._
«’ ‘Publislied Every \Vedne_
/\/'\/\’\/\/\/\
\r- .r_— .r-y-\r\/\/\/\/\./x/K/\/-./\,-\_»\_,-_/-\_
- NUMBER S 4272-I-‘N‘E VI-'“_ SERIES.
'l‘erms‘.oI' the (Piaget-tc., SADDLE-IS, HAIENESSI-25,, d:c.
Village subscrib8_I'8 by carrier——per year $22 00 ‘
Mail do. A s-in advance do. do. :2 00
' Office subscrihers,;or those living out of ‘
the Carrier’s‘ district,laud‘*who‘call for
. their papers at the office,
Companies of five or more receiving their
papers by ‘mall, if paid in advance
4
‘ ./ .
. ' ' L,‘
Y HE subscriber -wniild respectfully inform
the public that he has on hand a large
and extensive assortment offlarnesses, Saddles,
1 50 Bridles, Martingales, Trunks, Valises, Carpet-
Bags, &c. which are ready made and on hand.
_ Also a first rate assortment of Carriage and Ri-
ding \Vliips, which are for saleat a small ad-
150
Ternis of Atlvcrtisiiig.
""3 °'-l“5~‘v l"5‘:fll°“i ----------- - - Vance from fiictory prices. Harness Collars,
' H ' ' ‘ ' ‘ ‘ ‘ ' ' ' ' ' ' . .. wholesaile and retail. A good iissortinent of
‘ fl is ,, saddler's silk. pu‘i'se twist,-embracing .-all colors
,0 .. 1 .. __________ __ _ 50 and qualities. Lvery article needed in the line,
.. u 3 -. ___________ , _ 75 4 may be_ found here, of the best quality, and will
', 15 H 1 H . .......... . . (52 be sold as low as can be furnished by any one,
"‘ “ 3 “ ~ ........... . . 87 not excepting the groundjloor establislnnent on
90 “ I l“ ----- - -: ---- - - 75 - the other sidegofthe Bridge.
" i " 3 " - - - - - - - - - - - - -I 00 Repairing done at the shortest notice, and in
For continuance, per week, 20 per cent. on the
-price of3 insertions. For continuance one quarter‘
or over. 15 per cent. V. ‘ .»
Yearly advertisers allnwetl 2'2lii1es, with the priv-
ilege ofl7 chaiiges, $312. One square ‘('20 lines-
the best manner. VVM. B. S\VAN. ‘
Norwalk, June 21, 1847.
“ The Peoples’ Store”
IS the place to find a beautiful assortment of
Goods for Ladies’ Cloaks—such as Alpac-
cas, Plaid hlerino, Ashland Plaids, Mode Lus-
tres, Bl'k, Royal Purple, Nazarene Blue and
Mode CoLored French M erinos, &c. &c.
BISSELL 66 MOODY.
piiper not iiicliidcd) per year, with the privilege of
changing quarterly. $8. _ ~
NU advertisements will be inserted gratis. Obit
iia‘r_v' notices exceeding 5 lines in length unless ofgeii
Ural interest, will he charged as advertisements.
insertion
a
Transient advertisemeiits, to insure
must be accompanied with the cash.
~ ‘y
NEW entree-
i This 'ecciv
I £0‘ a
I have new received my full stock of Fall and \Viter Goods, consisting of every article that
can be called for in an extensiee dry goods establislimcnt. My goods will be sold at the lowest
cash prices, and many’ of them at 30 per ceutless than the same goods could have been sold for
3 Weeks since. ' l
, . _ For GENTLEMEN I have real bargains in the way of Cloths, Cassimeres, Satinetts.
Vestings, Cravats, Colars, Gloves, Hosiery, Suspenders. Braces, Under Garments, (Sic.
For the LADIES I have Caslim ere, Square and Long Shawls. Printed Cashmere,
Plaid Long and Square Shawls, Heavy \Voolen ‘do; and they will be sold at prices so low that
all will be astonished to see the quality. I nave the best assortment of Rich, Plain and Fancy
Dress Goods ever offered in this State, consisting of Silks, Satins, Plaid and Plain French Me-
riuoes,-Alpaccas, De Lanes, Highland Plaids, French Lustres. and other goods to numerous to
mention. For Ladies’ Cloaks. French Mcriuoes, Tliibet Clot.h, Highland Plaid, Satin Striped
Thibet Cloth. Satin Levantin. &c. with trimmings in all their variefics to match. For Ladies’
Evening and Party dresses, I have white and embroidered Robes. Jenny Lyudo Crapes (an en-
tire new article, very rich,) white Satin Muslins, écc. - -
- "For Millinary Goods my assortment’consist.s in part of Silk Plush, uncut Velvet and Satins of
~_all colors, with trimmings to match,‘also FtllllC|‘S,‘ Flowers, ‘Laces, Blonds, die. In Fancy
Goods I have a very heavy stock at 'greatly reduced prices; in fact my stock is completed, and
ii'll’are'invited to call and examine for themselves, as all will be received and used with polite-
‘ness and attention, and none urged to buy, as I believe my goods will recommend iliemselves in
quality and prices. , _ ' C. J. GR-UMAN,h.
. Norvi'all"i, Nov. -15t'.s*18-'17. " ' -' -* - " ‘ "
s . HO FOR THE -
LAND OF CANAAN!
'I‘he GREAT DEPGT of
iI~‘Am. &
at
T. & W . E. RAYMGND.
THE attention of-purchasers in this line is called to the great additions to our former
ctock, received this day. Purchased with the strictest care as to Fashionable styles, and at un-
usual low prices, we are determined to make great sales by selling at very small profits. In
fact the great increase of patronage at this 0$.lttl)llSl]lDetl.l2_ has compelled us (to keep pace with
"the wants oftlie pubblic) to make arrangements to receive new goods every \veek until January.
1848. \-Ve shall not attempt to enumerate our large stock of new goods, sufiice it to say; al-
most avery desirable article in the Dry Goods line may here be found very cheap for cash or ap-
proved credit.-
New Canaan, Oct. 18, 1847. T. 6: VV. E. RAYMOND.‘
iNew:G-beds for. the Fall Trade of 1847.
S F ~Atthe old stand of
save m.-z"a.&& an
TI.-IE subs'ci'ibers are happy in being able to announce to their patrons and the public gen-
36
Q
\..‘. -
‘ ' raelly. that their firstiinvoice of FALL GOODS has just been received.
- They would part.i_cularly invite the attention of the ladies ofNorwalkand its vicinity to. their
beautiful assortment of DRESS GOODS, comprising the following new styles, viz : '
Plaid and Silk Strip’d Alpaccas, Camelion _Pl'aids—and Stripes, Orgaudies, Sl'rip'd Clem-
entities, Eglantine Plaids, Mode Alpaccas; Cobourg Cloths, Twilled Gingha ms, California and
Oregon Plaids, Cashmere, -M de Laines, (Sic. Also, some splendid styles of new & fashionable
-among. which may be found---Plaid and Striped Poult. de Loies, Gro de Rhines, Mattoines,
A Satin Striped, Watered, écc. 65¢. Also an excellent assortment of ‘
'E’?~'eo.nI!.s ezuroac-31 @?fl.:o3.€‘se..>:<= Efilhawngg
' such iii Nett, Mandarine, Stradilla, Cashmere, Heavy \Vool, dcc. .
- They would also invite those gentlemen who are in pursuit of any thing in the shape of
Cloths, Cassimeres or Vestings. to a full and suberb assortment of French, English and Air cri-
.can _B_roadc_loths and Cassimeres, besides a great vai-it-.t.y of Fall and Winter V estings. Also, a
full assortment of every thing usually called for in the Dry Goods lin.
Under Shirts and Drawers.
FIRST rate assortment of the above
, goods justweceived and for sale as cheap
as they can be bought in New York. ‘Also,
cravats, scarfs, bosoms, collars an_d shirts in any
quantity, at M; \VAKEMAN'S. .
_ in owg as assoi e i_
c BOXES W‘ (I l ‘t df'om
6x8 to 24x30, for sale_ at manufac-
turers’ prices, by’ C. STREET.
I-IARNESSES, dtc.
New »l3sta_blish.ineiit!
attention of the public is invited to the
' new Saddlery Establishment just opened
by the subscriber under the Connecticut Hotel.
~‘His stock and workmanship he believs to be'ful-
ly.equal -to the best, and.-his attention will be
,_assiduously given to meet the wishes, and secure
the ap.probation.of all who favor him with their
pi_itronii_ ge. Woi'l< done at short notice, and pri-
'cé‘s ii_i'od{3r1l,t6-, _ . A . :.. , _
‘-‘goodil assortment of Harnesses, Saddles,
115:-idles,”Whips_. Trunks‘,-_ Vfll|SeS,' Carpetbalgs,
. wj||ibe- kept constantly on- hand, andifor-sale
cheap. ‘ _"-1~ —’ ' '
. .=,.I,t,epai;_-lug done iua -neat,-substantial, and ex-
~‘r_9.dl£i9vs~mann.¢I'-- .. 1*‘.!.“=I>l~"-“CK BM°iI+‘Y- , LAMP 011..
..1)l°ri!n1li..Jiiii¢ 9!».-1.847-. ~ . . . -2° SEW IBEDFORD Limp Oils of-O. my su-
_ ~ :.N.0THE-R largelot-"of Saline Saltin small , perior quality, for ~sale;by..t"lieibarrell orat
A ,.b_,‘,,_,“,_ 1,. A. _._: QLMs'pE;_\D';S._ . ',retailby W. C._ iSTREET. Nov. 2d.
OSTON SOAP.-‘-—A new supply of very
superior quality of N.o 1. Boston Soap
Just received and, for sale at BuaAL1.’s,
Nor\valk_l\Iach5,1,8,47,._ _ _. .,
./-./\/‘x/'\.z\t'\r\/\/x/\/\/x/\‘_/\,~-
Nor.ii:VAlLI<,i CT.‘ WEDfNESDA#Yi.‘.JANU_ARY 19,
s ct auy 1110 r n i nug,
"xxx
THE BACHELOR’S,LA;\lEN’I‘.
R.etui'iiing home at close of da)’
\Vho gent'y chides my long delay,
And by my side delights to stay ?
Nobody.
VVl:o sets for me the easy chair,
. Sets out the room with neatest ci_ii'e,
Andlays my slippers rcady t.here '!
' » " , Nobody.
And piles the blazing fuel higher.
And bids me draw my chair still nighei"!
Nobody.
\Vhen plunged in dire and deep distress,
And anxious cares my heart oppress,
\Vho whispers hopes of happiiiess T
' . ‘ Nobody.‘
- \Vlicn anxious thoughts within me rise,
And in dismay my spirit dies:
\-Vlio soothes me with her kind replies?
Nobody.
\Vlien sickness racks my feeble frame,
And grief distracts my fevei-’d hi-ain,
VVho synipatliises with my pain?
Nobody.
'.l‘li_en I’ll resolve, so help nae fate,
To clian'Ie at once the single state,
And will to Hymen’s altar take—
‘ Somebod_v.'
’ IVIISCELLANY.
DEATH OF MIKE FINK.
‘f The last of the Boatmen” has not be-
come alttigetlier a mytliic personage.-
"l’here be around us those who still re-
member him as one of flesh and blood, as
P well of proportions simply human, albeit
he lacked not somewhat of the heroic in
stature, as well as in being a “ perfect ter-
ror” to people! ._
As i'eg:irds Mike, it has not yet become
that favorite question of doubt—“ Did
such a being really live 1” Nor have we
heard the skeptic inquiry-—“Did such a
being really die '!” But‘his death in half
a dozen different ways and places has been
asserted, and this, we take it, is the first
gathering of the mythic haze—tliat shad-
owy and indistiuctpnlargement of outline,
which, dcepning through long ages, in-
vests distinguished mortality with the
subliincr attributes of the hero and the
derni god. Had Mike lived in “ early
Greece,” his flat boat feats would, doubt-
less, in poetry, have rivalled those of Ja-
son, in his ship: while in Scandinavian
legends, he would have been a river god,
to a certainty! The Sea kings would have
sa“crific‘ed"to‘hiin-every time they “‘(:T()ss-
ed the bar,” on their rt-turn; and as for
Odin, himself, he would be duly advised,
as far as any interference went, to “lay
low and keep dirk, or, pre-hops,” &c.
The story of Mike Fink, including a
death, has been beautifully told by the late
Morgan Neivellc, of Cincinnati, a gentle-
man of the highest literary taste, as well
as of the most amiable and p')lished man-
ners. ‘.‘The last of the B_oatmen,” as his
sketch is entitled, is uncxceptionable in
sfyle, and, we believe, in fact, with one
exception, and that is, the statement as to
the manner and place ofFink’s death. He
did not die on the Arkansas. but at Fort
Henry, near the mouth of the Yellow
Stone. Our informant is Mr. Charles
Keemle of this paper, who held a com-
mand in the neighborhood, at the time,
and to whom every circumstance connec-
ted with the affair is most familiar. VVe
give the story as it is told by himself.
In the year 159.2, steamboats having
left the “keels”.and “broad horns” en-
tirely “out of sight,” and Mike having,
in conscqiience,,fa,llen from his high es-
tate—that of being “ a little bit the al-
mightiest man on the river, any how”--
after a term of idleness, frolic and despe-
rate rowdyism, along the different towns,
he, at St. Louis, entered the service of the
Mountain Fui Company, as a trapper and
hunter; and in that capacity was he em-
ployed by Major Henry, in command of
the Fort atthc mouth of Yellow Stone
river, when the occurrence took place of
which we w-rite. ‘ _
Mike, with many generous qualities,
was always a reckless dare devil; but, at
this time, advancing in years _and decayed
in influence, above all become a victim of
whiskey, he was tnorose and desperate in
the extreme. There was a government
regulation which forbade the free use of
alcohol at the trading posts of the Missouri
river, and this was a continued source of
quarrel between the men and the comman-
ment, Major Henry——o_n the part. of Fink,
particularly. One of his freaks was to
march with his rifle into the fort, and de-
mand a supply of spirits. Argument was
fruitless, force nct to be thought of, and
when, on being denied, he drew up his rifle
and sent a ball through the cask, delibe-
rately walked up and filled his_can_, while
his particular “ boys” followed his exam-
ple, all that could be done was to look
upon the matter as one of his “ queer
ways,” and that was the end of_it.
This state of-things continued for some
time; I\’likc_’s temper and iexactions grow-
ing more unbearable every "day, until,
finally,a ‘fspliti’ took place, not only be-
tweenbiinsclf and the commandant, but
many'others in the fort, and the unruly-
boatman swore he would not live among
them. Followed only by a youth named
Carpenter, whom he had brought up, and
for whom he felt it rude but strong at-
tachment, he. prepared a sort of cave in
the river’s‘banlt, furnished it with,n sup-
ply of xvliiskey, and, with‘ his companion,
turned in to pass the wi_nt.er, \vhi___ch, was
\Vho regulates the clieeiful fire, \ i
/\/\/\r\r\/\/\/\_/\/\/\/\/N
then 1.-losing upon them.’ ‘in this place he
Fhnried himself, s‘on‘iet-imes unseen for
“"€€li-°a his ' protege providing what else
,l1'€CeSSflry'beyond the whiskey. At length
jatternpts were used, on the part of those
in the fort, to withdraw Carpenter from
Fink ; foul insinuations were, made as to
the nature of their connection; the youih
ivastwitteil with being a -mere slave, Sic.
all uliich (Fiiik llt;'_ftl‘d-Of it in spite of his
. rctircincrii) served to‘ breed ‘distrust be
tween theitwo, and though they did not
separate, much of their ciordiiiliiy ceased.
I The winter were away in this sullen
‘state of torpor; spring came with its re-
,viving influvnce, and to celebrate the sea-
lson, a supply ‘of alcohol was procured,
and a number of his acquaintances from
,the fort coming to ‘-‘ rouse out” ll"!-iltc, a
:d.espcrate~_‘ frolic," of course, ensued.
[ There wereprivcr yarns, and boatmeu
‘songs, and "‘ nigger break downs,” inter-
spersed with wrestling matches, jumping,
‘laugh, and yell, the can circulating freely,
until Mike" became somewhat inollified.
l ‘‘I tell you what it is, boys,” he cried,
by'BfY[NGToN.‘5iiH.'0YTs all TW° D°”i‘"5 -_Per' Annum in Aclvailce.
ifs-is. , i
I Mike carried his rifle across his arm,
and made no hostile demonstration, except
in gradually getting nearer-—if liostile his
all" “WIS.
“ Talbott, you’ve accused me of inur-
1deriiig-—my boy—Carpenter——that I rais-
,ed from a child—ihat I loved like a son-
,that I can’t live without !- l’iu not mad
gwitli you mow, but you must let me show
lynu that I couldn't do it-that I'd rather
ldie-d than done it—that you’ve wronged
- me——"
By this time he was wiihin a few steps
of tlte door, and Talbott’s agitation he-
came extreme. Both pistols were pointed
at Fink’s breast, in expectation of a spring
from the latter.
“ By the Almighty above us, Fink, l’ll
fire—I dou’t want to speak to you tio,w—-
don’t put your foot on that-sicp——don’t.”
Fink did put his foot on the step, and
the same momerit fell heavily u-iiliiu it,
receiving the contents of both barrels in
his breast. His last and only words were
“I didn’t mean to kill my boy!”
Poor Mike! ue are satisfied with our
“ the fort ’s a skunk hole, and I rather
live with the lxars than stay in it. Some
on ye's bin tryingpto part inc and my boy,‘
that I love like my own cub— but no imit-
ter. Maybe he’s pisoned against me ; but,
Carpenter, (striking the youth heavily on!
the shouldcr,) l took you by the hand
when it had forgotten the touch of a fath-
er’s ora mother’s——you know me to be a
man, and you ain’t. a going to turn out a
dear. !”
Wdietlier it was that the youth fancied
something insulting in the manner
of the appeal, or not, we can’t. say;
but it was not responded to very warmly,
and a ‘ _ach followed from Mike.
However, tlicy drank jtogellier, and the
frolic Went on, until Mike, filling his can,
walked off some forty yards, placed it
upon his head, and called to Carpenter to
take his rifle. , g
This wild feat of shooting cans offeach
oiher’s hi-ad was a favorite one with Mike
—himself and “boy” generally w;n(];n',_,.'
up a hard frolic with this savagze, but deep-}
ly meaning proofofcontinncd confidence;
as for risk, their eagle eyes and iron nerves!
defied the iiiiglit of wliiskey. Alter thciri
recent alienation, a doubly generous im-l
pulse, without doubt, had induced Fink toi
propose and subject himself to the test.
Carpenter had been drinl.in_g wildly,
and with a boisterous laugh snatched up,
his rifle. All present had seen the parliesl
“ shoot,” and this desperate aim, instead,‘
of alarming, -wasmerely made a matter of
wild jest. "’ ' ‘ ‘
“Your grog is spilt for ever, Mil-re!”
“'Kill the old Varmint, young ’im 1”
“ \\'liat’ll his skin bring: in St. Louis ?”
Amid a loud laugh, Carpenter raised his
piece—even thejesters remarked that he
was unstead_v; crack ! the can fell, aloud
shout—but., instead of a s-mile of pleasure:
a dark frown settled upon the face of.
Fink! He made no moron except ‘to’
clutch his rifle as l.l‘.0ll,.'_Tl’l he would have
crushed it, and there he stood "gazing at
the youth strangely! Various shades of
passion crossed his features-—surprise,
rage, suspir'ion—but at length they com-,
posed themselves into a sad expression ;_l
the ball had gzrazed the top of his head.5
cutting the scalp,and the thought of treach-l
er_v had set his heart on fire.
There was a loud call upon Nike to,
know what he was waiting for, in which!
Carpenterjoined, pointing to the can upon;
his head and bidding him fire, if he knew!
how! i
.“ Carpenter, my son,” said the hoatman,.
“I taught you to shoot differently, from!
that last shot ! You’ve missed once, butl
you won’t. again !”
He fired, and his ball, crashing through,
the forehead of the youth, laid him a
corpse amid his, as suddenly hushed, com-.
panions!
Time wore on—man_v at the fort spoke
darkly of the deed. Mike Fink had nev-_l
er been known to miss his aim—he ha
.grown afraid of Carpente-r—he had inur-;
dered him. While this feeling was gatli-,5
ering against him, the unhappy boatmanl
lay in his cave, shunning both sympathyl
and sustenance. He spoke to none-—l
when he did come forth, ’twas as a scep-i
tie, and only to haunt the grave of “his;
boy,” or, if he did break silence, ’twas to:
burst into a paroxysm of rage against the
enemies who had “ turned his boy’s heart
from him!”
At the fort was a man by the name of
Talbott, the gunsmith of the station: he
was very loud and bitter in his denuncia-
tions of the “ murderer,” as he called
Fink, which, finally, reached the ears of‘!
the latter, filled hiui with the most violent'
passion, and he swore that he would take
the life of his defamer. This threat was
almost forgotten, when one day, Talbott,
who was at work in his shop, saw Fink
enter the fort, his first visit since the death
of Carpenter. Fink app"roached; he was
care worn, sick, and wasted ;‘ there was
iioianger in his bearing, but he carried his
rifle, (had he ever gone without it '1.) and
the gun smith was not a coolly‘ brave man ;
moreover, his life had been threatened.
9‘ Fipk !” cried he, snatching up a pair
ofpistols from his bench, “ don’t approach
me—-ifyou do,-you’re a dead man !”
“Talbott,” said the boatman, in. a sad
voice,’ “you needn’t be afraid; you’ve
done me wrong——l’.m‘come to talk to you
about—Carpenter-‘my boy l”
‘ He continuedto advance, and the gun-
sinith again called to liiin:
, “ Fink! I know you; if you come three
steps nearer, 1’ll firc,"‘by l”
sei.ior’s conviction that you did not mean
to kill him. Suspicion of trcaclici'y, doubl-
less, entercd his mind, but cowardice and
murder never dwelt there.
A few weeks after this event, l'albott
himself perished in an attempt to cross the
Missouri river in a skiff.
./7 Good Story—But (L Lilt/e To:/g.’i.—
“Uncle Ezra,” an old joker soiiiewliere
down lfast, gives the following as his
last:
“l/Vben Ilived in Maine,”
helped break up a new piece
we got the wood off in the winter, and
ar/y in the spring we begun to think of
ploughin’ on’t. It was so consarned rocky
that we had to get forty yoke of oxen to
one plough—we did, faitli-——and I held
that plough for more than a. \veek——I
thought l should die. It e’en a must kill-
ed ine, 1 van.‘ Why, one day I was hold-
in’ and the plough hit a stump, which
mcasuredjust nine-fool and a half through
it—hard and sound white oak. The
plough split ii,:ind l was going straight
through the stump, when I happened to
think it might snap together agin, sol
just throw my feet 0tll‘,atlt’l I had no soon-
er done this, than it snapped together,
taking a smart hold of the seat of in_v pan-
taloons. Of course I was tight, but l hell
on to the plough handles, and though
the teamstcrs did all they could, that
team of eighty oxen couldn’.t tear my
pantaloons——-nor cause me to let go my
grip. At last, though, after letting the
caitle breathe, they gave another strong
pull altogether, and the stump came out
about the quickest; it had monstrus long
roots too, let me tell you. My wife made
the cloth for them pantaloons, and l haint
worn any other kind since.”
The only reply Snool-s made to this
was-—- “I should have thought it would
have come hard on your suspenders."
A VVIIISTLING YANKEE.
“Prepare to P’u('ft‘£’I‘.”'—s0l'tlt-‘ years since
a Yankee from the land of “notions,”
travelling westward, found himself minus
of cash, after his arrival at the flourishing
village of Pan esville, Ohio. Bot Yan-
kees are proverbial for tact, and can turn
their wits many ways to supply the need-
fiil. So our Yankee traveller, being keen
at whistling‘, perambulated the village,
with his hands stuck into his empty pock-
ets whistling a variety of national airs,
much to the amusement of all. Seeing
that his einployineni took with the multi-
tude, he set himself up as a teacher of
the science of whistling, and reasoned
very gravely. that as iriultitudes would
whistle it would be well for them to learn
the science rigthfully, jiidging that what
ought to be done at all, should be done
well—i. e. upon scientific principles. He
believed that there were far less persons
vs ho could learn this science, than was
generally supposed—-that there was no
reason why the female sex, with acknowl-
edged better voices than the males, should
be denied the privilege of whistling, and
descanfed largely upon the advantages to
be derived from a thorough knowledge of
the science. In short, a school was star-
ted at once,and many a young limb of the
law, medical students and clerks, with
their ladies were subscribers. The price
was fixed at fifty cents per couple, and
always paid in advance, by which our
Yankee friend spiced his pockets.
The evening for the first lesson arrived
and with it a goodly number of gems and
ladies at a Hotel waiting the promised in-‘
struction. 'Ilie preliminary observation
was made that no one would be assureil
of any improvement unless they carried
out the precise instructions and obeyed
the command of the teacher.
All were standing upon the floo_r, upon
the tiptoe of expcctation,.when our Yan-
kee gave forlh his first command with
great gravity :—“Prcpare to Pucker I”
All .,anticipated the next comii:and_,—
“Pucker !”—and instantly a roar of laugh-
ter shook the house to its foundation.
It‘ is necessary to say that the next day
our Yankee traveller was seen wending his
way westward with full pockets and whist-
ling many a merry tune, while those. who
had taken th.-ir first lessons in the science
of whistling were hailed at every turn of
the street, with the by‘-word-——“Prepare to
:P ucker ."’——Puc1t1~:R !
Cattaraugus W/iig.
said he, “l
of ground;
“I am going toidraw this beam, into a
knot,” as the lady said when standing at
the hymenial altar. .
\-I -J\/.\/\4'\r\./\/\/\/—\ r'\
VOLUME
31-NU1vii3Ea,.’, 31.
, _ ,iI'.'rom-‘the N. Y. 1;;-angéziég.--: *
THE PRICE OF OUR BIEXICAN
‘ VICTORIES. . I
ed through the land,"of' victories obtained
by our army in Mexico. 'l he melancholy‘
in which thousands of our fellow men
have fallen, is now arrestino universal at-
=tention. ~ It is reported Illa: at the close
ofthis last dreadful battle, more than five
l;llt)llStlfl(tll Aldexipans, and more’. that; pug’
t ousan inericans were scatteite over
.the ficld of conflict, uelterino; in blood‘.
We have gained many signaf victories.
Let us for a moment contemplate the price
we have paid for them.
Look first at the money which these
victories have cost. Though an item of
such comparative insignificunce as to be
hardly worth mentioning, yet it is in itself
truly lamentable. Expanded in internal
improvements, the snin spent in this war
would have called into existence :1 thou-
sand beautiful villages, and would have
fprcad (liver the land tens of thousands of
in v iomes, whose eace and love
iiiiigiifil have uiadeinclodlir on earth and
cheered the carrot lie-oven. Humanity
weeps in reflecting that this enormous
sui(p has been expended in bombarding
an burninrr cities anti villaoes instead of
rearing tliefn; in tlesolzitingliriiiies instead
of blessing; in destroying husbands and
fathers, instead of opening before them
and.
According to the most moderate coin-
putation,.not less than twelve thousand
on both sides, have perished on the field.
of battle, and more than three times that
number, in consequence of the diseases
and hardships of the camp. . In many
thousand dwellings, scattered through the
lvill-ages of the United States and over the
plziins and the hill-sides of Mexico, there
are now the wailings ofanguish ascending,
so loud and heart-reading that could they
be collected‘ in one volume, the tone
would tippttl the t\'Oi’l(l. '] he [hunders of
the battle have been hushed; the shrieks
the mangled, crushed and torn by iron
lioofs and artillery wheels, have given
place to the silence of death. But look
at these thousand mothers grazing in
speechless despair upon their orphan
children. Their fathers are all slain...
Many of them, in the frenzy of their woe,
call upon death to come to their relicf.-—
But death will not come. Summers and
winters, long, long in their hours of
wretclicdness, will linger away, but no
joy will again visit those desolate heat-the.
There is the young wife, with her first-
born infant in her arms. She is in a
dwelling of opulence. Butthe lineaments
of undying woe are furrowed deep upon
her youthful cheek. Her husband is slain.
We may illuminate oii.r dwellings, and
ring peals of triumph. But. who can tell
the agony with which slie,presses,lier or-
phan bzibe to her bosom. The world may
forget these bloody battles; but she will
not forget them. Her child must live
and die without knowing a father; and
ere long her"own heart may break under
the burden of insupportable sorrow.--
There are hugndre-ds of young mothers
thus weeping over the destruction ofevery
eartlilyliope. Brilliant victories are
they '! Alas! awful is the price which
they have cost. The father has lost the
in grief to his grave.
The mother haslost her warm hearted
boy, and will never smile again. More
than twelve thousand families are thus
desolated, woe striken, and the anguish
will linger on their hearts till death shall
release them. -
But those who have perished on the
field of battle are but a small proportion
of the victims this war .has devoured.
{Take one fact as an illustration. Six
‘months ago, a regiment of eiglit hundred
,men left South Carolina for Mexico. A!
;Vera Cruz one hundred and forty died,
and three hundred and sixty were lcft.§ick
in the hospital there and at Puebla. In
the late battle two hundred and seventy
two only were in a condition to figlil,and‘
fat the close of the battle one hundred ad’
fthirty five of them, including their co -
-nel, were left dead upon the field. Thus
has this regiment of young men dwindled
away in six months from eight liuiidretf
,to one hundred and thirty five, one half of
fwlioin will undoubtedly yet perish on the
‘fields of Mexico. This is the price which
’onc regiment has paid for our victories.
l Who can tell the wee which this has car-
?ried among the mothers and maidens of
South Carolina. ‘
l Multitndes in these battles have been
‘maimed for life. Could we look in upon
lt-he hospitals, where the mutilated victims
"are groaning and writhing in agony, the
spectacle would appal the stoutest heart.
The sight is too horrible for us to endeav-
or to remove the veil. There the poor
creatures lie mutilated and mangled in
every conceivable degree. The day be-
fore the battle hundreds of young men
stood erect in youth andbeauty, and in all
the vigor of the fairest proportions. They
were the pride of mothers and, sistets.-—_-
The rear of battle is over, and_ they are
strewn upon the ground in melancholy
deformity. Here is one with both legs
shot off, another with the jaw bone gone.-;
another with an arm torn from his shoul-
der, and both eyes trampled out. beneath
the horses’ hoofs. They must yet live
years of misery, of beggary. They can
never know a home. They can never_b_o'
called father. Every joy of life is blotted
Again and again the tidings have pass. _
intelligence-of another sanauinary victory! »
D I
facilities for cultivating and adorning the '
pride of his hopes and will go tottering .
Norwalk Chronicler