l P l ‘<- Y‘. ,3. r-’, #- _, ,..c.. A TRADITION or THE LAKE or‘ come. There shone no star on Como’s lake, No Summer’s breeze its surface curl’d ; But stormy winds across it swept, And wave on wave with fury hurled. And lotidly dashed the billorvs white ’_Gainst Touro"s mossy walls-ofstone 5 Yet lol upon its balcony - At midnight stood. a maid alone. And down upon the roaring waves She bent her dark Italian eye ; ‘With close knit lirow and anxious gaze, Intent some object to descry, There bloomed no rose upon her cheek, Though youth was hers, and beauty too; One glen gleamed o’er her forehead fair, ’Mid clustering curls half hid from view. And sadly, when the storm was o’er, And winds had howled their dying lay, And rnidniglit’s hour had long since struck, Despairing turned the maid away. “ He comes not! and he will not come! The storm hath driven his bark aside ; Beloved ! on earth we meet no more, For oh ! uiorn sees me Rodolpb’s bride!” She weeps; but lo! a soft sweet note! One note upon a flute is heard! Halfwild with eager joy she bends To gaze once more upon the lake. And through the deepened shades ofnight Dancing upon the foam, :1 bark, And one tall form she dimly sees, II/ith snowy plume and mantle dark. “ Be swift l”——’tis Carlo’s well known voice! ‘With trembling haste the maiden ties The knotted cords o’er baltistrade, And “Now Iconic!” she faintly cries. Red, brief, and sudden came a flash That moment from a caseineut low ; Down sunk the snow-white plume, and on Drifted the boat, unsteered, and slow. Full well she knew her sire’s true aim, His stern revenge, his watchful eye ; . One shrill, long shriek ran through the air; Ne’er in his ear that shriek shall die l Then comes a brief, an awful pause, And then a (let 2) and srillen plash, Twice ’gainst the castle’s messy walls With hoarser groan the billows dash. Is it a whiter wreath offoani, That on a wave’s dark breast I see? Is it a rnaiden‘s snowy robe ? ’Tis gone !——’tis gone, whate’er it be. a The following tale is from the pen of a lady in Indiana, being one ofthe prize pieces for which we so long advertised. It is extrac- ted, (the fair writer informs us,) from anim- frnished manuscript, which she intends, hereafter, giving to the public entire. IVe .thiuk our readers will agree with us in pro- nouncing it to be a “bud of hopeful prom- ise.”—.N'. Y. .Il1i'rror. TI-IE INFANT TECUMSEH. Onewequa, like Logan, was the “ friend of white men.” He admired ‘their arts, and wished to inspire his tribe with a desire ofat- taining them. Alas! he was yet to learn that the blackest vices still prowled amid all the refinements ofthe most polished states. Like the murdered kindred of unhappy Loggni, he also fell a sacrifice to the treachery ofcnlight- ened man. His blood was poured upon the red altar ofihat exterininating hatred which many ofour people still hear his scattered and Urslortunate race. Oueweqna was wanderingthrough the for- est in pursuit ofgatne, when he met a party ofmen who had recently assisted in the mas- sacre of an Indian settlement. They knew Onewequa, and requested him to accompany them as a guide through the forest. The soul ofthe Indian darkened as they spolte. “ Are not your hands, (said hc,) yet red with the blootl ofrny countrymen ?—even riorv the spirits of my slaughtered people call aloud on their brethren for revenge.” “ Insoleut savage,” cried the leader of the party, and instantly discharged a pistol at his bated bosni. Onewequa fell! The white man passed on: The (lying Indian was left in the silence of the forest. The day declined, and Elohaina clambered the rocky steep to watch the return of her husband. Daughter of nature! repress the throbbings of thy bosorn—the heart of One- weqira now but faintly beats with responsive feeling. Deep shall his sleep be in the silence of the desert, and often wilt thou call on his name, but he shall not awaken l Elohamrr th.ew her anxious gaze through the deep shades of the surrounding wilds, but in vain—she listened in breathless stillness for the light footsteps ofthe hunter ; brit no sound was heard save the hollow murinnrings of a gathering storm, and the wolf howling loud and discordant from its hills. Clasping her infant to her bosom, she sought the narrow path that wound through the wood, and de- termined not to return till accompanied by her husband. 'I‘lreuight gathered dark around the wandering savage, and thunder rollcd deep and heavy through the sky. In the pan- ses of the rs ind a dying groan struck her car —she followed the sourid—it led her to the body of Oirerveqtra !—-A flash of lightning streamed across the stormy bosoiir of nature, and shed a livid glare on his convulscd feat- urcs: Elolrama sunk at his side—succcssive tlaslies now discovered the blood which lay congealed on his bosom. Her shriek recal- led him for an instant to life; he opened his eyes, and fixing theiir on his wife, distinctly said, “ Behold the faith ofwhite men.” “ Oh! my Oiieweqtia, hast thou fallen thus, and is there none to avenge thee? the arm of the warrior is broken since thou art laid low ; but the young plant at my breast shall gather strength to crush the destroyers. When thou hast past yoir sky ofstornis, thou shalt see and converse with the GreatSpirit amid his clouds. Then let all thy petitions rest on the name of Tecumseh. From him shalt thou ask the soul of the warrior, and the strength of the mighty. Then shall he be as a whirlwind and a storm that scatter desolation and death ; as a fire spreading over the lull and the valley, consuming the race of dark souls.” Eloharna paused. The wind died away, and the raging storm was suddenly still. The full moon rent licr thick mantle ofdarkness, and her clear light streamed here and there through the trees of the forest. The heart of Onewequa was cold; but a smile of approba- tion yet rested on the features now fixed in rleaih. The voice ofEloliaina had been heard and the passing Spirit assented as it fled. The night passed away, and the moiirner transfer- red her gaze from the marbled body of her husband to the placid features ofher sleeping clrild——a lock of her own long hair, yet wet with the storm, lay across the face of the in- fant warrior. ,:;Softly she put it-back, while she conteinplated his countenance with a kind oflroly reverence. “The Great Spirit, (she said,) has smiled on the ghost of Onewequa, and granted his request for our son. He hushed the bowling tempest, and bade the moon and stars come forth in their glory, as tokens ofassent. Te- cumseh thou shalt avenge the death ofthy fa- ther, and appease the spirits ofhis slaughtered brethren. Already art thou elected the chief ofmany tribes, for the promise of the Great Spirit is everlastina. Thy feet shall be srvift as the forked lightning ; thy arm shall be as the thunderbolt, and thy soul fearless as the cataract that dashes from mountain precipice. Such were the coiisolatious of Elohama, and she looked anxiously forward to the time when Tecumseh should realize her prophecy. Three rolling years had marked his birth when she led hitn'to the grave ofhis father.—- It was the close ofthe day, and the most per- fect silence reigned roiiud the liillock ofdeath. “ Seest thou that little mound of earth ?’_’ said the savage. The boy fixed his steady gaze on the spot, and was silent. Elohama threw herself on the wild grass thatgrew rank round the grave, and drew her child towards her. “ My son, thou art more dear to rue than the strings of my heart——-thou art the sweetest (lower that greets my eye as I wander through the forest——tliy voice is the riiusic of my ear, and it is thy affection which cools my scorcli- ing brain when it turns in frenzy. My son, who like thy mother would haveclrerished thy helpless infancy ? who like her rejoices in thy growing beauties ?” The boy rolled his dark eye on Elohama ; it shone in all tlie< radiance of gratitude and filial affection. ' “ My son, (she resumed,) mark me and re- mark all I say. Thou liadst once a father who would have been more to thee than the mother that bare thee. He would have glor- ied in thee, Tecumseli,aiid thou wouldst have been the light of his soul——for thee he would have ciinihed the mountain steep and braved the angry storm, when the great spirit frown- ed iu darkness—-he would have taught thy iii- faiit feet to explore the hidden paths of the forest and guided thy young arm,wlrcn it first aimed the arrow at the bounding buff.iloe-—- he would have taught thee to build the light canoe, and ride the deep waters in safety.- But he is no more; in the sumincr of life has he fallen; and sleeps in the earth before us.” Elolrauia paused——Tccumseh for a moment lost in thought, then suddenly exclaimed, “f\‘I0l.l1ez’, why does he not awaken ?” “My soir, his is the sleep ofdeath.” “Death I” said the boy. “ To-day, (resumed I£lohama,) you saw a deer bounding through the forest; he was lovely iustrength and beauty, and flectcr than the winds, which parted before him. Sudden- ly a hunter crossed his path, and an arrow cleft his heart. I led you to the spot anti bade you look at the dying animal; a short time passed away, and the warm blood that flowed from his wound grew dark and chill : he was stiff and cold, and his beauty was departed.- Such is death, and such is the sleep of thy father.” Au awful pause ensued ; the features ofTe- cuznseh assumed a ghastly ferocity. my lather ?” “ My son, thou hast been told of a people thy race; their souls are dark in treachery, and their hands are red in blood. They came with the pipe of friendship to our forests, and smoked the culumet with our nation; but they rrrct thy father alone on his hills, and pierced his bosom with their arrows. He was a war- rior, and his arm was the arm of sii'engrh___ Great would have been his deeds; but he is now low in the dust.” Tecumseh heard, and the livid glare ofhis eyes cliariged suddenly to flashes oflightuing. “ Jilotlrer, (he exclaiined,)give me my hatcli- ct, and lead me to the villages, Iwill drink their blood ; I rvill consume their race.” Elohama smiled at the cnthusiasiu she had so anxiously endeavored to awaken. "' My son, (she rcplied,) thy arm is yet too feeble, and thy arrow is yet unsure, Thy hatchet must lie in its trust till the blossoms ofmany a spring shed their leaves around the grave of thy fatlrer.—But time still rolls on without ceasing; the winter passes quickly a- way, and the summer is again here. Thou shalt soon rejoice in the str'eiigth of manhood, and thy enemies afar off shall hear of thy uaiiie and tremble.” In our last we copied from a New-York pa- per an account ofthe tragical death oftwo young men in thatcity on the 11th instant. The following letters from one of them to a gentleman in New-York throw some light on the circumstances of these unhappy and tiiisguided youths. ' ALBA.\'Y, JULY 26th, 1824. filly Dear Sir——I full well anticipate the stir- prise you will evince at the disclosure ofthe present ; but the mystery will be explained by the sequel of my narrative. I must now enter into a labyrinth in order to explain a concatenation of circuuistances, the relation of which are, I assure you, too hurtful 'to rnv feelings. Oft I intended to have imparted to you the many and ulterior misadventures that have marked our lives; but " amour propre” always felt the stings of confessing poverty and compelled rue to rescind : I am neverthe- less possessed ufsnfficient philosophy to smile at misfortune, and hope for a return of lrappi- eI‘_days. Our establislunent at Porto Rico failed on the 13th of last November, through me l’erfid.,V Of Mr. —, and a house in St. Thomas, under whose auspices I commenced my commercial career. Jealousy predomin. ated over all other passious,and absorbed their «_gr_atitude ; and I was doonred to be the victim of their malice, Iwas at once pr'ecipit;1re(l from prosperity’s flowery mount to the barren vale of poverty, and forced to ltlal-‘.0 the best -ettlernent with my creditors that my then de- ranged affairs permitted. My er-edit [051 in that part ofthe world, I determined to seek out another spot where I might renew my in- dustry ; but, as from part ofiiry conversations with you, you may have learnt, misfortunes had laid hold ofuie by the forelock, and my ,rnost indefatigable exertions were unable to “Motlrer, whose arrow cleft the heart of beyotid these wilds who are the eueinies of avert them. All that I have tried to renew my commercial operations has proved abor- tive ; add to this the heavy loss I sustained on the 22d ofJanuary last, in the capture of riry vessel, (by the pirates ) the greater part of the fund I possessed, has contributed to reduce me nearly to a state ofpeuury. Ihave, however, funds which'I expected to have rec’d long since from Mr. , ofTrinidad de Cuba, in whose liauds they are deposited ; but his neglect in complying with my most sanguine wishes, has now placed my brother and myself under the necessity of availing ourselves ofthe little tal- ent in elocution and declamation we possess, to obtain a couipetency until these means ar- arrive ; to which end we have engaged to perform at the theatre in this city.——— But our pecuniary fund is inucb reduced ;— indeed, we have not more than 35, and as we shall not receive any thing from the theatre until next week, I do not know what we shall do for the little we require to pay our board, unless you will have the kindness to let me have the loan of$16 for eight or ten days, at which period I pledge you my honor as a gen- tleman and a M. M. it shall be punctually re- turned to you. " I fear that I have been trespassing too much on you with the ennui ofthis epistle. Ishall therefore take leave to digress and perarnbu- late over other ground, in inquiring after your health, wlucli I hope you have recovered and enjoy sirperatively. Ralph and myself are under its influence, which is all we possess. I feel persuaded that you will deign to an- swer one whom you called friend under more brilliant appearances. The man is still the same, though ‘ his purse is changed :’ D0, therefore, whether yoti think proper to oblige me or not, write to me immediately after the receipt ofthis ; and if it lays in your power, which I know it does, to oblige tne,——do it, and tenfold reward will, at a future period, he paid by, My dear sir,your friend and ob’t servant, J. HART. Albany, 4th flugust, 1824. My Dear Sir—I was yesterday favoured with your two esteerried favors of30th ult.-— I need not attempt to delineate my feelings ; the heartfeltjoy is more than the poet’s pen can describe——-therefore Islinll not attempt it, who have no such pretensions : Your words have cast a good deal of seretiit_v on my mind; and as we are young, happier times may come again, and per-liaps not far distant. To say more on the pecuniary favor you have grant- ed me, would be, Iltnow, offending you: I shall therefore suppress my gratitude, and pass it over in silence for the moment. Had I the smallest claiiri to your friendship, either by the merits of an unrequited obli,c;a- tion, or pretensions to the ties ofconsanguin— ity, it would _not amaze me; but an entire stranger as I was to you, except the superficial knowledge you had of us, make it a matter of rriiicli astonishment: it evinces clearly that uragnanimity ofdi:-‘position,which is your trite cliaracteristic. \Ve are bent upon intense study to-day, as I appear to-night, forthe first time, in the character of Douglass, and Ralph in that of Lord Randolph : Iwish heartily that you were here to witness our performan- ces ; it is a piece I am very fond of, and hope Iruay succeed. I observed with pleasure that you hinted your intention of coming here ; I wish you would execute it soon ;yon would be pleased with this place, where the climate is good, and living tnoderate. We board at one ofthe genteelest houses here, at $3 per week each. Ralph presents his respects to you. Excuse my short epistle to-day : I have already said what prevents me froui being prolix, for to you I can never write laconical- ly ; my greatest wish is to detail a concatena- tion ofcircuinstances which will cause vour hair to stand on end, effects of, as Burns says, “Alas how oft doth goodness wound itself, And sweet affection prove the spring of wo E” Those two lines are too applicable to me. In my nextl shall give you the key, or what would give me more satisfaction, recite all my affairs to you in propria persona, in a few days. Ihope your health is recovered, and you may continue under its influence. For a short time adieu. Believe me sincerely your friend antl servant. J, [IAR-1-_ THE ASHANTEldS.——The following ac- count ofthis singular nation, will be read with interest. The Ashantee territory is situated in Africa, adjoiuirig the Gold Coast,and its capital, Coo- tnassie, is not more than 150 miles from the settlement ofthe English, at Cape CoastCas tle, and yet till the year 1817, when a mission was sent to the Ashantees, in order to put an end to the horrible cruelties which that nario.-. had committed, and were perpetrating on the Fantees, (a small nation on the borders ofthe Gold Coast,) the former people were almost as unknown as ifthcy had been inhabitants of another planet. Mr. Bowditch, whose loss cannot be sufficiently deplored by those who hoped and expected that the civilization ofAl‘. rica would be greatly accelerated by his per- severing inquiries, accompanied this mission, and from this narrative our information is chiefly derived. The Ashantees present a singular, and we tlriuk a rare unioti of civilizatibu, with the iuost barbarous and detestable superstition.- We read with surprise and adiniration, ofa city said to contain upon their grand festivals, 100,000 inhabitants, (this isthought by Mr. B. to be an exaggeration) under regular controul by oliicers appointed to each district,supplied with an excellent and daily market, and kept in a great degree ofcleanliness. The inhab- itants too are said to excel in the manufacture ofdilfereut kinds of cloths,ofsurprising beau- ty and fineness; they are good goldsmiths, have capital potteries, and paint expeditiously and not inelcgantly ; they work finely in iron, tan leather, and are excellent carpenters.— We are sorry to add, the horrid reverse to this picture. The Ashantees appear plunged in the most gross and abject idolatry: and when we have read the details oftlieir sacrifices of human victims, and the tortures preparatory to them, it is impossible to wonder at any fe- rocity which they may exercise towards their enemies. At all their festivals, or customs as they are called, some one of which occurs every twenty-one days, not fewer than 100 victims are iinrnolated with the most barbar- ous rites. Besides these, there are sacrifices at the death ofever_v person of rank, more or less bloody according to their dignity. On the death of his mother, the King butchered no less than three thousand victims ! and on his orvn death this iiuurber would probably be doubled. The funeral rites ofthe great cap- tain were repeated weekly for three months ; ‘and 5300 persons were slaugirtered each time, ‘ or 2,400 in all. Some of these are freemeu, as it is usual to ‘ wet the grave’ with the blood of soirie person qf respeclabilifg/. On some occasions, the sacrifices consist of females.— Slaves are continually sacrificed by their priests over large brass pans, that their blood, mingling with various other niatter,rnay coin- plete the charm,and produce iiiviiicilrlefctish, When their crops are dug, the chiefs kill sev- eral slaves, that their blood may flow into the hole from whence the new yam has been ta- ken. Those who cannot afford to kill slaves, take a head of one already sacrificetl, and place it over the hole. In 1819, the population of this kingdom was computed at about one million. The disposable force, 150,000. They are very su- perior in discipline and courage, to the water- side Africans. The general is always io the way, and fugitives are instantly put to death. They eat little select bits of the first enemy’s heart whom they kill, and all wear ornaments of his teeth and bones. The stated inhabitants ofCoornassie, which is situated in 6 deg. 30 rrrin. N. and 9.! deg. 6 min. W. longitude, are supposed to be about 15,000; four ofthe principal streets are half a mile long, and from 50 to 100 yards wide. The markets are daily, and the articles for sale are beef, mutton, wild-hog, dccr, monk- ey’s flesh, fowls, yams, plantains, corn, sugar- cane, rice, peppers, vegetable butter, oranges, paiipus, bairarias, salt, and dried fish, large snails smoke dried, palm wine, ruin, pipes, beads, looking-glasses, sandals, silk, cotton cloth, powder, and calabashes. The cattle in Aslrantee are as large as in England ; their sheep are hairy. They have 9. crops of corn in the year; plant their yams at Christmas, and dig them up in September. All the fruit mentioned as sold in the market, grow in spontaneous abundance, as does the sugar cane. The castor oil plant rises to a large tree. The cotton trees sometimes to the height of 150 feet. . The government of Ashantee consists o the King, four Aristocratical Assessors, and the Assembly ofCaptains. The noble quar- tumvirate have in all matters of foreign poli- cy, a veto on the king’s decisions. The course of succession is the brother, the sister’s sort, the son, and their chief slave. Polygamy is tolerated by this people to the greatest extent. The King’s allowance is 3,583 rvivcs, and the full complement is always kept tip. One great source of revenue to the King is the traffic in negro slaves. While the miss- ion was at Cooinassie, only about 4_ months, one thousand slaves left that capital to embark in 9. Spanish schrs. tlreu hovering on the coast. So long as the sale of their prisoners, as‘ slaves, as tolerated in this people, by this country, the Slave Trade can never be effec- tually suppressed ; a circumstance which calls for the attention of the advocate for the abol- ition of slavery. C‘lerical Dcm'ls.—A letter from Barcelona, dated the 19th ult._gives the following account ofthe fatal result ofan attempt of the Vicar, Citrate, and Sacristan, to pltzy the d l with a Constituti orialist :—“ A singular occurrence lras_ taken place in a village called Artes, near llostalriclr, about twelve leaguesfroin Barce- lona. A constitutionalist being at the point ofdeath, his brother called on the Curate,and requested him to come and administer the sa- craments. The Citrate refused, sayiug—— ‘ Your brother is a Constitutionalist, that is to say, a villain, an iinpious wrctch ; an ericiuy to God and rnan—lie is d d without iner- cy, and it is therefore useless for me to confess him 1’ ‘ But who told yoti that my brother was d d?’ ‘Who told me ?’ replied the Curate, ‘ why God himself!’ ‘ What !’ cried the astonished Spaniard, ‘ God has spoken to you !’ " Yes,’ answered the curate, with assur- ance, ‘ God spoke to tire during the sacrifice ofthe mass, and told me that your brother was d d to all the devils.’ It was in vain that the brother reiterated his entreaties, the Citrate was inexorable. A few days after,tlie Constitutionali-st died, and the brother return- ed to the Curate to beg ofhim to perform the funeral ceremony on the body. The Curate refused, saying, ‘The soul ofyoiir brother is now burniirg in hell, asI told you before. It would he in vain for me to take any trouble a- bout interring his body, for during the night the devils will come aml carry it away, and in forty days you, yourself, will meet with the sauic fate.’ The Spaniard, not giving impli- cit credit to this diabolical visit, watched du- ring the night by the body ofhis brother, with his pistols loaded. Between 12 and 1 o’clock a knock was heard at the door, and a voice exclaimed—-‘I coiniuand you to open in the uainc of the living God ; opcn,‘ifnot, your iii- staut ruin is at hand.’ The Spaniard refused to open, and shortly after, he saw enter by a window three able bodied devils, covered with skins of wild beasts, lraving__t|ie usual quantity of horns, cla\vs,:ind spiked tails, who set about carrying the coffin coutairiing the body. Up- on this the Spaniard fired, and shot one devil dead, the others took to flight; he fired alter them, and wounded both, one of whom died in a few minutes, the other escaped. In the morning when the people went to church, there was no curate to officiate, and it was shortly after discovered, on examining the 2 defunct devils, that one was the Curate and the other the Vicar, the wounded devil was the Sacristan, who confessed the whole dia- bolical proceeding. This singular case is now before the Criminal Tribunal of Barcelona.” COMMODORE S'1‘EWAR'1‘.—-The following letter relates to the story we re-published a few weeks since from the Alexandria Herald, stating some circumstances prejudical to this gentleman’s character. ' Washington, Aug. 6.——‘ I atn glad to find that you are desirous of seeing the reputation of our estimable friends, Commodore and :\Irs.Stewart, defended against those infamous calriinuies, which mir speculative fellow citi-, zens in foreign countries so readily set on float against all the officers ofour governnient,wlro will not lend their aid to forward those avari- cious schemes for which we are so notorious abroad. VVhat yoti have stated is an old sto- ry we had sonie months ago, or at least that the government had, but now they are new varnished, and sent forth by envy, hatred and malice. The very worst construction that can be put upon it is this: ‘ A Royalist Officer, pursued by his enemy, was, it is said, secreted on board the Franklin. to save his life, without the knowledge of Com. Stewart, who was enraged when he dis- covered him, and arrested his first Lieutenant, who also, it is said, knew nothing of it.- It was then said Mrs. Stewart had secreted lriui in some part of the ship, and sent him things to subsist on from the cabin. Ifslre did this it was from humane motives and no other—— there could exist no other in her bosom.—— Some say she took the blame ofit to screen a. young officer from punislrment, which I can readily believe, knowing the purity and gen- erosity oflier heart. Others, more wicked, say she did it to get her liusband out of the scrape, who hid the officer himself. It is a trifling iiicident,of no moment-'-—a humane act to‘ save the life of an individual ;—wlrat out‘ Consul did so often, and so rmicli to his dis-' advantage in 1815, in’ Bordeaux, when the royalists were in pursuit of distinguished im- perialists—he could not stand by and see suclr' eminent men butchered when he had the pow- er [0 SaVe them, and the very men who then‘ censured him now approve of his conduct.-' But the enemies of Commodore Stewart and his superior wife, have made a story out of this noble act, which I am astonished any re-' spectable person should listen to. The Frank-' lin is daily expected, when the whole affair‘- will die away : all I am afraid of is that Stew- art will get hold of some one who has been’ busy in circiilatiiig these wicked reports, and some quarrels will ensue.’ General Jrzc/rso7z.——On a Sunday during the late war, having given directions that there should be no working or unnecessary noise in the camp, one ofhis officers came to him and complained that some rnethodist sol- diers had asseuibled in violation ofhis orders, and had opened aprayerineeting. “Go,then, andjoirr them,” said the General, “ and re- quest that they will not forget iire in their prayers. God forbid that praying should be an unooininoii noise in my camp.” PUBLIC ACTS. An Act iir addition to an Act, entitled “ An Act for the regulation of Civil Actions” BE it enacted, fire. That when any Bank: incorporated by authority of this state, has no Cashier, or the Cashier is absent tlrerefrom, or airy Iusurarrce Company incorporated by the laws of this state, has no Secretary or Clerk therein, then the rights or shares which airy person may own in the stock of airy such corporation may be attached,by leaving a trite and attested copy of the writ of attachment by the officer serving the same, with his prop- er eudorsernent thereon,or be taken by execu- tion by leaving the copies of such execution and certificates before and after sale, in said Act prescribed, at the. banking house, toll house, rnanul'acturing house, or other princi- pal house or place in this state, where such corporation transact their business, or exer- cise their corporate powers, instead ofleaving the same witlrtlre Chshier of such batik, or with the Secretary or Clerk ofsuch coiiipanv, as in said act is, required. ' May 218, 132/1—Approved, OLIVER Wor.coT'r. An Act in addition to an Act providing for the Collection ofTaxes. BE it enacted, Src. That rvlrenever anv cor- poration shall iiirpose a tax on the shares of their stock, said corporation may appoint tl collector thereof, who shall receive from the treasurer of such corporation a tax bill and rvarraiit to be signed by any Justice of the Peace within the county where the tax is ini- posed, directing such collector to collect the sums specified in such tax bill, and on neglect ofany stockholder to pay the same within the time. limited by such corporation, the collec- tor may levy said warrant on such shares or such part thereofas inay be necessary to satis- fy said tax and costs, and shall proceed there- on in the rnauner provided by the eighteenth section of an Act for the regulation of civil actions; and his fees shall be the satire as is allowed to constables on executions. June 1, 189./.l—Approved, 0Lrvr:r. WoLco'r'r'. An Act providing for taking testimony to be used out of this state. § 1. B73 it enacted, «S-6. That in all cases wherein a r-ourmissioner or commissioni-rs shall be appointed according to thelaws, usa- ges or customs ofany ofthe States or_ Terri- torics ofthe United States, to take testimony or depositions in writing in this state, to be it- sed and improved in any of the courts of said states or territories, such commissioner or coinrnissioners, so appointed, may apply to any justice ofthe peace for a writ ofsubpnena or capias, as the case may require, to cause or compel the appearance of any witness before such commissioner or commissioners, to give testimony before them. §9Z. Ifany person who shall have been du- ly suininoued as a witness to testify before such commissioner or commissioners as afore- said, according to law, shall refuse to appear and give his testimony, such Justice of the Peace may conimitsucli person to prison ’till he will comply. OLIVER. WoLco'rT. May 19, l8~24—Approved. .An Act in alteration ofan Act, entitled, “ An Act concerning Fences and Common 1* ields.” L} 1‘. Be it enacted. 8,-c. That the person or persons to whom notice shall be given by the‘ fence viewers, pursuant to the fifth section of the Act of which this is an alteration, shall have fifteen days instead of six days witliiu which to prit his, her or their fence in repair ; and if upoir his, her or their neglect to putthe satire in repair within saitl time of lfidays, the party aggrieved shall put the same in re- pair : when the same shall be completed and judged srrtiicicnt by the fence-viewers, and they shall have given .-i certificate and account, ()ll|‘Sll’.lllI to the provisionsof said act, the par- ty :r_;gr‘ieretl shall have right to recover in the lll:ll)llt‘l‘ spccilicil in said Act, ofthe person or pcrsmis who ought to have tirade said repairs, dotible the value thereof, together with the fees ofthe fcirce viewers. I; 2. Br it furl/tor enacted, That so much of the 5th section ofthe act of which this its an alteration, as is inconsistent herewith, ht‘. and the same is hereby repealed. , OLl\’ER WoLco'r'r. June 3, 182-t—Approved. An Act to repeal an act entitled “ An Act to protect the citizens ofCorrnecticut in their right to navigate boats or vessels moved by fire or steam.” Be it enacted, S,-c. That the said Act be and the same is hereby repealed. ’ _ Omvrzr-. WoLco'i':i'.~ May 19th, 1824--—Approved.
Norwalk Chronicler