Marietta Pioneer

              iMAiuisn
12-
id, tit.
^OL. II.
"to  lAV.'H  THE anVA.VrKMEST  Of   SCIENCK   AMI  THK  nlFFfSION'  f,V  ] V FO H V ¦ TIO.V,   AS  THE   BKST  ALIMKNT TU  TRTK  L! nr.HTr.'"—.MlldiiOn.
^    NO. 45.
It a. B. &. R. K. OROSK,
• it est iriviti-r fjf Inf •Market Square.
MARIETTA, (PA ) FRID.W, FEBKUARV L>9, IS2S.
i     AT $2 PER AlTNUlVr,
' •/ «. --ole evei tj Six ,Mi.nths in ndvi.uce.
.itcratii department.
re every .Muse and all the virtues meet."
Pocap.
jrror alarms the breast j the comely tc.r flteaLs .\r the cheek : or el.'.e tlie comic Muse llolds to tl-.e world a picture of itself, ^¦d r.uses sly t!ic fair imp:irti.d hiujjh."
wty • - "~
Prom the Boston Statesman- Oh give mc a chance to be quiet ! , i-v- Oh give me a chunce to be dumb i _j^ Aroynt thee ! ' .igreeable circle'' The life of :« fly m a drum ! I hale to be spi.ktn tn—ever ;
I 'i lie to be noticed at all, An'i '1''' state ! most fervently covet, Is ihc state of abtonc in a wall
Of
just now, you see, from a party, dandies and women and men ; d oh such a clattering Babe),
o monkies e'er made till then-. le pottry lisped by the damsel- he nonsense returned by the beau— edibles munch'd hy the ' monsters'— Bedlam more horrible P—No!
s ask'd ' if 1 liked Lerd livron,' 1 was ask'd ' i!' il wasn't & jam,' I Was told ' I h:'.d grown romantic,'
I was told I Was sad as a clam ; A dandy uppct my oysters,
A fat man trod on my toe; ^blue stocking begg'd for her Album, And I'm crazy—1 know—I know !
le party broke tip at eleven,
II rained like Niagara Falls ; lady got into my carriage, And the driver was d iaf lo my calls ; Forded a mile and a quarter, And lost in the darkness a pump,
Got cold, and am sick with a fever— Vi'iU 1 ever g.i out ag.iiu ! —Humph !
r\ssii'S.
f:
In 1 '.r 4Ut number we piesenie 1 our read- i^ff w.h a puzzle t.iken froan the N- York rn.'.g Courier, whicb was called strange, as a proof that we do believe il lo be •trance we cfTer the following :
This word will adinit of the following va-
lions—Age, ant, art, i.ng«r. eati, ear, earn,
|lt, threat. Greini, jcrate. gile.  gas, grant,
I, ge.tr, near, net, nest, neat. n:ig, rent, ra;;-,
rrage, rat, rate, staiig, stern, star, supe, s'a^;-,
fe, .lea   m-nt, se.ii, set, stare, san;j, tares,
*rs, tare tear, tag, ten, tar, tea, tan, segar.
It, sear, era, erst, ra-.e   rant, ante, are, as,
L and  perhaps, a few otlijrs.
4?*»S''
Sceiu'>s iv\ U\e NY est.
ot
¦J- ir-
P- .11
at
hi
lie rJ to
in
:i ¦J.
^
l'ro\n the .\t'anlic Souvenir, for 1828.
author of " I, i:,i:.c  Hows at  Sea." " I'onl deeds wdl rise, Jij'all Ihe earth o'erwiicim them, to men's cyc«." Sh.ihtpcure-
CO.^TINCEU FHO.M OUK LIST.
H(»w    gtran2;ely  doe*   the   li'iman
ind accoimnudate itself to abnost a-
\y Mfnation; tlie man wlio had spent
il llie, hitherto, in a sumptuous iiiaii-
ii:i, surrouiulci.1 by all   tbose elej:;ari-
ips and ineaas <if enjoyiiiont,   whicli.
I large city, are always to be   pro-
u;o.l    by firtuiic, now experienced.
n a lou ca'jiii, divided into but four
IMitiiten's, and tliose of the roughest
liid,   a decree of happiness   that  he
ad   iicyer  known   belore.    An<l well
e mi;;lit bo liapiiy: for be was ricii—
'it in inoii.-y—lut in a better, a in;ire
iiilfarin:; k"i»l of wealtli.—His wifo.
V. 11  hudy and   active  sons, and   thv
<>'naiii iij; dii!;;litcr,   Catharine, were
11 .iron id him, smilin:; in con ten tine tit
nJ ru.ldy with  hi-alth.    We can on-
y C'.iimatf our con liiion  in this life
V comparisdn  wiMi   others, and   his
l.sntation  was as Urge, and as well
ultivated, his crops as abiiiidaiit, his
tuck  as good  ti^  any af t!ie settlers
n ttie prairits    Hr? had still a better
oiirce of consolation : Louisa's death,
e (jiiU-' of the country, and the   nat-
•^ral \vi«h of every active mind to crc-
)»te   to   iUelf  mules of  employment.
had led hlin more frequently to read
jind f,?arch the >acred scriptures, than
^C had found leisure to do before; and
his was attend'-d. as it always is, with
he  liapoiest result, a k:iovyled;;e  and
ove of Uiin. ''vvlioiii to   know is life
tcnal."    Bit wo are diirossin^-
Tliefaoiilf of Mr. Wcntworth, with He additiii.t of Charles Rivin^ton, whom, indeed, we mi;,5!u almost speak i as una of its in^mber*; f*r, oti the omiii; New Year's day, he was to re- eive i!ic hand of their *• saucy Kate,' 8 the happy parents fondly termed er,) were i;athered around the fire aide, couyersin;; cheerfully on every topic thi*^ presented itself, when a li^lit tap wa* heard at the door, and • Mr. Rumlev, lUa deputy sheriff of the
county, entered the apartment, lie apoloirised tor his intrusiim, by sayin'", iliat havin;; had business to attend to at a cabin farther up the prairie, which detained him longer than he expected, he should not be able, on account of the darkness of the night, to return to town until the fillowing morning: he therefore hoped that he might be ac¬ commodated with a bed. Hig recjuest was of course readily complied with.
He was a tall, dark, person, dressed much in the manner of the unfortunate hunter, except that his legi^ins were of buckhkin. He had lost one eye, when ayouii^ man, in a scuffle with an in- dian two of whom sprang upon him from an ambush; this, with a tleep scar in his fjrehead, received in a tavern brawl at Now Orleans two or three years before, and the wrinkles thataj^e or more likely his manner of life had ploughed, fjave to his countenance a sinister and iJisa^reeable expression. At this time, the hajjuard appearance of his face was increased, either from hayiii" been a long while exposed to the cold, or from some latent sickness workinjj on him, for his lip (luivered, and was of a bloodless hue, and he was remarkably pale. Charles Rivingtoii. who often met hiin in his ridet«, was the first to notice the change from his usual appearance.
''You look pale and fatin;ned, Mr. Runilcy; I hope you are not unwell."
" No sir—that is—yes, I do ftcl a little sickish, and should be y;lad to ^o to bed, if its conyenient," answered Mr. Rumley.
"Perhaps there is somethin; that we can do for you sir.'" gaid the ma¬ ternal .Mr^. Wentworth.
'' No ma'am, I thank you. I reck¬ on a good night's sleep will be best for me—it's what cures all my ailinj^s.*' And in compliance with his wi.sh, the guest was shown to his apartment.
One by one, the different members of this peaceful family sought their pillows, till soon Charles Itivini^ton and the blushing Catharine were left side occupants of the room. But fhouKh alone they were not lonely; he had many an interesfiiif; tale to whis¬ per into the maidens ear (for it was al¬ most a week since 'hey had met !) and s!ie though soinethin;^ of a chatterbox, when none but her motlior and broth¬ ers were present, on this occasion be¬ trayed a wonderful aptitude for listen¬ ing.—
The hours glided rapidlv away; and (he gray iiuiriiing was already advan¬ cing, when the happy young man, im¬ printing a good night kiss on her cheek. l;dt her to those sweet dreams, which slumber bestows only on the young ami innocent.
It was late in the afternoon of the following dav that Charles ilivington, being returned to the town where he resided, was seated in hin otiice, cm- ployed in counting a roll of notes, and a pile of dollars lying at the same time on the table before him, when three men abruptly entered the apartment.
'•You are our pri.suncrl (cried the foremost of the party.) By heavens I Jim look there; thore'.s the very money itself". I can swear to that pouch."— .\iid here he rudely seized our hero by the collar.
" .Stand back, sir, and lay hold of me at your peril," returned Charles Ilivington, sternly; as shaking the man from him, he gave him a blow that sent him to the other side of the ollice.— ••What is that you have to say ? and if I ain to be made prisoner, produce your warrant."
" You may as well submit quietly, Dr. Riyinj;ton," said another of the party, who was a constable. " You, perhaps can explain every thing; but you must come with us before Squire Lawton. This is my authority; (show¬ ing a paper.) and it is only necessary to say that suspicion rests on you as the murderer of old Silversight, who was founil shot through the head, on ihe road this morning."
" Is it possible ! poor old man, has he really been killed ! ^Yheu I par¬ ted froiii him last night, he was not only well, but seemed in excellent spirit.s,'' said the doctor.
"He parted from him la«t night— mark that Buckhorn," said the one who had just received a severe repulse fr.itn our hero, and whose name was Carlock. '-He left him in excellent spirits!   mark what the villain   says."
"There need be no jeering about it," replied Buckhorn. Doctor Ilivington, you tended me in my bad fever last spring, and agin when I had the chills in the fall, and you stuck by me truer than anv frie.ad'rve had since my old mother died, except this 'ere rifle, and I'm monstrous sorrv I found it where I did. It may be so, that you've got a clear conscience yet; but whether or no, though uld Sdvcrsight and me has
I unted together many and inany's the day, you shall have fair play any how, damn mc if you shan't. Thai 'ere mo¬ ney looks bad; if it had been a fair fight, we mought a-hush,d it up some¬ how or 'nother."
Ourliero, while Buckhorn was speak¬ ing, had time to reflect that if Silver- sight were indeed dead, circumstances would really authorize this arrest.— The rifle, which he was known to have carried with him from town, had been found, it seems, besides the murdered body. The money that the unfortu¬ nate man had entrusted to him, was discovered in his possession—and how could it be proven for what purpose it had been given him ? As these thoughts rushed rapidly through his mind, he turned to the officer, and observed,
•' Mr. Pike, I yield myselfyour pris¬ oner. I perceive there are some cir¬ cumstances that cause suspicion to rest on me. 1 must relv. for a wliile, upon the character which I trust I have ac¬ quired since my residence among you. tor honor and fair dealing, until I sliall either be enabled to prove my inno¬ cence, or heaven places in the hands of justice the real perpetrator of the deed."
So sayinj, he gathered up the money from the table, and departed with the officer and his companions, to the house of Mr. Lawton, who, being a justice <if ihe peace, had issued a war¬ rant for his appreliensior>.
" I have always been glad to s''e you heretofore. Doctor Ilivington.'' said the maijistratp, politely, on tiie appear¬ ance of that person before him, "and should be so now. wcie it not that you are charged with a crime, which, it proved, will call down the severest vengeance ofthe law. 1 hope, and be¬ lieve, however, that you can establish your innocence. Where wore you, sir, on the afternoon of yesterday .'*
" I went out to visit some patients, me.'.ning to continue my ride as far as Mr. Buckhorn's—and took his rifle with me, from the gitnsmitirs with the intention of stopping and leaving it— but I met with old Mr. Silversight at the cross roads, who was going up from the New Settlements, and ho offering to take charge of it, I gave it to him. We parted at the fork, and crossed over to Mr. Wentwnrth's.''
•' Did Mr. Silveraiglit continue on his journey, having Jim Buckhorn's ride with him .-" asked the justice.
"Yes sir—but belore we separated he gave me this money, (handing the notes and specie to the magitdrate,) re¬ questing me to pay it into the land of lice to-»lay, to clear out .Mr. Richly's land. He said there were five hun¬ dred dollarB in all, and 1 was counting it when arrested."
'• riiere is a most unfirtunate coin¬ cidence of circumstance-. a:rai;i-t you, Doctor. The man i> fouiivl uiurdored, the ritlc which you were kaown^o liave carried, lying near him, and you ar¬ rive in town on the next day with the money of the deceased in your posses¬ sion. The poir old man's horse going home Avitliout his rider, excites alarm —Buckhorn and Carlock, with other neighbors, set out ujion the track— tiioy fill.I the murdered victim, stark and bloody, lying on the snow, which was scarcely whiter than his aged heatl —they divide—some bearing the body back,'while olliers follow ou the trail —it le.id.s them to Mr. Wentworth's, where you acknowledge you passed the iiijrht—they there enquire what per¬ son made the tracks which they had followed, and were answered it was you—'hey continue on your trail until you arrive in town—they make affida¬ vit of these facts, and procure a war¬ rant for your arrest, when, to complete the chain of evidence, you are found counting the spoils of the murdered man. Now, sir, what answer can you make to these appalling circumstances.' "They are appalling indeed, sir, (said our hero,) and I can only reply to them—I am innocent. If the poor man was murdered, the one who did it must certainly have left tracks—and I fear they have fallen upon his trail and taken it for mine. But it is in my power to prove that I had no weapons with me, except that unlucky rifle, and the gunsmith will testify that he gave me no balls with it."
"The gunsmith has already been before me,'' said Squire Lawton, " for I wat loth to have you apprehended except on application backed by such proof as could not be rejected. He states that when he gave you the gun, the lock had been repaired and polish¬ ed, and that since that time it had certainly been discharged. 1 am sorry to do it, sir, but my duty compels mc to commit you."
It is needless to dwell longer on this examination. Our hero was committed for trial, and so strong were the proofs
adduced against him, that the worthy magistrate, and iiideedthe whole neigh¬ borhood, could scarce hesitate to be¬ lieve him guilty. When the sun arose that morning, Charles Rivington was one of the happiest of men. Loving aud beloved, his business increasing, his name re.spec'ed, and the time r.i- pidly approaching which was to bind Iiim to his Catharine in the tender ro- lationsliipof marriage—hel 'oked back upon the i-lorious orb as it burst up through the eastern heave'i with an ove of almost kindred brightness. How changed the s:ene at its setting—its last rays fell upon him through the iron guarded window of a prison. Yet. could we examine into the soul of that young man as he lay in one corner of the small and noisome apartment, on a bed of straw that had been spread for a former inmate, we should find, perhaps, though surrounded bv the greatest danger—the danger of dying an ignominious dea'h, and of having a blot left forever on his memory, he was srill serene and happy. And why was this .'' He had a companion in that dreary place, whose acquaintance had been sought in the hours of prosperitv. and who now. in tlie darkne»s of truu ble, would not depart; a comp.inion that can cheer us amid the revilings of the worh). can pierce through the bars <if a diiiigeon, and whisper to the de¬ sponding sjiirit, '• Bles'so I are thoy that mourn, for they .shall be comfor¬ ted."
Charles Rivington was one of the too small number of young men who are not a«*liamed to be religious; 'and verily ho had his reward." The mere worldiiiig simil.irly situated, would have been loud in iin| recations, or dumb with agony—but he. upborne by conscious iunocehco, and knowing that not a sparrow falls to the ground without the will ot our heavenly Fa¬ ther, humbled himself in prayer before that Ueing, " who is mighty to save unto the uttermost," and he arose from the exercise with those tranquilr/ed and invigorated feelings which are its invariable result.
Nearly two years had elapsed since our hero emigrated to that western re¬ gion.— He was the youngest, and, at the time of our narrative, the only sou •if -x widowed mother, who had been doomed to follow successively to the grave a luisbj'.id, a lovely daughter, her eldest born, and two fine a? «i promising boys. Sick of th« bcen- where death had made such havoc, and crushed so many fragrant buds of promise, she consented to accompany iier sole remaining child to ;t place where the iievyiie»s of the coun'ry see¬ med to hold forth greater prospects of success than was afforded to a young practitioner among the over¬ stocked population of a city.— Hither¬ to their e.\pectation3 had been amply reali7.ed. He who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, |iroyided for the wounded h^art of that Christian wid¬ ow a balm of sweetest efficacy. Her .son was such a child as mothers pray for; he strove by redoubled filial at¬ tentions to supply the place of the lost ones to his parent; and her eyes sel¬ dom rested on his manly torm, that they did not become watery from the over-fulness of gratified maternal love. Their family misfortunes had render¬ ed his mind uncommonly ductile; and it was she who planted there those seeds of righteousness, which, as we have seen, sprang up and brought forth goodly fruit.
On the afternoon of her son's com¬ mitment, she was sitting in the parlour of the pleasant little house which they occupied, when Juily, an Irish girl, who had lived long in the family, remaining with them through all their trouble, raine running, almost breathless, iuto the apartment.
Och, Mistress, and the Lord bless you," she cried, as soon as she was able to speak, "and presarve your old heart from breaking—but I's got bad
" Oh nothing at all, at all, mistress, (responded Jj,jj, gtriving to speak calmly, that she might not too sudden¬ ly shock the trembling parent; then, unable to control her feelings, she sob- bod vut,) my poor dear young master's in prison."
"In prison I" exclaimed the aston¬ ished mother, turning quickly to the wooiiing girl, and giaspiiig her arm, 'Judy.' said siio, with the earnestness of a-.uu/.cd apprehension 'tell me the wliole truth—you have seen me bear caJamity betore—what does all this mean r'
"Ah, madam, jist be quiet," rctnrn- 0(1 the auxious servant, "its only one of them drunken hunters what's kilt himself, and the blackguards want to lay it to poor Mr. Charles, becase he is a yankee. as thoy cull it, and that's jist the whole of it."
"My boy accused of murder ! my honorable, my pious boy. Father of mercies !" said the pale and agitated mother, sinking on her knees, '"if this withered heart is doomed to receive a- nother wound, if my last earthly prop 's to be torn from me, oh ! do thou giva me strenu;th to bear th^s greatest of af¬ flictions, and enable me to say, Thy will not mine be done." She rose witli renewed composure, and turning to her miid, ''get me my hat and shawl, Judy." said she, "I'm glad it is na worse—this is but a passing cloud ; for he IS innocent, and his innocence will soon be manil'est. I feared lest he might be sick, or thrown from his horse; but the Lord be praised, who hath not tried his servant beyond hec strength."
•' Gay Sport, that ¦::-riiikled Care derides, .1'fl t.au^rhter ho'ding both his sides "
new
s f0
r ye.'
" How often. Judy, must I repeat to you, (said the pious old lady, interrup¬ ting her) that it is extremely wrong to use the name of your Maker so famil¬ iarly on all occasions—'the Lord will not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vaiu.'"
"Botheration, ma'am, but I's no time to tend to that now—"
" Judy ! (interrupted Mrs. Riving¬ ton again,) how can you speak so—''
" Ma'am, will you please to near me, (roared out the servant, at length ful¬ ly restored to her voice.) are you go¬ ing to set here preaching, and let them murder Mr. Charles."
" Charles I gracious Providence, (cri¬ ed the mother, catching the alarm of the menial,) what is the matter—sure¬ ly nothing evil has happened to him .=*"
Distinction betiocen a Lord and a Gentleman.—The nurse of James 1st. intreated him to make her son a gen¬ tleman—"My good woman," exclaim¬ ed the good natured King, "a gentle¬ man I cannot m ike him though I could make him a Lord." Something a kia to this is the anecdote of an Admiral, who for one of his splendid victories was created a Peer, which coming to the ears of the crew they were mucli incoLSi'd, as they conten'led lie was a Ring on hoard and had degraded him* self by accepu.ig the title of a Lord,
The late Professor Porson having once exasperated a disputant bv the dryness of his scarcasm, the petulent opponent thus addressed him: "Mr. Porson, I beg leave to tell you, sir, that my opinion of you isporfectly con¬ temptible." '"Sir," replied Porson, •'I never knew an opinion of yours whicii was not contemptible."
A quaker gentleman, covered witb his beaver, was once in company witli a lady rather too much uncortred, who ^rank to his ••broad-brimmed beaver." The qiKiker having th.mked her for tho honor s!ie did hiiu. obsorveti, filling up a bumper, ''in return for thy civil¬ ity, Maria, I drink to t\\vvbsent band' ktrchlif'
A lady dying who was much given to scolding, particularly to the servants, her husband caus'-d an escutcheon t» be put against his house, under wiiicIl was the following common motto. In coflo qiiles, The coachman asked the undertaker's apprentice the meaning of these words, and en being iufiiimed it Wis there is rest in Heaven, answer¬ ed. "Then I'm aure mistress be'aat there."
Sensibility.—A lady, who made pre¬ tensions to the most refined feeling, went to her bucther to renioostrato with him on his cruel practices, ••How," said she, "can you he so bar¬ barous as to kill a little lamb .^" "Why not, madam r" said the butcher, "you would not eat it alive, would you r"
An old man when dangerously sick, was urged ta take the advice of a phy¬ sician, but objected, saying, "1 wish t« die a natural death 1"
" Resolved, by the House of Repre¬ sentatives, (Maine) that the shanks of
this House   kie presented  to ¦, E*q.
for his impartial conduct as Speaker, during the present session.
Mr. T. teacher of dancing, hops for the patronage of his friends and the public.
Fire.—A large mouse (h) was de¬ stroyed by fire in ¦ street last night.
Old co/ts (a) dre.ssed by steam, so aa. to to )k as good as new, at the scour¬ ing establishment.
There  was much   farce   (o) m  the
speech of Mr.  on the amendment
ofthe con«tituti»n>—.^OM;cr of Taste.