-' ‘Vin. R. Taylor.
.150
N®W&LE:
. r-.. V‘-7-.
A-mu
‘TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM,]
VOL; XXI.
“ DOI/l’T GIVE
up THE S'llll".”’
I
,.
NORWALK. Conn. WHQDNESDAY,HNQVEHIBEER 28, 1333..
[PAYABLE I IN Aovkscr. '
no. 90.
——
THE NORWALK GAZETTE,
lS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDVIESDAY MORVlMG,
overt no r'r’s STORE. ON THE DOCK‘
W'esl side the Bridge,
TE,.Ms_._'[‘wo dollars per annum, payable in
advance—-$2 25 at the end of the year.
To subscribers who live out of the. Carrier’s
district and call at the Office for their papers.
31 50 per year, zfpaid in advance—otherwise
$2 will be charged. Mail subscribers $2 per
annum, payable in adyance. _ Noothers attend-
ed to, and no subscription received for less than
six months. To companies of six or more. re-
eeiving their papers by mail, SI 50, payable all
together, in advaace. _ _ _
Executor‘s and Administrator’s Notices. 3 in-
scrtions, $1--Commisstoner’s notices, $1 25.
Yearly advertisets. one square. 5510 Pet‘ imnllm.
' " ' dvunce.
payable quargerlywttl 0 . , ,
risememsarthe rite of $1 per square for 3 inset-_
tions, and 25 cents for each subsequent insertion.
0:‘? All casual advertisements sent to this Of-
fice, should be accotiipanied by the cash, No
others attended to, I‘ ,3 ,
JOB '?’Pi{;IN'1‘lNG,
OF ALL KINDS. .
C-E
NEATLY"EXECUTED AT THIS OFFI
THE SLOOP CITIZEN
Capt. GRUIIIMAN, Master,
Will soil from Hoyt’s landing to James Slip,
‘N. York on Tuesdays, and returti on Saturdays,
THE SL001? IVIECIIANIC.
C'apt. R 0 CK I VE LL, Master,
Will sail on Saturdays and return on Tliurs-
' days. Freight will be taken as low as at other
landings. For further infortnrttion inquire of ei-
thcr of the captains on board of their respec-
tive vcsscls, or at the store of the subscriber.
WILLIAM T. HOYT.
Horwalk, May 2'3. I838. _t_ft’53
CHAR LES DI E R R IT,
SURGEON DI-‘iN'1‘it’-5'1‘.
E AVING perinargently located himself in
the city of Bridgeport, begs leave respect-
fully to inform"the inhabitants of Faiifield and
the adjoining counties, that he is fully prepared
to perforui any operation upon the Teeth. at his
’;.)tiitis,iii the ntosi approved and scientific manner.
-'._tud gentlemen who wish to have teeth
inserted. are informed that he has, and will keep
coiistautly on hand. a superior assortment of In-
corruptible Teeth. which. for beauty and color,
.,'Jre quite equal to the iiutmal ones, and in ' po_int
__of tlnrability. are innch superior.
C. M. has been located in this city about 18
_i'-:".tN]lll3. and his success has been such as to war-
rant him in nssoringihe publitx, with the most
ticrfect confirlcucc, that :
;u 'he'_lfris; pTeITrii'ii'i’ié1’it"r _ fléijfce.
All calls in his [_irt,i,l'cs_,~,i_on will be gratefully re-
ceived, and attended to puuctually, any hour of
the day, gt his ofiice in I’lfenix Building. \Vall
3tre_e_t_, ' September 5, 1833.
fig?’ The following certificate from citizens of
Bridgeport. is respectfully sutnitted to the public:
We are happy to unite in asstiring the public
that otir fellow citizen, Mr. Charles Merritt, Sur-
eon Dentist. is both professionally and person-
ally worthy their fullest confidence, and that he
possesses our own. \Ve have either e2_tp_er_i_enced
ourselves, or witnessed in others, the skill, ease
and elegance with which he operates. and are
confident that his work is not surpassed by any
Dentist in New York; whilst his ctiipparatively
‘tnotlerate charges afford to all the exercise of his
iroft-ssioual ability.
,i’hilip A. Cannon, David H. Nash.M.
Hyde &Curtis. \Vm. B. Nash. M. D.
Wm. H. Noble,
Stiles Nichols 6.’. Co. Henry Shelton,
Hubbell 55 Thompson, Birdsey 66 Beach,
Dcforest Beardsley. James Porter.
Brirlg apart. July 28, 1838. 6m79
.HJEAll'.li’lfl All
Imperial Strengthening
HlTNEY’S
Plaster, has abundantly proved its stipe-
;-iority over all others in the removal and cure of
, those distressing pains and weakness in the side.
breast, back. &c. Also in rheumatic affections
and indigestion. Hundreds of certificates of
their utility might be given, but the following
from one of the most respectable iuhabitants of
_F:,tirficltl ._Cuunty is deemed sufiicient: I
Norjiclal. Conn-. August 21, 1838.
Mr. \Vl_titney: Dear Sirgliy using one of
your Imperial Strengthening Plasters, I have
been ,relie,ved in the short space of two weeks, of
a painful and dist,ress,i,ng weakness in my back,
with which I bayc been troubled for the last fif-
teen years. _I take this occasion to express to you
my acknowledgments" for the benefit thus receiv-
ed, with the hope that all others who are similar-
ly affected, may be enabled to avail themselves
,q,f your valuable remedy.
7._Very respectfully yours,
JUSTUS PLATT.
. For Sale by Mr. J. A. WEED, Norwalke
and Mr. J. W. TAYLOR, Westporl. Price
25 cents. 3m5*77
WRAPPING PAPER.
For Sale, at this Office, 4 Reams paper, of a
larger size than-used for printing the Gazette, at
20 cents per quire, pr per ream. 1
Norwalk, May 14, 1838. "
MIR. @li\‘llI3)”S SPEE©lHl,,
FOR SALE AT THIS OFFICE.
" ' ILL’S LIME for sale by
' CHARLES THOMAs_
Norwalk, June 12, 1838. “'65
T LANK WAB_RANTS~for the collectiodcl
Military Fines", for sale by i
J? A. weep.
STOVE PIPES, 510‘.
feet 6 inch ‘Stove Pipe pialrt worn, and
008 Doctor Not! Stove for sale, a great
bargain. The pipe in lot_s to suit purchasers.
VVM. _._I, STREET.
Norwalk, Oct. 12, 1838. ((34
I HREE HUND.RED’lb€.. White Bar Soap
‘A|l,,ot her arlver» , M
his‘. t"*.-‘.*,‘g*?"".“t".i.'.1 ..<=.t.>rr.:'i'.r:?tx.<.2 ,4-'.e«-I
_.._..;..__
From the Ifniclccrboclcerjlar October.
TEARS.
BY THE HON.CHlEF JUSTICE MELLEN.
Cr stals. where are your recesses,
here the home of your repose,
When the world around caresses,
And the lienrt no sorrow knows?
Then, the eye is brightand gleaming
As a summer’s smiling day :
Joy and peace may there be beaming,
Still uninfluenced by your sway. '
Why should sudden bursts of feeling,
VVhy should transport, flood the eyes?
Why, when from your fountain stealing,
Do ye flow mid raptnre’s sighs?
Where's the foam. whence pain and anguish
-Call ye forth for their relief, ‘
Causing agony to languish
Into deep and dark’ning grief?
4
Cgfyt-ztal tea'rs,"so frcély pouring“. =‘
’ Prompt their duty to perform,
Tell when gentle gales are blowing
Round the heart, and when the storm,
Messengers of gladness rushing,
Bearing orders from the heart;
Showering checks, in beauty blushing,
Laughing at the painter’s art.
, 9.’. - -T?;": ,
_ 9"‘-‘sine
Messengers of deepest sorrow,
From the seat of cruel pain;
Hoping still relief to‘-morrow.
While hope’s promises are vain!
Messengers of tender passion.
Melting sympathy and love,
Hearts o’erflowing with compassion,
Vlfartned with influence from above.
Messengers from hearts despairing,
And frotn Conscience in alarm;
Its frightful catalogue preparing,
And no aid from mortal arm;
Messengers from hearts repeating,
‘Washing out the stains of sin! at
Mercy smiling—Heaven assenting-—
Peace around and peace within! _ I;
—- 2* .
From the Gentleman's JVIag'azinc Nqvciizlger,
Unrunptsntzu rnssxcss IN THE Lisa on
VIDOCQ, FREVICH Mll/llSTEPt OF POLICE;
THE si«:nUcI~:n,
Pierre Marcel, was the cultivator ofa small
but profitable vineyard, on the banks of-the Ga-
ronne, a few leagues from Toulouse, where the
principal part ofliis life had been passed in the
almost daily occupation oftending his vines, and
rendering his little plot of ground the f=iirc_st for
many a mile around. Inearly life his wife,
whom he had passionately adored, had ."all.;_u the
victim ofa lingering illness, leaving loin an Bu-
ly t:h_ild. u daughter, whom be cherished both
IO? N5 Own and tnothe_r’s sake, witli'Ti’nusu'E1i ten-
derness. The little Louise was the solgce ofhis
days, and the prz;tt_!e of her infant tongue soiind-
informed of all that had taken place, when the
few hours of uneasiness would be more than
compensated by the pleasure he would receive
on hearing of her happy marriage.’
Paris, with all its cliarrns, had less attraction
for Louise than her simple home on the Ga-
ronne's banks. She lived in the most sttidied sc-
CIUSIOD 3 passing her melancholy hours in think-
ing of her father. and what must be his feelings
C0'1C3t‘Dlng ll?!‘ long _contiuued absence. She
felt she had made but a poor return for all the
care and solicitude bestowed upon her. ,Henri,
ll Was true. had been unremitting in his attfifl’
tions, and his love appeared still as fervent as
ever; but he always evaded the conversation
when she pressed him concerning their marriage,
and she found herself in rt fair way to be a
mother, ere she was a wife.
situation,-
“Yes, yes, dearest, next week.
has Madame Girau sent home the beautiful
shawl I ordered for you ?’
‘Some time ago; but Ihave not looked at it;
I have been thinking ofsomething else.’ '
‘ Of what, dearest?’
our delay is‘”cruel in the extreme.’
promise.’
.‘Just look out ofthe window, dearest, and tell
me what yonthiukofthe horse I purchas.edyes-
terday ?’ _
‘ Oh, Henri ! if you lote me, I beseech you
name the day; I have been unhappy, very un-
happy.’
‘ Now you are beginning to teaze me again.’
‘ Nay, do not say I teaze you ; 1 ask you but
to keep your faith with me.’ -
‘Really you are more pertinacious than ever;
but I cannot stop now, I have an appointment
with ’ 4 ‘
‘ Henri, answer me! am I to be your wife or
not ?’ A
‘ My wife! why are you not my wife as
firmly as you can be such "I , VJhat are the cold
formalities ofthe world that would give you the
right to be called my wife? \/Vould they bring
aflcctiou? No: they would rather bring abhor-
rence and disgust. As Louise Marcel, you will
ever he to me the dearest object ofmy h_ea_rt; but
as my wife I could not love you, and will not
do that which would make me hateyou for ever.’
Louise was almost motionless with surprise ;
it was different from all he had ever said.-
These then were his true feelings. ’ i
' I thank you, sir,’ she at length replied, ‘at
least for your frankness. I will be e nally so;
and cincc I am not to be the wife, will not
submit to the dishonor of remaining anotherday
as the mistress of Monsieur de St. Brie. We
péffi, sir, this instant for ever.’
—‘Stay, Louise, where are you going ‘I’ but
ere he had time to stop her, she descended the
stairs, and reaching ‘hestrect, contrived to evade
his pursuit.
‘ Psiia!’ he exclaimed, ‘ what a fool tliegirl
ed to him the sweetest music n_z_it_té_r_e._r:ou_l<.l_i51;_.
,- Du,’ w;J'e'fi‘;j:‘,.ur.,,|:a'l'(?l-\VlfJ3fl;9£ll ‘g5-'s"T;'~'.‘trx‘t:n~~
‘of er ualing her mother’s beauty and symmetry
of form, his satisf 'tiou was unbounded to think
that he alone. wit” outa mother’s fosteringhand.
had reared afiower so lovely. Oft, when work-
ing in his vineyard, would .he pause as his
daughter tript by with fawn like step, and aze
with true affection on his heart’s dearest ob ect.
whilst in his mind he conjured up bright dreams
of the future, and tried to trace her coming years.
A short distance from Marcel’s house was the
chateau ofthe Marquis de St. Brie,wh_o was usual-
ly resident there with his daughter. The fami-
ly of the Marquis consisted only_ of his daughter
and a son, an olficerin a light cavalry regiment.
A friendship more strong than those usually
subsisting between persons ofdifferent stations in
life, had grown up betwixt Louise and Emilie
de St. Brie, and it had been one of the chief
amusements of the latter to [instruct Louise in
those accomplishments she herself so much ex-
celled in, ol'ien reinarking, that her pupily/as so
apt lltai she should soon have little left to teach
her.
The notice taken pfhis daughter by Mam‘selle
St. Brie, was most gratifying to the feelings of
Marcel, who daily saw her gaining those ac-
complishments he so much coveted for her, but
which he had feared he should be unable to ob-
tain. But few pleasures are unalloyed, and
however great might have been the satisfaction
he felt at the notice taken of Emily, yet there
was but little iuthe reported attentionsofHenri
St. Brie, who was staying at the chateau.
Henri was by nature formed for woman's ad-
miraiion. He was of that manly dashing cast
which so often takes the heart by storm, ere
reason has time to bring its tardy succors, and
show that the advantages of a handsome person
and fascinating manners are totally eclipsed by
the blackness ofa heart formed in total contrast
to the rest, He had been but a few days at the
chateau before Louise was marked as the victim
of his _se_duct_ive arts, He foresaw that her sim-
ple and corifiding disposition would render the ac-
quirenientof her affections an easy task ; but with
all her simplicity, she entertained such high no-
tions of honor, as to make his success rather
doubtful; still he thought that one who had seen
but the fairest side of life, could but ill combat
against the tviles of one versed in all its deadliest
w"‘.’ys..- I
He sought cvery opportunity of being in her
company, and by a thousand assiduous ‘atten-
uons won his way, imperceptibly, in her affec-
tions. He pretended his passion was ofthat fer-
vent kind which drove every object but respect
from his imagination ; and vowed, could be but
gain her reluctant consent. to make her the fu.
ture Marchioness de St. Brie. There was but
one thing be stipulated’; and that was, for the
marriage to be performed in private, since he
feared his father’s anger. unless he could by de-
grees, break the circumstance to him. There
was so much plausibility in this. that she could
not believe he spoke other than the language of
truth, ' The cloven foot had in no one instance
as yet sl_i_o,wn itself, and she felt convinced his
aflections were as pure. and as fervent, as her
own.’ She yielded her cousentto a private mar-
riage.
_I-Iepri protested she had made him the hap-
piestcf inen, by he_r consent. but still there was
one thiug more, the marriage could not be per-
formcd with that secrecy which was so necessary
els,e.vvh_ere than in Paris. Would she go there?
To this she demurred that the ab,sen_ce'from her
father, without any reasonable excuse. woifld
be the cau_se of so much anguish to him, that she
would not for the _world he should feel"; but even
this scruple was oyercome by the promise of
I’.-‘J.’ ‘sale cheap for cash by
‘ - . ‘He'll .- ~ -i--- .c-- ~ -.-5'-' T‘I1»‘--~-‘F-~~-'
-393. _-’-taé.‘,5..P. — .— .otu=.tti 1. bus--2 . —- -
nei to icrsell.’ ' '
Marcel would not at first give any credence to
the report that his daughter had gone with Henri
St. Brie. No, no; he was convinced some ac-
cident had happencd which prevented her re-
turn. She was too amiable—too good to listen
to such a villain. Bad, even, as St. Brie was,
he would not rob him of such a daughter, the
only hope ofhis dccliningyears. Could he have
the heart to dishonor one so beautiful, so fair!
No, no; it was not in human nature to be so
black. But months rolled on, and his dear
Louise came not; every search and every en-
deavor to obtain tidings of her proved fruitless ;
but amidst all his complaints he never uttered
one word of reproach against her. He became;
altogether an altered man ; neglectful of every
thing, avoiding the society of his fortncr friends
and associates, and scarcely ever going beyond
the limits of his own dwelling. It was a cold
and bitter morning, in the middle ofan unusual-
ly severe winter. that he went, more by the
force of habit than otherwise, to look after the
inmates of his stable. He had his hand upon
the stable door, and was entering, when he
thought he heard a low moan, he turned round
to look from whence it proceeded, and a few
steps before him saw a woman lying on the
ground, partly hovered by the falling snow.
‘ Poor creature,’ said he, ‘ hast thou lain here
during this bitter night; had’st thou been my
worst enemy I could not have refused you shel-
ter. Here. let me lift you in my arms. and
carry you into the house, Eh ! what do see!
Merciful heavens! it is my poor Louise. She
is dying fast, and there is no help at hand. Oh!
speak to me, Louise! for heaven’s sake, speak!
Not a look ! not a word !’
The distracted father carried her into the house,
and by the aid of some warm cordials brought
her to herself; it was but to hear the recital of
her sufferings and her prayers for forgiveness.
She had arrived at her father’s house on the
preceding evening, but had not dared to enter.
and overcome by fatigue and cold, she had fallen
where he found her. Her delicate frame was
unable to withstand the shock she had sustained,
and after lingering a few days, closed her eyes
for ever on the world, happy in the assurance of
her father’s trite forgiveness.
Marcel had attended his daughter day and
night, indulging to the last in the vain hope of
her recovery; and even when life was no mere,
watched her cold corpse with the utmost anxiety
to see ifit were death’s semblance. But when
the last worldly offices were performed, and he
found that he was then alone in the world, for
weeks be shut himself up in the chamber where
she died, refusing to see or speak with any one.
It was some months after the death of Louise
that I was sitting in the Tuileries Gardens,
watching the crowds of loungers passing to and
fro along the principal avenue ; amongst those
who seemed to attract most attention was Henri
St. Brie, upon whose arm was leaning a lady
of most exquisite beauty, whom I could not fail
to recognize as his wife, to whom he had been
mar_ried only a few days. Ile appeared to be
relating something which seemed the source of
much amusement to both, when suddenly the
smile forsook his face. his countenance assumed
an air of confusion, and he sccmetl striyingto
avoid the sight of something which flashed
across him. I turned in the direction in which
he had been looking and perceiying nothing but
a poor haggard and emaciated looking man,
whose dress bespoke hirn a native of one of the
distant provinces, leaning against one ofthe trees.
His gaze seemed fixed on St. Brie; but there
was a wildness in his look, I could not at the mo.-
ment divine why St. Brie seemed so agitated
by a confused noise and
whom had wrenched from his hand a
knife. He appeared the most unmoved
nies of his victim.
were all that remained to him of life.
’Tis true I deeply wronged her, but this
In a short time the man moved away. .€iU.d I
had forgotten the circumstance, when my atten-
tion was attracted to another part of the garden,
gathered crpwd. l
hastened towards the spot. and perceived St.
Brie lying on the ground covered with blood, and
near him .v_~';.;.Qtl the man I had before remarked -,
he had been ‘s'éi’7§ed'by thc bystanders, one of
around, gazing with pleasure on the dying ago-
St. Brie was raised from the
gmllfltl. but it was clear that a few moments
‘ Marcel,’ faltered out the dying man. ‘yoti
have indeed avenged your daughter's wrongs.
bluntly
of all
7
‘ Henri,‘ said she. one; day, ‘will you-.fix the
day for oiggniarriagel "I,-,Vhcn you coiisider my
By-the-bye,
‘ Of the time when you mean to fulfill your
.es lo t,he\,se“f,-.ral soclal,;3,;lJ"i"°°9 vet we have
-'-r-... ....n.mt ;_L 1:: ._-:2-.‘.~.,,'.g Ito -1: - "
The thr_o_°.S.. , path prevented the completion
of the s?:'ii‘l'cr”it3..-;"*‘biit ere life was quite extinct,
the loud mat! latigh ofthe man rang in his ears.
‘Ah! ah I ah! I have avenged her! Look!
look! he sleeps ‘now with my poor Louise. No,
no, ’tis false-; for she's in heaven, and he-—he
has gone to joinliis master.’ '
It would have been _a m_ocl_tery of justice to
have tried Marcel for murder. for it waslclcar
the light of reason had for ever been shut out
from him. his confinement his incoherent ra-
vings were ever of his daughter, whom he
fancied near hint, but was prevented by the at-
tendants from seeing, and were only ended by
death removinghim from all his worldly stiffer-
tngs. " J. M. B.
SONG.
The man in themoon looked down one night,
Where a lag’ and his lass were walking;
Thinks be there must be very huge delight
In this kissing and nonsense talking;
And so there must, (’tis a well known case.)
For it lact§’m3.‘lTiate and early,
So they talked him down till he covered his face,
They tried hispaticnce fairly.
Then up rose the sun in his morning beams,
And i lt his night-cap to greetthcm ;
Says he, ‘ As you boast of yourdarts and flaines,
My darts and thy flames shall meet them.’
He scorched them both thro’ the live-long day
But they never once seemed to mind him.
But they latiglie-.31-utriglit as he skulked away,
And left-a durlcworld behind him. "
Then the man in the moon looked down in a pet,
And said, ‘I bdlieve I can cure you;
Tho’ my brotherlgs failed, I may conquer yet-—
If not I must try to endure you.’
‘ Go home,’ he cried, ‘and attend to my rules,
And banish all thoughts of sorrow,
Then marry at once ye couple of fools,
And ye-’ll both be wise to-niorrow.’
.g..
PUTJ.-ISIEMENT on INFANTS.
V-Ve have_,treaiiscs on the rights of man, of
woman, andfon almost every right which attach-
this mean?’ asked Gallagher. ‘I don't know
plase yer, for I nivir heard him spake eiilici
English or Irish before; the Lord beisne us and
harm,’ coniinn.-d Pat, ‘I will leave him;’ upon
saying which the ass snorted apgl again said.
‘I'm growing mad with hunger.’ Poor Pat
roared anti fell upoti his knees. and had a crowd
.-ihont him. and the ass was so frighten<=il that he
scampercd down the street; and I’at.Ici:nings
to this moment would not, for love or" money.
take home the sagticious ass. G_rallagher and
his friends thought it prudent at this crisis to
cut.—(,r'al,-out/ Avcitiser. ' ‘ i
A ptJnL.
‘Challenge him by all means, you can’t
possibly do any thing else, can he Doctor?’
said Mr. Arthur McShoothitn. ‘.l3_v all the
laws ofhonor he is inilubitably bound to chal
lcngc him,’said the Doctor; and the nnnner
in which the Doctor said it, put the matter at
rest‘, and made it impossible for Mr. Timothy
Sinitlikins, who was the third person spoken
of, to advance any thing further contrary to
that opinion; although it was with the ab-
sorbing interest und suppressed tone of despair
that would mark the criminal perusing of his
death warrant, that Mr. Timothy Stnitlikins
exclaimed,‘ I’ll challenge him 3’. ‘ Bravo,
bravo,’ ejaculated both his friends. And it
was agreed that Mr. Arthur McShoothiin
should be the bearer of the challcrige to the
offender. The important document was pen-
ned, and Arthur bent his steps with the cartel
of mortal defiance to the lodgings of the late
friend of his friend Smithkins, Mr. Jack Noi-
sy, leaving the unlucky principal with the
Doctor, to await the issue over their cham-
paigne. Poor Smithkins hung upon the ‘ten-
terhooks’ of suspense, and wondering a bun-
dred times if Jack Noisy had courage etiough
to accept the challenge ; what weapons would
he choose ’!—-what place would he appoint !—
would not his friendly feelings prepottdcrate,
and Smithkins had just eased his mind with
that conceit when footsteps were heard ap-
proaching the door.
Oh, the agony of T-iincthy Smitliltins was
insupportable, and the ehttmpaigne which ho
had drunk began to bead itselfin great drops
of perspiration on his pale but burning brow.
The door opened aud Mcshootliini entered
alone, in excellent spirits, and with a smile of
immense gratification extended his hand to
Smithkins and congratiiltited him. Smithkins
laughed and felt the blood moving through his
veins again. which ought to be sufiicient to
convince the most sceptical that they are all
alive. ‘Ha, ha, ha, I thonglit he would’nt
fight,’ said Smithkins. ‘ Oh, but he will, he
has accepted the challenge, that’s why I con-
grutulzttcd you my boy; I was afraid he
would not.’ How often this contrast between
the feelings of the principals and the seconds
cxists—-Smithkins, fortunately, laid hold of
couple of negroes whom he had hired for the
job as his secouds and by whpip ghe piece had
been quickly reloaded. ‘ blaze a _‘.,y,_ p , give
the gentleman salis/‘cation 3 chip I 'And if
there had been a ball Arthuriatitl the Doctor
would have escaped opliuit, for poishot could
have overtaken them; as fpr Smitlikiiis. from
Squire Jon-as’-s gate. his frieitidsj had’ a view of
him streaking it down intoithe yillgge ppon the
chain lightning principle. while two or'tbree of
the Villagers who had unfortunately encounter-
ed him, werejnst straiglitening themselvesaftetj
an unceremonious roll the street afforded them
by ilie concussion. ‘ " ' '
‘ Well,’ said Jack Noisy, ‘ I believe we have
won this heat; just give ’em a parting salute,
and wheel the old critter back to the Town Hall;
There's a rlolltir apiece for ye.’ ‘ 'I‘-hankee.—-
Massa Jack. when you fights another duel you
know where to come for the seconds.’ Mr.
'l‘imoihy Smiihkins. of Smithkinville, notwitli-'
standing the unremitting attentions and proverbi-
al skill of Doctor Lotion, was not seen at his
front door for three weeks af_tprwar,d,s.,-—._Ba,lq'-'
more Transc'rz'pt. " " S ’ '
ODE To ToBA_cc0,
Tobacco! there is naught disgraceg
The members of the different races,
Qt uastics up thcir llpg and faces," '
' So much as thee,
Tobacco! naught up much prpvokeg
The decency of decent folks,
Nor aught,whe_n swallow‘d. so nearly chokes,
A5 “Lee: '
Tobacco! tell me where, the plant,
That makes the user look more gaunt,
Or makes more vexed. a maiden aunt,
’ Than thee.
Tobacco! iliou art bad when puffed,
And still more horrid, when you're snuffed,
The man that chews then should be cpffed-—,
1 dc all titres.
Now, noxious weed, I bid adieu-.
To my good readers—not to you ;
For I shall puff, and snuff, and pppw,
' ‘Sweet honey dew,
Till all is blue!
,..
nutvit-:s rsuronijtnp 1.} A coop _1=AnMr:n.
Etvcry /1?":/fall’?/“"3/P¢?2,fi’T?I?fi!f hath its reward.
The qpproach of ‘winter always induces the
thoughtful, and_ careful and industrious farmer
to look about him to see that he is prepared to
mect'so boisterous and inclement a season oftlic
year in the best possible manner. His windows,
his doors, and the roofs of his building, are all
examined, and if necessary, made tight and se-
cure._ His barn and stables are looked to and
put in good order. Hts sheep, and bogs and
a cliair behind him and saved himself Elite)!!!
_ .-...—q._.’.:. .,_,’
.. ‘ ‘ - d .cl_3SS‘
IIIOIC needing and more d6SGl’VlHg pf0[80£_§...._
than any other. The power held over them is
so often and so unfeclingly abuscd. tha_t we give
from a foreign Journal, the following instance of
its criminal exercise, in the hope that it may op-
erate as a caution and deter the infliction of pun-
ishment which tnay. by the most distant possi-
bility, involve consequences that no regrets can
repair nor atonement expintc.
“The Convent of de St. Claire, at Dornbes-
leseaiix has lately been the theatre of a catas-
trophe which has plunged a highly respectable
family into the deepest grief by the loss of a be-
loved child, and created a deep sympathy
among the inhabitants of that part of the coun-
try——as much, indeed, from the melancholy
nature ofthe circumstance itself, as from the im-
exampled manner in which it took place. Mun-
sieiir and Madame B _ had placed their only
child, a beautiful girl of ten years of age, in the
above mentioned convent, conducted by Ursu-
line ntins, during several years, and enjoying a
high reputation as an establishtneut for female
education. The unfortunateehild,LouiseB
itappears had incurred the punishment of the
caclzol, or prison—ilie usual mode of correction
adopted in French schools, and ‘wasin conse-
quence shut up in the place used for that pur-
nose. It was observed that the moment the
door was closed upon the child her screams
were heightened to a remarkable degree, but no
particular importance was attached to the cir-
cumstance. and she was left in the cacliot. situ-
ated at the bottom of the garden, and at such a
distance from the house that her cries were in-
audible to the inmates. About an hour after the
child had been shut up. a violent knocking was
heard at the outer gate of the convent, which
being opened, a laboring man, who happened to
be conducting a cart along the road, which pass-
es near the premises. presented himself‘, and in
‘an authorative tone demanded ‘ whom they were
murdering in the convent?’ adding that be bad.
distinctly heard the sighs and groans of a dying
person proceeding from the premises at the bot-
tom of the garden, and insisted on knowing the
cause. The nuns immediately explained to the
man the fact of the child's intprisontucut, and
assured hitu that his iinagination had attached
more importance to the matter than was necessa-
ry. The man, nevertheless, ins1$l_8.(l upon seeing
the child, and the nuns were ultimately compelled
by his positive and determined air to accede to his
request, and they had no sooner arrived at the
spot where the child was confined than the con-
vulsive sobs and faint sighs which struck their
ears excited apprehensions for her safety. The
door was immediately opened. Wliefl 8 Spectacle
of indescribable horror_ presented itself. The
unhappy child was lying on the ground 111 8
state of the most agonizing convulsions, and a
cat employed in tearing away the flesh from her
neck and face. Every effort was had recourse
to in order to save the life of the child. but such
was the nature of the wound inflicted on.tl1e
neck of the unhappy sufferer. that She 3-‘.‘l’”e"
three days after the event, in a state of the most
horrid delirium. It is supposed that the cat,
which happened to be shut up with the child,
became in the first instance. frightened by its
screams, and subsequently infuriated.”
._—:——-——-—-——?—:——'
9
A Jllosl Ifumorous Cz"rcumslanca.——¥estcrday,
ouriturf market wasthrown into a Slate of con-
fusion, by Callagher.lhe ventriloquist. who in
order to gratify some friends with a joke, caused
the ass of a turf seller _of the name of Pat Jen-
nings, to be very eloquent. It appears that Mr.
Gr. was buying the turf. when the ass suddenly
cried--‘ Pat. l’m confounded hungry.’ Jennings
- ~ - - ;..-. m
-""”""-’.3' °“ Ar"‘imiloitL‘"‘...{ll"}'eiad tli Iziiixllengfll
3
hi?’ lEiip“oi‘i1'tiiil i iiiie jr;’_.’tid place. ‘ -us 3.0: V-igap. .,
one,‘ said Arthur, "he tv6h§ri,'._j.t- n}1t1‘f‘«__liis,,upL
extended to you the privilege of'ii'sih"g”'cn’f9t'tind~
you please; nay, you are tobriog a yariety if
you choose; he Wlll afford you the most hon-
orable satisfactioti. Is not he an adniirable fel-
low?’
‘Y-e—c—s,’ said Smitlikins. ‘ '\«Vl1en is it-—
to be—to—to’—‘ Yes, to-morrow morning at
day-break, on the commons, at the west end of
the village ; there is about forty acres 0 en there,
you know, and we are to approach by Squire
Jones’s gate. I shall awake you at five; the
Doctor will accompany us to set a limb or patch
a hole, if Noisy should not kill you right off.’-
‘ Kill me !’ exclaimed Smithkins, ‘ why it won’t
go so far as that, will it?’ ‘Oh, there is no
telling now, you know; but then the Doctor
won’t do any "thing for itim if you malte a riddle
of him. We will give you adieu now, and be
sure you are ready.’ The parties were _sr-par_a-
ting, when Arthur called out to Smitlikins to be
sure not to forget to make his will, ‘Oh dear,’
said the prospective duellist, as he staggered
home. Staggered ? yes, but not with intoxi-
cation. Thut would be a libel on 'l‘imothy’s
character. What made him stagger then’! If
you was ever engaged to fight a duel ‘to—mor-
row morning‘ you can guess. I never was, and
can only say that Timothy staggered. It is not
oitrs to follow him to the chttmber ofhis wont-
ed repose, and gaze with pitying eyes upon the
writhings oftliat carcase of anticipttted worms’
meat through the Wfllcllillgg that awful
night. _
To be brief, Al‘l.ltlll',l'lCCOmp8.l‘tle(I by the Doc-
tor, was at Smithkins’ door betimes, and after
numberless delays the trio set out for the bat-
tle ground, Squire ._Iones-'s gate was pa_st-e,d, and
each tested the elasticity of ms neck in their
eager efforts to ascertain if the other party was
on the ground. Something for in the distance.
having the advantage of a slight elevation was
discerned, but inthe ‘misty g_r-'-y of morn, the
evidence of the eye was uiisatisfactory.
In a minui_e, however, the stentorian lungs of
Jack Noisy pealed out along the. commons the
startling interrogatory. ‘ HHHOO. |l1Cl'f%. Who fife
ye’! Speak, or I fire?’ ‘ Answer him, Smith-
l<ins,tcll him who we are.’ ‘ It's us, Jack.’said
Smitlikins, -‘we are friends, you know; don't
fire!’ But you could not have heard the voice
of Mr.- Smithkins at twenty paces. _ ‘I will
speak,’ said McShoothim ‘ Mr. Noisy. you
will learn, sir. that we are M r. Timothy Smith-
ltins, Mr. Arthur McSlioothim, and Dr. Lotion,
all of Smithkinsville, in quest of that satisfac-
tion at your bands which is due to the injured
honor of a gentleman.’
The reply to this precise statement W88 m0Sl
unequivocal. for it came in the shape of a vo-
lume of fire and smoke, and a report that made
every cranuy in all Sinithkinville echo again.
It came from the black muzzle ofa six pounder,
whose voice was so well known throughout the
village that the inhabitants raised their night
capped heads, rubbed their eyes, and hurrali’d
for Nlndependence,’ thinking that the 4th of
July had caught them asleep. Suiithkins drop-
ped on the ground like two yards oftape. Mc-
Shooiliim thought he heard a bunch o_f_grapc
hustle past his ears, and the Doctor. taking off
his cravat, fastened it t_o the end ofhis cane, and
waved it over his head as a flag oftruce, ‘ VVell,
come on,’ bawled Noisy, ‘and l.et’s hear what
you have got to propose.-’
Mcslioothim advanced and stated that they
were prepared for the duello, and had brought
with them muskets, pistols, broadsworrls. and
small swords, and they "expected-—’ ' Yes. but
instantly got in a state of the greatest agitation,
Henri, that on their return her father should be
by it.
and blessetl himself over and over. ‘What can
poultlry halve all ctpmfortablc, dry lodgings pre-
.. . ur t. mun in ‘ma season, for he knpws p 3‘
ii? iii.'5‘.‘.§éa°““ ’"“"’ and ‘*0 Well. thzitiiv ii’ ‘
cl ' an we-” red; and OVOIV " J mad’:
1»
clean ziiltl ct'ih'i fu"t'tumc..,- ' . , woes, bfip 3,",
kl’-§£1W)b[i§ .lltPbIP°i“9l”’r"'II”‘°"’Nl ' -‘er fruits add
‘enema es are yvell‘;t_secured against ((051, and.
placed in such positions that ready access can
be had to them when necessary, without subject-
ing them to danger of injury by egpcspre to the
weather. His fuel is so’ arranged and prepared
for current use that his family can procure it
without any unnecessary exposure to the rude
blasts of winter. His fields and ineadpws are
kept closed during the winter and early part of
spring ; so that animals may pot be permitted
to ramble over them and injure his’g_rounds,
Ills barn yard is so arranged that his catths
never leave it during the period of winter feed.-
ing, by which means he saves all their manure
for the nourishment of his crops. His implt--:
ments of husbandry and food are carefully
housed and arranged in good order, so that they
can be had when wanted for use. His gardep,
in xvhich not a weed has been permitted to per-
foct and scatter its seed during the autumn. is
:hrown up into ritlgsés about 'ci’gh,l_t-ten ,i.DC,h€§
high. separated only by trenches extending from
end to end of the beds; this he knows exposes
the soil to the nieliorating influence of the _f_r_n_,$_t1,
destroys the giubs and §.Y_f)ffllS_ which §ee_lt refuge
during the winter, deep in the ground, and in-
duces the ground moles to seek out for dryer and
warmer lodgings elsewhere. By this plan of
ritlging his garden in the fall. as soon as frost is
out in the spring, his beds are dry and warm,
and admit of being leveled and worked at pppc,
long before flat. wet ground can with propriety
be moved by the spade ; thig cpables hi5 family
to have a supply of garden vegetables several
weeks earlier than those who have less intelli-
gence or industry; the deeper tilth and more
thorough pt.-lverization of the soil. clsc increases
the growth of his plants. and enables them the
better to protect themselves against the contin-
gencies of either very dry or very wet seasons.-_.
[t'_arm,cr’s Cabinet.
<.
7'_1/pographirral Wil.—-One meetipg an ac.-
qnainiance, who was a printer, inquired of him
if it was true Mr. had put 8 jlefllogi 19
his existence? ’
‘ No,’ replied the typographer. ‘ be only put a
colon; for he is now ‘in a fair way of recovery.’
l«Vomcn.—ln Kentucky there are colleges for
women, which cotifer on their fair pupils the li-
tles of ‘ M. P. -' M. A.’ 5S;c.. meaning -‘Mis-
tress of Polite ‘Literature,’ ~‘Mistress pf Arts.’
Somebody suggests an improvement, apd re:
commends institutions, which. inste_a_d of these
titles, shall give their students, -‘M.13,-P-.'
Makes Good Puddings; ,C,,-’ as Good
Children; ‘ S. l.S_l.,’ Knits Stockings Neatly;
,-M. H. IL,’ Makes Husbands Happy, ‘
Difficult to pl_ease.—A geutlernan who had
just been shaved by 9 barber. (says lh°_B°5!°'?
Post) asked for a tow lto Wipe his I999 Wllhv and
upon being presented with one, inquired of ll'.lP
master ofthe shop if he had not another. ' No.’
replied the barber, ‘ all my customers have used
that for three weeks, and 90 9"? “Y?!
fault with it pefore.’
A Soldier’ at Anc/tor.--A military oflicer
who most cordially detested the h_al_berds._used, as
a substitute for flogging’. '10 “P039 d9llD.‘lU9“!3
,,p,,,,'pa,ade §,yir};'alaige iron bomb-shell attach-
ed to one of their legs.’ One day, when several
men were undergoing the punishment. a sailor,
who by chance had strolled near, called out to
his c...',..,_..._.,..,....-..-f1t_Iy fives: shiizmptesl only
just loolt lier,e—I.’lI1 .ol.est~tf here pg‘; 3 g'{§l§,*§§
you forgot to bring a cannon,’ said Jnr:k—‘blazc
away my boys,’ he continued, addressing a-
at OIICIZOI’.
Norwalk Chronicler