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6 Vol. J, CAZENOVIA, NEW-YORK, WEDNESDAY, JUNE JfoiJ8._ The Madison County Whig, _l£JEJtlSLISJeLEP EVERY, WEDNESDAY, : BY W, H, PHILLIPS, Comer of Albany St., and tin Public Square. TERMS.\ To office and raail subscribers, the paper will be furnished at tt.e low price of.Osx Dtm .xaTrjrtr Firrr CrKTi,'Cash, if paid nt.t'je time nf sub scribing. I f payment bis made in Produce^ic; •Two DOLLARS will be invariably charged ; •nf Two DOLLARS \AMP Firer, CENTS per annum, if The cause of her emotion was easily ex plained by the character of her approaching visitor. The Refugees were, at that day,. Ire\ brigands of the country. Taking_ad vantage of the turmoil of the times, and of the absence of most of' the male population in the continental army, they ravaged the country at will (plundering una buriyog farm houses,- and even, in sftme instances, commit- rapidly across the forest. In less than an hour he had visited two farm hoqses and ob tained three neighbors to aid him in his de- s '\g\ : Slr iking rlghL'nto thgjh&srt of the ting personal violence upon females. TheyTBy chance from one aTfljelr gang,\ who mis- .1.. .L- . if .L ~\ . I . _ 1 r TTM -n • ) • i ' «m delayed until the f^)l[ttffliii nf thu ymir. Ail uil- ditiuoal Firrr GC«TS will be charged to those who recejve the paper by Currier. 1' No paper discontinued while jirreafages~| arcdtie, except at the option of the publisher, • 00- Letters and communications addressed to the Editor, must be POST PAID to meet will at tention. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted at $1 per square, [1<J lines] for the first three weeks, and 25 cents .lor each subsequent insertion. A liberal discount made to those who advertise byVBlffy^sr, were consequently the terror of thtfeountry. _. O f these men David Rowel, Or as he was familiarly'called, from the darkness of. his mmpltMiiuii \ Dlaik Duvy,\ was the most uu\ torious. Sometimes moving alone, and some times accompanied by others, but olwa marking his tract wifBTsome outrageThe had gained far himsolfa notoriety as wide-spread as it was terrible. It was the sight of this individual which checked the steps of the young girl, and drove her trembling, to seek refuge in her home But her fear, it t seemed', soon vanished* She-had scarcely crossed her threshhold be fore, as if actuated by some sudden recollec- tion, she hastily turned baekyond with an unshrinking face, though a beating heart, confronted the Refugee*. Whatever was her motive, her fearless demeanor abashed the renegade. He stopped and wn » silent; ' What want you—what would you have sir—why do you seek a lonely house like this at such an hour V asked the girl with flashing eyes'. The abashed Refugee had by this timest- covered his confidence, and with an easy air he whistled aloud, and then answered the girl, v * Not so fast, mistress, not so fast—we-are here after your good man, my dear, and tho' you have been married only a fortnight, or so, we must settle our account with him. I have signalled mymen, and.you see they arc com ing. We must search your house—come on, boys,' and with these words the,renegade, accompanied by three roqgh-looking men, who had just come in nnswer to his coll, pass cd into the house. The young wife—for such she was—gazed after them, and lifting hpr hands on high, murmured a thanksgiving forest,\they pushe'cTon forseveral hours with out any apparent fatigue and. almost in si' lence. At length they came to a halt. ' Theirhaunt is somewhere about here, I have learned,' said? the husband, 'I heard it took me for Bill Richings, who, yolfknow, was supposed to hayo no objections to tfyeir waysi V should'nt be surprised,.*if the •kmniledgte uf my jjuiagjsin^ thisinfurnjmiuu has fed to the attack to-night.' jHark.' said one of the band, 'da you .riot hear a tread coming through tiro woods 5 ?' ' It is—it is—we have found fhem—lie? close now, and wait till they come up.' The group instantly relapsed into silence, and each of them taking up a position behind a huge tree of some fallen 4Eunk in the swamp, waited-'breathlessly for the approach of the comers, whose tread might now be heard, gjojvjng -^aoTe ^afutmoro distinct, as-they ap proached. Directly voices were recognized, conversing in a careless tone, then a loud laugh rung across the night, and after a mo mentary silence, one of the approaching band burst into a song. «Now la our time,' whispered the husband to one of his companions, -tr»u„ «l.«> .righti hand man, and leave the leader to me—ready — fire.' Tho report of their rifles rung sharply through the woods, and three of the refugees leaping into the air,-fell dead upon the ground. The piece of the husband flashed in the pan, but did not go off. Th e captain of the rene gades was unharmed. Springing back a few steps from the covert where his assailants lay concealed, he shouted. ' We are betrayed—we must run for it, my boys,' and before the enraged pursuers could well- understand Ins intention, he.had turned and fled, followed byjhose of his band who still remained behind. It was now no time, however, for hesitation. The baffled husband was the first to dash from his covert, and withrfiit pausing to see whether the fallen men were dead or not, he thundered, - ' Forward—forward—pursue them to the death.' As IIP spnl.-n ho dnshod off in but he determined that his foe should perish with him. Moments posseti'awdy, at every one of which the bank gave way more..and more. The utmost efforts of the - victor to sffatce ofTthe dying man were in vain, and he felt that his last hour was come. .w.i. .i.e. .** \ **V heard no more, even the shouts of his friends; and with a sickening sensation, .he felt they, hadjeither lost their vwty' or deserted him. l«ei . TJould they t only haf 5\ coma up. he might | have been saved. He felt the' twig begin to yield—«he had already slipped • half, off the bank—and the sl&ggles of the dying man •wuru bmuiiriHg mumdnaumam utetyinuinmiu —He gazed at the* gulf below.. Broken limbs o f trees, nnd uprooted pinVa lny mia- gled-pTomiseuously together, so that to fall into the abyss would be certain destruction. The countenance of the outlaw already wore a demoniacal smile in contemplation of the ruin-to which he wa3 dragging the young man. An d that bridegroom—was there hope for him ? Alas ! all was. gone. He gave one thought of his bride—one look toward heaven'—one prayer to his God, and then shut his eyes against the awful catastrophe he felt had come. Suddenly, however, & sharp report, as of some rifle, rung wildly in his cars,, and at the same instant he felt the hold of the outlaw relax from his arm. H e opened his eyes-only to behold the dying man ly to see his mangled body lying shatteredon the trunks of the trees below. In n moment he was drawn away' from the bank, and clasped in the arms of his companions, who, coming up at the very last moment, had, by shooting the outlaw through the heart, re scued their friend from a horrible death. It was a glad night, that one at the Tittle farm-house, after the return of the hardy ad venturers from their expedition.—.Mary was by this time completely recovered.'ancfa hap pier evening never was spent by two fond young nearls than by the young bridegroom and bride. The refugees were from that time extir pated in the vicinity. But their memory yet survives, and though the incidents of this tale, depending, hitherto on tradition for pre- aresuch vixens' Oh', no ! Smith didn't meet me in the street in-day, and says he, \Caudle says-he, \ there's a button oil\ your shirt, you** , have a wife, I believe.\ Oh, no f Smith didn't -»»v-<)ws»l-rfasOa 'uy-oiiUSmti^UU uonsenau-dttJ -Well, then, £ tell you, if I was a bachelor like imilh, I'd thank my stars ; he always has but- tmison hia shirts. I won't slop talking and go asleep—I'm not sleepy, and I'm no child to go to sleep when yiirchoo3e-,and a button nffmv ehirt r 1out-^Vis1i -rtenrTirrt ^— you? so you'd haven chanee to jaw, I 'apose.' Dear knows, you've been talking ahout this but ton being ofl my shirt nil nighl, ami how .I'm In get n witikaf sleep, I dun't know ; but I 6pose are n my stuns are nothing llVy/dl—yilll'VU (\ill llli! tllli] that's nil t/ournre abouw-be'mg called Mrs. Can dle t Well; if it isn't a name worth having it's not rny limit; you mighl have -said no, and I wish you had\; and then inpybe this billion wouldn't have been oft\ mv shirt! Fur people tu be saying \ there goes Mr. Caudle.\ and then asking me if I wanted's button, I'll Caudle 'em, and vug loo now, if is'nt done early to-morrow ! Pull'd it off, did I ? Well, I reckon if I did, a man has a right'lit do what he pleases, nnd if I didn't, you're telling a lie ! I never could beai false witnesses—nnd lothink Mary Candle should be one f If I should he Jiirlunate enough to mar ry again, I hope I shan't get a fiilse witness, but tome people's wives don't die ! Oh no! but lliry aggravate their husbands into udi-ulh brd, and th.'ii, before the grass grows.over their graves, ihev cajole somebody else into \tying the knot with iliem, and my poor liille Caudle's is to suf fer (his, and all because ofn button, too ! I'm nut a worrynuiiic tcui|~*- i M-m. WM ^ hut be ing with some persons might have made a worse man lake to drink; but I'm n Christian, and it's my duly as a Christian, Mrs Qnnlle, tu mention every button that comes olPmy shirts, and your doty to sew 'emonnfa Sunday morning too, if I think proper. I'd like to know what wives is good for, if it aint to take care of the children, and sew on the buttons that cornea o(T their hus band's shirts; Now, it's^niw opinion, that button never ten* on my shirt!—That's always the way with you, leaving things unfinished ; a pretty story it would be, ifl had to go to a seamstress to have my hutlons°sewcd on ; and me,' with a wife and eight children! Such an example Inset those galls, ton, nf ours; they'll never get husbands as lung as ihey live, if they don't learn t » finish tliuigj j anil they'll never learn that from Mary Caudle,! know 1 —pome persons might have made a fuss almut this button, hut I'm a fellow member nf the great •universe o Thus hands, anil I consider H my dUiy to exhibit patience ; iisoncoflhe cardinal vir tues, Mrs. Caudle. Your cardinal, (\Mary Cau dle, its my opinion you're a foul.) I know that intentions in their favor, and commanded them to remove the evils of which they—complained;- - without, however directing them how it ttos to be done. The two Spirits went forth w.ith joy ,to execute their commission, asJijey-delightetHa do good to these dwellers in the mountain valley. The elder Spirit endeavored to restrain the impa tience of the younger, that they might pause and counsel logelhcr some-judicious plan for remo ving ,4he imtfiediate evil without producing any lashnjj-miscWeK—But-the-younger-woultFnot-bo— restrained. The ardor of his benevolence would permit him tosee noihing but the pressure of iin intolerubleeviJ-,-and it urged him on touse^the - first mesas which presented for removing it. without BuflictwHly thinking of thg-ctmaequenoou • - \Phis actions. The gentle heart of the younger Spirit was wearing Mth anguish at the misery of the people, antHie broke uwny—impatiently from his Wiser companion to give them immedi ate relief. He saw nothing but the present evil, and he called at once upon the Angel under his control to remnve it. The rain obedient to his command, began to fiill in torrents. It continued without cessation. The thick piled snow was soon saturated by tho descending deluge, and began itself to be conver ted into water. The frost-bound earth refused to receive any portion of the excessive owUUire. and the water rushed from, the hill-sides lhxuuglT\ the mountain channels into the quiet valleys.^— Every mountain rill became a fierce torrent. The thick ribbed ire which covered the streams watt, broken up and offered a vain resistance to llicdc- -• <*<~ scegding deluge. Occasionally masses of ice and trees and earth would oppose a momentary ob stacle to the rushing waters; bul only until their ^ - gathertiiglurac should sweep it nway and spread - a wider ruin below. In a briet space, the tall trees of thu forest, the rocks from the mountains, and the frozen earth from the hill-sides, weru - swept into the valleys-; and there united with ilie solid ice of the streams, and urged along by fitaming wnters, they carried destruction before them and left desolation behind.- Flockpjuid herds, the works of human industry—the dwell ings ofiiian and man himself were involved in one common ruin. The Spirit himself, grieved ond frightened at the ruin which followed, caused /he rain lo cease, hut the aroused deluge did not stay until the desolation was complete.\ Full of bitterness and anguish then^werc the thoughts of thnt youthful and benevolent spirit. Alas! alas! said he. how chnll I-meet the face of our good Genius' I was sent lo relieve n people ivhom t lore as I do my own immortal lile, and hy my own imprudence and thoughtless conduct, lituvc nrfllcU'd upon ihrnrcvris-tt^housaiiuHhld —» more grievous than that I came- to remove. I was sent lo save and I have proved a dr»troyer. Ah! rash nnd thoughtless Spirit that I am.— Why did I not lake nnunnel fruni thy wisdom^-O- POETRY, Krotn tht Lou brills JOUIDQI. ,11 EIV R Y C1.AY . >rctlL«l D. ITVARTX H« w»in BO erowlj upon that bran which glruoi In freedom'* YU, Where erery god h u let hti Hal to ihow Ihe world a man ; Nor y-ean he ID hti tnutr haod the warrtot*a iprar and glalre, Whoee harreiU iro Ihe tallinr. r>oki that burthen rtilu f * graTe. Bat prouder than the proadeit Mor whoie million eaMalshow; lie wear* the wreath a Natfou'rhand has twlued upon hU brow ; ADO peerleil o 'er hie fallen foe,, with Samlog plume and crell, lie •bun among • Nation'! atari the hrighlcit and the beil / nil name I, not a Kulptured thing, where old renown h u reared Her marble In the wilderneu.br tmoke of battle seared ; But grareo on life Icaping -hearts where freedom 's banner ware, 11 gleams to billtlte-tyrant back, and loose the feller-eif slave. Iliidlrde are not ofhlood and wrong, where roth with iron hand, Hu yoked (he stormy steeds of war to desolate (he land; Bat efer injtfe hour of need, when danger's summons came. He lent the thunder of his word— Uio halo of his name ! Around die hefrths and altars where his Country's gods are shrined. Ills heart has yeVFnsd for Freedom's weal—in IUI Freedom's toil his mind ; And when from other lands, oppressed^ tKe eapllre^a wait has rung. His soul went forth In Freedom's strength—with Freedom's Ore bis tongue. . that her husband had not yet come. In about a quarter of an hour the men re turned, and swearing loudly at their ill-sue- coee, bognjl to soarch among ihf fmy nut- pnrsirtt,- servation, are now known to few, yet there were still living, or were some time ago.one or two tottering patriarchs, whose eyes would l-indlp-, nnd whnsp hrcath would come quick WHS biiilun, hut tvhul 1'ilf iiillring iiuiiut isn't a cape, hut a virtue, which, judging from appear ances, I should thinjt you never,possi -s8ed, for you've neither—leniperanoo, 'ftirbcaranctv J »r christian cliBrity, judging from tins button ofTiny shirt. Mrs. Caudle, I soy, Mrs. Candle re/liem- her thnt button's to bedone to-morrow. Asleep, ire you .' Well, I'll speak of ii sume other time. I've been too cnreless letting such things pass without snyinp mnreonthe subject, but I'll know why my buttons nint^sewed on. I'm glad I'm not a man to gel in a passion—I shouldn't like to go to sleep in a passion—I've kept very cool- but its only owing to my having said so little on, this subject. It's really aggravating fiir u man's wife not lokrep his shins in order.- And thus grumbling, Caudle fell asleep. Abore Ihe altar's of Ihe Greek, and o'er Bolivia's fane. His name, 1 Deliverer,' Is stamped upon Ihe brokr-n chain ; And froq) those old and glorious isles thai gem Ui' iBgean sen. The sons •TSpartansIiailln song the Champ-too ofQic Freest-?, And now, when age is on his heart, and dimness in his eye. He wanes' notwlth the fitful lights that darken In the sky i But prouder stilt In name and lame, with flamingplntne and ctril. He shines among a. Nation's stars the brighlettand the best' MISCELLANEOUS. The Outlaw's Crng. X 1EGBND O F THE REVOLUTION. BY JAMES n. DAN A ^ ' The little town o f Chichester, situated on the M river, was once far more im portant than it is' at present; for while every thing else in this wiao country prospers, it is falling sjowly but surelv to decay. * Many years have passed since I visited it, and even then it was- a melancholy sighh— Houses which I could remember as once inhabited were tenantless, and often roofless—and fields whfch when I last saw them were , waving' with corn, now lay white and deso late, scorched by the rays of an August sun. Fences were torn down—tenements were tottering to ruin—skeletons of old sloops lay bleaijIriiTrr— on the shore—even an ancient church-yard hard by was turned into a deso late common, and over the whoio scene de cay appeared to reign with melancholy scep tre. It was different once, though that was years ngn. But I only nlTnde to TTIP pWg i n call to mind how fleeting every thing is in houses for the master of the place.—Bul their efforts were in vain. The young wife wuanwlrrlr, thtnrgh hetmyinp. no sign fear, stood there, Scarce knowing whether the enraged ruffians would not, the next moment, take her life. By , this is too bad,' said the lead er, after their unsuccessful search ; ' he will certainly be here some time to-night—let us wait for the rascally rebel, and shoot him down on his own threshhold.' The brutal proposition just suited his des perate followers, aqd taking up their quar ters within, they ordered the young wife to prepare them some supper. Though loath ing th.e sight of her tormentors, and trembling momentarily lest her husband should arrive, she Was forced to obey their commands. She contrived, however, always to keep in sight of the door, so as-to obtain IS view of her hus band nssqon^s-h.efmergedHYom -the woods-, determining to warn him at once to flee, tho' she herself would risk her own life by the generous act. Suddenly she darted toward the door, for her keen eye had detected the one.so long looked for, and waving her hand, she shout ed, Fly—fly—Richard —fly. T What the does the jade mean !' angrily exclaimed the leader of the refugees, rushing after her ; and lifting his piece, he continued,' cdme on, or you nre a dead man.' For an instant tho husband paused. He g ?iw nl n frlnnc p tha cfitTTrttinn-nf-nfTnirRr-nnd Hrs companions hesitated but a moment,and then followed his example. Three of the as they told of the outlaw's fate. The spot where the fastness of the refu- had efinopod, bin thoro^v^Kf -Joqf -it>-j-gees--was locatedy-is-deep in-<Jne- of-those this care-worn world About n-mile back of tho village-stands- an old, weather-hoaten house, built of thick hewn logy, and consisting of a single room below, and a narrow garret above* It now forms a kitchen of a more modern structure, but at the period of the Revolution, and in deed, until within a few years, it stood alone. It is a plain old tenement, and stands at right angels with the road.—Behind it is, or was a garden, stretching down to a little swamp, through which runs a stream of clear, cool water, at which many a time I have drank. An apple orchard once' stood\ on the right of ^ the-hotise, and a modest barn-in-front^though time may have levelled both these long since with the dust. Bul that is neither here nor there—so I will g \6* on with my story. It was a brighi^dny in eady summer, when a young gin stood at the door of the house, looking 'anxiously up the road, as i f watching for some expected one. Th e sun was just sinking behind the forest frees, pour ing bis mellow light along the sandy road, and oyer the dark sombre green of tho mel ancholy pines. livery thing,was in repose. Scarcely a breath of air stifred the leaves— though it wa 3 hands,, h; far—the \ripple of the little stream came pleasantly to tho ear, and the hum of insects growing every moment more nnd more low, \ died at last \away.—Still that young girl - watched. She was beautiful, but it was the - beauty of a high resolve and of a proud form.\ Ijeither did she, when you looked at her a second time, appear 1 so young as she at could not be over twenty, and yet had it not been for an air of 'Womanly dignity about her, she might have passed for a girl of six teen only. ' What .can detain, him?'at length she said, as shading her ejt^wit h her hand, she gazed anxiously from.the door. The words h£& scarcely been spoken be fore a figurremerged from the woods up the road, and with a glad smile, she was rushing when suddenly she checked her steps, sho turned as pale as deatli .Tind scarcely eja culating \ Th,gjfefugee,\ she hurried' back to the house. ogon y to leave his wife in would be jcertain His pursuit. Fear seemed, however, to have seized upon the renegades, else why should they have retreated before a force so little exceeding their own ? It is probable, how ever, that they imagined a far greater num ber of the enraged inhabitants were on their track, for they could scarcely suppose that four men would have the hardihood to pene trate to their fastness, when their full number was known to equal a dozen. Wli atovor thfey continued their flight, their pursuers the while pressing hotly in their rear. It was toward morning when two individu als emerged upon thetsdgo of an abrupt hillj many miles from the fastness of the refugees. One of them was. the captain of the refu gees—his pursuer was the injured husband. Both the companions of the outlaw had al ready been overtaken and\ slain. The eag erness of the husband bad outstripped the pace of his companions, and after a pursuit of hours, he was now on the point of coming with the refugee. The rapid pace of the two men, pursuing and pursued, brought the latter to the edge of tho abrupt hill before he was aware of it, and he saw at a glance that further flight was impossible. He could hear the shouts of the others far behind him. in the forest, and he resolved lo grapple with the foremost pursuer, and, by destroying him, effect his such hands tii Knew it death for hiin -Jo -approach. the hnnsp. firm whig principles had made the refugees and tories his political- foes, and he knew that more than once \ Black Davy \ had sworn to take away his life. His only hope, therefore, was in a precipitate retreat. Jha t no persona] injury would 'be offered To his wife, ho felt almost certairij-for deeds of that character had never yet Been attributed to the present leader-of tho refugees. These rapid thoughts'caused-a momentary delay, which had wellriigh proved his-ruin. The refugee captain had already raised his piece, and when he saw 4he husbnndUufn to ft fired. But the self-devoted wife, at that ry instant, sprang forward and struck up the musket, at the peril of her own life. Th o ball whizzed harmlessly over her husband's head, and in another moment he was lost in the surrounding forest The ruffian turned with the scowl of a demon on his face, and lifting his heavy piece into the air struck down the heroic wife. She fell senseless and'bleeding to the eaTth. The refugee gaz ed on her a moment, and then with a curse, called his men to follow him in pursuit of tho flvring -husband An hour after, the husband returned, hav ing thrown his pursuers at fault. Language cannot describe 'his emotions on beholding the condition of his wife. 'A neighbor chanc ing to pass, apparently some ten minutes af ter theTefugeeThad departed, discovered her senseless on the ground.—She was now scarcely revived, and could with difficulty escape before the others came up. He turn ed auhavj. Th e rifles of both the comba tants had been discharged ift tJiB -^ursuil, and tbey now stood face to face, with no weapons but their hunting-knives. A mo ment they gazed at eaclrother with all their mutual hato sparkling in their eyes. Villain—murderer.—traitor,' hoarsely ejaculated the husband, palo with passion, as he darted at the refugee. The -outlaw made no answer, but he scowled a mortal defiance at his foe, and drrnrfrrg his knife, awaited the onset of his antagonist. And it was.terrible. For a few moments so incessant were their thrusts at nnr-h nthur , nnd a n rnpiHly 1 mutually parried, tho,t tho eye could not fol low the motion of the combatants.—Now one —now the other seemed to have the advan tage. Th e dry leaves flew in showers a- round the contending foes, and the dust rose in clouds, hiding them often from the sight Not a word was spoken by either comba tant. A t length, a'fter one or two slight wounds on either side, at a desperate thurst made by the husband, his knife struck a- gainst his antagonist's belt, and was shiver ed lo pieces. Th e refugee saw his advan- tagc^rid^aised^is^rufe-ta-stril first seemed^—Shewas-perhaps eighteen.she-j-speaki - Yet-she strove to smilc T and—faintly extended her hand tot her husband, calling him in those' fond tone's which only a wife may use. ' By all that is holy,' exclaimed the ago nized man, as he rushed from her bedside, ' I will avenge this on .that renegade, or die in the attempt. But Ellen must not know of it. I will wait until she is asleep and then depart on my errand. God will favor the fight.' forward a pace or twerto meet the comer.-f-HThS stars were few and faint that night, as the bold .farmer, extorting from the kind neighbor a promise of secrecy, stole out into the dir, armed with his trusty piece, and after looking it moment at the sky above, struck last hope his pursuer grasped his wrist desperate struggle ensued. Both were men oi great personal—prowess-, but the* outlaw having alrcndy received a. wound in his right arm, was perhaps the weaker of the two. After a protracted contest he yielded, and in a'fierce effort made by the husband to obtain the knife r i t flew from the refugee's hand, to the distance of some yards. -By this time they had imperceptibly been drawn to the very edge of the hill, where a rugged .precipice of some fifty feet, shot perpendicu larly downward'beneath them. Gathering every energy for thisJast .endeavor, the pur suing husband strove to force the outlaw o- ver the precipice, and had partially succeed ed in it, when he felt the gravelly bank giv ing way beneath them. Wi;th one hand ho hastily grasp'ed a twig, and with the other, making a gigantic eflqrt, he thrust his an tagonist over the precipice, so that the out law dangled in the air, having no support but the hold he kept upon the left arm of his an tagonist. All hope for the refuge'e was over, Tangled swamps which skirt the shores flf M—— river, and which are almost imper vious to the sunshine, and impenetrable to the foot of- man. It is many a long day since the writer of this little sketch pene trated to it under the guidance of an old woodsman ; a.id he will never regret the re freshing draught he took at the little spring of cedar water, hard by the site of tho tene- «>«>nt. The rude cabin which the outlaws had constructed, had for ten years Iain rot ting on the earth ; the wild deer hod trotted gaily over :he spot where it once stood ; young saplings, and then rugged trees had sprung up within the circuit. 0 { its fallen \walls and only a few. decayed Umw, crumbling with age, and covered with moss, betokening the position of the dreaded.habi- laiion. ' <: ' Tho hill on which the final ^encounter of, the combatants took place, is* to this day shown, not far from a little creek, emptying into the M river, some miles from Chi Chester. It is still a bold, rugged, broken precipice, though within the last forty years, it-has fallen considerably away through tho action of the snow and rain.—Tho little ra vine into which the outlaw fell, is now half filled up with slides of earth from the preci pice above/ Tradition, however, ptill pre serves the exact spot where the last conflict occurred ; and well do w e remember the eagerness with which in our boyish days, we listened, as wa stood on the very brow of the hill, to nn old veteran's thrilling account of the outlaw's death struggle. [From the United States Gaulle.] A CARD.—Mrs. Mary Caudle begsjjemjssioii lo protest in this manner, against tlfe^tinl'hiiiy which hns been given to some conversation l\ - ttveen her and her husband, relative to iiialtcrv altogether of a domestic nature. She has, a- gainst ihe suggestions of many good friends, for borne to notice the injustice nf her husband, who is, it is believed, instigated by the vanity of being considered a writer, or the habits and customs of certain societies, of which he has lately be- shOuld\ b ^issinf 10 lC '! \ C ° t \' ( ' e0 ' m \ re l ' lnn subject of ridiculc^Mrs. Cnudlo doom s it duo lo herself, nnd her small family, now entirely de pendent on her, to appeal respectfully to the peo- f ile against the decision they have made against ler, on her husband's representations and to sus tain her- appeal-by a sfalcrnent of farther farts\. ITIi'. Candle's Curtain Lectures. .There, Mrs. Caudle, if a fellow begins to whis tle, you needn't be tormenting yourself, to- find out whst'it is nbnut. I'd like to know, if a man can't whistle.in his own bed, where he can whis- ile ? Keeps you from going to' sleep, docs it : That's always the way! _ I f / choose lo converse 7b the Editor nflhe Evening Journal: In looking over nn old and rn 're French book, I found nn Allegory which I- had never seen he- *«»•• It skeins lo me to inculcnle Ihe moral that our philantriroij.Y v.««l benevolence, when not guided hy wifidum, niny produce ni»i»«ir«ii|p re- stills. ' It teaches a lesson from wlnclr hasty and unthinking, though wcll-menning, reformers may learn discretion. Deeming it not inappli cable in any age of the world, I send you a trans lation, that, ifyou deem it^in )per,~yuu may give it to the public. Yours, A ROCHESTER BOOKWORM. Allegory. Long years ago, there* dwelt in the valley a- mong ihe inouiitnins hcvond the Indes, a people nf peaceful pursuit'. The 0»cks and herds which fed upon the rich valley and the green slupcs of the lulls, conslituted^lheir principal wealth, nrrd the care of them furnished their chief avocation. Pleasant villages were scattered here and there witlrin -4lie ^-bi>m>iit—olMlie -oiouoiiHiKv -onil by the | am. side of (lie fertilizing streams. The tutelar ge nius or deily of this people was a wise and he- Spirit of the Sun? That young Spirit wnj sore ly grieved as \lie stood humble and self-abated befhre Ihe good Genius tp give nil account of hit missiog. The Genius did not rebuke or punish bun, but left bun to gather the penrIs of wisdom in the dark nnd troubled waters of experience. Years more went by, and those mountain val leys were agnm green with verdure, and a happy people there ngain tended their flocks and herds. A severe winter again visited llicm with unusual rigor, and again were their prayers put up for relief Again did the good Genius send the same two spirits to their relief. This time, the Spirit of the Rain, sadly remembering Ihe conse- qnrnccs of his former boilv benevolence, permit ted the elder Spirt In guide* his conduct. _ This beneficent qnd wise Spirit called to his aid the gentle rays ofllio sun: By degrees^ the rigor of winter was-relaxcd, the earth was warmed, the ice was made to yield slowly and gradually, so (hat it became weakened and less tenacious; the snows liegan to melt moderately, the earth was softened so as to absorb a portion oflbe moisture; ih& power o f JTie\ sun's\rnys were\ svmcTimes clouded, so thnt the water from the melting snow should nol increase loo rapidly. Then the young er Spirit was asked to call down a gentle and melting rain, winch assisted in removing the ac cumulated snntvs; and thus in a few days the snow and ice ond wmlerdisappeared by degrees, nnd the streams easily carried ofTand without in jury, the superabundant moisture; and the re leased people sang hymns of thanksgiving fi.ir their great delivery from the frosts and snow or winter, nnd the whole country was clothed with ihe smiling garment of Spring; and the people were happy. Then was the younger Spirit glad, and his countenance beamed-with benevolent smiles, nnd he embraced his elder brother nnd O, wise Spirit-MeHTie-eWf-btv-guidgd—by— thee Thy benevolence is guided by wisdom; „ . ... , . thou art not like me, rash, ineonsiderale and un ncficenl spirit, and watched with anxious snlici- [thinking, but hast well considered the nature of- tude oveMhc happiness of those of his mortal [the evils thou wast sent lo remove, and hast so this time, it always keeps you from going to sleep ! Pray, what right have you to be asleep when I'm awake! A pretty piece of conjugal devotion, that, when I'm tired and weary, that you hove nothing belter to do, }han logo asleep Whistle tiiny I , ifl keep my mouth shut ?—Now you know very well, that I must open my mouth to whistle ; that shows all you know 1 Paid too 'dear fiir your whistle .did you? You must be mightily ebonged-since I first knew you ?™I us ed to get a chance' nf talking then! but now, vou're alwa.vs dejif when I speak ! But I .just tell you wteirit is, Mrs. Caudle, you must either keepTny shirts in better order, or leave (he pre mises ; there's a button ofT, and it's been ofTn whole week, too '. And you'r gadding about the streets, while yquf^OHf husband hns no buttons nn his shirts ! I'm not in a passion about it, but if I was a cusxiifg man, I certainly should swear, to relieve my feelings.—can't smother 'em ! . I'd scorn to swallow 'em ; they've been pent up in this bustin' heart ever since this button was off It's scandalous, that a man having a wife has no buttons on his shirt. Some men wouldn't put.up with it ; hut I'm not in a bad temper, thank for tune ; it wouldn't do for me to be lll-tempcred, whensuuic persons \\hjr_Jivc_in the same.house , pincss children Sho sent up to him their prayem for protection. A people so situated, and under Ihe guardian care of so beneficent a spirit, it may well he believed, were as happy as it belongs to mortality to be. But, ahisl what mortals are exempt from evil.' It is mil until the spirit has f iassed lo'the abudes of the Messed, that unalloyed lappincss is its portion. It belongs not to mere morlnls. The principal evil which affected this people, was the long and severe winters, and the deep snows incident to their mountain hab.la- lions. These sometimes continued with m> mucli_ severity as to cause many sad and pressing mis-* \ ii—one-season-parlicn ln\y, rude wmler held its uwav ur.til long after it usually rrlensed its rigor. The constant snows had covered the earth lo a great depth; the streams were chained with icy fetters; communication betwpen village and village was entirely cur oil'; the flocks and herds began lo perish for want of sustenance; and even man was famishing from inability to' penetrate the thick piled snow to obtain fimil. The afflicted-people began lothink thniSpring would never return; anil in the extremity tt( k their misery they sent up frequent and fervent prayers to their tutelar deity for relief. This good genius listened favorably lo their earnest prayers, and as he ever desired the gdod of his 4 tiuii titY worshipers; hc^cierrmrn?d~tii glvtf ill succor. This genius was constantly surrounded by a crowd of attendant spirits, ever ready and eager to do his will and oliey his behests.\ These attendant spirits hair-different functions ond a control of diflcrefitjfoments and materia! agents ^ as one controlled the Wind, another the finin, another the Sun, &c, which clemenls^or agents ihey used lo carry out the commands op the genius. Thu spirit of Rain was a fair and youthful; spirit, whose every essence tvns benevolencp, and who was ever prompt and eager to remove by the speediest means cvcry'cyil which came to his knowledge. Ho was Impatient, in his overflow ing kindness, if the t?vil was not destroyed at once, which sometimes led him°lnlo indiscretion, productive ofgreater evils by the hasty measures which he adopted with the very hest intentions. Thespirit of the Sun was older tnd wiser.— He prwi'pBgprl the same hcnevnlenrp, as jndel-d did all the Spirits who attended upon the Genius, but he was more thoughtful ond considerate, and looked more to the consequences of his actions, and was less rash and hasty in the measures which he adopted. T o these two Spirits the Genius communicated the miserable situation of his mountain worshippers and his oi\ n btncvolpnt adapted thy means to the object that the evil is effectually removed without inflicting still greater evils. I see now thnt time was necessary lo pro duce the result without inflicting greater -evils.—. Happy will be that p'eoplc to whom thou art sent n\s a ministering Spirit; and happy shall I be, if I can accompany -thee on such errands of mercy. I perceive that benevolence without wis dom is often destructive.\ '1 he good Genius commended the docility and modesty of the younger Spirit, and deemed that he was cured of his rashness in accomplishing ctfen his purposes of benevolence. Important from Xcxus t Correspondence of the Tribune. WASHIUC-TON, June 10,184S. It rs said that Guvcrnmenl has received advices that the Mexican troops have passed the Rio Grande, alftl^WftSctl'TlW-'rtv'eJr Neucf*, thelmnn- dary between Mexicpand Texas. If this be ihe lad we shall soon hear-of a collision. The Cabinet arc in session and there is no doubt that important information has been re ceived, as an ofiicer of the army was despatched Souih late hist night with insiruclinnsi. ^h^iwns^r^^n.-^f^^Sci^l, we leirn, ing, and slopped at Ihe American, appearing- to lie quite ai Jus leisure. _ The night-train brought fin officer from Washington, ^jn quest of Gen. Scott, who, after a brief interview, left post-hasto fiir Washington.—These facts, as related to us, strengthen the repnrt that n Mexican force is on the Nueces, and that Mr. Pnlkisabout lo under- < take the serious responsibility of driving them \oyer the Uio del Norm. • We have private, but most reliable advices, that ogents liPMexico have renently beena- mong the Chcrokees ,.8eeking to engage the In dians as nllie5irf Mtrxicir in gxpetitatiun uf H War with the United States. We apprehend that those who assured our people that Annexation was n meosore of peace and would not excite hostility or interrupt rela'tinns of amity, will prove to hnve grossly deceived those who trusted theoi. —Tribune Jan. 19. (t7=» Th e keeper of a menagerie was late ly seen beating one of the elephants rrjth a largo club. A bystander asked him the cause. ' Why,' said thekoeper, ' he's been flinging dust all about the tdnt, and he's big enough to know better.\
