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each other! I lost no time-jumped out of the churn-out of the window, and did not look behind me until I arrived safe at home.

Thus ended my adventure with the dairy maid. A story got among the preacher's superstitious flock, “that the devil had risen from the churn, and accused him of impiously breaking the Sabbath."

The parson himself really believing that it was the devil, never again attempted to

make butter on Sunday.

From Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.
The Bride.

The bridal veil hangs o'er her brow,
The ring of gold is on her finger,
Her lips have breath'd the marriage vow,
Why should she at the alter linger?

Why wears her gentle brow a shade,
Why dim her eye, when doubt is over,
Why does her slender form for aid
Lean tremblingly upon her lover?

It is a feeling of regret,

For solemn vows so lately spoken?

It is a fear scarce own'd as yet,

That her new ties may soon be broken?

Oh no! such causes darken not

The cloud that's swiftly passing o'er her? Hler's a fair and happy lot,

And bright the path that lies before her.

Her heart has long been freely given,

To him who now her hand possessing, Through patient years has fondly striven To merit well the precious blessing.

It is the thought of untried years

That, to her spirit strongly clinging, Is dimming her blue eye with tears, And o'er her face a shade is flinging.

It is the thought of duties new ;
Of wishes that may prove deceiving,-
Of all she hopes, yet fears to do,

Of all she loves, and all she's leaving;

It is the thought of bygone days,

Of them, the fond, the gentle hearted, Who meet not now her tearful gaze,

The dear, the absent, the departed!

Oh! who can marvel that the bride
Should leave the alter weeping;
Or who would seek those tears to chide,
That fresh and green her heart are keeping.

Not he who with a lover's care,

And husband's pride, is fondly guiding Her trembling steps; for he can share The gentle thoughts that need no hiding.

Soon love for him those tears will chase,
And smiles re-light her eye with gladness:
And none will blame, who truly trace,

To its pure source, her transient sadness.

A. E.

The Canoe Fight.

During the last war, there was an encounter between a party of whites and a body of indians, in Alabama, in which a short and sharp action took place, that has been distinguished on a count of its chivalrous daring, by the title of "The Canoe Fight." The conflict which has been so designated, was confined to three whitemen in a canoe, which was paddled by a negro, who took no other part in the action, and a canoe manned by seven Creek Indians. It took place shortly after the memorable massacre at Fort Mims, in the vicinity of that place and happened in consequence of attempts on the part of the white settlers, to expel the Indians who were yet hovering around them. We have been requested by many friends to furnish the particulars of this interesting little piece of history, but where never in possession of its details, till recently. We are now, however, through the kindness of Mr. Jeremiah Austill, who, with Col. Samuel Dale and James Smith, composed the white party to this bold contest, in possession of the facts and incidents.

For the purpose as before mentioned, of driving the Indians from their neighborhood, a party amounting to the number of seventytwo men under the command of Col. Dale, volunteered their services. They set out on their enterprise from Fort Madison, twelve miles west of Claiborn. They proceeded downwards on the west side of the river Alabama, until they reached Brashier's Ferry, eighteen miles below Claiborn, by water, where they crossed over to the east bank, and remained over night, under cover of the thick cane.

In the morning the chief part of the company commenced their march upwards on the east margin of the river, leaving Austill with a detachment of five or six, to take the canoes up the river to a place for recrossing.— Three miles above, at Bailies' Shoals, Austill's party again met the company, where they sought for traces of the Indians, and discovered signs of their recent presence. They then continued their pursuit in the same direction, Austill's party remaining in the canoes, and Dale's on the land. About one mile below Rundous' farm, Dale who was in advance of his company, encountered the first Indians that were seen, a party of ten in number, one of whom he killed. The others seeing the number of Dale's party behind him, betook themselves to flight, leaving in the hurry of their movements all their pack of provisions.At Rundous' farm, a few miles below Claiborne, the land and water parties met again.

At this point they concluded to recross to the west bank of the river and ascend it upon that side, and the company commenced recrossing in the two canoes. In the mean time Dale and Austill, with James Smith and others, who remained on the east side, were employed in a small field, in kindling a fire, for the purpose of cooking the provisions which had been abandoned by the Indians. The whole party, with the exception ot Dale, Austill, Smith, and the others engaged in preparing the provisions, soon reached the opposite bank of the river, having one of the canoes on their side, and leaving the other with the party who had yet to cross.

This was the critical moment. A canoe,

containing eleven Indians, now shot out from behind a bend of the river. It descended rapidly, with the apparent purpose of intercepting the passage of the remaining party, and at the same instant the attention of the little

band was atatrcted by the whoops and cries of numerous Indians, running down the high banks in their rear, gathering and surrounding three sides of the field. The party seized their weapons, and having no alternative, now rushed down the second bank of the river. They opened a rapid fire at the Indians, who were approaching the shore in the canoe, two of whom leaped out and swam with their guns above the water, for the shore, above a small creek that run in at the upper corner of the field. Austill and Smith dashed across the creek to attack these two as they landed; but Austill becoming entangled in the cane, fell and rolled into the river within a few feet of them. Smith at this moment killed one, and the other fled up the bank, and Austill immediately recovering himself, pursued the flying Indian through the cane, Col. W. Crough another of the party, had at the same time with Austill and Smith, run up the creek to crooss it where it was less deep, and hearing a rustling among the bushes, shot at Austill supposing him to be one of the two Indians.

While this bye scene was enacting, Dale and the other eight of the gallant band, were sustaining and returning a hot fire with the Indians in the canoe, who sheltered themselves in the bottom, resting their guns on its sides; and they were receiving desultory shots from those that had encompassed the field. The party were screened in a great measure, from the fire of the Indians on the land, by the bank they had descended, and these Indians were deterred from a nearer approach, by ignorance of their numbers.-To this circumstance their

wonderful escape of slaughter is chiefly to be ascribed. Austill, Smith, and Crough, presently returned to the company and joined in firing on the canoe. Meanwhile their companions on the opposite bank of the river, had been anxious, excited spectators of the scene; and Dale perceiving now that escape would be hopeless, the moment the feebleness of his little party was discovered, called out to them for assistance. Eight persons pushed out in a canoe to recross and join him.-They came on until they could see the number of Indians in the canoe, when the man in the bow of the boat cried out to the oarsman, to back water, that the Indians were too many for them, and they returned.

Dale then, indignant at the conduct of these associates, proposed to his party, for themselves to attack the Indian canoe; and dashed down the bank into the river, followed by Austill and Smith. These three, with a colored man, who acted as paddler, entered the canoe and pushed into the stream.-As the canoe party approached, one of the Indians fired, without

effect. Smith returned the fire; when within thirty feet of the Indians, Dale and Austill attempted to fire, but their priming had been wet, and their guns could not be discharged. The white party then pressed onward in silence, and closed in with their enemies. The canoes came in contact at the bows, and Austill bore for a moment the brunt of the battle; their sterns, however, presently swayed up, and Dale sprang into the end of the Indian canoe, leaving room for free action, and an equal share of the combat, to his two associates. Their only weapons were their rifles, with which they fought as with clubs. The first or second blow delt by Dale, broke the barrel of his gun, and by some means unknown to themselves Dale exchanged his broken barrel for Smith's

gun, with which they fought to the end of the scene. Near the close of the conflict, Austill was prostrated by a war club, of one of the Indians, and fell into the canoe, between two of them. One aimed a second blow at his head, which was simultaneously arrested by Dale and Smith, and the Indian slain; Austill rose with another Indian, who like himself had fallen in the fight, struggled with him for a moment, wrested his club and striking him on the head, he fell into the river. This was the last Indian; he rose once after the blow, receiving another, sunk for the last time.

Dale's party then commenced clearing the canoes of the dead bodies of the Indians, by throwing them overboard. While so engaged, they were fired upon by the Indians from the

shore; one ball struck the canoe, and another passed between Smith and Austil. In the face of this firing they returned to shore for their friends, crossed the river, once more to join the main body of their party, and reached it in safety. The whole party had not lost a single man. The only weapons remaining after the battle, were a war-club and gun, wrested from the Indians by Austiil.

a

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE.-At a campmeeting among the converts was one who appeared to be unusually affected. He was young man who previous to that time was quite wild and depraved, but now he exhorted his wicked companions to "cease to do evil and learn to do well." He was often during the intervals of divine worship, seen at prayers alone. Upon one of these occasions, another young man concluded to watch while he prayed. The convert implored our heavenly Father to have mercy, and concluded a lengthy prayer in the following strain: "And now, our heavenly Father, we desire thee to send down hailstones, and thunder and lightning and brickbats, until thou destroyest every sinner upon this mount." The watchmen at this threw a brickbat at the worshipper when he jumped up and cried out, "O Lord, I was only a joking, but I believe you are in earnest!" This occured in Alabama.

FLYING Music.-A merchant of Philadelphia has received from Canton a paper kite which in flight becomes musical on the principle of the Eolian harp. It is described as having two holes, one rather larger than the other, made along the backbone of the kite through which the air, when the kite is raised, strikes the string, and produces the musical effect of the Eolian harp. Instead of a catgut string, a fibre of cane is made use of in this instrument. A witness says that he has frequently experienced the effect it produces; and the first time he heard of it, it struck him with great surprise. He heard the exquisite music, but could see nothing that appeared to have any connexion with the sound which appeared, and was in fact, aerial.

SINGULAR AFFAIR.-The annals of matrimony seldom furnish a more romatic incident than has lately taken place in this city. A respectable mechanic was married about six months since to the lady of his choice; and as they were of corresponding age, tastes and

dispositions, the match was pronounced a good one by their friends and acquaintance. Every thing went on harmoniously and happily, until one day within the last four weeks, when the wife appeared before her husband dressed apparently for a walk. She stated, in a few words, that she was about to leave him, and for ever-and she could give no reason for her conduct, other than that she disliked the married life-she had always been treated kindly and affectionately; but that her determination was made, and nothing could swerve her from it. She then retired to the residence of her mother, and has since resisted all pursuasion to induce her to change her purpose.We think it would puzzle the wisest heads to account for this singular freak, especially when it is considered that every thing present and in prospects would naturally tend to strengthen the connubial relationship.-Bost.

Traveller.

AMUSEMENT. If a bow be always bent, the mind be continually engrossed upon study, it will soon become weak and useless-and if its powers will diminish by degrees, and perpected moment. This illustrates the necessity haps suddenly become unstrung at an unexof amusement rational, innocent and occasional, for if it occupies as much of our time and faculties as the ordinary business of life, it reverses the object for which it was intended, and ranks itself with other idolatrous occupations. As a bow which is never bent is at last incapable of being devoted to its proper use. So the mind which is continually unstrung amid effeminate pleasures, relaxation and follies, become finally unfit for any manly or worthy pursuits; and like a useless bow, is thrown aside, and rejected, when if it had been properly trained to the high purposes of its being, it had reached as lofty a mark as the most illustrious of its cotemporaries.

PHILOSOPHY.-A love-smitten Professor

in one of our colleges, after conversing awhile with his Dulcinea on the interesting topic of matrimony, concluded at last with a declaration, and put the very emphatic question of— "Will you have me?"

"I am sorry to disappoint you," replied the lady, "and hope my refusal will not give you pain. But I must answer-no,"

"Well, weli,-that will do Madam," said her philosophical lover," and now suppose we change the subject.

From "Lord Nial" and other Poems.
Town and Country.-By J. M'Dermott More.

O leave the gloomy city

For the mountain and the vale,
Where the ploughman trolls his ditty,
And the flowers perfume the gale.
Aye brooding o'er thy treasures

Like the Gnome that guards a mine,
O how lofty are my pleasures
When comparisoned with thine.

Thou hast never roamed the mountain
With a pointer and a gun,
Or reclined thee by a fountain
Partly shaded from the sun;
Where the golden gleams that sliver
Through the glancing branches high,
Fall in showers upon the river
As it rells in music by.

Thou hast never haply wandered
With the lady of thy love,
Where the glassy brook meandered

Through a lonely sunlit grove,
Where the branches darkly wreathing,
Bared the beauty of her eyes,
And the flowers around thee breathing,
Gave their incense to her sighs.

And O! the bliss of blisses,
Thou hast never roamed the tide
In a shallop built for kisses,

With that lady there beside;
Believe me, such a minute

On the lonely, laughing foam,
Hath a thrill of rapture in it,
Worth an age of bliss at home.
Then come to where the heather
Spreads her mantle on the hill,
And we'll roam the wilds together,
Or we'll rest beside the rill,-
And we'll spurn the canker glooming
On thy wrinkled wissage now,
Till the brightest roses blooming
Shall be mirrored in thy brow.

The Beautiful Convict.

A TALE OF TRUTH.

ROSE MAC ORNE was a rare sample of Scottish beauty. Her eyes deeply blue; as Loch Lemonds; glowing checks; hair light and glossy, parted over her broad forehead, like folds of flax-colored satin; features, which a shrewd and active mind had developed; a tall, muscular frame of stately proportions; and a firm, elastic, rapid tread, which she had acquired in early days, when

service; for she was neat and thrifty as a brownrie, and had the obsequious manner of their countrymen, united with their proverbial knowledge of the most direct road, to favor and fortune. Her greatest misfortune was her beauty. Often after the most unremitting efforts to please, poor Rose was accused of a thousand faults, and dismissed by prudent wives and daughters, lest she should become too dear a servant. Scotch discrimination soon discovered the source of the difficulty, and Scotch ambition resolved to make the most of it. To lovers of her own rank she was alternately winning and disdainful-determined that none should break her chains, yet dealing out her scorn to each as their characters would bear. With her superiors she played a deep and insidious game. Trusting to her own strength of pride, she resisted their arts while she almost invariably made them the victims of their own. In all this Rose was actuated by something more than girlish love of flirtation and had formed high hopes of opulent marriage. Many a Contab and Oxonian, many a testy bachelor and gouty widower had got entangled in her toils and been extricated only by the interference of some proud or prudent relations. At length, notwithstanding her modest manner and apparent artlessness, the intrigues of Rose Mac Orne become as proverbial as her beauty; and she could obtain no service in any family where youth was to be fascinated, or wealthy old age to be cajoled.

Hearing an East Indiaman was about to put sail, with many ladies on board. Rose resolved to seek employment among them; and succeeded in being appointed dressing-maid to an old lady who was going out to Calcutta, to preside with an invalid son. India, matchi making India opened glorious prospects to Scotch ambition. Rose took unexampled means to please her new mistress; and in two days she was a decided favorite. No wonder the gipsy began to feel proud of her power, for she never attempted to please without effecting her purpose. But when was inordi nate ambition known to be a safe-guard either to talent or beauty? In two days Rose was to leave England; and her mistress having granted her permission to attend the races, she as a last act of her kindness to one of her earliest Her youth was unfortunate; for her moth- and most favored lovers, consented to accomer had died during her infancy; and her pany him. Rose was very fond of ornaments; profligate and selfish father had abandoned and it chanced that her heart was particularly her before she reached the dangerous age of set on a large pearl pin, which her mistress fifteen. said she had seldom wore on account of its Many were anxious to take Rose into their antique fashion. Rose had more than once

"Down the rocks she leaped along,
Like rivulets in May."

signified how pretty she thought it; and wondered if she were rich enough to buy pearls, whether they would become her full and snowy neck. She dared not ask for it outright, and she never in her life-time had thought of taking any thing dishonestly. But vanity, vanity—that foolish and contemptible passion which has slain its tens of thousands,' and that too among the fairest and brightest of God's works-prevailed over the better feelings of Rose Mac Orne. She took the envied pin-wore it to the races-heard James Mc Intyre praise it--told him her new mistress had given it to her-and then, dreading the discovery of the fact, began to devise schemes for exchanging the bauble. The path of sin is steep, and every step presses on forward with accumulated power. Rose had already committed a second crime to conceal the first; and now the hopes of secrecy urged her to commit others. She sold the breastpin and bought a ring with the money, in hopes the pearl would never be inquired for this side of India-but in this she was mistaken; that very day her lady missed the jewel; and Rose went even deeper in falsehood than was necessary to keep up appearances.

I will not follow her through every step of this shameful struggle. It is sufficient to say the theft was discovered; and Rose instead of

sailing for glorious and match-making India, was in a few weeks hurried on board a vessel; in which sixty-two other convicts were destined for Botany Bay. This was a painful reverse for one so young, so beautiful, so inordinately ambitious. She looked back upon England with mingled feelings of grief and indignation-contempt of herself, and hatred of the laws by which she suffered.

Rose Mac Orne had a mind elastic and vigorous, it soon rebounded from depression, and began to think of new schemes of conquest. She looked around among her companionsmost of them tall and robust-some of them very handsome. There were sixty-two convicts and fifteen seamen on board. Before they were half across the Atlantic, Rose Mac Orne had laid a plan daring enough for the helmeted Joan of Arc, in the full tide of her inspiration. She communicated the plan to the women, which they entered into heartily and warmly. Rose might have found lovers enough on board, notwithstanding the strict orders of the officers: but she chose but one, and that was the Pilot! Glances and tender notes soon passed between them unperceived by others; for the artful Rose was like a glazier, when the eye of the officer was upon

her; and her lover was capable of playing as deep a game as she.

At length the important hour arrivedevery precaution had been taken-all things were in readiness. The vessel stood for the La Plata, to exchange cargoes and take in refreshments. They entered the huge arms of the silvery river; and cut its waters with the arrow flight of a bird. At length Buenos Ayres lay before them in the distance with the broad clear bright moon spread over it like a heavenly robe. The wind died away-and the vessel lay gently moving on the bosom of that majestic river, like a child playing itself into slumber. Midnight came-Rose had an eye like a burning glass-the crisis was at hand-and all looked to her for direction. Her lover according to promise, had taken his turn to be pilot, and all slept save him and his convicts. He sat at the helm looking out upon the waters, and listening to the "silence audible." There was a slight motion of the sails announced by a low whistle from the pilot. In twenty minutes every man was bound fast and gagged, the convicts were armed-and the vessel was in full sweep for the port of Buenos Ayres! There it arrived a

prize to the prisoners! Great noise was made about the vessel being seized by a woman, and brought triumphantly into port. The Lady Shore (for that was the name of the vessel) was crowded with South Americans.— The bravery of woman was loudly applauded. and in three days the richest young Spaniard offered himself to the bold and beautiful Rose Mac Orne. Her promise to the pilot was forgotten. The ambitious lassie now wears pearls and glittering gold; and most of her sister convicts are at the head of respectable families in Buenos Ayres.

The Broken Heart.
BY WASHINGTON IRVING.
I never heard

Of any true affection, but 'twas nipt With care, that like the caterpiller eats The leaves of the spring's sweet bud and rose. It is a common thing to laugh at love stories, and to treat the tales of romantic passion as mere fictions of poets and novelist, that never existed in real life. My observations on human nature have convinced me of the contrary and has satisfied me that however the surface of the character may be chilled and frozen by the cares of the world and pleasures of society, there is still a warm current of affection running thro' the depths of the coldest heart, that prevents its being utterly congealed.— Indeed, I am a true believer in the blind deity, and go to the full extent of his doctrines.-

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