} |
“YARILTIGS.
= AN INDIAN COUNCIL. ot bioined stirring sketch is from 5 . : » Judge Hale titled work by Judge ale, entitie
“6 The Wilderness and the War Path,” and iadescriptive of the coolness and pre- sence? nind of Col. George Roger viark, at acamncil at North Bend,
« Ao Lodian Council is one of the most >
a new
impsity Spectacles in savage life.
one of the few occasions in which the |
warrior exercises his right of suffrage, his influence, and Ins tatents, in a evil camelty¥, and the meeting Is conducted withall the gravity, and all the ceremo- pious OStentation, with Which if 1s posst- bie to invest it, Tne matter to be cons! dered, 23 wel] as all the details, are wel] digested beforehand, so that decorum
must prevail, and the decision be nnmini- |
The’ old sages-~the leaders and orators—occupy the most conspicuous seats; behind them are arranged the younger’ braves, and still further in the year appear the women and the youth as gpectaters, Allare equally attentive.—
mous.
A dead silence reigns throughout the as- | semblage, The great pipe, gaudily ad- | orned with paint and feathers, is Jighted, |
and passed trem mouth to mouth, con- mencing with the chief highest in rank, and proceeding by regular yradation to the in‘erior order of braves, iftwo or three nations be represented, the pine is pass- ed from one party to the other, and
salutations and courtesy exchanged, be- |
fore the business of the council is open- eiby the respective speakers. Whuat- ever jealousy or party Spirit may exist in the tribe, it is carefully excluded from this dignified assemblage. whose orderly conduct, and close atfention to the pro- per subject before then might be imita- ted with profit by some of the most en- lightened bodies in Christendom.
It was an alarming evidence of the tenner now prevailing among them, and of the brooding storm that filled their winds, that no propriety of demeanor mirked the entranceof the savages into the council room. were forgotten, or pirposely dispensed with, an insulting levtv substituted in i's pace, The chiets ald braves stalked in with an appearance if light regard, and seated theinselyes pomiscuously on the floor, in froat of therommissioners. An air of insolence malked all their move- ments, and showedan intention to dic- tate terms or to fix ¢quarrel on the Am- ericans.
A dead silence reted over the group; itwis the silence d dread, distrust and watchfulness,—not pf respect. The eye of the savige band jloated upon the ban- quet of blood that semed already spread ont before them; Ue pillage of the fort and the bleeding calps of the Ameri- cins were almost within their @rasp— while that gallant Ile band saw the por- tentous nature of Up erigis and stood rea- dy to sell their livelas dearly as possible.
The comnissionrs, without noticing the disorderly condet of the other party, or appearing to hay discovered their me- ditated treachery, pened the council in due form. They lthted the peace-pipe, and after drawing stew whiffs. passed to
the chiefs, Who reaived it. Col. Clarke then rose to explairthe purpose for which the treaty was ordeed, With an unem- barrassed Air, the tae of one accustomed toconmand, and te easy assurance of Perfect security ar self-possession, he Btated that the Coymissioners had been Bent to offer peace p the Shawnees, and tht the President had no wish to con- tinne the war-—he lad no resentment to Eratify, and if the ral men desired peace, vy _ have ita liberal terms. © If eg ve.the willoithe Shawnees,” he
"ed, “let sone of the wise men spenk ” to oe Ne ny daw np his tall person on Wttiveda ee ant assuming a haugh- Siding she me eyes contemptuons- hoe age roeme and their small ficanre, a des Ommsure their insigni- merous train ced with his an o8- ilies ieee aa then stalking to the
: Nit two be'ts of wam-
ee, ~— colors—the war and
_ “We come here” offer von two piecng are of different coly : vou know what onal YOu CAN take which you like.” a, upon h | heel, he resumed The chiefs*drow theselves upin the corsciousness of having hurled defiance in the teeth of the white nen, They had off red atinsn!: to the re wed ote fthe “f hich they knew & submit, while ' ould dure re-
“Mipe was laid aside. zed intently at
)
he exclaimed, “to of wamoum;: they
UU
It is |
The usual formalities
| commissioner. He sat undisturbed and
| apparently care ' had thrown the
if playfully, towards the war-belt, entan- _gled the end of the stick in it, drew it to- wards him, and then with @ twitch of the cane, threw the beltin the midst of the The effect was electrical. Eve- sprang
chiets. ‘ry man in council, of each party, savages with a loud ex- | clamation of astonishment, “ Ugh /’—the Americans in expectation of a hopeless lict against overwhelming numbers ; every hand had grasped a weapon— Clarke alone was unawed., ‘The hue of his countenance changed to a ferocious sternness, and his eye flashed, but other- wise he was unmoved. A bitter smile was slightly perceptible upon his com- pressed lips, as he gazed upon the savage | band whose hundred eyes were bent | Gercely upon him, as they stood like a | pack ‘of wolves at bay, thirsting for bload, and reacy to rush upon him when- | ever one bolder than the rest should com-
mence the attack.
to his feet—the
|
i cout
| the slightest weight turns either scale—a | moment in whick a bold man, conversant ‘with the secret springs of human actions, | may.seize upon the minds of all him ‘und sway them aths will, Sucha man was the intrepid Virginian. He | spoke. and there was no man bold enough to gainsay him—none that could return the fierce glance of his eye. Raising his arm, and waving his hand towards the door, he exclaimed ; Y
* Dogs, you may go.
POPPING THE QUESTION.
There is nothing more appalling to a modest and sensitive young man, than | asking the girl he loves to marry him, and there are few who do not find their moral courage tasked to the utmost.
Many a man who would lead a forlorn hope. mount a breech, and “seek the bubble reputation even at the cannon’s morth,” trembles at asking a woman the | question which is to decide his fate for ‘ever. Ladies may congratulate them- | selves that nature and custom have made them the responding party.
In a matter which men have always found so terrible, yet which, in one way or other, they have always contrived in some awkward way to accomplish. it 1s | not easy to give instructions suitable to every emergency.
A man naturally conforms tothe dis-
she be serious, he will approach the awful subject with due solemnity—if gay and Jivelv, he will try to make itan ex- cellent joke—if softly sentimental, he must woo her ina strain of high wrought romance, and if severely practical, he relies upon straight forward common sense.
‘There is no maxim of universal appli- Never lose an opportunity.
! } | ention. | What can a woman think of a lover who ‘neglects one 2 Women can not make | direct advances, but they use infinite tact |in giving imen occasion to make them. | In every case it is fair to presume that | when a woman gives a man an opportu- nity, she expects him to improve it; and though he may tremble and feel bis pulse throbbing throngh every limb, though his heart fills up his throat, and his tongue cleaves tothe roof of his mouth, yet the awful question must be asked—the fearful task accomplished.
jn the country, the lover is taking a romantic walk by moonlight, with the lady of his love—talks of the beanties of the scenery, the harmony of nature, and exclaims— :
“Ah! Julia, how py wonld exis- tence prove if | always Bad such a com- panion.”
She sighs, and leans tore fondly on
the arm that tremblingly | * My dearest Julia, be This isa settler, and the ans
so invndible, makes or undoes himeqm
“Take pity on a forlorn bachelor,” says another ina manner which may be jest or earnest—* Marry me at once and put me out of misery.”
* With all my heart, whenever you are ready,” replies the langhing fair. A jake | carried thus far is easily made earnest.
A point is often carried by taking a thing for granted, A gentleman who has been paying attention to a lady, says—
“What, Marv, when is the happy dey °”
“ What day, pray ?” she asks with a conscious blush.
“ Why, everybody knows we are going to get married, and it might as well be one time asthe other;so then it shall be >"
Cornered ‘in this fashion, there is. no retreat.
“Jane, I love you? Will you marry
e P™would at abrupt, anc . ™ ee Fides
ss eer 7 a “Yes, ™ “Ty be an answer.
etn li, tt
cy
YO
LD |
less, until the chief who | belts upon the table had | ‘taken his seat; then, with a small cane |
which he held in his hand, he reached as |
‘unless she happens to prefer a word of
cording to the circumstances and various | dispositions.
It was one of those | thrilling moments of uncertainty when |
around |
r . >is | position of the woman he admires. If | Sfancy.
lily, fresh as May dew, rosy as the rose
FRAMING,
2
« Ellen, one word from you would make | me the happiest man in the universe.”
“| should be cruel not to speak it then, unless it is a very hard one.”
“{t is a word of three letters, ant
9
} m answer the question—Will you have me?" |
. y ’
The lady, of course. answers “ Yes,” |
only two letters, and anwers, “ No.” °
And so it is an interesting and terrible | process, in practice is simple as it is in | theory, is varied ina hundred ways ac-
‘be timid gentleman asks: “ Have you any objections to change Four name ?” and foliows this up with another which clenches its significance, “how will mine suit you 7”
Another says; “ Will you tell me what | { most wish to know 7”
“ Yes, if | can.”
“The happy day when we shall be married.”
Another says: “Eliza, we must do what al] the world evidently expects we shall.”
“ All the world is very impertinent.”
“[ know it—but it can’t be helped. When shall I tell the parson to be | ready °”
As a general thing, a man need never be refused. Every woman, except a | heartless coquette, finds the means of dis- | couraging a man whom she does pot in- | tend to have, before the matter comes to | a point of declaration.
} }
MAKING LOVE TO THE WRONG | PERSON.
A Cincinnati paper is responsible for the folloaving :—
A young gentleman who had been pay- ing his addresses in propria persona to a young lady in this city, left a few months ago and went down the river on business. A correspondence was iminediately open- ed between the enamored pair, and after exchanging several letters, the young lady was mortified to find that her letters were unanswered, and consequently she | ceased writing. Butthe real secret of | her not receiving letters, was the fact | that another young lady of the same name, | supposing they were intended for her, | took them from the post office and open- | ed a correspondence with her proxy lover. | Some two months passed away, when thie | young man wound up by a direct and in- sisted on an immediate answer, averring | at the same time thathe thought the tone | of her letters very different from those | received when they first left Cincinnati, | and upbraided his fair love with incon. | This last epistle was too much for our romantic incognito, and con- science smiiten for the part she had been acting, and fully persuaded that some other Jady had been pining for the man she was wooing, sought her out and de- livered up the letters to their rightful owner. The matter was speedily arrang- ed, and the rea) lovers have since become united in the bands of wedlock,
THE FARMER’S DAUGHTER.
There’s a world of buxom beauty flour- ishing in the shades of the country.— | Farm-houses are dangerous places. As | vou are thinking only of sheep or of | curds, you may be shot through by a pair of bright eyes, and melted away ina be- witching smile that you never dreamt of | till the mischief was done. In towns and theatres, and thronged assemblies of the |
rich and titled fair, you are on your. guard; you know what you are exposed | to, and put on your breastplate, and pass | through the most deadly onslaught of beauty safe andsonnd. But in those sy!- van retreats, dreaming of nightingales, and hearing only the lowing of oxen, you are taken by surprise. Out steps a fair creature~--crosses a glade—leaps a stile, | You start—you stand Jost in wonder and | astonished admiration! You take ont your | tablets to write a sonnet on the return of the Nymphs and Dryads to earth, when up | comes John Tompkins, and says, “It’s | only the farmers daughter.” What! |
{have farmers such daughters now-a-days! |
Yes, | telhyon they have such daygbters, | Those farm-houses are dangefous places. Let no man with a poetical imagination which is only another word for a very ten. der heart, flatter himself with fancies of the calin of the country; with the serene idea of sitting with the farmer in his old fash- ioned chimney corner, anc hearing him talk of corn and mutton; of joining him in the | pensive pleasure ofa pipe anda jug of brown October; oflistening to the gos- sip of the comfortable farmer’s wife, of the parson and his family, of his sermons and is pig; over a fragrant cup of young hyson, or rapt. in the delicious Juxuries of custard or whipped creams, In walks a fairy vision of wondrous witchery, and with a curtesy and asmile of winning and mysterious magic, takes her seat just opposite. IJtis the farmer’s daughter, a living creature of eighteen; fair as the
aes =, 4
appt? a 9 2 : & | ee a Vv a Ne eee , > ee aad wey
#
4
modest as early morn,
fair.
‘temptation, and
| cheek;
: a
and amiable as f Desdemona or
wn imagination 0 Lertrade of Wyoming. You are jlost.— It’s all over with you. I wouldn — an empty filbert, or a frog en @ oy berry, for your peace of mind, ift peer: tering creature’ be not as pitifir as s _ And that comes of going into the country out of the way of vanity and fancying farm-houses ces of old establish-
wshioned pla nice old-fashioned p : ed contentment.—* The Hall and Ham-
let,” by William Howitt.
THER HOPKINS AND THE "a DOCTOR.
Mother Hopkins hobbled into the sur-
foul weather on her face. Her compressed 5 there was a red the middle of each sallow
gery, with lips were ¢ angry spof 11 and anger ¢ black eye, like a spark ina tinderbox.—- She spoke harshly and abruptly. c
«Tm come to return the bottles.”
“ Very good,” said my father, receiving phial after phial from the cankered wo- man, with so much courtesy and humility as if he had been honoured and obliged by hercustom. “IJ hope the medicine has done you good. How 1s your lame-
| ness >”
« Ag bad as ever.”
“Tam sorry to hear it,” said my father. «But your complaint is chronic, and re- quires time for its treatment. By and by
i ” we shall see an amendment.
“ We shall see no such thing,” said the shrew: “I arnt going to take any more
| physic.”
“No?” “No. [ts good for nothing, or you
| wouldn’t give it away gratis.”
My father’s face flushed slightly—as whose would not, with so much physic thrown into it, though but metaphorically —all the drauglits and embrocations he had supplied her with for the last six months ?
“That’s all the bottles’ she said; “and there,” throwing a paper bag on the counter, “there’s the corks.”
“ Pshaw !” said he to himself, “I amas unreasonable as the old woman! Poor
creatures, that have hardly daily bread
enough to justify a thanksgiving ; and to expect from thema grace before and afier physic! To be sure they might be more civil; and yet poor, ragged, infirm disap- pointed in life, and diseosed, what worldly sugar have they in their cup to sweeten their dispositions ? What cream of com- fort, or soothing syrup, to make them mild, affable, and good humoured? And besides, what do they meet with them-
| selves from society at large but practical
rudeness? Scorned and shunned, be- cause penniless and shabby; oppressed, snubbed, and wronged, because weak and powerless; neglected and insulted because old and ugly ; and unceremon- jously packed off at last as no longer ornamental, useful or profitable, to that human Jumber-hole, the work house ! Accustomed to endure poverty without pity, age without reverence, want without succour, pain without sympathy, what wonder if their minds get warped with
‘their frames, and as sensitive to slights
and affronts as their bodies to damps and
' cold winds—if their judgments become
as harsh as their voices, or if their tempers sharpen with their features ? What wonder if their prejudices stiffen with their limbs, their whims increase with their wrinkles, their repinings with
| their infirmities ? nay, if their very hearts harden with their fates, or their patience | fail utterly under the tedious suffering of some chronic disease, which Art can |
only paltliate, whilst Hope, perhaps, promised a cure? No, no! we must not expect too much from human nature
under such trials and so many privations.
—Thomas Hood.
_ Tre Eprrormc Sanctum.—Mean- time Sir Harrowby Trumps produced a pocket-book, which he opened, and from which he took several cheques. “ Put in a paragraph in your next number, saying you have been mistaken; three words wil! do, and take this cheque for—” he whis- pered the amount. Mr. Spifiler made an
facer motion, implying that his wished
for information upon the whispered point and O’Keene, having managed for a moment to elude Trumps’ attention, held up five fingers, and then formed two circles inthe air with the feather end of a pen. “ Well,” seid Sir Harrowby, “come+what d’ye say =” O’Keene threw a doubtful glance over his visitor’s shoulder, towards his principal, but there was no guiding information in the puzzled and downeast looks of Mr. Spiffler. He, therefore, glanced first at the cheque and then at Trumps, and muttered some in- telligible words to himself. The baronet
appeared to be fully prepared for this
hesitation, and to have a prompt remedy at hand. Withotit more ado he drew back thé preciqus slip of coloured | which lay upon the desk and qui
immereé in her dark | Clee ae the cheque in his hand, gazed with spark-
‘to the pantomine question of Spiffler, by
raising one finger and drawing three airy circles with the pen. This information appeared at once to decide Mr. Spiffler, though not in the way in which O’Keene fully expected it would operate, The editor shook his head decidedly, and sig- nificantly pointed at Trumps and then to the door, accompanying the motion with those violent contortions of the mouth, by which a man tries to speak visibly instead of audibly, so that O’Keene guessed rightly that his principal had decided against taking any bribe whatever, and wished the conference to be put an end to as soon as possible, All this time Trumps had looked discreetly into the direction of the window, so as to allow his companion to debate the matter in his own mind, without Jet or hindrance, Con, while telegraphing to Spiffler, held
ling eyes upon every One of its golden letters, and rubbed it fondly between his fingers, as though the thin paper were a luscious velvet, pleasant and grateful to the touch. And this continued after he had fully comprehended Spifiler’s instruc- tions. Poor Con’s fingers seemed unable to unclasp themselves from the magic paper. What enjoyinent was there not comprehended in that little scrap of trans- muted rag!—Wwhat days of pleasure and nights of revelry! How the very soul of the poor fellow yearned and longed to grasp that morsel of paper, and bug it to his heart! But Fate and Mr. Spiffler had decreed otherwise. O’Keene made a violent effort, and flung the cheaue into Sir Harrowby’s lap. ** Tiere!” he shout- ed, “take back your dross, and don’t think to bribe me, or any honest man, from the discharge of his duty to his employers and to society."—£rom Clem- ent Lorimer.
Acre or TuE Purzic Orricers.—We gather from certam rumours current at the clubs that the government have laid down a rule, that no person above 50 years of age can be appointed to any vacant office. We shall be anxious to see whether this rule be carried out inall cases, and whether, when scions of the aristocracy are concerned, it will be in- variably acted on.—Sun.
A Jury surnep Joncrs.—A mag named Welsh has been convicted at New Orleans of murdering his wife. The verdict of the jury was, “ Guilty, without capital punishment.”--The reader
will be reminded of that other famous®
verdict, “ Not guilty if he will leave the town.”
A Frencn Newsrarer.—Few persons have any correct idea of sowe of the Euro- pean newspaper establishments, The Presse, a newspaper in Paris, has 70,000 subseribers. Jt has 20 editors, 25 clerks, 20 pressmen, and assistants, 60 porters, 24 folders, and 500 carriers.
eae ae anaes eennaaeesemanstl
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