THE CASKET.

EDITED BY E. B. KILLEY AND B. J. LOSSING.

POUGHKEEPSIE, SATURDAY, APRIL 21, 1838.

moon, the solar system, and carried his young mind far into the field of immensity, where the fixed stars beam in mysterious grandeur. Simplicity marked every word, and even that infant mind, led by such a tutor, grasped the whole creation. Tenfold lustre seemed to beam in his eyes as those great truths were impressed

SALUTATORY.-In commencing a second volume of upon him, and yet he asked, Where is heaven? Be

We send the first number of the Casket to all subscribers to the first volume. Those who wish the second volume, will please forward the amount of the subscription immediately, at our risk and expense.

Chaplet of Comus.

the inquiry may be made, What will be its character ? To those who are acquainted with the first volume, it will be necessary only to say, that this will be similar in the variety and quantity of matter to its predecessor. To the stranger we make a more explicit answer to the inquiry.

It shall be our aim to present to the reading community subjects suited to the capacities and tastes of every virtuous class—the child as well as the adult-keep ing constantly in view those great cardinal principles of morality which elevate the standard of moral excellence, and enrich the understanding.

said the divine, is Heaven-there is the throne of the Almighty. The child was satisfied. He had been

led

"Through nature up to nature's God,"

and often when the last bright footsteps of the sun had faded from the sky, and the stars glittered upon the brow of Heaven, that little teacher would take his little sisters by the hand, and pointing to the glowing firmawould tell them where God dwelt-would tell ment,

them that away in yon blue void their dear departed mother was singing praises to the great Redeemer. O, beautiful simplicity! Surely it needs all our learning to talk to a little child.

We shall endeavor to guard against the admission of Mothers, would you give an early bias to the minds any article, either prose or poetry, however beautiful of your children towards morality and virtue, would you the diction or sublime the conception, that may tend to vitiate taste, corrupt the heart, or paint the cheek of guard them from the snares of error, and enrich their minds early with true knowledge, attend to their inquimodesty with the blush of shame. We shall cater largely for the female taste, for tories, and send them not away with an unsatisfactory mothers and daughters we look for the greater portion of the readers of the Casket. We hope to make it acceptable to the family circle-the empire of woman— and hope it may entertain both parent and child, profitably and agreeably.

answer. A truth, impressed upon the understanding of a child by a parent, will be its companion through life. Many a future Newton might thus be early started on his bright career of usefulness and renown, while others with equal talents would be groping during the We deem good selections preferable to poor original whole morning of life amid the darkness of error, for the want of the lamp of Truth to light them onward. Let matter, and shall therefore reject all communications which do not possess decided merit. We shall use parents use all their learning when talking to their children, and would have their hearts made glad many criticism candidly, and as far as we are capable, judi- by the buds of promise that would presently appear.

ciously, without regard to personal friendship, for we consider the correction of error to be the kind office of a friend.

We shall never allow space for sectional disputes of a religious or political character; but shall ever be happy to give place to communications which breathe the spirit of the ethics of HIM who "spake as never man spake."

Education-popular education, will claim a share of our attention, for with it the best interests of our country are identified. But we shall spice these grave subjects with a proper share of the fictitious and humorous, and fill our Casket with gems of every description, whether of the imperishable diamond or the transient dew-drop.

We shall give frequent graphic illustrations, executed on wood, in a manner which, we trust, will add much to the value of the work. In a word, we intend to spare no labor or expense to make our little sheet a favorite with the public. We hope to amuse and instruct both old and young, and if we fail to accomplish our purpose, the fault will be in our inability, not in a want of laudable efforts.

"I NEED ALL MY LEARNING WHEN I TALK TO

A CHILD.”—This was the profound remark of a philosopher, and is an incontrovertible truth. There is a beautiful simplicity in the mind of a little child, which requires the most lucid and conclusive explanations to convince it of the many truths sought after by the budding intellect. The man, standing erect in all the strength of mental maturity, can have his inquiries satisfied with a simple remark, does it but awaken a certain train of reflection; and he may, through his own

effort, discover the object of his search, after receiving the key from another. Not so with the child. It hears the rumbling thunder and asks, What makes it? We tell it that it is the report of the flash that preceded it, and it asks, In what manner? The whole powers of a natural philosopher are required to give the infant inquirer a comprehensive answer.

We once heard a little boy ask a learned divine, Where does God live? In heaven, was the reply. Where is heaven? asked the little seeker, earnestly. The pious man summoned his imagination to his aid, and told the boy of the atmosphere around him, the

WOOD ENGRAVING.-This much improved art, now extensively used, is of quite early origin, and probbly preceded engraving on metal in Europe nearly two

centuries. The earliest account on record of this art is given by Papillon, who says that he saw the engravings which he described, as existing in 1285. They were eight in number, and were called the "Actions of Alexander." They were six by nine inches in size. In a frontispiece, decorated with ornaments, there was the following inscription:

Cunio, twin brother and sister, first reduced, imagined "Allessandro Alberico Cunio Caviliere, and Isabella and attempted to be executed in relief, with a small knife on blocks of wood, made even and polished by this learned and dear sister; continued and finished by us together at Ravenna, from the eight pictures of our invention, painted six times larger than here represented; engraved, explained by verses, and thus marked проп the paper, to perpetuate the number of them, and enable us to present them to our relations and friends in testimony of gratitude, friendship and affection. All this was done and finished by us, when only sixteen years of age."

We have in our possession several wood engravings executed three hundred years ago, which show that the od. But engravings on wood at the present day far art had attained to considerable perfection at that periexcel many of the finer specimens of metal engraving in the days of Hogarth.

DRAWING.-In our next number we intend to commence a series of Letters on Drawing, compiled from the best authors, illustrated by several explanatory engravings. We shall endeavor to present the subject in a clear and concise manner, which we believe will

FINDING STORE.-A chap just from "the bush," with a sheet of gingerbread under his m, and gazing at the signs; when one which was labelled "General Finding Store," attracted his attention. He entered, chewing his gingerbread, and after a severe effort at swallowing, like a hen eating dough, he exclaimed, "I swow! you must be darn'd lucky chaps to find all these things-I 'spose you aint found my umbrella, nor nothing, have you?""

A NEW IDEA.-One of our jokers, the other day, on reading the deaths in a down east paper, and seeing

the ages of a great many on the list to be 80 and upwards, said he could'nt see how people afforded to live so long at the north-he wasn't but 30, and had'nt money enough to hold out much longer.

A HORRIBLE DEATH.-A man named Death, who lives in a town near Detroit, is said to be so prodigiously ugly, that the woolly head of a negro who accidentolly met him in the street, was turned white in an instant. It was said to be a first rate specimen of Saxony wool. The negro was afterwards regularly sheared every spring,

A CAUSTIC HIT.-Piron, the French author, having been taken up by the watchmen of the night in the streets of Paris, was carried on the following morning before the lieutenant of police, who haughtily interrogated him concerning his business or profession. "I am a poet, sir," said Piron. "Oh! oh! a poet, are you?" said the magistrate, "I have a brother who is a poet." "Then we are even," said Piron, "for I have a brother who is a fool."

LEANNESS.-When the Duke de Chosen, a remarkably lean man, went to London to negotiate a peace, Charles Townsend being asked whether the French government had sent the preliminaries of a treaty, answered, "He did not know, but they had sent the outlines of an ambassador.”

HOW TO CURE A COUGH.-"Well, Mrs, Lanagan, did you put the blister on your chest, as you promised, and did it rise?" "Why, then, mistress dear, the never a chest I had to put it upon, but sure and I have a little bit of a box, and I put it on that, but sorry a rise it riz; and if you don't believe me, come and see, for it is sticking there still, I'm thinking.

THE KNOT.

MARRIED,

In the town of Fishkill, at the house of Mr. Jeremiah Scouten, on Sunday evening, the 15th instant, by the Rev. Mr Price, Simon P. Heermance, printer, to Miss Elizabeth Robson, all of Poughkeepsie.

"And now, they too

Before the altar bow. Ye may go
And rifle earth of all its loveliness,
And of all things created hither bring
The rosiest and richest-but alas!
The world is all too poor to rival this!
Ye summon nothing from the place of dreams,
The orient realm of fancy, that can cope,
In all its passionate devotedness,

With this chaste, silent picture of the heart!"
On Sunday evening last, by the Rev. S. L. Stillman,
Mr. ALEXANDER L. GALE, to Miss PHEBE MONELL, ali

of this village.

On the 10th inst., at Washington, by Wm. W. Caulkins, esq., of Pleasant Valley, Mr. JAMES L. ACKERT, 10 Miss CHARLOTTE NEWCOMB, of the former place.

At Amenia, on the 1st inst., by John K. Mead, esq. Mr. EBENEZER G. BUEL, of Sharon, Conn., to Miss CAROLINE D. WHITE, of the same place.

THE KNELL.

DIED,

We have been asked whether the Casket has any connexion, as formerly, with the "Youth's Guide." We answer it has not. The present is the commencement of the second volume of the original Casket, as published by us in 1836. At the same time,any person who has paid in advance for the Guide, can have the Casket sent in its place, and the publisher of the former will compensate us.

At Spencertown, Columbia county, on the 7th inst., ler, formerly of this village, aged two years and five months. The day previous to her death, her mother asked her whether she wished to get well. "No," lisped the little sufferer, and exclaimed, "Oh dear, oh Lord!"

My lovely babe, so young and fair,
Called hence by early doom;

Just came to show how sweet a flower,
In Paradise would bloom.

In this village on the 11th inst., WILLIAM D., infant son of Alonzo Hutchins, aged 12 weeks.

In this village on the 9th inst., ESTHER B., eldest house, Devonshire, England, and wife of David A daughter of the late Rev. Charles P.Langford, of StoreMabie, in the 26th year of her age.

THE BOQUET.

For the Poughkeepsie Caskot.
EDUCATION.

Written to be sung by the pupils of a school at an examination.
Not the warriors' thrilling story

Of their deeds on battle plains, Where the brave gain wreaths of glory To reward them for their pains; Not the magic charms of fashion, Which its millions lead astray, Nor the sad effects of passion,

Shall employ our song to-day. But we'll sing of education,

Choisest gem, and noblest prize, Held in highest estimation,

By the thinking, good and wise: Here are laurel wreaths of glory Gained without a crimson stain, And the widow's woful story

Does not mingle with the strain. The fair sun of Science shining, Unobstructed, clear, and bright, With the charms of virtue joining, Fills each bosom with delight; Blooming fields of pure enjoyment,

Full of flow'rets, rich, and rare, Give the mind a sweet employment, While it gathers treasures there. Gold is but an empty bubble,

Fleeting as the restless tide; Fashion's ways are rife with trouble, And a thousand ills beside;

But the worth of education,

Thought can hardly realize,

Yet we live in expectation

Soon to gain, and grasp the prize.

Once more the hand that smooth'd my clustering curls,
And led me to the garden, pointing out
Each fragrant flower and bud, or drawing back
My foot, lest I should careless crush the worm
That crawled beside one.

And that gentle tone,
Teaching to pat the house-dog, and be kind
To the poor cat, and spare the little flies

Upon the window, and divide my bread
With those that hunger'd, and bow meekly down
To the gray-headed man, and look with love
On all whom God had made.

And then her hymn
At early evening when I went to rest,
And folded closely to her bosom, sat
Joining my cheek to her's, and pouring out
My broken music, with her tuneful strain :-
Comes it not back again that holy hymn,
Even now upon iny ear?

But when I go

To my lone bed, and find no mother there,
And weeping kneel to say the prayer she taught,
Or when I read the Bible that she loved,

Or to her vacant seat at church draw near,
And think of her, a voice is in my heart,
Bidding me early seek my God, and love
My blessed Savior.-

Sure that voice is her's,-
I know it is, because these were the words
She us'd to speak so tenderly, with tears,
At the still twilight-hour, or when we walk'd
Forth in the Spring amid rejoicing birds,
Or whispering talk'd beside the winter fire.

-Mother! I'll keep thy precepts in my heart, And do thy bidding.

Then, when God shall say, My days are finished, will he give me leave To.come to thee? And can I find my home, And see thee with thy glorious garments on, And kneel at the Redeemer's feet, and beg That where the mother is, the child may dwell?

LYDIA HI, SIGOURNEY.

THE MERRY HEART.
I would not from the wise require
The lumber of their learned lore;
Nor would I from the rich desire

A single counter of their store.
For I have ease, and I have health,
And I have spirits light as air;

And, more than wisdom-more than wealth,
A merry heart, that laughs at care.
Like other mortals of my kind,

I've struggled for Dame Fortune's favor;
And sometimes have been half inclined
To rate her for her ill behavior.
But Life was short-I thought it folly
To lose its moments in despair;
So slipped aside from melancholy,

With merry heart, that laughed at care. And once, 't is true, two witching eyes

Surprised me in a luckless season; Turned all my mirth to lonely sighs,

And quite subdued my better reason, Yet 't was but love could make me grieve, And love, you know, 's a reason fair; And much improved, as I believe,

The merry heart, that laughed at care.

So now, from idle wishes clear,

I make the good I may not find; Adown the stream I gently steer,

And shift my sail with every wind. And half by nature, half by reason,

Can still with pliant heart prepare
The mind, attuned to every season,

The merry heart, that laughs at care.
Yet, wrap me in your sweetest dream,
Ye social feelings of the mind!
Give, sometimes give, your sunny gleam,
And let the rest good humor find.
Yes, let me hail and welcome give
To every joy my lot to share ;
And pleased and pleasing let me live,
With merry heart, that laughs at care.

H. H. MILMAN.

THE DISMISSED.

"I suppose she was right in rejecting my suit,
But why did she kick me down stairs?"
Halleck's Discarded.

The wing of my spirit is broken,

The day-star of hope has declined;
For a month not a word have I spoken,
That's either polite or refined.
My mind's like the sky in bad weather
When mist-clouds around us are curled:
And, viewing myself altogether,

I'm the veriest wretch in the world.

I wander about like a vagrant,

I spend half my time in the street;
My conduct's improper and flagrant,

For I quarrel with all that I meet.
My dress too is wholly neglected,
My hat I pull over my brow,
And I look like a fellow suspected
Of wishing to kick up a row.
At home I'm an object of horror
To boarder and waiter and maid;
But my landlady views me with sorrow,

When she thinks of the bill that's unpaid.
Abroad my acquaintances flout me,

The ladies cry, "Bless us, look there!" And little boys cluster about me,

And sensible citizens stare.

One says,
"He's a victim to Cupid,"
Another," His conduct's too bad,"
A third, "He is awfully stupid,"

A fourth, "He is perfectly mad,"
And then I am watched like a bandit,

My friends with me all are at strife-
By heaven, no longer I'll stand it,
But quick put an end to my life!

I've thought of the means-yet I shudder
At dagger or ratsbane or rope;
At drawing with lancet my blood, or
At razor without any soap.
Suppose I should fall in a duel,

And thus leave the stage with eclat;
But to die with a bullet is cruel,

Besides 't would be breaking the law.

Yet one way remains-to the river
I'll fly from the goadings of care-
But drown?-oh the thought makes me shiver-
A terrible death, I declare,

Ah no! I'll once more see my Kitty,

And parry her cruel disdain, Beseech her to take me in pity, And never dismiss me again.

GEO. P. MORRIS.

From the U. S. Magazine and Democratic Review.
SONNET.

VILW FROM THE CROW'S NEST, NEAR WEST POINT.
Beauty and grandeur mingle in the scene!

Lo! to the north a living landscape lies,

On which the gazer dwells with ravished eyes,— Hills, plains and valleys, robed in cheerful green; Farms, gardens, hamlets; bustling market towns,

Washed by the waters of old Hudson's stream, Dancing and sparkling in the sun's bright beam, And ploughed by ships, barks, steamers. Southward ⚫ frowns

An Alpine fortress with its ruined walls,

'Neath which spreads out a classic, rock-girt plain, Studded with banners, tents and martial hallsSacred to honor may they e'er remain !

On every side, in majesty severe,

Huge mountains rise, and God's own strength is here!

BENJAMIN F. BUTLER.

LOVE.

There was an evil in Pandora's box,
Beyond all other woes; yet it came forth
In guise so lovely, that men crowded round
And sought it as the dearest of all treasures.
Then were they stung with madness and despair;
High minds were bowed in abject misery?
The hero trampled on his laurel'd crown,
While Genius broke the lute it waked no more;
Young maidens, with pale cheeks and faded eyes,
Wept till they died. Then there were broken hearts-
Insanity and Jealousy, that feeds

Unto satiety, yet loathes its food;
Suicide, digging its own grave; and Hate,
Unquenchable and deadly; and Remorse-
The vulture feeding on its own life-blood.
The evil's name was LOVE these curses seem
His followers for ever.

LETITIA E. LANDON.

The Lover.

"I found," said Mark, "my nymph alone; I knelt, and poured an earnest prayer: 'Condemn me not through life to groan,Consign me not to fell despair.'

I sighed she wept-I kissed her tears, And-bless me! how she boxed my ears."

THE POUGHKEEPSIE CASKET,

Is published every other SATURDAY, at the office of the POUGHKEEPSIE TELEGRAPH, Main-street, at ONE DOLLAR per annum, payable in advance. No subscriptions received for a less term than one year.

The CASKET will be devoted to LITERATURE, SCIENCE, and the ARTS; HISTORICAL and BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES; MORAL and HUMOROUS TALES; ESSAYS, POETRY, and MISCELLANEOUS READING.

Any person who will remit us FIVE DOLLARS, shall receive six copies.

VOL. II.]

MANSION HOUSE, PO'KEEPSIE.

BY W. DAVIDS.

For the Poughkeepsie Casket.
THE GREEN SCARF.

A PENCIL SKETCH-NO. II.

Among the transient visiters at the Mansion House, during the summer of '36, was an elderly gentleman and daughter from Southern Geor. gia. The daughter was a delicate girl about eighteen years of age, and like many of the young females of the South, had thus early felt the pernicious effects upon her constitution, of inactivity. Accustomed as many are from childhood to have their every call attended to by the obsequious children of Africa, and during the summer season exposed to the torrid heats, they become almost constitutionally inactive, if we may so express it, and the seeds of discase too often find a rich soil wherein to flourish.

Such was the condition of the young lady just mentioned, whose pallid cheek told that which her vivacity could not conccal. Her fa. ther had anxiously watched the gradual fading of the rose upon her check, and when the bland breh of spring called forth the beauties of the season from the bosom of Mother earth, he departed for the north to give his daughter an opportunity to drink at the medicinal fountains of Saratoga, and breathe the pure air of our northern hills. The sudden indisposition of his daugh. ter while on board of the steamer, induced him to land at P., and for a few days they tarried at the Mansion House, until she was able again to travel. Many inquiries were made concerning the name and station of the stranger and his dark-eyed daughter. 'She's from the South' was the most explicit reply that any one could give. The father, for reasons best known to himself, concealed his history, and they depar. ted for Saratoga, leaving gossip in ignorance and conjecture active. She was always seen with a green scarf, and this was one of the data by which to express her identity.

Not so secret was a fine looking young man, who arrived in the village a few days previous to their departure. He seemed to renew an in. timacy, warm and confiding, with the lovely invalid; and when the evening twilight spread its refreshing mantle over the green earth, she was

Time rolled on, and chapter after chapter of startling history was revealed to men. The fierce Seminole, driven by injustice to lift the knife and battle-axe in defence of the graves of his fathers and the wigwam of his wife and children, had raised the warwhoop amid the everglades of Florida, and already the torch had been lighted upon the borders of the white man's dominion. The green prairies and stately forests of the west had no attractions for him-the marshes of HOME were a paradise in comparison. Patriotism, pure as light, burned in his heart, and he virtually declared, White man! there

is eternal war betwixt thee and me.'

It was a calm afternoon in September. The dog-star had disappeared below the horizon, and the cool breezes of autumn gathered fragrance from the balmy orange groves of the South, to greet the appoach of the homeward bound mariner. In every grove the notes of the oriole and nonpariel were heard in mournful contrast with the shrill cry of the painted savage, whose arm was nerved for war. A party of Seminoles had watched for a long time the approach to shore of a dismantled vessel that came slowly floating upon the billows of Tampa Bay. For two days previous a violent storm had swept over sea and land, and the wreck in question was one of its numerous victims. Twenty persons were on board, one of whom was a female, whose fragile form and tender years seemed ill-befitting hardships so severe. Revenge burned in the bosoms of the red warriors, for they had just made a retreat from a field of slaughter. They concealed themselves in a jungle, and when the vessel, without rudder, mast or canvass, was driv. en by the sea breeze upon the sandy beach, with a horrid yell they bounded from their ambush, and with glittering tomahawks sprang upon the deck of the wreck. Manfully did the hardy crew, with marlinspikes and other missiles, contend against their armed assailants. It was a conflict for life. At last the savages overpowered them, and only five of the twenty escaped by retreating into the forest. The young female was taken captive, and, placed upon the shoulders of a stalwart warrior, she was carried to the home of these rude sons of the wilderness.

One of the survivors was a daring youth of twenty three, who retreated not till he saw her to whom he was affianced, hopelessly wrested from his protecting arm. When night approach. ed, he cautiously stole to the shore, and saw with joy the spire of a church pointing above a

A dark cloud loomed up in the western horizon, and distant thunder muttered a warning to the pursuers to speed on. The tempest gathered thick and fast, and night set in, terrible indeed. They took shelter in a thicket, and for a while the rain poured in torrents. All was midnight blackness, save frequent flashes of lightning; but at length the voice of the wind was hushed, the storm-cloud rolled castward, and the light of the moon beamed forth like the propitious dawning of hope. Just as the party were preparing to proceed, a voice came floating upon the gentle night breeze. They listened attentively and the sound grew nearer, and multiplied. It was the language of the Seminolcs, and a moment after several in a group passed by, all eagerly scanning every place that had the appearance of a retreat. They were evidently in search of an escaped victim. The pursuing party followed cautiously after them, as they proceeded toward a lake, not far distant. The Indians had not advanced far before their leader gave a shrill whoop, and all dashed on with arrowy speed down the inclined plane to. wards the lake.

With equal rapidity our pursuing party sped after them. The youth, their leader, was frantic with emotion, as he saw a light female form speed across an opening in the forest, in the di rection of the lake, with the fierce savages in pursuit. He was conscious it was her whom they sought, and love gave him strength and fleetness. For one moment the willows near the margin of the lake hid the savages and their victim from view, but the next, the fair girl stood upon the bald summit of a rock, poised over the placid waters. The sure aim of the rifle of the youth felled the leader of her pursuers as he emerged from the willows, and the others, af frighted, fled. But the maiden heard not, saw not the approach of deliverance, and pausing a moment upon the crest of the rock, she com mitted herself to the care of Heaven, and the lake received the beauteous one into its pure bo

som.

The youth rushed to the brow of the precipice, and measuring with his eye the height for a moment, counted not the cost, but leapt to the rescue of his beloved one. The hand of Provi. dence sustained him, and he bore his precious charge safely to shore. A rude litter was prepared for her, and in haste they returned to Hills