Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 13, Decatur, Adams County, 7 May 1858 — Page 1

1 IT F nF f A TT| D U I ft T F I. II JQj I / I'j v /Il 1 U it I -j /I VJ 1j Jjj •

VOL. 2,

T ll EEAG LE • PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY PHILLIPS & SPENCER, Office, on Main Street, in the old School House, one Square North ot 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. EJ’N'o 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 U”No advertisement will be considered less than one square; over one square will be counted and charged as two; over two, as three, etc. I JOB PRINTING: We are prepared to do all kinds of job-work. in a'neat and workmanlike manner, on the most, reasonable terms. Our material for the completion of Job-Work, being new and of the latest styles, and we feel confident that satisfaction van be ziven. POETRY. The world is not so bi d a world As some would like to make it; Though whether good or whether bad. Depends on how we take it; For if we scold and fret all day, From dewy morn till even. This world will ne'er afford the man A foretaste here of heaven. This world’s in truth as good a world. As e’er was known to any Who have not seen another yet— And there are very many; And if the men and women too, Have plenty of employment, Those surely must he hard to please Who cannot find enjoyment, This world is quite a clever world. In rain or pleasant weather, If people would but learn to live In Lamont' together: Nor seek to burst the kindly bond By love and peace cemented, And learn the best of lessons yet. To always be contented. Then were tb« world a pleasant world, And pleasant folks were in it, The day would pass most pleasantly To those who thus begin it. “I say, boy, stop that ox.’ ‘I haven’t got no stopper, sir.’ •Well, head him then,’ •He’s already headed, sir.’ •Confound your impertinece, turn him.’ •He's right side out already, sir.’ •Speak to him, you rascal, you.’ •Good morning, Mr. Ox.’ Children and fools, savs an old adage always tell truth ‘Mother sent me,’ said a little girl to a neighbor, ‘to come and asti you to take tea with her this evening. Did she say at what time, my dear?’— No, ma’am, she only said she would ask you, and then the thing would be off her mind—that’s all she said.’ ‘That’s my daughter’ Mr. Brown. She is not a miss, is she!’ ‘lf she was, she woulden’t be * miss long—if I could have my way. •What do you mean? would you marry her?’ ‘Of course I would. ‘After her, then, and don’t miss the opportunity.' Exit Brown adjusting his dickey. A Devotion—A Test. We are so constituted, that if we know that an individual holds communion with God, that single fact gives us confidence in him. Something within tells us that the praying person is one who will not injure us, and one whom we can safely trust. It was upon this principle that an infidel wbo was traveling, and who was overtaken by nightfall in a lonely and dangerous place, confessed that he was relieved of his fears of being assassinated when the owner of the cabin where he bad taken shelter, led the family in prayer before retiring to rest. The infidel slept soundly after such a manifestation of Christianity. A cabin roofed and walled by prayer could not be an unsafe place, he thought. We have authority for another pleasing incident illustrating the same point, In exercising hospitality to a clergyman who arrived ata dwelling late in the evening, the beads of the household sur- , rendered to him their own chamber.— Their little daughter, three years of age, was asleep in a crib, and they concluded not to disturb her. Quite early in the morning ah? awoke, and looking towards the bed usually occupied by her parents, saw a stranger there. At first she was startled, and covered her head with the counterpane. Soon, however, she peeped out and said: ‘Man do you pray to God?’ •Yes,’ was the answer, ‘I lova God, and pray to Him everyday.’ This satisfied the little inquirer, who smiled, turned herself over and dropped asleep.

life for Life. Father, is there no help for him? Is the British General so heartless as to condemn one so noble, so brave, so young to die without mercy? These words were used by a pale, tearful girl of great beauty, in the middle portion of the revolution which gave freedom to our own beloved soil. During that period when cruelty was but too prevalent with both parties—when tories, American born, were, if possible, more relentless and cruel than the British troops. The father, a noble looking man of middle age, turned a glance out of the window which opened towards Long Island Sound, the green waters of which could be seen sparkling beyond a grove which fronted his dwelling near Hurl Gate. He turned to this to hide his emotions, for she was his only child, and he \ feared that her young heart would break | when he told her all the sad news that lay so heavily on his breast. ‘Speak, father, tell me, is there no hope? I will oo mvself, and, kneeling to the tvrant, will plead for the life of him I love as only a woman can love! she continued. ‘Alas! my child, mercy is dead in the : British General’s breast—his heart is callous to pity! I have risked much by I pleading for him, but for your sake, wo’d ibe almost willing to die in Nathan’s | place? ‘Cruel, eruel fate! When is he to die? There may be some hope for bis rescue. He was a favorite with Washington, and he is at White Plains. I will go to him. ‘Alas! my child,’ said the father, ‘nerve yourself for the news. It is already too late! ‘Dead, dead!’ shrieked the poor girl. ‘Oh, father, say that is not so! ■Alas! my child, I cannot! He was hung at sunrise, and was even refused a bible to look at ere he was. summoned before his Maker.’

For a moment the poor girl stood silent; not a tear came from her eyes; but a wild light illuminated them; a flash as bright as fire itself gathered over both face and brow—she clenched her fair hands together until the nails seemed to enter the flesh, and with cold, bitter tones she cried: ‘Life for life! I shall be revenged—yes, deeply revenged! ‘Child, dear child, be calm,’ said the fond parent. ‘Father, 1 am calm—verv calm! Cairn |as he almost. And I swear he shall be revenged. If my own hands have to reach the tyrant’s heart that sealed his doom!—I loved, oh! how I loved him—and were not our betrothal vow# plighted? I will act as a widow—as ths widow of a soldier ought to act.’ ‘My dear child, you will bring ruin upon our heads.’ ‘Not upon yours, father; but to me—what is ruin now! Bull will not be rash—l will go to my room, and pray and think of him who now liescold in death.’ She turned and left the room. The father remained, looking from the window out upon the waters, which were dashed with a rising storm, and the trees which already began to writhe beneath the force of the rising gale, like some huge giant wrestling with some unforeseen power. Meanwhile his daughter had gone up to her room in one of the sheerful gables of the old fashioned house; and forgetting to pray in the tumult of her wrung heart, was also gazing out upon the storm, which was not wilder than tumult in her own heart. From her elevated position she could look over the tree-tops, and the lurid clouds, as, like a banttling host marshalled to the charge, amid sulphurous flames and smoke, they rose and spread athwart the sky. She could see the eddying of Hurl Gate, tossing with whirls the foam caps, white as drifting snow, in the air—the breakers tumbling against the black rucks, as if they would hide their dangers from the bold mariner’s view. Suddenly the sound of a cannon was beard, and she looked upon the Sound, she saw that a ship of war had hove to above the narrow gorge of the Gate. A signal for a pilot was flying at the fore- j top, and the hated cross of St. George flew from the spanker gaff. With one wild cry of fierce delight, the fair girl bounded from the room. Life for life—Nathaniel Hale shall be ■ revenged.’ What was her idea? Within anotherroom in the house was the clothing of a brother, who had long since been laid under the sod; and to this room she fled, and soon was arrayed in a suit of such clothing as the young men generally wear when they go on a boating expedition. Without the least hesitation she cut the long glossy tresses of hair from her head, and in a brief period bore the appearance of any young man of eigb-i teen. Having made these arrangements' with a rapidity that only a desperate re- !

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

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTV, INDIANA, MAY 7, 1858.

solve could cause, she instantly left the house, passing down the avenue before her father, he little thinking that the apparently spruce young waterman, who choose to breast such a storm, was the person of his accomplished daughter. Hurrying down to a boat-house, which fronted the avenue, she loosed one of those small, light skiffs, which are still the model of the pilots at Hurl Gate, hoisted a small sail, and in a few moments was out upon the last of the flood i tides as freely and boldly as if she 4jp<’. ! been in a stout ship, instead of so trial • and small a boat. It was no new thing for her to be on the water, having been ' reared so close to it, and hundreds of times Lad she been dashing over those waves, but never in such a gale as that. Yet coolly she steered her tiny craft, avoiding the dangerous whirlpools and rocks, and beading toward the frigate, I which, impatient for a pilot, had already fired another gun. Within less than twenty minutes from , > the lime she started, she’had luffed alongside of the man-of-war, having caught , the lines cast out to her, and fastened the boat, had mounted the vessel’s side, and . stood upon the quarter-deck, ia the presence of her commander. ‘Are you a pilot?’ said the latter impai tiently. . ‘I am, sir,’ was the reply. •Young for such a business. Could > you take us through Hurl Gate. ‘As well as my father, wbo has been a 1 1 pilot here these thirty years,’ was the ply‘Why did he not come cut instead of • I •' sending a boy like you in a blow as fresh 1 as this? ‘Because he is laid up with the rheu- : matitm, sir, and then he knows I can . j pilot you through as well as he can. Sir t Henry Clinton knows me, sir. ‘All! does he —well that is all right. : Car, we bear away yet?’ . | ‘No, sir—not within an hour—till the LI tide runs ebb.’ , j ‘That is bad—this gale keeps rising. ; Is there no anchorage hereabouts? J ‘No, sir, not within twenty miles about: , where your anchor would hold.’ , ‘Then we must go through! I ‘Yes sir, as soon as the tide comes. I . woulden’t risk it till then, for, if the current should catch you on either side how , you’d go on the rocks, sure! ‘That is true, young man. Let me , know the very earliest moment we can go . through. , : ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ . ! And while the English commander turned off to speak to one of bis officears, > the patriot pilot calmly went to the main t ! gangway, and looked over the side, as I if watching for the change of tide. But what was passing in her heart, ! then? There were between three and four hun- . dred souls in that fated vessel. She had lost the only loved thing, besides her father, on the earth, when Nathan Hale j was hung as spy that morning. She was j ,' not thinking how many hearts would be ; j broken by her intended act; she was not' thinking of the mothers and sisters and ■ wives in England, who wo’d soon mourn : for the dead—she was only thinking that ■ soon she would join him in the spirit land, ! and that dearly wo’d bis life be avenged. I For her own life she cared not, thought not —not even did she think of that wor- 1 shipful father, who sadlj’ paced his room, believeing that she was praying for patience to bear her loss. Meantime, there were these three or four hnndred hearts beating with gladness that they had got over a long and sickening voyage, and soon would be anchored in front of the sheen of green, even though the storm hovered over them. At last, a'ter looking towards the home in which she was born, she knew it would be her last look, she turned and went to) the commander and said. ‘The tide is slack, itchanges suddenly, and we had better fill away at once.’ The commander gave the necessary: order to bis lieutenant, and the next moment the main topsail, which had been lain aback was braced around, the head sheets ea»ed away, and the vessel headed for the narrow channel where a thousand crafts have ere this laid their bones As they approached the channel and saw the black rocks, the whirling eddies , the taunting breakers dashing high on every hand, the officers and crew looked ; out upon the danger. But so calm and fearless seemed the young pilot, that rej assurance had a home in every heart, so I clear above the gale his bugle-like voice sounded as*he gave the orders, ‘Port, steady so—full a point, &c. They were more than half through.— The tumbling breakers of the ‘punch bowl’ and ‘hog back’ had been passed; a few hundred fathoms more and they would be safe from danger. Then one quick glance towards heaven, and the disguised girl cried—- ■ Per t— por t —h ard ? The helmsman obeyed. The vessel ; cased off before the wind, and flew on

with accumulated speed for a moment, ' and then was no-more! With a crash that sent her tall spars tumbling over her bows—and sent her crew reeling to the deck, she brougnt up on a huge rock near the perpendicular shore to the right.— Then, amid the rush of waters, the curses of officers and the shouts of frightened men, was heard the shrill cry: ‘lf any of you survive this wreck, go tell your British General that Nathan Hale is avenged, and that by a woman too. Sink—sink! and my curses go with you all! And before a hand could have reached her had they wished it, she leaped into the eddying tide, and ere she sank, the proud frigate, with its shivered spars and j sails, its flag stil flying, and its crew of' stout men, was going down into the cold dark waters, and the murdered Nathan Hale was avenged! And thus this brief sketch is closed. The guns of the sunken frigate rest beneath the tide of Hurl Gate; but the memory of the Patriot Pilot lives in more than one breast yet.

Au Indian Wedding. The Nebraska City news of the 3d inst. contains a long account of the marriage of a Pawnee chief and blood royal squaw of the Otoe tribe. The bridegroom was named Whitewater and the bride Wah-mush-pe-shinga. We extract the following: The chieftain’s daughter was elegantly dressed in a red flanne shirt with a deep blue calico border, a summer killed buffalo robe and a white felt hat. Her jewels were magnificent. From either auricular depended bright ornaments of brass, tin and copper. We must not omit to mention that Miss Wah-mush-pe-shinga also wore a red petticoat, embroidered according to a design of her own, with porcupine quills, representing a desperate dog fight. H«r entire wardrobe and jewelry could not have cost less than six thousand dollars in Fontanelle money, The bridegroom was attired in all the magnificence which his wealth demanded. He wore a standing shirt collar, a medal of President Pierce, a blue straight collared soldier coat with brass buttons, aud an elegant pair of Spanish spurs, while his stalwart lions were admirable clothed in an ancient coffee sack. Altogether the appeaiance of both the bride and the groom was appropriated to their high sphere in life. The most sumptuous feast awaited the gvests at the residence of the bride’s father. It was spread in a camp kettle, and suspended over the fire which burned in the center of that princely lodge. It ; consisted of young dog meat, very tender, ■ blue corn, old dog meat, beaver tails, and i mule stake, fresh fish and sugar, making : altogether one of the most palatable and i nourishing compounds that ever graced a royal camp kettle. The horn spoons of accidental luxury seldom convey to the educated palate viends more tempting and delicious. As for drinks, whiskey made of red pepper, tobacco plugs and rain water, together with molasses sweetened coffee made up the list. Among the distinguished persons present we did not fail to notice the six Mesdames Patanasharo, the wives of that eminent Injun’ who is now at Washington, visiting James Buchanan on official business. Also. Mr. Withcow of the Omaha principality. Mr. Big Soldiei, Esquire Wild Cai, and the Hunrable Short Tailed Elk.

A Printer in Luck.—One of our compositors visited the Theater an evening or two ago, and while there, picked up greatly to supprlse and delight, a pocket book, containing some 6250. The lucky finder regarded this as a particular favor of fortune, especially as be had financially ‘fallen behind a little.’ He concluded i he would not work for a week, but ‘put a ■ sub on,’and have a pleasant time. What money he had in his pocket he spent, and then incurred several new debts, to which he was indifferent, as he supposed he , could discharge them easily with the aid lof 6250. The printer pictured various agreeable events that were to be born of his newly acquired aid, and byway of commencement, thought he would buy a new hat. He entered a hat store where he was acquainted, and selecting a head covering, offered a five dollar note in payment. The bill was pronounced counterfeit. Another and another was handed to the shop-keeper, with a similar result. Indeed every dollar of the 6250 was bogus, the whole lot was not worth , a dime. Our compositor’s vision faded; his dreams of leisure and luxury were over. He threw the pocket book into the fire, and has gone to work again, to make up for the loss of time and the additional expense into which his supposed good fortune had plunged him. He says, being a printor, he might have known the money was’t worth a cent; if it had been good that he never would have found it in the world.— Cin £nq.

WASHINGTON. Whether in court, or camp, or field, this one Inscrutable and god like rhau we view. We find him still the same-intent, alone The greatest good by purest acts to do; Beloved by all he was a chieftain true; His country dearly cherishes his name, And honors him who to her rescue flew, Embalming each memento which can claim One record of his truth—one earnest of his fame. He was the free, the great, the nobly good; Devoted and unchanging friend lonian; Untiring, firm, unconqnered, unsubdued, And unremitting in the course he ran. Conscious of right, the world his acts might scan; He fought for man—no faction drew his sword, But high and holy was the Patriot’s plan; No pany discord gave the rallying word, And his ambition fell no mortal e’er deplored. The master product of the mighty mind. No fortune could elate, reverse, cast down; Millions of wires are his: he lays enshrined In every patriot heart, and men still own A reverence for him, to none else shown. He foiled ambition in the deadly race— Resigned the sword, would not accept the crown; Towered like an eagle in his pride of place, 1 hi- theme ofeyery tongue—the glory of his race. A uecdote of Washington . An incident in the Virginian, represen'ing Washington as ready to accept a challenge, has led ‘Leslie’s Illustrated Paper’ to reprint the following very pertinent anecdote from Weems’ Gossiping life of Washington: •In 1754, Washington was stationed at Alexandria with his regiment, of which he was Colonel. There happened to be at this time an election in the town for members of the Assembly, and the contest ran high between Colonel Geo. Fairfax and Mr. Elzey. Washington was a firm friend of Mr. Fairfax, and Mr. Payne headed the friends of Mr. Elzey. A dispute taking place in the court house yard, Washington, at this time not 22 years of age, contrary to his usual manner, became excited, and what was still more uncommon, said something that offended Mr. Payne, whereupon the little gentleman, ‘though but a cub in size,’ raised his sturdy hickory, and by a single blowbrought Washington to the ground. ‘Several of Washington’s officers being present, they whipped out their irons in an instant, and it wassuppsed that there would be murder offhand. To make bad worse, the members of the regiment hearing how their commander bad been treated, bolted out of the barracks, every man with his weapon, threatening vengence on those who dared to knock down their beloved Colonel. Happily for Mr. Payne and his party, Washington recovered in time to go out and meet his enraged soldiers, and after thanking them for their expressions of attachment, assured them that he was not hurt in the least, and begged them, as they loved him and their duty, to return to their barracks.

•As toWashington himself he went to his room, and finding, on mature reflection, that he had been the aggressor, he determined to make Mr. Payne honorable reparation by asking his pardon on the morrow. No sooner had he made this noble resolution, than he recovered his natural calmness of manner, dressed himself and went to a ball, behaving himself as if nothing had happened. The next day he went to a tavern and wrote a polite note to Mr. Payne, requesting to see him. Mr. Payne presumed the import of it was a challenge fur a duel and repaired to the place appointed for the meeting, expecting to see a pair of pistols introduced. But conceive his surprise on entering the chamber where Washington was, when he discovered a decanter of wine and glasses upon the tableland upon his entering Washington arose and in a very frindly manner met him, and presented his hand, saying: ‘‘Mr. Payne, to err sometimes is nature to rectify error is always glory. I find I was wrong in the affair yesterday; you have had, I think, some satisfaction, and if you think that is sufficient, here’s my hand—let us be friends.’ “It is only necessary to say, that from this time Mr. Payne became one of Washington's most enthusiastic admirers and friends. If this conduct had not been deemed in Washington to arise from mag- 1 nanimity and not from fear, then he could r.ot have become the immortal hero he is regarded in history.” At an examination of the college of surgeons a candidate was asked bv Abernethy— ‘What would you do if a man was blown up with powder?’ ‘Wait till he came down,’ he coolv replied. ‘True,’ replied Abernethv; ‘and suppose I kick you for such an impertinent reply, what muscles would I put in motion. ‘Th# fiexors and extensors of my arm for I would knock you down immediatelv. He recived a diploma

A Heroic Woinuu. A letter from Wattertown, N. Y. gives a wonderful account of the bravery and success of a jailor’s wife in saving the life of her husband, and preventing the escape of four prisoners from the jail in that place. Early on Sunday morning, four prisoners, named Wilson, Eddy, Missie and I Ward, by feigning the sickness of one of their number, got the jailer at this place Mr. Baker, in their power, gagged and i bound him, and locked him in x. cell.-— ( This done, they robbed him of his money and keys of the prison, and were calmly : taking their leave, when they were ! 'brought all up standing” by beholding i the jailor’s wife pointing at them through a railing a loaded revolver, and calmly informing that she should put a bullet through the first man who attempted to ' come forward. A conversation, something like this, followed: Prisoner—The devil you will! You don’t know how to shoot it. Mrs. Baker-—Try it and see, if you like I have been practicing with this pistol for the past few days, and I promise you I will kill the first man who comes forward. Prisoner—Well, if that’s your game, we’ll be quits with you. Now, take your choice, young woman—either let us pass out in peace, or submit to have your husband’s brains knocked out against the wallsof the jail. Which do you like best? Perhaps that won’t be gav, nor nothing, just to see him laying out there cold and stiff, with bis brains laying around. Hal ha!—d—d pretty picture, ain't it? D—d pretty wife you are, ain't ye to get your iiusband killed? Come, now what d'ye say? Let us out and it’ll be all right—won’t ye? [And the speaker moved forward a step. Mrs. Baker— The first man who steps over that sill dies!' And there that brave woman held those men at bay for something like half an hour, until help came and they were driven into their cells.

Playing Robison Crusoe The Detroit Free Press relates a Robison Crusoe story of three young lads of that city, wbo ran away from their anxious mammas in that city took to the lake ; in an old skiff, and were hunted after by : the police for some time. It says: It being known that they were sometimes in the habit of going to Be'le Isle i two miles above the city, to fish, search was instituted in that d'reclion. An old ! Frenchman on the island reported that ; a colony of some mysterious description was settled on the upper end of the island | but he was unable to say who its members : were composed of. Further investigations, however, revealed the fact that the nt w colony whose anxious mammas were :in search of them. They were very snugly domiciled in an old fishing hut, iof small dimensions, the cracks of which | they had stopped with grass and weeds. An old fireplace in one corner, with a j chimney, was Well supplied with driftwood from ths beach, and a skillet and ■ tin kettle constituted their cooking uten- ; siis. Three blankets and a bench completed the outfit. On the walls werts : hung ths fishing tackle When first surprised the runaways were engaged in th# i agreable occupat ion of demolishing a large pike, which had been cooked in the skillet with no seasoning but salt. They said ■ that they had had plenty of fun, and plenty of fish to eet and were intending to remain all summer if they had not been discovered. The oldest only about twelve i years of age, said the idea had been put i into his head, by reading Robison Cruso# and that he had persuaded them off. Their felicity was complete with exception that they wanted a Man Friday, to secure which they had contemplated erosing over to Canada and kid-napping a small Kanuck boy. This was abandoned as too dangerous, considering the small available force and it was thus planned that one of them should return to the city and coax his sweetheart a little girl, to .come and live with them and cook the fish. This plan would have been carried out had they not been found. They were returned to their mammas with bad colds from sleeping on the floor. Rack between a Horse and a Locomotive. —A novel race took place at St. Thomas on Tuesday last, between a bluod!ed horse and a Locomotive. The horse is decided to be a very fast nag, and so is the locomotive, and both were well trainied to the track The arrangements between the betting parties were, that the horse, should be at his starling place when the locomotive came up even, aud j the word “go,” should be given, when away they went under whip and steam. The judges declared the horse the winner, by one half length. The bet was 650 a side and the distance eighty rods. This decides the question that the horse is faster than steam.— Hamilton ( Canada)

NO. 13.