franklin gazette. - nys historic...

FRANKLIN GAZETTE.I'aaltrraHc ittichmruUu tbe Cause of Jeffcrsonian Democracy, and uncompromising support of thePrineiplei of P#epab!iran Freedom a ad Progreu

By F. D. FLINDERS. Mai one, N. Y., Thursday, December 5, 1850. Vol. XIH.-No. 5.

* • pr i f i («< l

Tkii Kraiklli tia/ttten J p u n h n h r d * v#*r v T h ur«<lii y , at

Fr i n k l m < ' in i i i t v , N Y . .

« , * ( r « * i . u i i went of <h« C o u r t H o i m r ,

ai Chur< h.

stm* O H O D o l l a r a n d Kiff jr < ' « n t * i n a r i v i i n r r .» D o l l a r * if I H H ( l a id m <t< lvanr« . M f t t l mi bur r t-

D o l l a r , r « j * ^ i n ail

of o n e ««f|*irtrf» or

« b r « « W f t f i k * fur o u r 9 1 . n m l 2% <rrnf* for r u r h m i h

• • « | u « r t t i f i « f i r r i . in A h l i r r .il i ! i*r<>urit mncle f o t h o i n

w h o ( i < f v r r u « r t»y ?hr y n i r

C a r d H.

J U P i ^Druggists fc Apothecary Merchants,

D K A 1 . K K . * i n (• r in r i n « t , 1,1'fi [ I n - 1 , ItotitM mi t l S h o rS h . i f l i i M k n t N 1 K I I M , L n | i i o i s \ V V I I H ' H , T r r h j i u r r

J Knd hi

J W

fU i 11 I r a

1 - l » « r , I ' rnt ik l l i t € ' • . , N. W.4 N u n u K , \ V I ,

PARMELEE fc FITOH,

IuM.; , MUNM.IN < O . , N. T.

.Muni i i in- i , ov#r Andrua ».V I*f*wiii*

P O K T R V .

^ ali^htiirg <m thn mainmastof th^ Tnrofhais whilo «niling cmt of Nisw YorkHarbor, NMIIKI tbr 0»lif\>rt»ia,

BY HON.UA LYONt OF I.YONHPAI.B.

()h( blrwMnl l)ir<U of jwaco ami hojH\ wliat tidings do

yu bring,'!'<» glad ua in our aorrow as upon the mast ye cling ?

it IA an oin#ii Uiai our fJup sluill reach tho

when tho utormy seasAnd fortune crown ourart* oVr

hinl that told to Noah that tho deluge flood

wanAnd rent and havm w * » mmire upon tho land at

Kf»rm of tliat lovrty apirit which o'or our Saviour

ahono,When by tlio Jonlnn'R water* h© stood by John al(»no.

'Twan y« wbu brought the iniHsivtu of the stern cru-

A . H I ' • KM Kl Kl.: I'lliWAUD KlTCII.

J. It. F l a n d r r s ,I t lornry . Solicitor, und f o u n w l l o r ,

i J I « 11 n f i . | i , i n\\ • u i l r t M n t i i H t i i i t n r * * r r i f r t m t r d t<>

, • m l J M . I < M< * i n i n w

O r V •«• r « « r « i d r . . f

M « l o r i r | ' ' r * i t k l u i (

, nr|f th« Raif Kond

When o ' ^ th# plains of \Mrnlon the battle tide WAH

roIlM;And told rf treachery and crime ill CoMir <le Lion's

ear.

Which tnftde him tremble more than e'en Haladin'a

i e d *pear.

TALES, ESSAYS, Etc

And wonls were sent by ye from many a battle

. N. Y

Law Copartnership,* ' ' " • I \\w\ '• I O M I H ' J n i ' >pnf t n r r « d i Ji

plain,

I ' l l A vi

4ntMryt \ I I I I i * t

« » I h r m I I i 11 #• « v - r i ! < ' i r f i ••! ( I i d S 1 n ! r n m l i d I f i r

I ' m t - d t ' t ' » i I d r y < i l l l » r l o u m l ( i t f l i r < M l i r r i n

i U m W i \ \ » % £ * i » l \ | I ' . H I C t i t * I v • » ' ** i f | n r d l » y J I H k ^ < » H i t '

f l a l l f i i . t » j » n j ( >, • ! , • ( 1 , i , H ; , 0

f I I J \ < K S o \ f

H H I N I I I ' T T M N .

ALIIKKT nouns

m coWANT.

\K A• • •

To tltom* who loved too fondly, and thoHu who lovedill vain.

Hy ininntrel und l»v troul»adour thy pramcm have been

HUHg,

. \ ( i i n i / ( i i i a a J iimmcllotB, u n d e r ifu ^ t i l l t h y n a m e 'A a w o r d of k i n d n e a a w h o m g l o w « t h e

C h r i s t u m ' * mm.

J u r l u o n . II111 t o it A- II <»l>h%.lVr**ere*4 form of tender ^niee, bird of the OrvrlcH, i«

thine,An when from her ye wprun^ to life, iienide tho Del

phir nhnne,('ompiuiion of tlie early MowerH and Cupid* fl chariot

eer,Unto the Ve*tulH of the Hast thoti wert revered and

dear.Why ranie ye at the moment when the ties of love

are torn 1

And fn«>nd»liip'ft cord* are broken riml on the breezesborne,

Why <ame ye at thia moment, when the motherela*!** IHT ohild,

And pray* that Ood wdl guard him upon the water**wild*

Ye come to cheer our ppit it*, a* * token from the «ky,When the thunder rei^nn in triumph, and the liurri-

<*ane Kweepn by ;When the wen IH madly ra^in^ and tho lightning ^lit

torn bright,Thou nit thought of, blended Presence, and our heavy

heart* aro li^ht.

Oar I nlon.

n\ MUM !.. II. KHiOCRNEY.

l ln f Kaglo of our Iwided States,Wilt drop thine olive fair:

And bid tin* *haftfl of war and woSpeed burntn>^ through the air i

And the fMMirinic eagle aimwered,

Waving hm pearo branch hi^h," No! Freedom'* ehieftauiH gave the truat—

111 truard <t till I die."

nt l.nw<̂ 4 i ' N k , H I 4 U I I N i •! , V ' V

P • r« i <- ri I • i n M i- I I 111 • I I p i u d i n i h i ' r • •! | n r i m

X" ( >r r h t , ( vv » I i U K r :i« f <•( I'* i »• 11 I ' M M I r h f l l t g r .

J. 0. SponcerA t li>t ttf i/ ti mi ( '<nntst I In / (i t [.(fir,

b it It 1 ( ' ( > \ I N (I I 11 \ ; . N V .

«. r. B\TI:S.. s i K i . 1:« » N A N D I ' l l Y S H ' I A N .

R « t ( « # ! ••• '1 - . f •• " i f h n ( I , < * . I / n ( h r o p ' N ,

i > ( 5 ' r l i t M « - i t m l ' . I . 1 W O l l i i r .

Darlq's Anilnan llrave Hcinnly,

A V r t r i failing f'tttr hn Ur>tvrM, I'hu k mtld Ht itkf n

W'm I ' » / < / ? f ' n u g h i , I n f f t t m * n t t f t n n o f / A t

/ u >t ̂ • ' C h i i/ / / < / i i r < i i r v irSuh n ffr< ( the

utttit of II n*r* ,4lgt4 /<>$ Hot*

( i N « / W>>f mn

i *

U A M I \ I I • . ' l . - i . i • '• 'I I « M '

» ! t « t » >>i * i k i n , I > M - p ( > p > r ( i ' > n <»{ l i t

, > i M I , h i ' M M > i i i n i n . i n * p n r

o f i t * f i t » r

n n d j j f « < r h i l

h i t t y r « « M i f i r K

• I t i f i ( < i r i h * i t i i r ' •' f * M " ' *' n i i ' J n n f i i l m j j w i n d , r n u

( • I i 111,* f ! i i « » n i«» m i I • t i [ > u r n ' '» I a !»• I T W H I l i i i r j ^ t i r .

N <i M r " h i i < l ' » n i - i n i . N { • > • t i n * h i >) ft«> o f l U v A m i ) ,

' • n i M r t h « >i t < H I ' I 11 M I '» ( I <i f « i •»> I i t M l h i t I n i ( * U p r r H > M

' F i . » w l i h U ' » • • l« i t n i U ' i H ' i l I . \ c i y | H I « I * I M « > n i i f > o m l

• ( « » n ' i M I i i p ^ t i i t l i i i n ( n < * f o n l y : <» n v o f l u i t t i r i n

* v o | i ( t r I V I I * I I ' f M ' i f < •).[ i r f -i i | » n t j i i n n ' M y rtml f ^ u n l i t y

" ( 1 1 1 4 1 . 1 . p I _ h i * rt 1 < > i n i m ' i i n * 1 I t i i n M I n l i r • 11 I i v < < > n

^ i n I ( , » n i M t t i n * p j i i f t i , t <d i l m f ( n t i n l r y , w i n c h

v i ' n ri 11 i i n j i K M 11 f « f t i i f M ( l i e I I I I K M I ^ | » ! r v r i i ' p i r i n d

i U f f f f i | r r . m j ( i i n - ' l l ' i " I ' i f i l i ^ f i U V i ' o r ^ H f l N , M I I | i t O V P S

! ' ! • n i i j i r l i U ' , ^; i ^ t i i n I h e i ' ' . » ' it •' I n k f i n d n f l l M I I I ^ n|>

I i n i i f « n < •• , | M « \ i ' i i l ' l m i l l I U l i H M ' n k r l l \ V | | ) d , ^ O H ^ h ,

l l n v r t , \ r 'Y>wn p r < - | m i it* m n I M H I m m m o M umv n

i n n i g l l i n \ f « ( » « , ^ l » ' > I i * <l i t ' " l i i r i f l i o r « i r * ! h r •* r o r

t M M M I N O M a v * * « r , ' " " ) > » " ? I I v \ n k a l a t i m e , a n d I N

w i t h i h r » m t . * n *n • 1 * * r • I <\

t ' N I V K K H M r n S h l l l u N M t i i i J l ' I N K .

T h < i \ I I I H i n l l r n v n N m i n d y w nn i m r o d u r r v t i n l n

K i i ^ l i n d •> >n\r y m r a n j ; n , l»v M r l > f i r l e y o f Y < » r k

hitt, w I m p( -M n r t ' d l l i r ' i n r i p t t m n l f i l l A r n h ' i n

o r < ' f i i« I , ( m m w h o m \\v pur< l i n n r d a h o r n *

hi<i f » " " d« n« r i n My r u i , it n d w r i r l i f i r n f f < u

* v « t d « i m p > r r r d i<> I ' i t i ^ U t i d , m i d k n o w n nn i h f i 4 P u r

I.- f A r a I n a n , ' f i n o v\ fut h 'tpr M ft^r t h r i n r ^ r a t a n d m o * I

• p l r M t t l t d I m m c t r w r U i m v % n M r M n r l # * y o a r d \hr

\ r i % m a n f f r n v r K r n i » d y n m > n ^ f n a I m t m M - h r o w n

• I a r v o t a l v n l u t i h l r ntxti i rlr\*rn\%u\ r i l c r h o m r N — f o r

m a n y y r n m , n o d ^ n v n M i r i n c l | » l t o a n U l t i m a t e

f f i r n d , « n n i n i i i M i i V • ' I n i o n r y S u r y * • m i , w h o h k f ' W n r

ia»id i i I«• r H i ' v r i n l y r u i H w i t h i o i r n i i k » l» ln pn< r r a a ,

A n 1 * • mn a I I r n ^ i l l i n I m # d A M h #» a o l i r i I n\ i o n o i m n n y

' • (x i i it u p I 11 |" r I I « m l 11 * o 11 •« v i r I u r n R O O D t t r r o r i t r

^ I M W I I I I H I i I i 'i i»- > \v «i- >l 11 »'( I r n ' i i f r l y I hr •»u^h<Mi t t hf»

I I I I U I S K m p i M * . l - ' i i f t f n o d ( . i r m n i i v , w h f r f if m

i in 4 l a n ' l i r d i ' i m c ly I n rill i t i t T n n m w h i c h a f l t r t i h r

r «'•(») i I I (>o v' " U " * n » i " I t h o l l « n ' . r , p n r l i r t t l a r I y fo r I

l l o n v t ' n n o d M i - . k n n W i n d I t ia i n f a r t ih#» o n l y j r r

l ) i r i d m i i i p m i w l i u l i n n y d r p r n d r n r ^ r a n h o [ d a r r d

o n i | i l a . i n a f(»r w h t r h t i .-%

and aup#*rtority ofl*hAr» !nan f l r n v r K r m r d y ovrr all oih^r

I n Mimilnr purp^r***, ruhor in lliia Cnunlrv ordni rd ua f n a ppl f in t h •» K Proprietor

i / t i ' d M i n u l i i i n r o n n d *n\r h>r thf l U n t l r d

I h i * i i | (h f w r h n v n <d> in in rd , a n d tl*»w o f f r r

p n ' d n i l io i imni v i i l i m t d o Mora l * I M f ( l l < i n r

h in*n i l^ nut n t n n l in m n v m r n a l l of ita f»l

Ye wtaiM tliat vliim* in npnrkling bluoUpon your luitifur'd field —

Shall halt IM» stricken from your place,And half in cloud* concealed?

If111 silent were those glorious orbnt

With dread amazement fraught—Kuch trembling in its crystal sphere

At the dark traitor thought

Oh, human hearts, to concord trainedHy Kire* who stood of yorov

At l>rotherH, when around their homesTho Lion trmriif>ed in gore:

Will ye tho heritage they won,With ruthiesA hand* divide?

Or rend the (Jordiau knot they drewAround you when they died f

Thru from the Pater Patrin*** tomb,

HcneiUh Mount Vernon'* nhade —And from the hero'* bed who sleepn

In Nashville's tteauteoiis glade -And from green Quincv's honest breast.

Where air*' and won re post v-—" llre^k not that band!"-—a solemn voice

In deep accordance- roae.

Mark '• hark ' o'er forrsts rofn>d in snow—In sunny, flower -crowned vales—

From where the Atlantic's thunder ton©T>... f*r Pacifir hail* ,

From mart, ami doll, whero millions dwell,Hy prnirie, lako and hill—

Rolls on the full, sublime response,

NKVKR, NKVCR WII.I.

ftrary Wr p u t p r i m vorv low m t>rdf»r

for the T O M * .

HK POLITIC. Study the graces; not the graces oftin* dancing ma*tor, of }>owiug and scraping ; nor thofoppiah, mfirlrl etitjuette (»f a Chesterfield, but be

fNn gnmniio nrtir lr , on finch packtgs of

( h a t a l l n i ' i v l i « v o i n o p p o r n n i i y t o m a t Ma

N <* prvr<ti*ri w f i o n w i i n a l i u r n e xh«»u1i| !x» w i t h o u t i t .

T A # / f f i i A i n n llfdv* f\rmrdy \n p u t u p i l l p n r k i f f

* .ritftiiimff ni ' . rr than h.ill • p m i m l , »- r h f u p r r , rr j • " • v o ! r n n \ t h ^ ̂ raer« <»f the heart , w h a t e v e r th ings ,

• pniAc ^inaltrr (!o«r«, «n<l ( * warr«ni r< l «np#rmr tn | are true, hone*t f j i iMt t pure, lovely , and of good retM»rt. |«,,y i . ihrr p r r j . . r» t i . .n of thr k ind «n u*r; nor m it n r . , T]w t r | u , ̂ . ^ o f po l j tenew i«, ̂ > pl«M«e, to m a k e ir n i M r f ih * t t hr» h.iran hn k^p! from w o r k i n g whi lo , n r i r i . ^ i

1 i «»appy flowing from goodness of heart—a fountain !

IMTOHT \ N T ('•Miimi It i* nwrmmmry thuf pur | °^ *OV(*-should hr pnrttriilnr nnd rrmtmbfr ih« mmf , j Hr CIVIL. - When the rich Quaker wan oaked the. Am,i.rmn H*«v* R*m*d* and not bn put , w r n i t o f h m MU(TOWI i n , i fw ,H, M l g w c r w | -(Uvility,

o f f U y l > r » o t i / < < • ! « ! « h » » • o n i M i f i m j r r | « a m a * g o o d o r 1 r . ^

t.nir«r n ^ « r !>rl,, v . . . . , -h i t o n r . , but w t i «h«t r o n f r i f i n i 1 ' < i v i l l t y s < » ' » « |MH»,JO a r e u n c i v i l , mnir f Bill

len, mon»m», rrablm], really clowninh and impudent..Ktm from Mich, an for your life. "He«wt thou a manwwe in ki« own conceit f There is more hope of afool than of him."

RE KINI> TO KvKRYRoitv.— Thero i« nothing likokiiMlneM, it sweeten* everything. A single look of

" ^ . n t , M.Ian. , .nd for m\r ,n I<>V^ * mM"' * ̂ ^ P <lf th° *"* h < W ̂ ^ ^ m m

,„ i h . Hi.i#. M.v i>. IHM) ly frim«l« than \**h wealth and kami r« .

n ftlfR Jlr Pf lRK When v . nee a penwm very choice of his worda,

i UU ft Ot I " IIA i and vtrj daintr ml Ubit, and jet capable of iiuultingl j K ^ r W FANOBOllN * C # . ^ ™**ximf*: ™ n d i c u » * d i a t m ^ we alway,

l l ~ 1 - <»f the RAA in the lion'n akin.

pwhtrh will tir mind our wrtttrn

prim 5<) rnnta por parkave.

J W KTUKTKVANT,; II A«ft Majrrrlhia>, Oruinfla^r« co. N . Y . ,

tnr lh«» Mt. i r , to whom i l l ortlrrt

J W

?OR

[From Chami>or8' Edinburgh Journal.J

THE DEATH WARNING.A Legend of Sato Island.

BY PIERCY B. BT. JOHN,

Of all the great centres to which strangecharacters are attracted, Paris is perhaps themost remarkable, verv much, apparently, be-cause of the encouragement given in it to o-riginnl talent. Clever and enterprising Amer-icans nre often met there. One whom 1 late-ly encountered proved to be a pleasant andconversible man. We chanced to get uponthe aubject of superstition, or rather, to speakmore fairly, on matters pertaining to what hasbeen called the night side of nature.

" I expect you love a yarn ; I'll just giveyou one which is genuine, I'm not a super-stitious man, but to the contrary. Hut I'llgive you nn item of new country fancies whichwill amuse you/'

I shall not preserve the energetic words ofmy American friend, as some of them wouldbe difficult of comprehension in our part ofthe world ; but I give the facts of his narra-tive exactly n« they were told.

Saco is a small town at a very short dis-t»nce from the sea, in the state of Maine, fa-mous only within a circumference of a fewmiles in connection v% ith the Labrndor fishery,nnd also as the nursery of an industrious, hardworking Ret of shipwrights nnd fishermen.—In the early history of the State of Maine,mention is made of Saco Island as the site ofan Indian village ; but local tradition givesmore ample details relative to the ejectionof the Red Skins from the place. Hut withthis I have nothing to do, except incidentally,as will be seen in the course of my narrative*.

Abel Jncks, mv informant, was the son ofa working shipbuilder of Saco, a pushing, in-dustrious man, who in times of thriving busi-ness, And when a pressing jot) was on hand,would work eiyjht days without taking off hisclothes. He lived in a house just above thetown, the front of which faced the islandwhich parted the river, variously known usCut Ii and Saco island, Abel was his young-est son ~nt the time we ppenk of a man oftwenty. About a dozen yards distant fromtheir residence, was an old, tumble downshanty, which had been abandoned for manyyears. A murder had been committed withinits wnlls R long time ngo, and people said thatever since noises were htird at midnight a-round its ruins —a troubled cry of consciencefrom the criminal. No man was ever foundbold enough to reside in it again, until a poorwidow, Curtis by name, obtained leave tomake it. hor home.

Widow Curtis WHS as superstitious nnd fear-ful as her neighbors, perhaps even more so,for she firmly believed in death warnings.—The once glad mother of nine children, shehad lost eight, and before the real news reach-ed her, she always bad a warning. It is true,that her signs and tokens came very much of-tener even than bad news, but us bad newsdid sometimes follow her hints from the otherworld, she hrtd sufficient reason for her belief.She found herself at last with only one child,a daughter of eighteen, who was at serviceon Cuth island, in the house of Squire Sheen ;and to be near this beloved child, the widowtook up her quarters in the haunted shanty,which lo her sacred heart had now no terrors.

Mr. Jacks was kind to the poor widow,gave her some furniture, and assistance invarious other forms ; nnd she was grateful.—A great part of her time was spent in thehouse of the shipwright, whose son Abel waswarmly attached to her daughter Martha, whowas indeed to be his wife that very fall. Forsome months the widow had been quiet andhappy ; the thought of her child's advantage-ous marriage had driven gloomy ideas fromher head, nnd her cheerful state of mind, theassidious kindness of the Jacks had also tend-ed to promote.

One afternoon a tremendous storm startledthe good people of Saco, and filled them withalarm. Saco rfver was lined with sawmills,the owners of which floated their timber andplanks down by its waters. But just abovethe town a huge boom lay across the stream,to check the rafts, nnd to protect the bridges,which connected Cuth fslanis, with the twoshores. Once in the memor) of man a fresh-et had carried away the boom, and given pas-sage to the vast weight of timber, which com-ing with terrific violence against the bridges,had utterly destroyed them. The storm onthis occasion was followed by the rapid swelling of the river, and about four o'clock thebooni *av# way ; the mountain* of planks andlog* brought down by the inundation rushedmildly through, and all communication be-tween the island and the town was cut off.—The timber plunged with irresistible force o-ver the falls below the island, carrying thebridges away with it.

The roar of the blast, the rushing of thewild waters, the crash of lo«js, the plunging ofmasses of wood over the two cataracts, therunning to and fro of the people, all roused inpoor Widow Curtis feelings of terror and a-larm ; and about sunset she came into thehouse to old Jacks, and told him she had re-ceived A death-warning relative to her lastchild. Tears streamed down her palid cheeks,and her whole mien was that of n broken-hearted woman. Both old Jacks and Abelsought to comfort her in every possible way.They tried ridicule, they tried reason ; but allin vain ; the widow still declared she hidheard the never-failing warning.

"And what was it like?" suddenly criedold Jacks.

M A low screech, like the cry of pain/' re-plied the widow.

"Tush, woman, you hare heard the squnwof Cuth island. Sho never fails to howl withthe tempest/*

" And who, prav, wai the squaw of Cuthisland V

Old Jacks drew the widow to the table, lithis pipe, poured out a glass of beer, and aftera vigorous hem, began his story. Before thesettlement of white men round the borders ofSaco river, the island was inhabited by awhole tribe of Indians. An old fellow of thename of Cuth, wished to establish a saw andflour mill in the place, bought the site of theIndians, who, on the receipt of the purchase-money, decamped in accordance with theirword. Old Cuth then crossed over to the isl-and to select the spot whereon he wished tobuild ; but to his astonishment he found anaged squaw") lyho refused to depart. She dedared that in the general distribution shehad been left out, and demanded a share ofthe purchase-money of the white tnan him-self. Cuth then gave her a bottle of rum,which she eagerly tasted, and then leapinginto h«r canoe, hurried across to join hertribe. But w|hether the rum had affected herhead, or whether age had rendered her limbstoo wtak to ejonlend with the current, couldnot be known, but she was drawn into the rap-ids, and over the falls, where of course shewas drowned. From that day the island pointwas believed to be haunted by the sqqawspirit; and there wan scarcely a man, woman,or child in Saco but would declare havingheard the moaning of the old crone bdtbfe andduring all storms.

11 Maybe," said Widow Curtis, when oldJacks had concluded, 4t maybe 'tis the squawhas given me every warning?"

'* Nonsense, Mother Curtis; all nonsenseand flummery. And yet I nm boOnd to belicve in ghosts, too. I aint a superstitiousman, nohow, but I've been tried, too. Onenight I was at work till late at the Lower Fer-ry, and after work I joined a merry making.

still and move not. The fall i* swelled bythe rain, and the white rock is hidden. Thatis a dear girl! Move not for your life! —Adieu!"

No more words were spoken. Martha, asshe was bid, lay at full length in the bottomof the slight bark canoe, and the next instantwas sucked into the rnpids. Round and roundwent the frail bark, and then, entering thevery centre of the quick flowing stream, itdarted along, nnd WAS lost sight of over thefalls. Abel pulled like M madfann for theshore, guiding his boat slightly up stream.

M My child ! my child !" cried the agonizedmother, AS he leaped upon the bank.

" Boy,M said his father severely, " whathave you done with Martha?"

41 Father, stay me not ! Martha is in thehands of Providence. Follow me, and a fewminutes will decide her fate!"

The mother nnd Abel's whole family ranwith the young man along the shore, follow-ing the portage of the falls. They soon reach-ed the nook in which lay the boat used by theJacks for fishing under the cataract. AsAbel expected, the high tide and the greatvolume of waters considerably lessened theheight of the fall, which was also wider thanusual.

" Where is my child ?" cried Widow Curtisonro more.

Abtl made no reply, but leaping into theboat, pulled Hcr^^^^Ktream. The two falls,

^ ^ ^ Cuth island, made ofstrong current in this part ofwhere the two currents met,

leracted the other, And the vol-water being very great, three back-

W one going back to the islandpoint, the other two along shore. Abel pull-

one on

ft wn« pflst twelve when I started home. Eve- ! (»d for the still water in the centre, and in a ferything was square and straight until I got to minutes had the intense satisfaction of seeingthe road near the chinch yard ; then I dis j the frail boat lying motionless on the very

no minister to *nf foreign court wrequire him at any tinse to appear in tny 6ttarthan that plain civilian drets which the Con-stitution and customs of oar country piwctib*to him who receives the nation'* guests at tb*White House in Washington.

tinctly heard the ru*tling%of a silk dress closeto me. " Come out of that," said I, " and nopoking fun at me !>f I got no answer; andAWAy I slashes in the bushes with a big hick-ory stick ; all to no good. The rustling ofsilk was still close to me as ever. I was in aprecious rage with myself, I do own ; but Iheard it plainly enough. At last it came tothe bridge; and you know the ends of theplanks stick out beyond the rail to save saw-ing off. What do I see but An old fellowwalking Along these ends, beside me, in anold silk morning gown. " Good night to you,Sam Jficlfs," said he. I returned his polite-ne*fe; ftfdjfl then he began to ask news of Sacotown, aiid of people dead and gone: thesetwenty year?. He seemed surprised when I

edge of the eddy." Martha !" he cried, in a low agonized

voice.No answer was given, and in a few minutes

more he was alongside. There she lay inthe pale moonlight, as calm as nn infant onits mother's breast, but to all appearance life-less. Abel lifted her hurriedly into his boat,And sprinkled her marble face with water.—A deep sigh, a low wailing sound of pain,and then a burst of tears and laughter, pro-claimed the victory of youth and nature overdeath.

" Oh, Abel, how have I been saved ?ff saidthe trembling and agitated girl, clasping herlover's two hands.

By thy courage and trust in Providence,told him they were all departed ; nnd at the dear Martha," replied Abel, in a low tone;end of tl*e bridge we separated. Now, Wid-| and these two simple, unsophisticated chil-ow Curtis, I know I did see all this, nnd yet'dren of nature knelt, «nd with the roaringold Sam Jacks knoWs precious well there was I cataract on each side, and the placid sky a-nobody t^ere. It was nothing but fancy and j bove, prayed to the Ood of their hearts,j _ !. _ i -i ! i J ,M " Let us go to my mother," said Martha,

after An instant's pause; and Abel, withoutanother word, struck out for the shore. Therrieeling formed n most exciting scene. Tearsand questions, and thanks nnd laughter, werestrangely mingled with each other, And thenthe whole party returned to the house of oldJacks.

It appeared that Martha, knowing hermother's character, and aware of the influ-

poar mother, " if that was not Martha's voice, c nre of a storm upon her mind, had deter-it was her spirit. | ruined, as soon AS the moon rose, to cross over

Abel had heard the cry ; it WAS a shriek of j 8 m ] reAssure the widow as to her own safety,despair, so clear, so distinct, no man could ! Rhe took her master's bark canoe, and start-hesitate or doubt. The night was now calm : jn̂ r H good way Above the site of the bridge,and still, nnd the moon shone brightly over the ; began pulling' ncrosa. When well in thewhole scene. A boat lay moored within an j streAm, a beam of wood checked her progress,indentation of the river at the young man's J Eager to push it from her path, she let go herfeet. He gazed rapidly round. Ju*t above paddles, which she hAd forgotten to fAsten on

w %J

deceit, and so was the noise you heard. Cheerup, old girl, Martha's all right!"

But the widow was not to be satisfied.—The old man's stories rather excited her imagination, and she declared that every instantshe felt rrore sure that Martha was gone.—About midnight she started towards home,and Abel went along the water-side with her,to say a few words of comfort

" Did you hear that ?" suddenly said the

the point of the island he saw a small canoe,nnd a person standing upright in it—a womanwith her hands clasped, as if in prayer. Thecanoe was hurrying down the stream, thoughnot yet in the rapids. A lover's glance is noteasily deceived. It was Martha ! Tc leap in-ttf^ttte boat, to push out towards the canoe,and to begin rowing with the energy of min-gled love and despair, was the work of a sin-gle instant. The widow sank down upon herknees on tke bnnk.

The riv«r was wide, and the current strong,while just below were the rapids. Abrl wasalmost within their influence, and toon foundit necessary to pull up stream to avoid beingsucked in. When ag-nin he turned the bow ofhis boat aqross, the canoe was not more thanfifty yards above the spot where he lay, andwns coming with extreme velocity.

" Courage, dear Martha/' cried the youngman ; f< Abel is at hand."

411 dropped my paddles, Abel, while get-ting away from the snag."

4t Check the canoe with your h^ndu, d*argirl. Put them in the water. Every inchgained is talunble."

*' I am going too quickly, Abel, You cannever save me. Is that my dear mother onthe bank?"

The two boats were drawing near, whileboth were selling down with great velocity onthe rapids. Martha was in a light bark canoe,which lay almost on the surface of the water.A few minutes more, and Martha and Abelwere parallel to each other, at a distance ofabout a dozen yards. Abel leaped to his feet,and looked around. They were within thirtyfeet of the rapids, and two hundred feet ofthe falls, in the middle of the stream. Allhope of Abel's catching the canoe was nowgone. Sht, it seemed, couid not be aaved.—They could only be lost together. The youngman gazed at the moonlit isle, the shore, hisfather's htan*, the aged mother kneeling onthe shore, while old Jacks find bis motherstood motionless near the threshold of theirhouse.

" Martha," cried Abel, in a voice calm andcollected, though husky, " act with courageand spirit. One minute! and we part per-baps forever. Rouse all your eourage, thinkof your mother and of your future husband,and let the thought give you the energy of aman. Lie down qpickly in the canoe; be

the rollor^ks, and they fell into the stream.—She caught desperately at the snag, but invnin ; and then she gave the wailing crywhich mother and lover had both heard.

Old Jacks Wr'irmly commended Abel's pret-ence of mind in giving the advice he did, butfur more the calm courage of Martha in fol-lowing it, while all felt that, under any cir-icumstanc*a, the escape was next to miracu-lous. Old Jacks insisted on Martha's returning no more to service ; and taking upon him-self the duties of patriarch, decided that themarriage should be celebrated two monthssooner than was originally intended. A weeklater, Abel and Martha were man and wife;and, to judge from their pre**nt solid aftection and genuine happiness, they have neverforgotten their one terrible trial. Abel lovesto tell his story, buteays that now it is in myhyrnds, he stands a good chance of hearing,•• We have seenwhich I hereby

that in print;" n prophecyprove to be correct. Old

Jacks and the widow are now dead, and 8acois a large place, but thongh our worthy coupie have been now fourteen years married,they remember as it were yesterday, theirown legend of Saco Island.

EepaMlcaa Dipleaacjr*

Elihu Burritt makes some sensible rtmarkeon the gim crackery in which our Minister*always rig themselves on every official occa-sion. Why don't they imitate Dr. Franklin,and go in plain Republican costume?

" It does strike me as directly misrepresent-ing the dignity and duty of the great Ameri-can Republic, when its representatives at for-eign courts put themselves into cocked hats«nd mongrel military coats, and * tights9 of be-diddled plush, nnd hung with long awkwardswords, which they would be ashamed to wearat home, and take upon them other airs andboyish gewgaws, in order to dance attendanceon either royalty or aristocracy. I hope thepeople of the United States will look to tiltsmatter, and will demand that those whom tbeysend abroad lo represent their nation's digni-ty, shall comport themselves consistently withtheir high vocation, and don no livery beforeKings or Queens, or the minor potentates orprincipalities, of Europe, on any occasion. Sostrongly does the impropriety of this deport-ment take boM of my own mind, that if I werePresident of the United States, I

LTAH.

[From the Hartford CourantJThe whole character of the Territory of Utak

is sioguh}r. Its situation is unlike that of s&jrother section of North A Ulrica—its originand the manner of ita MUWmeat DO ltt»straage. Tbe name Utah ia given now to »Urg* extent of territory bounded by Califor*nia, Oregon, New Mexico, and what was for*roerly termed the great Western territory. Itis of sufficient dimensions to be separated intoseveral States, provided in future ages ittpop*ulation shall warrant it. But many part* ofit so partake of a peculiar construction a§ torender it, for the present at least, uninhabita*ble. Passes, through precipitous mountains*whose tops are covered with snow, and wbos#sides are but rocks, exist, it is true, but theyare mostly narrow valleys of the most aridand sterile kind, their surfaces covered withincrustations of bitter salt, and their whol#vegetation a giant species of sage, of no earth-ly use but to be consumed as fuel. In th#midst of these icy mountains, through whichthere is no access but by these pusses, arid insummer and choked with snow for five monthsof the year, lies a tract of land, elevated somefour or five thousand feet above the level ofthe sea, called the Great Basin, which fur*nishes thu habitable part of tho territory. Iadifferent parts of this Basin the Morraoos bateestablished their home, probably at firit withthe idea that they would be cut off from all tbarest of the world by the natural difficulties ofthe contiguous territory And the peculiarity oftheir situation. Here they expected to form,in secrecy and silence, the germs of a great,peculiar, religious empire; but the stream ofCalifornia emigration discovared their trailand inundated their principality, snd they arenow the open, exposed #< half-way house" tothe Pacific.

This Basin is some five hundred and sixtymiles in diameter, has its own system of lakesand rivers, and has no known communicationwhatever with the S?A9 unless the existence ofthe whirlpools in the 8alt Lake, which are re*ported to be lately discovered, should proir#an internal communication with the Pacific, ofwith some spring or lake in the lower coun-try. In the northern part of the Basin liesthe G reat Salt Lake. Tbe waters of this sheetare shallow, 90 far as explored ; though prob*ably its central parts will be found very deep.fts waters are intensely salt, more so tnan theocean—three gallons making one gallon of thepurest, whitest And finest salt. Sontheaft ofthis lake, shut in by the mountains, lies th#Mormom Valley that contains their cspital ci-ty, by some c*flled the Great Salt Lake City;by others, Mormon Chy. This valley is thirtymiles by twenty-two, connected to anothervalley which i« about fifty miles by eight.—These two valleys contain the principal bodyof the settlers, to the number of twenty thou-sand. Explorers think that they are capableof supporting a population of a million.

Fifty miles south of the city is the UtahLake and Valley. Here lies tbe city of Proror

on the Provo river. The lake is pure water,eight miles by four, and abounds in fish. Ther*is still another valley one hundred miles fur-ther south, called San Pete, where there \€another settlement; and here we find the hier-oglyphic ruins, the remains of glazed pottery,Ac, that indicate the former existence of tb#outlying cities of tbe Artec Empire.

The soil of all these valleys is astonishinglyproductive, though requiring constantly artifi-cial irrigation from the mountain streams.—*The climate is one of the healthiest, and lh#Air the purest on the continent The neigh*boring mountains rise to the height of a mil*and a half above the valley, and art crownedwith perpetual snow.

The city is laid out in blocks of ten acreseach; eight lots to the block; an acre and mquartet .to the lot; the streets eight rods wide;each ten acre block to be surrounded by as ream brought down from the mountains. Notwo houses front each other; so that, stand*ing in his own door, every man looks into bitneighbor's garden. In the city axe four ftlie squares, to be snymnded by shadfand supplied with fountains.

Such is the delightful place chosen by OMof the most peculiar religious sects whichChristendom contains. Remote from tb*world, from the exercise of external tyranny,and yet connected to our great empire. Itspeculiar locality will prove of imuM*tt ftrnc*as a stopping place for rest, refreshments +o4Lprovisions for the army of i ti fllyear after j w , seek Cafifecu*the Southern Pass; ami wheo t fway in established, it wilTprot» of facaUllabkbenefit as a great station-house 00 the M

Inveterate Habits.—There isfamiliar to o«r daily observation than the pow-er and ioveterscy of habits, insomuch that imjdecided propensity is strengthened by ererfnew act of indulgence, and virtuous piincipWis more firmly established than before by ere*ry new act of reeolate obedience to its dic-tates. Tbe law which connects oar actings ofboyhood or of youth with tbe character afmanhood, is the identical law which connect*our actings 10 time with our character in #Wr*nity.—Dr. Chalmers.

u Sir,* said a pompons personage whoundertook to bully an editor, "do yon 1that I take your paper V9 "Tre noyou do take it," replied tbe roan of the" for several of my honest subscribers twitbeen complaining lately abort their p*pM»being missing in tbe morning/9

Some people take more care to bide Hfctrwisdom than tfcelr folly.