Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 41, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 6 April 1872 — Page 2

warlike of all tiie tribes, acceptedthe terms of peso* with dejected •ullenness, but promised, by their orator, Rw HAWK to oollect all (be white captive* from the different towns, ind restore them by the coining Spring.

Runner? were then fore sent to all the Indian Tillages to command them to bring in their captives. A bold stalwart swift running Shawnee brave, who was

1

7

as As ft diseased etine herbs.

Just verging into manhood, was

dispatched to carry the intelligence to to families along the Wabash. He kept a direct course, looking at the bark of the trees for his guide—drinking from the thousand springs that

Eashed

all along his pathway—sending

is unerring arrow into the light-foot-ed bare when he desired a repastplucking the rich fruit which hung in rich clusters from the pending limbssleeping with the sky for his covering and the earth lor his bed, until, at length be arrived at the bluff which bounds Fort Harrison Prairie on the southeast, near where the little white church now overlooks the plain below.

It was past meridian of an autumnal day—the September winds had tinged the forest with crimson and with gold. The prairie, luxuriant with a thousand gears' richness, stretched in airy unduations far to the north and the south. Through the interstices in the trees which lined the river banks, sparkled, like molten silver, the calm, placid Wabash. It was a scene of peace, ot plenty and happiness. No sounds of busy life broke the eternal si 11 nets. It was a prospect more enchanting— wore rapturous than ever blessed the eyes ol a pale face.

I la

Upon this bluff, in bold outline, clad in rich Indian costume, and completely armed, stood Nemo, the hero of this leend. Shaded by the deep, dark forest, rotn which he just emerged, he seemed in full rejief-a bright figure on a dark background. He wore in his hair some pinions clipped from the wing of a mountain eagle. A belt richly wrought, artistically painted, encircled bis waist, in which hung a scalping knife and tomahawk. Over bis shoulders with more than Roman grace, was thrown a dressed deer-skin, and on his panting bosom, hung a polished plate of steel. As Nemo looked upon this scene, an eagle darted from the woods and screamed above his bead—emblematic of the freedom of the Indian's home. Instinctively he bent his bow and an arrow, freighted with death, transfixed its heart—emblematic of the poor Indian's fate.

The sun was fast sinking in the wost, painting each cloud with glory and with fire, when the eyes of Nemo caught through the forest which skirted the river, the smoke ot the wigwam curling in peace through Us branches. With a beating heart our messenger approached the village, and as the watch bayed hitii off, ho put his hand to his quiver of arrows and doin imlnd the protection of a stranger ami friend.

The old warrior whom we leit "lighting his battles o'or'' has finished, and liishod with ttia oxcitom jiu of his story, he behold of a sudden our young warrior standing in our wigwam door. T.ie form of tho old warrior became erect—his nostrils dilated—his eyos sparkled with rage, and his stalwart framO soomed to tower into giant proportions. Ho knew from the stranger's uiHiinor and his sjalp lock, that he was a hated Shawnee. He yelled a war whoo|—sprung for his bow and arrows, his tomahawk and scalping-kuife. The young Shawnee stepped a ice from the door—placed an arrow to his bow string and raised it to his eye. The ol warrior raised his tomahawk and advaneod, but ere ho roached tho young ohlef, tho sylph-like form of Lena stood beforo him. Her blue eyes flashed, and her tiny hand rosted on the arm the old chief. Trembling with terror she said, "My father touch not tlu stranger—he only asks shelter and food. Did Delaware ever refuso ei ther? Ho Is imleed a Shawnee, an ei

emy, but a Htr.uiier— he is tired iuid ask* for repose. hungry, and wants food, thirsty, imtl needs drink. Did a Delaware over thus drive a stranger

from hln door?" The old man dropped the tomahawk and bid tho stranger welcome. .. Nemo rehearsed the story of his mishlon. He took from his neck a strimjr of wampum shells. Upon some were carved the features of a pale face walking towards the rising sun. The likenoss of a great chief was upon anothor shell, and Nemo was represented as loading the pale face toward tho east. 'The old ohlef knew tho import of all this. He read the Indian symbolical language, and comprehended it. The stranger was to le ul to tho oast tho pale face captives, and his authority was tho great chief. Tho old warrior bowed beforo tho imperial mand vte—he knew death was the penalty of its violation.

Nemo then went into the details of his mission—IsMia listened attentively— *V she know she was a pale face—across her memory like filmy clouds vailing a summer sky, ever and anon would flit tho dreamy recollections of other days, -it of other scenes. Faint as tho images ol childhood would association after as ^soclitlon spring up in her mind. The whfvporing* of a mother's love, a fath'*er'seare. Tho fuint pictures of another home—'where pale faces Joined in "I her childish sports. She recollected a llt'.le brook which flowed by her childi.I hold's homo, and how her playmates sent upon the limpid waves their tiny boats. She had spiritual breathings of those, and her awakcuing soul told her '-she WAS not of those who surrounded her. She looked into the placid bosom of the Wabash, and there was reflected a faoe not of the oolor of her Indian sisters or brothers. These, all conspiring, made her Incline a willing ear to the rehearsal of Nemo's mission.

The old m»n looked at Len* and wept—tears only come to an Indian's eve, when the heart is overflowing.

My lather." said Lena, "has the Great Spirit refused to bear your pray«r T—Is the deer driven from the forest to be destroyed by the wolves has our earth refused to give ripeness to her fruits?—or whv those tears

My daughter," said the warrior— thy step is as light as the fawn's, and thy spirit as pure as the morning dewdrop, more than one hundred moons have waned since. I took thee to my wigwam. Then wss thy arm weak and thy step feeble. As a parent I have loved thee, ss a father I have protected theo from the tomahawk and scalping-

I was then the bravest in battle

knife. —the foremost In the chase My arm

was quick to bend the bow, my eye to seek the game. Now my arm is feeble, my eyes dim with age. The war-whoop finds no echo in my heart, and the deer fear not my approach. In my old age, my fair hairvu, blue eyed child, I u.ust

£ther,

ye thee up. Ttou wilt go to another another home. I will never see thee more. The prairie grass will soon spring above iny grave, and the lullaby or the Wabash will sing my requiem. But my daughter will never forget her Indian father. In other days you will

Ml

nA|

)mi k«M

perfectly ^return, but I wlUnot be here. vou need ITr.. Return 1 Why doea my Cither Von will nevf^k of me leturning? said Lena —&esn not, moat not, will not leave

PIMPLES anOM' Eruption*, 8cr^Ue dost thou know wb*t arising from lmp«*y daughter," replied the chief, by Dr. Pierce's cover

•'lor by the first light that Illuminates the eastern sky, thou wilt be taken from me." ••Taken from thee, and lor what?" asked Lena.

For being what thou art,a pale free," answered the chief. "A pale fSoe—because my hair la lighter than my sisters', and my faoe not so dark—is that why I must leave thee

It is. Thou art not a Delaware. To the east, where the sun rises, lives thy people. Close by where the roar of the mighty waters always hymn the praise of the'Great Spirit, are the wigwams of thy fathers. Many summers ago I snatched thee from the burning wigwam of thy mother, and made thee my child."

And am I not thy child yet I have no father but thee, uo home b*t this," said Lena. "My child," said the aged chief, "waste not words, the moments fly,the grey light Is almost ready to burst forth in the east—the wolf will soon return to bis den, the owl to the deeper forest—take what is thine and be ready to follow the young Shawnee."

Moru's rose blushes lighted up the eastery sky, and ere the dewdrops were dried on the prairie grass, Nemo and the pale face captive had taken leave and were on their way towards the rising sun. They crossed the prairie at a diverging angle, and Nemo with bis charge stood again on the bluff which commands tho prairie below. As they traveled, at different points along their, path, the captives were brought, until ten of different age and sexes trailed in a straight line after him.

Along this silent path—through the dark lonely forest, at noon and night— the attentions of Nemo were assiduous towards Lena. He first admired, then respected, and at last loved her. How the brave Shawnee wooed and won the Anglo-American maiden, it is not necessary to state. But it the panther screamed. Nemo stood by the side of I/ma. If the storm roared, he sheltered her beneath his deer skin. If the -night was cold, he threw his robe over her. If the wolf growled or gnashod his teeth around their camp fires, he stood in front of her, placed an arrow in his bow, and sent it through the intruder's 'leart.

At last the Spring came, the captives had reached their place of destination* The Djlaware, the Shawnee and Seneca Chiefs were assembled. Bouquet and his men were there and the pale face captives were handed over to the whites. Nemo determined not to lose his fair haired betrothed, and Lena loved the young ^Shawnee more than the recollection of her early home. She was just ripening into womanhoodshe loved tho forest—her Indian home which she had left behind, and felt In her heart of hearts, a warm, burning admiration for Nemo. She was taken, with the rest of the captives, to the State of Pennsylvania and there, along the banks of the Susquehanna, where was once her home, she was given to her relations. Her mother and fnhor slept beneath the clods of the valley. Some, who xaiii they were her brothers and sisters welcomed ber back to civilization. She know then not, her heart was with her Indian lover, and her Indian brothers and sisters. They placed beforo her the choicest viands, but they Were unpalatable. They essayed to charm her by the rich melody of music, but slio loved more the whisperings of Nature sighing? through the forest and roaring in the storm. They taught her christian precepts, but she preferred the Indian's christian example—they told her ol the triune God, but how could an untutorqd mind comprehend a mystery so profound. She worshipped tho Great Spirit, as she saw Him in tho clouds and heard Him in the winds." Lena was unhappy—often a tear would glisten in her eye as she would press a beautifully wrcught gift of Nemo's to her lips.

Tins, between hope and despair, passed many months. The forest was again tinged with autumnal hues. The hazy stillness of Indian Summer vailed tho mountains and the valleys—Nature was keeping her Sabbath, and the summer sun was receding behind the gauze of autumn, when, in the distance, was seen the tall plume of an Indian warrior. Alarm seized every heart, and fear sat upon every brow. The warrior came on apace—his form was symmetrical and manlv. Over his shoulders hung a quiver filled with arrows—his step was proud and defiant—Lena looked fiom the window—a thrill passed through her heart—the warriorcamo on —'twas Nemo—she rushed to tho closed door—tho bar was thrown down, and with ono bound she throw herself into the embrace of her Indian lover. Heart boat to heart, and they wero one.

Tbo Shawnee warrior had come to claim his fair haired afll.iuced. The laws Pennsylvania prohibited the marriage of Indians to whites, but it could not prevent their loving. The statute gave freedom to females over eighteen vears of age, under that law, she could'go and return at her pleasure. Nemo asked Lona to go back with hiiu to her Wabash home, sho consented the law was resorted to to prevent her, but the law was powerless, she dona with a woman's love to her plighted troth, and while her pale faced brothers slept, she, by the side ot her Indian lover, dashed into the dark fores', and taking the Indian trail, and with the Indian knowledge, struck for the west. No hound or horse, no man or beast, could hope to overtake theiii. Love gave impetus to their flight, and limbs used to the mountain track and the valley's path, carried them forward. When beyond all civilisation—when the deer "became tame, aAd the p«niher and the bear only lea the pathway to let the lovers pass. In this universal solitude, where nature, fresh from the hand of the Creator, was sll around them, these, nature's children, without the forms ol law, and governed by no earthly statute, were married. They swore eternal faith and fidelity, and became one. The young fawn from the impending thicket, witnessed the scene and bounded away—the eagle from his evrie screamed a blessing from above, an& th» Great Spirit, with bis omnipotent eye, looked down and approved the happy union. There, surrounded by nature's glorious image, and not by art's gaudy trappings, were Nemo and Lena forever wedded.

Over the mountains, along the valleys, across the rivers, and up the precipice, led their undeviating way. True ws the ueedle to the pole, waa Nemo's knowledge of the woods. Silent, even as lovers, they traveled the v»« forest, which separated the Wabash from the Susquehanna.

Nothing occurred to mar the even tenor of their journey, until tbey were passing about the line *h'c** J50!T divides the State of Ohio from U»e State of Indiana. Some signs of foot-prims had been seen all day—here, the decayed leaves were pressed as tbovgh a human toot had been upon them—there a twig was broken off, and sHgh1 openings msde in the bushes higher than the head of the deer would be seen in different places, and at last, a piece of old moooMtn wta found In IM Nemo picked it op, examined 1t attentively, looked at the way the Porcupine

quills were woven in it, and in a half audible voice, whispered into the anxious ear of Lena—Miami's! Silently and oantiensly they kepi the trail. The Miamis and Shawnees were mortsl enemies. Onward they kepi their oourse to the setting sun, ontil ooming to a dense growth er oaks, of a sudden —qnick aa the bounding of the mountain cat, three Miami warriors rushed upon them. Nemo leaped to a tree, and one of the warriors caught Lena and oonimenoed tying ber hands. Nemo's arrow was in bis bow—the Miami shielded himself behind the trembling captive, keeping Lena's head between Nemo and his breast. Twang, sounded Nemo's bow, and a trusty arrow, shaving a ringlet from the captive's temple, tremblea in the heart of the audacious Miami. The tree saved Nemo from bis other foes. Another warrior sprang to the captive and endevored to carry ner off. Like the tiger from his lair. Nemo bounded on him and buried bis tomahawk deep in his skull. Now there remained oiiQ more Miami, oneShawnee. Lena stood paralyzed with fear. Nemo's arrow missed—the Miami's passed through his scalp lock. Each warrior drew his tomahawk, and they whistled in the air. Then face to face, and steel to steel, they advanced to meet in deadly (*inbat. Nemo lought for love and life. The bra\e Miami fought for hate of the Shawnee. Each warrior eyed the other, as does the

8feme's

anther before be makes his spring. knife first tasted the Miami's blood. The combat was almost an equal one. Two stalwart braves determined to conquer or die. In an unguarded moment, the Miami felt a sharp pang tremble through his whole frame. Nemo's knife had found way to his beart, and he was dead.

There lay the three Miami braves, all sent into the spirit world by the young Shawnee. Their scalp locks were secured as a trophy, and the warrior and his bride continued their journey.

Many times the sun gilded the west before they reached what is now called Fort Harrison prairie. The leaves had fallen frdm the trees, the frost had come, and winter spread her mantle of snow over every surrounding object. In this season of the year, Nemo again stood upon the blufl which overlooks the prairie. Desolation, dreary and solemn, was before him. Still as -the chamber of death were thesombre forest, ami the undulating prairie. Where the city of Terre-IIaute now stands, was then covered with large elms and oak trees. The line of the prairie followed near where now runs the Wabash and Erie canal on the east—east of that, Lost Creek sluggishly wended its way through many miles of marshy grouDd, and the prospect was much changed irom the time Nemo first beheld this picturesque region. Lena, eager to see her Indian home, looked to the high knoll of ground, which overlooks the Wabash, near where the railroad bridge crosses the river. There was no smoke curling from the wigwam. They crossed the prairie coming to the "high ground" close by the Teri e-Haute House, and passing rapidly along until they came to the cleared spot now known as the "Old Indian Orchard," There was no watch-dog to bay Nemo off ns heretofore—no merry laugh ot children to welcome Lena's

retlirn_no

Indian father to receive her

with open arms. One of those intestine feuds that is so terrible among the savage tribes, had swept away the old Chief and his entire family. No sign of life was there—a few chared bones and smouldering ruins were all that remained of Lena's once happy home. It was a dreary prospect lor the young worrior and the young husband—but an Indian is never discouraged. His trust is too high, too profound. He knows the earth will yield her fruits, that the showers will come and he is too thankful to despond/

The tomahawk supplied thetn with polo«, and planting ten in the ground at equal distances, in aciicle whose diameter was twelve feet, by a strong wiiho the tops were brought almost together, thus forming in approved Indian style the frame work of a primitive wigwam. Bark from the forest was procured and fastened on all sides of th^se poles,

making

a comfortable room

against the bleak winds which swept across the prairie. The fire was built, and the smoke curled out the aperture at the top. This being done, Nemo took his bow and arrows and went in pursuit of game. Each night he returned with skins and choica bits from the de r, the bear and tho elk. Tho skins were used by L«na in lining the inside of the wigwam, and spreading on the level earth formed a couch. Soon all through this Indian wigwam, hanging in rich festoons, wherever a pole could be placed or a peg fastened, were strips of ierked venison and other wild meats. There was plenty in the wigwam, and love and content in each lioart.

Thus passed away tho winter, and when March came, soon the rough cry of the wild goose was heard coming up from tho sunny South—the quack of the duck echoed along the river. Tue Wabash rose and shook the ice from its bosom. The blue bird, first messenger of Spring, sang its main song—the black bird chirped—the ml breast begged a crumb from the door. One by one the birds came out on the trees, the wild bowers sprung spontaneous from the earth—the woods wero robed in their mautle of green, and Spflng in all her freshness and beauty was there. The home of

Lena

was her study. She

gathered wild flowers and turned them Tn beautiful wreaths on either side of the door. She served the evening repast under an arbor of budding branches, and made her home, what an Indian's home always Is—one of peace, more desirable than the greatest riches —one of contentiqent, more to be valued than rubies and floe gold—ene ol virtue, the brightest jewel of a woman's heart.

Here upon this knoll ot ground which so beautifully overlooks what is now called Gordon's Bend, more than 75 years ago, stood this Indian wigwam. At night the scream of the panther and the howl of the wolr, was all that broke the universal stillness. In the day time, excepting when the storm thundered and the wild birds sang, it was silent. No sound of busy life started nature from ber repose. Every thing grew, to perfection, but it grew in silence. Nature was true to her children, snd Nemo and Lena were happy. Their light canoe danced, "like a thing of life" over the rippling waters, and the finny tribe afforded them a bountiful repast. They had abundance—nature requires but little. They asked for no luxuries, for nature requires none. No gossip, slander or falsehoods chilled •their hearts. They lived as the Great Spirit taught them. Disease and pain were alrangers to them. Violating no law of their being they did not have to pay the penalty. Tbey lived and loved and were happy. Oh! what a rural Paradise was this. Nature's offsprings gambolling upon the green turf--sport-tng in the bright sunshine End breathing the pare air—plucking the rich frails- gathering the ripe nuU, sad killing the fat game.

Lena in her flight from her pale

ftuM home, -had gathered a few apple seed, which she still had with her, and which, as the Spring opened she planted around her wigwam. Soon tbey sprouted from the ground, snd thus began the "Indian Orchard" which for so many years haa shade this knoll, snd the remains of which are still to be seen. A boy, bright eyed and fair, possessing his mother's tenderness, his nther's heroism, had blessed their union. Not so swsrthy as his father, nor so pale tecs in his mother—he wss neither, snd yet both. His baby tongue had not yet learned to lisp his mother's name, nor his bov eyes to know his father's coming. He nestled in his mother's bosom, as a young eaglet nestles under the wing of its parent. She dressed his tiny limbs in guady painted deer skins, snd fixed little plumes from the wing of the red bird on bis infantile bead. She wreathed festoons of wild flowers around his brow, and put bracelets, twined from autumnal leaves on his little arms. Lena possessed all that could give happiness to woman— the love of a noble heart, and the mother of a smiling boy.

Thus lived Nemo and Lena and their little boy, in this wild wood home. Spring and summer had come and passed—autumn was yet "lingering in the lapse of winter." A hazy atmosphere bung over the Wabash and covered the prairie. The sere and yellow leaf broke from its impending stemwhirled in the still air and fell to enrich the earth. The birds of passage winged tbeirwav.to the South. The song of the black bird had ceased and a still melancholy brooded over the extended landscape. The rays of the declining sun struggled through the dull, smoky air, and a soft echo fell upon the ear of Nemo. It at first was like the chirp of a bird, then the growl of a bird, then the gruwl of a wolf, and at last the scream of a panther. Nemo looked down the river and his quick eye. soon caught the feathery plumes of five painted warriors. Were they Shawnees or Miamis! whispered Nemo —were they friends or foes. Silently he watched, and stealthily they approached. Coming up the bank, crouching in Indian file, Nemo recognized them as the hated Miamis. He sprang lor his bow and arrows, his tomahawk and scalping knife. Lena concealed the babe

4and

Eat

stood ly the

door, protected by her husband. When within a proper distance, Nemo demanded wnv they came—they growled defiance and hurriedly came on. Quick as the lightning stroke, an arrow from Nemo's bow pierced the foremost intruder. A Shawnee never parleys with a Miami. The war whoop rang through the forest, and the" Miamis rushed to the contest. Nemo knew there was no quarter for him, and he asked for none. "He looked to river, forest, prairie and

lain, ne never should see again." Another arrow stilled the heart throbs of another Miami. But now they were upon him. Before Nemo was his hereditary foe, behind him his home, his wife and boy. No panther ever pressed by the hunters' hounds fought more desperately, more heroically. He shouted the defiant war song —sprung from his wigwam door and buried his tomahawk in the third Miami's brain. The two remaining sent their arrows into Nemo's breasr. He reeled, retreated to his wigwam door, and shaking defiance at his enemies, fell dving in the arms of Lena. The wife and mother tore the thirsty arrows from his bleeding breast, and with them, ebbed out his life. Here he lay, rigid in death—tho Miami warriors stood around. Lena, snatched her boy from bis cover, threw him into the arms of a Miami warrior—buried the scalping knife in her own heart, and fell, dving on the cold remains of Nemo. 'rhe infant smiled in the arms of the murderers of his heroic father, and his spotless mother. He fondled the eagle feathers which decorated their scalp-locks, and lisped his babv talk unto their wondering ears. Could they destroy this child Nature is every where. They thought of their rude Barbarians at home, playing around their own wigwam fires. Nature is every where—whether it bo in the blood stained vulture as it "cleaves the storm"—whether in lhe ti*er a% it guards its whelps—whether in tho savage as he stands amid blood and carnage, there is a cord which when touched to action, vibrates always for the right.

They resolved to spare the child, and Nemo and Lena were buried si»Je by side on the top of this knoll. Their once happy home was pillaged and destroyed,'and in *ftcr times naught was left to mark the spot, but a tew scattering apple trees that had been planted by *na's hands, and which were bearing fruit, when the first white men visited this spot.

The child was taken care of by the Miamis. Ho was adopted as one of tho tribe, and when he ripened into manhood, while ho had the costumes and language of tho Miamis, still in his soul was the tire and bravery of the Shawnees. He grew unto manhood, and learning his origin, went to the homes ol the Shawnees and joined that tribe. Identifying his fortune with tho*e who fought against the encroachments of the whites, he soon found himself a boon companion of the heroic Tecumse^. He was with that noble savage when he treated with Gen. Harrison—resisted the gallant charge of Col. Jo. Davis at Tippecanoe, and tell all covered with wounds, when fell Tecumseh at the battle of the Thames.

The grave Qf the two lovers was long an object of veneration by the Indians, and in their legends tbey thought that the spirits of the departed kopt vigils around this resting place. As the war parties in their canoes would pass this spot, a finger would be placed upon their lips—the paddles unmoved, and silence, complete and profound would be observed by every ope. If perchance the canoe touched the shore, tho older and bravest of the warriors of thn party, would approach the grave. irinkle ashes of the tobacco around

lu9

mound, puff a few whiffs, and as the smoke arose and floated on the still air, they would chant a tnys.ical song to the Great Spirit.

For many long years, when the young Shawnee maidens passed along this prairie, tbey would stop at the Orchard, and If the fruit hnng ripe on the treos, they would refrain from touching an apple, but left thein for the spirits that hovered near. The most fragrant wild flowers were strewn over the graves, and choice pieces of buffalo meat, placed in little wooden urns, left to appease the spiritual essence of the departed. They would take a bird of the richest plumage—place around itsneok a tiny wampumstringndhile encircling the sacred spot, let it go, and as it ascended up and up, until it was lest to sight in the blue distance, a weird chant, half andible and half suppressed, won Id be given, to help the winged messenger to carry the Indian's blessing to the spirit world.

Thns the "Indian Orchard" became concecrated place to the red man, and thus, did the men snd maidens of the forest pay homage to heroism, to fidelity ana virtue.

Most of oar renders hsve, doubtless, read the lines written on the burial of Sir John Moore, and have been deeply impressed with their pathos and solemnity but the following lines, composed upon sn equally solemn occasion, will be new and, as they contain a very fine moral, we have much pleasure in submitting them for perusal:

THE BRIDAL..

Not a laugh was heard, nor a Joyoua note, As our friend to the bridal we nuriled: Not a wit discbart ed his farewelfahot,

As the bachelor went to be married.

We married him quietly to save his fright, Our beads lrom the sad sight turning And we sighed as we stood by the lamp's dim light,

To think he was not more discerning. Few and short were the words that we said, ThouRb of wine and cake partaking We escorted him home from the sctne of dread,

While his knees were awfully shaking.

Slowly and sadly we marched him down From the first to the lowermost story And we never have heard or seen the poor man

Whom we leit alone in his g«ory.

STARTLING DISCOVERY.—At the present time when so many persons are in the habit of holding communion, through the means of spiritualistic mediums, with former friends who have gone to that bourne from whence no traveler is supposed to return, it would be well if some corroborative evidence could be obtained as to the truth of the following startling discovery:

During the sitting of a court in Connecticut, not long ago, on a very cold evening,a crowd of lawyers had collected around the fire that blazed cheerfully on the hearth In the bar-room, when a traveler entered, benumbed with cold, but no one moved to give him room to warm his shins, so he leaned back airainst the wall in the back part of the room.

Presently, a smart youm? limb of the law addressed him, when the following dialogue took place:

Yon look like a traveler Wall, I suppose I am I came all the way from Wisconsin a-foot, at any rftto

From Wisconsin What a distance to come on one pair of legs J" Wall, I done It, anyhow."

Did you ever pass through hell in any of your travels?" "Yes, sir I've passed through the outskirts." "1 thought likely. Well, what are the manners and customs there? Some of us would like to know." "Oh! you'll find them much the same as In this place—lawyers sit nearest the fire

A minister asked a tipsy fellow leaning up against a fence where he expected to go when he died. "II I can't get along any better than I do now," he said, "I shan't go anywhere."

Two farmers in Kansas recently had a law suit about seven pounds of butter. When the jury retired they took with them the butter, procured some crackers, ate them together, and returned a verdict of "No cause for action."

Two men employed at ono of our, stove stores wore engaged in putting up a stove for a lady. Durirg a heavy lilt ono of them told the other to "spit on his bands," when both wore repulsed bv the lady hastily exclaiming, "O, don't do that here's a spittoon

A benevolent editor congratulating a young lady friend upon her recent marriage, hop.-.d that all her troubles would be little ones, and that they might not come singly but in battalione. What does the husband think of that editor

As four or five darkies were passing an agricultural implement store down South, 0114 of them, pointing to a cultivator, said—"A man can jist sit on dat thing and ride while, he's ploughing." "Golly," replied the other, "de rascals was too sharp to link of dat 'fore de nigger was free."

At Omaha a few days ago, a red flag was placed in front of house used tor tho reception of smallpox patients A large crowd was attracted by it, who besieged the front door and wondered when "the auction was going to begin." When informed of the real state of the case they scattered "in double quick."

Two .hunchbacks celebrated thoir nuptials in Paris the oth'r day, in the presence of thirty invited guests, also hunchback*. At the weddlrg ball all tho musicians were hunchbacks, as was every dancer. Dibbs says that must have been a pleasant party for a quarrelsome man. as so many had "got their backs up."

A wretch broke off an" engagement for the following cogent reason "You know a case is a fearful nuisance, and I always carry my cigars loose In my vest pocket. The necessary amount of affection toward Molly was awful rough on 'ein. Never came away from that house but every one ol 'ein wu* smashed. Couldn't expect a follow to waste good tobacco that way, coald you

A vacancy having occurred In a certain church hy remonof the resignation of the organist, the trustees advertised for a candidate for organist, music teacher, etc. Among the numerous replies to the sdvertisement was the following peculiar announcement: "Gentlemen—I notice yonr advertisement fyr organist and music teacher, either lady or gentleman. Having been both for some years, I offer you my services."

A model obituary notice is thus given In an Arkansas paper of a recently deceaaed fellow-citizen Mrs. died In the spring of 1807, since which sad event Mr. 's footsteps have echoed down the corridors of time alone, waiting for the summons to cross the dark valley to the otbersbore which came at last, snd he went—life breathed out like the wafting of an evening breeze—happy to think be never bad a sick day in all bis life—our loss is his gain."

WON'T. RIDS AJ*T MORB.-A physician waa bored to death by a friend who always insisted upon riding with a doctor when be went to make calls upon patients. Eeculaplus bore the infliction as long as possible, when he resolved to rid himself of bis tormentor. One day bis friend rode with bim aa usual when tbey stopped at a patient's boose and the doctor went in. When be came out tbe friend enquired what the patient's ailment waa. The doctor replied "well Its pretty severe of smallpox, and I think be is dying. Not another word did hia friend speak, but with a leap he rid the dootor of his presence, and never asked to ride with him again.

G. Washington used to bay frugal lottery ticket now snd then. A

April is tho most propitious month in which to be married. An old saying is thst whether a man marries or not, ne is sure to regret it.

Every woman is in the wrong until she cries—and then she is in the right immediately^ "Smear me on the mouth," is the way in which a Cleveland swain asks his blushing swainess to kiss him.

The man who paid his deserted sweetheart a thousand dollars for breach of promise, called the money legal-tender notes.

This was found in a letter: "Dearest love: I have swallowed the postage stamp which was on your letter, because I knew your lips bad touched it."

The latest style of wedding tour is a tour round the world, which can now be accomplished in a few months^ and is something to boast of all tbe rest of their days. "Say, Janes, what's the matter with your eye "Oh, nothin' only my wife said this mornin' I'd better get up an' light the fire I told her to make it herself. That's all*"

A Louisville lady had her teeth extraced *o get even with ber husband for cropping ner daughter's hair. But she canH talk so much now, and he is happy in spite of her teeth.

A young couple who were lately married in West Newbury and set up housekeeping, were obliged to apply to the overseers of the poor at the end of two weeks for a supply of provisions.

An Indiana maiden, suing for breach of promise,has put in evidence, not only the letters of the faithless one, but also ber own, to show the depth of ruiued affection w*-.

A country editor's sold editorial in one week's issue of his paper was to the effect that if anything will make a a man feel juicy about the heart, it is to talk velvet to a pair of sky-colored eyes, by moonlight in a clover-field,

A man courting a young woman was interrogated as to his occupation. "I am a paper hanger on a large scale," he replied. He was accepted as a suitor, and ufter marriage it was foundf that he was a bill-sticker.

A pair of Illinois lovers wanted to be married, but their parents wouldn't agree to it, and as they had no funds of their own, sympathizing friends gavo an entertainment for their benefit, from which they realized ?5, and with this magnificent sum in their possession they eloped.

When you soe two young persons seated in the centre of a pew in church, you can make up your mind that they are engaged or are going to be but when one Is at one enu and the other at the foot of the pew, you oan Immediately determine that tbey are not married.

A fellow lately started a store in Kansas. The following was the sign ho hung out: Dry goods,by John Smith, who wishes to get married." This sign drew all kinds of custom. The single ladies went, of course, and the married men all told their wives to go, under the Impression that tlicy could easily cheat so great a fool!

,f

'v*

A voung woman delegate in the recent "Ohio convention of woman suffrage, plumply said: "For my own

fectively,

iart, I love men, individually and colbetter than women and so, lam sure, does every one of m.v sex, if thev, like me, would utter their real sontiuient8. I am more anxious for man's elevation and improvement than woman's, and so is every true woman."

Mr. Janes," said a clergyman, on pastoral visit, "I don't soo yon and Mrs. Janes at church Sunday evenings." "Well, no," replied Mr. Jantfe "my wife bus to stay at home to tako care of tbe children, and it comes rather hard on her, I stay to keep her company." "Why, how is that? Don't you keep any servants y'cs, we keep two but they don't allow us uny privileges."

In Philadelphia they have a most judicious way of selling at tho restaurants small pasteboard boxes containing fried oysters, a sandwich and all other necessary constituents of a midnight supper. Theso nro habitually carried homo by nedick belated to unseasonable hours, unto Beatrice who hits "nursing her wrath to keep it f'arin," as a peace offering, a "sop to Cerebus." They aro appropriately denominated "candles."

A young lady, the other day, In tho the course o^ a lecture, said: "Get married, youn« man, anil be quick about it, too. Don't wait for tho millennium, hoping that tho girls will turn to angels before you will trust, yourself to one of them. A pretty thing you would bo alongside erf an angel, wouldn't you, you brute."

NEWS A SID NOT I N(IS.

Missouri will put "00,000 tons of Iron ore in the marker this yeur. Mason City, III., is so healthy that it offers its cemetery for sale.

Two absurd young men want to bo admitted to Vassar College because it is leap year.

A carpet-sewing machine has been invented wbicb runs along the floor and sews up carpets as fast as it can bo pushe.d.

Tbe Ions continued cold has set the earth shivering as with an ague flt. Earthquake shocks are reported in Nevada, Utah and Tennessee.

Joseph Newman went duck shooting on Breeze Dake, Illinois, last Sunday. He pulled the trigger at one duck, and It snapped. He blew into the muzzle. In a sccond Newman was the deadest man in Illinois.

It is seldom that a man shoots himself in splitting wood, but a Kentuckian accomplished the feat successfully, the other aay. by hittinu a pistol in his pocket with the ax-handle. Now there is one vacant chair In the cot where that Kentucklan wps born.

Paul Zimmerman, of Janesville,Wisconsin, invested all bis capital in the purchase of five thousand bushels of turnips, which froze on his hands and left bim psnnllessand turnlpless. Having lost bis money and turnips and not having faith and patience to wait for something to turn up, Paul borrowed a rope and hanged himself.»

A boy in Rockport, 111., who has Just oome into possession of bis first shot gun, amused himself by banging away at his father, who was greaai-g harness on the wood pile. The old gentleman let bim practice a few minutes, and then fanned the youngster with one of the tugs until he concluded to go out of tbe Scbutzenfest business. Some its never can let a boy nave any