Pioneer

              THE PIONEER.
Printed and Published b^ A. li. and U. K. iiro5V\, SoutU-NYesl corner o« the .Market ^t\uare.
VOL. III.
MARIETTA, PA. FRIDAY, APRIL. 3, 1829.
]VO. 47.
asis'S',
" Orient pearls at random strung.
The SAiveetbnar, Xo. \.
I'm sadly puzzled, now, to find a themo,
A theme unhackneyed, unuttcmpled yet By petty poetaster !   it may seem
Strange that  a warbling'  muse like mine should fret, "Who pours Jier numbers as the limpid stream
riows smoothly on ; but infinite regret Pervades the souls of the successful kw, *<iV!)o, loving' nature, draw her pictures true; And  having drawn, perceive their  labours vain.
Some silly tirade meets their practis'd eye, Sunj in a wild and fierce bombastic strain;
U.-est in the flowery trappings of a high Arid haughty host of iiiterjectionB ; plain
And easy comm«n language placed awry : Disgusted merit flaps her wings and flies With angry fleetness to her native skies-
Oh, Vanily ! thou art a charming creature ! Thou makest me appear in laurels flut¬ tering; My bantling muse admires thine cv'ry fea¬ ture, And practises thy dictates; often muttering Soft praise to thy seif.fjflorifyinj;^ nature
I.i accciiis wortiiy nf iiiee : never buttcing' Her b. iglit cfTusions with a gi ain of tliue. v— Vv'ho Can   wiihsUnd, oh   Piide,   thy deep- inouihed bailei) !
All men were doubtless, made for some great end, Or liale end—this suits our purpose best; Because the reader, likely, has some friend, AVho, with his trite productions, does mo¬ lest 'Hie feelings of his circle.    I would lend My pitying  aid  to soothe  his   troubled breast; As 'for my part, my lords,' I'm worried too, And cannot read a paper fairly through V'itiiout   being   sickened   by some  sickly rhyme, O" 'sickly sentiment.* whiche'er you choose. Of f jrcign demagogue, or foreign clime—
Dimestic tragedy, domestic muse. Or 'some such sort o' ih'mgj' all reason, time. Sense, swallowed up in senseless, stale re¬ views Of men and manners, shrubs and thorns and
nations— Upon my word it makes o;ie lose his patience'
But why not pass them over ? that's the thinir Which,   most   provoking, most   inflates my ire ; Iiow, thiy passed over, how should  Genius
bring Ilcr golden oirerings t j the flaming fire Where coin is tried;  and in her triumphliL)^- Riise lier own fame and lier own country's higher ? Dross should be spurned; the sollJi standard
bust Needs not the ornament of gilded dust.
These things, (not men) were made to teaze mankind. At least mankind are none the better of them . They are a heartless set of beings, blind In other's eyes, and  in  their own, above them ;
They think they stand on pinnacles refined, And nothing but the breath of scorn can move them from their high eminence, to their own no¬ tion, Unless, forsooth, there be a great commotion In the great literary world; which shall
Like a tremendous, headlong torrent rush, Sweep the great 'lions of the day,' and all
Tlie host of carping, envious critics brush (Such as themselves) into Oblivion's thrall! My darling vanity !  how I would blush Wast thou uot here to aid me, so construing Myself wiui others whilst 1 am reviewing
Oh, great illustrious sliude of Ariosto Inspire me iu my wayward lucubrations
Teach mc of poetry to make the most; oh, Teach me the art, when those great inun¬ dations
Of base harrangues appesir before me. Presto! Nol fling them in the fire, but to the nations
Display their wond'rous merit, brilliant and
Gliit'ring, as oa the sea-bath'J beach the sand
And my own smooth-back'd Pi-gnsu';, I feej
That thou art growing weary of tiiy load; Thou hast my warmest sympathies ! I'll steal
An hour of rest for thee along the road, And leave the sneaking curs, with hearts of steel,
1 he bosoms of the reading world to goad- 'I'hou'st borne me on a long unwanted way; So c.'osc our labors wiih die closing day !
ColuiTjbia, Mar. 23. ECHO.
THE GREEX TAPER,
Among the unfortunate families of Spanish Moriscoes who were forced to quit Spain, in 1710, there was one ol a very rich farmer, who owned ihe Casa del Luendu, or the goblin-house. As the object of the government was to hurry the Moriscoes out of the coun¬ try without allowing them time to re¬ move their property, many buried their money and jewels, in hopes of return¬ ing from Africa at some future period. Muley Hassem, according to our pop¬ ular tradition, had contrived a vault, under the large zagnan or close porch of his house. Distrusting his Christian neighbors, he had there accumulated great quantities of gold and pearls, which, on quitting the country, were laid under a spell by another Morisco, deeply versed in the secret arts.
The jealousy of the Spaniards, and the severe penalties enacted against such of the exiles as should return, precluded Muley Hassem from all op¬ portunities of recovering hia treasure. He died, intrusting the secret to an only daughter, who, having grown up at Seville, was perfectly acquainted with the spot under the charm. Fati- ma married, and was soon left a widow, with a 'laughter, to whom she taught Spanish, hoping to pass her for a na¬ tive of their country. Urged by the approach of poverty, wlndi "harp^ned •lie dc'iire to make u^e cl the. secret trusted to iier, FuLima, wii'i li.'f daugh¬ ter Ztileima, embarked on bu i-.l a cor¬ sair, and were landed secretly in a cove .near Huelva. D'.-^jseJ in the costume of peasantry, and having as sumed Christian names, dotii mother and daughter made their way to Seville on foot, or by any occasional convey ance which offered on the ruad. To avoid suspicion, they gave out that they were returning from the perlonnance of a vow to a celebrated image of the Virgin, near Moguer. I will not tire you with details as to the means by which Fatiiua uljtained a place for her¬ self and daughter, in the family then occupying tier own paternal Iiouse.— Fatlina's constant endeavors to pu-a»e her master and mistress, aucceeitcd to the utmost of her wisiies; the beauty and innocence uf Zuleima, then onlv tuurteeu, needed no studied etit'ort<> to obtain the atfeclion of the whuh- lamilv.
When Faiitna thought that tue iiuie was come, sue prepared her daa-iiter fur the impurtjiit and awtui i.tik ot recovering the treasure ot whieu siie had cousuntiy taikcd to her since liie ctiild couid understand her inea)iiii><;. The winter came on; ilie tumtly moviMi 10 tiie hrst door as usual, and FaHiUa asked to Lie allo»\eU one ol liic ;^rouiMl boor rooms lor ner-seii an.i Zjieiiu.i.— About tiie middle of bcvtiiUer, wlieii tiie periodical rains viircaUMed lo a»ak<- the Guadaiquiver oveiti<»\v Us bank-, and scarcely a soul siirred out ai'iei sun 9el, Faliiua, provided with a rope and basket, anxiously waited the hour ol midnight tu commence her incanta¬ tion. Her daughter stood trembling by her side, iu the porch to wliicti they had groped their way in the dark.— The large bell of the cathedral clock, whose sound you are well aware has a startling etfect in ihe dread silence of the nigUi, tolled the hour, and the mel¬ ancholy peal aud t>up{iiicatiun followed for about two miuuies. All was now still except the wind and rain—Fatima, unlocking with some difficulty the cold hand of the daughter out of hers,— struck a flint aud lighted a green taper not more than an inch long, which siie carefully sheltered from the wind in a pocket lantern. The light had scarce¬ ly glimmered on the ground, when the pavement yawned close by the feet ot the two females. " Now, Zuleima, my child, the only care of my life,*' said Fatima, " were you strong enough to draw me out ol the vault where our treasure lies, I would not intreat you tu hasten down by these small perpen¬ dicular steps which you here see. Fear not, my love, there is nothing below but the gold and jewels deposited by my father." " Mother," answered the tremulous girl, "1 will not break the promise 1 have made you, tho' 1 feel as if my breathing would stop the mo¬ ment I enter that horrible vault. Dear mother, tie the rope round my waist- ray hands want strength—^you must support the whole weight ot my body, merciful Allah !—my foot slips ! On! mother, leave me not in the dark!»
The vault was not radch deeper than the girl's length; and upon her slipping from one of the projecting stones, the chink of coins scattered by her leet, restored the fading courage of her mo- ther. « There, take the basket, child —quick; fill it up with gold—feel for the jewels—I must not move the lant¬
ern. Well done, my love ! Another basketful and no more. I would not expose you my only child. Yet the candle is long enougb: Icar not;—it will burn five minutes—Heavens ! the wick begins to float in the melted wax —out, out, Zuleima '.—the rope, the rope! the steps are on this side !"
A faint groan was heard;—Zuleima had dropped in a swoon over the re¬ maining gold. At this moment all was dark again;—the distracted mother searched for the chasm, but it was clo¬ sed. She beat the ground with her feet, and her agony became downright madness, on hearing the hollow sound returned from below. She now struck the flints of the pavement till her hands were shapeless with wounds; lying on the ground a short time, and having for a moment recovered the power of conscious suffering, she heard Zuleima repeat the words, " Mother, dear moth¬ er, leave me not in the dark.** The thick vault through which the words were heard, gave the voice a heart- freezing, thin, distant, yet silvery tone. Fatima lay one instant motionless on the flints; then, raising herself upon her knees, dashed her head with some¬ thing like supernatural strength against the stones. There she was found lite- less in the morning.
On a certain night in the month of December, the few who, ignorant that the house is haunted, have incautiously been upon the spot at midnight, report that Fatima is seen between two black figures, who, in spite of her violent struggles to avoid the place, vvhere her daughter is byri.id aJive, force her sit over the vatilt, with a basket full of gold at her feet. The efforts oy which she now and then attempts to stop her ears, are supposed to indicate that, for an hour, she 'is cowj/elled to hear the unfortuniteXakAnia ctying, " Mother dear mother, leave me not in the dark." \_Ackerinan*s Forget Me Not.
Summnx^j Jwiiice.—Deacon A. is a deacon in a Calvinistic church. He is a merchant; does a considerable bu¬ siness, is much respected as an honest man, because he is a deacon and looks as serious and dejected as if ha did not care a pin for all this world was worth. b'l. a>ei (j. came into his stoic ;,i3 other i'\.i\—it was a cold one—to trade off a lew bushels of wheat which is very high just at this time. The bargain was ^.oiicluded, and the farmer was to take Itis pay in salt. The store floor is as •i isiic as some deacon's consciences, i'lie bags of wheat were brought in, u'.d the measuring of their contents commenced. All at oiice the deacon's leet were insufferably cold. As the ^rain was emptied into the measure, the deacon stamped violently around it —to warm his feet. The poor fanner could not complain that the hoiie.'St dea¬ con could wish to promote circulation and get his feet warm, but his grain settled perceptibly with every stamp from the deacon's feet, and the six bushels he brought to market held out but five and a half on second measur- ment.
Old farmers sometimes "know a thing or two." Mr. G. said nothing, but proceeded to the measuring of the salt that he was to receive in pay for his wheat. The deacon's fo'et had got warm by this time; he was as light ' on the fantastic toe,' as if he were walking on eggs. Not so with the farmer. As the salt began to run into the half-bushel, his feet were suddenly seized with the cold. Being a heavy rustic, he stamp¬ ed vehemently. " Tut, tut," says the deacon, " your jumping shakes down the salt too much!" Not more than yours shook down my wheat I guess." said the farmer. When the business was »*ompleted there was about an even trade between deacon A. and farmer G. [(Christian Intelligencer.
When Bonaparte returned from his calamitous campaign of Moscow, his first asylum was the house of a poor curate io Poland, of whom he inquired 'if many fugitives had passed r'—The good creature simply replied,' No, sir; you are the first.'—This calls to mind Calonne, the minister, or rather slave of court extravagance, upon whom the ceiling of his bed fell down, and he lay entangled till a servant entered in the morning.—' Look about,' said Calonne ' perhaps it is a stratagem of robbers.' The servant's answer was—^ There is none in the chamber except your lord¬ ship."
A nice Distinction.—*^ Before I begin to drink, my business is over for the day."—" My business is over for the day, when 1 begin to drink."
J Effects of Fear.—Some years since, while an American vessel of war was stationed  at  Norfolk,   Virginia,   Dr.
D , an amiable and intelligent man.
who acted as physician and surgeon to it, used frequently to lodge on shore at the house of a respectable lady, to whose only son, a child four or five years old, the doctor had become strong¬ ly attached, from having discovered in him an extraordinary degree of preco¬ city, ind an interesting disposition.— After some months, the vessel was again
ordered to sea, and Dr. D parted
with regret. More than a year had elapsed when the same vessel returned to N. when the doctor repaired to the house of his landlady to see his little protege. The child flew to his embra¬ ces, delighted to see him. Atter the first caress was over, " Who, my dear boy," said Dr. D ¦¦, patting his head as he spoke, " who has been powdering your hair P* " Nobody," replied the child, whose joy was changed to the most extravagant grief, and bursting into a passion ot tears, he quitted the
apartment.    Dr. D  sat in  silent
amazement, for the boy's hair was as white as the mountain snow. In a rno ment after, the mother entered; and, when the first congratulations were over, he inquired the meaning of the late scene. Saying to her, ' What have you been doing to your son's hairr' '• Noihiug," sobbed she, and following the boy's example, (she weeping,) left the room.
The next time he called, she was bet ter able to account for the mystery; and informed him that a short time be fore, .she had been aroused at midnight by the loud and piercing shrieks of her child; and, on hastening to his bed found him sitting up in it; his counte¬ nance wild with horror, and the whole surface of his body dripping with cold perspiration. On being made uensible of her presence, in a confused and in¬ coherent manner, he told her he had been visited by a frightful dream. The next day it was discovered that his hair was bleached, as though he had lived a century. The mystery, (for such it may be considered,) was not perfectly understood, till about $ years since, when, by the dying confession of a re¬ lation, who was to inherit the property of the child at his decease, it was con¬ fessed, that on the night which the boy imagined he had been visited by a dream, he had, himself, made an at¬ tempt to strangle him, but was deterred from the commission by the terrific screams of the boy.—[^Trenton Empo¬ rium.
From the Philadelphia Gazette Valuable Receipt for Pronunciation.
Messrs. Editors—As there are many persons who do not mind their/)'s and ^'s. so there are many who do not luind their v*s and zv^s, and who so murder the King's English by their transposi¬ tion, tliat it is perfert misery to hear them speak. The t'ollnwing specific is recommended as a sovereign remedy, and is to be repeated as often as the habit is indulijed in.      Y' urs truly.
DIALOGUE.
Villiam, I vant my vig.
Vich vig Sir r
Vy my vite vig in the vooden vig- box, vich I vore last Vensday vas a veek; ven I vent to the viduw Vaddle's vedding.
I'm wery much wexed at your wulgar pronunciation, Mr. Walentine. You should say wig not vig. But if jou are going a wisiting, you had better take your welwet cap that you had on at the last meeting of the westry.
Vife, you are alvays vorrying me vith your criticism upon my vords.— I'm not going wisiting, as you have it, but am going to take a valk along the varves, and round Vashington Square, and perhaps I shall go as tar as the Vater Vorks.
Mr Goodall a learned assistant at Eaton, the same morning that he mar¬ ried Miss Prior, to the great astonish¬ ment of the boys attended his duties as master. A luckless urchin, who had played truant on the supposition " Tha^when a lady's in the case All other things of course give place," pleaded, very logically, as an excuse tor Ilis absence, that he really thought that Mr G. had a prior engagement.
A horseman stopped at Harding's, opposite Fair Mount; and, without dismounting, called for a pint ot beer. —He liked it and took another.—After the second—" t^andlord, whose beer is this.?" " Perot's, sir."—" It's excel¬ lent stuff—I'll get off and try some." [^Philadelphia Paper,
'• A collector of authentic dreams" ;n the New Yorii Mi^rning Herald gives the following account ol the first dis¬ covery in making siiot The art of making patent shot was invented and patented by a person of the name of Watts, of Bristol, England. 3Ir. Wm. Watts was a plumber by trade, and be¬ fore his discovery of making shot from towers, all the shot io use was made by plumbers. It is true the discovery was made in a dream, biit it was in a dream had by Mrs. Watts.
Mr. Watts followed making shot as a branch of his business, but having a, turn for experimenting, he was perpet¬ ually changing the modi; of conducting the process with a view to make shot perleclly round—to effect the object he dropped the lead in oils, fats, and many other substances, bur all without producing the desired globularity.— Mrs. Watts often attended the exper¬ iments, and felt much anxiety for the result. After attending nearly a whole day, and being as usual, disappointed, she retired to bed, and dreamed of go¬ ing into a hatter's shop where she heard shot falling. Her attention was of course roused by a subject that had filled her attention all day, and on en¬ quiring how they made it, the good man brought her a handful perfectly round, and was so polite as to inform her tliey were dropped from a great height. This dream must have hap¬ pened soon after midnight, for just at one o'clock Mr?. W. shook her husband informed hitn of her dream; Ire pro¬ nounced it infallible, jumped up. dres¬ sed himself, went to his shop, tried it as far as his means would allow, and found it woultl succeed. Tie first per¬ fect shot was made from a church tower leaning nearly over its base, it wa» then made in the shaft of a mine, and the success was complete.
Bait, Gaz,
Anecdote of a Horse.—A farmer wh© lives in the immediate neighborhood of Bedford, and regularly attended tho market there, was returning home in the evening, very recently on horse¬ back, rather groggy, and not being able very well to maintain his equilibrium, he rolled off nolens volens, into the raiddU of the road. His horse stood still, but after remaining patiently for some time, and not observing any dis¬ position in its rider to get up or pro¬ ceed any further, he took him by the collar and shook him. This had little or no effect, for the farmer only gave a grumble of dissatisfaction at liaving his repose disturbed. The horse was not to be put off by any such evasion, and 4o applied his mouth to one of hii coat laps, and after several attenpts ia this way to rai.se him upim his feet, 'he coat lap guve way. Three individuals who witnessed this extraordinarv pro- reeditm, then came up, and assisted him in muuntin;^ his charger, putting one coat tail into the pocket of the oilier, and so he safely reached home. The horse is deservedly a favorite of his master, and has we U'lderstand, nc- casionaliy been engay:»'d in gambols with him like a dog.—Tyne Mer.
The Duke of Wellington, by appoin¬ ting himself Lord Warden and Admi¬ ral of the Cinque Ports, unites in one person the soldier, the sailor and the statesman. Let those who have an eye to the next vacant mitre, with that eye keep a sharp watch on his Grace^s movements, or he will certainly steal & march upon them—get into the church before them, and sing noli episcopari, before they can say Jack Robinson.
An Irishman seeing a large quantity of potatoes standing in a market place, observed to a bye-stander, " what a fine show of potatoes.'* " Yes, they are," replied he, very fine potatoes; I see you have the name quite pat; how do you call them in your country ?" *• Ah, faith !" returned the Irishman, " we never call 'em; when we want any, we go and dig them."
Going through Euclid.—Two gen¬ tlemen the other day conversing to¬ gether, one asked the other it he had ever gone through Euclid .? The reply was •• I have never been farther from Liverpool than Runcorn, and I do not recollect any place of that name be¬ tween Liverpool and there."
Royal Learning.—The King of Per¬ sia made many inquiries of Sir Harford Jones respecting \merica, saying,— « What sort of a place is it ? How do you get at it ? Is it under ground or how ?"