Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk Gazette, Tuesday, October 21, 1862 · page 1

← Back ‹ Prev page Next page ›
n / p pages
 

 

 

 

 

 

' t

PUBLISHED EVERY

TUESDAY MORNING

BY

 

A. H. BYINGTON & co.

 

AT

 

TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE:

 

 

fl

 

 

a timid Stewards, Sunni in SW SW and Sutton. tonal dualism 311mm more. guanine. agenda, tau-cannula in» man. ‘ I .

NUMBER '772--NEW'SERIES, ’

~ NORWA-LK, CONN, TUESDAY, 3 OCTOBER-2’4 1862,

VOLUME firm—NUMBER 4‘2.

 

 

 

 

 

NORWALK GAZETTE."
(lumen IN GAZETTE BUILDING.

________.___._.._
‘ A.H.BYINGTON & CO.
A. H. Brmaron, J. B. ELLs, G, R ELLs-

Subscription Rates.

All Subscribers by Carrier, Mail, Post Riders and
' ' Wagoners, per year , ,
Those living out of ugly Carrier’s District, if ‘ '
. paid- oneyear in advance, . . 50
Clubs .of six or more sent to one address, to be
paid in‘ advance,
Single copies 4 cents. '

150

Advertising Rates.

One Square, oneinsertion,
“ two insertions,
‘ ‘ three insertions,
“ one'month,

two months, '

three months,

six months,

. one year—withlpaper
Two 8 uares, one year—With paper,
hell tlonal Square, per year,

- One xcolumn, one year,

One Column, one 0year,
. Fifteen dines, or 1 words,make a square. Fractiou-
al arts of a square char ed for as a whole. . ,
YearI 'advertisers have t e privilege of changing
the r advertisements once per month; Advertiser
meats chan ed oftener charged as transient. _ ' '

Yearly advert semonts payable 1st of January at July.

Yearly advertisers restr cted to the business contem-

% plated at the time of contract.

Cards, Resolutions, Funeral and all other Special N o- .
tlces 85 per cent. additional 011 the above.

‘1‘ These terms will be infiexrbly adhered to. .3

m-Qflwb-‘HHg

SSA?"

 

 

 

‘m:

BUSINESS 'nlascroav.

/\..

 

 

Norwalk Post Oflce.
MAILS CLOSE.

West 7.30 A. M.-—2.30 P. M.
East 8.30 A. M.—5.00 P. M.
Danbury & Norwalk Railroad 8.50 x M.
Westo
days, - ursdays and Saturdays, at 12 M.
ms DUE.

' West 9.10 A. M.—6.00 P. M.
East 8.20 A. M.——3.30 P. M.
‘ Danbury & Norwalk Railroad 8.00 A. M.

POST OFFICE HOURS.

From 7.00 A. M. to 8.00 P. M.
Cmms Oms'rnan, r. M.

, rs. A. nosnsass, as. .n,

. Homeopathic

. Phy'sician and Surgeon,
‘ Ofiice over 0. J. Grumau’s Store, '

NORWALK, CONN.
Office hours from 1 to 3 P. M.

 

 

New

llAllllW-ABE a. PAINT cross,

M a i n S t r e e t,
Opposite I. H. Campell’s Confectionery,

MARVIN & PROWIT'I', ‘

Wholesale and retail Dealers in Hardware,
Cutlery, Paints, Oils, Glass, Paper Hang-
ings, Window Shades, &c. . .

» ROOFING SLATE,

. from Vermont,
VERY CHEAP, i
At South Norwalk by ‘

 

H. E. WING. '

THE: ALLIS noose,

_ _ (formerly Union House,)
Opposite N. Y. & N. H. Depot. in Union-st,
New Haven, Conn.

L. P. ALLIS, Pnornm'ron.

JAMIS G. 35330-133,

SURGICAL AND MECHANICAL

'D ’3 N '1' I S ’1‘,
Office at Residence, East Avenue, NorWalk,
A ' ' ' Con "ecticut.

. Architecture.
--s:‘-xnrrn;! M,.“_§'1'9Nl,
‘ .. ; g ' , ‘xncmnc'r, .
Will furnish Plans, Specifications,-_Detail
Drawings, and superintend the erection-of
public and private buildings. Office in Mar-
fhle Block, Chapel-st, New Haven, Ct. tfb2
. no. F. BELDEN, ,NOrwalk, Conn.,M'au-
', ’ .;‘ ufacturer of Tin, Copper, and Sheet
"Iron Ware ;‘ and dealer in Stoves, Ranges,
Furnaces, Cutlery, Brittanni'a, Wooden and
‘Willow,.Ware,' Crocde'y; and a full assort-
jm’ent’cfHouse Keeping articles generally.

.0." s. noonwoon,
Edshiouabls Draper & Tailor,

, and . -
GENTLEMEN’S FURNISHING
..EMPOBIUM I
No. 3 Skiddy’s Block, Main-st, Norwalk, Ct

8;: .l. onus-man a. 00.,
" Wholesale and Retail Dealers in

Groceries, Flour, Feed, do,
. I,“ and 10 Main-st, Norwalk, Conn.

STNA‘ INSURANCE COMPANY,
_ - 0f Hartford, _
Incorporated in 1819, Charter Perpetual.

cmECapltol $1,000,000

Ibhhi‘d'ag‘sinst loss and damage by Fire,

' mancrns adapted to the hazard,and

- consistent with the laws of
compensation.

GEORGE B.‘ COWLES, Sole Agent

.113- : . _ , For Norwalk and vicinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

War Claims.

V BE undersigned, through the agency of
.l‘ reliable friends in Washington, is re-
pared to secure Bounty Money, Back ay,
eusious, and claims of all kinds against the
Government. Charge for collecting from
two to five per cent. Nocharge will be
made for advice given in relation to claims,
and no fee charged unless the claim is col-
lected. . JOSEPH w. WILSON.
[351."8- 22, 1862.

A. JACKSON 6!. 3.30.
_No. 1 Gazette Building.
WOULD respectfully announce to the

~' ; public and their old customers, that
they‘have recently made extensive additions
to their stock of goods. We are now prepar-
ed to offer an assortment not to be surpassed
in Fairfield Coun , in quality or price. We
would call partic or attention to our stock of
Watches, which is larger than ever before.—
Wehavc a fine lot of Ladies’ Swiss Watches,
in gold cases, at prices varying from. $20 to
3? , which we can recommend as rbein cor-
recttimevkeepers. Also,-Gentlemen’s atch-
etI, in silver and gold cases, at any price from
*5 ‘0 0.00. We buy of the best 1m orters in
ev York, and. altogether for an so that
put. facilities for sellmgcheap could not be
mile! Our stock of Jewelry, Silver and
- tau Wares was never better than at pres-
‘ 31.1% “<1 comprises all or the latest styles that
”enunufactured. A. JACKSON & BRO.

.- Carts andYWheelbarro'wa,
r'FOR 'Jhildren, sold by
C. 86 E. K. LOCKWOOD.& CO.

 

 

88 SSSSSSGS-RS

Bedding and Bedding Ridge, ’I‘ues- ‘

Man’s Work Shall Follow mm.
at .1. a. meTIEB.
We shape ourselves the joy or fear
Of which the coming life is made,
And fill our future's atmosphere ’
With sunshine or with shade.

The tissue of the life to be'

We weave with colors all our own,
And in the field of Destiny

We reap as we have sown.

Still shall the soul around it call

The shadows which it gathered here, ,
And, painted on the eternal wall,

The past shall re-appear.

For there we live our life again—
Or warmly touched, or coldly dim,

The pictures of the past remain :
Man’s work shall follow him.

«..>’

Waiting.

When he comes back, all glorious,
With the love-light in his eye,
From the battle-held victorious,
Who’ll be happier thenthan I 1
See, the big arm-chair is waiting,
~ Vacant still, in its old place—
Time! press quickly on the hours
Till I see his pleasant face! - »

 

 

He was too young, they told me,
To march against the foe;

Yet when his country needed aid
His mother bade him go !

’Twere meet slaves should tremble
Whom tyrants hold in thrall;

But my boy was a freeman born,
He went at Freedom’s call.

My small weak band would waver
The shortest sword to bear;

But he stands steady in the ranks,
And holds his musket there.

My faint heart would falter

. The battle-ground to see;

But his is strong in Freedom’s might,

Iie fights for her and me.

I am watching and waiting,
As mothers watch and wait
Whose sons are in the army now,
And it is growing late;
My life‘s past its morning,
It’s near sunset in the sky—
Oh! I long once more to clasp him i ;
In my armsbefore I die.

Yet farther oi! the army goes— . /

He will return no more,
Till our glorious flag is free again 3"

To float o’er sea and shore. .
Where‘er it waved in' days gone by,

Its folds again shall rest, , .
From the depths of the lowest valleys ,

To the highest mountain crest. '
Where’er his place may be, I'know /

He will fulfill his part. ’

Not until the war is over ‘

And he, my boy, mg darling, --~
- The pride of my old heart!

Shall we meet in fond embrace—
Time! press swiftly on the hours
Till I see his pleasant face!
Harper‘s

 

~l geuy.
,i ;

Where’s my Money ,
Ay, where‘s my money? That’s a pun} g query.
It vanishes. Yet neither in my purst

Nor pockets are there any holes. 'Tia ?
Inoomprehensible. I don’t disburse: .

For superfiuities. I wear plain clothes '

I seldom buy 1am tarts, preserves or honey;

And no one overlooks what debts he owes ~ -
More steadily than I. Where is my money? I l

I never tipple. Folks don’t see me staggering, , '
Sans cane and castor, in the public street.

I sport no, ornaments—not even a bague (ring)
’ I have a notion that my own two feet . . ,
Are much superior to a horse’s four,

So, never call a jarvey. , It is funny.

The longer I investigate, the more
Astounoedly I ask, Where is my money?

My money, mind you. Other people’s dollars
Cohere together nobly. Only mine

Cut one another. There’s that pink of scholars ‘
,V’on Doppeldronk, he' spends as much on wine _

Aston-everything. Yet he seems rich,

He laughs, and waxes plumperthan a funny,

‘ While I grow-slim as a divining-switch, . ‘

And search for gold as vainly. . Where’s my money
I can’t complain that editors don’t pay me;

I get for every sheet One Pound Sixteen;

And well I may! My articles are fiamy

Enough to blow up any magazine.

What's queerest in the affair though is, that at

The same time I miss nothing but the one. He '

That watches me will find I don’t lose hat,

Gloves, fogle, stick, or cloak. ’Tis always money.

Where I a rake I’d say so. Where one roysters
Beyond the rules, of course his cash must go.

’Tis true I regularly sup on oysters.

Cheese. brandy, and all that. But even so?

What signifies a ducat of a night i

“The barmaids,” you may fancy. No. The sunny
Loadstar that draws my tin is not the light

From their eyes anyhow. Where then’s my money?

However, apropos of eyes and maidens,

I own I do make presents to the sex—

Books, watches, trinkets, music too (not Hayden’s.)
Combs, shawls, veils, banners—things that might

perplex

A man to count. But still I gain by what
I lose in this way. ’Tis experience won—eh t

I think so. My acquaintances think not.
No matter. I grow tedious. Where's my money 2

From the German.

 

 

«Q»
If Every one has admired Parthenia’s
definition of Love to Ingomar :— '
"What love is: if thou wouldst be taught,
Thy heart must teach alone- , _
Two souls with but a single thought, ‘
Two hearts that beat as one !"

Some profane cynic, having no fear of
Cupid before his eyes, perpetrates the fol-
lowing villainous parody :—

“Love is a nighmsre with one foot,
Two children with one by],
Two turnips with a single root,
Two cabbage-heads as one i"
.>0.—-—

[1' The following extract says the Wor-
cester Spy, is taken from a letter dated near
Hagerstown, Maryland, October 2. It is
from an officer on Gen. Slocum’s staff :

“I have been quite busy parolingzp'rison-
ers. Among the wounded I met with 'some
noble men. They have given me tender

 

tion. Poor fellows! Said one to me in a
whisper, as he lay agonizing with a shatter-
thigh, ‘I was in the battle, but I didn’t fire a
shot at the old fla . I am a conscriptl'—
Ah! how many ave told me that same
story, disarming my heart of its fierce bit-
terness against the seeming foes of our im-
periled country.”

 

K...

anu HEDGES—HONEY Locusrs—We
have, among other varieties, suggested the
honey locust as a plant worthy of pretty
general trial for a farm hedge. It is a
strong-growing plant, forming, in its nat-
ural condition, a tree of good size, and
therefore, will require severe pruning to
form a hedge. Some have tried it and
failed, perhaps from to close planting.
It requires considerable room, and if grown
as close as the hawthorn or osage orange
will become choked. Dr. Warder recom-
mends it as the most promising hedge-
plaut we have; and Wm. Reid, Elizabeth-
town, New Jersey, who has many fine

 

trial, that it is more easily kept and bet-
ter adapted for a farm fence than any
that has been used. Those, however, who
expect to make a good hedge in a few
years of this or any other plant that we
are acquainted with wlll be sorely disa-

 

pointed.—-Ruml New Yorker.

experiences; I try to direct them to consola- .

hedges, is satisfied, after twenty-five years '

mummy MARVIN.

When the British and tories attacked
New London, Connecticut, in 17—, and
set a price on the head of Gov. Griswold,
the latter fled to the town of L ,
where his cousin, Mrs. Marvin, hid him,
for some days, in a secluded farm house.

 

' But at length the subtle foe discovered

his retreat, and one sunny afternoon in
May, he was routed from his hiding place
by the tidings that a band of horSemeu
were approaching to capture him. '
His only chance of escape was to reach
the mouthof a little creek which emptied

.itself into the Connecticut River, 'just

abOve the entrance of the lattcr'into

- Long Island Sound. There he had a
‘ boat stationed, with two faithful attend-

ants hidden beneath the high banks of
the creek. '_The distanbe from the farm
house to the boat was two miles by the

path acrosszthe farmer’s orchards would
bring him-to the road only a mile from
the _boat,.an,d save a quarter’s "lengthof
his fearful ruujfor life; ’ ~ ,
Just where the narrow path. fr0m_ the
orchard opened into the road, Hetty
Marvin sat with her doy Towser.

Thus sat Hetty Marvin, the young
daughter of Gov. Griswold’s cousin, when
her hunted friend sprang past her into
the road, to escgpe bis pursuers. ‘Hetty
was a timid child of about twelve years ;
yet thoughtful and wise beyond many of
her elders. She was frightened by the
headlong haste with which the Governor
rushed across the meadow. But she
quickly comprehended the scene,"_.aud in-

‘U-I .stautly quieted her faithful Towser, who,

though a friend of the family? guest,
thought it becoming to bark loudly-at
his hurried steps.

Her’wise forethought arrested the Gov-
ernor’s notice and suggested a scheme to
deludc his pursuers. “Hetty,” he said,
earnestly, “I am flying for my life, and
unless I can reach my boat; before‘I am
overtaken, I am a lost ma'n.‘ Yoirsee
the road forks here. Now I want to
run down this Way to the river. "But
you must tell. the rascals who are chasing
me that I have gone up the road to catch.
the mall wagon, which will soon be along
you'kuow. Then they will turn off the
other way.” ‘

—. “Oh, cousin” said the little girl. in an,

agony of distress, “I cannot tell a;lie; in-
deed I cannot. Why did you ftell m
which way you werc'golngl" "
“Hetty, my'child, surely youiwould.

.uot‘betray me ‘to my death. Harkl,

they are coming; I hear the click of their,

' . .horses’ feet. Oh! Hetty, tell them-:17.

have gone: up the road instead of down;
and heaven will bless you.” , .
. "Heaven never blessed those. who.
speak falsely, cousin. But I will not tell
them which way you go, even if they
kill me; so run quickly as possible.”
“It’s no use; unless’I can deceive them,
I am a dead- mau.” . '
“Cousin, cousin, hide under my web 'of
cloth; they’d never think of looking here
for you. Come, get down as swift as
you can, and I’ll cover you, and-stand
Sprinkliug' my linen." , ' ,
"‘It’s my only chance, child; I’ll get
down as you say.” Andsuitiug the ac-
tion‘ to the word, the'Governor, was soon,
hidden under the ample folds of the cloth.
Angry that their expected prey had
escaped from the house where they hoped
to secure him, the six mounted tories,
headed by a British ofllc‘sr, dashed along
theroad in swift pursuit. At sight of
the little girl in the meadow, the leader
of the party paused. '
“Child,” he said sternly, “have you
seen a man running away hereabouts?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Betty, trembling
and blushing.
“Which way did he go?”
“I promised not to tell, sir.”
“But you must or take the conse-

quences.”
“I said I wouldn’t tell' if you killed

me,” sobbed the frightened girl.

“I’ll have it out of her," exclaimed the
furious officer, with an oath.

“Let me speak to her,” said history
guide; "I know the child, I believe.—
‘Isn’t your name Hetty Marvin?” he
asked, pleasantly. ' '.

“Yes, sir.” . .

“And this man who ran by you a few
minutes ago was your mother’s cocain,
wasn’t be?”

“Yes, sir, he was.”

“Well, we are friends of his. What
didhe say to you when he came along?”

“He—he told inc—that he was flying
for his life.” -

“Just so, Hetty; thatwas very. true.
I hope he won’t have to fly far. Where
was he going to try to hide? You see I
could help him if I knew his plans.”

Now Hetty was not a whit deceived
by this smooth speech, so she‘answered
her questioner candidly : “My cousin
said that he was going down this way to
the river, where he had ‘a boat; and he
wanted me to tell the men that were
chasinghim, that he had gone the other
way to catch th ' ' ail Wagon.”

“Why didn’t you. do as be bid you,
then, when I asked where he had gone?”
thundered’th‘e oficer, fiercely. ' 1' '

“learn not tell a lie, air,” was the
tearfulanswerh ' . .

.“Hdtty,” 1 again began the smooth-
tongued _tor'y~,,.“vou are p nice child—=—
Everybodykuov‘vs you-are a girlr‘of-‘truth;
What did your 0008"] say when you told

 

him you couldn’t tell a falsehood?”

usual traveled road. But a little sheep- '

- to the river.

quiet where his little cousin had hidden

.in the hurry of departure, he had left;

:Goveruor quickly made his way to the? .
.ihalfemil'e. stretch—’-Saudy to hold the

family iu'a secure home, he named his;
infant daughter, which had been born in,

charm can now be spelled backwards. If

. finally ceased its virulence only because:

. . but partially concealed disuuionists makes I

' life, and are heard of no more. Why?

" world; and none were blest by them,

“He said .he shouldn’t think I’d betray
him to his death." -

“And then you promised him that you
wouldn’t tell which way he went, if . you
was killed foritf”, ‘ 7

“Yes, sir.” ' -

“That was a brave speech; and So, I
suppose, be thanked you for it, and-ran
down the road asqnicklv as possiblt?”

“I promised not to tell where he went,
sir.” , j ‘

“Oh! yes, I forgot. Well, tell us his
last w0rds, and We won’t trouble you any
more.”

“His last words were: ‘It’s my only
chance, child, and I’ll get down as you.
say.’ ” And overcome by the fright, and.
the sense of her kinsman’s danger should
they rightfully interpret-the- language
which she had reported, shesobbed aloud,
and hid her facefrom sight. ,

Her tor-mentors did not stay any longer
to soothe or question her. They had
got,- as they supposed, the information
they wanted, and pushed rapidly 0n down.
Now the Governor had ar-i
ranged a signal with his boatmen, that a
white cloth by day, or a light in the
night displayed from the attic window of
his hiding-place, which was just visible at
the mouth of the creek, should inform
them- if he were in trouble, and put them
uponthe alert to help him." As soon,
therefore, as he started for his cousin’s}
the signal floated from the window to
warn them; And when they saw the.
pursuiugparty dash madly down towards
the river, and recognized the British uni;-
form of the leader, they pulled swiftly
out to sea. The horsemen‘reached the
shore only in Season to see the boat, with
two men in it, nearly out of sight, and
supposing their destined prey had es;
caped, relinquished the pursuit. .Meah-tf
while, the hunted victim lay safe and

hini, untll'the time came for her to re-
turn to the house for supper. Then he
bade her go as usual to her home, telling;
her to ask her mother to place the signal
lamp,as soon as it grew dark, , in'thd
window for the boatmcn, and to send him:
there some supper, with his valise, Which;

behind.’ ,

The signal recalled the boat, which
after twilight had ventured insightpf
the shore and the farmhouse; and the:

riverin safety. When he rejoined his:

bls'absence, "Hetty Marvin,” that he:
might be 'doin reminded of the little.
cousin who had saved his life.

Student Mid Schoolmale.
9......— .
n-The Times accuses us of being Abe--
litiouists.” This term was formerly used
with effect to denote all that was extreme‘
in opinion and visionary in politics. ' But“
the cannon at FortSumter, the continued
persistence of the South in rebellion, the
hundreds of thousands of our bravecouui
trymen lying in their graves, the millions’ .
of treasure spent, the grief of widows and;
‘thedesolatidh of homes, have changed all.
that. That wand has lost its power; that.

 

Abraham Lincoln, GenMcClellan, Gen.
Hooker, Gen. John Cochrane Gen Mc-
Clernand, Gen. Burnside, Gov. Tod, Gov.
Sprague,,Gov. Pisrpout, Gen. Busteed,
Andrew Johnson, a large majority of the
Union army, are abolitionists because
they believe that every means should be
employed to preserve the nation, then we
are abolitionists.
a paper that denounced the first procla-
mation calling for men to resist the trai»
tors that were seeking our lives, that has
been an open advocate. of the right of the
South to secede, that came very near
being mobbed for such‘sentiments, that

its‘editors feared the dungeons ,oijort
LaFayette, if being anything, in short,

as guilty of abolitionism, then we accept
the name with all the stigma that such a.
paper as, the Hartford Times can afiix
upoudecent mcn. ' '

. . Hartford (Dem) Post.

 

0‘.»

 

LIVE roa Sonar-ulna —Thousands of men '
breathe, move, and; pass off the stage of ;

They do not a particle of good to the

none could point to them as the inst ru-
ment of their redemption ; not a line they
wrote, not a word they spoke could i be
recalled and so they perished—their light
went out in darkness, and they were not
remembered more than the insects of yes-
terday. Will you thus live and die, 0
man immortal! Live for something-—
Do good, and leave behind you a monu-
ment of virtue that the storms of time
can never destroy. Write your name by
kindness, love, and mercy, on the hearts
of thousands you come in contact. with
year by year, and you will never be for-
gotten. 'No" your name, your deeds will
be as legible on the hearts you leave be-
hin d, as the stas on the brow of evening.
Good deeds will shine as bright on the
earthns the stars in-heavsn. '
Q»
Snusan Apnea—Professor Silliman,
of New Haven, recently closed a Smithsonian
lecture by, giving the following sensible advice
to ouug men :—“If, therefore, you wish for
a c our mind and strong muscles, and quiet
nerves, andloug life, and power vprolon
in old age, permit me to say, although I am
not giving a temperance lecture, avoid all
drinks above ‘Water and mild infusions of
that fluid, tobaCco,‘ opium; and everything
else that disturbs the moral state of' the sys-
tem; rely upon nutritious food,.aud mild, di-
luted drinks, of which waiter is the base, and
you will need nothing beyond these thin
except rest, and due moral; regulations of iIl
your powers, ‘to give. you [longhappy and
useful llvos‘ and a serene evening at the close.
,.,'., 1-. "I ..
13-! Can an spell ‘the word'Saloonf'waa
1asked of a ockney, by a 'Philudelphian.‘
“Certainly,” said the Londoner, with a look
of triumph; “there’s a hose, and a hay, and a

 

 

' ofi‘ord it.

If being anything but ‘

‘ A South Carolina- Hog Race.
We had passed through'a ‘deuse’ forest of
pines, but were emer ing-into a “bottom
country,” _;where‘,some; of'th'e'fiuest decidi-

. ,ous trees, then brown and leafless, but

bearing promiseof the opening beauty of
spring, reared, along with ' the 'unfading
evergreen, their tall stems in the air.'The
'llve o'ak, the sycamore, the Spanish mul-

gaily festooned with wreaths of the white
and yellow-jessamine, the woodbine and
the cypre'ss'moss, and beefing here and
there a’ bequet‘ of the mistletoe, with its
deep green and glossy leaves upturned to
the sun—flung their broad .arms over the
road, forming an archway grander and
more beautiful than any the hand of man
ever wove for the greatest hero the world
ever worshiped. '

The woods were free from underbrush
and a coarse wiry grass, unfit for fodder
and scattered through them in detached
patches, was the only vegetation vlslble.
The ground was mainly covered with the:
leaves and burrs of the pine.

We passed great numbers of swine,
feeding on these burrs, and now and
then a horned animal browsing on the
cypress-mosswhere it hung low on trees. »
I observed thatuearly all the sWine were '
marked, though they seemed too wild to
have ever seen] an owner or a. human
habitationd They were long, lean, slab-
deer, and-bearingzno sort of resemblance
to .thevordiuary hog, except in the snout,
and that feature was so much longer and
Sharper than the ' northern swine, that I
doubt if Agassiz would class the two as
one species. However, they have their
uses—They make excellent bacon, and
are “death on snakes.” Ireland itself is
not more free from the serpentine race

than are the districts frequented by these

long-nosed quadrupeds.

“We call them Carolina race-horses,”
said the colonel, as he finished an account
of their peculiarities. 1

. "Racehorses! Why, are they fleet of

' foot?

“Fleet as deer. I’d match one against
an ordinary horse, at any time.”
“Come, my friend, you’re practising on
my ignorance of natural history.”
“Not abit of it. See! there’s a good
specimepjonder. .If we can get him into

the road, and fairly started, I’ll bet you

a dollar he’ll beat .Sandy’s mare on a

stakes and havetthe winnings.”

“Well, agreed,” I said, laughing, “and
I’ll give the pig ten rods the start.”

_ “No,” replied the colonel, .“you can’t
He’ll have, to start ahead, but
you’ll need that in the count. Come,

Sandy, will you go in for the pile?" '

I’m not sure that the native would not
have ruu'a race with old Nicholas him-
self, for the sake of so much money. To
him it was avast sum; and as he thought
of. it, his. eyes struck small sparks, and
his: enormous beard and mousthches vi-
brated With somethiug‘that faintly resem-
bledla laugh. Replying to the question,
he said-'—

“Kiuder rekon I wull, cuuuel;how-
somdever, I keeps the stakes, ouy how.”

“Of cburse,” said the planter; but be
honest—win if you can.” I, '

Sandy halted his horse in the road,
while the planter and I took to the woods
on either side of the way. The colonel
soon bianceuvred to separate the selected
animal from the rest of the herd, and
withOut much difficulty got him‘into the
road, where, by closing down on each
flank, we kept him till he and Sandy
were fairly under way. - - V

“He’ll keep to the road when once
started,” said the colonel, laughing; and
he’ll show you 'some of the talleso running
you ever saw in your life.”

Away they went. At first the pig,
seeming not exactly tocomprehend the
programme, centered of at a leisurely

A pace, though he held his own. Soon,

however, be cast an eye behind him—
_halted a moment to collect his thoughts
and. reconnoitxe—and then, lowering his
head, and elevating his tail, put forth all
his speed. . And such speed! Talk 'of a
deer, ths'wind, or a steam engine—they
are not to'he compared with it. Nothing
in natural ever saw run—except it may
be a Southern tornado or a Sixth Ward
politician—could hope to distance that
pig. He gained on the horse at every
step, and Soon it was‘evident that my
dollarwas gone! V . .

“In forte shilling in for a pound,” is an
old adage-40, turning to 'the colonel, I
said as intelligibly as my horse's” rapid
pace and my excited risi'bilities would
allow-F" ' ,

“I See I’ve lost, but I’ll go another
dollar that you can’t beat-the pig!” '

“No, sir!” the colonel-got out in the
breaks of hislaugldug‘pxplosions; "you
can’thedgejme in that'manner. .I’ll, go
a dollar that you .can’t do it, and your
mareisthe fastest on the road. She won
me a thousand not a monthru'go.” . .

- “Well, I’ll do it'—'Sau'dy to-have the
stakes.”‘ ' ' .y

‘ “Agreed,” said the colonel, and away
we weut. , » . A _

The swinish racer was about- a hundred
yards ahead when I gave the mere the
reins and told her to go on. And she did
,go, ,_She flew againstthe wind with a
motion so rapid' that my face, as it clove.
the air, felt as if cutting its way through

 

 

hell, and two hoes and a hen.

Lu solid body, and the trees, as we passed,

berry, the holly, and the ' persimmon—1

4 ‘ seemed ,stmér ;w1thpemc, and, running

for dear life 'iuthe opposite direction.

For-.a few moments 'I thought the
more Was gaining,'a’nd I turned to the
colonel witha'n excl-taut look. ,f '

“Don’t shout till _you}win, my- boy. ” he
called out from thedistancewhere l was
fast leaving him and Sandy. .

I :didnot sh0ut,for'?spitetof all my
efi'orts,?'ithe"space' between me and the
pig seemed to widen. Yet I kept on, de-
termined to win till, at the end of a short
half mile, we reached the Wacammaw—
the swine still a hundred yards ahead!
There hispigshipihalte'd, turned coolly
around, eyed me for smomenmhen with
a quiet, deliberate trot, turned on’ into
the’ nods—Among the Pines.

Autumnal Tints.

* * *- But of much more importance
than a knowledge of the names and dis-
tinctibns of color is the joyaud exhilara-
tion which these colored leaves excite.
Already these brilliant trees throughout
the street, without any more variety, are
at least equal to an annual festival and
holiday, or a week 0f each. These are
cheap and innocent gala-days, celebrated
by one and all without the aid of com}
mittees or marshals, such a show as may
safely be licensed, not ‘ttractiug gami-
blers or rumsellers, nor requiring any s'peo
cialpolice to keep the peace. And poor
indeed must be that New England vi],-
lage’s October which has not the‘ Maple
in its streets. This October festival costs
no powder, uor ringing of-bells, but every
tree is, a living liberty-pole on which a
thousand bright flags are waving. V i
No wonder that we must have our uni
nual Cattle-showand Fall training, and
perhaps Cornwallis, our September Courts
and the like. Nature herself holds her.
annual fair in October, not only in the
streets, but in every hollow and on everyé
hill-side. When lately we looked into:
that Red-Maple swamp all a blaze, where:
the trees where clothed in their vesturea:
of most dazzling tints, did it not suggest?
a thousand gypsies beneath--a race caps-'3
bio of wild delight—or even the fabled;
fawns, satyrs, and wood-nymphs come?
back to earth? Or was it only a con-?
gregatiou of wearied wood-choppers, or",
of proprietors come to inspect their lots,‘
that we thought of? ,Or, earlier. still,‘
when we paddledon the river through?

 

that fine-grained September air, did there:
not appear to be something new going on

under the sparkling surface (“he stream,
a shaking of props, at least, so that we;
made haste in order to be up in time?

'Did not the rows of yellowing willows:

and button-bushes on each side seem like?
rows of booths, under which, perhaps,_
some fluviatile egg-pop, equallw ‘yellowf,§
was efl'ervesciugf' Did not all these 'sug-f
gest that man’s Spirits should rise as high
as Nature’séshou'ld hang out their flag, ‘2
and'the routine of his life be interrupted:t
byan' analogous expression of joy and hi-:
larity? - A i

[No annual training or master of 801-,
diery, no celebration with its scarfs and:

banners, could import into the town a ;

hundredth part of the annual splendor
of our October. We have only to set

the trees, or let thl m stand, and Nature '

will find the colored drapery—flags of all
her nations, some of whose private sig-
nals hardly the botanist can read—v-while '
we walk under the triumphs! arches of
the Elms. Leave it to Nature to appoint ,
the days, whether the same as in neighbor-
ing States or not, and let the clergy read
her proclamations, if they can understand
them. Behold what a drapery is her
Woodbine flag! What public-spirited
merchant, think you, has contributed this
part of the show? There is no haudsomer
shingling and paint than this vine, at pre-
sent covering a whole side of some houses.
I do not believe that the Ivy never sear is
comparable to it. No wonder it has been
extensively introduced into London. Let
us have agood many Maples and Hicko-
ries and Scarlet Oaks, then, I say. Blaze
away! Shall that dirty roll of hunting
lathe-gun house be all the colors a vil-
lags can» display? A village is not com-
plete, unless it have these trees to mark
the ‘sensou in it. They are important,
like the t0wn-clock. A village that has
them not will not be found to work Well.
It has a screw loose, an essential part is
wanting. Let us have Willows for spring,
Elms for summer, Maples and Walnuts
and Tupeloes for autumn, Evergreens for
winter, and Oaks for all seasons. What
is ,agallery in a house to a gallery in the
streets, which every market-mun rides
through, ,whether he will or not? Of
course, there is ”not a picture-gallery in
the country which would be worth so
much to uses is the western view at sun-

,set under the Elms of our main street.

They are the frame to a picture which is
daily painted behind them: An avenue
of Elms as large as our largest, and three
miles long, would seem to lead 'to some,
admirable place, though. only, C . . -
were at the end of it. - .

A. village needs these» innocent stimu.
lants of ‘ bright and'cheéring prospectsto
'keep of melancholy and superstition.
Show me two villages. one embowered in
trees and blazing with all: the. glories of
October; the others. merely trivial and
treeless waste, or with only a ‘single tree

 

starved and bigoted religiouists and the

 

most desperate drinkers. Every wash-

or't'wo for suicides; and I shall be sure;
ithat the latter will be' found the most

 

tub and milk-can and gravestone will be
exposed. The inhabitants will disappear
abruptly behind their barns and houses,
like desert Arabs amidvtheir rocks,‘and§ I
shall look to see spears intheir hands.
They will ‘be ready to accept the most
barren and forlorn doctrine—as that the
world is speedily coming to tin-end.- 01'
has already got to it, or that they them-
selves are turned wrong side outward.
They will perchance crack their dry
joints at one another, and call it aspirit-
no] communication. Atlantic Monthly.

 

. 0
Romantic Success of a Yankee
Sailor. .

Two or three years since, Frederick
Ward, mate of u coasting vessel, arrived
at Shunghae, China,'and by indomitable
pluck, has succeeded in becoming a, Chi-
nese Mandarin, and bringing things to
rights in China—by contract. A cor-
respondent of the New York Herald
chronicles his exploits as follows:—

The rebels were pinching Shanghae
sadly, and the Imperialists couldn’t help
themselves.

Thirty miles or So up the Norsuug
river was a city called Soonkong, a very
strong city, like all Chinese cities of III]?
portauce, surrounded with high stone
walls, outside of which was a deep ditch
always filled with water.
sore place, and the rebels might be com-
ing out some fine day and make a descent
upon Shanghae. The Imperialists could
not take the city; it was beyond their
abilities, and they would pay a handsome
price to get it. So Ward entered into a
contract with them, and promised to
take the city for forty thousand taels.
He was taken up, and a little while after
he, in company with eighty Mauilamen,
surprised the city of seven thousand
rebels, took it by storm, and then very
quietly pocketed his forty thousand taels,
receiving hardly a scratch in the eu-

counter.
This was all very well; but the fellow’s

blood was up, and he wanted to take
another city some thirty miles beyond
Soonkong, where the rebels had retired
and entrenched themselves more strongly
than before. The Toutichiu chiuued him
exceedingly, and told him to- go in. He
did go in, or, at least as far as the walls,
and fell, shot in three places. He did not
die, however—his ~constitution was too
strong for that—but ' fell back upon
Shanghae, to recover from;_his wounds.
and pl a another campaign. He was out
again In a few weeks, but with a hole in
the roof of his mouth of the size of a
cherry stone, which gave a sort of nasal
twang to his speech. Meanwhile the.
gazettes came down from Pekin,_ an-:
uouncing his promotion to .the rank of,
Colonel. He became a Chinese subject,
married a Chinese woman of the small
footed kind—the wOrst thing he ever did
-—und was created a mandarin of the:
blue button. - ,

The solitary paper of Shanghae, em-
bodying the English sentiment of they
place, couldn‘t say hard things enough
about the Colonel. He was a “filibuster,
condemned by the President of the Uni-
ted States.” He was a low American
rowdy, and didn’t deserve the counte-
nance of any respectable person. In spite
of it all, however, desertions from the
English navy and army, as well as the
police force of the settlement, were of
daily occurrence, and the military autho-
rities interfered. One day Colonel Ward
received a polite invitation to dinner on
board of her Majesty’s steamer Urgent,
Captain Hire. Putting perfect faith in
the invitation, and uususpicions of under-
handed measures, the Col. went aboard
at the time appointed, was seized by
order of the Captain, and put in irons.
News of the occurrenCe spread rapidly
through the settlement. Americans,
whether they sympathized with Ward in
his acts or not, were indignant at the
mean and dastardly manner of his arrest.
They protested against it, and even
threatened to use force in his liberation.
Matters became so hot that Capt. Hire
was compelled to forego the further grat-
ification of‘ his spite against Americans
in the person of Ward, and upon the lat-
ter swearing to the fact of his being a
Chinese subject, he was discharged.

By and by down came the rebels again,
making furious demonstrations against
Shanghae. The paper announced in its
weekly issue, in the largest type, that “a
typhoon of blood was at hand.” Even
English c0ckucys enrolled themselves into
a volunteer force and underwent the pe-
nance of nightly patrolling the settle-
ment with guns upon their shoulders.
The rebels were all the time coming, and
all the time they didn’t come. Big Eng-
glish hougs wrote down to Hong Kong
for naval assistance, and up came the
Admiral to see what the row was ' He
went up to Soonkong in the Coromnndcl,
and was much astonished. He found an
army of Chinamcn there, dressed in for-
eign costume, carrying fol-eign arms, and

 

' well drilled ,in the evolutions of foreign

tactics. He found foreign officers to each
each company, and he found the great
mover of it all, Colonel Ward. Now Ad-
miral Hope is as much different from
most Englishmen as it is possible for an
EngliSIlman to be different from an Eng-
glishman. Heliked Word as soon as he
became acquainted with him; he liked
him for his pluck, he liked him for his
consistency, and so he encouraged him.
So the French Admiral and the English

 

This was a .

Admiral and the Colonel put their heads
together and planned out a campmgu ,
against the rebels. Ward’s Chinsmeu
were placed alongside the English and
French forces, and they didn’t disgrace
themselves.~ They fought as well as any
troops can fight, showing that good
'soldiers can be made even of Chinamen.

When Admiral Hope commenced to
support 001. Ward, the English resi.
dents generally went with him. Import.
ant nobodies, who had seen hard “1-.
vice at Lucknow and Delhi, and knew
it all and couldn’t be told anything,
sufi'ered their noses to drop, and were
even highly honored when Col Ward
was so gracious as to shake hands with
them. ' Well, the allied forces cleaned
the rebels out pretty effectually, new; of
which reached 'Pekin, and shortly came
the gazettes announcing that ,Ward was
promoted to the rank of General, and
had his button raised another grade.

Ward landed in Shanghae with a suit
of clothes and six Mexican dollars. He
is now, at a moderate computation,
worth as many hundred thousand. Still
he exposes himself in action as much as
ever, and seems to have the most utter
contempt of life. He does not ask even
a Chinamau to go' into any danger he
wOuld not willingly face himself. He
has the most sanguine ideas about crush-
ing the rebellion in China, albeit his
progress thus far has not been much to
boast off. He has ofi'sred Prince Kong
to do it for ten millions of dollars, and
the Prince asserts that such a reward
would be insignificant in comparison
with the extent of the labor. He is now
quietly drilling his new recruits and swell-
ing his army daily, preparing for the
next coming down of the rebels, which
will ensue upon the approach of winter.
Dozens are applying every day to join
him—members of the police force, ma-
rines and sailors from the men-of-war and
the shipping; but he is very judicious in
taking them into his employ. He has,
now some thirty or forty European 0&-
cers under him, and has his headquarters
at Soonkong, where the strictest diseio
pline is enforced.

So far as personal appearan’ce goes,
Ward is the very idea! of a hero. His
face now, from much exposure, is pretty
well broozed, but is naturally very pale,
and full and round. His hair is of the,
deepest black, and he wears it falling in
curls to his shoulders; and a slight impe-
rial aifd mustache serve to make the pole
of his face more noticeable. His person
is slight. but all muscle. Although not
above five feet in height, and with a
build exceedingly diminutive. he has bSen
knOwn‘ to whip: half a dozen six footers .
with an eaée and rapidity truly astonishé
ing._ He wears a blue cont, similar to
that in the United States service, is but-
toned close to his chin; high riding boots,
white pants and a whip in' his hand,
which he is always striking his boots
with, finish the picture of one of the
most suCcessful men of the day.

Hanna's PLEASEN'I‘ VALLEY, }
Monday evening, Oct. 13th.

The newa of the success of Stuart’s
cavalry raid into Pennsylvania, and in
the rear-o! this army has occasioned no
unnecessary excitement among the troops.
When it takes into consideration that
the river is made fordable by a low stage
of water at so many points and that the
army of the Potomac has a line of pick-
ets extending from Cumberland to Wash-
ington, 150 miles, it makes it an easy
matter for a large rebel force of cavalry
to penetrate it.

The moment the fact that the rebels
has crossed the river at McCoy’s Ferry
became known, every exertion was made
to prevent their escape which was deem-
ed uecessary. -

Orders were sent to different command-
ers to move and occupy the positions as-
signed them. Unfortunately at this par-
ticular time a majority of the cavalry
force was absent on important duty, at
too great a distance to be of any use in
following Stuart. '
. On occasions of this kind infantry, not
being able to make a lengthy march, are
of no particul use except in guarding
fords near at hand.

When Stuart crossed at McCoy’s Fer.
ry he had fresh horses, they having been
sent to that point in advance. His
movements after crossing the Potomac
were rather hid. He marched his force
92 miles in 25 hours.

To'accomplish this he had the fresh
horses taken fr0m citizens of Pennsylva-
nia. From the time Gen. Pleasanton,
commandinga brigade of cavalry and
one battery, left this camp until he came
up with the rebels at the mouth of the
Monocacy, at 9 o’clock yesterday morn-
ing, he had marched 78 miles within 24
hours without-a change of horses or rest.

At that point thle attempting to
cross the river into Virginia, the rebels
were reached and nine of their men were
taken prisoners. The total loss on our
side Was one man wounded. Stuart find-
ing himself unable to cross here. mOVed
three milesiurther ,(lowu the l'lVel‘ to
VVhite’leurd, where he made good his
escape. _

Ge‘n. PIcasuaton, while pursuing .h m
IOSK the use m Ins gobs, 'he norm-s gm 1);

_____..<.»*———
Not So Astonishing.

out fl‘ull] CXilallSllUll. I» is w!“ v. .. “at
the marches bull! of t x r. w! rum rv
and our own are um Ill Manama. ry
Oil record, ulld bllc) snow mlm‘i i-mulu-

sively'the pelcct folly of uuemptzng to
pursue cavalry w-Ith' infantry.
————.o<..s
fi‘A correspondent 0! the Detroit Ad
vex-User, says that a uecoctmn of Outs Is
infallible for the cure of measles. Take
a pint of oatsand put them into a_ tight
vessel; pour on boiliug Water, and let It
stand a short time; then gm: it to- the
sick person to drink. It must be pretty
warm. In fifteen minutes you Will see a

 

 

change for the better.

Loading scan from the Connecticut Digital Archive…
100% · drag to pan, double-click to zoom
page scan