Crawfordsville Review, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 31 January 1857 — Page 1

VOLUME

msiSsf'Td

most of our readers the follow-

^pgitpootio gem, bo deeply inspired with that niostibeautifnl of all griefs—grief for

thfc

fcctfatiftl'dead—JS doubtless no norcity ./We give it place for the purpose of calling' attention to-thc artistic wanner in which-tllo'lines? rire broken—just as we wo«ld 1»rcak Whispers and sentences in the iJhiafohcf of th.fe dying. ,V TIIE BltOKK.V-IIEARTED

Softiy!

'". Stfttls lvfn? With her lips apart,

F* ly aJi-.T'.'-. gofth! 8he i* dying Of ft broken heart

Softh!

oi m'~ .V--3? .bvnv', Whisper ifJOQ g|jo poin^ tOf h('". i) To her fin at'rest"," -Uiilb.: a r. AVhisjicr aj{*r iq Life i» growing -r t'4tt Dila within hor brca*t. •fa\ tdi i: Gently!*5 iitiii Us 'BfcoSlBHWofnnjc—,

EIio has breathed her Ics

mail 'Gently!" r: 0&t>b.5W* yon are weeping, oxs vS^to Jioayen lias past!

TOMAHAWK-

BLTSTIED INCIDENT .IN* TrrE LIFE •t^i'(6^.f ^A5flIEL "BRADY &tl& -rr •. i?.r. :i »t. iUMH & 3.#V!i nferasi^to.'r»«s-." -—About thirty- miles below the present fcity^f-Pilt'sburgh, stood an ancient fort, |t^wn fts Fort. Mcintosh. It was built by ^gQj^uiionavygeneral of tFat name,. :n the .-summer of 1778 It was one oi a line of 'forta,- which was intended to guard the people, who lived south of the Ohio river, from .the incursions of the savages to the north•ivard.,. ,This fort was one of the favorite resorts of the great Indian spy and hunter, Capt'. Samuel Brady. Although his usual )»ea(l-quartcrs was Pittsburg, then consisting of a rude fort and a score or two of rough frontier tenements. »Hrady had emigrated westward, or rathcp had marched thither in 177S, as a lieu't&nfmt in the distinguished Eighth Pennsylvania Eegtaacnt, under the command of .General Ilichnrd Broadhcad, of Easton.— When, in Ihc spring of 1779, Mcintosh retired from command in the TV est, Broadhead succeeded him, and remained at Pittsburg until 1781. Shortly after his advent td, the .-West, Brad}-was brevetted Cap--taih.K»

Brady had served at the siege of Boston, 'ftughtafc Long I bin iid and White Flatus, gone through the whole of the terrible campaign of Trenton and Pryiceton, suffered ait Valley Forge, distinguished himself at

GcVmantown a:ul Brnndywiuc, and narrowly escaped death at Pa'.»li*^nBut his tastes. Jcd-him to "the" erratic mbdc of warfare •^known upon the froutior. Indeed, hio car-

]v cdlicafion v.pon the upper iS'usquehar.na h'ad inculcated and developed those tastes .from the very earliest boyhood. Hating •an Indian wivh that inctir.etive hatred, 'which-ia b'ogotton in the. bosom cf the white race, bv long years of contest and outrage, a bitter intensity was imparted to the foeling in his case by the murder of his father and .younger brother by the Indians, under trying aud terrible circumstances.

Ifaving premised 'his much by way of inProduction, it brings us to. the opouiug of -.our story. Ou the 21st day of August, -1779, Brady sot out from Fort Mcintosh, for Pittsburg, lie had with him two of his "trusty and well-tried followers. These vrpr£ not attached to the regular army, as •he was, but.wore scouts and spies, who had "boon with:1 him upon many an expedition. TKey-were Thomas Beviugton and Bcnjanfin'lBiggsV 'Brady resolved to follow the ^rJJbgru.br.r.k of the Ohio. Biggs objected to this, upon the ground, as Brady well •Kuqw^ that- the woods vrcre swarming with

Brady however, had resolved to'

^IrVvgT.bv the old ludir.n path, and having .,qj}CC wjidcjupjhi? mind,' no consideration .'could dottw him from carrying out hi? determination. Bevinpton had such ibplicit fHith inlits ability to lead, that-he never 'Jthougbt'of fj-Jestioning Lis will...

Qyite a discussion arose between Biggs -«nd-his.captain at tlie luouth of.Beaver rivcr, about a mile above the fort, and where '^h'ey mTist cross the Ohio, if they continued "upoh ,'tlic northern side. Biggs finally yielded his objections, and they crossed JScavor, and prooeoded with .the habitual -caution of woodsmen who fully understand tlifeir bxisiucss. They had started early, aijd by rapid, traveling they had readied, ere noon came, the last pieeo of bcttora land ou the north side of the river, just be"ltTr tfliatPie kuown as the Narrows. Upon iftli's bottom a pioueer, otc daring than most others,' li^d built a cabin, and opened small nspot of cleared land. IIo bad in-^corn, and it gavo promise of a mosfebundont harvest.,

^^rtJJjit.ias-thojr approached the edge of the clearing, just outside of tho fence, Brady 'disctrrered "Indian signs," as thorn.His' xfoninanions discovered them almost as quick jus no, and at once, low ton&j'.cdfcmuiliciitcd to. caeh other the ne~ •e^s«ity -for a koien' iratch. They slowly trailad thom alongllie side of the fence toward the* JSitaA^9P-,tl*ey irell knew, until they. stood upon the brow of ^e'rlooto6dj ^ht^tite^aio«tEtemfaie^description met ^Aelr ey^VTliQ ^iibiu lay. amass of.amonl!erin£

£irom

The whole four now went down to the cabin and carefully examined the ruins.— After along and ni'nutc search, Brady declared in an authoritative manner, that none of the inmates had been consumed.— This announcement at once dispelled the most harrowing fears of Gray. As soon aa all that could be discovered had been ascertained, each one of the party proposed some course of action. One desired to go to Pittsburg and obtain assistance—another thought it best to return to Mcintosh and get some volunteers there—Brady lis-

he called tened pctientiy to both these propositions.but aruse quic-kly, after talking a moment apart with Biggs, and said, "Come."

Gray and Bevington obeyed at once, nor did Biggs object. Brady struck the trail and began pursuit in that tremendous rapid manner for which he was^ famous. It was evident that if :tlie .savages were overtaken it could only be done by the utmost ej&rtion. They were some honrs ahead,

and

irhettee dall blue

wnokl khMipia tho oloir AufnatWnsHne ^*7 ofe—iy «rllytfciBg jbfailii,1

froui-the number of their liorses must fa nearly all mounted. Brady felt that if thesy «exa *d{'owtokea tibat night suit woidH bi utterly futile

Brady knew it was customary for the Indi- dent that this band had been south of the

1 1?-1 AAK if I Inm A«I

an8 after they had fired a settler's cabin, if there was no immediate danger, to retire to the woods close at hand, and watch for the approach of any member of the family who might chance to be absent when they made the descent. Not knowiug but that they were even then lying close by, he left Bevington to watch the ruins, lying under cover, wlxil3fc he proceeded to the northward, and Biggs southward to make discoveries. Both were to return to Bevington, if they found no Indians. If they came across the perpetrators, and they were too numerous to be attacked regularly, Brady declared it to be his purpose to have one fire at them, and that shoidd be the signal for both of his followers to make the best of theirWav to the iort.

All this rapidly transpired, and with Brady to decide, was to act. As he stole cautiously round to the northern side of the inclosurc, he heard a voice in the distance singing. He listened keenly, and soon discovered from its intonations, that it was a white man's. He passed rapidly the direction whonce the sound cauic. As it approached, he concealed himself behind tlie trunk of a large tree. Presently a white man, riding a fine horse, came slowly down the path. The form wa3 that of Albert Gray, the stalwart, brave, devil-may-care settler, who had built him a home miles away from the fort, vtiierc no one cliningsun would dare to take a family, except himself.

Brady wore, as he almost always did, the Indian garb, and had war paint upon bis fiicc. —He knew that if lie showed himself upon the path, Gray would shoot, takin him to be ail Indian. He therefore suffered Gray quietly to approach his lurking place. When the time came, he sprang forward ere the settler could have time to prepare, drew his tomahawk, and-seizing him, dragged him from his horse. As lie did so, he whispered to him: "I am Captain Brady, for God's pake be quiet." •.

Gray, with the instinctive feeling of one who knew there was danger, and with that. vivid presence of mind which characterizes those acquainted with frontier life, ceased at cncc to struggle. The horse had been .started by the sudden onslaught, and sprung to one fide. Ere he had time to leap forward, Brady had caught him by the bridle, ilia lond snorting threatened to arouse any one v.'hn was near. The Captain soon soothed the frightened animal into quiet.

Gray now hurriedly asked Brady what tho danger was. The strong, vigorous say, turned away his face ur.aMe to answer him. The settler's already excited fears were thus turned into realities. The manly form shook like an aspen leaf, v.ith emotion— tears fell as largo drops of water over his bronzed face, lirady permitted ihe indulgence for a moment, v.hilsi he led the horse into a thicket close at hand and tied him. When he returned Gray had sunk to the earth and great tremulous convulsions writhed over him. Brady quietly touched him upon tho shoulder and said Come." He at once arose, and had gone but a few yards until every trace of emotion had apparently vanished, lie was no longer the bereaved husband and father—he was the sturdy, well-trained hunter, whose car and eye were acutely alive to every sight or sound, the waving of a leaf or the crackling of the smallest twig. lie desired to proceed directly toward the house, but Brady objected to this, and chey passed down toward the river bank. As they proceeded, tiiey saw from the tracks of horses and moccasin prints upon the places where the earth was ruoht. that the parly was quite a numerous one. After thoroughly examining every cover and possible place c.f concealment, they passed on to the southward and came back in that direction to the spot where Bevington stood sentry. When they reached him they found that Biggs had uot returned. In a few minutes he came. He reported that the trail was large aud broad the Indians had taken no pains to conceal their tracks—they simply had struck back into the country, so as to avoid coming in contact with the spies whom they supposed to be lingering along the river.

'It tu tri-

«J1 il. it_

Ohio and plundered the homes of other settlers. They had pounced upon the family of Gray upon their return.

When tlie pursuit began, it must have been two o'clock, at least tvro hours had been consumed by the .spies in making the necessary exploration about the honse, ere they approached it, and in examining the ruins. Not a word was spoken upon the route by any one. Their leader kept steadily in advance. Occasionally he would diverge from the track, but only to take it up again a mile or so in advance. The Captain's intimate knowledge of the topography of the country, enabled him to anticipate what points they would make. Thus he gained rapidly upon them by proceeding more nearly in a straight line toward the point at which they aimed to cross Beaver River. ,~a.

At last, convinced from the general direction in which the trail led, that he could divine with absolute certainty the spot where they would ford that stream, he abandoned it and struck boldly across the country. The accuracy of his judgment was vindicated by the fact, that from an elevated crest of along line of hills, he saw the Indians with their victims just disappearing up a ravine on the opposite side of the Beaver. He counted them as they slowly filed away under the rays of the de-

There were thirteen warriors,

Just as the sun set, the spies forded the stream and began to ascend the ravine.— It was evident that the Indians intended to camp for the night some distance up a small creek or run, which debouches iuto Beaver River, about three miles from the location of Fori. Mcintosh, and two below the ravine. The spot, owing to the peninsular form of thfi tongue of the land lying west of the Beaver, at which they expeeted to encamp, was full ten miles from that fort. Here there was a famons spring, so deftly and cunningly situated in a deep dsll, and so densely inclosed with thick mountain pines, that there was little danger of discovery! Even they might light a fire aud it could not bo seen one hundred yards.

The proceedings of their leader, which would have been totally inexplicable to all others, wore partially, if uot fully, understood by his followers. At least, they did not hesitate or question him. When dark came, Brady pushed forward with as much apparent, certainty as he had done during the day. ^o rapid was his progress, that the Indians had but just kindled their fire and cooked their meal, when their mortal foe, whose presence they dreaded as much as that of the small-pox, stood upon a huge rock looking down upon them.

His party had been left a short distance in the rear, at a convenient spot, whilst he wont forward to reconnoitre^ There they remained impatiently for three mortal hours. They discussed in low tones the extreme disparity of the force—the propriety of going to Melntosh to get assistance. But- all agreed that, if Brady ordered them to rati ic ess was certain.—

After each fairly understood the duty assigned him, the slow, difficult, hazardous approach began. They continued upon their feet until they had gotten within one hundred yards of the foe, and then lay down upon their bellies and began the work of writhing themselves forward like a serpent approaching a victim. They at last reached the very verge of the line, each man was at his post, save Biggs, who had the farthest to go. Just as he passed Brady's position, a twig cracked roughly under the weight of his body, and ji huge savage, who lay within the reach of Gray's toma Jtank, sjow^y sa| up M^f ^startled into this

CMWFOEDSVLLLE, MONTGOMERY/ COUJfTY, INDIANA,, JANUARY ^1,- 1857..

eyes, he again lay down and all was still. Full fifteen minutes passed ere Biggs moved then he slowly went on. When he. reached his place, a very low hissing sound indicated that he was ready, Brady in turn reiterated the sound as a signal to Gray and Bevington to begin. This they did in the most deliberate manner. No nervousness was permissible then. They slowly felt for the heart of each savage they were to stab, and then plunged the knife. The tomahawk was not to be used unless the knife proved inefficient. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night as they cautiously felt and stabbed, unless it might be that one who was feeling would hear the stroke of the other's knife and the groan of the victim whom the other had slain. Thus the work proceeded. Six of the savages were slain. One of them had not been killed outright by the stab of Gray. He sprang to his feet, but as he arose to shout his war cry, the tomahawk finished what the knife had begun. He: staggered and fell heavily forward, over one who had not yet been reached. He in turn started up, but Brady was too quick,, his knife reached his heart and the tomahawk his brain almost at the same instant.

All were slain by the three spies, except one. He started to flee, but a rifle shot by Biggs rang merrily out upon the night air and closed his career. Tho women and children, alarmed by the contest, fled wild-

eight of whom were mounted^—another wo- jly to the woods but when all had grown man, besides Gray's wife, was in the cav-1 still and they were called, they Returned, alcade, and two children besides his—in recognizing amid their fright the tones of all, five children. their own people. The whole party took

The odds seemed fearful to Biggs and Bevington alihough Brady made no comments. The moment they had passed out of sight, Brady again pushed forward with unflagging energy, nor did his followers hesitate. There was not a man amoiig them whose mnsclc3 were not tense and rigid as wliip-cord, from exercise and training, from hardship and exposure. Gray's whole form seemed to dilate into twice its natural size at the sight of his wife and children. Terrible was the vengeance he swore.

up their march for Mcintosh at once.— About sunrise next morning the sentries of the fort were surprised to see the cavalcade of horses, men, women and children, approaching the fort. When they recognized Brady, they at once admitted him and the whole party.

In the relation of the circumstances afterward, Bevington claimed to have killed three and Gray three. Thus Brad}r, who claimed nothing, must have slain at least six, whilst the other two slew as many.— The thirteenth Biggs shot.

From that hour to this, tho spring is called the "Bloody Spring!" and the small run is called, "Brady's Run." Few, even of the most curious of the people living in the neighborhood, know aught of the circumstances which conforrecFthese names names whidh will be preserved by tradition forever. Thus ended one of the very many hand-to-hand fights which the great spy had with the savages. His history is fuller of daring incident, sanguinary, close, hard contests, perilous explorations and adventurous escapes, than that of cither of the ITctzels, of Boone or Kenton. He saw more service than any of them, and his name was -known as a bvc-word of terror among the Indian tribes, from the Susquehanna to Lake Michigan.

TWO DAYS ON THE EB2E ROAD 3iy name is Stephen Sharply. I sometimes travel. rather like traveling whon the appliances are comfortable, and the dust not very great: so does Mrs. Sharply.

I lately had occasion to be in the West, on matters connected with business—Miss Sharply had married an Ohio man. But I shall have nothing farther to say of them, except that Miss Sharply's husband advised me to take the Krie Road on my return. As I have but indifferent knowledge of these things myself, I complied with his suggestion.

The Cleveland and Erie train, running over the Lake-shore Road, arrived at Dunkirk at about nine o'clock on the evening of Wednesday, the 17th of December last.

I had been told that by stepping imme

However impatient they were, he returned diately upon the Erie and New York train at last. He described to tn :m how the women and children lay within the centre of a crescent formed by the savages as they slept. Their guns were stacked upon the right, and most of their tomahawks. The arms were not more than fifteen feet from them. He had crawled within fifty feet of them, when the snorting? of the horses, occasioned by the. approach of a wild beast, had aroused a number of the savages from

should arrive at Jersey City the following dnv, in season for dinner. This was precisely what I wished. .. '.i 1 had hoped to find, somewhere upon the Lnke-shore Road, an agent of the great Erie enterprise to instruct me about the position of the cars, and to exchange checks with me for my baggage. In this, howe\er, I was disappointed

Two carriages in the Dunkirk Si«itioi± were pointed out to me as those of the

their light slumbers, and he had been com-j night train, and into these I conveyed mv polled to lie quiet for more than an hour shawl and carpet-sack, and industriously endeavored to find some person who could tell me the precise hour of our starting. I was unable to do so, and lost the time for a godfi supper in consequence. Some seventy or eighty of my fellow-passengers from

until they slept again. He then told them that" lie would attack them. It was impossible to use fire arms. They must depend solely upon the knife and tomahmck. The knife must be placed in the left hand and the tomahawk in the right. To Biggs he assigned the duty of securing their arms. He was to begin the work of slaughter upon the right, Gray upon the left, and Bevington in the centre.

Cleveland, meantime, dashed off toward Buffalo, on their way to the New York Central. I could not avoid counting them very misguided persons to choose the two arms of a triangle, while I, with some ten or a dozen others, had preferred the great Erie hypothenuse. It was toward ten when we set off—very slowly and deliberately.

These men, said I, have learned prudence they do not heat the axle too hastily in this chilly weather. I felt sure they had read the article on that subject in the morning journal of my friend, Mr. "Wesley.

Fifteen miles out from Dunkirk, at about eleven, -there was a sudden stoppage. Ah adventurous, stout man, in a grizzly black beard and gray traveling cap, who had been fretting at the slow rate of speed, and who had grayely questioned the bold assertion of tfcc'btl who built the fires in the ear, l^t^^lhou W he in Jfew York by thre©

o'clock^ went out to reconnoitre and report. The eccentric was broken—the locomotive would work backward but not forward.— We backed to a convenient switch in the neighborhood, and, having assured ourselves that we were safe from all trains in front or rear, abandoned ourselves to conjectures upon the probable issue of the night's travel. I think the grizzly-beard-ed man was ready to offer odds that we should not arrive till after dark on Thursday. :.J

The Conductor telegraphed to Dunkirk. An engine was promised. We waited, slept, woke built up the fires heard trains go whizzing by in the dark and at length, after four hours and a half of patient continuance, were rewarded bv the announcement that the locomotive had ar.

rived.

ri-5«-n-,

I quite envied a pert little bright-eyed young gentleman, from Chicago, who, wrapped in his shawl, and with a pair of not very savory feet elevated upon the top rim of his bench, had slept through it .all, in my immediate vicinity.

Though the locomotive had arrived, there was still a delay to telegraph back for or^ dcrs. The grizzly-haired gentleman, who has-chafed through the car in an uneasy manner for the greater part of the night, was evidently a keen admirer of the telegraph.

'Conductor," lie would say, 'whenever that crest-fallen gentleman showed himself during the night-watches, "any thin by telegraph Capital thing that telegraph —such a safe way." G#d's sake, what would have become of us all, here on the Erie Road, without that splendid system! Any thing very late, Conductor?"

At length there was a flutter, and a struggle, and a stir, and a sudden jar the Chicago lad withdrew his feet from the rim of his bench, gave a turn or two in his blanket, and composed himself afresh. We were on the road again. The fireman brought in a few billets of birch wood, and was quite -ehirtupy. Even the grizzlyhaired man had ceased chafing for the time, and was in lively conversation with a rural inhabitant of some of these Western solitudes, who had reckoned on meeting his horse and sleigh at some wild station by ten at night—it was now verging toward one of the next morning, and many miles yet tc pass ..oyer.

It is my impression that the grizzlyhaired man tried to cheer the stranger. I can not say but he proposed to him'one or two wagers in a pleasantly facetious way, which the stranger did not accept.

For ar. hour we went on swimmingly I can't tell the name of the station where we came to a stop there was a switch there, however, with which the Erie Road seems capitally provided. For greater security we ran down—ran back, or clid upon the switch. 'K:?

The conductor disappeared the fireman said he had gone for orders. "There it is again," said the grizzlyheaded gentleman, "that admirable tele-' graph. What a security against accident!"

I suppose it must be so, though I never went over a road before regnlated in that

Well, it was very much the same thing all the night: a little advance, wheu the fireman grew ehirruppy, or our grizzly-hair-ed friend forgot, his griefs then a backing or a switching a waiting for orders, or a new comment on that extraordinary telegraph system.

We readied Hornellsville (I think that is the name) in time for a late breakfast.— What dashing people those were who brought us little dishes of stewed chickcn and fried sausages, after such a lingering, dreadful night! Even the little Chicago lad ate astounuir.gly. I think he was a clerk in some connecting Railway link, and once or twice'in* his wakeful moments, he had insisted upoh saying that, notwithstanding the dela3r, the Eric enterprise was the bo3t, regulated enterprise in this country— -it which we ail smiled, and wished the lad would drop to sleep again.

When we went upon the cars again we found new-comers among the rest a bridal party. The sight of it brought back Mrs. Sharply to mc vividly in the chip hat she wore twenty-seven years ago. I never saw a more contented, rosy bride (I mean the one whs joined us at Hornellsville) and the bridesmaids, of whom there were two, were to excessively cheery and blossomy (if

may use the word), that it did

one's heart good to li#ten to them. What 'funny fellows those groomsmen were! How the maids laughed till the tears came, and hid their faces in their clean white pocket handkerchiefs! now their little feet bounded up from tlie floor in excess of hiliarity, and went down again with a pretty clatter of bee1

It never occurred to me'before but are not groomsmen the .funniest dogs in the world? I wondered if Fundi did not keep groomsmen in pay for his best jokes.

The only sober creature in the party was the husband. He could not bavci been more serious, not if he had been mStaled a year, or passed the night with us on the Erie Road. vr*.?

It-was interesting to see how the sight of that rosy.-cheeted bride—struggling with her disposition to laugh j:

bridesmaids, but clearly feeling some considerations of dignity*in the way—lighted up my fellow voyagers of the night. I think even the grizzly-headed man forgot the telegraph and all his vexations..

It has even been suggested" to mo (but I do not believe it) that the bridal party had been telegraphed by the admiuistratiop^ and offered a free ticket, in view of rcstcri'ng the passengers to amiable humor, and "heading off" any newspaper complaints.—' I ^ras in a condition to believe a good deal„ but I do not believe this, of either the President or of Mr. M'Callum.

Now, in the midst of .all., these, bridal blushes, and tlie funny sallies of "Sam and "George" (groomsmen always go by their first names), there was a jolt, a rumble (a slight bridal scream), and a full stop.

The grizzly-headed man recovered his old manner in an instant. He went forward for observation.- Ho returned presently with a report. We had run into a saw log the c'ow-eateher was smashed to atoms the engine was thrown off the track, and probably disabled and,'"Gads, gentlemen," said he, in a nervous nianuer, "I suspect we must back up somewhere to a switch, place ourselves in position, and -telegraph for orders.. It's an admirable system—'hat -telegraph!"

The grcoinsrriqn thoughtit a capital joke, and nil the bridesmaids laughed irt I lie oiliest way in the world. H(Sw'easily some people do laugh, to be sure!"

Poor Mistress Sharply! just, now laying the cloth for me on our snug table in Twen-ty—-st Street, and Agatha dusting the hearth and putting the mutton to boil.

I wished I was a bride, or a groom, or any thing which could loolc on the Eric experience cheerily.

I can not say accurately how long we waited. I think I must have dozed. My next rccoilcctions arc of swimming along among evergreen trees, on tho banks of a frozen river, about noontide the Chicago lad all alertness, ar.d the bride all wakcfnl and bloonnnjr. The grizzly-headed man was iairlv snorinir. ,:It was a hopeful sign.

I venturcc to we might arrive at Jersey City It was a new conductor, and lie was not offended the question, though I feared lie might be. Ayv "If nothing happens, Sir," said he (and ho really meant no.joke), "we shall bo in between one and two."

One and two! I looked .at my watch.— It was already half-past two. I looked up for explanation. "Oh! in the morning," said he, clieerfully.

My heart, sank. I had slept little for two nights. To be landed among the savages of Cortlandt Street at two in the morning was more than I could contemplate calmly.

I looked over my guide-book, fixed upon Binghamton a? an important place, whore hotels would be respectable at the least, and, at six in the evening, stopped there very wearily.'

A man with white, flaxen hair, so like in countenance to -my meek friend, Mr. Greeley, that I thought I might safely trust him, advised me to go to the American Hotel.

I always had little faith in physiognomy —less now than cverl-?I had abstained from a railway incnl (in Owego, I think) for the sake of a good, hearty, quiet dinner in my inn ai n:ght.

They served me, at the ."American," tii a little hard nvhbin of steak, whether beef, or venison, or mutton, I can not say. And tho Irisii maid, who served it in a long, cold hall, seemed to ,'hink I wa "coming the genteel strongly," to be eating warm meat at that hour.

The ho st, a brisk, weazen-faced old man. who was swearing in a cheery manner, when I came ia, about having p:r,:-uod h,." linger in the door, was of a conver.-ui,~o".' turn aud informed mc that his establishment consumed half a ton of coal a day, and "not half warm at that," taid he. I think he was a truthful man, though he swore badly.

I am sorry I can not recommend his inn. A scullion—cr somebody who might have been, and who made my chamber-fire in a stove about the size of a quart cup—swore badly as his master. It acemed to meat a method they had of k-jeping warm,

I was to leave next morning by the Cincinnati express train, and reach New York at half-past three. So, bein» aroused at six, or thereabout, and breakfasting upon a remnant of that teak, I, company with four or five others, roue to the station, where we were startled by the announcement, on the telegraphic blackboard of the establishment, that the "C'iucinpali. train was six hours behind time."

And what amazed me most was, that nobody, from the ticket-seller down to the hackmen, seemed at all surpri^^d. "Lauk, suds!" said one of tne men I consulted, "that's nothing. She ain't up to time any day these three v.ceks."

Fortunatelv, however, thero was a mailtrain leaving Owego at* seven o'clock, or thereabout (I have grown careless about times), which the ticket-master informed me would land me in New York by half-

past six. There waslao other resource. I cnterta the. ed the-mail-train, bade adieu to. Bingham **r'

ton (it may. he a fine pi'ace), an^dSTjh'itt.l® for New York. Bufc-iJt wn^lSy' shortrjtywhes. I had no conception o/ tSe multitude of post-offices which exist in that scctioij ot country.•' XA

There was no bridal, party to relievo- it all. Thcr'e iriti, however, apTctaatHgrohp of three middle-aged ladies, accompanied by a se.nti:henta! and* scimpX^bat lyp^hatic girl, occupied mostly in sleep and novelreading, and by a thfn, feilious-iookiiig.cav-alier, who edited tlie merriment of bis little gt-ctin by dririlong brarhdy otlt%f'rifl3S& What small things'chacm one on the Eridf Road! And how far a little good-htnitof goes toward relieving the tedium of a mail« train!

What, a flaw of spirits that short,r.thin cavalier in the drab coat kept up! Hatf ho relieved those poor women—lialf doj-| ing, half stupefied, altogether fatigued, and!" tumbled, and dusty—with his .pleasant pantomime! IJow Sally-Ann laughed, and then subsided into sleepiness! How they ate dough-nuts. r.nT how they tittered at the tunny tin dipper—such a funny dipper —with a handle, and all 1 hatC .,* .J,,'-

There was an oid lady, with a small band-box, who, in the latter part of tho day, came and'took a scat beside 'inc. (I, think 1 have a family look about'mcV »nd a trusty one.) •I Wan'I accustqfr.eil inuclv to traveliu' in earrs," said she.'

Ah! indeed," said 'Mr. Sharply. No, not much," said she: "mostafear'd on'cm. But la! Sir, some folks an't." My sister lAicy, neow, says she'd jisfc as lecven as not."'

I can noVnow'recall my reply'to thisobscrvation. But the old lady went on. She wns'nt used to "carrs she wondered what time we should get into Jersey v! City, or if it would be dark. I told her I feared it would her/_ "f "Well, then, that's real aukn'rd for mo,* said she. "You see, I'm a goin to New ark (strong accent on the my darter Vbcti a stayin' along back with my sister who lives in Ncwrtr/.:, and she's expectin' mo tc-night, and I've never ben to Newark-, and not Win' accustomed much to travelin' in oar.-?, you see it's kinder aukard lor

I told her it was very simple that the trains'on that road left very regularly, and it was only half an hour's ide "Thankee, Sir," said she "and tho carrs not very far to go to?"

I told her they were ju.it by.--"Oh! thankee, Sir," said she "and if you'd bo so kind, Sir, as to show me tho way when wo gits in? for, you see, I an't much accustomed to travelin' in carrs."

I told her I would,-with pleasure"Ar.d, if you'd be so good, Sir, I've got a couple- of bundle?—my darter's things, which I thought fho'd be a-wantin', being ia a strange placc—and if you'd be so good Sir, as to carry 'cm across for me?—Oh, thankee, can carry tfie band-boa, it's no groat lift."

I told her I would. [Weak, sensitive Mr. S!i$rp7J/.\ "An'' the uvubril, if vou'd be so good,. c-

nr.

I -old her I would. [To be. read by Mrs. Sharp///, if she sees this, in a depr-icatory tone.) "You see, Sir," continued the old lady,

I 'sposc they'd bo expectin' on r.ie at New#/'/7,-, and I guess they'll be a-gittin' tea for mo, and I shouhln't like to be keepin' on a-Wiiit'in'."

I nodded, as much as to say my friend was acting very prndonlly. Well, wo arrived at length. I took th'e bundles, tho "umbril," and the old lady to the "Newarh carrs."

was

ferried over tho river—the clock

rnriuk ten as landed. Poor Mistress Sharply! The dimer cf yesterday was spoiled with waiting, the dinner of to-day spoiled, the tea spoiled', Mistress Sharply'* temper ahno-.t spoiled,

And how has all this happened said .Mrs. Sharply, kissing mc conjugally. My dear," said f, kis'ing her coujuga!--ly, "I came by the Eric road!"

I met Jaundice the other day, who wn3 with me on the Lake-shore train aud took the Central road. "Ah, Sharply," said he, "how d'ya do,?you took tho Eric road, I thnik i, "Yc-cs, Eric road," said I. "Get ia in good time:" "Oh, I stopped—stopped* over night at Binghamton." -i

Oli, yon did, ch? Pleasant place enough, Binzhamton, utit?" Yc-ca-^'lcasait."'

It's a relief to stop at nigkf", cn those d—d long road:/' "Oh, yes, quite," said I. "But it won't do for business.mon/' "K he, dashing oa.-

No, I suppose not," said.* When I travel by the Erie again (if I ever do), I think it will be in summer lime, when the day: are long and tho nights

warm.'

StST" A German paper asserts that prns" sic acid cr.ly causes the stuipcti3:on of life at first, and* that one who takes it cati be1 restored to animation by pouririg the acetate of potash and salt,, dissolved in water, on the head atid spine. "This treatment has. been su(poasfully tried-w

... •'.* I it, I„