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^ ifamilg Nctugpopcr; S3tP(itci> to |)oiitic0, iltigcttlanjj, ^gricitUurc, auir ®ei^ttaL3nk^cn«. W. P. & G. H. BALDWIN, Proprietors. W: HENRY WARD) ;fiditor»~TerHis—$1,25 P#r Unmmm. VOL. 2. LITCHFIELD, (CONN.) JUNE 29, 1848. Gen. Butler a Poet A firiend acd professional gentleman handed us the other day, the following exquisite little gem, ifHiieh we hasten to lay before the admirers of the ^MautiTul in poetry: " It appears, (says a recent able Journal,) that the gallant soldier and elevated statesman, Gen. W*t. O. BtTTLEK, the Democratic nominee for Vice President, is also a poet, brave as a lion— gentle as a lamb.” The New Mirror, (the best literary paf>er in the Western World,) says : “ General Butler is a poet, as well as a sddier and democrat, and will draw hard upon tlie sympathies of the literary classes." “ In confirmation of tliis, we find the following beautiful poem in our casket of gathered gems, from rarious shoi-es: The Boat Horn: BY GIN. W. O. BUTI.ER. O, boatman, wind that born again, For never did the list’ning air Upon its lambent bosom bear So wild, so soft, so sweet a strain! What though thy notes are sad and fuw, By every simple boatman blown, Yet is each pulse to nature true, And melody in every tone. How oft in boyhood’s joyful day, Unmindful of the lapsing hours. I ’ve loitered on my homeward way, By wild Ohio’s brink of flowers, While some lone boatman from the deck, Poured his soft numbers to that tide, As if to charm from storm and wreck. The boat where all his fortunes ride! Delighted Nature drank the sound, Enchanted—Echo bore it round, In whispers soft, and softer st^l. From hill to plain, and plain to hill, Till e’en the thoughtless frolic boy, Elate with hope, and wild with joy, Who gambolled by the river’s side, And sported with the fretting tid^ Feels something new pervade his breast. Change his light step, re|M«sE his jest, B»>nds o'er (he flood liie eager ear, To catch tlie sounds far off, yet dear— Drinks the sweet dftught.but knows not why The tear of rapture fills his eye. And can he now, to manhood grown. Tell why those simple notes so lone. As on the ravished ear they fell. Bind every sense in magic spell 1 There is a tide of feeling given To ail on earth; iu fountain Heaven, Beginning with the dewy flower, Justope’d in Flora’s vernal bower— Rising creation’s orders through, Withioudermurmur, brighter hue; « ' Tis sympathy! its ebb and flow,' Gives life its hoes, its joy and woe. Music, the spirit that can move Its waves to war, or lull to love— Can cheer the sailor mid the wave. And bid him on, nor fear the grave— Inspire the pilgrim on his road,< And elevate his soul to God. Then, boatman, wind that horn again ! Though much of sorrow mark it* strain, Yet are its notes to sorrow deai*; What though tliey Wake fond mem’ry^Wfear ! Tears are sad mem’ry’s sacred feast, Aod rapture ofl her chosen guest. From the N. O. Commercial Times. The Fisher’s Glee; From the <Boatnia]i’& Dance.’ BY WAI-TER H. PETERS. When Spring with her cheering smile has past, And Summer hath her shadows cast, The fisher’s net^ line the rocky shore. Where the sea bird shrieks to the tempest’s roar. Dh! a fisher’s life for me! O h ! a fisher’s life for me! We laugh and sing As our nets we fling T o thewoar of the blast—aright merrily ! Huzza! Huzza! for the fisher’s life! Huzza ! huzza! for the fisher’s life, Free as the wind from care or strife. We rise in the mom while the sea gull’s scream; We scud o’er Uie wave where her treasures teem; We cast our nets with a loud huzza, To the depths below, ’mid the tempest’s roar! Oh! a fisiier’s life for me, etc. When night her veil o’er the earth doth fling, Our spoils to the shore we cheerily bring; We feast from our neU that are fill’d from the deep And we’re happier far tlian a monarch’s keep. ^ Oh ! a fisher’s life for me, etc. We fear iwt the Uast; we laugh at its frown— W«’U nng as the stwm c o ^ rushing down; Let the landsman fear the dark blue sen— But a fisbar’s life is thte life for me ! Oh 1 a fisher’s life for me, etc. New Orleans, May, 1848. As fade the wiki flowers from the scene, That spreads abroad in smiling greeii, So perish earthly hopes and joys. Which rode adversity destroys. iW i0£cUmtij. Waking Up the Wrong Passenger. A HIGHWAY STORY OF A SHERIFF. BY FALCONRIDGE. The inexcusable penchant some people have, for poking their nasal protuberances into the affairs of others, not unfreqiiently costs considerably more, upon an average than it comes to, as the following facts would seemingly illustrate. The high sheriff of an almighty small settlement in Indiana, who had arose to that tall niche in official duty, from the mere lees of pettifogging, knowing the law, and feeling his oats, determined to do his duty up to the handle; and under these circumstances, he lit upon all transgressors of the statutes of his country, with the “ dead set” of a possum on a June bug. Fate, an old sorrel horse, with a Yankee wagon stowed with notions, brought an adventurous son of New England out upon the aforesaid high sheriff’s beat, and as th®^ sheriff was particularly pandemonium on hawkers afed pedlars without license, he no sooner espied a pedlar’s wagon, or a I>iitchman with a pack, than he would “ drop all” and board such craft plump! For the sake of abbreviation, we shall call the high sheriff Nick-em. Nickem one morning, sees an old sorrel, hitched to a “ yaller” wagon, coming up the road! So out he sallies, and soon overhauls the wagon and its contents. “ Fine mornin,” said Nickem, reining up his na^ in front of the pedlar’s wagon. “ ’Tis pooty fine, I guess, for your wooden country,” said the pedlar. “ \V hat have you got to sell ? any thing ?” said'the sheriff, “ Guess 1 hev a few notions, one sort or uther. What yeou like tu hev ? Got some rale slick raze-surs, and some prime strops ; Tin article I guess you want, Squire, by look o’ yer beard. And here’s some rale gen-oo-wine paste blackin’—make them old cowhide beoots o’ yourn shine like a dollar.” “ Thank you,” said Nickem, “ I don’t use blacking; grease is better, we allow, out this way. But what’s that stuff in the bottles thar—is it good to take ?” contiiuied he, pointing to a lot of labelled bottles. “ Well 1 guess, Squire, its sort o’ good; it’s balm of Columby; good for the “ har,” and cures the belly ache; all nation fine stuff for assistin’ “ poor human natur,” as the poet says, in the affairs of life. A-n-d such stuff for expanding the ideas, and causin’ ’em to flow spontenaciously! Knew a feller once who took on a 4th of July, a-n-d scissors! didn’t he make a speech!—Daniel Webster and Henry Clay got ashamed of themselves, and went clear hum ! Fact, by golly !” “ What d’ye ask for it ?” inquired Nick- ). “ A dollar a bottle’s the price. Squire, but seein’ its yeou, guess I’ll let yeou hev it for seventy-five cents. Cheap as dirt, ain’t it?” “ Well, I reckon i’ll take a bottle; thar’s the change,” said Nickem. “ And there’s the balm of Columby.— Haint thar nothin’ else in my line to-day. Squire ?” said the composed and vivacious Yankee. « B’lieve not, oh! yes, now 1 think of it, stranger, have you got a license for peddling in this State?” said Nickem, coming to business. “ Guess I hev. Squire, may be yeou’d like to see it?'’ ‘ Well, stranger, seeiq* as I’m the high sheriff of this county, I reckon I shall trouble you to show your license.” “ O h! certain, certain. Squire, yeou kin see i t ; thar it is, all fixed up in black and white, nice as wax, ain’t it ?” “ It’s all right, perfectly right,” said Nickem, folding up the document and handing it back to the pedlar, and he added, “ I don’t know, now that I’ve bought this stuff that I keer anything about it. 1 reckon I may as well sell it to you again; what’ll you give for it ?” “ O, 1 deon’t know that the darn’d stuff’s any use to me, but seein’ its you, sheriff. I’ll give yeou thirty-seven-and-a-half cents for it,” quietly responded the pedler. The high sheriff handed over the bottle, and received the change, when the pedler observed—“ I say, yeou, guess I’ve a question to ask just neow, hev yeou got a pedlar's license about yeour trowsers ?” “Me? No, 1 hav’nt use for the article myself,” said Nickem. “ Hain’t eh ? Well, I guess we’ll see about that pooty darn’d soon, E f I understand the law, neow its a clear case that yeou’ve been a tradin’ with me, hawkin’ and ped-lin’ Balm of Columby on the high-way, and I shall inform on yeou—I’ll be darn’d ef I don’t!” Beaching the town, the Yankee pedlar was as good as his word, and the high sheriff was niched and fined for ‘peddling without a license! The sheriff was heard to say, you might as well try to hold a greased eel, as a live Yankee!— Yankee Blade. Yankee Decision. Sometime between the y e a r 1812 and 1814, when considerable animosity existed between the people of Canada and the United States, and when some of the British subjects were “ dressed with a little bj’ief authority,” looked upon the Yankees as little better than brutes—the following is said to have taken place at the custom house at St. .Tohns: A Yankee of considerable dimensions entered the office and informed the officer, that he wished to enter his load and receive a passport. The officer cast a sarcastic look at him, and said it was customary for people when they entered his office to receive passports, to take off their hats, and he requested him to do it instantly. “ No! 1 thank you,” said the Yankee, “ I paid four dollars for that hat to keep ray head and ears warm.” “ You impertinent pitppy/’ said the officer, working himself into a considerable passion, “ how dare you insult me ? Off with 5'our hat immediately.” “ No, sir, can’t do it, keeps my head proper w^arm. After several orders of a similar kind, accompanied with curses and threats, which met no better success, he stepped up to him, and gave his hat a blow, and pent it to an adjacent corner of the room. The Yankee paid no attention to this, but waited patiently until he had received his passport, folded and safely deposited it within his wallet, and was ready to pursue his journey, when turning to the officer, he requested him to pick up his hat and put it upon his head. The officer, who was wroth, ordered him to leave the office; or he might get into trouble—for he did not make words with a man of his description. « I say, mister!” aaid the Yankee, “ you must pick up my hat, and that at just one minute’s time, or feel the weight of these mauls” shaking his fist nearer his lordship’s face than was agreeable. The officer raved and swore, all to no effect, and threatened to cane him if he did not depart. “ Mister,” said the Yankee, “ time flies considerable kinder fast ;” and at the same time beginning to unbutton his coat, “ and you had better be going after that hatj” After several more threats which had the desired effect upon his opponent, and the time being nearly expired, he sneaked off and picked up the hat, and offered it to its owner ; but he was not satisfied with that, and ordered him to put it on his head precisely as he found it. The officer hesitated, but seeing the determination of the Yankee, he set it on his head, and was about to depart, when he was collared, and ordered to place it as he found it. « Here I” says the Yankee, “ tuck this hat under, pull it more in, in front,” &c.— All of which orders the officer reluctantly fulfilled. “ There, sir, that’s about right,” says the Yankee, “ and now, friend, before 1 leave you, I will give you a word of advice— never meddle with a Yankee’s hat, unless you are prepared to take a peep into futurity. Good day, sir.” The Rich Man’s Wa ofes. Green Tea and Black Tea. There are two or three opinions common i in the United States about green tea, which i are great mistakes. One is, that the Chi- I nese themselves do riot use green tea. This I is a mistake. But they don’t use such green tea as is used in England and America.— ' They most commonly pick out the fine and dried parts, and separate them, calling one gunpowder, and another hyson, and another hyson skin. The second mistake is, that the green tea is made by roasting it on copper plates, which turn it green, and give it its sharp astringent qualities. All the tea made about Zeetung (a good many thousand pounds) is fried in iron pans. But if the Chinese don’t make green tea on copper pans, they do what is a great deal worse. They mix Prussian blue with what is sold to foreigners, which gives it the greenish blue color it so often has, and something of its astringent qualities. Prus-si «n blue is poison; and the only reason why green tea does those who use it at home so little harm is, that it requires but a small quantity to color a large amount of the tea. But still, small as the quantity is, it does harm ; and the people not accustomed to the use of green tea, can hardly sleep after drinking it. You may almost always tell whether there is anj' Prussian blue in the tea, by drawing off the infusion, and placing it in a white cup. If the infusion is perfectly clear, it is all right; but if it has a dirty appearance, as if there was some coloring matter suspended in it, then there is some of the Prussian blue, or something else there. The Chinese put the Prussian blue and such stuffs in the tea, as foreigners have taken a notion that green tea is not green tea unless it is very green. People in England and America don’t like green tea, such as the Chinese use, and won’t buy it. Well, the Chinese are very accommodating people and they laugh in their big sleeves, and say, “ Since the foreigners want very green tea, we’ll give it to them; but they must pay us a little more for making it so green.” Little green tea goes to the United States, that has not more or less of Prussian blue, or some other drug added to give it a higher color. The foreigners who live in China very seldom drink green tea, and use none but the black. It is very much better, and has not the same stimulating effect on the nerves that many people suffer from when they drink the green. Where so much green tea is raised, black tea is more used by the people, though the greater part of what is used by the mass of the people, is very coarse indeed, and not halt so good as our common sassafras tea. Several gentlemen on board a steamboat on a southern river, were noticing and commenting upon the plantations they were passing. One of them addressed a plain and rusty looking man who stood near him, and enquired who owned the elegant place then in sight. “ Mr. Johnson,” was the reply. “ Well, Mr. J. has a splendid farm then,” returned the gentleman. Presently, another plantation, with its buildings, attracted the attention of those gentlemen, and the rough looking man was again applied to for the name of the proprietor. “ Mr. Johnson is the owner,” answered he. “ Indeed, the same man that owns the other ?” “ Yes, the same.” “ What a fortunate man this Mr. Johnson must be to have too such establishments as these ?” A thij^, a fourth, and Teven a fifth plantation fell under the notice of the gentlemen, and in reply to their question, they were informed that they also belonged to Mr. Johnson. “And who takes care of all these farms for Mr. Johnson?” they inquired. “ I take care of them,” answered the plain looking man. “ Well, it must be a great deal of trouble, and he ought to pay you well for it.” “ He does not, if he ought,” said the man.— “ What does he give you ?” asked the gentlemen. “ He only gives me victuals and clothes !” said the man who happened to he Mr. Johnson himself. “ Only your victuals and clothes for doing all th a t! well he is a mean fellow now !” A younger brother had espoused an old, ill-tempered, wife, but extremely rich. He used to say, ‘ Whenever I find my wife cross, and my own temper giving way, I retire to my library, and console myself by reading her marriage settlement.’ Post Office Law. Bad Luck.—The secret of bad luck lies in bad habits or bad management, much more than in accidental circumstances.— Generally those who complain most of Dame Fortune’s frowns, are those who have done least to merit her smiles. Says a writer of much experience in the world: “ 1 never knew an early rising, hard working, prudent man, careful of his earnings, and strictly honest, who complained of bad luck. A good character, good habits, and iron industry, are impregnable to the assaults of all the ill luek that fools ever dreamt of. Poor Way to Get a House. A very poor way to get a house, and sometimes losing it, is this. A young man with, say $200, in his pocket, bargains for a house and lot worth $1200. He pays down his $200, and gives his note for the $1000— Ijinding himself to pay $100 a year, for ten years. Besides his one hundred dollars, he must pay interest money—the first year sixty, the next fifty-four, the next forty-eight, and so down along, until his house is paid for, and until he has paid interest money to the amount of three hundred and thirty dollars—more than one year's wages at one dollar per day. He has paid in the time, probably, not one farthing less than this sum for repairs of his house and lo t; and in the end has got a house already growing old, and worth very much less, unless the rise in property has been consirterable more than what he gave for it. Perhaps some mis-step of his own, or deranged in the business worldj or sickness in his family upsets all his plans at the end of eight or nine years, and he loses his house, his lot, and his ambition. At best, he makes a slave of himself for ten years—is continually tied downrto a single location-—and is in constant fear of losing everything by some mishap which otherwise he would scarcely feel.j How much better off he would have been, had he put those $200 at interest, and kept them there for these ten years adding a hundred dollars and interest accruing to the sum annually. A t the end or the first year the $200 would have become $212; add $100, and he has $312 to draw interest the second year. Keep on way, and at the end of ten years he finds himself the possessor of ‘ sixteen hundred and seventy-six dollars’—enough to purchase a small house and lot, and new furniture, for the former. He has paid rent, it is true, but nothing for repairs and no interest money. ’ These two items would amount to $66 per year in the first case we suppose, and this sum will hire as good a tenement as one generally finds in a house' that can be purchased for $1200. But this is not all— the man has been free—free from debt, free to go where he pleased, and independent.- He has not risked the loss of his property by a feilure to meet his payments; and he has not troubled or frett^when there has been sickness or mishaps in his family. Why is France in a state’ of national bankruptcy f Because she has just parted with her last soverei^. Be it enacted hy^he Senate and llouse of Bepresentmaes of > th» United States of America, in Congress assembled. That from and aftehr the first day of July next, all newspapers^ of no greater size or supers ficies than n in ^ e n hundred square inches, may be transmitted through the mail by the editors or publishers thereof to all subscribers or other persons within the county, or within thirty miles of the city, town or other place in which the paper is, or may be printed, free of any charge for postage whatever. ' 2. All newspapers of the sjze aforesaid, sent from the office of publication, and which shall be conveyed in the mail any distance beyond the county, or beyond thirty miles from the place at which the same may be printed, and not over one hundred miles, shall be subject to, and charged with a postage of one half cent, and of one cent for any greater distance: Provided, That the postage of a single newspaper of the size aforesaid, from any one place to another in the same State, shall not exceed one half cent. 3. Upon all newspapers of a greater size or superficial extent than nineteen hundred square inches, sent from the office of publication, there shall be charged and collected the same rates of postage as are prescribed by this act, to be charged on magazines and pamphlets. And upon all newspapers of a less size or superficial extent than five hundred square inches, sent from the office aforesaid, there shall be charged and collected a uniform rate of one-fourth of a cent for all distances within or without the State in which they may be published : Provided, however. That they may be transmitted free of postage through the mail within the county or within thirty miles of place of publication, according to the provisions of the first section of this act. 4. All printed or lithographed circulars and handbills, or advertisements, printed or lithographed on quai-to post, of single cap paper, or paper not larger than single cap, folded, directed, and unsealed, shall be charged with postage at the rate of one cent for each sheet, and no more, whatever may be the distance the same may be sent. 5. All pamphlets, magazines, periodicals, and every other kind and description of printed or other matter, except newspapers, which shall be unconnected with any manuscript communication whatever, and which it is, or may be lawful to transmit by mall, shall be charged with postage a t the rate of two cents for each copy sent, of no greater weight than one ounce, and one cent additional shall be charged for each additional ounce of the weight of any such pamphlet, magazine, matter, or thing which may be transmitted through the mail, whatever be the distance the same maybe sent; and any fractional excess of not less than one-half of an ounce in the weight of any such matter or thing, above one or more ounces, shall be charged for as if said iexcess amounted to a full half ounce, 6. Tne publishers of all pamphlets, magazines, and periodicals, may send one copy of the same to each and every other publisher of a work of the like kind within the United States, free of postage, as is now provided for by law in regard to free exchanges between the publishers of newspapers, under such regulations as the Postmaster General shall provide. 7. All newspapers not sent from the office of publication, §nd all hand bills or circulars printed, or lithographed, not exceeding one sheet, shall be subject to two cents postage each for any distance, to be paid when deposited in any post office to be conveyed by mail, and all such postages shall be received and rated in the settlement of the accounts of postmasters as newspaper, and not as letter postage. 6, All acts, or parts of acts, which come in conflict with the provisions of this act, be, and the same are hereby repealed. Horrible Development.—The fate of Miss Sarah Furber, the factory girl of Manchester, N. H., has been ascertained. It appears that she was the victim of seduction. She afterwards was under treatment by the father of her seducer, Dr. Mc- Nabb of Manchester, and died in consequence ! The body was then placed in a box while warm, brought to this city, by the doctor himself, and sold to a physician with an assurance that all was right. When the bodyi*vas taken to a dissecting room, it was ascertained by the surgeon, that there had been foul play, in the matter and|||e ordered Dr. McNabb to take it away immediately. The doctor then went to the porter of the Hospital and offered him $5 to dispose ‘of the body, and suggestedlo him the expediency of doing it by cutting it to pieces —and throwing it into the vaults! To th is^ e consent^, but instead, he embalmed t l ^ ^ d y , and informed the police. Dr. McNabb, his son and a portrait painter, named I n g a l l s , have been arrested, as implicated in the affair. ir The body was packed in ftoa and a half feet square, and sold $7s The porter has now, in his possession t h ^ 5 bill, paid to hiin“jby Dr. McNibb.—^deton i^raveller. The Pen. The pen is an instrumant power'._r The sword thirsts for blood; tbM^yonei and canlion for devastation aiid death<_ The empire of the pen is the. empire peace. The glory of the field would gtf out on the very spot where tiie blaze of sanguinary strife had lighted it up, if the' pen did not come to its aid, and chroniclifr' the deeds of daring and valor by which i t seeks the plaudits of an admiring woriib-“ What woiud have become of the great act? of the great Bonapatte, if the life-like peu of history had not followed his brilluuitt out* blood-stained footsteps, kept a Hrftehful,, wakeful eye on the triumphant prdgress of his victorious armies^ and marked o»t characters of light, the great achievements by which he earned the titles of kiiig, emperor and conqueror, dashed thrones to atoms, brought kingdoms into submission his will, and trampled on crowns and coronets and sceptres, and then died an exile onr the barren billow-beaten rock, where a com^ bination of treacherous, dastardly enemies^ had confined him. Napoleon’s glory, won by his invincible arm, his unconquerabler energy, his matchless intellect, his ^ a f heart, has been kept alive by the e£fbrfii the pen. The pen of history chronic^Ht the world’s events; the pen of pdefiy makes music for the world’s enraptured . ear. The pen and the tongue n Je ther great empire of men’s actions, sympathies/ aspirations, and hopes. A Touch at the Sublime.-—During the* last war with Great (?) Britain, an officer the Army, having been superseded, tendered his commission to the War Department^ —accompanied with the following obserra-' tions :—“ I would not have th e h o n o ra l^ Secretary of War think, that by wMrigning my commission, I intend to quit the sertMor of my country ; for I hope again to enter' the tented field, ^ield the glittering steel, and carve to myself a name that diaU pror*- my country’s neglect; and when this fraif clay shall be closeted in the dust, and the soul shall wing its way to immortalify. I I I pass by the pale-faced Moon, hang my hat on the brilliant Mars, and demand firont him* a passport through all tributary p lan e ts^ and when arrived at the portals of heaven V high Chancery, ril demand of an attendant- Angel, to be ushered into the immedi^cr' presence of the immortal Washii^tom f* • Marriage and Health.—In com pany the ages of the married and single, the 8 ^ ' gle were computed from the age of twenty*^ two years; that of the married, from the of sixteen in the female, and seventeen m the male, the lowest age at which any mar-' ried person died. The calculations nve • • the mean age at death of the m a rried ^, 5^ years ; mean age at death of the si^^W 43, < 18 years; showing a difference in favor of^ the married, to the extent of about fifteen* years. The difference was stiH greater between the mean ages of the married and singles males—being for the married’^males 56, 69^ years, and for the single males, only 38, 22- years.—Scientific American. Curious Icelandic Custom.—The landers have a curious custom, and a moit efficient one of preventing horses &om straying, which we believe is peculiar to Hnt island. Two gentlemen, for instance^ are riding together, without attendance, and wishing to alight for the purpose of visiting some object at a distance from the road, they tie the head of one horse to the tail r f another, and the head of t ^ to the tail of the former. In this state it is ntteriv impossible that they ca|» move on, either Mdt> wards or forwards, one pulling one way and the other another, and therefore, if disposed te move at all, it wiU be only in a circle^ and even then, there must be an agreement to turn thmr heads the same way, A Chinese Anecdote.—A mandarin, who took much pride in appearing with a number of jewels on every^ part of his robe, was once accosted by an old sly Booi; wIkiv following through several streets^and bowing often to theCTOund, thanked him fo r his jewels. “ Vi^at does the man mean t* cried the mandarin. ** Friend* I never gave thee any of my jewels.” “ No,** replied the other; ** but you have let toe look at them, and that is aU the use you can make of them yourself; so-there is no difference between us, except that you have the trouble of watching them, and that i« an employment 1 don’t like. Segar-smoking in the streets, and almost every where else, says a correspondent of the Boston Traveller, is carried to a most absurd extent in New York# Often in public processions, I have seen monated officers and privates witb sagaxs £n their mouths; and weU dressed Walking with ladies, not unfrMuently are seen |ra^ fing in B r o ^ i ^ . B at yeatexday 1 saw the climix d n u l smoking. A loM iVtte-ral processicm: was seen passing bjjr the Park, up Chatham street, and the driver of the hearse mounted in front of thecoffin* was smoking his cigar as unconcenrtd n d v liesurely as i r i t was a holiday! The population of Texas at the' present time, is estimated to be 143,009.
|Title||Litchfield Republican, 1848-06-29|
|Uniform Title||Litchfield Republican (Litchfield, Conn. : 1847)|
|Subject||Litchfield (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Daily (Except Sunday); Publication dates: Vol. 7, no. 2358 (Oct. 11, 1855) -v. 21, no. 6546 (Aug. 27, 1868); Notes: Publishers Ruddock & Tibbits, 1866-1868; Published a morning edition in 1865; Weekly eds.: Weekly Democrat (New London, Conn.), 1855-<Feb. 7, 1857>, and: New London Democrat (New London, Conn.), <Feb. 8, 1862>-1868|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.N7 S73|
|Relation||Other edition: Weekly Democrat (New London, Conn.); New London Democrat (New London, Conn.: 1861); Preceding title: Daily star (New London, Conn. : 1851); Succeeding title: Daily star (New London, Conn. : 1868)|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproduction and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||Issues for July 18, 1867-1868 published as New London daily star|
|CONTENTdm file name||10712.cpd|
^ ifamilg Nctugpopcr; S3tP(itci> to |)oiitic0, iltigcttlanjj, ^gricitUurc, auir ®ei^ttaL3nk^cn«.
W. P. & G. H. BALDWIN, Proprietors.
HENRY WARD) ;fiditor»~TerHis—$1,25 P#r Unmmm.
VOL. 2. LITCHFIELD, (CONN.) JUNE 29, 1848.
Gen. Butler a Poet
A firiend acd professional gentleman handed us
the other day, the following exquisite little gem,
ifHiieh we hasten to lay before the admirers of the
^MautiTul in poetry:
" It appears, (says a recent able Journal,) that
the gallant soldier and elevated statesman, Gen.
W*t. O. BtTTLEK, the Democratic nominee for
Vice President, is also a poet, brave as a lion—
gentle as a lamb.”
The New Mirror, (the best literary paf>er in the
Western World,) says :
“ General Butler is a poet, as well as a sddier
and democrat, and will draw hard upon tlie sympathies
of the literary classes."
“ In confirmation of tliis, we find the following
beautiful poem in our casket of gathered gems,
from rarious shoi-es:
The Boat Horn:
BY GIN. W. O. BUTI.ER.
O, boatman, wind that born again,
For never did the list’ning air
Upon its lambent bosom bear
So wild, so soft, so sweet a strain!
What though thy notes are sad and fuw,
By every simple boatman blown,
Yet is each pulse to nature true,
And melody in every tone.
How oft in boyhood’s joyful day,
Unmindful of the lapsing hours.
I ’ve loitered on my homeward way,
By wild Ohio’s brink of flowers,
While some lone boatman from the deck,
Poured his soft numbers to that tide,
As if to charm from storm and wreck.
The boat where all his fortunes ride!
Delighted Nature drank the sound,
Enchanted—Echo bore it round,
In whispers soft, and softer st^l.
From hill to plain, and plain to hill,
Till e’en the thoughtless frolic boy,
Elate with hope, and wild with joy,
Who gambolled by the river’s side,
And sported with the fretting tid^
Feels something new pervade his breast.
Change his light step, re|M«sE his jest,
B»>nds o'er (he flood liie eager ear,
To catch tlie sounds far off, yet dear—
Drinks the sweet dftught.but knows not why
The tear of rapture fills his eye.
And can he now, to manhood grown.
Tell why those simple notes so lone.
As on the ravished ear they fell.
Bind every sense in magic spell 1
There is a tide of feeling given
To ail on earth; iu fountain Heaven,
Beginning with the dewy flower,
Justope’d in Flora’s vernal bower—
Rising creation’s orders through,
Withioudermurmur, brighter hue; «
' Tis sympathy! its ebb and flow,'
Gives life its hoes, its joy and woe.
Music, the spirit that can move
Its waves to war, or lull to love—
Can cheer the sailor mid the wave.
And bid him on, nor fear the grave—
Inspire the pilgrim on his road,<
And elevate his soul to God.
Then, boatman, wind that horn again !
Though much of sorrow mark it* strain,
Yet are its notes to sorrow deai*;
What though tliey Wake fond mem’ry^Wfear !
Tears are sad mem’ry’s sacred feast,
Aod rapture ofl her chosen guest.
From the N. O. Commercial Times.
The Fisher’s Glee;
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