CALVIN H. WILEY
A SOUTHEM FAMILY 1EWSPAPEE NEUTEAL L POLITICS.
TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM
DEVOTED TO AIL THE IWTBRESTS OF WORTH CAROLINA, LITEBATURE, NEWS, ; EDUCATION, AERICDLTDRE, THE MARKETS, ETC.
RALEIGH, XORTH CAROLINA, SATURDAY, APRIL 10, 1852.
TRTJE COURAGE A TALE OF TATTEfi
;:t; ! .. - SHALL CASTLE;- I j
-1 tie sumraer of 183 , a party of gay young
(oll-iaiis visited Tattershall (fas-tie, in Lmcolnshire.
.Tliisreiiiarkablv. noble ruin consists of a single lofty
keep; rising to" the height of two hundred feet, the j
iiiiierior b.-ihg-'open iioiu summit to, .basement. r
KiVdity oaken- beams, once, however, spanned tU
Jmasive walls, supporting floor's which formed stories
or these beams have
1 . 1 T
r,;t , vipi in' hoio liK Al Mil V
yien to tle fment,co7ui!otely .rotten, through Jusea lrew himself iip to his full.: height
shameful exposure to the weather over since the
roofcrniiibleuaw;av ;: others still pertinaciously hang
more r ie,ss oroiM-U .miiu uecu t-u, uui,, m Hjuajoiny
.rX -in-tanres. yeem as it a strong trust ot
Switid w.o.hld senjf them down crashing, to
auiehts with those already mouldering be-
low., : V - "
...-'T ift ivmttt Wt'rt' Uflll'm StUTitS
old-wines', and their ; voting bjo
made the least false step--had his footing slipped
on the slimy surface of the beam -had he tripped
against any one of the knots projecting from the
rotten wood which had mouldered away abound
them'-f-at once ' would-he have been hurled into
dread eternity'. ! '
But an unseen hand sustained him, and safely he
reached the extremity of the beam," ruthlessly
wrenched the trembling owl from its perch, . waved
it Aloft hi triumph, and then, with a proud ejacula
tion, began to retrace li is steps, with it shrieking
and fluttering in his hands. When he reached the
centre of the frail beam, Which creaked and bent
terribly with his comparatively small weight, he
above, air beneath, air all around, naught but air
and deliberately tore the head of the owl by. main
force from its bodv. Having perpetrated this cruel
eddying 5 deed, he tossed the bloody head among the breath
mill fie 'ess spectators, and sharply dashed the writbin'c
1 . 1 - ' -i ' il. ' -. " 1 1 .V 'l. i j. TT 11
They had drunk
T li . . 1 1 - . 1
oa riowea noil v in
had laughed,1 joked,' and talked
it. About half wav,
up iu the. castle turrets there i.-i a sort of open land
ing, which goes along one. wall ot tlie structure,;
and n to 'this"' hi riding the party stepped5-from the
Wand spiral st;irease they.'haj hitherto been as
cending, and the re paused a moment to. look about
thfcin. The scene was striking, A tew beams sprung
aejrosi just below their feet'; a few thick-moted
riivs of tun pieijeed through the adjoining loop
holes; a tew frleeey cloudlets flitted athwart the
bine ether, high -overhead.. Staffed by the noisy
'xfeitbrsj'ji. number of dusky jackdaws flew , out of
their holes up and .'down, the walls," and, after ehat-
- tering their 'decided 'disapprobation of being dis
turbed, made half-a-dozen whirling circuits of the
interior, rising rapidly upward, until they disap-
Upeated. . I . , ' ' ;' ; ,
j '; Inmiediabiy afterwards,' a great white owl pro
jected it's visage from a hole close above where, one
j of the beaiiis- jc inexl the opposite wall, and, fright-
- cdly peering witli its great dazzled eyes, the harjn
less creature bevilderedly popped from its hole on
to the beam, and having made a . few feeble flutter
mgs with its "tvings, remained - quite stationary,
,crouched on a ball-like figure, close'to the wall. ;
."Oh. Deschamr)." exclaiuied one ;of the party to
a friend at his s le, who was plucking the long gray,
moss of a peculiar species, which literally clothes
the castle Wail iiside and out, 4i look yonder at. Mi
Aiier'va's bird." -r - ! :
bleow.H" t ' -' f '
' Thereupon O ie and all began picking up bits of
brick and mortar from' w here the.y stood, and threw
them at the bird w ith various decrees of skill. One
or two bits even -struck it, but so far from being
"roused thereby, ''the owl merely gaVe one boding,
llong-lrawn sepulchral screech, and, contracting its
ghastly outline jrito still smaller jjo'Pipass, fairly
buried its broad visage between the meeting bony
tips. of hs wingsi- - " ' ; .' ; :.
i ' W-hat a stupi.l creature ! boo ! : koroo !" shout-
e. tl.iey, thinking. by that means to induce it to fly
A THRILLING STORY.
A QUEER BED-FELLOW.
Aa Incident of Christmas Eve.
-l!ut the outcr'v
1 decay edHimbe
'only terrified the bird to such a de-
stuck its. claws "eonvulsively into the
mid stirred not at all
;. '-It's the w:
guide, who wa
.W': of -them creeturs," here said the,
-showing the party over tne c;.isite ,
the stupidest things in creation', Tm
i;'inin to be 1;
"lint i say, old
switch he can-
ten one f
' it, sir," replie
; disdain sweep
the "old fellow
did vuti ever
muttered Lord Swindon, a handsome.
in in. of twenty, "'with' such aiiex-
eves , we ca.nnotl but admit your
i i glily phitosi pl i ic a:ii.Uiifel isputable.
t.-liow, ndded he, t:
tlip. shoulder with
et .in his hand, "Vis that, beam a rot-
the light riding
t be over-tor ard to ! trust mvselt on.
i ;- - - I
the man- a. tat luniii)V personage.
vvouMh't : f.Xo; - . sh'ould- rather think
'd Ilord Swindon, a jmiile of supreme
ng across bis features, as hesurveved
from head to iA. " 1 ut," tell ine,
know any -baity waik.npon it, eh V
vesr j Onlv "last simmer, a yoiing
rom end to end of.it, as I
mv own eyesj
. .."Tru.'? pi t iii Deschamp
M was. voting
he brag aboil
the. head ; tl
tin tied he,-ha
oeh :' .
i ou a m
''T. remember now,
bodv into the void beneath his feet. He coollv
watched its descent, until it lay a shapeless mass on
the stones below ; then, with a slow, bravadoing
mien, he walked back to his terrified, .party, and
boastingly demanded of them whether they thought
" Maijners could beat that ?"
"My lord," solehinjy said the 'stranger, "you
have not performed the act either of a brave or a
sane man, - and you- have committed a -despicable
deed on one ot God's helpless creatures. You
ought to thank Him, 'my lord, fiQixi the depth 6f
your.soul,.that he saved you from the penalty yoir
" What do you say ?" fiercely demanded Lord
Swindon. "Do you dare to insinuate cowardice
against me V and and with flashing brow, he as
sumed a threatning attitude. . .'."'.
" 1 know not, iny lord, whether you are brave or
.not, but what I have witnessed was certainly not
an exercise of true courage," was the passionless re
daren't do it." ' ' . ;
"True,' I dare "not: for I am incapable of Offer
ing a deadly insuit to my Maker." .
. "Fine words H' r Then, carried away by the ex
citement of the moment, he added, with an inso
lent look and gesture, "You are a lying coward."
" Listen, my lord," answered the person thus ad
dressed, and this time , his tone was even calmer
than before. -; " One year ago, you were walking at
the midnight hour on the pier at the sea-port of
Hull, and but one other person was upon it, and he
was a stranger to you. You trod too near the edge
of the pier, and fell into the sea. The tempest was
howling, and'the tide was high and running strong
ly ; and," ere you could utter more than one smoth
ered cry, it had swept you many yards away, and
you were sinking Tapidly. Except God, none but
that granger heard your cry of agony ; and, soon
as it reached his ear, he looked forth upon the wa
ters, and, catching a glimpse of your struggling
torm, he. instantly plunged in, and, after much di
ving; eventualby grasped you at a great depth.
Loug did he- support your helpless btdy, and stout
ly did he buffet the stifling waves, and loudly did
he call' for aid. At length help came ; and at the
last moment, he and you were saved just in4ime
for life to be preserved in both. Is not this true,
my lord?" ' .-' '
" It is,"; emphatically, responded the young no
bleman ; " but .what have you to do with it ? I don't
know you though it is not at all wonderful," added
-he, with a sneer, " that you should happen to know
about the matter, for the newspapers blazoned it
piite sufficiently:" , ' '
" My, lord, one- question more. Did you ever
learn who that stranger was who, under God, saved
your life"-?" ' . ... ;
" Xo ; wdien I recovered a little he left me at the
hotel, where he was unknown, and I have never
seen him since." ' !
"Then, my lord" was "-the startling rejoinder.
" look well at m for I am that stranger.'1
;" Yotl.' '" - '
'es I who. you have' branded as a liar and a
coward. Little thought I that the life I saved at
the imminent risk of my own would be madly,
wickedly jeopardized for no price whatever, as- I
have' seen it this hour. Mine, my lord, was true
courage ; yours was false. Henceforth know the
i-:. . i i 11 "
tiueience utiween lueiu. i itieeo.
So saying, the stranger bowed, and before another
word could be uttered, had left the astoundejd
party. -'."' '" ' T !'
Christmas was come, and Washingley Hall was
filled with guests. I know no country house in
which I would sooner have passed that cheerful
season. Sir George was hospitality itself: and as
for Ladv Stanley, her -frank manners and natural !
amiability of disposition completely won the hearts j
of all her visitors; Avhile their family of happy j
children from blooming, blushing Fanny of sweet j
seventeen, and Master Harry, who was just begin- !
uino- to think about shaving, down to blue-eved
Trotty w ho was the pet of every one and the pri
vileged romp of the family, all reflected their pa
rent's goodness, and made that merry music in a
house without which Christmas would not be com
plete. We were a large party at the hall, and had
tested its ample accommodation to the uttermost.
All the dressing-rooms pressed into use for us bach
elors, and even the sacred ness of the house-keeper's
still-room was desecrated and converted into a spe
cies of barracks for "the young gentleman." The
ladiek, it. was rumored, had made compacts of part
nership, and thus it was, as we afterwards learned,;
that Fanny Stanley ' shared Helen Warrington's
bed. The greater part' of the guests, Helen and her
brother among the rest, did not arrive until Christmas-eve,
so that our dinner on that night was our
first general meeting, and passed oil' right merrily.
AVhen the Christmas romps with the children
were oyer, and the mistletoe had been put up, and
"the girls all kissed," (as Tennyson observes with
such collective unction,) and when the juveniles
had 'been posted off to their night-barracks, we all
drew around the spacious lire-place, and, while the
yule-log blazed bright and cheerily, told Christmas
stories, in which ghosts were as plentiful , as black
berries. In one tale that was tlhcjn told, the hero belong
ed to a family in whieli insanity was hereditary, and
(as is commonly the case in such circumstances,)
appeared only ia alternate generations ; and thus,
in the family mentioned, the sane son of a madman
invariably became the father of a madman. 1
forget now who related the. storv, of which this
was the theme, but I remember it was some one
who had not met the Warringtons before, and was
ignOraut of the fact that Helen's grandfather had
died in an asylum, and that she herself had, some
years previously, when at school, been " in a low
wav," sufficient to cause; at that time, considerable
anxiety to her mother. .This, however, was not
' know n to the narrator of the story, and, indeed,
was not remembered by those present, until after
-r 111... . 1 ' " " .1 TT 1 " "IT T
events recalled it to tneir memory; ana xieien v ar
rington, too, was at that time a fine, handsome,
merry-hearted girl, and one of the acknowledged
belles of the county. What effect the tale may, ;
have had upon her, no one could then tell, as siie
sat back, in the shade of the room, which was only
lighted, by the blazing lire.
This was the last tale told, and a light supper,
(for, on the children's account, we had dined rather
early,) that was discussed amid lively: jokes -and
merriment, soon 'dissipated all the little lady-like
fears the ghost stories of the night had given rise
to ; arid the waits, and the village band soon after
coming, With their Christmas-carol serenade, we sat
for some time longer ronnd the lire, until miduight,
and the earliest dawn of the Christmas morning
had come, and their, wishing each other " a merry
Christinas," we ail said good night.
I have said that Fanny Stanley 'and Helen War
rington shared the same bed, and when, an hour
after this, their maid had left their room, two of the
loveliest faces of all the lovely ones th-at on that
night were assembled beneath the roof of Wash
ingley, pressed the laced pillows of the downy bed.
her arm high in the air, the moonlight flashed
on the shining blade of a large knife. With the
cunning of insanity she had- contrived, unseen, to
take it from the supper-table, and conceal it within ,
the folds of her dress.
When the poor girl saw the knife, she sprang
from the bed, and, with a loud scream, reached
the door, and endeavored to open it. It was lock
ed,' and the key removed. She then, in a delirium
of agony, turned and lied to the fire-place, to seize
the bell-rope and alarm the house, but only to find
the rope severed and useless. During this brief
space the white-robed figure" stood and watched her
actions apparently enjoying her despairing dis
appointment with a wild satisfaction. " Now, girl,"
it said, "you see all escape is hopeless, so ypu have
now nothing to do but to die 1" And she advanc
ed with her upraised knife, and gleaming eyes.
" O, Helen ! Helen ! spare my life ! Help !
help !" and Fanny shrieked in agony.. As she
turned, half paralysed with fear, to, fly wildly' about
the room, she espied a closet, the door of which
stood ajar, and into this she sprang, and, -with the
rapid ityof a sudden thought, drew-to the door,
shrieking' loudly for. help. There was but little
hope left for the poor girl, for the inside of the door
was not furnished with a handle, and her only chance
of keeping it closed was by fixing her fingers tight
ly around the lock, and so-pulling it towards- her.
This she did with ail the energy of desperation.
But, at the best of times, jthis would have been a
difficult thing to do ; and now that she had to
contend with the unnatural strength of a maniac,
her chance of safety was poor indeed. Fear, how
ever, and the love of life, gave a new vigor to her
frame, and sustained her in those terrible moments.
Helen had "ot the handle of the door on the out
side, and was trying to force her way in, while
Fajiny clung the more tightly and despairingly to
the lock, well knowingthat upon this depended her
safety. But, in a few seconds, the se'verity of this
exertion had bathed her hands in a clammy perspira
tion, and, with a horror scarcely to be described,
she felt that the security of her hold was relaxing.
! The door opened slowly but surely, and swung
i backwards and forwards j with her attempts to
counteract the force the maniac .was applying to it.
As the figure of Helen was thus revealed to her, her
dark hair tpssing wildly over her night-dress, and
her arm makjng thrusts with the shining blade
through the partially opened door, the courage
which had hitherto sustained her now gave way,'
her wearied hands relapsed from their hold, and,
uttering but one more piercing shriek, she fell back
senseless on the closet floor.
It so happened that the dressing-room in which,
young locust from the herbage or leaf on which
rests. The butterflies that flit about
for that night, I had been :put to sleep, joined the
bed-room in which these scenes took place. One
of Fanny's piercing shrieks had aroused me, and
I had started from my bed in terror, impressed
with the idea that the house was on lire, though
not knowing from which direction the alarm had
proceeded. ' In a moment; I had partially dressed
myself, when another and another shriek told me
too plainly from what quarter they came.
The second door of the dressing-room Avhich
opened into the bed-room would, of course, be lock
ed. Without losing time by trying this, I picked
up a heavy portmanteau,;'- which had, Voitunately,
-not. been unpacked, and swinrrinur it round me at
Adaptation of the Colors of Animals to their
Throughout the animal creation, the adaptation
of the color of the creature to its haunts is worthy
of admiration, as tending to its preservation. The
colors of insects, and of a multitude of the smaller
animals, contribute to their concealments.
Caterpillars which feed on leaves are generally
either green, or have a large proportion of that hue
in the color of their coats. As long as they remain
still, how difficult it is to distinguish a grasshopper
flowers are colored like them. The small birds
which frequent hedges have backs of a greenish or
brownish green hue, and their bellies are generally
whitish, or light colored, so as to harmonize with
the sky. Thus they become less visible to the hawk
or cat that passes above or below them. The way
farer across the fields almost treads upon the sky
lark before he sees it rise warbling to heaven's gate.
lhe goldfinch or' thistle finch passes much ot its
time among flowers, and is vividly colored accord
ingly. , The partridge can hardly be distinguished
from the fallow 'or stubble among which it crouch
es, and it is an accomplishment among sportsmen
to have a good eye for finding a hare sitting. In
northern countries, the winter dress of the hares
and patarmigans is white, to prevent detections a-
the snows of those inclement regions.
If we turn to the waters, the same desio-n js
evident. Frogs even vary their color according to
that of the mud or sand that forms the bottom of
ihe ponds or streams which they frequent nay,
the tree-frog ( ijla virldls) takes its specific name
from the color, which renders it so difficult to see
it among the leaves, where it adheres by the cupping-glass
like processess at the end of its toes. It
is the same with fish, especially those w hich inhabit
the fresh waters. Their backs, with the exception
of gold and silver fish, are comparatively dark ; and
some practice is required before theT are satisfact
orily made out, as thev come like shadows, and so
depart, under the eye of the spectator. A little bov
once called out to a friend to "come and see, for the
bottom of the brook wa's moving along." The friend
came, ?tnd saw that a thick shoal of gudgeons, and
roach, -and dace, was passing. It is difficult to de
tect "the ravenous luce," as old izaak calls the
pike, with its dark green and motled back and
sides, from the similarly-tinted weeds among w Inch
that fresh-water shark lies on the watch, as motion
less as they. Even when a tearing old trout, a six
Or seven pounder, sails, in his wantonness, leisurely
up stream, with his back fin partly above the sur
face, .on the look-out for a fly, few, except a well
entered fisherman, can tell what shadowy'form it is
that ripples the wimpling water. But the bellies of
fish are white, or nearly so; thus imitating in a de
gree the color of the sky to deceive the otter, which
generally takes its prey from below, swimming un
der the intended victim. Nor is this design less
manifest in the color and appearance of some of
the largest terrestial animals ; for the same princi
ple seems to be kept in view, whether regard be
had to the smallest insects, or the quadrupedal
riants of the land. JVote Book of a Naturalist.
THE HOLY SEPULCHRE.
The Paris "Debates" gives the following outline
Every Englishman and almost every American
speaks lightly of the French character, or rather of
the ppraonal-riagfl,n frenchman. Kli English
workman is generally uncouth' and he has little of
the polish of the French he is sulky, surly nd
often distant even w ith his own wife and children af
ter his labor, he seldom or ever joins in the festivities
of home his egotism causes him to undervalue
his wife, and therefore he spends his ' evening
either in indolent absence from thought,' or at the
ttre "c ' uc Iiever avoius a quarrel from a polite
manner,, but rather seeks to sustain his ground by
vehement stubbornness. If the English had the
nervous activity of the French without their polite-
X,.' "uul,a uwl-ijy each other like the
"Kilkenny cats." The Parisian mechanic- will
walk out ofan evening with his wife and children
and when two or three families meet on the Bonlol
vards, nothing is more common than to see the
elder of the party playing some musical instrument
for the children to "dance, and thus the light heart of
the Frenchman is sent happily to bed. &
If two Englishmen accidentally run against each
other in the street, they each demand an explana
tion of the other, ox at least look sulkily at each
other, and pass on growling like two bull-dogs.
Two Frenchmen, under sameccircumstances, would '
each bow and ask pardon. Real offence is neces
sary to make a Frenchman, quarrel. The slightest
suspicion of offence will embroil an Englishman.
A Frenchman away from home and ask how he
likes the cookery, may possibly remark that it is
different from what he has been accustomed to
and that he has not yet habituated himself to the
change. -An Englishman on the contrary, always
insists upon it that they. do: not know how to cook
out of England, and that it is all wrong. Every
Englishman thinks' he can whip two Frenchmen,
and every Frnchman politely differs from him in.
opinion. . .
The beauties of nature and of art are respected
in France flowers may be exposed and not pluck-
eu, orivs oi art exniuneu ana never defoced, the
politesse protects them. If a daisy is within arm's
lengths of a fence in England it' is palled, and even
then not to be preserved, but to ls picked to pieces.
" The roast beef of Old England " has been sung
most enthusiastically by thousands who did not
taste beef once a montb. An unfortunate English
man cannot Or will not accommodate himself to his
new estate, while even the members of tlie roval
family of France, when exiled, would readily teach
children's schools. Counts have been barbers here
in imitation of their own valets when at home!
An Englishman will despise a broken-down gentl
man if he he cleans his own boots. The jxlitesse
of France causes every citizen to cultivate hiVtaste
for the beautiful, while the less polished Eno-iish-man
calls all ornaments gcw-gaics.
Which of these two characters should Americans
Emulate ? or is there a middle course, a happy
medium to be attained. Americans abroad have
the reputation of being fault-finders and of resembl
ing the English in this particular ; avoid extremes
and follow the moderate course, should be our
the lock of the door, with one heavy, crushing blow 0f the arrangements lately made on the subject of
Manners of Brazeiiuose ; and didn't
lUn'l '.'-"elclaiined Lord Swindon, with a toss of
it teliow, poor milksop .' Aot, con-
t il v, ".that it is anything of a feat.
at murmured his companions; land,
wivh one accord. I hW sf retched forth their necks,'
and. gazing - down the dim abyss shuddered at
nat ttiey wiield: Well thev might, lhe beam
in question rose at a hei-dit of about one hundred
feet, and nauldit beneath ?t was there but a frloomv
a-oken in one or two places bv erumb-
nd not Lone even of these was by- ma1
Oh, Swindom how can vou say
l ': . ' . ' '"
ling beams ;
so r H ' ':.
' 1 can say' it, and T do,' snappishly replied the
fiery young man, his brain heated -with wine ; " and,
- at any rate, what that fellow Manners has done, I
can do. So!hok out !"
ing. ne recivless
ly stepped onthe beam,
the remonstrances of liis companions,
tvas m the ajct of proceeding along it, when his arm
rasped, and a low,; deepHoned ..voice
My lord,-do you court a horrible death ?
risk your life for naught."
idaal who thus unhesitatingly interfered
v unknown to all present, being a cas-
r t the castle, yvho had just joined the
With an imprecation, ' the madcap young-
ns arni away, ana sprang forward along
Its surf ate was rough, rounded, and un-
is ne ran along, swerving trom side to
instant in danger of: being precipitated
. J 'o hot thus
' The indiv
, u-'il visitor ttt
tlie beam. ;
'UtiWIlwAl-.l kvith rh.- nwfnT
to pieces, 'his friends could hardly restrain theiri-
terror, though such a
Avoid Hastw Conclusions. Society is like
shaded silk-; it must 'be viewed from all positions,
or its colors wilt deceive us. He who is familiar
only: with-the saloons of the " uppercrust" imagines
that fashion, feasting and amusement are the order
of tlie day with niankind ; he w hose observations
are -confined to the store and the work-shop, fancies
that life is a dreadfully dull, plodding, humdrum
affair; and he who goes mainly among the destitute
among vicious thinks 'that want, suffering, and
degradation are the lot of the human family. The
truth w'Ould lie equidistant from all these conclusions.
Society as at present constituted has its light and
dark side its extreme of luxury and misery ; but
the great mass of the people, in America at least,'
are in the enjoyment of pecuniary competence and
decided moral and intellectual advantages. We do
not pass judgment on cloth until after holding it
carefully to the light, snapping it between our fing
ers, and ascertaining if it will " wash." So we ought
not to utter dogmatic opinions about society until
after regarding it in every phrase, from the -millionaire
to the mendant.
It was not till the morrow that the maid called to
mind the flushed cheeks and wild brilliancy of Helen
Warrington's dark eyes, as she laughingly bade
her take a kiss of her young mistress, and wish her
a merry Christmas, lest she should not
clfance next year. What followed from that time,
I shall describe as it w as afterwards told to inc.
After a little .chat with Helen, . Fanny had sunk
into a slumber. How long she slept she knew not;
but. on awakening, she missed her companion from
her side, and on sitting up in bed and looking
around her, she saw
that bust open the door, and tlfrew down a dress
in tr table placed ao-ninst- it on the ' other side, I
sprang into the room.
1 hail never forget the scene. At the closet:
door was Helen Warrington, with- madness stamp
ed in every look and. action, her night-dress in
confusionand her dishevelled hair falling down
over her shoulders. Her left arm supported the
passive form of Fanny Stanley, who lay senseless
and motionless in her grasp, while her rigit wielded
the knife, w hich she: appeared about to plunge in the
white bosom on which the moonlight shone so
along the other side. of
purelv. To note all this was but the work of
instant; in another instant I was at her side.
She liad turned to meas I came up, and with a
,. ..i - r ii i r-.r..t l T .., ,.-,'1,1 1.1-
havc the ' sauueneu, reproaemui iook m oei uui
eyes, said, " ould you stand between me ana
God V Before' she could use the knife on Fanny's
form, or anticipate what I was about to do, I whirl
ed the knife out of her hand. At once she threw
j Fanny from her, and rushed to the. bedside to re
I possess herself of her weapon, but I threw myself
1, 1 l 11 1 1 : 1 a- 41,-. ,,.'. lt-Iir.ic
Helen Warrington pacing i " 1 " uel" aiK1 neiu ner iiruij) to toe uuo..
the old-fashioned bed-room" iad com8.to the door, and were trying, met equal
ly to obtain admittance. ; Amongst tnem, i necuu
Sir George's voice, calling in despair on his daugh
ter's name, .for he had recognised' her alarming
cries, and had fled along the corridor in an agony
'of terror. 1 called loudly to him to go round by
in y room, which, it seemed, in the hurried excite
ment of the moment, no one remembered as com-
Mystery Explained. Much curiosity has been
excited in some of the Eastern States, by the ap
pearance of tracks in the snow, unlike those of any
known creature. An ornithologist, writing to the
Providence Herald, says, that during this remark
ably cold :winter,'unusual numbers of birds whose
home is north, have been driven southward into
more hospitable regions. Amongst the largest of
these occasional visitors are tlie cinereons, or great
grey owl (the largest of the kind of this country,)
and the snowy owl. The former is very rarely seen ;
though it has been, in a few instances, as far south'
course would probably have had the immediate ef, of Massachusetts. The foot-prints of the latter,
tOJ1 uisuQinposing tne eqmiipnum oi ineirrasn winch is less unfrequently met with, correspond
coinJafJ24 and so inducing the. catastrophe. they i with the mysterious .tracks referred to, and it is
tulloiuitimii' wuaoui Ine power oi pre enuon. : uiougnt that a nock of them may have passeu
nturer s presence of mind one mo- i through Massachusetts and across Rhode Island m
VI l ' .li-... .. J J X ."7 i , , . . ,
i,.ms,seii-possession aim coimueucv oeniper, ana may have returned in feoruary, ac-
forsake urain &icii.eneu, coiuuig to uieir usual period ot migration to ana
' merit fttled
. wuvvred of
eves turned dil
for a single second-
-had he i from the South.
It was a beautifully-bright night, and the light of
the moonbeams shone full upon the two windows
of the room, and upon Helen walking there in her
night-dress, her cap oil, and her long black hair
streaming over her shoulders.
" Helen, dear, come to bed ! You will catch cold ;
! are vou ill ''
i The whi(te-robed figure stopped in its pacings to
and fro, and came up to the bed-side.
!- " Helen, what's the matter? How strange you
! look! You must be ill " For Helen stood there
without speaking, but looking fixedly at Fanny,
! with a strange wildness of exoiession. Fannv
i began to throw off the clothes to rise from the bed
! to assist her friend, believing her to be ill. Then
Helen .spoke 1 . '
j " Lie still, Fanny ! I am not ill, but I have come
to put an end to your life. I must kill you ?" And
her words came in a low but distinct whisper,
strangely at variance with her usual quick manner
Fanny trembled in spite of herself, and she said,
with half fear in her tone
"'Come, Helen, what nonsense ! Come to bed.
We will act charades to-morrow night."
Still the white-robed figure stood there, at the
:foot of the bed, glaring with its eyes.
I tell you," it said, " you have but a few minutes
to live ! Say your prayers, and make your peace
with God. He has sent me to destroy you '."
In . an instant, a crowd of thoughts rushed tumul
tuously through Fanny's brain ; the conversation
round the fire the tale of the madman the in
sanity ot Helen s grandfather and a hundred
other things, all with lightning speed, linked them
selves together in her . mind, and she felt that
Helen's long-concealed hereditary malady had burst
forth, and that she was mad J
Evfen then she did not lose her presence of mind ;
and, with a forced laugh, she said
" Come, He'len, dear, onie back to bed ; you
know you cannot do what you are jesting about." j
" Not kill you ! Think you so ? You are a dediev
ed, girl,"- said the white-robed figure. I provid
ed for all that, hours ago. ' Look here !" and, rais-
the IIolv places at Jerusalem, by which the Otto
man Porte has decided on restoring to the French.
. 1. The key of the outer door of the great Church
of Bethlehem and those of the side doors, so that
the Christains will no longer be the prisoners of the
Greek monks' they will be henceforth ae to en
ter and go out freely.
2. Two gardens belonging and adjoining to
the church, and which the Greeks had taken
3. In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusa
lem, the French will receive a portion of the lower
lxTffTof the seven arches of the Holy Virgin. For
f - . .1 Ti ll - L. 1 J il."
more than a century tne rrencn nave not naa me
use of the gallery built Over them.
4. The Franks and Latins will be admitted to
share in the tomb of the Holy Virgin, placed under
the brook of Cedron, in the valley ot Jehoehaphat.
5. Instead of exacting the restitution of the silver
star, stolen by the Greeks, on the 1st" November,
1847, the French shall content t hemselves by repla
cing. ifTDy another, after the departure of the nume
rous pilgrims, who will this year flock to the place
at the solemnities of Easter. By a coincidence
which onlv hannens -every four years, these
will be celebrated simultaneously by
sects in the east and west. The' French may be
sides, build a church in the mixed and neighboring
village to Bethlehem, called Beelu-Jella. They
may also repair and enlarge the small convent in
which they are kept imprisoned tor the three moiitus
municatirr' with the bed-room. Directly afterwards w hich thev. pass at the Holy Sepulchre. The same
they ioined me. It wanted no words to explain fathers may also repair their principal church ot the
j the sad tale, and poor Warrington, wdio was one of convent, in which they reside at Jerusalem. A'7'. Y.
those who had rushed in. was the first to assist me
in securing his sister. Others assisted Fanny, w ho
was still iu a swooning state, and bore her from
the room. - '
I need not pursue these distressing details furth
er. The physicians who were called in, did all they
could ; but human skill was ineffectual for one who
was now a confirmed maniac.
Poor Helen Warrington still lives in th e Asylum
in which she was placed from the first, Fanny and
I go to see her at intervals, but at no time has she
recognised us. Under the kind discipline, and hu
mane treatment Of
her days happily.
Insect Builders. Mr. Reaumer states that for
for a period of twenty years, he endeavored, with
out success, to discover the materials employed by
wasps in forming the blue, gray, papery substance,
so much used in the structure of their nests. One
day, however, he saw a female wasp alight on the
sash of a window, and it struck him, while watch
ing her gnawing away therwobd with her mandi
bles, that it was from such materials as these she
formed the substance which so long puzzled him.
He saw her detach from the wood a bundle of fibres,
about one tenth of an inch in length and finer
than a hair ; and as she did not swallow them, but
gathered them into a mass with her feet he had
doubt no but that his opinion was correct. In a"
short time .he iaw b-er shift to another part .of the
window, and carry with her the fibres which she
had collected, and to which she continued to add.
lie then caught her and began to examine her
bundle and found .that it was neither yet moistened
nor rolled into a ball, as it is always done before
used by the wasp in her building. He also noticed
that before detaching the fibres, she bruised them
into a kind of lint with her mandibles. All this he
imitated with his penknife, bruising and paring the
same Wood till it resembled the fibres collected by
the wasp ; and so he discovered how wasps manu
factured their paper; for these fibres are. kneaded
together into a kind of paste, and w hen she formed
around ball of them, she spreads it into a leaf,
nearly as thin as tissuc-apcr : and this she accom
plishes by- moving backwards, and levelling it with
her mandibles, her tongue and her teeth. And so
the wasps form paper, placing layer upon layer,
fifteen or sixteen sheet deep, and thus preventing
tne eartn irom railing down into her nest.
Dr. , she appears to pass
And, may we not hope; that
those whom God has thus been pleased to-afflict,
have an inner light of happinsss, which shines the
more brightiy, because it shines only, for them ?
As for Fanny, she has changed her name. Her
deliverer on that, terrible Christmas eve is now her
Hon, R. J.' Walker, ex-Secretary of the Trea
sury, has. been for some time ill at Ryegate, a small
town between Brighton and London, "in England.
He was, at the last accounts, said to be slowly re
covering from a very Severe and protracted illness,
one of his complaints being neuralgia. He was
accompanied by his friend General McNeil.
The German papers sav that Dr. Meinhold, the
author of the Amber Witch, has left among his
papers an ' unfinisheoanusenpt, entitled " Hagar
and the Reformation which", they add, is now in
an editor's hands, and : will be shortly given to the
Mr. Leahy, or the Monk of la Trappe-
By. an advertisement in some of the Charleston
paper's, this gentleman ' announced, not to the citi
zens at large, but to the old gentleman of Charles
ton, his intention to expose in a course ot : lectures,,
the abominations of the Roman Catholic Priest-
lood. This announcement caused quite a stir
from what we have seen in the papers. It appears
that mob violence was threatened against the re
negade monk, and also against the persons and
property of those permitting him the use of their
premises. Application was also made to the city
authorities to prohibit' the lecture. We, of course
know nothing of th merits of the case, but it real
ly does seem strange that an intelligent and res
pectable denomination of Christians should exhibit
so much passions or alarm for so trifling a cause.
W e suppose the monk can invent, nothing new to
charge the Catholics w ith. Indeed, there is not a
denomination of Christians in Christendom who
have not been the butt of ridicule, of sarcasm, and
of the most malignant slander. These they have
withstood tor eighteen centuries. hy then
should the proposed lectures of a rsnegrade, excite
so much indignation and alarm at this late day.
Has he not thus acquired a consequence an im
portance and a power he could not have otherwise
obtained. LheraiD Gazette.
Taylor, an English author, relates in his " Re
cords," that having restored to sight a -boy who had
been born blind, the lad was perpetually amusing
himself with a hand-glass, calling his own reflec
tions his " little man," and inquiring why he could
make it do every thing he did, except to shut its (yes.
A French lover making a present of a mirror to his
mistress, sent with it the following lines :
"This mirror my object of love "Will unfold,
Whensoe'er your regard it allures ;
Oh, would, when I'm gazing, that I might behold
On its surface the object of yours "
This is very delicate and pretty ; but the following .
old epigram, on the same subject, is in even a much
finer strain : . '
" When I revolve this evanescent state,
How fleeting is its form, how short its date ;
My being and my stay dependent still
Not on my own, hut on another's will :
1 ask myself, as 1 my image view,
Which is the real shadow of the two ?
Turpentine Oil. It is said that turpentine from
North Carolina is now extensively manufactured
into oil, and that an ingenious inventor has sueeed
ed in inventing a lamp in which it is said this tur-
penune on wui Durn ireeiy, giving a unuuungui
The man named Castaneda, who captured Lopez,
has returned to Cuba frora Spain, laden with honors.
The Queen gave him So000, and made him a cap
tain in the rural militia, with a salary of $110 a
month ; 10 negroes and a tract of land have been
given to him. The order of Isabel decorates his
person : his children are to be educated at the ex
pense of the Government ; and while in Spain he
was permitted the farce of kissing the hands of the
Queen and the little Princess. He can neither
read nor write, and is a perfect specimen of a vul
gar, rough, uneducated quairo, or country bumpkin.