Oregon City enterprise., August 08, 1873, Image 1

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VOL. 7
OREGON CITY, OREGON, FRIDAY, AUGUST 8, 1873.
NfO. 41.
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MY JAM K-S UVSSEM' I-OWKIX.
SobeauUtul.s u
ru-yi
V ;l lonuM.n1..ul.ls in clay what life
- irv s in the marble real ;
Toh't the new lift- i, 'u
IfrVire must .po the portal ,
lVihai.s the loi.-ing to he so
Helps make tlio .soul immmtil.
ti,.miiu' is Ood's .fresh heavenward
VhWwe are hourly wronging
0r lives must rami, tipi.i hope to hope,
Ami realize our longing.
let us hope! hid to our praise
M..i not only nvkmis
J. .,,,,..,1 when we tread Ins ways,
.. . i, .. il... .;oirit ooekolis.
That so.ne shgh. g-d. is..l.,.Wn.u,
ht
it.-ml s. li-s tus::iei it mi,
Wlt. wearc- simply good in thought,
JloweVr we fail in action.
BINDING AV!Ii:AT.
Hinding wheat ami singing low ;
Walehiu- when- t he .reapers go;
W ife hiu-; w hi i e am'.i!t Uie rei
.stn.ie' arms folded on his hreasl
.sum.lst!ienolh-.lotthenial
Si nuls the stalwart youth ami tall,
Stands the hamht's - reatt-st pride
siuunls the reaper eagle-cy e I.
Wal.-lmi-'.sin.irin'-r s-'K and low
l'ii,r!iu ' sheaves Willi checks aglow,
Wliere iu all the ;-omitry ol.!,
. i ...l-j 1 1 1 t l,i .rn lo neei er iT ! .
l'.rown loeUs that utther sn'n and sh:
i . i. 1 1 win-. I m. it ot bran t :
'.111!
And where in all the eountr.v se e
Omld reaper
linil a .un-1 'fowned lirk'i,
With daiiitier euiv.' oilip and eliin,
Or purer heall in ie io i,itn .
If kneelin- l.v the sheaf she hound
With tardv liand her ye Intn 1 -run.
Sunn- h:v hill-topdisiant taf,
or ulimiuer of the first, ouu strjr;
1 f. drifi'mir on the tid.e oi t iiou-ht,
She dreams and luitii iorirot
A 1 1 i'le. who wonders tht aero.ss
iriMin
A tig; ire turiiiwir. Iialts :iLrani
A st.'ilsvait tiiiuie i-rown ami tall,
With ni udv t ai in' over iul -What
wond' r hi kiiiidiu-C eye
S,ts not the hrow u tin iish lluUyiin;jr
S.-1-s not the t!ioiia:id lorms of ur..e.
Sees nothing hut iiie sun-l nowned I
I
lv.
It."..'.
One l"tlie Sw eetest iK-rieace.
"Ureathes tliere ;i ina:i vit'i sole so
tlead," who lias never swnnu' ti a
with a pretty prirl? If there is
sueh an unf'.tun:t", I j'ity aim l"nui
the' jiiner:no.-it rev-esses t.i' i:iv lif-iirt
I iitv liiia as on- w tio lias liiisso.i a
sensation, one of the lest of oul- im
lt;rfet t natures !
I have swun tliat way with a rfreat
many x'iv in my time, f am oin.u"
to .swiiitr some more i; T t'. 't tie
chanee ior if I '! not I shall mourn
for a, lost oiMiortunity.
Oomiii! home from elnireh of a
44moony" ni.yht Lathed in the mellow
lif,'lit, a little hand i-linine; fon!id
ingiy to your ma:ily arm nvl a pretty
faiv lt5witehinly elo-e to yours ;
1 riilit eyes looking an linutteiaole
sweetnss at you ; ripe-red lips mov
ing to enehaiitin small-talk celes
tial music ton man in love you ri aeh
that vell-remenilered gate. You open
it for her to pass in, but before .!u
tloes that, sum:thin uns.ii.l mur.t be
remembered, and talu steps to retjiil
tliat pretv gossip. You i'.re haritiy
et)neiousf her wor-is, Imt you are
in that stage of the tender pa.-sion
when her voiee is the soul of mu.ie
au.l all y.m want is to kovp her talk
lug as long as you c;ui.
Thi latn's are out iu the house m
front; the old folks luive gone to roost
and you have thciieM all to yourself.
At last she passes in ict'ter
D A CKKTAI-N ClNC'LrSIVK SOVXD,
has taken phiee under her bonnet.
You dream of your first stick of
oandv, of i:iaple 's.igar, of Charlotta
riss".,, a,,, :lH sorts of liquids and
srji'l swei'tuoss, iii-.l you think them
t.ile. ilat and unprofitable, eomi.ireil
witli that kiss.
Is she going to leave you. now that
the gate is closed? Not if I know
anything of ftrmale nature, and I have
had something to say to confiding
f"UuVs of sill classes, and they are
fthke iu this respe -t, they delight in
the eoinpanv f a passible young
man by moonlight ; ami in that they
shmv their good tast. I have heard
3 it said 1 1 iiit there are females -lif-ferently
constitutt'd, but I never met
them, and am glad of it. I hope I
Uever shall.
Something more to tell. She re
turns to' (he gate ami leans upon it.
Your lips are rati er close to hers,
iind if you do not kiss her then I
have no respect for you, unworthy
us you are of the name of man. You
talk about the moon, about Tom
1 tlows at sea, about the moon
"gain, about the weather, about the
-j hormon not much the moon again,
Jenuy Wade's bonnet; that horrid
"Id maid, Miss Yirginia June and
her shmders; the weather again, the
dance of the Kmht Templars, the
jnoon once more.wdh a slight sprink
ling of kissing thrown in by the way
'i spieo. Some ancient persons of
euaer sex may sav this is all verv
ly. Uh: You h ive done the same
O in your time if Vlu ever amounted
to anything.
; Hut all things must have an end,
nmi partxn-s must come. The lios
' to-,'t!lf'i' in a.long parting kiss,
' ?f 7 J"0" li"ine through the mellow
; )'? 1111 of l-tie tlioughts, as
5 al a "ou" man ever is in this
V ,J!V OI ,ill,JS n.l debtors. Let's
c more of it this i-rimrnn
" 1 the proprietor,
me L':it.-
3
C7W VKir sta' of the London
e.li or r" :m Persons, the chief
Jft1'.;s"lt'ntnfctLi United StTites.
--mu wan
New Parties.
From the San Francisco Examiner.
There is; a, certain class of cast-oil'
Republicans and a certain set of so
called independent journals, who,
without countenance or influence iu
any existing political organization,
are constantly proclaiming the need
of a new party, formed out of the
better elements of those now being.
Singularly enough these persons and
journals, comprehending and repre
senting but a small minority that
lost caste in the regular ltadical
party, on account of their rebellion
against Grant, desire most of all that
the Democracy should formally vote
itself out of existence and then go
over with nil its legions to the Tal
statlian standard of the gentlemen
who last Autumn played the merry
mischief with Horace Greeley and the
Democratic party, trying to recon
cile the irreconcilable, to mix the
aqueous and the oleagneous thuds of
free-trade and protection, and win
ignoble victory through a mutual
sacrifice of eternal principle.
Tin? theory of the Cincinnati-Baltimore
project was perfect in its way;
admirably adapted in philosophy to
the view of the situation taken by the
sentimental gentlemen who arranged
the programme for the musical cam
paign that was to result in the trans
lation of the Y'hite Hat to the "White
House; but it failed lamentably in
the execution of its details, because
no suliicient allowance was made for
the impracticable and stupid people,
composing the bulk of the Demo
cratic party, who refuse to be led by
tricks of expediency or l'uslain about
new ideas aud progress into a sur
render of what they consider vital
m-iiiciules, that no defeat at the bal
lot box can crush out of life. The
same gentlemen, whoso numbers
may be told oa one's linger ends, are
still striving to break up the Dem
ocratic party and build upon its
ruins something new. They stig
matize those who still insist upon the
maintainam-e of the old organization,
as Donrbons, who never forget and
never learn; yet they show them
selves to be jJourbons of a far worse
type, for they must know that it was
their lolly thai re-elected Grant, by
forcing :i most unwise and unwel
come nomination down the throats
of Democrats in the last Presiden
tial elections. Now, instead of act
ing like sensible men, aud coming in
out of the cud, where they are at
tached to neither political house
hold and helping to strengthen. the
Democratic army, they insist upon
that army striking its colors t- them
aud yielding to a handful of theo
rists, no two of v.hom are in cordial
accord, politically, the whole guid
ance. Here is the Democratic party
with numerous tried and true states
men as leaders, asked to overthrow
them, give up its own ghost, and
rise a.Maiu under the control of per-.-'.!
,s who never breathed , Demo
cratic breath iu their lives:, and who
are dissident from t he ( J l ii-ut party
on mainly personal grounds.
livery 'day or so, v. hen we take tip
an''in.iependent" f,aper, w eilml some
absurd allusion to the "dead Dem-
lzatioii
r.ee.liis ct
ontantlv to befoul
1 1 .
me imagination oi tin se '.Uiii-rs ana
its ghost to be ever haunting their
editorial columns. The Democracy
must be thoroughly killed, of course,
or there will eca.-e to be aay inter
est in polities fur the doctrinaires of
the independent newspapers; so long
us that fossilized party will l;e kick
ing, as if it were alive, no opportuni
ty will arise for the " now party "
men. There are some persons who
have a mania for and are always
dreaming of creating new parties.
If Mr. Henry George, for instance,
were d"privcd of indulgence in the
innocent pastime of semi-weekly
eviscerating the Democratic parry
iinn creating its suoct-ssor. full pan
oplied, we fear his digestion would
be ruined and his cerebral eapilla
ments cease to vegetate.
The history of political parties in
the United States shows how futile
have been nil such attempts. Within
the last twenty years many such ef
forts have been' matte, but in every
histance only failure came of thy en
deavor. Still, as we have shown,
there are yet persons untaught by
experience who are weak enough to
spend their breath upon such enter
prises and vain enough to think
themselves the inspired agents of a
new politcal dispensation, wasting in
their foliv a valuable expenditure of
both time and money. The Cincin
nati En'ulrT, iu its sensible fashion,
savs it would about as soon take w
contract to establish a republic in
Ireland as to disband either of the
great parties and establish a new or
ganization upon their ruins. e
can, in this connection, use the lan
vua'f'0 of Mr. Groosbeck in regard to
the Constitutional Amendments.
The parties "are made; they will
stand." We cannot overturn them,
but we can improve and reform them
Especially is it a herculean task to
dissolve and break up the old Dem
ocratic party, which has withstood
the storms' of three-quarters of a
centurv. We can assure all con
cerned that there is a feeling of re
spect and attachment for that party
among the three or four millions of
voters that compose it that would be
lions in the path of those who would
run athwart it. One may call it big
otry and prejudice, if one pleases,
but there it is it exists, and you
might as well recognize the tact,
iirst as last. We ourselves have
sometimes come in pretty sharp an
tagonism with it. and we know its
strength. If adversity could have
destroyed a party the Democratic
organization would have given up
the ghost ten years ago. But the
fact is, the mass of the party are
pretty heavily laden with what they
suppose to be principle, and, as thev
do not want ollice, they keep right
on voting their sentiments, year a tor
year. They will assent at once to
the proposition that there is a deal
of corruption in politics, Imt vou
cannot make them comprehend liow
the disbaudment of the Democratic
party, which has not been guiltv of
the corruption, is to stop it. "On
the contrary, they propose to work
for its overthrow their own medium.
We might as well say here that
the talk of certain Liberal Da-publican
lenders that the people will
submit to sill the misgovernmcnt of
the IJepublicans rather than trust
the Democrats, is not exactly the
best argument that can be urged to
a Democrat to cease to be a Dem
ocrat. It irritates greatly, but it
doesn't convince. If there, are Ite.
publieaps who, disliking thai party
and wishing its overthrow, are yet so
full of prejudice that they can't net
with those whom they formerly com
batted as Democrats, because they
don't like the name or its remiset-n-ces,
they certainly are neither wise
nor liberal. Having so much party
bigotry themselves that they are not
in a good condition to conquer it in
others. The Democracy are perfect
ly willing to co-epcrato with llepub
lican reformers. They may even, as
they did last year, put them in the
lead, backing them up Avitli nil their
strength, but further than that they
will not go. and it is idle to talk
about it. We rather suspect that
the Democratic party will be in ex
istence and voting its tickets long
after this generation shall have pass
ed away.
. .o-
A Wiiil Huntress A Strange 15at
True Story.
The Wheeling HyUltr of a late
date tells the following story on the
authority of John Messenger, of
Winbridgo, Green county, Pa., for
whose veracity it vouches:
A man living near Wiubridge, I'n.,
had born him the children, four
girls and one boy. His name is
Daniel Lewis. When quite young
the boy and second daughter, named
Lucinda Lewis, developed quite a
fondness for hunting, ami woe oat
nearly all the time roaming the woods
in search of game. They seemed to
delight in nothing so much as ihe
full life of a hunter, and would be
gone, from home for weeks at a time.
After some Jive- years the boy quit it
and entered on the more indnsiious
pursuits of life, but the girl contin
ued in the chase. Draw ing herself
more from human intercourse and
restraint, she has become a wild wo
man, lh oiug from the approach of
her kind with the speed of u deer.
During the early years of her soli
tary life she used to approach lier
fatner's hou.-.e, mid entice the dogs,
to follow her, teaching almost any
breed of dogs to become good hun
ters. I?i the hope of biiimhig her
back to her home ami to civilization,
her brother followed her and shot the
dog she had taken away, using every
inducement to get her to go back
with him, but all in vain.
Tor eighteen years, since she was
twelve years of age, site has lived
this wild life, sleeping in the center
of straw shc-ks during the night and
hiding in them during the summer.
She is now thirty years old, and is as
wild iis the most untamed denizen of
the forest.
Mr. Messenger says lie at onetime,
while out hunting, met her in the
woods. Her long, black hair, cover
ing her face and eyes, was matted
with burs and leaves, and her black,
1 lashing ey es made her a startling
picture. She remained perfectly
still until he got within twenty feet
of her, when she turned and tied
with a swiftness no man could hope
to rival.
A few days since she was seen
again, and then had in her hand
three pheasants and four rabbits, but,
although these encumb'-red her, she
eluded every attempt to capture her.
She has been so long in the woods
that she has become perfectly wild.
Her dress is made of the skins of
wild animals and a blanket that she
has taken somewhere during some of
her nocturnal predatory tours.
A Sail Case.
A very touching case of mental
alienation in a charming young Jady
is described by a careful observer.
Not long ago her mother found her
in her room energetically darning
stockings, and soon after appeared in
tht! kitchen and assisted that wonder
ing dame in making and baking bread
and pastry. Alarmed by these fear
ful signs of intellectual disorder, her
fond parents immediately sent for a
skillful physician, who watches her
t! trough a keyhole while she sewed
buttons on her father's garments and
mended those of her little brother.
Much alloc ted the venerable man re
marked that never during a medical
practice of twenty-five years had he
known any young person to manifest
s:.ch symptoms as these. The mosr
heart-rending phase of all, however,
was shown the other day, when her
kind father, with a faint hope of
rousing her from her sail state, gave
her s-ji)0 and told her to buy a new
dress. Alas! 'twas useless. She in
stantly observed that she didn't need
a new'tlress, and if he would let her
keep '2 to pay a poor widow's rent
sheM much rather he would take the
rest of the money for himself. For
a few moments' that grief-stricken
old gentleman gazed upon his hapless
child then hiding his face, mutterd
between his sobs. " Her mind is gone!
her mind is gone!" X 1". Trlbt'ne.
Wilt, Find It Handy. A young
man of Belfast, lately married, hangs
a large whip over his parlor door as
a gentle reminder of his sentiments
r.o nnnstion of woman's rights.
The A'lrertiser says his little wife will
rind it handy if she ever mislays the
broom.
Divorced.
"He'll go to the dogs now."
"Of course he will."
"By all means. Only see how he
acted when his wife lived with him!
Now that she has left him, and all
restraint is removed, he'll go to the
vest of the downward way in no time.
"I'll give him just one vear to be
buried."
"Pshaw! Half that time will finish
him."
"Well I
her more.
pity him, too, but I pity
He brought the misery
on both."
Such was the talk -of half dozen
villagers, who stood in front of one
of the. principal stores- one evening
while the subject of their remarks
staggered along on the other side.
It was evident that he was trying
to walk straight, but such endeav
ors always seem to make a drunken
man walk more crooked. However,
it proved he was not lost to all sense
of sh.-ime, and still retained an aver
sion to being ridiculed anil despised.
But Harry Bogers had carried on
at a fearful rate for a year or two
pas t. lie had just one vice drink;
but that
was enough. He had mar-
ried a beautiful
f;: rn iovV A : n .vl i ti.v
Nettie 11
...... v.,, 1 , IV i ,
ay, only a lew
vears provi-
ous, hut sue
i nail nee ii ins com met
i -.
during more than a year jmst that
she had been obliged to cut him
loose to pursue his profligate course
alone, aud a legal separation had just
been affected.
II arry's home was a little farm, a
mile from town, lie owned it but
then it was heavily mortgaged, and
in another year foreclosure was cer
tain. It was not likely his creditors
would spare him when he made no
eilbrt to meet his obligations.
A week passed after that summer
evetiing on which all had agreed in
predicting his early ruin two weeks
a month or two. What mystery is
here? To the utter bewilderment of
the prophesying sages, Harry dis
continued visiting the taverns, and
was rarely seen in the village-. When
he did come to the store he speedily
transacted his business and then
went home -sober.
Wonders never cease when they
get a start. He was next reported as
actually at work on his farm. Had
but one man told this in the village
he would have been marked as lack
ing veracity; but as several ladies
vouched for the fact, it was thought
worthy of credence.
The little farm began to look
healthier as the summer wore on.
The fences straightened up, the
weeds disappeared; the animals look
ed fatter and happier, and the little
cottage looked neater.
Time wort on, and the great change
was more remarkable every day.
Harry's charitable creditors called
and told him he might have his own
time to pay orl' that mortgage.
The fall came and the farm yielded
an abundance of crops, ami Harry
found himself beo-niiiiig to drift
along with the title of prosperity.
And Nettie had begun to live her
young girlhood over again, a it wore
under her father's roof; but some
how it was not like ihe happy, joyous
girlhood of memory. It was sober
and quiet now, and she fell into the
train oi musing, and every now and
then there passed through her mind
a certain thought she was neither
maid nor wife.
She avoided
late home, nor
Harry since the
heard of him
that he was a
the vicinity of her
had she once seen
separation; but she
occasionally knew
changed man. Still
this knowledge brought but a melan
cholic satisfaction. The reform had
come too late. There was a wide
gulf between them now.
But, one evening in the golden
October, Nettie felt herself obliged
to pass Harry's farm. Tt lay between
her father's house and the village.
On the evening in question however,
she had been detained in the village
until it was nearly dark, and she de
termined to hazard the nearest road
home. It would lie fully dark when
she would pa:-:s his house, aud the
chances wort; that he would not see
her. She wouldn't have him see
her for the world. When she arriv
ed opnosite the house she observed a
light in the sitting room. Her lirst
impulse was to hurry by, but some
powerful impulse prompted her to
stop. She did so, and stood timidly
nt the further side of the road, gaz
ing longingly at the house that had
onctj been the home to her lirst hap
piness, then of misery. By-and-by
.she felt an irresistable yearning to
look at the interior once more. He
was evidently within and there was
no danger that he would see her.
So she walked hurriedly across the
road, opened the gate, and sof Un
stopped into the lawn. Another
minute she was at the window look
ing in. What singular behavior.
But she could not help it.
The little room was as neat as her
self had watched over it. A cheer
ful tire was burning in the grate, al
though the night was not cold, and a
lighted lamp -stood on the table. It
was there that Harry was sitting.
How her heart bounded as she caught
sight of him. He held a book in his
hand from his scanty library.
She recognized it at once, but he
was not reading now. Was he asleep
or was lie buried in a sad reverie?
Nettie thought the latter was the
case, and her heart was touched,
when she saw a tear roll down his
chock and drop upon the book. The
lonely man was not asleep he was
crying.
She could not help it. All the wo
man iu her heart was aroused, and
she was at the door in a moment.
No ceremony, she burst into the sit
ting room and was at his side.
"Oh, Harry!"
Her voice quivered with emotion.
"Why Nettie!" he exclaimed try
ing to hide his tears men are asham
ed of them "i'j it vou"
-
COURTESY OF BANCROFT LIBRARY,
ttvtuttrTTY m? r.AT.TFOFJNIA.
"Yes Harry,I was passing I look
ed in I saw you sitting here so lone
ly, and couldn't help coming in. I
thought of the time we were happy
here, and "
Then her womanly tears could be
repressed no longer' There was no
use of trying to hide them. Besides
her voice broke down, and she could
say no more jhist then.
He rose and took both her hands
from her face, and held them jn his
own. "I thought you had blotted
me out from vour memory."
"No, no Harry," she sobbed, "I
could not do that. 1 left you loving
you more than ever. Oh I have
been unhappy."
"2ettie, you have hoard that I '
"Yes, I have heard that yon have
changed that you do not drink any
more that again you are manly and
industrious as you used to be. but
how lonely vou must be here" and
the tears gushed forth anew as her
heart felt what her lips spoke.
"Yes I am lonely, Nettie more
than you may think; but I have de
served this punishment for the way
I have acted. I had no discourage
ments, I had nothing to make me do
so. It was only a assion for drink
that seemed impossible for me to
overcome. You were all a wife could
ho. When you left me I thought I
should become worse than ever.
Only a day or two after you left me
I Wiis in town drunk, and I heard
some village people they thought I
could not hear them across the street
passing all sorts of remarks about
me, saying I v.asa doomed man, and
that destruction was near. Although
intoxicated it startled me, and for
the lirst time I felt the full force of
our reparation, and realized that de
struction stared me in the face. I
had a bottle of whisky in my pocket
itt the time, when out of town I
smashed it, and washed my lace in a
stream by this road side, and resolved
never to touch liquor again. It was
hard to keep my re.solve for the lirst
week or two, but I stood it, and soon
my taste for drink disappeared. I
care nothing for it now, and would
not touch it if it ran in streams.
Now, Nett'e, if you love me as ever,
and God knows I love you the same
let us get married over again, and
the bitter experience of the hist few
years will only enhance our happi
ness. Nettie, dear, what do vou
say i
She could not answer, she was cry
ing as it her heart would break,
and her head was pillowed on his
breast. It was n more eloquent yes
than the tongue could speak.
The moon w as rising :.s he walked
heme with Nettie to her father's.
So Harry Bogvrs and Nettie Kay
wcre married again, ami there is no
divorce that could part them now.
What "Guanoi:" Means. We
clip an explanation of this term
from one of our exchanges:
The farmers of the West in their
new movement have called their as
sociations " granges." It is very
expressive, but more an English
than an American word. It conies
from jrc.ii ' hi a grain, and its prima
ry signification is probably that of
the granary. Its broader meaning
is :i farm house and its outbuildings.
Some illustrations will show these
two meanings. From the " Song of
the sower," so exquisitely illustrated
by the Appletons, we have:
And from the distant grange there
eon icS
The clatter of the thresher's Hail.
In Milton's " Comus":
When from their teeming Hocks and
granges till 1,
I ii wanton t iiice, they praise the boun
teous Pan.
M''is Hre for Jf'tsnre, third act,
gives us:
1 will presently to St. Trnke's where, in
The moated grange, resides this
JjcjecUd Mariana.
Tennyson's Mariana in the Moat
ed. Granges," with the blue ily sing
ing in the pane about the weakest
thing he lias written w ill be remem
bered by all. Our farmers could
not have found a more expressive
word.
How to ru: 1'ol.ite. Do not try
too hard to be polite. Never over
whelm your friends by begging them
to make themselves at home, or they
will soon wish they were there.
Show by your actions rather than
your words that you are glad to see
them. Have enough regard for
yourself to treat your greatest enemy
with quiet politeness. All petty
slights are merely meanness, and
hurt yourself more than any one
else. "Do not talk about yourself or
your family to the exclusion of oth
er topics. 'What if you are clever,
and a little more so than other peo
ple, it may not be that other folks
will think so whatever they ought
to do. It may be very interesting to
you to talk over your ailments, but
very tiresome for others to listen to.
Make people think you consider them
pleasant and agreeable, and they will
be ju'ctty apt to have a pretty pleas
ant impression of yourself. Treat
people just as you would like to have
them treat you. It is much easier
to lose the good opinion of people
than to retain it; and when one does
not care for the good opinion of oth
ers, he or she is not worthy of re
spect. Do not excuse your house,
furniture, or the table you set before
your guests. It is fair to suppose
that their visits are to you, not to
your surroundings. The whole ma
chinery of social intercourse is very
intricate, and it is our business to
keep all places of poosifieation well
supplied with the oil of politeness.
Coloking Pipes and Noses. Some
. i f i
men spent! a fortune coloring tl
1 7
icir
initr.T. nv t.i:ow one man wno
spent ?20,000 simply ia coloring
iio:.e.
has
his
r
Incident of the Days of Nullification.
From the Xtw York World.
A correspondent, writing from
Yirginia to the Louisville Courier
Jottruul, reports an interview with
Mr. Thomas T. Giles, wherein that
gentleman communicated a conver
sation he had with Mr. Calhoun " in
the month of January, 1So2," of
which the following is a passage,
Mr. Calhoun, at this point, the cor
respondent remarks, having become
warmed by " some line old Maderia,"
administered to him by Iris young
interlocutor:
" They say I am afraid to go to
Washington; that Jackson will cut
oil' my head as the arch-iiuliifier.
We will see. I understand the pro
clamation; the North does not. It
was written by Livingston, and is so
worded as to induce the North to
believe that Jackson is not a States'
rights man. The North is mistaken,
but is none the less delighted."
Jackson was made LL. D. at Cam
bridge in compliment to the procla
mation, j " Now I am not a prophet
nor the son of a prophet, but I make
this prediction that within two
weeks after my arrival in Washing
ton Daniel Webster will dine with
Andrew Jackson at the AVhite House,
and Henry Clay will introduce a
compromise. The proclamation,
misunderstood as it is, has unhorsed
Mr. Clay at the North; to make po
litical capital he must once more
turn his eyes to the South. In a
compromise he perceives an oppor
tunity which he will not fail to take
ad vantage of. I will not be visible
in the matter; will not even see Mr.
Clay, or he me, but I will let him
know what terms I am willing to ac
cept, and he will accept them. Then
will be the compromise. See if my
words do not come true."
To Avhich the correspondent adds:
"They did not come true to the let
ter." Scarcely to the letter, but cer
tainly in substance, conceding this
report tt) be authentic, as it probably
is not. Mr. Calhoun did see Mr.
Clay and Clay him. although one of
Mr. Calhoun's biographer's, it is true,
allirms that "Mr. Calhoun Avas con
sulted through a third person," Mr.
Calhoun and Mr. Clay not being "at
this time on speaking terms." They
really were not; but they saw each
other nevertheless.
The fact is, conference between
them was arranged by Governor
Letcher of Kentucky, then a member
of Congress, and always a devoted
friend of Mr. Clay's, though generally
on fair terms with Mr. Clay's enemies
the Governor's broad and genial na
ture having been a kind of solvent in
which the mutual enmities of his
friends mingled peacefully together.
Governor Letcher, in the lirst in
stance, assumed the responsibility of
visiting Mr. Calhoun and pressing
him to call on Mr. Clay, for the
purpose of coming to some under
standing with him in respect to the
measure of pacilication which he
was known to be maturing. Mr. Cal
houn at iirst declined with consider
able feeling; but yielding somewhat
to Governor Letcher's persuasion, he
iinally suggested a doubt as to the
manner in which Mr. Clay would re
ceive him, when the Governor
promptly assumed the further respon
sibility of guaranteeing him a cour
teous reception; whereupon Mr. Cal
houn consented to call on Mr. Clay
tho next morning. Governor Letch
er then went to Mr. Clay, told him
what he had done, and, with that arch
mixture of pleasantry and presump
tion that usually masked his unfail
ing tact, added: "I have promised
him that you will behave yourself
like a gentleman." Mr. Clay, laugh
ingly engaged to make the promise
good. The next morning early Gov
ernor Letcher called for Mr. Calhoun,
and accompanied him to Mr. Clay's
room. Mr. Clay had just risen, and
was standing before the mirror shav
ing himself. Asking Mr. Calhoun
to be seated he calmly went on with
his shaving, and Avith his back still
toward the Carolinian, plunged un
ceremoniously and rather imperious
ly into the middle of the subject.
Mr. Calhoun manifested painful em
barrassment, in which Governor
Letcher for a moment shared, but
Mr. Clay softened his tone a little,
and the understanding desired was
established,thoughMr.Clay through
out the interview showed a haughty
and inflexible spirit, which Governor
Letcher was of opinion Mr. Calhoun
forgave. The Governor himself did
not appear to think that Mr. Clay
had fully redeemed the promise on
the strength of which the interview
took place. He apparently felt that
his illustrious friend had "not in ail
respects behaved himself like a gen
tleman. But Mr. Clay it should be
remembered in extenuation of this
manner, knew that Mr. Calhoun had
run his neck into a halter, and was
not inexcusably nettled by what
seemed to him to be the obstinate
stickling of the latter over terms that
were to bring safety to himself and
peace to the country. It is hardlv
nece.ssary to add specifically that
the concessions made in this inter
view were made by Mr. Calhoun and
not by Mr. Clay. Our excuse for
recalling it thus ut length is that we
once happened to receive an account
of it from the lips of the venerable
Letcher.
As to the date of the above report
ed conversation with Mr. Calhoun,
there is evidently a mistake on the
part of somebody, since the procla
mation to which" Mr. Calhoun is rep
resented as referring was not issued
till nearly a year after the alleged
date of the conversation. The con
versation, if it occurred at all, must
have occurred between the 11th of
December, 1832, the date of the proc
lamation, and the 11th of February
1S33, when Mr. Clay actually intro
duced his compromise measure, and
as Mr. Calhoun is said to have been
on his way to Washington at the
time.it rau.?t have occurred only a
few- weeks before the latter event,
vhich intelligence of the impending
measure, had no doubt penetrated
the political circles through which
Mr. Calhoun had passed in his jour
ney. These considerations -would
seem to reduce the prophecy in ques
tion to very nnprophetic dimensions.
It looks indeed not unlike a proph
ecy after the event. We can readily
believe that the prophecy, if made,
was made under the inspiration of
"some line old Madeira" rather than
of that political prescience of which
Mr. Calhoun undoubtedly had Lis
share, but which linds no proper
scope in a field ocenpied by knowl
edge. Mr. Calhoun, it is probable
adoptod the prophetic tone merely
to impress his j oung friends, and it,
may haAe been to guard himself
against the possibility that this pri
A ate intelligence might not after all
be verilied by the event. There is
sometimes less risk in prophesying
than in averring. Mr Giles proba
bly mistook a lively form of aver
ring what ir.ts for a solemn prophecy
of Avhat Avas lo be.
The Terrible liulloon Accidents
The balloon used by La Mountain,
the aeronaut, on the Fourth of July,
at Ionia, Michigan, was one of the
hot air kind, a pattern of which is
used by the travelling circuses of
the period. There Avas but little
wind at the time, and the balloon
rose directly upward, remaining
right over the point from Avhence it
started, appearing of course, to di
minish its size, till it was judged by
that appearance aud the rate of its
upvard movement to be 3,000 feet
high. The shouts had ceased, and
10,000 upturned faces watched the
diminishing object intently, when
the basket was seen to separate from
the sack, Avhich hung ami Avavered
about in one sjwt for half a minute
or so, while the basket and man were
shooting dowiiAvard with the Aelocity
of a cannon shot! As the vast throng
of witnesses comprehended the fright
ful tragic spectacle, a thrill of in
tense horror, spread through them,
as from among them issued one wide
spread suppressed groan of agony,
for all seemed too horror-stricken to
shriek. From the instanf of the dis
aster to the balloon till he struck the
ground Avas not more than fifteen
minutes as measured oil' on the Avatch
dial by the second hand. At a height
of rive or six hundred feet from the
earth the unfortunate man got sepa
rated from the basket in fact it ap
peared as if he leaped from it inten
tionally. This certainly- made no
difference as to the fatality of the
fall. The concussion must haAe kill
ed him just as quickly had he struck
the earth with the basket beneath
him. Wonderful as it may seem,
from the time he sprang from the
basket, his position in the air remain
ed erect, feet doAvn, till he struck,
notwithstanding the greater weight
oi the head and body, which causes
most human I todies to turn and fall
head lirst. With terrific violence he
crashed upon the earth, feet down,
his legs driven uj in his body, and
all but his head being mashed into a
sickening, quiAering mass of spout
ing blood, protruding bones, and
dropping liesh. His feet stuck into
the earth several inches. He struck
a few feet from the jail Avail, only
about eighty rods from the A ery spot
Avhore he Avent up. Down came the
basket right after him, aud his hat
came Avaveiing doAvn.
Astound ing lteiort.
rxnEAKD of noimoiis in a i.c??atiQ
ASTIiL'M.
The Boston Post says.- A mosfi
horrible and almost incredible con
dition of affairs in ihe Vermont In
sane Asylum is described in the re
port of the Legislative Committee
appointed to investigate the manage
ment of that institution. The com
mittee's first discoA-ery Avas that the
asylum, Avhich is controlled by a
private corporation Avas greatly OAer
crowded, 185 patients being packed in
a space intended to accommodate but
300 at the most. This, however, ia
but a trilling matter in comparison
Avith other revelations. Seventy-five
of these unfortunates were thrust
aAvay in subterranean dungeons, dark
damp, foul and perAaded with unen
durable stenches. Some Ave re con
fined in apartments nine feet by four
in size, Avith air and A entillation only
through augur holes bored in the5
doors. The active as Avell as passive
inilietions put upon these poor peo
ple proved equally inhuman. Among
them Avas the punishment of the bath
in which the patient securely bound,
is placed in a 1 lathing tub and a con
tinuous stream of cold Avater allowed
to fall upon his head. This torture it
may be remarked in passing, Avas one
of the most excruciating in the dark
ages, resulting usually in insanity or
death. To this asylum of horrors
the committee also state that sane
men have been confined through
fraud aud bribery. The picture is
as complete as Charles lteade could
make it, but Aviihout the romance at
fiction. The reality is something for
the Legislature of Vermont to deal
with promptly and severely; for it
is too disgracful for belief, except as
attested by an official investigation
such as has produced this astound
report. Had Him There. A gentleman
who Avas riding in a railroad car was
asked bv the conductor of the train
to shoAV his ticket. "My face is m.v
ticket," he ansAvered" " Very well,"
replied the conductor, "I am author
ized bv the company to punch all tick
ets. But Avho are vou any way?' he
added. ' ' I am a director of this road,
sir." returned the gentleman, "and
nn, also authorized by the company
to keep all conductors from
'iOV'H.
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