Decatur Eagle, Volume 1, Number 24, Decatur, Adams County, 24 July 1857 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EAGLE. —~~ ' ...:rr-r.— ..e ... ■ — ‘

VOL. 1.

I TilE DECATUR EAGLEJ )♦♦<»<»' PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING. I Offioa on Main Street, in the old School House, j ■ one Square North of J. & P Crabs' Store. Terms of Subscription : For’one year, $l S(L in advance; $1 75, w ith in six months; «2 00, after the year has expired. ■ O’No paper will be discontinued until all I arrerasjes are paid, except at the option of the Publisher. Terms of Advertising: Ono Square, three insertions, S< 00 i ....EeeA’itfslpo’nt'f’l'fvOr Ilir6 : stjuare will De Coum j ■ ted and charged as two; over two, as three, etc. JOB PRINTING. We are prepared to do all kinds of JOB WORK, in a neat and workmanlike manner, on the most reasonable term•> Our material for the completion of Job-wm k, being new and of the latest styles, we are confident that satistac- ■ tion can be given. Law of New spapers. 1. Subscribers who do i of give express notice , to the contrary, am . considered ns wishing to continue their subscriptions. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their papers, the publisher may continueto send . them until all arrearages are paid. 3. If subscribers negb'd orrefnse to take their papers from the office the are held responsible ! till they have settled the* bill and ordered the paper discontinued. • 4. I f subscribers remove to other places without, informing the publisher, and the paper is I still sentto the former direction,they are held responsible. JJTThe Court have decided that refusing of take a paper from the office, or removed ami leaving it uncalled for is riti.MA facie evidence of intentional fraud. Do they Think I Love Thee!-Song. BY C. C. CALLAN. Do they think, fairone, I love thee— That to me thy eyes are bright As the stars that shine above thee On a calm, clear, summer night: That as sunshine to the flowers — As the flowers to the bee — Or to earth as summer showers, Grateful is thy love to me? Then, indeed, they think but rightiy, For to me thou art most dear; *r.— inii-laity.dreaming nightly, Thou art ever to me near; As the night-hives t'<e even, As theeven daw. As the angels love in tlxyv’n, 8o 1. dearest, Jove but vtm. "■ — God made the lipart. ' Cod made the heart with every chord j Responsive to his love; To cheer, to bless, and keep his word — Like angels hearts above! Twas made to feel for others’ woe, Life’s sorrows to beguile; To sooth the tears the wretched know, And bill the mourner smile. ’I was made tube the charm of earth, Where all affections me. t,; Where every humaublisi, hath birth, And every hope is sweet. ’Twas formed the weak and sad to aid, To bid mis-fortune flee; If man near marred had made. How heavenly earth would be! • Why are country girls cheeks like well printed cotton? Because they are warranted to wash and keep the color. A gentleman who has a very strong desire to be a funny man, sat down upon a hooped skirt the other day. With a desperation equal to any emergency, he whistled. ‘1 am sitting on the- ‘style,’ Alary.’ True Greatness. Chief Justice Marshall was in the habit of going to market himself and carrying home his purchases. Frequently he wouja oe seen returning at sunrise," witn i.poultry in one hand ajid vegetables in the other. On one occasion a fashionable young man from the North, who bad recently removed to Richmond, was swearing violently because he could get no one to carry homo his turkey. AlarshAll stepped up, and, asking him where he lived, said: •That is on my way—l will take it for you. When they came to the house, the young man said: ‘what shall I pay you? ‘O, nothing, said the Chief Justice, ‘it was on my way, and no trouble. •Whois that polite old gentleman who brought home my turkey fo r me? inquired the young man of a bystander. ‘That,’ replied he, ‘is John Marshall, Chief Justice of-lhe United States.’ 'Why did be bring home my turkey?’ To give you a severe reprimand, and and to teach you to attend to your own business,’ was tl.e reply. True greatness never felcs itself above doing anything that is useful; but especially the truly great man will never feel above helping him elf.

ONE ANGRY MOMENT. — BY T. S. ARTHUR. ‘No,’ said Mr. Bray, looking up from I the newspaper he was reading, a.id speakling with unusual sharpness of tone. A young man, one of his clerks, before him. ‘Do you understand me! No—l said. |no! Send Mr. Carlton word that I nei-j I ther borrow nor lend.’ I The clerk had hesitated about sending ( t, fin I - ,,.. of a couple of hundred dollars, within an I hour of bank closing, even on the explan- ! ation that he was ‘short on a note.’ But, ■ at this emphatic confirmation of the first ! refusal, he turned from his employer and ' | went forward to where the messenger of'; Air. Carlton awaited an answer. ‘l’m tired of this eternal borrowing,’ : ■ said Mr. Biay to himself, in justification ( of his angry refusal to accommodate a ■ neighbor. ‘Why don’t he make timely I provision for his notes as I do, and not go money-hunting at thejcleventh hour? I'm ' ■ not going to reduce my bank balance to meet his careless deficiencies. There is ! (too much of this idle dependence among ■ traders to suit my notions of things.’ i But these words of justification did not j i bring the mind of Air. Bray into a state ( ■of calm self-satisiaction. Reason did not ■approve his hastily uttered denial; and ■ (self-respect was hurt by his sudden ebulilion of anger. I 'Send Mr. Carlton word that I neither borrow nor lend. ’ : ‘1 needn’t have just said that!’ Air. . Bray was already in a repentant mood. — I could have refused on any decent pretext I There was no cal! lor an insulting denial.’ I Ah me! How blinding issudden anger! j ( For awhile, Air. Bray sat communing with ( himself, and then taking up Ids pen, drew | a cheek for two hundred Calling | to his cleark. lie said — ‘livre, Thomas, run in with this to Mr. ; Carlton.’ I The young man took the check and ; went out herridly. He came back in a few ; minutes with the cheek still in his hand. ' ‘Why didn t betake it?’asked Air. ; Drftv, hie fc«eo ;n color, L . ■ put the question. ■ ‘He said he was much obliged to you, I but Mr. Agnew had accommodated him. Mr. Bray, in a very quiet manner, tore i the check into small fragments. He felt 'badly. Mr. Agnew had the reputation, [of being the roughest, most unaccotnmoIdatingmanin the neighborhood; while! (die took pride in the thought of being [heM in different estimation. Even Mr. had exceeded hi ■ in amiable prompt business courtesy! He felt rebuked and humbled. I ‘0 dear! I wish I had a Helle decent : i self control!’ he saioNsharply to himself. This quick’feeling, andTrasty action therefrom, are always geting me ißto some kind of trouble. As Air Bray walked homeward.afterleaving his store, that afternoon, ho saw (Mr. Carlton approaching at the lof half a block ahead of him. He was j coovenintly near the corner of a street, I and so taking the flag-stones, lie crossed[over, and thus avoided meeting his neighI bor.’ ‘I don’t like this,’ he said, in some; hnmiliaition, to himself, as he breathed a littly more freely. ‘Skulking like criminal don’t suit me at all! Why should I fear to look any man in the face?’ Mr. Bray was, usually, a cheerful man at home; though he sometimes darkened the home-light for a season, through fits of sudden anger, that soon subsided.— But even the briefly ruling tempest leaves usually some mighty traces of this course, . that require many days of sunshine, gen- ■ tie rains, and refreshing dews to obliterate. It was so with the tempest of Air. Dray s too easily awakened auger. It never darkened the sky, nor swept fiierceily along the earth, without leaving its I ugly marks behind. But, usually he was cheerful in his family, bringing home with him the bright | warm shunshine. It was not so, however, ion the present occasion. This little act (of discourtesy to Air. Carlton, had not only shadowed his feelings, but left his mind disturbed. He wasjustina state to be annoyed by the merest trifles. Two little boys were playing in the passage as he came from the street. At ■ the very moment of his entrance, one oi them hurt the other by accident. The 1 latter screamed out, and, under the pas-! sionate impulse of the moment, charged his brother with striking him. In a dis-. [ ferent state of wind, Mr.' Bray would I have tried a little moral suasion in the i case, or, at least, withheld punishment, [ until he was clearly, thatduty tohischild I required its administration. But, now, ! obeying an unhappy impulse, he caught : up the child who was charged with the offence of striking, and punished him with j smarting stiokes. At the moment oi his j ■ doing so, the mother of the children, who

“Our Country’s Good shall ever be our Aird—Willing to Praise and not afraid to Bl?me.’

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, JULY 21,1857. - - ■ i.n— n .air;-Y.r.- r-WIFT——

had seen all that passed between them, called out earnestly—‘Stou! Stop, Henry! He didn’t strike his brother on purpose. It was all an ac- : I cident!’ | Butthis appeal came ‘to late. Thi I wrong had been done. ‘lt’s a shame!’ said the 1 " mother, Avh* felt everv painful blow the child had I ceived, and who spoke from the I indignant impulse. Mr. Bray did not feel any better. j ting the child down, without ju.tJ.v, to liis. w.LG.'.’-griwja.iJ . v,;A .. > '.-«g self into the great arm-chair. Nq or.*,' ventured to come near him for some. timi<( so he had fair opportunity for self-com-1 ' manion. At last, a todling little curly--head, who generally bailed her father’-!; ■return with joy, came sidling into the; | room, and with a half-timid air, made her ; way bj’ almost stealthy approaches Io the J I side of the moody man. Curiously sin. lifted her eyes to his clouded couutenanc.-,, stood for a moment or too, as if in doubt, 1 anitthen clambered up, and laid her ; en tresses against his bosom. As she j did so, the father’s arm w..s drawn ! around her. But' little curly-head wa* ' not, in her unselfish innocence, content | with the sunshine of favor for her-a :1 | alone. ‘Papal’ Her voice had in it something , of doubt. ‘What is it my little pet!’ And Mr. Bray, who was penetrated by the child * ■ si,here of tenderness, kissed her pu;' 1 ■i ‘Willy didn’t hurt Eddy a purpose. — He didn’t strike him-’ ‘But Eddy said that Willy struck him. The father sought to justify himself in the eyes of his child. i ‘Eddy only thought so.’ replied little curly-head. ‘Willy didn’t strike him at , all.’’ Mr. Bray said nothing more; but he felt very uncomfortable. W hen tiie teabell rung, he went, with litllc cui ly lie >l, jto t; i dining room. All the rest u! die ■ family bad kept away from him. Mrs. Bray looked particular sober; and Willy, who had been set all i ight as to Lis coni'duct by his mother’s declaration that lie imd n< : of slr'l Mg. put !to the life, an air of injured innocence — j Mr. Bray did not speak oiic;; during the meal, but sat in silence, with a heavily ; clouded brow. i For that evening the accustomed pleasant talks, cheerful smiling facts, and merry laughture were banished from the ! home of Mr. Henry Bray. A single moment of anger had' clone this unhappy work. It was something better at. the family re-union the mxt morning. Sleep had wrought its usual work of restoring ! the mind to its better states, and calming • its pulses to an even beat. As Mr. Bray left Iris house something earlier than usual and was walking along, ; with his eyas cast down, thinking over [certain mutters of business that would " require his attention, a man came to his ■ side, and, in a pleasant voice, said—'hx'Good morning, Mr Bray!’ T’Ue merchant glanced up, with a Ligh- [ teninsSqlor info the face of this person ' who had overtaken him in ids rather deliberate walkXJle knew the voice. It was that of Air. LXHlon. •Good nooning.’ The response was not hearty. How could it i ‘I was sorry to trouble you, yesterday, said Mr. Carlton, speaking irix.J ra,l k’ ■ cheerful way. ‘But a friend, to wLqiii 1 1 had loaned a sum of money, ‘ me at the last moment, and I was compel- ■ led to bori >w at the unseasonable hour. Your kind effort to serve me was none the ' less appreciated because I had no need 1 i for the check when you were so obliging [as to send it in. Air. Agnew had, ali ready supplied my tiifling deficiency.’ Now, what answer could Air. Bray ’ make to this? Was Mr. Carlton actually •; in earnest? as he really so dull as to appreciated his rougn, insulting m >sago oi the day beluie. Or. was this cour- [ teoiis acknowledgment of an almost exTorted favor a rebuking piece of irony’ ‘lt would have gratified me if rpu had 1 sued the check,’ replied Mr. Bray his voice a little below its usnal firmness [of tone. ‘lt was tendered in all sincerity. *1 never doubted that for an instant,’ [ said Air. Carlton, as if surprised that his ; neighbor should intimate, even remotely a question of his right appreciation, of the favor. Air. Bray’s reputation as a i curteous, gentlemanly merchant, and a [ kind-hearted man, forbid any other tn-: ; ference.’ Now this, Mr. Bray felt, was crowding ; him a little too hard; and he was considI erably annoyed. ‘Tell Mr. Carlton that; [ neither borrow nor lend.’ Could he fori get that rough answer to his neighbor’s request for a couple of hundred dollars, | at a late hour in the day, when his bank [account was. still short? No. He could ! not forget it; and that neighbore’s cotnpli-1 ! ments upon his mercantile and manly viri tuC, ounded too much like covert rebuke (o ln in the ni.illc; t measure agreeable.

So he changed the subject, by referring 1 to some general topic, managed to appear ! interested, until, their wavs diverging.! I they, parted with courteous forms of! I speech. ‘I don’t like that,’ said Mr. Bray to ( ’ himself, as. he walked on alone. ‘All this is mere hypocritcal assumption; and, . 1 under the circumstances, I can scarcely : regard it as levs than insulting; and if he (talks again to me after this fashion, 1 will tell him so.’

IJl£ ,?OQn...occur red. It f-. droit -.w Mr. Carlton entere his •".ore, and come back to where he was sitting at his desk. There was a familiar :.nii!e upon his countenance, and he looked altogether self-possessed. ‘Good morning again,’said he with j I much apparent frankness of manner. ‘Good morning.’ Mr. Bray tried to [ ! look pleasent, and tried to assume a perI feelly composed exterior, but the elements ,of excitement where moving within him. I There was always a point beyond which ■ sslf-control was. impossible, and lie felt j that Mr. Carlton was pressing him beyond that point. In his uncourteous refusal ' to lend him two humiied dollars, he had ■ done wrong; but to the best of Lis ability, ■he had endevored to repair that wrong, and Mr. Carlton shonld have r.ccepted ; his tender of repentance, and not insulted [ I him by throwing Air. Agnew in his face ! along with his rejected loan. Mr. Agnew! Known throughout the trade us one ol ! the most uncorteous and disobliging of men! Iti that act he had given a sufficient rebuke; and there, in Mr. Bray’s ' opinion, he shoull be willing to let j the ( matter rest. I But it seemed that Air. Carlton felt! differently, as lie had shown in his ironi- ■ cal reference to the matter at their meet- ( i.ig on the street; and it was plain to M: ’ Bray, from the manner of his neighbor, that he had come to annoy him again, with some reference to a cirnums'i.nee ; that he desired to forget as quickly a ■ [possible. He was not altogether miste- ■ ken. Foliowinglhe ‘Good in 'thing again, of Mr. Carlton, succeeded ll.is sentence, as spoken with ail the cheerful frankness of a man in earnest. ■ Yinir >Hml. ---s v ’I. itwy, ...wltco n-<<3 a! little presuming to-day. i will take that check now if you have it to spare. Aly friend has disappointed me again, and 1 have several payments to miike. The smile had faded from Mr. Carlton’s face, tie this sentence was finished, for, instead of meeting a countenance of kind compliance —stern, almost flashing eyes looked s‘c:.'li!y to his and compressed lips gave warning of a refusal. ■ ‘There ha- been enough of this already!. said Mr Bray, with repressed excitement. 'Enough of what?’ Air. Carlton looked j surprised. ‘Enough of insulting reference to my; act of yesterday!'answered Mr. Bray. ■ ‘lnsuring? What do you metin'.’’And i Mr. Carlton drew himself up, and looked II quite as indignant.as his neighbor. ‘My tvords are verv plain. You un- [ I derstand the King’s English, I presume?’ [ j ‘I had supposed so. But yours is al (dielect with which I .am not familiar, and ' ■ I must beg you to supply the glossary ’ ( ‘Let me do that,’ said the clerk of Air. I ; Bray, stepping forward at their juncture. . ‘Do so, if you please, .and I will be a thousand times obliged.’ And Mr. Carl-' ton moved back a pace or two, awaiting the clerk’s explination. ‘Permit me?’ The clerk looked at Air. I Bray. XjSay on, Thomas,’ was answered. •When Air. Carlton sent in for the two: ■ hundreikdollars yesterday, you were an-' noyed aboht something, and returned | ' 1 rather an uncorteous refusal—one alto- : gether so unlike ybqrself, that I could not ( 'do you the injustice oMetting it pass to ■ j our neighbor unqualified! tip I softened the refusal, to make it sound as much ; like a regret tor not complying ~s I pos-. sibly could. 1 knew that you would; (think and Teel differently in a few mo-1 ments, and 1 was not mistaken, as the 1 j offered check proved. That is the glossary, Air. Carlton, which you asked, and I trust that it will make al! clear. Did Ido right, or wrong, Mr. Bray?’ The. 1 young man turned, with a half-timid look, ‘ j to his rather nassionanteemployer, whose! ■ words were- of so uncertain a character that it was hard to calculate the direction of their impulse. A moment of silence passed, and then Air. Bray said, with | feeling—‘Right Thomas, right! And 1 thank ' you for such judicious conduct.’ The young inan bowed, and retired to[ wait upon a customer. For a little while the two men stood ■ looking at each other’ each so impressed ■ with a sense of the ludicrous, that the I muscles of resibility were all in play. •Y ti have the glossary,’ said Mr. Bray’ I at length, a broad smile covering his face. ‘Giving the clearest meaning to your words, a moment ago, so full of mystery, i was au .wercd, with us broad a smile in return.

•You wont refuse my cheek, 1 presume, and Mr. Bray turiv I to his desk. 'Just try me,’ said Mr Carlton, in a [ voice that left no doubt of ills meiydng 1 ‘Will two hundred be sufficient?’ ‘You can make it three, if you are over « to-day.’ ‘Three hundred it is, Mr Carlton, 1 said the tneichant, the thermometer of ‘ whose feelings had risen from zero to sum-. 1 mer heat,’ and whenever 1 can accomodate ' you in matters of this kind, don t fad to 1 I command me. If a* it may happen some- 1 • ‘ • '...1- '..uiuble, my , ; clerk there will act as a cushiua, and pre- ; ! ven! you keeling ihe shock of m_v tx »npo- ' rary ill-nature. I didn't know, i.efm j, 1 that I had so di.M rcet an assistant.’ i i'liere were a worjuer atmosphere in '.■ ( the home of Afr. B ay, on the evening j 1 ! that succeeded this rather clouded morn- : ' ling, that on the one which preceded when ‘ I the shadow of a single angry monien; I ' wa> iarue and dense enough to cover the ■ 1 (he whole house-hol i with a leaden nail. I ' ' Little curly-head leaped into her father’s"]' i arms almost upon the Instant of his re- ' i turn, and liugged him with nil the out'pushing love other innocent heart; and 1 E.ldy and Willy, the trouble of the pastj , evening forgotten, were ready for lie n ' game of romps, an i enjoyed to their ■ heart’s content. Thu mother, too, was ,' ' smiling and Jiapriy. That, evening wa> [ marked as one of the green pl aces in their : 1 ( home-life; and, but for the impulsive act ([ [of a single angry moment, the prev'ousi' evening would have left, with every he n i as sweet a remembrance. I'er.-everniicc. I There is something noble i‘< any man j who brea-ts difficulties, with t! ■* firm de- ( ■ termination to conquer then), in spite of 1 j the bariies which oppose his own onward ■ 1 ; progress. We would n>tgo as far as a ■ | celebrated po.-t went, when lie broadly as- I . ; sorted that a man might do any tiling he ’ ' |chose, because God had given him arms! . long enough, if he would but take the;' trouble to extend them; but we do nio.-.t emphatically say, that success is nearer 1 to the. grasp of most men than is g< net ally . supposed. Indeed, obstacles ate. but the ■ dykes wiiieh pi event the pure w i: rs of I - time:—the | inquiring mind, like a sinuous river, |[ swells; and presses aglinst theobstructing 1 ( barrier between it and the wide sea of in , tellect; —hour after hour, day after day. , iit increases, an If< 1 and swollen by nu , merous tribulery streams, it at lenghti sweeps over the now feeble but once for- j midable impediment, and rejoiceingin iu( j self-acquired strength, sweeps onward in ; ’ triumph. The mind ot man w.s never : ■ intended by its great Creator to be inac- I 1 j live. Onward! i* the cry of every one.— J ( Alas! there arc- some who thinking them- 1 | selves wise, become fools; they travel on- , ’ i ward, but like n wanderer in dark morass, ( 1 ' sec only flitting and uncertain lights which ' ' lure them on to perilous paths. There;’ i are othess who scorning false gleams, seek ' for the true rays—men who lift their eves ; , from earth, and overlooking the glow- ■ 1 ( wc rm behold the stars of Hope and Truth j 1 shining in the clear sky. Sachas these;' I tread their daily paths in full assurance j ! I that the seeds they sow as they travel!' I >dong life’s highway will spring up and | bear fruit. They faint not, nor tall bv ;' the way; and though torn by thorns bii- 1 1 jars, they at last receive the reward of!' their patient endurance and unremitted ' perseverance—Success. , ; The Rev. Air. Peters, of Attleboro,’ ■ was slightly eccentric in his habits, and ■ I this encourged liis people to be free-and easy with him. One time he has wander- r ling over the hills, and got lost in the:, woods. At last he came upon a party , jof men burning wood for' charcoal, but j j they were so blackened that he did not ( [ I recognize them, though they were his own | i parishioners. Approaching them he said: j I ‘Can you tell me who I am, where I’m ! j from, and where I’m going? , I To which they replied: ‘You are Par- [ son Peters, you are from Attleboro,’ and I you are going to the wicked place. The parson reponded; ‘From the looks of the inhabitants, 1 should think I had j got there already.

i Irish Wi ;- —One of our eminent lawyers, of Irish decent, was engaged some time since to defend an Irishini.n who had been charged villi theft. Assuming the prerogative of his position, the counsel, in a private interview with his client, said to him. ‘Now, Patrick, ns I am to defend you, 1 want you to tell me franklv whether yon are guilty or not. Did you steal the goads?’ ‘Faith, then,’says Pat,‘l s’ pose 1 must tell yez. In troth, 1 did stale ’em.’—Then you ought to bo ashamed of yourself to come here ai.d disgrace your country by stealing,’ said the honest counsel—'ln ti .th, sir, maybe I ought; but, then, if I diden't stale, you wouldn’t have the honor and crcdu of gelling inc off.

Denn Swift and his Tailor A tailor in dublin, near the residence of the Dean, took it, into the ‘ninth part’ of his head that he was specially and divinely inspired to interpret the piophecies and especially the book of Revelations. — Quitting the shop-board, he turned out n prea. her, or rather a prophet, until his customers had left his shop, and his fam- 1 ily were likely to famish. ‘ His monomania was well known to the Dean, who be nevloen'dy watched tor an opportunity to turn the current of his thoughts. One night the tailor, as he fancied, got. an esp. c',d revela’ion go and covert. Dean t'W'.ft, and next morning took ftp the line of march t , the deanery. Thu Dean, whose study was furnished with a gla door, ,iw the tailor approach, and instantly surmised the nature of his erland. Throwing himself into an attitude of sidetnnitv and thoU'ditfiilness, with die Bibie opened b tore him, and his eyes fixed on tiie 10th chapter of Revelations, lie an ailed his approach. The door opened, and t!ie tailor announced, in an unearthly voice—'Dean Swift, 1 am sent by the Almighty to announce to vuu ’ 'Conic in, my friends,’ said the Dean, I’m in great truub'e aid nodoubtthe Lord lias ent jou to help me out of my dittlcrrlty.’ This unexpected welc me inspired the tailor, and strengthened Lis assurance in fi. -o .'- . hi. ■i • char i er, and disposed him to listen to tl.e disclosure. . ‘My friend,’ s li the Dean, ‘I have just been i •-adi.-.g t -■ If!, ciapter of Revela:imi-, and am gieady di-tressed at a difficulty I hav. met with, and you are tho very man sent to help me out. Here it an account of an angel that came down from heaven, who was so large that he placed onr foot on the earth and lifted ahis hands to heaven. Now my know! edge of mathematics, continued the Dean, has enabled me to calculate exactly tl.e size ai;J form of this angel; but 1 am in great difficulty, fur I wish to ascertain how much cli,:i; it will take to make liiin a pair of breeches; and as that is exact!/ in yourdiiie of bu-cness, 1 have no doubt the Lord has sent you to show me.’ This exposiiicn came like an electric shock to the pool tailoi 1 He resticd from • I -I, ,j, revu! ion of thought nnd feeling camu over him. Al iking breeches was exact ly in hi-; line of busim-s. He returned to his occupation thoroughly cured of prophetical i vel rtion by the wit of the Dean. A .sunk ■ *l ry. Savs the lawyer. ‘Animals sometimes very n< ally appi !. r . '.:i in cunning.’ ‘I got inter< stud in the study of serpents down in Arkansas, where 1 spent the most of 1 r-t. v ear. I don’t know w l:y but 1 was com tnfly v. Iching them and testing their Wgacitv, bv placing them in new situations, and surrounding them with novel expedients. Os nil kinds L experimented most with rattle-snakes and copperheads. ‘One afternoon I seated myself on a little knoll in the woods to smoke and read—for 1 al ways had book or newspaper with me, and had been enjoying myself some time, when 1 esj ied a copperhead making for a hole within ten feet of wh.ere I sat. Os course I threw down my book and cigar, and proceeded to try a new experiment. As soon us I stirred the rascal made a rush for the hole; but I caught Ins tail as he got nearly in, mid jerked him some twenty feet backward. He threw himself into a coil in no time, and waited for me to pitch in. But I concluded to let him try his hole again, After a while he started for it stopping when I stirred, to coil himself up; but as I kept pretty quiet he recovered confidence and again went in. Again I jerked him out. No sooner did lie hit the ground than he made a grand rush fur the hole in a straight line for rny legs! But that didn't work, for I got out oi the way and gave him another flirt! This time he lay still awhile, appearing to reflect on the course to be taken. After a time he tried it again, though rather slowly. After getting l.is head a little way in, he stopped and wiggled his tail, as if on purpose to get me to grab it. I did so; and quicker than a flash, he drew his head out and came within about a quarter of an inch of striking me in the face. However I jerked him quite a distance, and resolved to! iok out next time. Well, he tried the same game again, but it wouldn't work—lwas too quick for him. This lime he lay in a coil half an hour without stirring. At last, howevui, la» tiied it once mon . He advanced to within live feet of the holo very slowly, coiled again, and then, by heaven.-! got the start of me bj r one of the cutest n ick* you ever heard of. 'How was it?' we ail exclaimed, in or.j breath. ‘Why,’said the narrator, sinking, voice to the acme of solemnity, and look mg as hone»» and sober as a man could look, ‘why lie jus! turned his head toward my h ind, and went down that hole tai! first!’

NO. 24.