE,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
. M. M'JUNKIN,
PRINTER.
TERMS.
One Dollar ami Fiktt Ce.vts in advance; Two
Dollars if delayed.
CLUBS of FIVE and upwards, Onk Dollar,
the money ia every iustance to accompany the
order.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at
the rates of 75 cents per square of 58 lines for
the first insertion, ami 37-fc cc^ts for each subsequent
insertion.
Contracts for yearly advertising made reason
able. "
?
AGENTS.
W. W. Walkkr, Jr., Columbia, S. C.
Pgrs.R Stiaduv, Esq., Flat Rock, N. C.
A- M. Panics, Fairviow I*. O., Greenville Di*t.
WitLitv (1 Ituucr Pleasant Grove. Greenville
Capt. Jl. Q. Akdmmom, Enoree, Spartanburg.
^clcctrb ^nctri).
I Have no Mother Now.
I hear the soft wind sighing
'Through evory bush and tree,
Where now dear mother's lying
Away from IfJve and and mo.
Tears from mine eyes arcstarting,
And sorrow shades mv brow ;
Oh, weary was our parting?
I have no mother now !
I see the pale moon shining
On mother's white headstone ;
The rose husfi round us twining,
' Is here, like me?alone ;
And just like me are weeping
These dew drops from the bough ;
Long tiino has she been sleeping?
I have no mother now.
My heart is over lonely,
My life is drear and sad ;
Twas her dear presence only
That made my spirit glad.
From morning until even
Care rests upon my brow ;
She's gone from me to Heaven?
I have no mother now.
1 iflcrtci) ffortj.
I^From the Concord Independent Democrat.]
ONLY A 3?ltINTKR.
A* IWCIUKMT BKLATCD DT GOV. NX) YD, AT TflK " WHITIC
HOUSK'"
44 Had I a tale to recount of tho olden
time, laying the scene thereof in England,
France, Spain, or any of the old countries,
to us associated with so much romance and
gorgeous grandeur, in which there would be
a plenteous sprinkling of lords and ladies,
jp tests and nuns, magnificent palaces, haunt
ed castles and gloomy monasteries, it would
be more acceptable to the great masses than
if the scene was laid here in this laud of
plodding Yankees, railroads, manufactories
And cotton speculations ; nevertheless I will
endeavor to spin you a yarn, which, by the
way, is not altogether a yarn, but facts and
unvarnished truths."
44 I had the pleasure of spending a few
days recently," continued Gov. F., " with a
distinguished friend of mine in Richmond,
And while there, I heard the following conversation
between the wife and daughter of
my host."
44 La 1 me, what impertinence !" exclaimed
Lizzie K., as she scanned a beautiful colored
note handed her by the servant.
44 What occasions your surprise," inquired
her mother,
44 Rather say indignation, mother, at being
asked, and even urged, to take tea this
evening at Mrs. Downer's, the tanner's wife."
u And why should you not, njy dear."
u Think you it would bo proper, mother,
for mo, the daughter of Judge K., on? of
the wealthiest and most distinguished men
of the city, to associate with such low bred
mechanics I"
M Indeed, my daughter, if they are mechanics,
they are people well to do in the
world, respectable, pious, agreeable, and in
every way worthy of your acquaintance."
" Really, mother," continued tho young
lady, as she tossed her pretty head, u I'm
disposed to think differently, and so far from
encouraging, I prefer being always removed
A* far as possible from the laboring classes.
Besides, how is it expected that I should
enjoy myself In conversation with such people,
who only talk about the markets, and
their own private concerns. Quite an inteHestual
telem lete would Jt be, mother,
dekr."
.** Oh 1 fie, Litze, fie 1 but I am to blame
for this. I've shown you too much ioduU
geaoe; you are a spoilt child, so I must,
even now, set ?bmit repairing rtjy garden,
and pluck out the weeds and tares ere it be
loo late."
44 Come, sit down beside me, Liacie, and I
wiH give you your leseon of worldly wisdom,
from my great store of worldly expoi
p
ricnco, by relating to yon a story, which, I
trust, will lower your pri'le, aud make you
a better woman. A woman with no pride,
iny daughter, is but n droning, easy crea
ture; but ono with too much, is haughty,
niggardly and selfish ; both the extremes are
contemptible and mean. Be, then, neither
too fashionably dressed nor too slovenly, too
devout nor too worldly. A mere butterfly
in the world of fashion and pleasure, making
but small pretensions to religion, is a
character bad enough, but worse to my
thinking is the fiery zealot, on the other
hand, who has too many rigid virtues; who
is continually reviling against the world,
displeased at anything like social and rational
enjoyment, nnd shocked at the least
merriment, playing or any amusement that
the heart in its fulness and gladness prompts
the young and sprightly to indulge. So,
then, avoid extremes of every description."
" But to the story. Sixteen years ago,
Salem, in Virginia, was one of the most
lively villages imaginable; situated in the
heart of the great valley of Virginia, yet
commanding a magnificent view of tlie bold
outlines of the Alleghnnies and the Blue
Ridge. The village contained no buildings
of note save two ; one of them a magnificent
tenement, the princely residence of one of
the old Virginia aristocrats ; the other the
only inn, a small, quaint, yet pleasant house,
nestled in the centre of the town. The
proprietor of the one, a wealthy planter and
distinguished officer of the State; of the
other, a poor widow, whose only living depended
on the profits of her table, which
was scent, as there was but little traveling
done at that day through this retired village.
And the advent of a stranger was always
a subject of curiosity and interest to
the good townfolks ; as it is always so in
the secluded villages and inns in the out-ofthe-way
places of America."
" To this little inn, a gaily dressed, yet
weary-worn traveler picked his way one
evening in the autumn of 18?. The buxom
hostess and her tidy daughter wero all
life, and frisked about bestirring the savory
viands, delicious cakes and eggs, much to
the satisfaction of our hungry traveler, who
appeared to be a young man of some twenty
summers, tall, commanding, of fine appearance
ami pleasing manners. lie soon,
by dint of frankness, and suavity of man
ners, insinuated himself into the good graces
of the hostess and her daughter?with the
latter of whom ho appeared to bo much
struck, for she was as lovely as she was Dent
I and graceful."
" Possessing charms not unlike one whom
I adore !" exclaimed the young traveler, admiringly,
as he placed himself before the
sparkling fire after finishing his repast, " and
expect, ere long, to lead to the altar, and
with whom you are doubtless acquainted,
as she lives only in the mansion above the
village, as I understand."
"What! Einma White?" inquired the
hostess. 44 Even so, my good dame, I met
her at the Springs, some months ago, became
enamored of her, wooed, won, and am
now come to claim my bride."
44 She is a beautiful creature, indeed !"interposed
Augusta, the hostess' daughter,
14 but somewhat proud, as is also her father."
| 41 Not so, indeed, gentle Augusta; if she
lias pride, it is nothing but nature ; maidenJ
ly priue, which every lass should have.
And you say Miss Emma is quite well?
well, I will let this pleasing intelligence restrain
me to-night, and to-morrow I will
give the fair enchantress, 1 Lrust, an agreeable
surprise."
44 Early next morning as etiquette would
permit, the young man set out with buoyant
heart and high hopes to the mansion.
Hut we will precede him, and look in on
his fair betrothed. In a magnificent parlor
of the mansion sat Emma White and her
mother, the one thrumming a piano, and
tho other interrogating a servant.
44 And you say, Sambo, bo lodged last
evening at tho inn ?"
.? \ ^ -i 1- ?
. . , uh^ik, uu look say lie uar now.'"
" Well, yon can retire?and so, ma, it is
even as I expected ; I thought it was him
as he rode past Inst evening."
" Well, Emma, how do jou intend to
bluff him off? I'm thinking it will bo a
shameful and delicate business ?"
" Shameful, indeed ! When Attorney
Clayton introduced him to me at the
Spring#, he brought him forward as one of
his law students, and not as a printer, as he
is?I'll itstver forgive Mr. Clayton I"
" lie is not to blame, my acar; he is his
pupif. Didn't the letter say ho was a journeyman
printer at A , but in consideration
of his promising abilities, he undertook,
gratuitously, to bring him to the barf"
"Well, for all that, I'll never marry a
printer. I did have a tender regard for him
once, and when I gave him iny hand 1
deemed him somebody, so I acted from iho
promptings of the heart, but now I'll be
I ruled by my better judgment."
" Well, please yourself in this matter, ray
dear, but I'm disposed to think honorably
of ; but, la! me, if he isn't at the
door now!"
u Scarcely had she done speaking when
our hero entered, and, *ith a heart overflowing
with gratitude and love, sprang for.
ward to meet the object of bie idolatry ; but
imagine his surprise and dismay when he
received only in return a cold distant courtesy,
which froze his blood, and rooted him
to the spot, bewildered and astonished at
such greeting from hi9 fair betrothed, he
turned for an explanation to tho mother,
who, perceiving tho embarrassment, stepped
forward and, ottering him a seat, explained
to him that since her daughter's return from
t H A Snrtnnro oltn \\ o,l ? a '
mra umi, imcr lutiuru reuecuon
and examining her heart, thought it best to
dissolvo the engagement mado between
them."
The ruby clieeka of the suitor became of
an ashy paleness, and his bloodless lips
quivered like an aspen leaf, as l:e falteringIv
exclaimed, " and wherein is my offence ?
have I merited this? Good Heavens! and
is this the gentle, the tender, tho confid'ng
Emma White?''
" Sir, this is not the stage of a theatre to
enact scenes," now spoke up tho daughter ;
44 let it suffice to know we are ever henceforth
to be strangers to each other. You
attempted to deceive me, and pass yoursolf
off for a gentleman, when it turns out yon
are of the working classes, only a printer, a
portionless journetman, a fortune-seeker!
If you had an honorable profession, sir, and
wero of good family, as I once fondly
thought, wo would be united; ' ut as it is, I
cannot and will not descend s . low!" and
as the young lady thus spoke, lie tossed
her head, and with ineffable scorn ,"nd con
tempt, proudly sailed out of the room.
44 Alas ! how crushed were his hopes now!
Deceived, slighted, wronged, confidence betrayed,
laughed at and treated with scorn
and contempt by one whom he adored and
loved, alas! too well! and all for being a
44 low-bred, base mechanic ?" And rushing
madly to the inn he sought his room and
threw himself despairingly upon his humble
cot, from which he did not rise for two long,
weary months, for the unwonted excitement
and disappointment of the morning had
brought on a burning fever. From morn
till night, and night till morn, the patient
raved, a wild maniac, calling and conjuring
his Emma to cotne back to him, and with
his impatience, querulousness, wearied all
about him, all save one. The physician
despaired of restoring him, and resigned
u: ?? * ' -
uiiw iu iiie enure care 01 tne gentle Augustn.
who watched at hi* bedside night and
day with untiring assiduity, bore with his
imbecility, administering to his wants with
kindness, and soothing his irritated spirits
by gentle words and kind affectionate treatment.
" Finally, after the lapse of several weeks
he began slowly to recover, and reason returned
once inore. When having entirely
recovered, he thanked the hostess and
daughter with tearful eyes and heart over*
j flowing with gratitude for their kindness in
| watching over him in his weakness and infirmities.
I!e called Augusta his preserver,
I his guardian angul, and told her he owed to
herliis life, and that he would ever hold her
in grateful remembrance, and though he
| was then about to depart and would not see
her again for years, yet, when fortune smil|
ed upon him again, she should hear from
him. Till then ho bid her a sorrowful, a
tearful farewell, and departed."
" Years passed, and still the unfortunate
stranger was not heard of, and nhnost forgotten
by the good gossips of Salem, and
even the one who caused his misfortunes,
Emma White herself; yot there was one in
that little village who still gave him a place,
not. only in her memory, but also in her
heart. It was the hostess' daughter.
******
" Fivo yenre from the events just related,
Richmond was crowded to overflowing, for'
the Legislature was in session, and had
brought its usual retinue of strangers, office
and pleasure seekers. It was by far the
greatest season the capital had seen for many
years; and balls, parties, soirees, and
picnics followed each other in rapid succes-!
A S.... 1 V -'- !_
mm uiiituitieu zeal.
******
"Gorgeous lights stream from a score of
windows of one of Pearl street's stateliest j
mansions, and sounds of music and revelry
are heard within. Luscious and sylph-like
forms skip over the richly carpeted floor,
and grave gentlemen sit comfortably in the
background, talking politics, gossipping and
admiring the light-hearted, the lovely and
happy beings around them. VVe will draw
near ono of these companies?that one near
the chandelier, consisting of two gentlemen
and a young l~dy, at,d lister, ?and as wo
are incog, it matters but little if we are
caught eavesdropping."
j "It is just as you say, Col. White, the
Legislature has done but little as yet, still I
think they have redeemed Ihemselves somewhat
by one judicious act,-in appointing our
young friend K ? to tho fifth judicial
| judgeship."
" A very proper appointment, sir, very?
but yonder he is now?see, the servant is
i just ushering him into the room." r
| "Lai me pa," exclaimed the young lady
admiringly, " how interesting he looks, and
so young too to be appointed a jndge."
" lie is a elever young man, Kinma, and
able too, or be would not have been honored
with the responsible office just conferred
upon him." ?
" How T should like to beooroe acquainted
with him, pa; pray introdaee him V'
14
" Mont assuredly 1 will do so, for here he
coioos now."
" A pleasint evening to you, gentlemen
?Col. White, pray how do you do ?"
M Quito well, quite well, I thank you.
Jndgo. Permit me to introduce yort to my
daughter. Judge K , Miss White."
" And with a low, deferential courtesy,
the lady greeted the gentleman, and seating
henself beside him with many an art, and
for a while she did attempt to amuse, please,
and insinuate herself into the good graces
of the promising young judge. But her efforts
were in vain, her arrows were aimed
against a heart of steel, and the countenance
of the judge the while wore a contemptuous
and sneering expression that baffled all her
arts and penetration."
44 Heavens, what a face, how lovely, how
angelic ! But inelhinks I should know that
countenance!" exclaimed tho judge, as he
caught the beautiful black eyes of n lovely
lady in a distant corner of the room, riveted
full upon him.
44 Who ? the young lady in the black velvet
mantilla ? ha I ha I that's my protege,
she is an orphan, her parent was a maitre
de hold in Salem, Virginia; ro being left
alone, I took her under my charge, and right
useful I find her: she answers both fur a
companion and maid. I would not have
brought her here, but she seems so sad and
melancholy, that pa would make me bring
her, thinking it might somewhat revive her
drooping spirits."
44 it is, it is, the pure, the gentle Augusta !
IIow fortunate! Pray, Miss White, excuse
me?but I know you will when I inform
you that I am 44 only a printci'"?tho poor
mechanic you scorned, jilted and derided
many years ago in tho little village of Salem,"
and rising unceremoniously, the young judge
hastily crossed the room, leaving the haughty
girl covered with confusiou and shame
to weep over her folly.
44 It was the lovely Augusta, and with
beating heart, eyes sparkling with joy, and
countenance suffused with blushes, the fair
being welcomed the happy aud excited
your.g man."
44 Much as Miss White suffered by the
gnawing of conscience, much as she upbraided
herself- mneh ?? vim --a
sorrowed over her past conduct, her sure
disappointment, her punishment, yet in a
few weeks after, when the admired Judge
K led the happy and envied Augusta
to the altar, she could but acknowledge
that her punishment was just, thut it was
merited."
" Judge K and his lady lived happily,
prosperously, and contentedly together
ever since; but Emma White, unhappy girl,
is still a spinster?an old maid."
44 So, now, Lizzie, my story is ended?all
but the denouement."
u Denouement f"
44 Ves, for you must know, your dear
father is the hero ; and I the heroine ; he
the 44 base-born mechanic," the 41 poor printer,"
and I, ths 44 hostess' daughter."
44 Pardon, pardon, mother !" and as the
young miss threw herself into the mother's
arms, she vowed never to be proud or selfish
again."
44 And you will go to Mrs. Downer's this
evening!"
44 Oh, that I will, mother, with pleasure."
The company began loudlv to applaud
Gov. F , as he concluded his reminiscence,
when he bid them cease, as he hud
tinished all but the 44 denouement."
44 What is it ? what is it f" rang round the
circle. 44 Why, nothing more nor less than
that the hero of my story has just entered
this room," replied the Governor, as he
Dointfcd to his diatinarninhAH ?n,1
i'riend amid the plaudits of the assembly.
Great Britain's Royal Children.?
For the gratification of a correspondent, we
publish the names and ages of the children
of Queen Victoria.
1. Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa, Princess
Royal, born November 21, 1840.
2. Albert Edward, Prince of Wale9, born
November 9, 184".
3. Alice Maud Mary, born April 23,
1843.
4. Alfred Earnest Albert, born August 0,
1844.
5. Helena Augusta Victoria, born May,
25, 1846.
6. Louisa Carolina Alberta, born March
18, 1848.
7. Arthur William Patrick Albert, born
May 1, 1850.
8. Leopold George Duncan Albert, bom
April 7, 1853.
9. A Princess, born April 14, 1857.
Her Majesty, Queen Alexandrine Victoria,
is nearly thirty-eight years of age, having
been born on the 24th day of May, 1819.
She was married February 10, 1840, to
Francis Albert Augusta Charles Emanuel,
Prince of Saxe Coburg and Golba, who was
botn August 90, 1810.
D6n't Kill the Birds.?In order to convince
a neighbor of the usefullness of birds,
a firmer near Binghamtort, N. Y., last year
shot a yellow bird in bis wheat-field, opened
it* crop, and fouad in it two honored
weevils, and but four grains of wheat, and
io these four grains the weevils had burrowed.
?*
JfiiBttUatmma H tailing.
[From the Charleston Mercurj.]
The Grave of Osceola.
Mr. Editor?It was on r bright morning
in June that the little ferry lioat Massasoil
drew up to the wharf of Sullivan's Island.
It was the first time we had ever visited
this spot, so celebrated in the history of
Carolina. Often when reading of the fierce
conflict of the 28th of June, 1776, had we
pictured the little fort of Palmetto logs?
the white waves beating against the foundation?the
Palmetto trees Scattered around
its walls; but it was in imagination only.
The reality was now before us?the Palmet
toes were waving gracefully in the soft sea
breeze; and there, with massive walls and
frowning guns bristling from each bastion,
stood not the fort of logs but?the modern
Fort Moultrie. To one who has never visited
this renowned fortification, die sight is
well calculated to awaken the beholder's attention.
Far out on tho ocean's bosom the
white sails of merchaul-men may be seen
fluttering in the breeze, as they bear the rivh
products of our land to foreign shores. On
the opposite side may be seen the tall steeples
rising from Charleston, and reflecting
thfl oinlirrlit 4~ ?
.... & ....... H.V.. KIIUWU IUJ'8. I
Mount Pleasant, with all its varied beauty,!
lies to the right, while Castle Pinckney and
Fort Sumter rise as from the bosom of the
waves.
Such was the scenery that greeted us on
the morning of our first visit to Fort Moultrie.
With what deep emotions we entered
the dark archway that led us within its
walls! Visions of old Moultrie and his pipe
?of Thompson with his wonted coolness?
of Jasper proudly catching the old Palmetto
Banner, and amid the shower of grape-shot
hissing around him, firmly binding it to the
broken stafi*?constantly floated before us
But now the scene was indeed changed.
Instead of a few small guns mounted on
wooden ramparts, huge grinning cannons
were seen firmly arranged in warlike arrayon
those massive walls. Soldiers and officers
in gay uniforms were seeu lounging
around the terrible engines of war, or drilling
their respective squads, forming a strik
ing contrast with the imagined appearance
of those stern veterans of "70, who knew no
company or drill, but knew so well how to
defend the rights of their country.
We had spent some tirne in viewing the
scenery from the ramparts of the fort, when
some of our party commenced reviewing the
outer works, myself among the latter number.
On our first arrival we had noticed on
the western side of the fort a simple marble
slab, bearing on its face some slight inscription,
but none then thought it worthy of notice,
in contemplation of the more majestic
scenery ; and now, as we drew near that
simple marble, what was our surprise to find
that il covered the last resting place of one
scarcely less brave than those who had bled
there eighty years before?it was the grave
of Osceola / llere, 'neath the walls of Fort
Moultrie, the brave defender of his country
found his last resting place. The simple
marble slab, bearing the name of" Osceola,"
is all that is left to tell where the warrior
sleeps. True, some warm hearts, displaying
a humanity quite rare, had planted over the
spot a weeping willow, which sheltered from
the night dew the warrior's grave. But
even this token of a susceptible and generous
soul was destined to fall withering and
PritaKoil lilro !?-% ? ? 1. - ? - * 1
, ?......v,*. ..luj mo mio u or wiium it was plant*
! ed. The ruthless storm had lain it low over
j Ooeola's grave, and thero it withered and
died, a fit emblem of that fate which befell
the stern warrior.
The circumstances of the capture, imprisonment
and death of the great chieftain are
so well known, that they need but a slight
notice here. Hunted like a wild beast by
bloodhounds, in his native swamps, he for a
long time defied capture. Hut at last, when
bravery could not vanquish him, treachery
was resorted to in order to accomplish the
desired end. lie was enticed into the camp
of his foetnen, and in violation of every law
of humanity, imprisoned and brought to
Charleston. But now, alas ! the stern and
haughty spirit of the warrior was crushed
forever. Tyranny had inflicted its last
wound upon his proud soul. For some
weeks he lingered in gloomy ar.d heart
broken sorrow, refusing all relief or consolation.
The reed, after receiving its deathstroke,
seldom lingers long, ere its leaves
i fall withered to the dust. Thus it was with
I the Indian warrior. After remaining a I
o ~~ I
' short time in disgraceful captivity, his proud
soul left its earthly tenement, and fled to
the happy hunting grounds of his fathers.
On that bright sandy shore his mortal remains
now sleep, forever free from the evil
intrigues of this cold and cruel world.?
l'eace be to the warrior's spirit.
TRYON.
A Colored Man Elected to Office.?
Tlios. Howland, a colored stevedore, has
been elected warden in third ward of Providence,
R. I. The result, it appears, was
brought about through a joke, but it turned
out to be a reality, and a few days ago
Howland demanded to be sworn into office.
His election, upon examination, was found
to be legal, and was thereupon sworn, and
entered upon the discharge of bia duties. I
Orators and Editors.?Compare tbe
orator with the newspaper, and we gain a
faint glimpse of the ubiquitous power of the
latter. The orator speaks but to a few
hundreds or thousands; the newspaper addresses
millions. The words of the orator
may die on the air; the language of the
newspaper is stamped on tables as imperishable
as marble. The arguments of the orator
may follow e*ch other so rapidly that a
majority of the audience may struggle in a
net of ratiocination, the reading of a newspaper
may be scanned at leisure, without
fear of perplexity. The passion of an orator
inflames the w hole assembly ; tbe feelings
of a newspaper electrifies a continent. The
orator is for an edifice; the newspaper for
the world?the one shines for an hour, the
other for all time. The orator may be compared
to lightning, which flashes over a
valley for a moment, but leaves it again in
darkness; the newspajwi to a sun blazing
over the whole earth, and "fixing on the
basis of its own eternitv." Printinrr
been happily defined " The art which preserves
all arts." Printing makes the orator
more than the orator ; it catches up his dying
words, and breathes into them the
breath of life. It is the speaking gallery
through which the orator thunders in the
year of ages, lie leans from the totnb over
the cradle of the rising generation.
Early Mauri a ok*.?A Grand Mother
at Twknty-skvkn Years ok Aok.?The
Manchester (England) Guardian states :
44 A woman who was last week brought
before the magistrates of Wigan for an assault
committed upon a neighbor, affords a
striking instance of recklessly early marriages.
She is the wifo of Casey, a tailor.
They reside in Douglas Terrace, Wigan. - m
He is forty years of age, and she is twentynine.
They were married before she had
attained the age of fourteen years, and sho
was a mother at the age of fourteen years
and seven months. Since that time she has
had eleven other children. Strange to say,
the eldest girl who was fifteen years old on
Wednesday week, is the mother of two children,
the elder of whom is nearly two yeara
of age, she having married earlier in life
than her mother. Mrs. Casey, is therefore,
at the age of twenty-nine years, the mother
of twelve, and the grand mother of two chilJre,K
,
Verv Curious.?We find the following
very singular statement of facts in thcPennslyvania
Times:
Olympia, April 26, 1857.
Mr. Editor?My father and mother-inlaw
were married on my grandmother's
birth-day ; my father anJ mother were married
on the hirth-day of my husband ; I was
married to my husband on the birth-dav of
my youngest aunt, Febiuary 7, 1849. 1
am now the mother of four children, thst
were born the 16th, 17th, 18th and 19lh of
February. Ma-oh, April and May, 1850,'62,
'54 and '56. This is something which L
regard as very singular?a thing probably
without a parallel in the United States; at
least, I challenge any mother to produce a
1!l * " - *"
ime record 01 tact*. Yours, truly,
NANCY J. ROGERS,
" Wem., Bridget, did you put the blister
on your chest as I told you, and did it
lise
" Och ! mistress, dear, never a cbi?t did I
have to put it on, hut shure, ma'am, I have
a hair trunk, and I stuck it on that, but sorry
a rise did it riz; but ma'am it tuck off
every bit of the hair, as shure as I'm a sinner
r
Running the Comkt into the Ground.
The Indianapolis Journal advances a new
and very striking theory of the "Aurora
Borealis," viz: 44 That a comet has at some
time hit the earth at the North Pole, and
run into Sytne's Hole, leaving its tail sticking
out, the tlapping of which makes auroral
light." *
The Leavenwoth free 6oil paper raises
a most astounding hurrah over the election
of its candidate for Mayor. 44 Bring
out the big gun !" ' Let the eagle scream I"
'Hallelujah!" u The Lord reigneth and
the Devil's a fool." These are some of the
headings with wicli it announces the free
soil triumph.
? ? ?
lis Don't Mind ii.?Hie New Orleans
Picayune, of Saturday evening says that
t!*e Hon. Miles Taylor, whom the telegraph
killed in Baltimore this morning, is walking
about New Orleans this evening, as well and
unconcerned as though this had never happened.
He don't seein to mind it a bit.
On 1 whistle, daughter, whistle, and you
shall have a cow ; 1 never whistled in my
life, and 1 can't whistle now. Oh 1 whistle,
daughter, whistle, and you shall have a
man ; 1 never whistled iu my life, but I'll
whistle if 1 can.
The Mutual Insurance Company of Alleghany
county, Md., insured ptoperty during
the past year to the value of l?'' fil4.
The only loss sustained by firefor the si,mo
period, it is staled, was three dollar* and
fifty cent*.