The Democratic Sentinel, 1852-12-08

CRATIC

OHIO, WEDNESDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 8, 1852.

For the Sentinel.

Thoughts on Seeing an Egyptian Mummy.

What is the object now before my sight, Robed in the sable hue of starless night; All faded yet not crumbling down to dust, Was it ever human - or is it a beast? O thou! was once the gayest of the gay, A spirit beamed in it with cheerful ray; 'Twas once a Princes on the Theban throne; Now the soul is gone - now 'tis clay alone. Those eyes now sealed - once beamed with cheerful light, Those hands now stiff and palsied to the sight, Perhaps once swayed the powerful arm of state, And done deeds to be ranked among the great. Those lips all withered by the hand of time, Once moved with gentle, grateful, pleasing smile; Once encircled forth delightful music sweet, Once did some youthful lover kindly greet. Those limbs once strung to motion quick and gay, Are now unstrung, and nought but palsied clay; Once clothed in robes of majesty and might, Now in the noon of deaths dark gloomy night. 'Mid tears and sighs thou fell before death's stroke, Perhaps thy death some fondling's heart once broke But long ere this they all have sunk to rest, And in immortal robes of being dwel'd. Once placed among the royal mighty dead In sealed sarcophagus, from foot to head; Now broken is thy silent slumbering cell, Yet on thee death still holds his gloomy spell. A nation gazes on thy lifeless form,[?] Wilt thou revive, when death shall reign no more; [?] hosts of thousands who have gone before, Thy body laid in solemn silence by, Is now beneath a far, far western sky. Two thousand rolling years have glided by, Since lifes warm channel though, thy heart was dry, Yea more, for 'tis a longer lapse of time Since Thebes glory flourished on the Rhine. Though thou hast been with death for ages long, Though now thou art the subject of my song, A soul thou hast, on that eternal stream Of endless Being. O! 'tis not a dream. But true the time, the appointed time will be, When thou from death's embrace shall yet go free; Thy soul shall come from the eternal state, And this dry lifeless body animate. Then if in time, by faith washed in his blood, If saved by grace from sins overwhelming flood, New life and vigor shalt thou wear again, And an eternal world of bliss obtain. This body shall ascend to climes on high, From which corroding cares forever fly; All pure and lovely, join in sweetest song, With that bright robed, eternal blood washed throng. THOMPSONVILLE, HARRISON CO., O., NOV. 30th.

From the Southern Literary Gazette.

UNDER THE STUMP, Or, Sampson Kepper's Courtship.

ANY shrewd observer of men and manners could have immortalized his name in Grass- borough, by explaining, clearly and satis- factorily, the reason why Mr. Sampson Kep- per remained a bachelor at five score.

The facts of the case are as follows: - Sampson Kepper, Esq., at five and twenty, was looked upon as a prize by all the mar- riageable young ladies in Grassborough. - Possessed of good looks and an excellent farm, agreeable manners, and a large, com- fortable house, a pair of whiskers and two pair oxen. Sampson could have "taken his pick" among the maidens of Grassborough, any of whom would have been delighted with his preference. He was a kind-hear- ted fellow, too - was Sampson Kepper, and I have often heard him described, as hav- ing a distinguishing fondness for gooseber- ry pies, nice children, fine horses, and ladies generally.

At this delightful age - five and twenty! Sampson did actually betray an inclination for connubial happiness. He commenced paying his addresses to the amiable Miss Lucretia Lane, a worthy and pretty young lady, who was said by every body - with the exception of a multitude of rival beauties - would make him an excellent wife.

Now Sampson waited on Lucretia - "cour- ted her," as Grassborough gossips termed it, for five years, and it was well known to Sampson's friends that more than forty times during that period he was on the point of offering her his hand. But Sampson did not make such an offer for reasons - which Grassborough would have been glad to know.

The Lanes lost patience with the heir of the house of Kepper. Lucretia, they said, was at his disposal. At the end of that long time, convinced of the impossibility of living without her, he called upon her one Sunday night, as in former days. To his astonish- ment he found her occupying the small par- lor in company with Mr. Brooks, a wealthy widower of thirty-five. Mr. Brooks and Lucretia sat together in the chimney corner- and Sampson, with his surtout on, sank in, to the seat opposite.

"Fine evening," said Sampson, in an un- steady voice.

"Nay," said Lucretia, changing color rap- idly and looking at the beech-log.

It was snowing and blowing outside, at a frightful rate.

The widower settled his chin in his neck- cloth, with a pompous air, and tried to look unconcerned. Lucretia coughed and blush- ed, and moved about in her chair, as if she had eaten something which distressed her; while Mr. Kepper glanced uneasily from his hat to the door, and played with his thumbs, like any timid young man, who intended to go to a champagne supper, should penetrate the sanctimonious silence of a Quaker meeting, by mistake.

"Ahem! Thought I'd just look in, and see how you were," observed Sampson, af- ter a long pause, turning on his chair, and crossing his legs with an attempt to appear at ease.

"Thank you - hope you will - you'll come again!" faltered Lucretia.

And not another word was spoken for half an hour. At length Sampson, after a series of preliminary "ahems," and anxious glances at his hat, summoned courage to say -

"Guess I'll be going".

"What's your hurry?" asked Lucretia, in a feeble tone.

"Nothing particular - guess though I'd better be going. Good night."

"Good night, if you must go."

Stumbling over a chair in his endeavors to appear unconcerned, and buttoning the right-hand lappel of his dress-coat - an error Our Trip to Cincinnati.

We promised our readers in our last number, that we should probably this week give some account of our late trip to Cincinnati. We now fulfil that promise.

On Tuesday, the 16th ult., we started on our journey. We left Cadiz early in the morning, in company with some 2 or three of our fellow-citizens, who were going to Wheeling. There was nothing new or attractive on the road between this and Wheeling, except the Plank Road, which we should judge had been completed some ten or twelve miles altogether. This road is excellent, with but one exception, and that is, that the plank are not long enough.

We arrived in Wheeling about 2 o'clock P. M., and "put up" at the Beymer House. We did not see the face of our old friend Walker, the former landlord, and upon enquiry we found that he had departed this life some two weeks previous to that time. Mr. Walker was a clever man, and a good landlord, and his death will be regretted by all those who have ever had the pleasure of stopping with him.

In about an hour after we arrived in Wheeling we got aboard of the steamer Manchester, Captain Bowman. The Manchester is a good and new boat, - the officers are elever and accommodating, and the fare was excellent. But she draws rather too much water when the river is as low as it was then. We were on her until she arrived at the lower end of Blannahassett's Island, where she made such a complete stick, that we thought there was a poor chance of travelling much farther on her at that time.

We kept on the Manchester until Thursday evening, when the steamer Envoy, Capt. Rodgers, came along, and we took passage on her, as we thought, for the remainder of the trip. She went along pretty well until about 10 P. M., when the first thing we heard was - "she's sinking," which was yelled out by the mate at a most vociferous rate. Here was a scene of great confusion. Some trying to get out of their state rooms, and others picking up their baggage and running for the hurricane deck. In a few minutes, however, quiet was restored, and it was ascertained that in rounding too at the head of Buffington's Island, she had ran aguinst the Jane Franklin, and "stoved in" her bow. She soon ran to shore and all was safe. The cause of the collision was this. - When these two boats arrived at the head of Buffington's Island, they discovered that the steamer, Royal Areh, was sunk in the channel. They then undertook to round too, and go ashore, rud in doing so, by some carelessness, the Envoy struck the Jane Franklin about midway, and "stoved" her bow in, while the Franklin escaped uninjured. When the boat struck, two men were so frightened that they jumped overboard, and not being able to swim, were unfortunately drownded. The pumps were then put to work, and kept so until we left her on Saturday morning. The officers of the Envoy are what might be called "grabbers," get all they can and give nothing back.

On Saturday morning, the Rev. Mr. Herr of Dayton, and ourself, concluded that we would go down to the lower end of the Island, and take the first boat that came through. We had not more than arrived there, before the splendid little steamer, John McFaden, came through, and we started on our journey. About midnight on the same evening, we arrived at Ironton, and as "sleep had left us" for several days, we concluded we would sojourn in that place until Monday morning. In company with our reverend friend, mentioned above, we repaired to the town where we had a good night's repose, which was very acceptable at the time.

Ironton is one of the wonders of the age. It is only about three years old, and now it contains a population of some 2500 inhabitants. It has a railroad running to it, a rolling mill or two, several foundries, and other beneficial improvements. About a year since it became the county seat of Lawrence Co, and it is still growing rapidly. We shall not soon forget the hospitality shown to us by our newly made friends, Mr. Peters and lady, of that place.

On Monday morning we started for Cincinnati on the steamer Cabinet, where we arrived safely the next day. The Cabinet is a regular packet, running between Ironton and Cincinnati, and we should judge that she does a good business from the loads of pig iron that she took on board, and she deserves it, for the officers are gentlemanly and accommodating.

We had been so long on the river, that we could make but a short stay in Cincinnati, and therefore missed the opportunity of seeing a great deal that we should like to have seen, besides a large number of old acquaintances. We are under obligations to our friends Robinson & Faran, of the Enquirer, (which by the by is one of the very best Democratic papers published in the country,) and Potter of the Commercial, for numerous favors shown to us during our short stay in the city.

On Wednesday, after transacting our business with the Messrs. Wells, the gentlemanly agents of the Cincinnati Type Foundry, and bidding adieu to the excellent hosts of the Dennison House, we started for home on the excellent steamer U. S. Mail, Captain Harley. The Mail is an excellen[?] MOCRA[?]

CADIZ, OHIO, WEDNESDAY EVEN[?]

boat, and that is proven from the fact, that the captain cares more about the lives of his passengers, than he does about steamboat racing.

We arrived at Steubenville on the next Saturday evening, and the next morning we started for Cadiz, on a "pony" loaned to us by our friend Judge Jewett, where we arrived in safety, and heartily rejoiced that we were done steamboating for a season at least.

Lieutenant Governor.

The Steubenville *Union* says: We have heard the name of our young friend J. M. Gilman, of Columbiana county, spoken of in connection with the Lt. Governorship, and understand that his name will be presented before the 8th of January convention for the nomination for that office. Mr. Gilman is a young man of the first order of talents, and has had legislative experience to fit him for the post. During the recent contests his voice on the stump was heard eloquently in the advocacy of democratic principles, and with a warmth and effect that challenged the admiration of all listeners, and won for him the meed of praise from all hands. He comes from a county, too - glorious old Columbiana - which never falters in her devotion to democratic principles, and if her democracy only backs Mr. Gilman with half the energy they display in their contests with our common opponents, he will be nominated and triumphantly elected. Both of which results, we need scarcely add, will give us great pleasure.

Franklin Pierce is the youngest man who has ever been elected President of the United States. He is 48 years of age. Washington, John Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, John Quincy Adams and Van Buren were each 58; Jackson, 62; Harrison, 68; Taylor, 68; and Polk, 49.

Hon. Louis McLane, of Cecil Co., Md., is mentioned as a suitable candidate for Secretary of State under General Pierce.

Gen. Pierce has written a letter to a citizen of Philadelphia, in which he states that he will not leave for the South until about the first of February.

A worthy but poor minister recently requested the loan of 50 dollars from the cashier of a bank, and in the note requesting the favor, he said he would [?] in ten days, on the faith of Abraham. The cashier replied that by the rules of the bank the indorser must reside in the State. The person then sent him a reference to the *Devil*, supposing they would not refuse one of their own directors. - *Cin. Enq.*

A Call for a State Temperance Convention. - The friends of Temperance in the several counties in this State, are requested to meet in some central place or places in their respective counties on the third Saturday, the 18th of December next, and at such meetings to discuss the propriety of a law entirely prohibiting the liquor trafic in Ohio, and designate a large number delegates to represent their views in a State Convention to be held in the City of Columbus on the first Wednesday (the 5th) of January, 185[?].

All the papers in this State are requested to publish this call.

S. F. CAREY, J. B. THOMPSON, JOHN A. FOOTE, WARREN JENKINS, JOHN J. JANNEY, Committee.

WEBSTER AND THE [?]. - A correspondent of the Detroit Free Press gives the following correction of an anecdote about Mr. Webster, when riding at night between Washington and Baltimore:

The anecdote is entirely incorrect, and as it appears to reflect on the courage of Mr. Webster, it is but fair that his memory should have the benefit of the true facts. The following you may depend on as the true version. I have heard it more than once from an intimate friend and great admirer of Mr. Webster, and who was in Congress with him.

Mr. Webster was one of the passengers in a stage coach which broke down between Baltimore and Washington. The passengers went to the nearest tavern, and there found that there was no other vehicle to be procured for some hours. This was at night, and Mr. Webster, being very anxious to proceed on his journey, applied to the landlord for some conveyance; his answer was that he had none, but that a person was there ready to proceed towards Washington in a gig, and might be induced to give him a seat; "but," said the landlord, drawing Mr. Webster aside, "you may not like your companion; he is the notorious M - - , the murderer!" "Never mind," said Mr. Webster, "he will not hurt me; ask him if he will take me." M - - was a man who had been tried for a most atrocious and savage murder, and who, although he had been acquitted, was believed by all to be guilty, and went by the name of M - - , the murderer. The owner of the gig consented to take Mr. Webster with him, and they started, chatting on various subjects, until suddenly, a very intimate part of the road, his companion turned abruptly towards Mr. Webster, and said, "Do you know whom you are riding with?" "With whom?" [?] "With M - - , the murderer," and, in his turn, asked, "and do you know with whom you are riding?" M - - at once answered, "Yes - with Daniel Webster, and I believe, too, the only man in the United States who would dare to say to me what you have just said." The boldness of the answer suited the savage spirit of M - - and he often afterwards related the anecdote.

You rarely, if ever see a politician with smooth hair, a great scholar with fine hair, an artist with red hair, a fop with coarse hair, a minister with long hair, or an editor whose hair is carefully adjusted.

Why did Adam, when alone, find the day long? Because it was always morning without Eve. C SENTI

8, 1852.

hich he did not discover till he reached the now banks before his own door! - Mr. Kep- per took his departure, leaving Lucretia with the widow.

No sooner had our hero gone, than Miss [?] ane, who had kept gradually hitching away rom the widower, made an errand to the tre, as excuse for hitching it back again.

"Nice young man, Mr. Kepper," observed the widower, glancing at Lucretia over his ickey, and laying his arm on the back of er chair.

"Nay," said Lucretia, stooping to place a tick on the andirons.

Mr. Brooks perceived that the glow of the re made her face very red.

"Used to be pretty neighborly, I under- tand?"

"I - yes - quite!"

Lucretia was crimson.

"Nothing but a friend, I suppose?"

"Oh, no! no!"

"Ahem! and if I should - that is, if any ne else should wish to marry you, he rould'nt be in the way?"

The widower's arm supplied from the back of the chair, and fell somehow by accident round her waist, and the widower being n absent minded person, neglected to put t back again!

"And would anything else be in the way, y dear?"

"That's according" - (how the fire did low in Lucretia's face!) - "according to ho the person is" -

The clasp of the arm about her waist ightened.

"Ah! hem! and if - and if - if it was me" -

"You! ha! there's no danger of that I uess!" said Lucretia, trying to laugh it off.

Another movement of the arm - and Lu- retia's head lay on the widower's shoulder.

"But I am in earnest," exclaimed Mr. Brooks.

"Oh! I didn't suppose - If that's the case," tammered Lucretia, pretending to struggle a little.

This afforded the widower an excuse for lasping her waist still closer. He laid his whiskers against her wet cheek, to the im- inent peril of Sampson Kepper's happiness, and the smoothness of his own dicky. Then you might have heard a kiss.

"There! now say you'll have me," ex-claim- ed the widower.

"If you - want me to" -

Lucretia thought of Sampson, and hesi- ated. She had a lingering affection for that young gentleman, but then, he had exhaus- ed her patience. Sampson was certainly a desirable man, But Lucretia was twenty- hree. It was sweet to become Mrs. Kepper, but it was awful to think of becoming an old maid. The widower's affections at this mo- ment struck Lucretia a happy medium - a comfortable certainty, although they prom- ised no uncommon happiness, and she mur- mured,

"I will."

And this is the manner in which Sampson, through a habit of too much caution and in- decision, lost the fairest maiden in Grass- borough, after courting her five years.

Mr. Brooks took his young bride home to fill the place of a mother of three children; and Sampson, who had a married sister, with a small family, in straightened circum- stances, resolved to give his poor relations a home in his house, and live with them as an old bachelor, to the end of his days. On losing Lucretia, Sampson, in despair, had made a vow never to marry.

Eight years afterwards, however, Mr. Kep- per had occasion to reconsider his vow. Mr. Brooks died suddenly, leaving Lucretia the mother of many more. Sampson was fond of children, and Lucretia was more of angel in his eyes now than ever. He visits her, married presents to her children, and did ev- erything in his power to console her in her affliction, and the young widow dried her tears, planted some delicate flowers on the grave of the lamented Brooks, and smiled encouragingly on her old lover.

People began to talk again. Sampson and Lucretia were going to be married now, at all events, said the gossips. But two years passed; every body was puzzled; and the fact that Mr. Kepper was a bachelor at forty, was a mystery.

The truth is, Sampson had not been cured of his old habit of procrastination. To mar- ry the mother of six children, and take her and them home - for Sampson could never have made up his mind to settle down on the Brooks estate - would be to disturb the peace of his sister's family, who had been living on him nearly ten years. Besides, Jane, his sister, and Mr. Bunker, his broth- er-in-law; who had a great irresolute mind, discouraged him from assuming such a re- sponsibility, as the matrimonial station oc- cupied by the late lamented Brooks.

"I would like to see you married and happy, dear," Mrs. Bunker would say, "for you [?] standing all our affection for you, I an attest you are something dis studied with your present way of living."

"Oh, I assure you again, sister," Samp- son would reply, "I appreciate your atten- tions."

"And I am sure we delight in doing for you. Still, if you desire to marry, take somebody worthy of you, and nothing would suit me better."

"But, Mrs. Brooks" -

"A widow with six children! I beg of you, if you value your peace of mind, don't marry another man's family. Look for some- body else."

She could safely give her brother this ad- vice, for she well knew he would never mar- ry any but Lucretia.

So Sampson hesitated. Although he sigh- ed for the widow, he felt that it would be ungrateful to marry against the wishes of those who did everything to make him hap- py; who were so disinterested in furnishing his comfort, and who thought so little of the fortune that would fall to them, provided he died a bachelor, that they were perfect- ly willing - almost anxious - that he should marry anybody but a widow with six chil- dren!

Such was the state of affairs, when Samp- son went one day to cut a saw-log out of the trunk of a large maple, which the wind had torn up by the roots, not far from the house. Having thrown his vest on the ground, and rolled up his sleeves, Mr. Kepper commenced the work of cutting away the branches that covered the trunk.

It was a hard job, Sampson afterwards said, and as the sun came pouring down up- on him, he was quite exhausted and heated, before the first cut was off. Leaving the [?]

main portion of the trunk hanging [?] to the stump, in order that block[?] placed under it, to keep it from r[?] to the ground Sampson struck [?] the log, and began to look for a [?] to sit down.

Near by grew a stately beech[?] the roots of which sprung up [?] growth of shoots, surrounding [?] tre. Reflecting that these woul[?] shade him from the sun, but als[?] protection against a swarm of f[?] termined to find a resting place a[?] and began accordingly, to push [?] in search of the most comfortable [?]

At that moment the chirping [?] rel attracted his attention to the [?] of the earth which adhered to th[?] roots of the fallen tree. The li[?] was sitting on the summit of this [?] ing saucily to Mr. Kepper, wh[?] of the corn it would consume [?] coming autumn, picked up a clo[?] a well aimed blow, knocked it in[?] cavity left by the exhumed root[?] Mr. Kepper with an eye to pleas[?] the perilous, jumped into the ho[?] ed that kicking squirrel out the[?] having thrown it down by his [?] ded to ensconce himself in the b[?]

Mr. Kepper found a most [?] spot where he was quite conceal[?] sun and flies, and there leaning [?] ancient basswood, he indulged in[?] which a nice widow, a delightful f[?] dren, cider in the evening, and go[?] for dinner, were charmily mixed [?]

Mr. Kepper was startled from [?] ant reflections by a dull crackli[?] the direction of the tree on wh[?] been chopping, pushing aside the [?] saw the chip breaking, which [?] the log hanging to the stump.

No sooner had he spoken, tha[?] dropped off, and instantaneousl[?] mass of roots and earth overba[?] stump, which was no longer atta[?] tree, turned slowly back, and [?] dull heavy report into its origina[?]

"The dogs!" muttered Sam[?] lucky I did'nt happen to be i[?] squirrel out of the hollow just at [?]

And he shuddered to think wh[?] death to be crushed under an [?] roots and clay.

Mr. Kepper, however, sat still [?] soon lost in another reverie, fro[?] was awakened by a most extraord[?] rence.

It afterwards appeared that [?] the hired man, who was in [?] a fence near by, had twice or th[?] eyes in the direction of the [?] Hearing the sound of Kepper's [?] ger, Mr. Symes looked shortly[?] saw that worthy man in the bu[?] roots of the tree; and in a little [?] led by a smothered concussion, [?] again, and beheld the stump [?] At that moment Mr. Bunker ap[?] inquired for his brother-in-law. in the direction of the stump, [?] body, Mr. Symes suddenly [?]

"I vow!" "What?" "I bet Kepper's been ketch[?] butt of that tree!"

Mr. Bunker thought it could [?] Symes assuring him that the [?] he saw Mr. K., he was in the h[?] to the spot;

"Good Lord!" cried Symes, [?] jacket - there's his axe - I vow [?] er!"

This was the exclamation wh[?] Mr. Kepper. He looked throu[?] es, and held his breath.

"Impossible!" said Bunker[?] "Where is Mr. Kepper then[?] Symes.

"Why he's walked off, I sup[?] "Walked off - walked off in [?] without his hat? Look here!"

Symes picked up the bachel[?] by the basswood bushes, where [?] had dropped it, on going into [?]

"I declare that looks bad!" a[?] ker.

Mr. Kepper was on the very [?] ing himself, to end the joke [?] grand laugh over it, when Mr. B[?] the remark that it looked bad.

Now Mr. K. could not have [?] to having any man say, such as a[?] looked bad. He himself would[?] ly impressed with the conviction [?] ed bad had he been under the [?] the manner in which Mr. B[?] mark, according to Mr. K's wa[?] looked bad in itself. To be b[?] countenance and tone expressive [?] tion which he could not conceal[?] thought he would just try the [?] of sitting still.

"Looks bad. Guess it does!" [?] and he swore by George, tha[?] wasn't under the stump, he was[?] was a kind of duty they owed th[?] to dig him out.

"Dig him out! I would take a [?] tered Mr. Bunker, rubbing his h[?] ably to keep the flies off. "T[?] Joe, if his there he's killed alre[?] though little digging would save [?] So we may as well make certain[?] there before we begin."

"There! to be sure he's th[?] for the shovels," exclaimed Jo[?] he was the best fellow in the w[?] ded with emotion. "I'll bring [?] - or don't you think the ones [?] stamp over? I'll bring 'em an[?]

Symes ran off, while Bunk[?] looking complacently at the stu[?]

"The dogs!" muttered Kepp[?] to the momentary fancy that h[?] bad predicament supposed - "h[?] there, you'll never get me out [?] you get to digging it!"

Bunker walked around the [?] deavoring to look under it, when [?] of the roots protruded, and dust [?] loud enough for his beloved [?] mutter!

"Buried, sure as guns!" [?] "Aye, if I muttered Kepper. [?] open Joan, I wonder when she [?] Mrs. Bunker came running [?] in a terrible state of excitement. "Dear me!" she gasped, "Jo[?] son is under the stump!" "Well," said Bunker, "I s[?] "S'pose he is," groaned Sam[?] "Oh, what shall we do!" gr[?] "Slight it," moaned [?] he be got out? How long has he[?] "Long enough," whispered K[?] [?] Sentinel [?]

NTINEL.

[TERMS - $1,50 IN ADVAN[?]

[?]

PAUL CRE[?]

FIRST USE OF MAHOGANY. - Dr. G[?]

[?] [?] MOTTO [?]

- $1,50 IN ADVANCE.

[?]t be stone dead. Of course, [?] then he ought to be thank- [?]as made his will." [?] Sampson was a cautious man." [?]pared," sighed Jane. "And if [?] snatched from us we ought to [?]hat he did'nt marry first. He [?] a good boy, if he did have his

[?] growled Sampson in the bush

[?]ow Brooks may go to the devil [?] Bunker with a grim smile, and a

[?] may, eh?" thought Sampson. [?]re, that odious match is off my [?]ed Jane. "Well, its probably [?] best. He could'nt have lived [?] you know." [?], we'll see," muttered Samp-

[?]some consolation," added Jane, [?], "to know that, although a [?]mpson, our children are provid- [?], here comes Joe with the oxen! [?]ar brother! Oh, save him Jo- [?]nay still be alive!" [?]" whispered Sampson, hoarse

[?]unker, help me whip this chain [?]p of the stump," cried Symes. [?]hey can't pull it," said Bunker. [?]m use if they," growled Samp- [?]g from the bushes. "I don't

[?]ord, here he is," cried Symes, [?] log chain. [?]ll," muttered Bunker, changing [?]ecovering his self-position, "you [?] heart; I never thought you were [?] stump, but still I - I felt anx-

[?] dear brother," exclaimed Jane, [?] embrace him. "I was afraid [?]er - " [?] I wasn't married," "hum," [?]mpson; puting on his vest sulkily. [?] brother," began Bunker, de- [?]"you have made - " [?] I know it," walking off. [?]ere are you going?" asked the [?]ker.

[?]m Mrs. Brooks that she has [?]sion to go to the devil." [?] brother, I meant - " [?]ant to consign her to me, to be [?]lled me an old devil; I am glad, [?]minded sister, that the odious [?] your mind. But it happens to [?]ind, heavy as you supposed this [?]p was on my body." [?]ed on his neck, but Sampson [?]away.

[?]soled yourself with the recol- [?] will, when you thought I was [?]muttered; "and now that I am [?] inconsolable. Here Joe Symes, [?]he wondering I, - here, there's [?] I'll remember you. Throw that [?]ound Bunker, and shake him in- [?]le of next July, and try to do me

[?]rode away, leaving Jane sobbing [?] Bunker gnawing his nether lip, [?]mes laughing so that he could [?]d.

[?] Kepper never entered his own [?], until the Bunkers had moved [?]hich event was of speedy occur- [?]hen he did take possession, ac- [?] the widow, now Mrs. Kepper, [?]ittle Brookses.

[?] Sampson was very happy, for [?] three things to repent - that he [?]rried Lucretia fifteen years ago, [?] allowing another to enjoy her [?]om; that the selfishness of others [?]en years of blissful married life; [?] the dear little Brookses were not [?]Keppers.

PAUL CREPTON.

[?] OF MAHOGANY. - Dr. Gibbons, [?] physician in the latter end of [?]enth century, had a brother a [?] who was the first that brought [?]est Indies some mahogany logs [?] The Doctor was then building [?] in Covent Garden, and his broth- [?]in, thought they might be of ser- [?]o, but the carpenters found the [?]d for their tools, and it was laid [?]less. Soon after, Mr. Gibbons [?]andle box, and got a cabinet-mak- [?] it out of the useless wood lying [?] The box was made, and [?] was so pleased with it, that he [?]net-maker to make him a bureau [?]e fine color, and polish of it in- [?] to invite a great number of his [?]ee it; and among them the Duch- [?]uckingham. Her Grace begged [?] for some of the wood, and got [?] the cabinet-makers, to make her [?]so, on which the fame of ma- [?]d Wollaston were much raised, [?]me the rage for grand furniture, [?]exceeds it yet. - Eng. Paper.

[?]acquaintance of ours, one day last [?]ossing upon the ferry boat took [?]ted five dollar bill of the Rich- [?]ok of Virginia, at Wheeling, which, [?]ng to the collector of fare, was [?] the river and lost. The next day [?]idavit of the fact before a mag- [?] forwarded it to the Bank, [?]morning he received a letter [?]ashier, enclosing a bran new V, [?] on the said Bank. We are con- [?] admit, in this case, that some [?]isste from a corrupt source. - Eng.

[?]s are excellent in friesses, or [?]crisped parsley. But they must [?] fed with a view to the table, [?] turn out so better than the snails [?] Ferguson, the historian, and [?] the chemist, attempted to explain [?] of the ancients. These learned [?]essors raised a quantity of snails [?] to be collected in the fields and [?] kind of soup. They took their [?]ate to each other, and set some of [?] good faith. A month full or two [?]h that the experiment was a fail- [?]ich was exhausted to give in first. [?]ick, stealing a look at his friend, [?] say, "Diana, ye think, therfor a [?]?" "Confounded gizzens!" cor- [?]responded Ferguson, "tak' 'em

[?] what papers have frequently [?]ime, of "the demand who never [?]? "Does any one recollect the