Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 44, Decatur, Adams County, 10 December 1858 — Page 1

THE DECATUR E AG I. E

VOL. 2.

I THE EAGLE. [ fSJLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY PHILLIPS & SPENDER, I Offle’. on Maia 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 Ae year, and $2 Ou after the year has expired. IFNo paper will be discontinued until all srrerajes are paid, except at the option of the Publishers. Terms of Advertising: One square, Ten lines) three, insertions, $1 00 Each subsequent insertion, 25 Jj*No advertisement will be considered leas 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, n a neat and workmanlike manner, on the most reasonable terms. Our material for the completion of Job Work, being new and of the latest etyles, and we feel confident that satisfaction ean be given. LONG AGO. BY ANDREW DOWNING. Long ago a syren a hispered la joy ear sweet words of hope— Whispered low of golden glories, Which to manh.md’s eye would ope, | Telling me of love and pleasure — Not of pain, and care, and woo — Brightly picturing the future, In that sunny —Long Ago. Soft that syren breathed a magic Word that set my soul aflame— Word that made me toil unwearso— Mighty, talismanic of fame! High ambition lured meonward, And I’ve reached the god I’d know . But, alas! I’ve lost treasures Mine in halcyon—Long Ago' Youth Rud beautv they have perished, Gone areal! life’s early charms, Sweetest flowers once fondly cherished. Sleep in death’s cold, clasping arms; Knowing neither peace nor pleasure, Wandering o'er the earth*! go,. Thinking of the mocking syren That deceived me—Long Ago! Though I've fame, and wealth, and honors, These I gladly would resign. If those golden, sun-bright glories Os lost you th again were mine; Oft my soul of life grows weary, Memory with lamp aglow, Like a mourner, oft is kneeling At the tomb of—Long Ago!

Train nr a Monkey.—The Hartford Eevening Press says ad«y or two *go a passenger on one of the trains to New York had a pet monkey, with which he sniused the passengers Near Porte. Chester the train suddenly stopped. Nobody could tell the cause, until it was de•ccvered that Master Jocko had mounted to the top of the car and pulled the cord which communicates with the- locomotive «nd thus given the engineer the signal to step. Plating ‘Tag* with a Bear—The Detroit Advertiser tells the following bear story: “Last Saturday morning, while a laborer residing at Fort Gratiot, was proceeding in a boat to Port Huron, he came up with a huge bear, swimtng across — He struck his bearship a blow over the hettd with his oar, when the enraged animal made lor him, and climbing into the boat, compelled the man to take to the water. The bear then followed him, and the man contrived to get into the boat again. A neighbor seeing his predicament came to his relief with an axe, and broke up this pleasant little game of ‘tag,’ between the man and bear, by breaking in the latter's bead. He was killed and brought, ashore, he is said to be of the largest size, and will doubtless weigh tome wherein the neighborhood of 800 pounds.’ ‘Have you,’ said a young lady, entering a music store, and leaning over the counter, and addressing the young man. ‘Have you 'A heart that loves me only?’ ’ —‘Yes, miss,’ was the reply; ‘and here is ‘A health to thee, Mary.' Mary took the •orgs, and was leaving the store, when suddenly she returned. 'Oh, I forgot! 1 want ‘one sweet, kiss before we part.’ — The clerk fainted. 'A n ill timed Prater —Last summer *t Mull, a messenger having requested a London clergyman to announce 'if Dr. “— was among the audience, he was urgently wanted,’ the clergyman added, from sympathy, ‘and may God have mercy on the poor patient!’ —Ml — 111 — A man named Albert Parsons fell upon the side walk dead, in Boston, Mass. In his pocket was a written request that his body might be burned. He died of a disease of the heart, and bad carried the request alluded to in bis pocket forsevsral yssra.

HOW TO SETLE HIM. BY CLARA SYDNEY. Thomas Ledyard was too rich to need i to attend to business, and too lazy to desire to; therefore, he ‘retire,’ and as a mat.ser of course, became a nuisance to himI self and to everybody else. This is what a man or a woman with ‘nothing to do’ is I almost certain to become, as has been ofI ten proved Mr. Ledyard had been a fair sort of man. His wife had thought herself a most fortunate woman when she awoke .one morning and found herself Mrs. Ledyard. Alas! poor lady, she didn’t know ‘how wealthy her husband would become I nor bow early he would retire from business. ! We all have cause to’change our opinions many times during life, and Mrs. Ledyard now thought that it was possible that many other women, to say the least, as fortunate as she was. Her husband 1 grew more and more surly, medlesome and captious, every day of his life. He was round the house and round the house and in the ladies’ chamber, annoying visitors, tormenting his daughters, and abusing the servants from morning till night. He didn’t really mean to be ugly and disagreeable—he was not aware that he was so; but, as his wife feelingly observed, ‘Oh, dear! oh, dear!’ The worthy bore on silently till her heart became too full to carry its bur- ’ den any longer alone. Then she overflowed into the sympathizing bosom of a certain lady friend of hers, called Mia-

riam. ‘Oh! Miariam, what shall I do with Mr. Ledyard? 1 don't know but whathe wd! kill me, and everybody in the house. He is in everybody's way—hindering, pestering, and snubbing everybody—and keeping the house in constant distress.— He shows himself so queer to visitors that I am greatly mortified, and the girls arc nearly beside themselves with vexation and shame. A gentleman can’t show one of our daughters the most common attention, but what her father will take it up, and call the man to account. Poor Hattie was fastening in a loose lining to Mr. Shaw’s straw hat the other day, and her father coming in, became instantly angry, and asked her, in a tone so loud that Shaw heard and reddened painfully, if she expected to become that young gallant’s wife. The girls say justly Jhat they shall soon be entirely neglected, and become the laughing stock of all the town, in con- | sequence of the absurd conduct of their father. There is no possibility of keeping out of the room when there is company, and ho is always certain to annoy and offend some one. And to think that this man is the very same person that I was so proud and so glad to accept as my hnsi band How different are the realities of | life from its imaginations!’ | ‘True, Louise, I often think of my own girlish visions of matrimony, and contrast them with what the reality has beep. My hero, whom I worshiped, has become a tired and sleepy boarder and lodger, who I snores exceedly; my bower of delight is i a great house that is forever needing to be swept and dusted; the delightful occui pations of domestic life have resolved themselves into seeing to servants, and waiting and tending on children. Ah! I I used to fancy the sweet enjoyment ofcarj easing the fair children of the husband of Imy love; I never thought of their dirty faces, their dirty’ elbthes, their vicious lit--1 tie capers, biting and scratching when thev ought to kiss; kicking, squalling, and looking shamefully homely, when company to whom vou particularlydesire them to recommend themselves comes in; and as to their mortal hatred of sleeping when they most need sleep, and are cross l as X without it, I knew nothing at all of that. But this husband of yours —we must see to him; for there is no sense, nor any piety in living as you say you do, ; where it can be avoided.’ I ‘No, if it can be avoided.’ ‘Well, my dear, it. certainly can. Do ; you know that I would keep that man asleep three quarters of his time, if he were my husband?’ 'Asleep! how?’ exclaimed Mrs. L, in : astonishment. •Why, as my mother used to keep a wild brother of mine asleep He used to be too fund of the theatre, <fcc., always wanted to be out at nights, and mother, in desperation, went to the doctor, and after telling him her tiouble, asked him II there was not some powerful but innocent sleeping potion that she could put ! into Marco’s lea or coffee, and thus induce I him to go to his bed, instead of out to ■ places of amusement and dissipation. ■ The doctor gave her something that she 1 used for years on that boy, and he was never aware of it. He often wondered why he was so sure to grow sleepy at the the'very thought of the theatre, but finally concluded that home and bed were tnueh more desirable than the finest piny ’ •You wouldn’t seiveyotu husband such

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

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, DEC. 10, 1858.

'a trick,’ said Mrs. Ledyard, hesitatingly, j ‘My husband! give him a sleeping po-' tion! My dear Louise, you are out of! your mind. I’d much rather give him a dose of laughing gas. He is too sleepy ! ' now to be any company for me. Besides my dear James never inteferes with house hold matters, and never finds fault where lit is not needed. He is good-natured to a fault.’ Poor Mrs Ledyard sighed. ‘My husband’s faults do not lie in that direction. I wish they did. Bui I’m I afraid I might hurt him if I went to giv- . ing him things to make him sleep.’ ‘Not if you give him the powder we used to use on Harry. Why, judge for yourself. Is there a more lobust quickwitted, business like man in town than that same brother of mine? He is a likely and prosperous man, and all owing to that powder. Yon know the bomoeophathists give medicine tor ugliness, now you try it, and a ee if you don’t like the es- ! feci.’ When Mrs. Ledyard approached her house, that same forenoon, she saw one of her daughters coming to meet her ■ bathed in tears, an open letter in her I hand. ‘What is it mj' child?’ asked the moth- ' er, in alarm, though she saw there was no black seal upon tho letter. ‘Oh! ma, what shall I do? There is that gentleman that I told you boarded i at my uncle’s in the city, anil who was so kind and attentive to me, coming this afternoon to L., and this evening he says ■ he shall do himself the honor to visit me. Now, you know, when pa talks as he does ■to people, when they only come in from 1 about town to see us girls, what will he ' I say when this stranger comes so far to ■ call on me? lam frightened to death.— I want very much indeed to see this gentleman, but I’m sure I shall die if he is treated as others are who come here.— • What shall I do?’ 'My dear, you must do the best you can. ■ Perhaps something will occur to prevent •, the mortification you anticipate. At any irate, hope for the best, and cheer up to 1 rective vour visitor in a becoming man- • ner.’ But it fell out then, as it generally does that it was a great deal easier saying ■ i ‘ebeer up,’ than It was dying it, nnd Mloo Vaginia was in a lair way to make herself entirely unfit to be seen before eve- !, ning. In this distress Mrs. Ledyard’s I resolve was taken. She went to her daughter, and told her to stop her weep- ’! ing directly, and to trust in her promise that no mortification should befall her in , consequence of her father's behavior. •How do vou know, mother? You can’t i hinder him from doing and saying just ' whatever he has a mind to do and say, ’ | and you know he never will go out when I anybody wantshim to.’ N ‘Never mind, child; I have passed my word that you shall not be annoyed; now 1 all that remains for you is to believe it, and to take ail the pleasure you desire in the anticipation of seeing you friend from 1 the city.’ 1 Vaginia thought this rather my sterious 1 ■ but she had great confidence in the word 1 of her beloved mother, and therefore was able to overcome her depression of spirits, ! and to appear at the tea table in her usual good looks. Mr. Ledyard was uncommonly fractious during all the repast, and the accustomed gloom settled over the family; but before long it was observed that the bead of the head of the house appeared to be quite too heavy for his neca to support —in fact Mr. Ledyard nodded several times most vigorously. He was astonished at his own sleepiness, and re- ‘ belled against it quite as determinedly as babies do when their cradle time comes. But our gentleman’s eflorts were attended with less'success than often crowns theirs. Every moment he was father gone. ‘Louise,’ he said, ‘seems to me I’m very tired and sleepy. I’m afraid 1 m not quite well.’ 1 ‘Oh! I guess it’s not that. Nou know you’ve been riding in the wind, and that s apt to make one sleepy. Nou look perfectly well, but do seem tired. Perhaps you’d better lie down a little while.’ •No—l guess I can overcome this dullness. I want to make out all those bills this evening, and have the girls help me. ■ Vaginia, go and bring down the books. I shall want vou with me till ten o clock. Vaginia turned her dismayed face motherward. There was encouragement , there. She arose to obey her father’s command. Smash went something. She turned; her father had dropped his saucer and it was in fragments on the floor.— His head was bowed upon his breast. One desperate effort he made, and raised it for a moment. •Louise, I think I will lie down a few ments.’ His wife was instantly at his side.— With the help of the girls, the sleepy gentleman was soon safe and comfortable in his bed. •How funny!’cried the younger chil-1 dren.

I wonder if he is sick?* questioned one anxiously. ‘No— not in the least,’ was the mother’s reply. Vaginia said—‘What can it. mean?’ ■ Her mother smiled and looking expressively in her daughter’s (ace, said—‘You must ask no questions, my child. Enough 1 that you are free from what you dreaded this forenoon.’ I Instead of being counscience-stricken as she looked upon her serenely sleeping spouse, Mrs. Ledyard felt such relief I (only a thousand-fold more of it) as > others do when, after long and weary £: kicks and squalls innumerable, ufey have at last conquered, and the ! obstreperous babe lies at rest snugly tuck ed in his cradle.

She felt her husband’s pu!se, his brow, and laid her hand upon his heart, to assure herself that all was right, and then she sat down beside him with her so wing and ‘took comfort.’ She really enjoyed bitn, as she had not been able to do for long years. He looked so peaceable, so gentle, as he slept, that it hardly seemed possible that he could be such an inveterate freter and snarler. His wife sat beside him, and forgot all that; she went away back to the honeymoon, and evoked from the past the many joys that once were hers. And thus the sun went down, and the twilight gathered. Meantime there was a jubilee in the house below. Sad, that the happiest time known to young, loving and innocent hearts, was a time when the father was absent, and could by no means come to view them. Vaginia camo softly to say that her visitor had come, and her mother went i down with her to the parlor. It was a happy evening to the young girl, for she felt, from her visitors manner, that the interest he inspired was not unnoticed or unvalued. Mrs. Ledyard was pleased and happy too for she ’.iked the gentleman exceedingly, and had long known from her brother his excellent character and generous nature. How thankful she was that, on this his first visit to her dear child, he was not to be offended or insulted by her self-willed anti ungracious husband". Before he less the ladies, Mr. Blackstone remarked that he had hoped to m ike the acquaintance of Miss Vaginia’s father at that time, and added, in a significant manner, tiiat he expected to have some business with him at some period not far in the future. What Mr. Blackstone meant by this, of course no one knew. In the morning Mr. Ledyard was in a very mild, amiable way. Everybody wondered at him. He remarked confidentially to his wife that he hadn’t felt so well for a long time; had been very nervous and unhappy in his mind, and he believed that lie hall got nearly worn out when that sleep was sent to restore him to strength and calmness.’ ‘I needed it, you see, my dear, and nature knows when to apply her cures.’ This was certainly very satisfactory.

I What proved so good once was not likeily to be forgotten in other limes of need ' and many were the time naps which considerate ‘Nature’ sent to Mr. Ledyard.— Indeed, she got quite in the habit of the thing; so much so that the man began to understand that as soon as he became fretful and annoying to pelsons about him he would soon be falling asleep, wherever he might be doing. And he invariable awoke better natured. At length he took the lesson (privately, for he never owned his convictions that ‘Nature’ was thus schooling him) to heart so much, that he set out in good earnest to govern himself and to reform, and by the time that Vaginia was happily married to Mr. Blackstone, and one or two of his other daughters were upon the point of matrimony, he had become so agreeable when aioaite, that ‘Nature’ didn’t think best to be sending him to any further extra exploration of ‘Nod.’ Gentle reader, this is asketch founded on solid fact. Whether you judge those facts to be proper or not, one thing is certain, namely—any man (or any woman) who is nothing but a torment to all about him while awake, had better be kept quietly sleeping. Don’t vou think so?

Hearsay Testimony. Two literary ladies were lately witnesses in a trial. One of them upon hearing the usual questions asked, ‘What is your name? and how old are you?’ turned to her companion and said; 'I do not like to tell my age; not that I have any objection to its being known; but I don’t want it published in the newspapers.’ ‘Well,’ said the witty Mrs. 8., ‘I will tell you how you can avoid it. You have heard the objections to all hearsay evidence; tell them you don’t remember when you were born, and all you know of it is by hearsay.’ The ruse took, and the question was not pressed. Wilful waste makes woeful want.

An Article fur Parents. | The education of the mind has come to be regarded, in our country, as a universal necessity. We believe that all men—- , and each individual man— ought to be I educated; that our liberties depend on ' the proper education ’of the people, and i the sound and enlightened public opinion thus formed; that every human mind ought to be educated as much as possible; that the immortal powers bestowed by | our Creator cannot be developed too much ,or range too widely the limitless realm lof knowledge; and that it is the bounden I duty of those who possess these blessings, .to aid others in their attainment. Such j principles as these, of whose truth we are well persuaded, and which we arc in the constant habit of asserting,’ with reference to flic education of the mind, apply in a far higher sense to the education of the heart, and enforce with tenfold power the duty of religious instruction. The former is not complete without the latter; for a system which educates a human soul for time and ignores all preparation for eternity, is without doubt, at once imperfect and unnatural. But, in a truer view of the matter, mental, training without moral culture is postively dangerous and possibly destructive. Some mi-n glorify Mind and Reason, as if they were almost Gods to bo worshiped; and talk of education, as if it were the only and adequate regenerating power of the world and the human race. The truth is, fclußation alone is an insufficient moral basis; it must be sanctified by divine truth, or it will become a curse instead of a blessing. To store the memory with knowledge—to train the understanding, to diciplme the reason, to draw forth all the wondrous energies of the human soul—and then have all this perverted to the ruin of the man himself, the injury of his fellow-men, and the hindrance of the cause of truth in the world—it would have been far better to leave those powers dormant and unseen forever; far better let the ore rust in mine, than forge a weapon from i t for the hand of the evil one. In the rude block of marble, just brought from the quarry, and ready to be fashioned by the sculptors chisel, there lie hidden a thousand possible conceptions of beauty or deformity. If the right artist and the right instrument are brought to bear upon it, there may stand forth a face hideous with depravity, malice, and every evil passion, or a countenance glowing with the light of a morning star, and clothed in the loveliness of an inhabitant of heaven. The photographer takes the burnished raetalic plate, and prepares it for the impress of the sunlight. But it still remains perfectly optional with him, ! whether upon that sensitive and receptive surface shall be stamped features so radiant with beauty that the beholder shall gaze upon it with pleasure, and remem ber it with delight, or lineaments so dis torted with passion, and marred with vice I and evil, that we shall turn away disgust- i ed from the sight. Just so, in the mind i unsubjected as yet to the precesses of ed- ! ucation, there lie concealed the possibilities of unlimited good and unlimited evil: aud just according as holy or unhuly instruments do the work, may that, soul become an angel or a fiend. So plain is it that, super-added to intellectual culture, we must have moral and religious training.—2V" Y. Ledger, It is authoritatively stated that Napoleon 111. is taking steps to carry into execution a favorite plan of Napoleon 1., for laying up stores of corn, after the manner of the Pharoahs, in every large town, during plentiful years, in order to provide against years of scarcity. The protectionists like this plan, which they think will secure them altogether against foreign importations. Women require more sleep than men, ! aud farmers less than those engaged in any other occupation. Editors, reporters, printers, and telegraph operators need no sleep at all. Lawyers can sleep as much las they choose, and keep out of mischief' »i m ■ A few days ago on the farm of the Hon John W. Davis, near Montezuma, Ind;, j two large springs burst forth from the ■ earth, and continued to throw off such volumes of water that large fields in the ' neighborhood have been covered with , standing pools and ponds. Since Morphy hqg been in Europe, up I to the time of the close of the Harrwitz ! game, he has played one hundred and seventeen games, sixteen of which he lost, I eighty-eight won, and thirteen drawn. A spendthrift, who had wasted his pat- | rimony, rallying a frugal country gentle- j man, said, among other things,’ ‘l’ll war-1 rant those buttons on your coat were I your grandfathers.’ ‘Yes,’ said the other, 'and I have got my grandfathers lands i tool’ Mr. conductor,’ asked a railroad pas senger, ‘are we running on time to dav” ‘No, we are running for cash ’

Idel Boys. >; A wiiter in the North western Chris- • | tian Advocate the following sound - advice to boys which all onr voung read- * I ers would do well to consider: i He who is idle and vicious in school it I still more so when he leaves it. He who i fires squibs will in time fire pistols. , He who plays cards for sport, will, if ha ; turn not play ero long lor money. He , who robs hen roosts and orchards will i' probably some day rob "safes, and pick i pockets. He may not do it in the way to expose himself to the penitentiary; he have his wits so sharpened as to rob legally, by settingup wild cat bank, or betraying the confidence of bis employer, : or obtaining the possession of property - without tho means of paying for it, or by , getting his hands upon public coffers. that he may fill his own, under the soft appellation of ‘breach of trust’ 1 would that you could see with my eyes for a little while; you would then think with me, that he who when a boy. could not be trusted, can not when he i» a man. It would not be proper for me ■ to mention names, or I could illustrate this by numerous painful examples. But . they a r e not necessary. Effect will foli low ci.vse—as a man sew so shall he ■ reap: boyhood is the second time, of : which manhood is the harvest. As, therefore, you love yourselves, i from the habit, while young, of employing all your time usefully. Never be unemployed. The land is full of idlers, to liva without labor. It is not to be supposed i that you are never to take recreation; this i is useful, it is necessary—but if it coma ■ after hard study or productive, labor, it will probably be healthful and moderate. ■ An honorable mind in the desire of mero i relaxation, will not go forth in the forms II of misohieveous exertion, It is not to be I supposed that a is to be a man; much i j less an old man; hut in the midst ot hi* mother and hilarity, he may be innocent ' and amiable. A Narrow Escape from a Fortune.— A gentlemen of this city, formerly con,l nected with the turf, recently made a visit to England, and while there attended a , number of the races, betting pretty freely | in a small way, and generally coming out winner. Finally, before leaving, h* , ..went to the Cesarawitch races with a balance in his favor up to that date of soon j $14,000 on his operations, and finding I the odds ten to one against Ten Broeck’s ,' prioress, he concluded to risk his pile on her. She came out about six inches behind. Had she won, he would have poketed $140,000. To coma within six inches of making that amount of money, wo should call running a pretty narrow chance. — Cincinnati Gazette. Wooden Cannon Balls —A Russian correspondent of the Rochester Union ■ relates the following anecdotes of the Rus- ; sian Czar, which shows that not even era I perors are exempt from the operation of I sharpers: ‘The Etnpeior Alexander gave a large I order for the manafantuae of canon balls to some concern at Helsingfors, a port on the Gulf. They completed the order, stacked up and delivered the balls, received their pay. and put the money in their pockets. The Emperor, being them one day, took it into his head to inspect the balls. Taking one up, he discovered it to be exceedingly light for iron, and taking out his knife, scraping it, and behold it was a wooden hall painted black, as was the entire lot. He caused the swindlers, and they were transported for life to Siberia.’ I Crinoline not original.—The crinolines cannot boast of originality. Among the Greek ladies, a long time ago, even a i better fashion prevailed than that which is now kept up by whalebone, ratan, bras | rods, watch springs, and hogshead hoops. They could enjoy store peticoats! The amyanthus, or asbestos, a native fossil stone, could readily be split into filaments, and, woven, like any other threads, into cloth suitable for the sacred purpose in question. Moreover, they were exempt from all ; washtub immersions? for, when soiled, ; they need only to be cast into the grate, whence they come out unharmed, and whiter than snow,* by considerable.’ A few days since a couple of young , men at Rock Island were out sailing on , the Mississippi river, and accidently lost a brass key, to which was attached » small iron ring. The key opened a vault, and the young men were in tribulation at its loss. At last they hit upon a novel expedient to recover it. They procured a powerful magnet, attached it to a string, ; and threw it into the river where they had lost the key: In about ten minutes ! the magnet was brought to the surface, with the key attached. Mrs. Partington desires to know why the captain of a vcssle can’t keep » , memorandum of the weight of his anchor instead of weighing it »vsi ’ time he p.rC

NO. 44.