Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 9, Decatur, Adams County, 9 April 1858 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EAGLE.

VOL. 2.

THE EAGLE.’! PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY PHILLIPS & SPENCER, Office, on Main Street, in the old School House, one Square North of J. & P Crabs' Store Terms of Subscription ! For one year. $1 50, in advance; $1 75, within the year, and $2 00 after the year has expired. ! paper will be discontinued until all arrerages are paid, except at the option of the Publishers. — Terms of Advertising: One square, (ten lines) three insertions, $1 00 Each subsequent insertion, 25 EFNo advertisement will be considered less than one square; over one square will be counted 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 terms. Otir material for the compile-1 Mon of Job-Work, being new and of the latest styles, and we feel confident that satisfaction can be given. THE CURL OF GOLDEN HAIR. The following beautiful and touching lines which we clip from a California exchange, contains a pathos, a feeling and expression unsur- i passed by anything of the kind that has for some ’ time fallen under our notice. They will strike a tender chord in the bosom of many a fond mother who cherishes with sad recollections the memory of some darling child long since buried with the hopes and pleasures of the past: I have a little treasure, More beautiful to me, Than aught of gold or silver, Or brightest gems I see, ’Tis not a costly jewel— In casket rich and fine — Nor ret a thing of value, To other hearts than mine, And still I deem it priceless, More precious farthan gold; More beautiful and lovely, Than earthly gems all told. ’Tis not. in iron coffers My treasures safe I keep. And though I prize it highly, I often o'er it weep, In a closely folded paper. And laid away with care Lies a little sunny ringlit, A curl of golden hair. With beauty once it shaded A fair and lovely brow; And though long years h»i» wasted, Methinks I see it now. How oft my fingers pressed it, And twin'd it o'er and o'er, AH wet with tears and anguish; Such Tears can flow no more— For the angels come and called him To live with them above, While my heart was all o'eidlowing With a mother's earliest love. The,Of how sad and lonely Was everything to me; His playthings all were gathered, For those I could not sec; Wn put away his cradle, With his little cushioned chair; And my heart, like them, was vacant, For hope had withered there. In the dark cold grave we laid him; Where the weeping willows bow; And of him this precious relic Is all that's left me now. Is it Strang*- that I'should love it, And guard it well with care; Thia little glossy ringlet, This curl of golden hair. The Lecompton Party Leaders.—lt is a significant fact, that the prominent leaders of the Lecompton party were, eight years ago, the most bitter opponents of the National Democracy. Toombs, of Georgia, was an ultra Whig until there was no Whig party left, aud one of the most bitter denouncers of Democratic measures. The same may be, said of Stephens, who was a rabid Whig until since Gen. Taylor’s election. John Cochrane, who is now one of the file-lead-1 f-rs of this now party, was a Van Buren' and Adams Free-soiler until a good o slice! held out inducements for a charge of po- I litic’s; and Dix, John Van Buren, and a majority of the Northern Lecomptonites now in Congress, sympathized in politics! with the Buffalo Platform Free-soil Abol -l ition doctrines, and did everything in their, power to defeat the nominees of the Democratic party in 1848.— States. ‘My German friend, how long have you been married?’ •Veil, tis a. thing vat I seldom don’t like to tank about; but ven I does, it seems, to be so long as it never vas.’ An Irishman being asked, on a late trial, for a certificate of his marriage,; bsred his head, and exhibited a huge scar, which looked as though it might have been made with a fire shovel. The evidence wn? satisfactory.

ADVENTURE OF A BASHFUL LOVER. His name was Denphule—we used to call him ’Jackass,’ for short. Heaven help me if he should ever see this story. 1 hope he don’t take the ’papers.” — Among his many misfortunes for he cockeyed, red haired and knock kneed he numbered that inconvenient one of bashfulness. Nevertheless he was fond of the ladies, although when in their presence lie never opened his mouth when he could . j help it, and when he did speak he used both hands to help him talk in fact, he was a young man of great actions.' Jack one warm day, fell in love; he had just 'graduated at college, and began to think he must seek the ladies, society; he was l beginning to be a man, and it looked manIly to have a ‘penchant.’ So Jack fell in love with tho sweetest liveliest, mosthoyendish girl in the square, but, how tell his love, there was the rub. He had heard a great deal of the ‘languages of the eyes,’and he accordingly tried that, but whenever he looked particularly hard at the window where Miss. Emily was in the habit of sitting, some person on the | other side of the street would bow to him j thinking he was endeavoring to catch i “their” eye He has despised expressi ive eyes ever since. At length Jack obtained an introduc-( Cion through his sister, and with her he ' called several times, but she was obliged I to leave the city for a season, and as each visit had only increased his ardor, he finally determined on going alone. Long before the hour fixed upon by custom, for an evening visit had arrived, he found 1 I himself arrayed in his best. Blue coat, I metal buttons black cassimere pants, (said I pants being a’’leetle” tighter than the skin,) and a spotless vest. The journals) I of the day state as an item of information : i that the thermometer ranged from 75 to; 180 deg. Jack swears it was a hundred. As the hour drew gradually near, Jack 'found his courage and prespiration oozing out together, and he almost deter- , mined to pull off and stay at home. He ( (concluded however, he’d take a walk past I the house and see how he felt. By the lime he reached the mansion be firmly I concluded not to go in, but, on casting an eye towards the parlor window', and preI ceiving no signs of life there, be thought it probable no one was at home, and since ( he had proceeded thus far, he would proi ceed father, and leave hiscard. No sooner determined than concluded. In a reckless manner he pulled the bell, be was ' sure he only just touched—it the darned : thing needn’t make such a “cussed” ; noise. The door was opened as if by magic, and the servant politely requested ' him to walk in “Miss Emily was all alone in the parlor and would be delighted to : see him.’ O, Lord, here was a fix. Go in a dark parlor with a pretty girl all alone! It was to late to retreat; the girl had closed ' the frontdoor, and was pointing the way into the parlor where “Miss Emily was ! sitting all alone. Being perfectly convinced that no choise was left him, into the dark room he walked or rather sidled. Ail was perfect chaos to his eye fur a moment, but only for a moment; then from the deepest 1 gloom canie forth an angel voice ‘bidding him welcome and draw near? To obey the order was but the work of a moment, as he supposed but be little dreamed of ■ the obstacle fate had thrown in his way. He well knew the steamer of love had many ripples, but full grown snags never entered into his calculation, Judge, i therefore, of his astonishment at being tripped up, almost at the fair one's feet, (by a lat stool with plethoric legs, which I chance or a careless servant had placed exactly in his way to happiness. Over he went, and as the tailor had not allowed for an extra tension of muscles and sinlews, he not only procuied a tumble, but j . also a compound fracture extending all across that point which comes in close ' contact with thechaii. Having picked ' himself up as carefully as circumstances would allow, the smothered laugh of Miss Emily not setting him forward any, Ihe at last succeeded in reaching a chair, i and drawing his coat tails forward to pre- , vent a disagreeable exposure, sat himself down with as much grace as a bear would be expected to exhibit when requested to i dance on nettles. The young lady, who was almost suffocated with laughter at the mishap of the bashful lover, felt truly • sorry for him, and employing all his powI ers of fascination to drive it from bis mind eventually succeeded so far as to induce him to make a remark. Andon this rock he split, fur just at that moment she discovered that she had lost her handkerchief. What had become of it? She was sure she ht.d it when he came in! It 'must certainly be somewhere about.'— Have you got it under you, Mr. Danphule? Jack was sure that could not be so? but poor Jack, in venturing an an- ( swer, could not possibly get a long with--1 out raising his hands, and of course he must let drop his coat tail. In bis anxiety to recover the missing ‘viper,’ he

“Our Country’s Good shall ever be our Aim—Willing to Praise and not afraid to Blame.”

DECATUR. ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, APRIL 9, 1858.

even ventured to incline his body so as to get a glance on the floor. As be did so the fracture opeued, and there lay, as the lady supposed, her property. It was the' work of an instant to seize the corner and exclaim —‘Here it is sir; you needen’t trouble yourself! Rise a little it’s under you ail’ the same time giving it a long) pull. Alas, the “tail” was now told no ;escape nothing short of a special Providence could save his shirt. But what should he do? Another, and another, a stronger pull evincing on the part of the lady praiseworthy determination to ob- i tain the lost "dry goods,’ coupled .wit . the request to ‘'Get up sir—you’re sitting on it, “determined him; and in the agony ; of the moment, grabbed with both hand a fast disappearing strip of linen which encircled his neck, he exclaimed in heartbroken accents — For God’s sake, Miss Euiily, leave my shirt collar.' - m 111 PAINTING OR DEATH. An artist of talent who went to pursue his studies in Algiers, has recently returned to Paris, bringing from his artistic expedtion true treasures of curiosity and study; monuments, interiors, types of all j races, costumes, airmals stuffed, <fcc. He I brings also exact copies made by himself ,of the original pictures which decorated I one of the palaces of the ancient Deys.— The copies indicate very strange originals but the circumstances under which the originals were executed were stranger still. About the beginning of the present century, the then reigning Dey of Algiers bad all the European captives led guarded into the courtyard. Advancing to ward the first captive, be asked brus- : quely. ‘Do you know how to paint? ) ‘No,’ was the answer, ‘I do not. The Dey made a sign, and the captive ' was instantly beheaded. ‘Do you know how to paint? he asked of the second. lie, frightened at the fate of the first, hesitated to reply, and in another mo(ment his head rolled on the floor. ‘Do you know how to paint? was still the question asked. ‘No—that is—l believe—l think that-’ ‘Ah! you are not sure!’ exclaimed tho Dey, and he shared the fate of his comrades. The fourth captive was an intrepid and audacious Parisian, an o\i gamin de Pairs who had very often stopped at the doors of wine cellars or of restaurants to look at the little daubs illustrative of bottles and full glasses, venison, piesand legs o! pork. ‘Do I know how to paint!’ he exclaimed, when the question was put to him.— ‘I am the best, pupil of the illustrious David, the painter of the Emperor. What do you require, oh! sweet and clement Dev? •You shall speedily know what I wish said the Dey, proceeding on. The example of the Parisian had told the others what they ought to do; they all replied that they knew how to paint. ' The Dey, enchanted at his success, placed all these painters, there were about i thirty, under the orders of the Parisian, and then ordered this battalion of impromptu artists to ornament the walls of one of his palaces with paintings. ‘I wish,’ said lie, ‘that you should paint Mecca, the tomb of the Prophet, my principal naval victories, and everything you like, provided the paintings be worthy of me; if not, 1 shall cut of! your heads.’ Colors and brushes were provided, and our painters set about their work. The Parisian was imaginative. The Mus- ■ sulman religion forbidding the representation of the human figure, his task was , already simplified; he painted the sea and i naval battles, where ships only were seen,( ; and not a sailor. Bullets and bombs ' crossed each other in the air, obscured I by clouds of flame and smoke; but not an 1 artilleryman was seen behind the pieces. | I Aiding himself by his memory of a magic lantern, he made the sky of a fair blue, ( lin which he painted the sun, moon and ] stars. Then he painted the great phenomena of nature, storms torrents, volcanoes in eruption vomiting flames and smoke. The Parisian and liis battalion of painters employed the liveliest colors, and though the effect produced was not harmonious, it was dazzling. The Dey was enchanted. Happily foreign connoisseurs in painting never penetrating ; into his palace, no criticism was made, and the Paiisian passed, in the eyes of the Dey, for one of the greatest painters (of France. Not only did he and his associates preserve their heads on their ' shoulders, but to recompense them the i Dey gave them their liberty. These are the paintings which a true artist has copied. Strange as they are j things which denote a singular intelligence on the part of the Parisian. They are moreover an interesting specimen of what the most absolute inexperience, and the most complete ignorance of art, can produce when obliged to struggle against, necessity and for the preservation of life. ' Translated for the Boston Gazette.

I SHALL BE SATISFIED. Satisfied! What a word is that! Did you ever try to sound it with the line of ! your desires? If you tried could you ever find bottom? If you essayed to measure it could you ever find any shore? No.no, you could not. There is no , thought or wish that can measure it, no yearning that can sound its depths of meaning. The youog who have not yet I known it, wonder what is that mysterious joy of love requited; and when the experience thrills upon them they can hardly (endure the blessedness of having thisone lunging satisfied—they arc afraid of believe in their own happiness. They seem ; to bathe and revel in an ocean of delight; and this all because in regard to one need of the soul, and for (alas! too often) a little time they are satisfied. But oh! the satisfaction that is universal andeterjnal, that shall leave nothing in quantity, ; quality, or duration, to be desired, what i can it be? From that one word shines' ]forth such peaceful glory as gilds and sometimes annihilates this world’s unrest. I ( Few indeed there are who reach middle (life without having felt, with sinking soul, - how utterly unable are all the blessings lof this world to satisfy the cravings of the immortal mind. How many are there ( who have never sat down purposely to examine into the wants of their own heart, only to discover there was not a single I slate or situation of which they could i think (and which they would have a right to enjoy if they were able,) that presented •to them a warrranted peace? It is true ithat to persons in such hours of self-ques-tioning there comes often some soft, winI ning vision at which they have no business to look, and which says to them,’ (‘Here, and here only then is what could ensure your happiness;’ but only because it is forbidden does it seem enehantingly and althogether fair. YVere it lawful for them it would become at once, like other I pleasures, unsatisfying. But we can bear all this insufficiency of the present ; supply of our needs, when we remember j that at last we shall be satisfied, and ; with a largeness and bounty so overwhel- ( ming that now we cannot even conceive (of it. There is no right longing made to Igo unfulfilled. A pure longing in the soul is God’s promise; and He will not forget or tail to make it good, and that I where what we wish for will no more be j given soon to bn sent away or left, bel cause wc must lie down with faces* cov- ; ered.' The world is full of pleasures and sweet jovs that we are not permitted to share; | and we are tempted of the devil every I day to taste forbidden fruit; and often we go mourning and bowed down heavily, because the things most dear and charming to our hearts must be denied. But; there is power to make it easy to resist ( ( temptation, and to walk through life a ; pauper in all its delights, in the assurance which we have that all that is really good I for us in every lovely and coveted pleas- ■ , ure, both of the spiritual and natural realm, we shall find infinitely augmented (in Him who is the source of all beauty, happiness, and love—if ‘we awake in his (likeness.’ a. h. Mpenkiug Well ol Others. The following article inculcates much ; good advice in a small space: ‘lf the disposition to speak well of others were universally prevalent, the world ' would become a perfect paradise. The opposite disposition is the Pandora-box, which, when opened, fills every neighborhood with pain and sorrow. How many ( enmities and heart burnings -flow from this source! How much happiness is inI terrupted and destroyed! Envv, jealousy and the malignant spirit of evil, when they find vent by the lips, go forth on their mission like foul fiends, to blast the reputation and peace of others. Every one has his imperfections, and in conduct of the best there will be occasional faults which might seem to justify animadversion. It is a good rule, however, when i there is occasion for fault finding, to do it piivately to the erring one. This will prove salutary. It is a proof of interest in the individual, which will generally be kindly, if the manner of doing it be riot offensive. The common and unchristian rule, on the contrary, is to proclaim the railings of others to all but themselves — This is unchristian, and shows a despicable heart. — Hi Hl A ‘Royal’ Typo.—According to an ancient usage in Prussia, all the Princes of the royal family must learn a trade. It is stated that the prince Frederick William, just married to the Princes Royal of i England, learned the trade of a composi- . tor in the printing office of Mr. Hauai at Berlin. ■ YY'heat and Rice.—Wheat., although consideied by some as a native of Siciy, originally came from the central table , land of Thibet, where it yet exists as grass I with small, mealy seed. Rice was i first brought from South Africa, whence ;it was taken to India, and thence to Eu- 1 rope and America.

Follies of Foolish Parents. The solicitude of parents, especially mothers, to make their daughters fiue ladies is truly rediculous. How often soi ever the poor child has occasion to look at anything below the paralle-1 of the horizon and a little relax the muscles of the neck, it can hardly ever escape the notice of her mamma or her governess, and she is bid, with more than common poignancy of expression, to bold up her head, perhaps more than a thousand times in a day. It one of her shoulders should be thought to rise but an hair’s breath higher then j the other, she is immediately bound and braced, twisted and screwed, in a most unmerciful manner, and tortured almost ; to death in order to correct the supposed irregularity. And lest the dear creature :in the natural play and free use of her limbs, should contract any unirenteel habits, the dancing master must be called in at least three times a week to put every ' part of the body into its due place and attitude, and teach her to sit, stand, and and walk, according to the exact rules of j his art, which to be sure must infinitely exceed all the simplicity of untutored nature. Should the least pimple appear on any part of the face, or what is still more alarming, should the milk maid’s flush j of health begin to betray itself in the color of the checks, all possible means must be used, phisic and diet must be endangered or to suppress that vulgar complexion. These have been the prevailng modes of female education, so far as they respect the care of the person; and though we would not have these to be totally neglected, yet we cannot but think, that the methods suggested by such passionate fondness for external appearances, have not only generally failed of their intention, but, in some particular instances, produced quite contrary effects.— j Health and beauty have been frequently I destroyed by a solicitous care to preserve them, deformity induced and a thousand ill habits contracted bv the very means that were intended to prevent them. But (suppose we had it in our daughters fine ladies, and set them off with all the striking embellishment of external appearance and form, so as to captivate all the j thoughtless and inconsiderate that come in their way, should we not be in danger of losing all the fruits of internal and rational culture, those real accomplismenta of mind and manners, are of infinitely (greater moment, and which cannot fail to ; recommend ihem to people of true taste (and discernment? And when so much care and time are employed on the one, can it be expected (bat there should be sufficient time or a proper disposition for the other? 'Necessity of Attention to Little things. 1 It has been remarked, that the world punishes with too great severity the error (of those who imagine that the ignorance of little things may be compensated by the knowledge of great; for so it is, that as more can detect petty failings than can 1 distinguish or esteem great qualifications, a>'d as mankind is in general more easily disposed to censure than to admiration, contempt is often incurred by slight mistakes, which real virtue or usefulness cannot counterbalance. Yet such mistakes and inadvertencies, I it is not easy for a man deeply immersed in study to avoid; no man can become qualified for the common intercourse of file by private meditation: the matters of the world are not a regular system, plan- ■ ned by philosophers upon settle principles in which eve r y cause has a congruous effect, and one part has a just reference to another. Os the fashions prevalent in every country, a few have arisen perhaps from particular temperatures of the climate, a few more from the Constitution of the government; but the greater part have grown up bv chance, been started by caprice, been contrived by affectation, or borrowed without any just motives of choice from other countries. Os all these, the savage that hunts his prey upon the mountains, and the sage that speculates in his closet, must necessarily live in equal ignorance; yet by the observation of these trifles it is, that the ranks of mankind are kept in order, that the address of one to another is regulated and the general business of the world carried on with facility and method. I Stand Fast.— Under the trials of life, stand fast! Would you wish to live witha trial? Then you would wish to die but half a man—at the very best, but Haifa man. Without trial you cannot guess at your own strength. Men do not learn to I swim on a table. They’ must go into deep water and buffet the surges. If you would know their whole strength, of what they are capable, throw them overboard! — with them! and if they are worth saving, they will swim ashore of themselves. The laws of usury punish a man for making as much as he can of his money, I although he is freely allowed to make as' much money as be can.

(Jheatiug the Devil. Squire H , living in the town of A , was a man in easy circumstances, with every thing enough in doors and out.— In Lis yard was a large pile of wood, sawed and split, and sufficient in bulk to keep a dozen families tbiough the winter, with enough more where that came from. Across the street from Squire II , lived Mrs. W., a poor widow woman in straightened circumstances, with four mouths to feed and four little bodies to warm besides ; her own. Squire H., doted on his big wood pile, and was in the habit of taking a peep at it through the closed blinds of his window before retiring at night. One night he saw a female hanging around the pile, and opening the door partially to get a belter view, saw her stoop, pick up a large armful and start off. She had not proceed*d far however when she stopped ; short and he overheard the following: ‘I cannot steal—the eye of God is upon me, and down went the wood again and she walked off a few steps and slopped again; 1 ‘1 have not a stick of wood in the house, the weather is bitter cold, and my poor children is freezing. The Squire has enough and will never miss it. So saying she filled her arms again with the coveted fuel. Again she started and again hesitated, ‘What! steal? I never before did such a thing and God forbid I should do it now! ; and down went the wood upon tho pile again. But thought of her suffering children brought her once more to the pile, and filled her arms the third time with wood. Once more she started and again turned back, ‘I will not steal—l will trust in God, and if it is His will, we'll perish (together. So saying she threw down the wood upon the pile, and the Squire saw her enter her dwelling and close the door. He retired to bed, but slumber was slow in visitng bis eyelids, He thought of tho (poor widow and her suffering children and perhaps when he slept be dreamed of them. Early the next morning widow W. was surprised to see the Squire’s four ox team, loaded with wood, haul up in front of her dwelling, and the Squire commence pitch* ; ing it off. 'What's this, Squire II.?' said the astonished and half flighted woman; “I idid’nt order that wood, and God knowns I can't pay for it.’ ‘lt. is yours, and all paid for ma'am sung out the Squire tugging away at a big log,—'Y r ou cheated the devil last is e> ’ (night. The poor woman insisted that there must be some mistake shout that there must be some mistake about it, ! ‘I tell you it is yours, for cheating the the devil last night,’ said the Squire, and their comes a man to saw it up, and pack it away in the wood house. The window began to ‘smell a rat,’ and stammering her thainks to the Squire, retreated into the house. She wauled for no more wood that winter. A Pernicious Institution.—Babyba'ils fire a triple conspiracy against the innocence, the health, and the happiness of I children: thus by factions amusements to I rob them of a relish for the simple joys, ( the unboughtdelights which naturally belong to their blooming season, is like boltting out spring from the year. While childhood preserves its natural simplicity, every little change is interesting, every gratification a luxury; a ride or a walk will be a delightful amusement to a child in her natural state, but it will be dull and tasteless to a sophisticated little creature, nursed in these forced, and closely, and vapid exhibitions. Alas! that we should throw away this first grand opportunity of working into a practical habit the mortal of this important truth, that the chief source of human discontent is to be looked for not in our real but in the artificial cravings of desire. To behold lillipution coquettes projecting dresses, studying colors, assorting ribands and feathers, their little hearts beating with hopes about partners and fears about rivals, and to see their fresh cheeks pale asI ter the midnight supper, their aching heads and unbraced nerves disqualifying the little languid beings for the next day’s task, and to hear the grave apology, ‘that it is owing to the wine, the crowd, and the heated room of the last midnight's ball; all this, w« say, would really be ludicrous, if the mischief of the thing did tak off from the merriment of it, as any of the ludicrous disproportions of the diverting travels of Captain Lemuel Gulliver. ■— ■ — 111 — 111 An Agreeable Cure—To cure palpitation of the heart, procure a young woman—alive! and, having ascertained the region of the heart, press the organ closeIv against your own, until the pain ceases. For regimen, use cooling drinks and moonlight—and half-and-half. The Attica (la ) Ledger says all the fruit buds in that region are in good condition, except peach, which seems to he d«*troTed.

NO. 9.