Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 11, Decatur, Adams County, 23 April 1858 — Page 1

Hr hl7 TIrTCAfTIR 17 A I J7 1 11 LJ V Fj l 1 I l J l L lULL »

VOL. 2.

"the eagle. FOBI.ISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY PHILLIPS & SPEXCER, Office, on Kain Street, in the old School House, one Square North of J. & P Crabs’ Store. Term* oi Subscription : For one year, $1 50, in advance; $1 75, within 'V e year, and .j? 00 after the year has explicit 3j*No paper ’.vit! 1. discontinued until all arreratjes are paid, except at the option of the Publishers. Terms of Advertisings One square, (ten lines) three insertions, $1 00 Each subsequent insertion, 25 [ETNo advertisement will be considered less than one square; over one square will be counted and charged as two; over two, as three, etc. JOB PRINT ING : We are prepared to do all kinds of job wotik, in a neat and workmanlike manner, on the most j reasonable terms. Our material for the completion of Job-Work, being new and of the latest styles, and we feel confident that satisfaction can be given. MBBSSUSS* 1 " — MY LAST SEGAR. BY U. H. B. ’Twas off the’l.lue Canaries, — A glorious summer day, I sat upon the quarter deck. And whiled the time away And as the volumed smoke arose Like incense in the air, I breathed a sigh, to think in sooth It was my last segar. I leaned upon the quarter.-ail. And looked down in the sea, E’en then the purple wreaths of smoke Were curling gracefully. Ob! what had I at such a time To do with wasting care, Alas' the trembling tear proclaimed It was my last segar. I watched the fishes as they came, Fast dn wing to the end, I watched them as a friend would watch, Beside a dying friend; And as the flame crept slowly on, It vanishid into air, I threw it from me, while I sighed, It is my last segar. TRIP LIGHTLY OVER TROUBLE. Trip lightly over trouble. Trip Irghtlv over wrong; We only make grief double By dwelling on it long. Why clasp woe’s hand so tightly ’ Why sigh o'er blossoms dead? Why cling to forme unsightly? Why not seek joy instead? Trip lightly over sorrow. Though this day may be dark, The sun may shine to-morrow, And gaily sing the lark; Fair hope has not departed, Though roses may have fled; Then never be down hearted, But look for joy instead. Trip lightly over sadness, Stand not to rail at doom; We've pearls to string of gladness, On this side of the tomb; Whilst starsnre nightly shining. And hraveu is overhead, Encourage not repining. But look for joy instead. Advertising for a Wife. Modest young Corydon, so you are in the market yet, eh? and bound to cheat somebody, at all events. Well, supposing you try me. lam a dark-eyed, curly-headed, rosy-cheeked, large-mouthed, pug-nosed country girl; •'Green as the verdant hues that linger On the huge branches of the hemlock trees.” not far from twenty, but expecting to be older if 1 live long enough, and conse-jinentl-rr fr-r-l disnosed to settle down before long, tor i nave a great nunui ui uecoming an old maid. Now I wonder if I can make you like me any how, Have no property to speak of, but think I can muster a feather bed and the fixings, ahould not have any objections to the flannel night-gown, no indeed; but should expect my third of that to, in a frosty night. However, that don’t matter just now. My third of the bed indeed! well, now that is reasonable and fair, but I suppose you would not keep me on my third •11 the time, but would allow abody to visit occasionally, in the coldest weather, at least. 1 should not mind it if you sometimes (by mistake, of course,) should happen to get. on my third; but never mind that now, we can settle that after the thing is did. What say—shall I go to making up the things against what may happen? Mattie Maitland. A Lesson for Stammerers.—Stick six straight, sleek, slim sticks around six crooked sticks; but don’t mix the straight sleek slim sticks with the six crooked sticks Another.—When Will o’ the Wisp was wisping a wisp round (he whisper’s wrist be whispered this: Will o’ the Wisp, don’t wisp that wisp ro tight round my wrist.

THE MONEY LENDER; OR, Too Many Eggs in One Basket. ~~ BY AN OLD CONTRIBUTOR. ‘Will you discount this note for me?’ The question was asked by a merchant' in the office of a private banker, a man of large fortune, who had retired from business, and now used his capital for discounting instead of in trade. The shrewd money-lender took the note, and after examining the face handed it back, with, a shake of the Lead, and a very firm compression of his mouth. ‘lt is A number one,’ .-•aid the merch- ' ant, with almost an amused smile, at the i severe prudence of the money-lender. ‘I have no question as to that,’ was ; replied. ‘lf 1 were in business, I should nothes- ■ itate to sell the firm to any reasonable ex- | tent.’ ‘Why, then, will you not buy their notes?’ A pleasant light came into the money j ’ lender’s face. He looked shrewd, knowing, and very selfcomplacent. ■I was in market the other day,’ said he, ‘and as I stood buving some fruit at; a woman's stall, a man, in going by, was | ; crowded against a basket standing thereon, which fell to the pavement. It was ■ nearly tilled with eggs, mole than two-j i thirds of which were broken, ‘Ah, my good woman,’ said 1, ‘the old error of too ' many eggs in one basket. It you had; placed them in two or three baskets, instead of one, this general wreck would j never have occurred. In my business, ■ sir,’ continued the money lendei, ‘I nev-1 er commit the error oi this market-wo- j man. I never place too many eggs in one basket. Do you understand me? 'I believe so,’ replied the merchant.— ‘You already have enough of this paper. ‘Just as much as 1 intend buying.— ; When some of it is taken up, I will make J room for more. These are fixed laws, ; sir, that govern me in this business, and ; I never depart from them. j ‘Good morning,’ said the merchant, smiling.

‘I hope you will never get too many I eggs in one basket. ‘No fear of that. If a basket fs upset, and the eggs in it broken, I shall be able to bear the loss.’ The merchant withdrew, and the money lender turned over in his mind the word just spoken, and felt self-compli-mented at his wise caution. ‘No—no’— jhe repeated over and over again. ‘They ' ! cannot tempt me to place too many eggs ! ; in one basket. lam too old and prudent i for that. This figure of speech seemed to please | the money lender and he used it a num- j ; her of times during the day, in declining j 'good business paper that was offered. ‘Have I put too many eggs in one bas-! ket, to-day?’ he asked of himself, as he sat alone during the evening that followed counting up, mentally, his gains, and looking with a feeling of pleasure, at the un- ! usually large aggregate. ‘Let me see? ! That last note of L <kO ’s camel very near to a violation of the rule.— j There are quite enough eggs in that basket. 1 must not venture another one.— . But the temptation of two percent was hardly to be resisted on such paper which all regard as giltedged. It was now over five years since our money-lender withdrew from productive i trade, and narrowed down his intellect and his efforts to the ample business of buying paper,which the holders were unable to get done in bank. During that period he had added largely to his wealth; while his desire for accumulation had grown stronger, and manifested itself in a more eager reaching out after, and drawing in of the gold that perishes.— As a merchant, he had been liberal, generous, kindhearled; and all men spoke of ; turn as sucn. oui tne work or mere

uua nuc wuih Ui lucre money-getting, outside of any productive ; j use in society, had brought the interiors 1 of his mind into new associations; and his heart was steadly hardening. Every day the circle of his thoughts narrow itsell; I : every day his heart stooped lower and ’! lower in adoration before the miser’s god. “ j Others saw the change—spoke of it, and . • regretted it. But, as he grew richer and i richer, and the worshippers of riches bent 1 to him in flattery, he imagined himself to be growing belter. ‘Too many eggs in one basket,’ he re- i peated to bimselt, as lie sat musing in bis luxurious easy chair; neverfor once thinking of the struggling young merchant, without bank credits, more than twothirds of whose profits on a sale of five hundred dollars he had clipped off of a six months’ note as good as any he had .; bought during the past week. ‘Too many eggs in one basket! No no. lam to shrewd for that!’ Drowsily was this murmured, as he laid his head back among the cushions. His next consciousness was in another world. He j dreamed that he had passed through the j dark ports! ofeterni’y, and that to him

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

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, APRIL 23, 1858.

' the judgment from the Book of his Life ; had come —a judgment that was to reveal i i his true state, and fix his everlasting habI itation with those who loved the neigh- • | bor as themselves; or with those who; loved and cared only tor themselves. — ; He did not find himself in the presence of an august, Divine but in large chamber, with translucent walls and ceiling, where we gathered a small assemblage of people, to the centre of which he was led by one who seemed to possess a singular power over him. Here, sea< ■ j and a little elevated above the rest, were : two beings—one with a countenance of ; heavenly beauty, and the other with a face the cruel expression of which caused ; a shudder to go thrilling to his heart. A I hook lay open before them, and he knew it to be the Book of his Life, wherein were written every purpose of his heart, with every act and deed. The moneylender had come to judgment. With a hopeful countenance the nngel began turning the leaves of the book, upon which both her eyes, and that of the I demon, were fixed with an earnest gaze. The period of childhood showed a fair and hopeful record. The tender, merciful, loving impressions made upon the ; heart of her child by a wise and good mother, who looked forward to a meeting with her son in heaven, were everywhere visible. The budding soil gave a fair promise for the fruit and flower. Early manhood’s record was also full of encouragement. There was an eager looking forward into life, and an earnest will towards success. But, united with this, were generous purposes towards others, and great humanitary schemes to bo wrought out for the world’s good, when the money-power to work should come within his grasp. There was light' and hope in the angel’s face, as page as- i ter page of the book was turned; while »the demon sat dark and scowling. The middle period showed less fairly, as to the ends of life—and it was into these that the angel and the demon looked most narrowly. The act was never judged of as it stood alone, it was by the* motive that its quality was determined. A gentle sadness began to shadow the migle s Ueaumui coun-vnauve, niriwirnir ly seen in the demon’s face was the light, of triumph. Many acts of benevolence; many words of good counsel to others; many declarations of noble, generous, unselfish purposes were written down; but they were seen as deeds with selfish ends as their prompters and words that were ' only from the ‘teeth outward.’ More and more, and wealth rolled into the merchant’s coffers, and he gained a higher ; and higher plate in the good opinions of ; men, did he bury his thoughts in selfish ; purposes, and put forth his strength for himself alone, as if he were the chiefest ; thing in God’s creation. His name was ion subscription papers, for chartitable uses, to a large amount; but, when the angel and the deamon went behind the ; record, what did they find? A generous i desire to benefit the suffering, or help the weak? Alas, no! They saw, instead an extorted benevolence, in most instances, ! done for the eyes of men, and succeeded :by a self-complacent gratulation, in the ' loss of so much of his dearly-loved grins, I that ‘charity covers a multitude of sins!’. Sadder and sadder grew the aigel’s face; brighter end brighter, with ar evil triumph, the face of the demon. At last came the closing years of life, when the useful merchant sunk down into the eager money-lender. Previous to this, gleams of better purposes would sometimes throw a hopeful warmth over a page, and lighten the saddening angel's lace. But the record now had in it little of variation, and no passages of light.— Desire moved on in an even current, and ; thought had free course under the pressure of desire There was the one desire i to get money, and the one thought about the surest means. The face of a man—the form of a man—the step of a man—but quickened bis avaricious impulses.' He was a great tumor, absorbing the j rich blood of trade, and growing larger and lager, as healthy, working organs in i the man of society, became weaker from i impaired vitality. Gold had become the god before whom he bowed down in daily adoration. He loved nought else; and thought, from a lingering des<re to appear well in the eyes of bis fellow-men, he still performed some apparent good acts- vet, 1 in every such act there was the elort to ■ j compass a worldly advantage, that mar j red the record in his book of life. Thus for instance he had give liberally to the erection of churches, but, only when they were to be located near his property, the value of which would be improved thereby far beyond the sum of his. subscription. As the last page of the book whs turned, the angel breathed a deep sigh am faded from the money-lender’s vision! ‘Too many eggs in .one basket!’ said the demon, in a voice of triumph, as hi bent his malignant face bo close that his hot breath almost suffocated the terrified | money-lender, who started into wakefu

life as he felt himself clutched by the demon's vice-like hands. Some moments! passed before his wildly-throbbing heart ■ calmed itself down to its wonted even pul- ' nations. « ‘Only a dream—a foolish dream!’ he I said to himself, as he vainly tried to rise' above the depressed state of feeling which the mercifully sent vision had left behind But conscience told him that it was } more than a dream, and that, while in all i worldly prudence he was wisely careful nc' to g<-t too many eggs in a single basket; in matters oi eternal interest, he had one basket only, and in that the price of his soul was resting. He shuddered as i the thought fixed his mind, and overwhelmed al) his convictions. •What shall it profit a man, if he gain j ths whole world and lose his own soul; or wiat a man give in exchange for his soul!' It seemed like the voice of his mother, speaking back to him from the years of childhood. ‘God help me!’he said, with a shudder. ‘I am not in the right path! Did he go back to bis eager money-! jetting and money-lending? We know not. The dream was sent in mercy, and I .e; us hope that it wrought upon him its ; high and holy mission. A Religious Courtship.—A young gentleman happening to sit at church in j a pew adjoining one in which sat a young ! lady, for whom ■he conceived a sudden and violent passion, was desirous of entering into a courtship, on the spot; but tie place not suiting a formal declaration, tie exigency of the case suggested the folkwing plan: He politely banded his fair neighbor a ! Bible open, with a pin stuck in the following text; 2d Epistle of John, verse s—‘And now ; I beseech thee, lady, not as though I wrote a new commandment unto thee, I but that which we had from the beginning, ’hat we love one another.’ fehe returned it, pointing to the 2d 1 chapter of Ruth, verse 10th: ‘Then she fell on her face and bowed ,■ herself to the ground, and said unto him, i ; why have I found grace in thine eyes, that tl ou shouldst take knowledge of me, that 1 am a stranger? i He rei u ,..„j «.i— l„m*, pointing to the 12th verse of the 3d epistal ofJohn: ‘Having many things to write unto you I would not write with paper and ink, I but I trust to come unto you and speak i fact to face.’ from the above interview a marriage tool place the following week. . loor Soil.—An inquisitive Yankee . was standing at a tavern door, in the low-1 er part of Jersey, watching a funeral pass by. At the head of it was a large manine cart moving along very slowly and ; '' mating no offer to turn out for the proces- ; sioi. The Yankee was astonished at this wait of attention on the part of the dri- i ; vei of said cart, and turning to a Phila- ; dephian, who was standing by, he remaked: 1 guess the folks aint very perlite sbjout here; tu hum, where I live, they alvajs turn out for a funeral.’ | Ch, that’s part of the procession,’ re-j inirked the Philadelphian, gravely. ‘Du tell! Yeou don’t say sol Heow!’ 'exclaimed the astonished Yankee. | ‘Why, you see, it is a very poor sandv sol about here, and nothing comes up I j Iley plant, unless they manure it well, so wien they bury a fellow, they throw a . ♦ hole cart-load in the grave, tu make him n«e at the judgment day!' I The Yankee mizzled. John Hendrix, an old hunter, of the . i SluiL west, was, not long since, attacked joithe Mexican side of the Rio Grande, | a|out five miles below Matamoras, by a | hlge snake, which sprung upon and codec around him so suddenly, that he had , vctiine to elude the monster. Knowing' ’jptbe terrible pressure of the reptile’s eoil, that if he would escape he must be I expeditious, Hendrix, with his hunting ; unite, commenced cutting the snake’s boliz in two where it passed over his breast. This, with a few strokes of his knii’e, he stcceeded in dning, and down dropped tie two halves squirming on each side of him. He then shot the lies’! off the up-! per part of the serpent’s body, and all signs of life soon ceased. On measuring • the carcass, it was found to be nearly nineteen feet long, and about four inches indiametorin the largest part. A country exchange says:—,As our Devil was going home with his sweetheart a few evening since, she said to him: ‘John, I fear I shall never get to heaven ‘Why?’ asked the knight of the ink ke g- . . . ‘Because.’ said she, with a melting look, ‘because I love the devil so well.’ A New Haven editor speaks of a recent storm which ‘roared so loud that you couldn’t hear a dog bark.’ We suppose that the bark of the dogs like an occasional | bark oft the coast of Connecticut was lost | in the Found.

A C ase of Imagination. AVe were the witness ot a very ludicrous incident which occurred in this city i a few days since, for relating which, we crave the indulgence of'.he gentleman directly concerned—deeming it too good ; a joke to be lost. While sitting at our desk and laboring assiduously with pen. paste and scissors, to make out n readable pnper for our patrons, wa were suddenly frightened from '■ our propriety by the hasty entrance of a gentleman, exclaiming: ‘For God’s sake, help me to see what is the matter! I’ve some dreadful thing —scorpion or tarantula—in the leg otmy pantaloons! Quick —quick—help roe! We instantly rose from our chair, halffrightened ourselves. Our friend had ; broken in so suddenly and unexpectedly 1 upon us, and was so wonderfully a 6 iuted that we knew not whether he was in his senses or not. We looked at him with a sort of surprise mixed with dread, and hardly knew whether to speak with or confine him as a roadman. The latter we came very near attempting. There he stood quivering and pale, with one ! hand tightly grasped upon part of his ; pantaloons, just in the hollow of the knee. ; ‘What’s the matter?’ asked we at last. ‘The matter! he exclaimed, ‘Oh, help me! I’ve got something here, which just ■ ran up my leg! Some infernal lizard or scorpion, I expect! Oh! I enn’t letitgo; I must hold it. Oh, there,’ he shrieked, ; ‘I felt it move just then! Oh, these pants ; without straps! I’ll never wear another pair open at the bottom as long as I live. | i Ah, I feel it again,’ ‘Feel what? we inquired, standing a'.' ; the same tirrre ala respectable distance! j from the gentleman; for we had j'istbeen I reading our Corpus Christi corr> -pond- ; ent’s letter about snakes, lizards, and tarantvlas, and began to imagine some deadly object or reptile in the leg of our ; friend’s unmentionables, as they are ; sometimes called. ■I don't know what it is, answered the ; gentleman;‘help me to see what it is. I ; was just passing the pile of rubbish there ! jin front of your office, and felt it dart up j ; my leg as quick as lightning,’ be clenched ! ■ his fist more tightly. If it had been the iieok of an anaconda, we believe he would ; have squeezed it to a jelly. By this time two or three of the news ; boys had come in; the clerks and packing i ; boys hearing the outcry, stopped working ! ; and editors anil all hands stood round the sufferer with mingled sympathy and j alarm. ‘Bring a chair, Fritz,’ said wo, ‘and I let the gentleman be seated.’ i ‘O, I can’t sit, said the gentleman, ‘I, cannot bend my knee! 11 I do, it will bite or sting me; no, I can't sit. •Certainly you can sit,’ said we; ‘keep 1 your leg straight out, and we’ll see what j it is you have got. ‘Well, let me give it one more hard j squeeze; I will crush it to death.’ said he, and again be put the force of an iron vice j upon the thing. If it had any life left ! this last effort must have killed it. He then cautiously seated himself, holding out his leg as stiff and as straight ias a poker. A sharp knife was procured; ! j the pants were cut open carefully, making a hole large enough to admit a hand j the gentleman put on a thick glove, and slowly inserted his hand, but be discovered nothing. We were looking on in almost breathless silence, to see the monstrous thing, whatever it might be; each ; ready to scamper out of harm’s wav, should it be alive, when suddenly the gentleman became, if possible, more agi- [ tated than ever. ‘By heavens!' he exclaimed,’ it's inside my drawers. ‘lt’s alive, too—l feel! j quick—give me the knife again.’ Another incision was made—in went the gentleman’s gloved hand once more, and 10, out came his wife’s stocking! How the stocking ever got there, we 1 nre unable to say; but there it certainly was, and such a laugh that followed, we have not heard for many a (lav. Our friend, we know, has told the joke himself, and must, pardon us fordoing so.— Though this is about a stocking, we assure our readers it is no yarn!—Xew York Dutchman. ' ■ ■■■ —* Merit and Position.—The difference between a man of merit, and a man of po- ' sition. is this: the latter is the man of his day, the former is the man after his day. ■ There was a king in England when Shakespeare lived there, and doubtless every child in the realm knew his name . familiarly; but bow many knew the name of the poor play-writer? Bu now, al- , most every child that speaks the English language, knows of Shakespeare and his writings. How msny of them know of James and his writings? Very few. Thus the man of high position died with his position and his day; but the man of merit only began to live when he died. Misers, who never use what they have, may justly be compared to toads that i have numberless ‘stools’ and never sit on them.

Rev. i’eUir Cartwright at the Astor House Some church affairs made it necessary for Mr Cartwright to visit New York city some years ago, and it was arranged folium that he should put up at the Astor House. It was here that his brethren expected to meet him; his social and denominational appointments had reference tc the Astor House as his head-quarters.— Wht u Mr. Cartwright, however, appeared at the Astor, Jhere waa nothing in his backwoods appearance that suggested to its proprietors I is worthy position among the fathers of Methodism; wV.cn, there* tore, he requested to be shown to hi* room tie was very cavalierly turned over to a servant to show him up stairs. Up stairs they went —up, up, up—Mr. Cartwright in wondering nniasement lost, the servant apparently untiring in his amusements of ascending. Finally, the servant opened, the door of .in apartment up in the attic story, and pointed it out to Mr. C. as his room. Father Perter, detained the servant » bile he should take a general su> vey of the premises—repeated the inquiry if : this was the room lie was to occupy—and at length, appearing to be well satisfied, he disposed of his baggage, and very politely requested the servant to be good i enough to show him down stairs again.— j The servant proceeded farther Cartwright down, down, down, til! they reached at length the street landing; but, be- ! fore the servant could make his escape, Peter inquired if he wouldn’t please to show him tip again! So up they went again, heavenward and at last Peter found I his room, and permitted the servant to ! depart in peace. The servant, however, | bad little more than found himself down j stairs, when Uncle Peter rang the bell vigorously. In due time, up cam» the servant, by this time panting with the unusual exertion. ‘My good friend. I am sorry to trouble you, but I should b« glad to see the clerk if you will be kind enough to send him to my room.’ ■ Oh, certainly.’ And so down, down goes the servant !to say to the clerk that a singular old chap up in the upper story wanted him to Ito come to hi* room. And then up, up ;goes Mr. Clerk. ‘Are you the clerk’’ Yes, sir.’ ‘Well, you will place me under great j obligations to you, if yon will show me the way down stairs." And when once more down stairs, after Uncle Peter had taken another careful j survey of the surroundings the clerk very I politely inquired if there was anything ; further be could do for him. ; ‘Yes,’ aays Uncle Peter, 'yes, my friend, I would be greatly obliged toyou j tor a broad-nxel’ 'A broad-axel’ says Mr. Clerk, in astonishment, ‘and what do you propose to j do with a broad-axe?’ ‘I thought I should like to 'blaze’my way to my room!’ \ It is needless to say that Peter Cartwright was the lion of that week at the Aator; and that it was not further required of him to climb up that endless series of stairways —but, when his friends : called again to inquire for, or call upon, him, they found him snugly enscoused iu I one of the most eligible rooms iu the house. The Toothache.—'My dear friend, said H. *1 can cure your tovthaebe in t*n j minutes.’ 'How! how?' inquired I. ‘Do it, in pity!’ Instantly,’ said he. ‘Have you ■any alum?’ ! ‘Ye*.’ ‘Bring it, and some common salt.’ They were produced. My friend pulverized them, mixed them in equal quantities, then wet » small piece of cotton, causing the mixed powder to adhere, and placed it in my hollow tooth. | ‘There,’ said he, ‘if that does not cure j you I will forfeit my head. You may tell this to every one. and publish it eve- | rywhere. The remedy is infallible.’ It was as be predicted On the introduction of the mixed alum and salt, I experienced a sensation of coldness, which j gradually subsided, and with it—alum and salt—l cured the tormentof the toothache.—Mandville Header. ‘I say, Phil, who is the prettv girl I saw you walking with on last Sunday evening?’ ‘Miss Hoggesl’ ‘Hogges! well, she's to be pitied for having such a name. ‘So I think. Joe,’ rejoined Phil; ‘I pitied ; her bo much that I offered her mine, and she’s going to take it soon.’ What is called the keeping up of appearance* is oftentimes a moral or rather immoral utterijg of counterfeit coin. It is astonishing how much human bad money is current in society, bearing the fair impressed of ladies and gentlemen. ‘Boniface!’ exclaimed a hungry traveler to his landlord, after several vain attempts to masticate a piece of a rooster, ‘ilo you suppose that I can eat tbe Old Scratcher himself?’

'NO. 11.