Brookville Inquirer, Volume 1, Number 16, Brookville, Franklin County, 19 April 1833 — Page 1

BROOKVILLE

INQUIR

Vol. I.

BROOKYILLE, (IA.) FRIDAY, APRIL 19, 1833.

No. 16.

rRINTPD AND IHBLISHKD WEKKLV MV C. V. HITCH EX, t $'2 in advance $'2,50 in six months; or $fl,00 at the expiration of the year. pvkrtisemkts. -Twelve li nes, or loss, will be inserted once or three imcs, for one dollar; and '2H cents will he charged for each additional insertion.

FOR THK RHOOKVIM.K I.NQl IKKR. DESULTORY THOUGHTS No. i. Yr. EJtior: Wherever and in whatever situation man may he placed in the world, there will still, (no difference what may he the influence of surrounding circumstances,) be something new, and a variety rf changes, artificial and natural, which, previous to coming in immediate connection, he was au entire stranger. It is one of the most rational conclusions in the world, that the natural situation and peculiarities of location of a country to which he is journeying, will-possess its, little hills and mountains, its brooks and its rivers, its lonesome vallics and its green-clad forests, its beautiful trees and delightful groves, its thick h uled bowers and its retired arbors, while the Elvsian dreams and fields of interminable glory, must follow. Such scenes as these, however, are nv.ire or less the distinguishing characteristics rf nil countries, and in themselves, they are well calculated to impress upon the mind of the wanderer, a more sensible thankfulness for the bountiful profusion of Him, w hose decrees and judgments are eternal. The situation of B rook vi lie is, to say the least, fascinatingly romantic, and perhaps, unequalled by any other village west of the Allegheny Mountains. On a moonlight evening in April or May, it would even seem, w hen "busy t hought is mounted on fairy wing,' that the beholder has vxperienced a sudden transition from a surroun

ding grovelling world, to the Heathen's fancied,

iit mistaken, Elysium, when he feasts Jus eyes

upon inanimate creation "Wherd there is so much simple loveliness

'Mongst the common herbs of pasture they breathe

Out their lives so unobtrusive like fond hearts Whose beatings are too gentle for the world. Go out! spirits of habitual unrest, And read it when the fever of the world Hath made your hearts impatient; and if life Hath yet one spring unpoisoned, it will be Like a beguiling music to its flow! It may be deem'd unmanly, but the wi6C Uesd JWure like the manuscript of Heaven

And call Woman its poetry." Brookville, like Melrose and Charleston, is seen to the best advantage, by the "pale moonlight."

Though the lover of nature will be well compen

sated for the loss ot slumber anil mornings delirious dreams, tosee the sun rise over the eastern lulls, dispersing the thick fogs, and illuming the

higher vapors, and ''trailing clouds of magnifi

cent glory.'7 Were I sufficiently acquainted with the character of the Indianian from the experience and knowledge I posss of human nature from mingling in the busiest scenes of Eastern life, and participating in the largest commercial places in unremitting industry, for upwards of thirty years I would say, that he who acknowledges v!ii 'State to be "His own his native land,''

and whose institutions have formed his charac- ' r, that he is far, very far different from the ankee, or inhabitant of the Middle States, though I do not know that he is a better man. has a portion of the faults of the Yankee, wd possesses all his virtues. It is true, the lat- ' rhas his faults, hi common with all mankind; v. few are manifest in his conduct to his friends, -T'ni gh he. is held to he rather intractable and 'honest by that portion of community whose :-ilhnimity will not suffer them to make sufuont advances to appreciate his virtues. The dtrmian is strictly republican in his habits and frlmgs, and abhors giving to another that which e would not be perfectly satisfied to receive in f iurn. If you are generous and confiding, he iil far exceed you in confidence and generosi- !: pugnacious he will have the less estimable jv''torv there. Courteous, affable and kind, it is

iuoni he will give offence, nor will he receive insult, without making a more hasty and vi:ont resistance than the New Englandcr is in :!e habit of doing. Though he would sacrifice tor his honor, he would fight no longer for

P'nciple than interest demanded. I would re-

1 tat, that the faults of the real character of the -enuine Indianian, is more the fault of his instiatins, and his credulity in regarding public -pinion, than are inherent and natural. Publi c opinion, in my view, has too much in-

i'Uence in all affairs, whether public or private,

" ew states and communities, particularly; md here, I may say, with confidence, its influnce is of such vast magnitude, that it is utterly possible to mingle in what our village residen-

tr' (vulgarly) term Society. But, a very small ii rtion of native Indianians inhabit the villages,

Interring, it would seem, the Farmer's life, to

"J profession, or mechanical business. Hence,

ie traveller, in nassinr through the State, tar-

ff.lniTand llprnminir n-rtiiiin(i,l -m 1 1- in tliA v-il.

l?e is as incapable of giving the real charter of the great mass of the people of the state, -a native of this section would be to charactere the sons of Massachusetts. Lv rpsidino- a fw

- -. j ttk or months, with his "uncle in the countrv."

travelling through an Eastern State, and

""ymg with its citizens in the largest towns,

u" no conceded the only true means of givS to a correspondent or a friend, the general : ,cePtiOTls to tt:'s Golden Rule nr.:st be ncknowl- : ''t.as existed in all communities, whether civiiiz- - ir un-:..:i- i . . ...... i ,

euT ulzea wroughontttie habit.- - v- .!; .,to '-r or less extent, and will continu :j , ... I'.Tintuthe tiaal consummation of ail cilythi-js. '

manners and character of its inhabitants. Here it is widely different. Scarcely one in ten of the adults in the villages claim Indiana as the land of their nativity; and from the existence of this fact, the character given the citizens of this State, has, perhaps, in ninety-nine cases out of an

hundred, been unjustly and basely misrepresent ed. The generally flourishing villages of Indi

ana, are made up, something after the manner of

a noted Hotspur s army of fifty men "Of all nations, and some half dozen tonfues."

And this, in itself, if no other facts could be

adduced, is the why and wherefore, of such a

multitudinous variety of conflicting opinions ex

isting relative to the citizens here, by those who

nave not an opportunity ol becoming generally

acquainted. In the country, the mass of the people can say

witn iseiKirK, "I'm monarch of all I survey, My right there are none to dispute." Here it is that the character of the State is man.

ifest, and that republican manners of simplicity

u.iiiu mtjir uuautnui original, witnout even the first tincture of high life or aristocracy. Go to

the country, and nothing in possession of the far

mer is too good for you; you are quickly introduced into all his affairs, and it would seem that whatever is his, is your own. In an hour, as it

were, you are cherished, respected and regard

ed as one of his own family. Mock- modestv

and all extra etiquette, are thrown aside, and his attention and friendship as pure and unadulterated as the morning air of his own lofty mountains and salubrious vallics. No honorable man is, or perhaps ever was, a stranger in the house of an Indianian, in the country, and cursed be he

who takes advantage or imposes upon the confl

uence ot the man who acts in unison with his own

ieenngs, and exercises Ins will in arrnrrhinrp

with the pristine purity of American institutions.

Did this description of society exist in towns,

more young men, who are now in the habit of

loitering about and lounging in Groceries, &c.

would be in more reputable places, and filling

nonoranie and responsible stations to themselves and their country. Numbers who would become profitable citizens, after spending a few weeks or months in the town, (believing the

town to be the criterion to judge the country,

ami irom which country manners and customs are fashioned.) leave the State in disgust, and as a consequence, a host arc thereby deterred from emigrating, because man will not look upon man

as his equal. A stranger will spend months, I

might say years, without even the semblance of

an introduction; and unless he calls in requisi

tion more "brass" than Eastern decorum would permit, he will be a stranger still, and continue

to be one, notwithstanding his education and talents, in circles where science, literature and Socirfy, do exist, would enable him to walk in

the first rank. But here, no pretensions, howev

er honorable, (save those emanating from rccalth,)

arc recognized none others, it appears, is

passport to the "higher circles." This error

should be speedily eradicated; let virtue constitute the standard for worth. If the state of society is as it should be, I would

feel myself under obligations to some of the apparently knowing correspondents of the Inquirer

to mlorm me. At some future period, when time will permit me to enlarge on "village eti

quette," I shall resume the subject.

COSMOPOLITAN. Brookville, April 13, 1833. LUSUS NATURE. There is in Elgin que of the most extraordinary instances of the aberrations of nature, in the

person of a young man, it has ever been our lot either to see or hear of. The individual in question though we never before adverted to him, is a

native of this place He is 23 years of age. ' To describe minutely the appearance of his body is a task which we will not undertake. Suffice it to say that he is so formed as to be unable either to sit or walk. He is consequently obliged to be kept always in his bed; and even there he can not turn from one side to another. The office must be done by others. When placed on either

of his sides, however, or on his back, he lies

without any pain. His legs and body, in addition to their being curiously twisted, are slender as a skeleton, while his bones are nearly as soft as flesh. The back-bone, instead of being in the

same position as in others, is quite perpendicular;

while his head is incomparably the largest we have ever seen. The faculty, we understand, attribute the extraordinary size of his head to a

gathering of water; of which, one physician, now

deceascd,used to say there were at least two chop-

pins. It is somewhat singular that the unfortunate

young man has no beard; but the hair of his head grows with remarkable rapidity. He is possessed of very superior vocal talents, and used to

be uncommonly loud of singing; but of late he

has not indulged so much in it. His memory is extraordinary; he will repeat whole psalms with the utmost accuracy after hearing them read two or three times. Though he cannot read, his

pronunciation is singularly correct, and, when

hearing him repeat some pieces last week, re

were much struck with, the taste he displaj-ed in

placing the emphasis on the proper words. All

his senses are unimpaired. He hears, sees, xc.

as well as other people. What is very surprising is, that, though always confined to his bed, unless when his parents take him out to show him to any visitor, he is quite cheerful; indeed, he seems to have an uncommon flow of spirits; a circumstance we ascribe, in a great measure, to the commendable tenderness and attention with which his parents treat him. All together, we repeat, a? wi do -v?f ? rz-rirx::.

THE GOOD OLD TIMES. I wish the fashions were the same As thirty years ago, I can't imagine what can make The tailors change them so; When I was in my youth, I made A coat of homespun do, And thought it very fine to have My hair tied in a cue. And in those days our breeches were All buckled at the knee, And silver buckles did insure The best of company; Our heavers were of comely shape, And kept off sun and rain Oh how I wish those broad brimmed hats, Would come in vogue again. I'm troubled with a full half yard Of cloth about my feet; My coat is made so very small, The laps will hardly meet; Tight knees are all the fashion now, And 6hocs must have square toes; And where the fashions will arrive, The tailor hardly knows. The dandies of the present day Have guard chains all of gold, You'd think their monstrous pocket-book Was till'd with wealth untold! My father wore a silver watch And eke a good steel chain, And well I recollect his straight Old pewter headed cane. He owned a large and thrifty farm Of wood aud meadow land, And always had a plenty of The dollar coins on hand. I guess some dashy friends of mine, Would find it rather hard To pay for coats they're wearing now, At "two pounds ten per yard." But as for me I wish I had My silver dollars back, I'd recollect my father's ways, And tread the same old track; I'd never do as I have done, Risk hundreds on a bet, Nor be obliged so oft to cry, "Clean pockets here to let."

STORY OF THE TIN PEDLAR.

l ne louowing siory, exiracieu irom tne lortn coming work of".l yankv.e among the JVulliJicrs," purports

to be told to the author by a South Carolinian:

"The Yankees, as I said before, are apt to be

too cute for us in every thing except horse flesh, and even sometimes in that. It was this day

three years ago, and on this very spot, that 1

entered my horse, Southron, for a purse of two

thousand dollars. He had won a like sum the

year before with all ease. In short he was the best horse at that time in all Carolina. There were to be sure, two other horses, and very fine

ones too, entered against' him but fliey were no

loHCh to l i-'ilhron. and t was as svrc of winning

T r i j ii- .

asianioi muhilt ikto at mis moment w;cn

ho should come along but a rough looking

Yankee with a tin cart! He had the shabbiest, worst looking horse you ever set your eyes on. He was a lean, slab-sided, crook-legged, roughhaired, milk and molasses coloured son of a gun

as ever went on four legs. He stood all the time as if he was asleep in fact, his owner called him

olrrpy Dazid. In short, sir, he was such a horse

as would not have brought "20 dollars.

It was near lne hour of starting, w hen the ped

lar, whose exterior corresponded marvellously

with that of his horse, and who said his name was

Zadock Baker, to the astonishment of all, intimated a w ish to enter his horse along with the rest.

'Your horse!' exclaimed I 'what, that sleepy-

looking devil, there? You'd better enter him for the turkey buzzards.' Not's you know on, Mister,' returned the Yankee,

with some show of spirit. 'To be sure the critter looks rather sleepy as he stands, and on that account I call him Sleepy David; but he's a jo-fired smart horse for all (hat. He's like a singed cat,a darned sight better than he looks. I should like

tarnatioued well to trv him against some of your

South Carolina hosses. To be sure I didn't come

all the way from home on purpose; but as I was coming out this way with a load of tin and other

notions, I though 1 might time it so as to kill two

birds with one stone for. thinks I to myself, if I

can win the purse and peddle oil mv notions at

the same time, I shall make a plaguey good speck.

liut I had to hurry on like the nation, to git here

in season and that's one reason mv boss looks so

kind of shabby and out of kilter this morning. But

for all that he will perform a like day's work, I tell you.'

Supposing he h.ul no idea of running his horse,

and that all he said was merely to gratify his

propensity tor talking. 1 bade him be gone, and not trouble me with his Yankee palaver.

'Why, Mister,' said he, 'this i3 a free countrv

and a man has a right to talk, or let it alone, jest as

lie can aliord. Now 1 ve taken a good deal of

pains to git here this morning, in order to run

Sleepy David against some of your Southern

hosses. 1 aint a joking, sir, I m in earnest. I

understand there is a purse of two thousand dol-

ars,and I should like amazingly to pick it up! 'You talk of picking up a purse of two thousand

dollars with that bit of carrion of yours! Away

with you, and don't trouble us any further.' 'Well, if I can't run, then I spose I can't but it's d d hard any how for a man to take so much pains as I have to come to the races, and then can't be allowed to run arter all.' 'It's too late now by the rules of the course the horse should have been entered yesterday however, if you'll plank the entrance money, per

haps you may get in yet. I said thisbv vav of getting rid of the fellow,

having no idea he could command a fourth part of:

the sum required. 'Tr. - - . ' r d t;e entrance money be,' he v ; . : ; .iac c. uaning a few i sluiiiitgs -weaver -and a few pence coppers.

'If itaintmore'n a quarter of a dollar or so I'll plank it on the nail.' 'It's two hundred dollars.' 'Two hundred dollars! exclaimed the Yankee. 'By gauly,what a price? Why they only ax'dme a quarter of a dollar to see the elephant and caravan in New-York. Two hundred dollars!

Why you must be joking now. Bless me! my whole load of tin ware, boss, waggon, and all, wouldn't fetch that. But, mister, don't you think I could get in for ten dollars?' 'Nothing short of two hundred; and that must be paid in a short space of 5 minutes.' 'We now thought we had fairly got rid of the fellow; but he returned to the charge, and asked if fifty dollars wouldn't do, then seventy-five, then a hundred ; and finding that he could not make a bargain for less than the regular sum, he engaged to give it, provided he could find any one to loan him the money, for which he offered to pawn his wagon load of notions and Sleepy David to boot. He asked one, then anothor, to accommodate him with the loan declaring that as soon as ever he took the purse, the monej- should be returned; and he would give a dozen tin whistles into the bargain. He, however got more kicks than coppers, until some wag, who had plenly of cash, and liked to see the sport go on lent him the two hundred dollars out of sheer malice. Though, as it afterwards turned out, the Yankee had money enough about him, and was merely playing the possom all the while. 'His next object was to borrow a saddle. Here also he was accommodated; and taking Sleepy David from the tin cart, he scrambled upon his back, and look his station on the course. You never saw a fellow sit on a horse so awkwardly in all your life. Every body said he would fail before he had gone a hundred yards; and some out of compassion urged him to withdraw. 'Not by a darn'd sight,' exclaimed he. 'Why do you think I'm such a tarnal fool as to pay two hundred dollars, and then not run arter all ?' . 'Others who wanted to see the sport, though it should cost some broken bones, encouraged him to proceed saying as they laughed aloud, that they had no doubt but he would carry off the purse. 'That's what I mean to do,' said he I haint come here for nothing I can tell you. Wake up Sleepy David, and look about ou ; you must have your eyes open to-day; it's no time to be a snoozin when thcr's money at stake.' 'The horse, as if he understood what his master was saying, opened his eyes, pricked up his cars, and he actually showed some signs of life. 'The signal was now given to start. Away

sprang Southron, with the speed of lightning, and away sprang the other Southern horses, leaving Sleepy David far in the rear, and the pedlar ver

ging from ide to side, as if he was just ready to

fall oft. The horse went pawing along, with his

tail clinging to his haunches, and his nose stuck out straight before him; and vou never beheld

so queer a figure cut by a man and horse as this singular pair made.

'But they improved as they proceeded: the

pedlar sat more jocky-like, and the horse evi

dently gained upon the others. But it would not do. He came in at least half a mile behind

Southron and a little less behind the others.

'It was now thought that the Yankee had got

enough, of the race, and would withdraw before the next heat. Contrary to all expectation,

he persevered; and even offered to bet a thousand dollars on the issue of the race.

'The fellow's a fool,' said one. 'He don't know which side his bread is butter

ed,' said another, 'or else he wouldn't risk any more money on so desperate a stake.'

'lie s safe enough there, said athird, 'for he

has no more to risk.'

'Here, however every body was mistaken a-

gain, for the pedlar hauled out an old greasy pocket book and planked the thousand dollars. It was covered of course. But I confess I now began to be staggered, and to suspect the Yan

kee was after all more knave than fool. I had

no fears, however for fhe purse. Southron was

not a horse to be distanced in one day, and especially by such a miserable looking devil as Sleepy David. 'The second heat was now commenced; and, if I had before felt confident in the entire superiority of my noble horse Southron, that confidence was strengthened, as I again saw him coming in ahead of the rest. I consdered the purse now as my own property. In imagination I had grasped it, and was about pitting it safely in my pocket, when lo, and behold, the pedlar's horse which w as behind all the rest suddenly shot forward as if the devil kicked him on end; and stretching his neck like a crane, won the heat by a head. 'Every body was astonished. 'That horse must be the devil himself, said one. 'At lea.-t he has fhe devil to back him,' said another. 'I was sure he would play you some Yankee trick before he got thro',' said a third. Such were the observations that passed from mouth Id mouth. 'The Yankee in the meantime, offered to plank another thusand dollars; but nobody would take the bet. And it w as well they didn't for at the third heat Sleepy David not only distanced every other horse but even came in a full quarter of

a mile ahead of Southron himself.

'There, by gaiily!"said the Yankee, as he dis

mounted, Til take that are Icetle purse if you please, and the tothercool thousand ? I knew well

enough that your Sou thern hosses couldn't hold a candle to Sleepy David.''

Wit at a pinch. "I don't care if I take a pinch

of that." said a man to one who held an opea

hnx 'l dnn'l rnw if VOll fif.il't." Said the CUiCr

putting Ui box into hi ptck:.. i

S ; It aia aIV-

l in; toi , rit ;bc it rat .pr ... i