Decatur Eagle, Volume 2, Number 47, Decatur, Adams County, 31 December 1858 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EARLE.

VOL. 2.

THE EAftLE. rBLtSIIKD EVRRY FRIDAY MORNINCJ, BY j PHILLIPS & SPENCER, Bet, on Hein Street, in the old School House, one Square North ol J. & P Crabs' Store. Terms of Subscription : or one year, $1 50, in advance; $1 75, within ie year, and $2 00 after the year has expired. Jj"No paper will be discontinued until all rrrra>tes are paid, except at the option of the 'ublishcrs. Terms of Atlvevtisinsr: dp square, (ten lines) three insertions, $1 00 jeh subsequent insertion, 25 JTNo advertisement will be considered less j , in one square; over one square will be coun,4 and charged as two; over two, as three,etc. JOB PRINTING: We arc prepared to do all kinds of job-wokk, c s neat and workmanlike manner,on the most reasonable terms. Our material for the completion of Job-Work, being new and of the latest stvles, and we feel confident that satisfaction [can be Riveni__— ' CO dETO ME IIV MY BREAMS. nr gkohok n. rcKVTicE. Come in beautiful dreams, lore, Oh, come to me oft, When the light wings of sleep On my bosom lie soft, Old come when the sea, In the moon’s gentle light

Beats low ou the ear, Like the pulse of the night— When the sky ati-l the wave Wear their loveliest blue; When the dew’s on the flower And the star on the Jew. Come in beautiful dieatus, love, Ohl coins and, we'll stray, Where the whole year is crowned With the blossoms of May Where each sound is as sweet As the coo of the dove, And the gales are as soft As the breathing of love; Where the beams kiss the wave* And the waves kiss the beach, And our warm lips may catch The sweet lesson they teosh Coma in beatlful dreams, love. Oh! come,and we ll fly, Like two winged spirits Os love, through the sky; With hand clapped in hand. On our dream-wings we’ll go, U hem the starlight and moonlight Are Mending their glow: led on bright clouds we’ll linger Through long dreamy hours,

’Till love’s angels envy The heaven of ours. j Shopkeepers of Cape Town. The shopkeepers of Cape Town were i the most original beings in the world. At a given hour the doors of the establishment were closed, while master and shopmen ate their dinner and look their midday siesta, refusing resolutely to attend to any husiness during tlnese hours (which occupied nearly half the day) of relaxation. Helen heard many laughable accounts of these easy-going merchants, but still remained incredulous of the exact truth, until one day she experienced the very coolness she had doubted. Accidentally, or carelessly choosing the middle of the day for a shopping excursion, she set off with an officer’s wife to make thu purchases she required. They entered a large shop; the master, a stout, sleepy-looking Dutchman, sat behind the counter, almost invisible in a cloud of smoke. T want some printed cotton, Meinherr,’ said Helen. ‘Dat is likely,

Madame,’ was the rejoinder. 'Will you show me some?' asked Helen, rather impatiently. ‘Dat, you see, I cannot do; dis is the hour of rest, my lady; der is the cotton—like him, why take him.’ Helen looked at the shelf, but it was far beyond her reach, and, in despair, she turned to her companion to ask what was to be done. Here she was only met by a laugh. Her friend had often told her of the taciturnity of the merchants, and was now uot a little amused at the truth meeting Helen s own observation. —Adventures of Mrs. Somerset. • ■' “ ***^^^*** ’My children,' said a rich old lady, ‘I ft® the root, and you are the branches.’ ‘Grandma,’ said one. 'What, my child?' ‘I was thinking how much better the j branches would fionrish if the root was under the ground.’ Sweep first before your own door, ere you sweep before vour neighbor's. — FredrHn Brevier

'1 HE MYSTERIOUS GAMBLER. BY AS OLD STAGER. I have made several passages up the ! I Mississippi and Ohio rivers, and never without seeing on board the steamers ! more or less professional gamblers. It is i a thriving business on the boats where | ; time hangs heavily on the hands of the j passengers, and the blacklegs carry off! large sums of money, they usually remain on board but a day or two—long enough j to have their true character exposed. I This gentry had become such an intol-j 1 erable nuisance that the captains of the j boats did not knowingly permit one to i : come on board; and not unfrequently a j !; brace of blacklegs were landed in the ■) woods when their profession was discov- j ,:ered. During one of my trips the boat put ; ,in at the mouth of the Arkansas river, ! and as usual I took a stroll on shore. 1 i heard the bell for the departure of the steamer, and hastened back to the landj itig. As I was on my way I was overtaken by a gentleman with a broad-brim-med hat, green goggles, and a white neckcloth, tugging along with a large valise.

‘I am rather late am I not?’ said he as j he joined me. •True enough sir/ I replied respectfully, for the gentleman was a clergyman, a! Methodist itinerant, I supposed. ‘My valise is rather heavy, and I feared ; I should lose the boat.’ ‘Let me help you carry it, sir,’ said I. He accepted my civil offer, and I took hold of the valise, which was certainly ! : loaded very heavy for a Methodist parson. i In a few moments we reached the steamer and I passed on board; but ray new ; acquaintance had accomplished but half the distance, when the plank canted, and ihe was thrown into the river. Fortu- 1 nately for him I was prompt in mv euuris |to rescue him, and he wa3 immediately drawn on board, with no other detriment I than a thorough ducking. My friend, whom, as I never learned | his name, 1 shall have to call the Rev. Goggles, retired to a vacant state-room. j 03 j It was now nearly dark and I did not see j him again that night.

As usual, in the evening, there was a \ j table in the cabin, devoted to cards; in a word, there was gambling without stint, i No one objected to the practice so long as ! [ it was not done by professional blacklegs, j I never played but I often stood by the i table to observe the progress of the game ! and study the looks of the players, as they were agitated by the fickle chances of a | moment. i While I was thus watching them, I ob- : served on the opposite side of the table a well dressed gentleman who was regar- , | ding with eager interest the plays of gami biers. He manifested a desire to engage . j in the place of one who had been cleaned j . out. | It was soon apparent that the new com- >' er was a skillful player, and time after . time he swept the board of all that had been staked. In a short time his com-- , panions had enough of it and withdrew, f He had a large sum of money, and was evidently satisfied with his evening’s work. ’ ...

H» smoked on the boiler deck until all j the passengers had retired, and then left. Much curiosity had been manifested to know who and what he was. Nobody bad seen him before and nobody remembered when he came on board, and what seemed most singular of all, we had not stopped during the night. The next day was Sunday and at breakfast my Methodist friend made his appearance. I ‘My young, friend, I have to thank you for the good service you did me last evening. lam poor; I have none of the world’s goods. I trust that all my treasures are laid up in Heaven. But the j Lord will reward you if I cannot.’ ‘Don’t mention it, my dear sir, I am i happy to have been the means of saving 1 you,’ I replied. We conversed a while upon the matter, and my friend then spoke of having service on board, if agreeable to the passen- ! rC rs. Os course it was agreeable, and the parson prayed and exhorted with ureal

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

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, DEC. 81, 1858.

that would have done honor to the most J celebrated revivalists. The impression prodneed by the ser- j j vice, I am sorry to say, was not perma-1 j nent, for, when evening came the gaining table was spread out as usual, and the i games commenced. The mysterious j gambler appeared again much to the suri prise of all, for it was believed that he | had been landed or lost overboard. He ! played and swept the board as before.— ! Some of the weaker ones began to think i lie was the devil in disguise, and their be- j ! lief was almost confirmed when the next j | day nothing could be found of him. The passengers made him the subject ! of their conversation, and quite an excite-' ment was kindled. The captain swore, if jhe appeared again, he would throw him I into the river. A thorough search was made for him, but all in vain. Mv Methi odist friend was especially indignant, and j believed it would be a good plan to hang i every gambler. As soon as the true | character uas discovered, I agreed with j him entirely. One young man from Cincinnati was particularly distressed in the sudden disappearance of the blackleg, for he had

r r o’ under the influence of an overdose of brandy, staked and lost a half eagle. I which his mother had given him just be- | fore her death. It was not the loss of the ! money that distressed hitn, for he had plenty of that, but it was the associations | connected with the coin itself. There was , a history belonging to it, be said, and he would give the gambler double the value of it, if he would return it, with a little ring attached to it. That evening to the disappointment of all on board, who were prepared to deal with him in a summary manner, the blackleg did not appear. Man or devil, he ; had the means of knowing of the indigna- ! tion his acts uiu eausea. TUoro was a ! strange mystery about him. Every part of the steamer was again searched in vain < for him, and it seemed certain that he ; could not have gone ashore. The next day I was talking with the Rev. Mr. Goggles, not about the gambler j but on general topics. Os course his life as an itinerant, was full of interest to me.

He told me how cheaply he lived and traveled from place to place; that he was often hungry, and never had over ten i dollars at once. ‘I have only five now,’ he said; and to verify his statement, he took from his pocket a half eagle. 1 glanced at it. There was a hole in it with a ring attached! It was certainly the property of the young man from Cincinnati! ‘What is this ring?’ I asked. ‘This piece was given me by a woman in Arkansas, who was converted under my preaching.’ The liar! I had already made up my mind that he was an imposter, in short, j that he was the mysterious gambler. Before dinner time, I had an opportunity to whisper my view to the captain and while we were at dinner, his slate room was j searched. A large sum of money was ! found there, and many of the gambler’s i. tools, as well as the dress the ‘unknown’ j had worn.

j ‘Parson, can you swim?’ asked the captain as the Rev. Mr. Goggles came upoD the boiler deck. ‘A little,’ he replied, with a demure smile. •You will have a chance to try; lam going to throw you overboard.’ The captain took him by the collar and explained the matter to the astonished passengers, who were quite ready to assist in emptying his pockets, and then throwing him overboard. The money taken from him was paid over to his victims. The last we saw of him, he was swiming vigorously toward shore, cursing the captain with quite as much zeal as he had ! used in praying and exhorting. The young man from Cincinnatti got his cherished coin, and 1 think learned a j useful lesson. Among the vows that a man has to make in Japan, when he is married, is one 1 that he will find plenty of tea and rice for his wife during he life.

Family Failing. ! -The habit of viewing everything in a I ridiculous light is one of the family faili ings that 1 would warn against. It too | often leaps to an unamiable desire to detect and hold up to ridicule the faults of l others, and it almost always destroys the finer feeligs ol admiration for what is beau-; tiful, and the tender and more lovable J qualities of putting the best construction upon the actions of others, &c. A critical, censorious, fault-finding person is a most unamiable being; and let us not con ceal the true odiousness of such proprenjsi ties ourselves under the guise of a • j sense of the ludicrous, j In many 'families, however, where both j love and good temper prevail, there H what m-y be called an irksome, rather: (than a sinful, mode of harping and con- i tradictiog one another. No harm isj meant, and no offence is taken; but what, can be more irksome than to hear two | ! sisters, for instance, continually setting) each other right upoD trifling points, and differing from each other in opinion for no : apparent reason, but form habit of con- j r tradiction? and such a habit does it be- > come that one may sometimes see ( persons who have acquire! it, contradict their own statements just made the moment any one advances the same" > opinion. It is generally on such trifles . that this bad habit shows itself, so that i it may seem needless to advert to it; but :— f :i„ r-..n —i iv. .

it is a family fault, and should be watch- j ed against, for it is an annoyance, though I a petty one, never to be able to open your | lips without being harrassed by such a! contradiction as, .‘Oh no, that happened on Tuesday, not Wednesday;' or, if you ; remark that the clouds look threatening, j to be asked with a tone of surprise, ‘Do 1 you think it looks like rain? lam suie j there is no appearance of such a thing.’ ■ Nartate an incident, every small item is ; corrected; hazard an opinion, it is wondered at or contradicted; assert a fact, it ! is doubted and questioned; till you at j length keep silent m despair. —Friends Intelligencer. Fearful Leap of an Insuuc Ulan. Ou Wednesday morning last, after the 16.30 train on the Central road had left Chicago, Conductor Wandless while col-1 1 leetiny the tickets, was accosted bv one , of the passengers with rather startling remark—‘Look here, conductor! I’m pretty smart! They wanted me to marry a girl in Dubuque but I got away from them, though they kept eleven hundred 1 dollars of my money.’ The conductor • saw at once that the man was deranged . and endeavored to draw from his own intimation of his name and residence. He stated, after some ingenious questioning

that his name was P. W. Potter; that he lived in Dubuque, and that he knew a banker there named Langworthy. It was ascertained afterwards from parties o.n board that he had reached Chicago the j same morning, on the Galena train and a gentleman from Alabama, who was among the passengers, said he knew him twenty i years ago, in Vermont. He "paid his fare j first to Michagan City, exhibiting, as he ] did so, a beautiful supply of S2O! gold pieces. Upon reaching that place . he concluded he would go on to New Bus- , falo, then to Niles, and then to Decatur. On reaching New Buffalo. Mr. Wand- j less telegraphed to Mr. Langworthy at j Dubuque, hoping to hear from him at ! some station further east but failed to do so. Soon after leaving Decatur, the as- j dieted man stepped on the platform • whither the conductor followed, and tried j in vain to persuade him to go back info! the cars. After remaining a few minutes j he passed to the platform of the oontingi- j I ous car, and from thence leaped to the i 'ground, the train meanwhile running at i the rate of twenty-five miles an hour! The train was immediately stopped, j and backed up some three quarters of a ■ mile, when the maniac was overtaken, !

! and brought on the cars. He did not seem to be much injured j 1 except in one arm, which seemed some-1 what paralized. On reaching Kalamazoo , he was left in charge of parties there, in whose custody he remained at last advices, i He was a well dressed, gentlemanly ap--1 pearing man, of florid complexion sandy j whiskers, and wore gold spectacles. If . this notice should fall under the eyes of his friends, they may hear from him by addressing the railroad agent at KalamaJ O <3 ; zoo. ’ Passengers on the train represent Coni ! ductor Wandless’ attentions to the unfortunate man as beyond all praise. A boarding school Miss, deeming meat, s a word too vulgar for refined ears, defines ] it thus: ‘To insert nutritious pabulum into the denticulated orttice below the nasal pro--1 tuberance, which being masticated, per--1 egranites through the cartilaginous savacties of the larynx, and is finally domij cliated in the receptacle for digested paro tides.’ e Why are fowls the most ecanomieal r i things farmers keep? Because for every grain they give a peck.

‘•Naturals’’ on a Tour. A correspondent of the New Orleans Picayune narrates the following incident of a recent journey of Professoi Agassiz, Felton and Dr. Holmes, ‘the Autocrat,’! i to White Mountains; — ‘The party was so numerous as to re- ; quire a special conveyance for their trans-! j portation from Conway to tke Crawford ] i House. This conveyance was a large country wagon, drawn by a team of fine 1 Green Mountain horses, and driven by a I sturdy son of the Granite State, ‘The day was one of the finest of the j j season, and admirably adapted for such an excursion, and every one, after his I speciality, seemed to take the keenestde- | light in its incidents. Occasionally the' ‘geologist would spy out some curious con-, j formation or remarkable specimen of rock ; and would insist on the driver stopping to I allow him to alight and investigate it.— ' This would often consume much lime, and ! it more than once occurred that the impatient Jehu was obliged to remind the j deeply absorbed party that the day was wasting, and that they had a long ride before them. In the height of his impatience, the | depth of his despair, and the extremity of _ his perplexity, he turned to his companion on the box, for Professor F., I should remark, had taken no part in the scientific i researches of his brethren. ! ‘What on arth’s the matter with them

men, Sqire?’ somewhat petulentlj deman-; the bothered Jehu. ‘What are they about stopping the team and jumping out every ; time they come across a loose stone or a ! big dandvlion, or thistle in the road?— Wlio are they, any how, Squire,’ he cX--1 claimed, in an agony of mingled curiosi ty and impatience. ‘Oil,’ quietly remarked our absorbed i Grecian, ‘they are naturalists.’ A few days after this the same team j was engaged for this identical trip by a party of Bostonians. As they rattled ! along the turnpike through the Notch, one jof them said to the driver, who was de--1 iightedly ruminating on the contrast be-' 1 tween lvis present orderly company and j the troublesome he had been so perplexed i with a day or two before — ‘Good deal of travel along here this summer? EH. driver?’ ‘Wal considerable, this week or so,’ was the reply. ‘I suppose you have about as much as I you can do. m>w-adays, carrying people to the mountains, don’t you?’ continued j the tourist. ‘Pretty nigh,, replied our Jehu of the wagon. ‘I had a queer party along, the ■ other day—the last before you. I never see such a set of fellows.’

‘What, were they like?’ ‘Like? Like lonnatics, more’n anything ! else I know on! Why, I thought I should j never get up to Crawford’s. Every once j in a while they’d stop the team, and jump | out, and pick up a stone, or pull up a weed and then one of ’em would preach a long ! : sermon, and he’d done, all the rest would j j chatter over it; and it was e’en a’raost as i ! 1 could do to get ’em into the wagon agin ■ ' and as it was, it was daylight-down be-1 j fore we got to Crawford’s.’ I ‘Bui who were these people?’ inquired ' the whole company of listeners, in a breath • ‘Didn’t you find out?’ ‘Wal, not exactly, I axed their keeper who they were, and he told me that they were naturals!' A Soldici’s Life in Utah. A letter to the Phiadelphia Bulletin t from Camp Floyd U. T., dated October 13, says: j The quarters for the troops are going up rapidly, the soldiers making moriar ; and carrying ‘dobies’ to the masons, who ! are citizens hired by the quartermaster at; ! the pretty fair figure of six dollars a day, ! ‘and found. *’ Here you see a parly mix- | ing mud; there a parly carrying dobies; ! there a squad carrying lumber, and there

i — o j another squad nailing on the rough roofs, j Each man has his place, in the allotment ! of which your correspondent occupies the respectable and responsible position of hod : carrier for a Mormon. Many hands make j light work, however, and tha ‘fatigue du-; . ty,’ as it is called, is nothing more than healthful, pleasant exercise, and all day j long the merry joke and joyous laugh go round, and all are greatful to heaven and the peace commissioners at the prospect of a belter time this winter than was ex- j perietfeed last winter. The buildings will be substantial nnd comfortable, and every exertion is being made to render them as pleasant as possible. The Countrt for a Poor Man, if he will Work. —A Lousranian writes from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec: ‘I have i seen a sugar cane here as large round as a wine bottle, and fully eighteen feet high. Coffee of the finest kind, and all the fruits of the tropics are produced here, and can be produced to an enormous extent when ! labor and capital are available fer the purpose. Land here is now being sold by 1 the goverment at .§I,OOO per league.— r' Some Americans have bought tracts, and ! will soon have sugar to sell ’

A Mother’s Love. My father was left a widower in his first year of marriage, his wife having died in childbirth with us twins—myself ; and my brother George, whom some of I you have mistaken at limes, you koow, | for me. My poor mother hersel/ had : been also one of twins. For a few months ] after her death, her two sisters stayed i«» my fathers house to comfort him and look af'er us children. I was, however, soon ! put out to nurse, and George only remain|ed at home. He slept in the same room with his two aunts. I had been ftom ; home about a week or so, when Aunt Susan, on awaking about mid light, found | her sister out of bed, and walking about i the room. She knew Maria suffered | from ‘a raging tooth,’ so merely informed her where the laudanum was, and went to sleep again. Next night, as the two sisters were undressing, Susan said: l ‘Be sure to put the bottle so that you i will know where to find it, and not ruu the risk of catching your death of cold, a* I I you did last night.’ •I had not the toothache last night, and never left my bed at all,’ replied Maria. ■! ‘Then you must have done it in your f, sleep, for I saw you up as plainly as I ever saw you in my life.’ 11 So, with mutual recrimination and : denial, they retired to rest. Again Susan was awakened, and again i she saw her sister pacing about the room.

I o ‘Maria, come to rest,’ said she; the fire is out, and the cold will only increase the pain.’ Her sister turned a pnle face towards her, with an indescribably sorrowful and i touching expression, but said nothing.— Susan, thinking her to be seriously ill, was about to leave the bed, when, to her extreme astonishment, she perceived Ma- | ria fast asleep beside her. j It was my dead mother, then—the j very image of her living twiii-sister—she j had looked upon her those two nights.— | Susan fainted with excess of fear, and did j not waken her bedfellow till after dawn. '■ when nothing unusual was to be observj ed. She told, however, all she had seen; i and Maria, who was much the bolder of i the two, promised to keep vigil next night upon condition that my father was not to jbe informed of the matter, which she knew would distress him greatly*. She ! attributed the tiling herself to fancy and i a disordered system. That night, then they both watched; and when they had ! been in bed some time, they heard the | front door of the cottage open—my mo- | ther had been accustomed in her lifetime |to carry, for convenience, a latch key — and a well known gentle footstep pass up the stairs and into my fathers room.—

"e ..... ...... presently their own chamber door opened and; dressed in a white garment betwixt her gown and dressing-gown, tfieir dead sister glided in. She gave them an appealing, almost reproachful look, and : then turned to the little cradle where ; her baby-bov was sleeping and stoopjed down as if to kiss it. Once again ! she seemed to beseech them dumbly, and : left the room wilh a slow, noiseless tread. It was some minutes before they dared to 1 speak. Maria longed to address the spirit, but her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. In the morning they asked roy father whether he had seen any strange sight or no. ‘I saw nothing unusual,’ he replied; but when they told him all, he confessed, not without some effort: ‘And I, too, for these last ten days, have seen her every midnight. 1 hear the key in the front door; her tread npon the landing as ot old but her face as she stands by my bed-foot seems worn and piteous, and I know she has some grief she may not tell. 1 know I not what to do.’ After some more conversation, a sud- | den thought flashed upon my father’s : mind; and, saddling his horse himself, he rode oft' at full speed to the town about

i ten miles off, where I had been iutrusted ■to a respectable nurse. In that short interval which I psssed away from home, 'lie found shockingly altered ; half-starved and ill and bruised. Another nurse was instantly obtained, who, however, remain'ed at my own home with me. Never more | was seen by mortal eye that messenger | from tha dead; the boundless love which ! had burst the barrier of death itself—the affection of a mother for her child—was i never tried so terribly pgain. Gold’s new steam carriage, which is : constructed for use on common roads, was exhibited in the streets of New Havj en, Connecticut, on Saturday last. It is six by cixteen feet, and its weight is two and a half tons. Its performance was | satisfsetory. ; ‘I tell you Susan that I will commit ; : suicide if you won’t have me.’ •Well, Thomas, as soon as you have given me that proof of your affection, I • will believe that you love me.' Great men never indulge in affectation. [ It is your three cent folks that put on airs swell and grow pompous.

NO. 47.