Fredericton Head Quarters (Newspaper) - March 19, 1845, Fredericton, New Brunswick'Mir to] Y IS LITERARY, POLITICAL, OR AND * COMMERCIAL JOURNAL. WILLIAM GRIGOR. Editor.] rn m “CHERISH RESPONSIBLE GOVERNMENT, AND BRITISH CONNEXION.55—SZR C. T. METCALFE. [JAMES r. A. miLLIPS, ProprietorWMMCSHS BL] - - __J_vmmmms, a a® ss&ssss » sea» tWEOSUB St®.Si 2 13? H IE ü SP Œ IS a BY THE STORM. W. F. s., U. S. NAVY. Respectfully dedicated to the Officers of the United States Sloop of War Cyanc, on her cruise to the Pacific, in 1212. Tub dark scud scowls at the trembling moon And the stars in fear have down ; The “ Petrel ” murmurs its warning lune, With the coming tempest’s moan. " All hands ! all hands ! reef topsail, reef !” From your dreams and your hammocks spring, For our much loved ship must find relief, When the wind in its might doth ring. List! list! From tile Worth, with a fearful peal, Tile voice of the storm rolls by, And the wakened waves affrighted reel, From the fury of the sky. u Mount ! topmcn ! mount ! away, away !” Aloft to your stations leap; The gale breaks o'er us, and with spray Has whitened now the deep. On, on we drive before, the blast, While torrents o'er us stream, While lightnings circle round the mast, And blind with lurid gleam j In wild pursuit the elements Assail and round us cling} While madly onward ’mid the gloom, O’er waves of snow we spring. 'All dim aloft—all dim around— Save where the clouds are riven, When flames leaps forth, and spray doth bound In diamonds up to heaven. •Yet trusting hearts, and steady hands Reduce cadi pressing sail, While clearly ring out brief commands, Amid the screaming gale. Rut gentle morning, with her train, Thus rudely roused, appears. And smiles so sweetly, that in shame The darkness disappears. Upon her purely glowing check The sunbeams fondly stray, And crested waves, subdued and meek, in glittering beauty play. We thank thee, lovely seraphim} And journeying on to-dc.y, Still bless the smile that served lo win The tempest from our way ; Our moisten’d sails, from bondage free, The milder winds inhale, We shape our course, and joyously To Western Isles we sail. TUE WOUNDED VULTURE. BY ANNE C. I.YNCH. A kingly vulture sat alone Lord of the ruin round, Wberb Egypt’s ancients monuments Upon the desert frowned A hunter’s eager eye had marked The form of that proud bird, And through the voiceless solitude w His ringing shot was heard. It rent the vulture’s plumed breast, Aimed with unerring hand, And his iifc-otood gushed warm and red Upon tlic yellow sand. No struggle nnrkcd the deadly wound, He gave no piercing cry, But calmly spread his giant wings, And sought the upper sky. In vain with swift pursuing?hot The hunter seeks his prey. Circling and circling upward still, On his majestic way. Up to tile blue empyrean He wings his steady flight, Till his receding form is lost Iii the full flood of light. Oh wounded heart ! oh suffering soul ! Sit not with folded wing Where broken dreams and ruined hopes Their mournful shadows fling. Outspread thy pinions like that bird, ^ Take thou the path sublime. Beyond the flying shafts of fate, Beyond the wounds of lime. Mount upward ! brave the clouds and storms Above life’s desert plain j There i3 a calmer, purer air. A heaven thou too may’st gain. And as that dim ascending form Was lost in days’ broad light, So shall thine earthly sorrows fade, Lost in the Infinite. until their ways separated, and each returned to his own home. “ That’s a splendid farm of Peterson’s” remarked Harvey to his wife, as he sat balancing his spoon, with a thoughtful air, on the edge of a cup after finishing his supper that evening. I only wish that I was its owner.” “ Won’t Peterson sell ?” “Not at a price to suit me.” “ What is it worth ?” “Twenty dollars un acre at least.” “Humph!” “ And mine isn’t worth eight dollars. I was taken in most shamefully in that purchase. One half of my meadow land i3too wet for any kind of a profitable crop.” Mrs. Harvey seeing that her husband’s mind was fretted, did not encourage a continuance of the subject, but sought to change it. In this she was not successful. A musing silence on the part of both was tile consequence. Half an hour after tea, farmer Peterson dropped spade, to be frightened by a screeching owl. in lo chat a little. Crops, stocks, &c. formed the A large stone, thrown into the tree that bent theme of conversation. Thus the subject took a over the spot, dislodged tile night bird, and then • At length he arrived at the spot. All was as death. Now the whole scene was lit up by the broad white rays of tho moon, and now, suddenly, ail was dark obscurity, as a swiftly gliding cloud covered the brilliant disk of night’s chaste queen. These rapid changes, over the face of nature, and os rapidly reflected upon tile mind of Peterson, unnerved him to such a degree, that he trembled from head to foot. But the desire for the gold buried beneath his feet was strong, stronger than his supernatural fears. Searching out, with the aid of his lanthorn, the exact spot he /lad marked during tile preceeding day, lie let the edge of his spade fall upon the ground, and placing his foot upon it, was about driving it, by a strong muscular effort, in tile earth, when a loud unearthly cry or scream, suddenly filled the air. His spade fell from his hand, and Ins dog pressed close up to him, giving utterance to a low growl. “Fool! fool that I am!” he said. regaining his more general range. o c “ I had a very curious dream last night,” remarked Harvey, during an interval of silence. “Ah ! What was it ?” asked Peterson, who was a.man of lively imagination and sanguine temperament. “ I dreamed that there was a large amount of money buried under an old, half decayed tree, overhanging a bank. I saw the spot, and the tree in my dream. I knew them well enough, but for my life, cannot find the place. I have been all over my farm to day, not that I believe at all in dreams, but because, but because I hadn’t much to do, anp felt a little curious, but I can’t make out the spot. I think I must have seen it on your farm, or that of friend Eiwell, perhaps.” “ Do you remember exactly how the place looked ?” asked Peterson, with affected indifference. “O, yes! I sec it before; me now, as distinctly as I see that old chair by the fireplace. A kind of bank, like a road, ran along the edge of a piece of meadow land; above this there was a considerable hill. Bending over this bank stood a very old chestnut tree, partly decayed above and at the root. It was not a great distance from the river, and seemed indeed, a fitting place for some freebooter to hide away his ill gotten wealth.” “ Such things have been done.” “Q yes. I remember very well.” returned Harvey, hearing my father relate a money digging adventure in which he was once engaged, and which proved successful. An earthen pot, containing gold coins a century old, was discovered alter a search of several days.” “How much was in it ? asked Peterson, with ill concealed interest.” “ Oh, about ten thousand dollars, I believe ; there were three to share the booty.” “ How do you suppose it came there ?” Kl THE SIDNEY DIGGERS. «Y T. S. ARTHUR. “ Did you ever sec a finer farm than this?” said a man named Harvey, as he leaned upon a fence, and looking over a broad field of wheat, nearly ready for the sickle. Ile spoke to a neighbour with whom he had been to an adjacent town on business. “The best in the district, Harvey. If I were worth the money, I’d give Peterson fifty dollars an acre for it to-morrow.” • There are four hundred acres. That would be twenty thousand dollars. “ Yes. And it would be cheap at that.” “Peterson farms it well.” “ Yes. But I understand as much about farming os he does, and a little more too. Give me the soil that he has, and PII make crops at least one third larger, or I’m mistaken.” “I don’t know exactly what I could do in the way of increasing the yield, but I do know, that I would consider myself a rich man if I owned Peterson’s farm. This remark was made by Harvey, as he lifted his arms from the top rail of the fence, half sighing involuntarily, as lie did so, and stepped hack into the road. The neighbours walked along, and talk-ed about the farm they had just been looking over, “Captain Kidd.” “ No ?” “So it was thought.” “ Was it any where abrupt bere?” “ Yes, it was on this very farm, which my father owned, and which he was enabled to retain bv paving oil* a heavy mortgage with the cash that came into his hands so opportunely.” “ Ile was certainly very fortunate. But did lie not endeavour to discover more buried treasure ?” “ Yes. Ile spent a good deal of time in digging about in various places, but with no more gooJ luck. I, his son, think it more profitable to plough than dig. There are hid treasures in the eartli more valuable than gold, and I find them every year at harvest time.” As Peterson went home that evening he could think of nothing else but bis neighbours dream. That night lie dreamed that a dark. fierce looking man came to him, with sword by his side, and pistols in his belt, and beckoned him to follow. He did so, and was taken to the very spot which Harvey had described. There his guide, who assumed an air of angry authority, ordered him to dig. He obeyed, and soon his spade was among glittering coin, which he was told he might carry home and use as his own pleasure might dictate. The surprise and joy that this occasioned, awoke him. He could not again sleep. Early in the morning he got up and walked out. He did not remember any spot on his own farm that answered the description given him by Harvey, hut he flail a faint recollection of having seen something like it on his neighbour’s place. Ile,* therefore, crossed his own fences, arui began to explore the land of his neighbour, situated at some distance from his dwelling. “The very spot!” lie ejaculated, pausing suddenly as he sprung from a piece of elevated ground upon the bank or artificial road described by Harvey. His heart beat violently end for a few moments he felt almost like suffocating. Then he became^ so weak that he had lo sit down close to the root of the old chcsmit tree. “ There is money here, just os sure as my name is Peterson!” he said to himself, gazing upon the exact spot he had seen in Ins dream. It was with difficulty that he could restrain himself from digging down with a stick, or anything that came first to hand, and securing the golden treasure—Prudence, however, held him back for the present. Some one might come along and discover what he was at. Resolving to wait until night, and then visit the place alone, properly prepared fbi* doing the work of discovery successfully, he hurried home, taking a very circuitous route, lest his neighbour should observe him and suspect the motive that had led him to walk over his premises so early in the morning. That night, after all were in bcd and asleep, Peterson stole quietly from the side of his slpmber-wife, and dressing himself with silence, left his chamber. With a spade in one hand, and a lantern, covered so as to conceal the light within, lie took his way, accompanied only by a favourite dog in whose discretion he had confidence, towards the place where the money he expected to find lay buried. There was a full moon in the sky, though it was now then concealed by heavy masses of dark clouds, from which came on occasional peal of thunder, that in spite of his firmness caused Peterson’s heart to shrink with something of fear in his bosom. Heretofore ho had thought but little of the superstitious legends related in connection with money digging. But now, visions of the restless spirits who were said to he (lie guardiansof buried treasures, arose in his mind. One story and another heard when, but a boy, came back vividly upon Ids mind, and unnerved his manly reason that had rejected such silly tales. the search for gold commenced. Three hours were spent in earnest but unsuccessful toil. His spade chinked among no rusty coin, nor crushed into lragnienls no sacred money jar. Wearied and disappointed, he at length abandoned his labor and returned home. It was near daylight when nature yielded, and sleep stole over his senses.— But his excited imagination re-presented the money digging scene, Ile still toiled with spade and pickaxe, but was more successful. Gold in rich abundance glittered at his feet—he was gathering it up joyfully, when the hand of his wife roused him from liis prolonged slumber into real consciousness. It was towards the middle of the day that Harvey strolled over to that part of his farm which had been the scene of his neighbor’s midnight operations. He did not seem very much surprised at what ho saw, nor altogether displeased at the evidences of hard labor that were apparent. He kicked over carelessly a few clods, muttered something in an under tone, ejaculated “ humph ! humph !” with something like a self-satisfied chuckle, and then walked away. For about half the distance to his house, his steps were slow and his face thoughtful. Suddenly something seemed to occur to his mind of a pleasing character, for he struck his hands together, and said, half-aloud : “I’ll do it!” Ile reached home in a very few minutes, and went up into his room, where he remained for some time, and then came down, and walked awny with a (mick earnest pace. That night Peterson again visited the spot where lie had seen so much gold in his dream, and again commenced digging. lie had been thus engaged for about half an hour, when his spade, struck something that gave a metallic sound. He was instantly all in a tremor, and dug down more earnestly, examining carefully each spadeful that was thrown up. Did his eyes deceive him? No! Two or pieces of gold glittered in the moonlight ! The treasure was found ! The dream was true ! Eagerly, now, he toiled, but nothing more was found that night. Enough, however, had come to light to satisfy him, that he had not been laboring in vain—that buried treasures were there, and would soon be his. Night after night Peterson returned lo dig for gold. Every now and then n single old coin would be found, but no money jar had yet corno lo light—no iron bound chest concealing millions ot treasure. Still the few coins that ho had turned up, satisfied him that immense quantities of money were buried in the vicinity. It was about the fifth or sixth day after he had commenced his search for gold, that Peterson called in to see the owner of the ground on which he had been digging. After some conversation of a general character, Harvey remarked: “ That’s a veiy fine farm of your’s.” “Yes,” was replied. “But it has to be well worked to get anything out of it.” “ No doubt of that; and you arc Hic one to work it well.” “I believe I can manage a farm about as well any one in these parts,” returned Peterson, with a feeling of pride. “ How would you like to exchange with me?— What would you ask to hoot—acre for acre.” “ Well, I don’t know ” said Peterson, a little surprised at finding his own thoughts of exchanging farms, anticipated in expression, by Harvey. “ What do you think your bind worth,” “ Fifty dollars.” “ That is high.*! “ Not for such land. Forty or fifty bushels of wheat to the acre are easily made on it. I do it every year. What do you ask for yours ?” “ It ought lo bring as much. It lies contiguous to your land, and the soil is similar in character.” “ It is not so good ; aud cannot be made to produce as large crops.” “ I don’t know—I believe it might,” said Harvey. “ At least I should not be willing to change farms, if the thing were seriously proposed, on liny other terms than acre for acre.” Nothing more definite passed between the parties at this interview. After Peterson had gone away, a peculiar self-complacent smile settled on tile face of Harvey, that had in it an expression of sinister triumph. Peterson, whose nightly absence could not be concealed from his wife, had fully informed her of Hie cause, and had even succeeded in inspiring in her the same wild hopes that animated his own bosom, by displaying a number of old fashioned gold coins already found. “ I believe,” he remarked to her one day, “tint the place where I have been digging, is not the only one upon Harvey’s farm where gold lies buried. Monev has been found upon it before—I ain __; . « iv «in towards this issue. But Peterson was not as much inclined for the bargain as lie had hoped. He talked about it, but would not come to the point. The work of eight or ten nights showed rallier conspicuously ; but Peterson was sure that Harvey had not yet discovered what he was about, for no allusion was made by him to an excavation that must struck him as very singular, had it fallen under his eye—so singular that lie could not help speaking about it For three clays lie had not visited the scene of his labeurs iii the day time. A few hours after parting with Harvey, his inclination led him to go to tile spot that had for him more interest than any other spot. on earth. The approach was from above. As he came to the brow of the rising ground that overlooked it, ho was surprised to see Harvey digging there with a spade. Instantly his heart sank in his bosom. All was discovered, and now the owner of the land would claim the treasure as his own. So powerful was the reaction of his feelings, occasioned by the sudden discovery, that he staggered up against a tree, and leaned, panting and weak as a child against it. Recovering himself a little , he began to watch the movements of Harvey with an interest all alive. Ile had done so only a little while, when a change came over him. First his face became flushed— then pale, and then flushed again. Quietly then, retiring, he left the ground, and returned home in a thoughtful, sober mood. Early after tea, Harvey called in to sec him. “Good evening, good evening, neighbour Peterson,” lie said, in a lively tone a3 he entered. “ Good evening, Mr. Harvey ! How do you find yourself?” “0, very well. I thought I would just drop in to say that I would like to soc you to-morrow morning pretty early. I have had an ofter for my farm to day ; and I feel half inclined to take it. But as you and I have had some talk about an exchange I thought we would settle that matter, yea or nay, so that there could he no hard feelings afterword. Ah, indeed ! you’ve had an ofter. Who from ?” “ Mr. Edgar.” “ What is he willing to give ?” “Ile offers forty dollars.” “Does he indeed! Then take my ndvice, anc! let him have it ?” “ But, Mr. Peterson, I thought you would like to exchange firms with me,1’ said Harvey with asudden look of disappointment. “ Oh, no. I have no such desire.” “ But you certainly spoke of it a few days ago.” *“ Yes, but ” there was a meaning pause. “ Bul what, Mr. Peterson ?” “ You let the hook show through the bait.” “ I don’t understand you.” “ You did’nt salt your land freely enough with old gold.” “ Mr. Peterson !” “ Mr. Harvey !” “ Explain yourself.” “How much gold have you sown under the old chesnut tree ?” Harvey started to his Feet,|in confusion, looked in his interlocutor in the face with a burning cheek for nearly a minute, and then turning away, glided from the house. To this day, lie cannot bear the sturdy glance of his neighbour’s eye. Peterson still retains his line farm, making the best crops in the neighbourhood. He is completely cured of money digging, proffering much more to drive the plough, than handle the spade or piclc-axc. Light and Heat of the Sen.—The sun lins been usually considered as a planet ; but should rather be numbered among the stars, because he agrees with them in the continual emission of light and in appearently retaining His relative situation with very little variation. His radiant orb is in figure a spheroid, surrounded by an atmosphere of extreme tenuity and great extent. Tile sun constantly emits streams of light, which, being reflected by the planets they full upon, can bo ascertained to extend witli inconceivable swiftness into space nearly two thousand million of miles. how far beyond the regions of Uranus is left to conjecture, as well as the further effects of their impingement upon planetary surfaces, and what eventually becomes of this wonderful traversing émanation. Must it not reach at least as far os th.e aphelia of comets ? The solar rays, thus transmitted through space in every direction, must affect tile several heavenly bodies, very differently, on account of the varieties in their atmospheres, and because the square of the distance increases. The appearance of the sun is that on an intensely brilliant ball, fur too dazzling for the unprotected eye. This light is so ardently strong that the most vivid flames which human art can produce, when hold before the sun disappear? and intensely ignited solids become dark spots on the solar disc when seen between it and the eye. “The ball of ignited quick-limc,” says Sir John Ilerscholl, “ in Lieutenant Drummond’s oxyhydrogen lamp, gives the nearest imitation to the solar splendor which has yet been produced. The appearance of this against the sun. was, however, is described (viz. a dark spot) in an imperfect trial at which I was present. The direct light of the sun has been estimated to be equal to that of :1,570 wax candles of moderate size, supposed to be placed at the distance of one foot from tho object. That of the moon is probably only equal to the light of one candle at the distance of twelve feet. Consequently the light of the sun is more than 300,000 times greater linn that of the moon.” to them ; and when the moon is new, they will see the earth full. The face of the moon appear-to us permanent, but to them the earth present very different appearances; tho Pacific and At lantic Oceans, in the course of each twenty-four hours, will successively reveal their attention, and the velocity of motion must excite both surprise and conjecture. Though, as aforesaid, certain of those gentleman only behold the earth for half a month at a time, those near the border see in only occasionally, and those on the 6ide opposite the earth never sec it at aff. The moon being but the fiftieth part of the bulk of our globe, and within 238,000 miles of us, may be brought by a proper telescope, which magnifies 1000 times, to appear as she would to tho- naked eye where she only 250 miles off! An Independent Woman.—Talk indeed of your pantomime and your gaudy shows; your processions, and installations and coronations ! give me as a beautiful sight, a neat and smart woman, heating her own oven, and setting her own bread ! and if the bustic does make the sign of labor glisten on her brow, what man would not kiss tim oft rather than lick the plaster from the plaster oi a duchess.—Cobbed. “A New Kick.”—The proprietor of a gymnasium “Out West” closes Iris advertisement with the following: o N. IL Pistol shooting and the use of the bowie knife taught gratis. The chap no doubt does a slashing business. Maury not r man who is in the habit of running after nil the girls in the country ; because tim affections of that man are continually wavering, and therefore never can he permanent. Gentleness is a sort of mild atmosphere, and it enters into a child’s soul like the sunshine into a rose bud, slowly but surely expanding it in beauty and vigour. 3?i'oWiuf