Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 32, Decatur, Adams County, 17 September 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. H3*No paper will be discontinued until all arrerasres are paid, except at the option of the Publishers. Terms of Advertising: One square, (ten lines) three insertions, $1 00 Each inserti on, 25 LTNo advertisfltient 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. Our material for the completion of Job-Work, being new and of the latest : styles, and we feel confident that satisfaction can be given. THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. for the Saturday evening post. Now let the earth rejoice, i A glorioos deed is done; The morning’s herald-voice Outstrips the lagging sun! And swifter than his beam, Shall distant Ind to Ind, Waked by the lightning glean, Their love-fraught greeting send. Thy hoary realm, oh, Sea! In vain the lands disjoined,— The fleet bark speeds o’er thee, Before the march of mind. Though shoreless seemed thy round, A path the magnet gave, By which a world was found Beyond thy Western wave. And now Columbia bends, To catch—thrice conquered power! The message Europe sends In this expectant hour. This day the bond of love, That makes the nations one. Is clashed beneath the wave.— The leigu of peace begun j Let Freedom then rejoice, For, with a tongue of flame, The avengers of the race Shall hiss the oppressor’s name. Let Commerce wide expand Her canvass to the breeze— Her heralds beckoning stand, Amid far distant seas. O’er her own labors bent, Let Science smile to see, — Her starry eye intent On triumphs yet to be, Religion, bid rejoice Her mission to fullfil, And with consoling voice The desert places fill. Behold the song of Hope, In full fruition end! Her bard's prophetic lay, To its fullfilment tend! For bright Improvement comes Upon the Car of Time, Ere long the spacious world To rule from clime to clime Then houortotbe age. And to the nations two, Whose joint illumined page The latest times shall view! But brighter still shall glow, Upon the roll of fame, The deeds of men who show Title to deathless name. But chief to God on high The glory shall be given, — His will be done on earth, As it is done in Heaven. Philadelphia, Aug. 1858. J. L. B. J. R. A., a writer in the Evening Post, calls ‘the equator an imaginary line which divides the world, and the cable a real line which unites it. An Ohio editor recently attempted to describe the powerful effects of warm weather, and here is one instance: - A small negro boy injudiciously leaned up against the sunny side of the house yesterday, and fell asleep. In a few minutes be began to soften, and in three-quar-ters of an hour he ran all over the yard. Hie mother dip him up in a wash tub. Capt. Elisha T. Parsons, of Ludlow, went out lately and found that of his hens was brooding a skunk and one chicken; the skunk having eating eleven of the chickens, and liking the warm nest in which he found them, curled down under the hen and went to sleep.

DON’T BE IN A HURRY; OR, James Price’s Trial.’ fj RY AGUBTA MOORE. > I James Price came to New York to, 1 seek his fo>-lune. He went t > board in a ' | private family, where were two daugters ' jof a widow—which things are sometimes ■ 1 almost as dangerous as widows themselj ■ ves are. James had never seen over half ' | a dozen girls in his hie—that is seen them ito speak to, and that half a dozen were iI the round, stout, large.limbed, and rough ; i I skinned kind—not particularly attractive 1 , to youthful lovers of beauty. But the j widow’s daughters were, James thought j i beauties. He was so awe-struck upon first meeting them, at the tea-table, that! be coul.l hardly venture to eat. Although he had been ravenously hungry before lie entered the tea-room, his appetite i seemed all at, once to forsake him, and what food he did carry to bis mouth tried

its best to choke him by sticking in bis i throat. It was a season of painful pleaI sure. But weeks and months passed, I and James grew accustomed to his “de- ■■ lightsome” situation; and as he firmly be- ; lieved that there were not two such beautiful creatures in any other house in New York, or in the world, as dwelt in the abode which sheltered him, he gave way to the conviction that now was his time to fall in love—and so he did it with the eldest. Venus—Miss Amanda Hope, a pleasantly suggestive name. Those were happy days that James passed under the widow’s roof. He felt wonderfully contented He had seasons of wondering why he wasn't in a greater hurry to get married; and generally, immediately succeeding that wonder, came another—“l wonder if I really do like ; Amanda better than her sister.’ James had become quite a party-goer. I His lady love and her sister were possessed of the party-loving spirit, and James had no especial objection. Indeed, he soon began to be as eager to attend such scenes as the sisters could possibly desire. There was a certain fair young maiden that was often in the same company that i James and the sisters frequented; and our 1 (fitWii. ny.verJGwK.nd 1 ■ experiencing, under his breast pocket, a I sensation altogether novel from its I strength, and quite alarming, considering i James’ cirsumstances. i He concluded, after a while, that he had ; better give up going to these social gatherings. But this idea was stoutly comi batted by the sisters; and as efforts of re- ' sistence are always weak when there is an j enemy inside the fort, the young man i made Dut a short stand against his bei siegers. Again he met the low-browed, ; blue-eyed, sweet-faced maiden, and again : be felt the ominous pull under his vest,— Draw, draw, drag, it went—a mighty hand pulling at his heart. It made him I nearly sick He would have given the ; whole of New Y r ork (as he didn t own it J ' had he been a tree man. One eve, while dancing, he became the i interesting lady’s partner. W hen he I touched l.er hand he found that it was very cold. He need not have done so— I there was not the least necessity for the , thing; but lie did it—clasped that cold, i little hand in his, so warm, so strong. — I James had grown shockingly bold being - so much among the girls. He felt the maiden’s hand tremble exi ceedingly. He looked at her just at the i moment that she was trying to look un- | observed at him. The pink color, so soft i so beautiful, on her round cheeks, spread ' all over her face as her eyelids instantly ' drooped. They must part now and take jother partners. They unclasped each

! other’s love. James was just as sure that I ■ that the lovely Sarah’s heart waited for j ; him as that bis longed to have her as his ■, j own. He resolved to go to Amanda, con- j fess his condition, call himself all manner j ; of hard names, ask her to shoot him, but I : beg of her, after all was over, to give him | ' back his freedom. Accordingly he did ' I so. But what was his astonishment and ; ■ dismay to hear the fair Amanda declare j i that she would never give him up, no never. The worst of it all was that this wasn’t said in any loving way, or wrung iby desperation from an anguished heart : —no, it was spoken with a cold and hard ■ ; resolution, and Amanda looked as if she j 1 meant to have him if it was only in inch j I pieces, or if there was nothing to get but • his scalp and his skin. 'j Poor James gave up the case at once, j ’ I He asked her to name the happy (?) day, and Amanda named it. It was an | early one; and they married. ’ | “How strangely those Prices act, con-1 sidering that they are so newly married,’' was the remark of the people when they ’ | saw that James and his bride scarcely j ’. walked arm in arm, and often came sep-1 j! arately to church. i II James was kind as he could be to his i r 1 wife. He determined that be would not] allow himself to love anybody better than

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

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTV, INDIANA, SEPT. 17, 1858.

he did her; and there is reason to suppos>i that he would have been successful in carrying out his good resolutions had Amanda aided him by an affectionate man ner; but this she never did. She bad; ■ been mortally offended at his having Ipv-! ied another—her aim was to punish Jim I all that she could. She could hardly be said ever to have truly loved James! he : had pleased her vanity. Much heart she 1 probably had not for anvhody. When she had insisted upon his fulfilling hisen gagement with her, her sole object was !<• i hinder him trqm being happy either with I out or with her. The poorfellow’s 1 ,of honor was such as forebade him to I j break with her against her will, and thus I he was victimized. ; For a long time he bore his troubles! silently; but there is a pass beyond which neither man no? woman can bear trouble silently, and live; and when his wife forsook her home, and forbade him to even call and see his new-born babe, it was ; more than he knew how to endure. He

rushed to the sympathizing and consoling I i presence of his friends and kindred, anil i spread before them the story of h-i wrongs. Every one who knew Jamia, knew that it was quite impossible tint , his had been the fault. He never in ! life had been unkind to any human nor even to a beast—was' it likely thlt such a man would begin with cruelty his own wife? Never. And the cry wis I unanimous—‘Away with her if she wtl! I not repent and reform!’ I All usual and unusual measures were I taken to bring about a proper state -if j feeling between the twain—never made i one, but without success. James would i not have any divorce. He said he dd I not think it would be right. He believed in no human power to part married coiples. There was but one rule for divorce ' —that given by the Saviour; and he bad no such cause. His friends talked and I reasoned in vain. James was always fir n in whatever he thought to be duty. He I felt that his feet were on a rock here, and I he was not to be moved—no, not although | there was a stone upon his heart. Thera j was one thought that tempted him sorej ly, but even that could not overcome him. And thus our James lived on, a mar- | ried widower, for seven wearv vears. He ; asked to see. Sweet-tempered and very lovely was the little Leonard; and Amanda’s mother would not her daughter to act out her wicked desire to prevent the child’s fath-; er from enjoying the delight of his com-i pany. Almost every fine day James and : his bov were out together, riding or walk- ' incr. Lenny seemed to love his father, [even better than children usually do. — I I This was great consolation to his deserted I parent, | One day’ a lady, in her stroll down a j shady street, came suddenly upon a loveJly boy of some five or six years. He was I running as fast, and laughing as loudly, !as he could. His flaxen curls were flying in the soft summer wind, and his bright eyes seemed wild with glee. The . child was richly clad, but appeared to be; entirely unprotected. There was not a person to be seen for several blocks, either up or down the street. “Stop! stop! my little fellow,’ cried I ihe ladv, intercepting the little racer.— 1 ’Where are you going so fast? and why I are you alone in the street?’ ‘Oh, let me go, or pa will catch me!— returned the child. ‘He is just round the corner, chasing me. Im in such a hurry. Please, pretty lady, let me go!’ The boy’s rosy cheeks had become crimson from his exertions. •Well—tell me your name, my dear, and I’ll let you go.’ I ‘My name is Lenny Price Oh! there ; is pa—now he’ll catch me,’ shrieked the

boy, darting from the lady’s suddenly re-j laxed hold. i ‘Price!’ The name had made her t j start, and she looked, with rapidly changi ing color, into the very eyes of the child’s . ! father, only to see that it was he. Price bowed low, while a flush crossed ' his cheek. Neither spoke, but both pas--1 sed from that spot with greatly disturbed | feelings. Did they wish that they had not met? Each reader may answer that question to his own liking. But the trial was not renewed. 7 hose two persons never met again when to meet • was —to say the least —as much pain as ! pleasure. It was New Year’s morning, 1850, > ’ when, as James sat at his breakfast,, I word came to him that Amanda had burst a blood vessel, and was not expect-1 led to survive. Greatly shocked, James I hastened to the house of his wife’s moth- ' erand was lead at once to the chamber of death. There lay the wife, who had not spoken a word to him for seven long ' years, dying. I" ‘Oh! Amanda,’ muttered the gentle i patient hearted man, ‘is it thus we meet?’ < j ‘Forgive! forgive!’ was all that Aman-; da could utter. I ‘All is freely forgiven —was forgiven long ago,’ returned James, bending over

his wife, who had held out her hand to ; him. | He staid beside her till she died; and ’ when he saw her lying while and still, he I wept for her—real tears of heart-felt sor- ! row for the dreariness and sadness which I she had so obstinately hugged to her; ; heart, and for her untimely end. But there was nothing pleasant for him to miss; and it was not long before he realized that a pleasant thing had been I gained, namely, his freedom—and, more! than that the sole possession of his darl/mg child. i (O course, that child would need a i cither’s love aad care; and of course' there was, in James’case, no difficulty in 1 deciding who should, if shewould.be-: come that mother. In his imagination i and affection there was but one woman in the world, and to her he went straight-1 way; and as she was willing—abundantly' so—he took her, in due time, to his heart I and to his heme. And now at last James i has a wife and Lenny a true mother.

A Settler. They have, out in Atlanta, a hotel-kee-per, named Thomson, who is considered lather smart at a joke, but he sometimes : meets his match, as the following proves: I ‘A traveller called very late for breakI fast, the meal was hurriedly prepared.— Thomson feeling that the ‘feed’ was not I quite up to the mark, made all sorts of j apologies all around the eater, who worked on in silence, never raising his head beyond the affirmative influence of his fork, or by any act acknowledging even the presence of mine host. This sulky demeanor rather vexed the landlord, who changing the range of his battery, stuck his thumbs in his vest arm holes, expanded bis chest by robbing the room of half, its air, and said: ‘Now, Mister, confound me if 1 bain’t made all the apology necessary, and more ! too, considering the breakfast and' who ; gets it; and now I tel! you, I have seen dirtier, worse cooked, worse tasted, worse : looking, and a deal of a sight smaller; breakfast than this is, several times.’ The weary, hungry one meekly laid I down his tools, swallowed the bite in ; transitu, placed the palms of his hands ; tn Cfy fla K V qn.l mnrlunflt' »1.. i ‘l3 what you »ay, true: ‘Yes, sir,’ came with a vindictive promptness. ‘Well, then. I’ll be blamed, boss, if ; vou bain’t out-traveled me.’ • 1,1 •• 1,1 Take two of Them. [ The Bangor Courier tells this story of, [a bashful lover and a fast juvenile: A bashful youth, who lives not a thou- : sand miles from this city, was paying [ ; marked attention to a beautiful young la-, 1 dy, who rejoices in the possession of an I interesting niece, about six years old. — [ The other evening he was enjoying a so- [ cial chat with the young lady, vainly trying to nerve himself the terrible question, j when the little niece entered the room. — A new thought struck him—taking her lon his knee, he asked in a quivering I voice: j ‘Fanny, dear, are you willing I should | have your aunt for my own? I will give you five hundreds dollars for her.’ I' ‘Oh, yes?’ said the little thing clapping her hands in glee. ‘But hadn’t you beti ter give me a thousand dollars and take : two of them?’ | It is needless to add that the little fairys answer overcame all restraint, and the happy’ day is fixed. Little Fanny is now agieat favorite with both of them. i Reasonable Curiosity in a Dying Man —lt was a bright thought that of ! Smithson, when he was dying of an unknown complaint. Smithson had had

: five doctors, and they had been unable to; discover what his disease was. At length . they told the patient be must die. Call-> ing them all around him he said: ; ‘My friends, after I die, make a post-i ; mortem examination, and find out what I ails me; for really 1 have heard such long and learned discussions on the subject, that I am dying to know what the disease is mvself.’ - ii i— Anecdote. The Abbe Domenech, who has just published an account of his missionary experiences in Texas and Mexico, narrates that upon one occasion he ■ taken up his quarters for a night in the I outer court of a rancho. Not having: ! enough mattresses for all, they were each I obliged to accomodate a bed-fellow: — I ‘Mine was a young Jew of the name of Moses, who, falling asleep, said to me, while he laughed, ‘Have you suspected i that you was going to sleep with a Jew?’ , No. And you, have you dreamt that ] your bed-fellow is a Calnolic priest; j "Not the remotest idea of it; you now inform me for the first time.’ Ihink you, then, that our slumbers will be the less tranquil!’ ‘Certainly not.’ Well, liien, ’good-night.’ ‘Good-night.’ Without enconomy, none can be rich; with economy, few need be poor

> The Way the Opposition to the Democratic Party Reformed the State Oflicrs in Indiana In 1854, a fusion party was formed in this State, composed oi Know Nothings j Abolitionists and disaffected Democrats, ,in opposition to the Democratic partv.— ! I They called it the ‘People’s Party.’ The ; I professed object of the fusion party was to bring about reform in various offices of of the country. They said the old pclit- [ j ical parties of the country had become 1 corrupt and needed reforming. They inI tended to discard the old corrupt politi’cians of all parties and elect none but (honest men for office without regard to i political associations. This all sounded | very well. By these professions the organization of Know Nothing lodges and i ! the excitement that was raised in regard I j to the repeal of Missouri Compromise and ! | the passage of the Kansas and Nebraska' j bill, the party succeeded in electing SecIretary, Auditor and Treasurer of State and a majority of the State Legislature. , Well, how did they carry out their pio- i sessions of reform after they got into pow-

[er? The history of the way they administered the offices will tell the story. 11. : Talbot was the ‘honest man’ they’ elected State Auditor. He permitted the Gramercy Bank, at Lafayette, and the Shawnee Bank, at Covington, to withdraw the securities placed in his office for the security of the note-holders of those Banks, and which it was his duty sacredly to! keep, for the purposes for which the law required them to be deposited. By this ‘ transaction, which would result either of dishonesty or incompetency, the people who held the notes of these Banks lost [ many thousand dollars. In addition to ; this. Talbot went out of office with $ 10,-! 000, belonging to the State, in his hands, that he did not pay over and for whieh a j judgement against him and his securities : was recntly obtained. Dr. Noffsinger, the honest Treasurer elected by the fusion party, loaned about $50,000 of the peoples money to specula-; tors and protested drafts for the amount; now lie in the Treasurer’s office. A. Dr. Collins was elected Secretary I of State by the Reform party. As the I duties of that office are merely of that of! a.tjerk.. none of the St.afe.s mnnpv lice with clean hands and that he didn’t j steal anything. But not so. On the eve I of leaving his office he deeded to himself; a large quantity of the Swamp Lands of the State» for which he paid not a dollar. He has since been compelled by a legal , action, to disgorge and the Deeds have been cancelled, This was the way the fusion party prac- ■ deed reform. What was the fusion party ; in this Slate in 1851 is now the Republi-. can party, except such as were too hou- [ est to continue with such a party, and we I are happy to say there were many such who bad been inveigled into its ranks through the agenev of Know Kothingism and anti-Nebraskaism. The Republican party is now asking ; the people to turn out of the State offices Democrats, who have faithfully and hon- ; estly discharged their duties, and put, their candidates in. They should remember the way they conducted the offices when they had them before giving that party their support. — Richmond. Jeffersonian. Now that the Black Pepublican party has run its course, or at least is in a minority in almost every’ State, where it : had obtained a foothold, a cotemporary I says, let us ask, whathas it accomplished? i Has it been the means of setting at liberty a single slave? Has it been of any advantage to the

cause of freedom? Has it organized a free State? Has it abolished slavey in a single State , , or Territory. I Has it made any efforts to repeal the Fugitive slave law? * | 1 Has it made any effort to abolish sla- , - very in the District of Columbia? Has it made any effort to restore the Missouri Compromise? Has it done anything for which it should receive the thanks of a single slave? Hard up for Compant.—The SuperinI tendent of a western Railroad discharged a conductor belonging to that road. The conductor was acked why he was ’ discharged. j ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I was discharged for I giving a free pass.’ What made you such a fool to give a free pass?’ ‘Well, you see,’ replied the conductor, ‘I got tired riding alone, and gave a friend of mine a free pass to get him to go along for company. If a girl thinks more of her heels than her head, depend upon it she will never amount to much. Brains which settle in the shoes never get above them. Young gentlemen will please put this down.

The Negro Company. , A numbar of the officers of Donipbans regiment had selected their favorite servants, they accompanied their masters to 1 the ti nted field. On the march from El [ Paso to Chihuahua the darkies, fired with j military ardor, determined to form a com- ; puny of their own. Joe, a. servant of Lieut. D. ,ot Major Clarks artillery. ; was elected captain, and about one half 1 of the remaining volunteers were appointied to fill some office and were thus enI titled to a title. Joe made bis appearance on parade in a cocked hat, feathers, epaul- ; etls; Ac., all i igbt. lie was impatient for ! the toe. When it was reported that, the enemy was awaiting us at Sacramento, Joe was exultant. He would show the , white folks what he and his men would i do. ‘He would be vfhar de fight was and ’if Massa D expee’ed Joe to bold his hoss, Massa was mistaken, dare den. The battle of Sacramento was fought, and the enemy routed completely, but Joe and his men had been wlirdly invisible. I The day after the battle, Lieut. L said to capt. Jce—

! ‘Wliere’s your company. Joe? I didn’t : see any thing of you yesterday, and I hear you hid behind wagons. ‘Massa Lieutenant,’ replied the cresti fallen Capt. Joe, *’s sorry to say my men [did take to wagons! I begged ’em and de- ; plored ’em to come out like men, but they j wouldn’t! No, sab! day stuck to de wagins, and I couldn’nt get ’em out.’ ; ‘Weil,’ said Liefft. L ,‘why didn't you leave them?—you might have been i in the fight, anyhow.’ i ‘Why Massa, to tell you de trut, I did come out in de line at fust and I stood for awhile, but when the balls begin to come so thicker and faster, and more of ’em I tout the best ting dis nigsrer could do was to get behind the wagins himself.’ Joe’s company was disbanded the next day• A Swimming Match--Young Lady Rescneu by a •Pacping Tom. That even so mean a business as that of ‘Peeping Tom’ may turn out happily, the following from the Pittsburg Dispatch proves; At Murdocksville, some young ladies usual splashing in the water, and ‘following their ears,’ were amazed and —shall we sav it?—delighted, on turning a sharp bend in the rever. to behold the nimphs floating in the rippling current, fairer than the naiads and more enchanting than syrens Concealing themselves, one ol the rascals wagered thirty dollars on the swimming powers of a flaxen-haired divinity against a small, darkened beauty —the two being the leaders of the party and the most expert swimmers. The waI ger was accepted. The two had Struck out for a long swim, a strong swim, and a swim altogether, when ‘fair hared she’ I shrieked, ‘a turtle! a turtle!’ and, terribly frightened, sank under the surface. i It was a struggle, between galantry and 'duty with the young men; but the ona who had accepted the challenge, leapt ’ from his hiding place into the stream, and striking out boldly, succeeded in seizing . the insensible and drowning girl and drag- | ged her to the shore. OI course, the re- > tuainder of the party had fled, but soon : returned, took charge of the nearly inanI imate form, and restored her to consciousi ness. In consideration of the service perI formed the young fellows grunted absolution. The heroic rescuer ot the young j lady, however, claimed the thirty dollars or. the score that his nymph had fairly won the match. If it K Bt.‘t dusted up. they young men propose that the ladies

, shall try it again. Webster had an anecdote of old Father ' Searl, the minister of his boyhood, which I never has been in print, and which is too : good to be lost. It was customery then j to wear buskin breeches in cool weather. ! One Sunday morning in the autumn, lather Searl brought down his from the garret; but the wasps had taken possession in the summer, and were having a nice time in them. By 7 dint of effort he got out the intruders, and dressed for I meeting. But while reading the ecrip- ; tnres to the congregation, he felt a dig'er from one of the enraged small waistled fellows, jumped around the pulpit I slapped his thighs. But the more he : slaped and danced the more they stung, i The people thought him crazy, and w«*ro in commotion as to what to do; but he explained the matter by saying: ‘Brethern 1 don’t be alarmed; the M ords of the Lord , are in my mouth, and the Devil is in my breeches!’ Webster always told it with i great glee to the ministers. A great philosopher says there are three i things very difficult —to keep a secret, ’ to forget an injury, and to make good use of leisure. • Why is the residence of the Mayor of any city like what never was nor ever will be? Because it is *a mare’s nest.’

NO. 32,