Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, May 14, 1836
A rare instance of the sagacity and affection of one of the canine species, occurred, within the precincts of this place, a few evenings since. An elderly man, residing a short distance from town, on a visit here, took occasion to become “pretty essentially corned,” in the course of the afternoon, and, in the early part of the evening, attempted to reach home, which lies not far from the road leading to Pottsville. Having got to the top of the hill a little beyond town, his burden became insupportable, and he laid himself down to sleep immediately across the road; he was accompanied by his dog, a large cur, which coiled himself close to his body. The weather was cold, and the night very dark. The Pottsville stage came careering along as usual, and must have passed over the man, had not the dog sprung furiously at the leading horses, and turned their course. The driver saw what he believed to be the body of a man and immediately stopped.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, September 5, 1835
Mr. Clayton the aeronaut made a splendid ascension at Lexington, Ky. on the 21st. After rising to an altitude of a mile or upwards, and when about two miles from the city. Mr. C. let go a parachute, containing a small dog, which descended very handsomely, and fell on the farm of Robert Wickliffe, Esq. three miles from the city.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, August 15, 1835
Not long since, a story, from a Nantucket paper, was published respecting a narrow escape of a young man from the jaws of a whale, in the Pacific Ocean. The following is his letter to his mother:
Pacific Ocean. Lat. 5 N. S. Lon. 109 d. W.-Dear Mother-Having a good opportunity to write, I improve it, and state that through the interposition of a kind Providence, my life has been miraculously spared, and I am able to write you-Four weeks ago I was seriously hurt by a whale. The whale stove all three of our boats, and got me in his jaw, knocked about one half the scalp off my head, but did not affect my skull. He stuck two teeth in my breast, and one in each thigh; one wound was six inches long and two deep, and he went off with four irons stuck in him. I suppose, dear mother, this was one of the narrowest escapes from death ever known, and so little hurt! Not a bone broken! And I have so far recovered as to be about, and Capt. Hussey thinks I shall be able to attend to duty, and my boat again in two weeks. This, dear mother, you may suppose will be a small satisfaction to me, but I assure you, that I would rather be in a boat fast to a whale, than anywhere else.
Augustus Male.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, July 18, 1835
The Sea Serpent is occupying his old station off Cape Ann. The last examination made him 40 feet long, and of the diameter of a barrel; color, black; head flat, which it carried even with the water, while its body bent with the waves of the sea, and moved at the rate of four miles an hour.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, March 24, 1838
Mr. G. Decker, of Shawangunk, a young man of spirit and resolution, while on a bear hunt not long since, in the Shawangunk mountains, discovered a large fierce looking black bear up about twenty feet in a large pin oak tree. Mr. D. was not discovered by the bear until he was within gun shot, when he leveled his never failing piece and wounded the monster in his foreleg. The bear sprang from the tree and pursued Mr. D. and before he had time to reload, he was compelled to draw his bowie knife, with which, after a desperate conflict, and with the assistance of a fierce bloodhound, he succeeded in dispatching the monster.-We are happy to say that Mr. D. came off uninjured.-Ulster Rep.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Friday, May 15, 1840
Dr. McNeil, of Springfield, in attempting to ford Macoupin creek on the 12th ultt., had the misfortune to drown both his horses and to loose all his baggage, narrowly escaping with his life. His carriage and harness were saved through the kind attention of the citizens of Carlinville.-Mo. Republican.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Friday, January 18, 1839
As I trotted over the plain I began to feel the cravings of hunger almost to a painful degree; which is not to be wondered at, as I had been twelve hours in hard exercise, without rest, and had eaten nothing on the preceding day. After riding a few miles, I saw a herd of Buffaloes; upon giving chase a young bull fell behind the rest, being so fat that he could not keep up with them. After running them a considerable distance, we came to a narrow steep ravine, and, as I saw the leaders cross directly up the opposite side, I knew that the fat gentleman would follow them as well as he was able. Accordingly, I dismounted, examined my caps, and prepared for a comfortable shot. When the rest had disappeared over the opposite brow, he toiled lazily up the ascent. As soon as he was exactly in the place I wished him to be, and not more than 40 yards off I fired. He turned instantly, gave me a fierce look. He began to run strait towards me; but the ball had been true-he required no second, and rolled dead into the ravine below. I now hobbled my horse, took off my jacket, tucked up my sleeves, drew my knife and prepared to make my coup’ desai, as a butcher.-Previously to eating my savage and solitary meal I looked around. There was not a human being in sight to assist me in turning over the body, which is hard work for two ordinary men, but impossible for one; so I was obliged to content myself with skinning only one side. My knife was not very sharp, and those only who have seen and proved the skin of this hairy monster can judge the labor of the task. After an hour’s unremitting work, I succeeded, and then went to open the body. Without much difficulty I got at the liver, and began to eat, certainly more like a wolf, or Indian than a Christian man. After devouring several large morsels, I saw a Indian hunter coming towards me at full speed. He had been unsuccessful, and was hungry. I was nearly choked with thirst, and, as soon as he arrived, made him signs, that if he would fetch water, I would give him as much to eat as he chose. He nodded assent. When he took out the bladder of the Buffalo-I told him to wash it well, and being it back full of clear water. He went off at a gallop, and, in about a quarter of an hour, came back, having executed his commission. I cannot say that the water was quite crystal, but I never enjoyed a more delicious meal than this raw liver, and the water, such as it was. The Indian also showed me two or three other morsels, which I found excellent; and I strongly recommend to any gentleman who may ever find himself similarly situated, to break a bone and suck the marrow.-Murray’s Travels.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Friday, November 11, 1842
The Yankees can talk about hogs as cutely as whittle a pine shingle, and if some of the cutest could be placed in “the midst of a drove” in the “hog and hominy” regions of the West, the very Land-pikes would grunt approbation to the fine things said of the hog family. Thus reads an extract from the Report on Swine to the Hartford County [Conn.] Agricultural Society:
“The committee are admonished by the past that the subject of swine is one of peculiar delicacy, and one concerning which breeds are more likely than quadrupeds to get excited; and they will endeavor to treat all animals they have occasion to notice, with becoming gravity and due respect. Indeed, the hog is the last animal with whose feelings the committee would trifle. A fat hog has a calm and serene dignity, far surpassing that of Alderman, Bishop, or his holiness himself.
Before entering into a detail of individual merit, the Committee have to say, and they do it with peculiar pride and pleasure, that the pigs of Hartford County are far better bred, and far more moral, than those of the said and sober county of Worcester. At the last fair in Worcester the festivities of the occasion were interrupted by a sanguinary duel between two boars, and the turf on the beautiful green of Worcester was stained, not with human, but with hoggish gore. The Committee are happy to state, that no such disgraceful occurrence marred our festivities, not a provoking word was spoken, not an insulting speech was made, no challenge was given, nor duel fought. When the Committee congratulated the tenants of the pens on this subject the only response heard by the Committee was, that they were not members of Congress, accompanied by a look of surprise, that anyone should think it possible that any pig bred in Hartford County should disgrace himself by dueling. And the opinion seemed to be universal among them that neither honorable pigs, nor honorable men, [members of Congress excepted] would ever have any “affairs of honor” to settle.
Ralph R. Phelps, Ch’n.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Friday, December 6, 1839
In Youatt’s “Humanity to Brutes,” is recorded the following anecdote of a Newfoundland dog.
“A vessel was driven on the beach of Lloyd, in Kent. The surf was rolling furiously; eight poor fellows were crying for help, but not a boat could be got off to their assistance. At length a gentleman came on the beach, accompanied by his Newfoundland dog. He directed the attention of the animal to the vessel, and put a stick into his mouth. The intelligent and courageous fellow at once understood his meaning and sprang into the sea, and fought his way through the waves. He could not, however, get close enough to the vessel to deliver that with which he was charged; but the crew joyfully made fast a rope to another piece of wood, and threw it towards him. He saw the whole business in an instant; he dropped his own piece, and threw it towards him; and then, with a degree of strength and determination almost incredible, he dragged it through the surf and delivered it to his master. A line of communication was thus formed and every man on board was rescued from a watery grave.”
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, September 16, 1837
A wire cage trap was set in Lowell last week for the purpose of catching rats. One large rat went into it and was caught. As soon as he found himself housed in the grated palace, he exerted his utmost strength and succeeded in running off with the cage on his back.