®Bc {braiiclfc. 
Correspondence of Moore’s Rural j5ew-Yorker. 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI, 
— 
BT AJIELIE PETTIT. 
At last muslins, frills, ribbons, anrl all the 
paraphernalia of a summer trip, were stowed 
away and securely locked and strapped in, lest 
their lightness should cause them to float away 
“into thin air," and with ourselves were all 
aboard the steamer bound up the Mississippi. 
Already, while the bell was sounding, and the 
last link that bound us to the pier was with¬ 
drawn, we fancied we could hear the voice of 
Minnehaha “calling to us in the distance," 
while Minneapolis and Minnetonka in far-old Min¬ 
nesota allured ns on, as do ail Minnies, by their 
sweet-sounding names. 
“ It is not we, but yon, who need'commiscra- 
tion,” said our friends who were to remain in 
the city, as we entered the stifling cabin, aud 
who, when they bade us bon voyage aud adieu, 
seemed not at all sorry to be left behind; but 
what mattered the heat, when in imagination we 
were already snuffing the exhilarating air of the 
Northland. My sister remembered, with a sigh, 
her snowy bed, with its generous pillows and 
luxurious, airy room, as she took possessionjof 
the diminutive state-room. To me, a little ro¬ 
mance-dazed as I am, they seemed, in their 
minuteness, fit entrances to fairy-laud. 
As we steamed away a fine breeze arose, and 
the glamour of an afternoon, like unto those of 
the land where “ it seemed always afternoon," 
was spread over the low banks, tree-bordered, 
and waters, dark and turbid, of a river here in¬ 
teresting only by its breadth of waters, flowing 
away to a far-distant sea. Gradually the banks 
become higher and bolder, until one hundred 
and forty-four miles from 8t. Louis, we see 
Hannibal, curled up in a quiet dell among the 
hills, and spreading out its arms upon the 
heights, as If it meant at no distant day to occupy 
beautiful mansions and proud gardens overlook¬ 
ing the water,—a place, we imagine, of future im¬ 
portance and beauty. A short stop for freight 
and passengers, and away we steam again, ever 
northward, till we find Quincy, perched upon as 
many hills as ancient Rome, and picturesque 
from its situation. Though but a city in em¬ 
bryo,—a diamond half-cut,—it looks pleasant. 
We spend the half-hour of our stay watching 
some scone of urchins plnylug at“mermeD," 
giving, swimming and plunging into the Father 
of Waters as fearlessly as if it were some moun¬ 
tain brook of wading possibilities. 
The scenery becomes more and more grand as 
we advance, ana as wo glide octwccn high bums 
and castelated peaks, silent and uninhabited, 
eave by wild fowl, we can fancy the wild enthu¬ 
siasm, the fear, the awe that filled the bosoms of 
the first explorers. Truly Is the Mississippi 
named “the Grand," “the Father." Still on, 
on we sail, and still broad and deep the waters 
stretch away in the distance. Still we pass 
beautiful islands, majestic heights, aud towns, 
busy and brisk, wherever Nature had made a 
good landing. Keokuk, Burlington, Davenport, 
Rock Island and Dubuque, are the largest and 
most important; all thriving, clean-looking vil¬ 
lages. A short distance above Keokuk are the 
Rapids, not at all dangerous when going up, 
with the water at its present high stage; above 
Davenport, also, are some twenty miles more of 
rapids, which require a steady, competent pilot 
to get through successfully, especially at low 
water and on a downward trip. 
On the last evening of the voyage it was an¬ 
nounced by our excellent Captain, W. P. Eight, 
that we were entering Lake Pepin; and wc went 
above to see a most beautiful, clear, deep water, 
embosomed among the hills, cradled in the broad 
lap of Nature. Long we lingered in the pilot¬ 
house, while Lake City, girdled by waters, faded 
away iu the distance; and the evening shadows 
gathered round Maiden’s Rock as we told over 
the old legend, and scanned the wild of waters, 
thinking perchance we might catch a glimpse of 
the phantom maiden, urging her birch canoe to 
meet her lover, or takiog again that fatal leap into 
the hungry waves. It was finally decided that 
I should write a poem upon the subject—hut I 
found myself capable only of the following tri¬ 
fling verses: 
maiden’s bock. 
Silent and grand the bold and rocky height 
Looks down upon a calm and placid lake, 
While the soft footsteps of the summer night 
Upon the watery plain no echoes wake. 
Bat as the twilight shadows fall apace. 
And all the Landscape creeps into the shade, 
Winona, daughter of a dusky race, 
The legend says, revisits rock and glade; 
And stands again beside the fatal wave. 
And softly chants her wild and mournful song, 
Then springs again into her watery grave, 
And hack to spirit land is borne along! 
The fifth morning of our journey found us 
looking through a slow, misty ram upon 8t. 
Paul. Nearly all the passengers went ashore at 
once. Our party, by invitation of our host, re¬ 
mained to take a farewell breakfast with him, 
and after ample justice had been done a generous 
meal, we set out for Park Place, a hotel pleas¬ 
antly situated upon high grounds in the sub¬ 
urbs. The oool, healthful air and qniet were 
here the only attractions, as the house is very 
indifferently kept, 
Four days served to familiarize iu with the 
city. We found it a pleasant, clean, thriving little 
place. St. Paul has many fine stone mansions 
scattered in shady nooks among the hills, sev¬ 
eral quaint, low * churches, four or live good 
hotels, and a cathedral, apparently well-built, 
looking solid and compact, but with no archi¬ 
tectural beauty. It is said that, not having been 
erected according to contract, the edifice is con¬ 
demned to be torn down. It has evidently cost 
a vast sum of money, and the waste seems deplor¬ 
able. Lake Como, three miles distant, was de¬ 
scribed to me as a lovely sheet of water, and if 
half as beautiful as the water-lilies, brought 
from it by our friends, it well deserves their 
eulogies. Sat' day we “took up our line of 
march," by railway ten miles, to Minneapolis. 
Found the busy little town swarming with peo- 
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THE ORIGINAL TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES US' NEW YORK. 
During the past year a new impulse has been 
given to the cause of Temperance, aud the advo- | 
oatee of total abstinence are greatly encouraged. 
The formation of a Congressional Temperance 
Society, last winter, was a movement in the 
right direction, which naturally attracted much 
attention, and exerted a power r ul influence 
throughout the Union. State and other large 
Temperance Societies have since been organized 
and revived, and many secret associations — 
such as the “Good Templars," “Army of Tem¬ 
perance," “Sons of Temperance," “Temple 
of Honor," &c., &c.,—have been organized 
and received hosts of active and enthusiastic 
members in various parts of the country. 
Though recently organized, the order of Good 
Templars iu this city has over three hundred 
members, and the Army of Temperance has 
a large and rapidly increasing membership. 
Reports from all quarters show the rapid pro¬ 
gress of temperance, and the new interest and 
zeal so generally manifested indicate the inaugu¬ 
ration of a long-needed reformation. 
pie, a great proportion of whom were invalids, 
seeking health. 
Wc were soon off to Minnehaha. A drive of 
four fabulously short miles—does not pleasant 
company practically annihilate distance ? — 
bronght ns all unawares upon the gem of gems, 
picture of pictures, “thing of beauty and joy 
forever’’—the falls of Minnehaha. It is not 
Minnehaha the grand, the magnificent, the 
splendid; but Minnehaha, the pure, thebewitch- 
lug, thf beloved. Fancy a broad ribbon of bine, 
rippling and winding through emerald meadows, 
curved and twisted as If the wind had been play¬ 
ing among its silky folds, suddenly slit, into a 
myriad shining threads, each dropping off count¬ 
less pearls, flashing out. all their opal splendors 
and changing, in different lights, to every glorious 
gem that we picture in the sapphire-tinted walls 
of Paradise, while the mnsic of their tinkling 
fall floats up like angel voices calling from the 
blue ether, and you dimly fancy Minnehaha. 
As we stood hushed and spell-hound by such 
a vision ot loveliness. Captain J. broke the 
silence, exluiming, “How glorious ’twould be 
to have this in one’s doorvard. How deliciously 
one could fall asleep with that music the lost 
earthly sound before drifting into the land of 
dreams. What company for restless nights or 
unhappy days. 1 am going behind the fall; Miss 
Ajmelik, will you go?" A prophetic vision of a 
damp, dripping young woman, with threads of 
green through a white dress spreading out into 
irregular patches and blotches of sickly hue, 
hair limp, mid gaiters wringing and ruined, 
flashed through Miss Amelie’s bruin and caused 
her reluctantly to decline. Gen. M- had 
faced cannon, but feared neuralgia; Eon. Mr. 
B—— had tt sick wife to care for; Mrs. M-was 
an invalid, and consequently the Captain went 
alone, and emerged, saturated, hut delighted. 
After our return somebody wrote the “inevita¬ 
ble little poem " which I append. 
MINNEHAHA. 
As musical and silver clear 
Sweet Minnehaha Hows alone, 
As though each drop, an angel’s tear, 
Still echoes back angelic song. 
By distant bill and shady wood. 
It hums a low and cheerful strain, 
Or laughs aloud in merry mood. 
Then sweeps Into the shade agaiu. 
And thus it flows, in sun and shade. 
’Neath willow houghs and tangled vine, 
Bnt never tells io man or maid 
Where it has learned its song divine. 
And then, at last, with shout of glee. 
It leaps adown the rocky way; 
Like myriad pearls from string broke Tree, 
And flashing in the sun’s bright ray. 
And thifl ’twill flow, as thus it sings, 
hrom day to day, from year to year, 
Tl fi Time, grown weary, folds his wings, 
And Heaven on Earth again appear 
In this connection we give an illustration of 
interest to all engaged In the temperance move¬ 
ments,—being portraits of the tat* t*r J. B 
Clark, Rev. Lkbpucs Armstrong, Gardiner 
Stow, and J amks Mott, the originators of tem¬ 
perance societies in this State, and a picture of the 
house in which they held their first, temperance 
meeting. Additional interest is given these xnc- 
turns from the fact that Dr. Clark, the principal 
of the movement, died in February last at au ad¬ 
vanced age. Dr. Clark was born in 1778 in 
Northampton, Mass., but began his lubors in the 
cause of temperance in 1800 In Moreau, Saratoga 
county, New York. In 1808 he commenced 
moving to organize a temperance society, and 
finally succeeded in organizing a society in his 
own town composed of the leading citizens. 
The first meeting was held at the tavern of Mr. 
Petek L. Mawnev, a picture of which we give. 
It was torn down in 1852. In 1820, Dr. Clark 
was a member of the State Legislature, and in 
1848 he was one of the Electors of President and 
Vice-President. 
atioiis 
WEALTH OF THE ANCIENTS. 
Crcesus possessed, in landed property, a for¬ 
tune equal to £1,700,000; he used to say that a 
citizcu who had not sufficient to support an 
army or a legion, did not deserve the title of a 
rich inau. The philosopher Seneca had a for¬ 
tune of £8,500,000. Tiberius, at his death, left 
£10,024,000, which Caligula spent in twelve 
mouths. Vespasian, on ascending the throne, 
estimated all the expenses of the Slate at £35,- 
000,000. The debts of Milo amounted to £600- 
000. Caesar, before he entered upon any office, 
owed £2,000,000. He had purchased the friend¬ 
ship of Coro for £500, and that of Lucius Paulns 
for £300,1X10. At the time of the assassination 
of Julius Coesar, Antony was in debt to the 
amount of £3,000,000; he owed the eutn to the 
Ides of March, and it was paid by the Kalends of 
April. lie spent £147,000,000. Appius spent id 
debauchery £500,000, and finding, on examina¬ 
tion of his affairs, that he had only £80,000, 
poisoned himself, because he considered that 
sum insufficient for his maintenance. Caesar 
gave Satulla, the mother of Bruins, at an enter¬ 
tainment she gave to Antony, dissolved in some 
vinegar, a pearl worth £80—not several hundred 
pounds, as is commonly stated—and she swal¬ 
lowed it. 
DANGEROUS PAPER. 
There is a great difference iu the combusti¬ 
bility of common papers. Enameled card paper, 
on account of its compact body and the presence 
of mineral matter, white lead or barytes, is 
quite disinclined to burn; in fact some kinds are 
practically fire proof. White writing and print¬ 
ing paper can seldom be lighted by a spark, and 
when ignited by a flame, it requires dexterity to 
keep it burning. On the other hand, there is a 
common reddish-yellow paper which, in some 
circumstances, is as dangerous as gunpowder. 
It takes tire by the smallest spark, and hums 
like tinder; when once lighted. If left alone, it 
is sure to be consumed completely. All the yel¬ 
low and buff paper which I have tested, out of 
Rev. Lebeeus Armstrong, who acted with 
Dr. Clark in the first meetings, mid was one of 
the Committee to draft the Constitution, -was 
horn No vein r>er <Sf| i in Hertford, Westclics- 
tcr county, New York, and removed with his 
parents to Ballston, Saratoga county, in 1783. 
In 1804 he was installed, as pastor of the Congre¬ 
gational Church in Northumberland, and in 1808 
eo-operated with Mr. Clark in organizing tiler 
first temperance society. He continued to preach 
until within a few years of his death. 
Gardiner Stow was a law student in the office 
of a Mr. Weston in Suudy Hill, across the river 
from Moreau, In 1808, when he joined Dr. Clark’s 
temperance society. Ee afterward removed to 
Troy, and became one of the leading lawyers of 
that city, where he died iu 1806. 
James Morr, who still survives his early com¬ 
rades, Is a Quaker. Ho was born in Dutchess 
county, New York, in 1783. ne removed to 
Moreau in 1807, and the following year assisted 
in organizing the temperance society, lie is a 
farmer, and has held various town offices. 
which envelopes are made, partakes more or 
less of the same character. I have no doubt 
that such paper has been the occasion of some of 
the tires which have been otherwise unexplained, 
such as the fires iu paper warehouses and offices 
of professional men. A spark of fire, or the 
stump of a lighted cigar, falling in a waste bas¬ 
ket containing yellow envelopes with other kinds 
of paper, would have a good chance of setting 
the whole on fire.— Prof. Seeley. 
A MAGIC TRICK. 
At a celebrated Parisian restaurant, iu 1861, 
an extempore bet was decided, interesting lu its 
way. A Mississippi gentleman won a big pile. 
Ee bet that he would bring five hundred drops 
out of an empty bottle from which the last 
aupcrnneular had been drained. It was done in 
the fairest way, without any dodge, on the purest 
natural philosophical principles. There is agreat 
deal of moisture still remaining in the bottle, 
only it is dispersed all over the Inside surface, In 
homeopathic particles, too minute to be poured 
out in any way. 
You tuke.the bottle, hold it nearly horizontal, 
shake it up well, and strike the lower part of the 
neck repeatedly on your hand. After you have 
manipulated it in this way for a minute or two, 
(the length of time depends on the performer’s 
skill,) the moisture becomes collected aud con¬ 
densed in the neck, and then you can jerk out on 
a plate or a sheet of paper more drops in a quarter 
of a minute than you can count In a quarter of 
an hour. It made quite a sensation at the time, 
but soon spread about. A Frenchman who was 
present exhibited the trick the next night at the 
Maison d’Or. 
Sweets and Digestion.—I f sugar is coated 
with fruit until it thoroughly penetrates the 
pulp—as in pics, jellies, and preserves—there is 
a chemical change, a uuiou of the sugar aud the 
fruit; the fruit partakes of the nature of the su¬ 
gar, giving up its natural juices and qualities, 
making the mass an indigestible substance. As 
sugar preserves fruits from decay, so tt preserves 
them from digestion. There are many causes of 
derangements of the digestive apparatus, but the 
use of sugar and molasses is one of the greatest, j 
—Herald of Health. 
oa&ittg tm flje iiottttg* 
BEAUTY. 
Beautiful faces, they that wear 
The light of a pleasant spirit there 
It matters little If dark or fair. 
Beatitiftil hands, are they that do 
The work of the noble, good, and true, 
Busy for them the long day through. 
Beautiful feet, are they that go 
Swiftly, to lighten another’s woe, 
Through summer’s heat or winter’s snow. 
Beautiful children, If rich or poor, 
Mfho walk the pathways sweet and pure. 
That lead to the mansions strong and sure. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
TALKS WITH 0UE BOYS AUD GIRLS. 
BY UNOLE PAUL. 
FALL, 
Little boys and girls of the Rural Circle, 
do you know what we mean by “ Fall?" 
“Yes," says a bright-eyed little fellow, and a 
whole gropp of voices echo “yes," “yes," “yes." 
“You mean the time wheu the leaves turn 
red, and drop off the trees," says our bright¬ 
eyed friend, “and the chestnuts fall out of their 
burs, and the beech-nuts, aud the walnuts; and 
we go off nutting in the woods, and. have, Oh! 
such lota of fun!"—aud, really, his face glows 
so with the thought that wc almost wish wo were 
a boy agaiu back there among the hills, and 
could go nutting once more with the boys and 
girls as we used to do years ago! 
Well, little folks, fall has come—wc don’t 
know where from, exactly, nor do wc know just 
where it went to twelvemonths since, but it has 
conic. Charlie went, bright and early this 
morning to get the cows, aud wheu he came iu 
he said there was frost all along down the lane. 
It covered the top of the fences, and made the 
prettiest kind of a white coverlid ou the grass. 
Maggie, when she fed her chickens, (the hon- 
bahics of that old “clucker" that would set,) 
found tlm poor things skivering “am# peeping 
away at a great rate, as if they wereCcalling for 
a larger supply of feathers. Glnd enough they 
were to snuggle up under the old hen, who, as 
Maggie said, “ought to be ashamed of herself 
for having little chicles around this time of year." 
There isn’t a hit of doubt, then, that fall has 
come. The frost told Charlie of it, as it took 
hold of hiB fingers and seemed to whisper to 
him, “ l am the same fellow that was with you 
Vast, winter, up on the pond;" and the chickens 
pooped loudly of it to Maggie. We heard the 
leaves whispering to each other about, It, too, as’ 
we came along under the trees. A little sadly 
they spoke of it, for they knew- that very soon 
they would he only dead leaves, rustling over 
the ground, all their life aud beauty gone. 
Are we glad it has como? Are you, boys? 
Are you, girls? Of course you arc! Wc did 
not need to ask. It is not ao long a time since 
wo were a boy aud gir—no, we don’t mean all 
that, only a boy—that we have forgotten how 
we uaed to look forward to the first snow-storm. 
When October came used to think, just as 
w'c presume many of you arc thinking now— 
“ next month will be November, and we shall 
have snow, and Thanksgiving, and coasting, and 
may be some skating; und won’t it be jolly?" 
But now you have all this month lu which to 
gather your apples, aud walnuts, and butternuts, 
to go off on the hills after chestnuts in merry 
parties, to ride out in the cornfield with John, 
and back on a load of yellow pumpkins—aud may 
you all enjoy the month greatly! 
For we don’t want you to get the uotion, 
young friends, that the tall is a gloomy sort of 
time, with nothing glad iu it. It is no such 
thing. If you hear any of your grown-up 
friend* say It is sad, ancl talk dolefully about it, 
just tell them it is glorious , aud wc’Il back up 
what you say! To be sure, last night’s frost 
spoiled the flowers that Kate haa been cherish¬ 
ing so fondly, but she must not feel bad about 
that. “ Roses will bloom again," says the song, 
and it says truly. There arc just as bright and 
pretty flowers down In the earth there, under 
those that the frost killed, as any that Kate 
loved. But you need not dig down now to find 
them. You wouldn’t find them if you should. 
But they will come, only wait a little while. 
There’s auother Juno away off somewhere, where 
eight, or ten, or twelve other Junes that yon 
know of came from, and it will come in good 
time. 
Now, boys, don’t forget to gather all the nuts 
and apples, and the girls had better go with you, 
so as to make nut und apple gathering pleasant. 
Aud after you have gathered them we will come 
around some evening, (of course you wllljbeglad 
to see us,) aud eat some with yon, and perhaps 
tell you a Btory our grandmother told us many a 
year gone by. 
Axe Grinding — A Story for Boys. —This is 
a term borrowed from a story told by Franklin. 
A little boy going to school was accostedjby a 
man carrying an axe. The man calls thejboy all 
kinds of pretty and endearing names, and induces 
him to enter a yard where there is a grindstone. 
“ Now, my pretty little feltow," says he”witk 
the axe, “only turn that handle, andjyou’UJsee 
something pretty." The boy turns and tut^is, 
and the man holds the axe to the stone and 
pours water over it till the axe is ground. 
Straightway he turns with changed voice and 
fierce gesture on the boy:—“You abandoned 
little miscreant,” he cries, “ what do you incai; 
by playing truant from school? You deserve^ 
good thrashing. Get you gone this instant!” 
“ And alter this,” adds Franklin, “ when i/ny- 
hody flattered me I always thought he ‘had an 
axe to grind.’" 
C 
