was able, without the slightest hesitation, to place his hand on the right animal.

8. ""Tis well," said the cadi; "return to the tribunal.".

His worship resumed his place, and when the cripple arrived, judgment was pronounced.

Then

"The horse is thine;" said the cadi to BouAkas. "Go to the stable, and take him." to the officer," Give this cripple fifty blows." 9. It was done; and Bou-Akas went to take his horse.

When the cadi, after concluding the business of the day, was retiring to his house, he found BouAkas waiting for him.

"Art thou discontented with my award?" asked the judge.

10. "No, quite the contrary," replied the sheik. "But I want to ask by what inspiration thou hast rendered justice; for I doubt not that the other two causes were decided as equitably as mine. I am not a merchant; I am Bou-Akas, Sheik of Algeria, and I wanted to judge for myself of thy reputed wisdom."

11. The cadi bowed to the ground, and kissed his master's hand.

"I am anxious," said Bou-Akas, "to know the reasons which determined your three decisions."

"Nothing, my lord, can be more simple. Your highness saw that I detained, for a night, the three things in dispute?"

"I did."

12. "Well, early in the morning, I caused the woman to be called, and I said to her suddenly, Put fresh ink in my inkstand.' Like a person who had done the same thing a hundred times before, she took the bottle, removed the cotton, washed them both, put in the cotton again, and poured in fresh ink, doing it all with the utmost neatness and dexterity.

13. "So I said to myself, A peasant's wife would know nothing about inkstands—she must belong to the taleb. "

"Good," said Bou-Akas, nodding his head. "And the money?"

"Did your highness remark that the merchant had his clothes and hands covered with oil?"

"Certainly I did." 14. "Well, I took the money, and placed it in a vessel filled with water. This morning I looked at it, and not a particle of oil was to be seen on the surface of the water. So I said to myself, 'If this money belonged to the oil merchant, it would be greasy from the touch of his hands; as it is not so, the butcher's story must be true.'”

15. Bou-Akas nodded, in token of approval. "Good," said he. "And my horse?

"Ah! that was a different business; and, until this morning, I was greatly puzzled."

"The cripple, I suppose, did not recognize the animal?"

"On the contrary, he pointed him out immediately."

"How, then, did you discover that he was not the owner?"

16. "My object in bringing you separately to the stable was, not to see whether you would know the horse, but whether the horse would acknowledge you. Now, when you approached him, the creature turned towards you, laid back his ears, and neighed with delight; but when the cripple touched him, he kicked. Then I knew that you were truly his master."

17. Bou-Akas thought for a moment, and then said,

"Allah has given thee great wisdom. Thou oughtest to be in my place, and I in thine. But I fear I could not fill thy place as cadi!"

THE REMOVAL OF THE INDIANS.

1. MR. SPEAKER: The gentlemen who favor this project cannot, as it seems to me, have viewed it as it is.

2. We are going to remove the Indians from their homes. An unoffending community, who live, as we do, by husbandry and the industrious trades, are to be driven from their homes to a distant wilderness. They are to go in families; the old and the young, wives and children, the feeble and the sick.

3. And how are they to go? Not in luxurious carriages, they are poor; not in stage coaches, they go to a region where there are none; not even in wagons, nor on horseback, for they are to go in the least expensive manner possible.

4. They are to go on foot; nay, they are to be driven by contract! The price has been reduced, and is still further to be reduced; it is to be reduced by sending them by contract; it is to be screwed down to the least farthing-to eight dollars per head.

5. A community of civilized people, of all ages, sexes, and conditions of bodily health, is to be dragged hundreds of miles, over mountains, rivers, and deserts, where there are no roads, no bridges, no habitations. And this is to be done for eight dollars a head, and done by contract!

6. The question is to be, What is the least for which you will take so many hundred families, averaging so many infirm old men, so many little children, so many lame, feeble, and sick? What will you contract for? The imagination sickens at the thought of what may happen to a company of these emigrants, which may prove less strong, less able to pursue the journey, than was anticipated.

7. Will the contractor stop for the old men to rest, for the sick to get well, for the fainting women and children to revive? He will not; he cannot afford to. And this process is to be extended to every family in a population of seventy-five thousand souls. This is what we call the removal of the Indians!

8. It is very easy to talk of this subject, reposing on these luxurious chairs, and protected by these massy walls, and this gorgeous canopy, from the power of the elements. Removal is a soft word, and words are delusive.

9. But let gentlemen take the matter home to themselves and their neighbors. There are seventyfive thousand Indians to be removed. This is not less than the population of two congressional districts.

10. We are going, then, to take a population of Indians of families who live, as we do, in houses, work, as we do, in the field or the workshop, at the plough and the loom, who are governed, as we are, by laws, who send their children to school, and who attend themselves on the ministry of the Christian faith to march them from their homes, and put them down in a remote, unexplored district.

11. We are going to do it this Congress is going to do it this is a bill to do it! Now, let any gentleman think how he would stand, were he to go home and tell his constituents that they were to be removed, whole counties of them; they must fly before the wrath of insupportable laws; they must go to a distant desert beyond Arkansas, go for eight dollars a head, by contract; that this was the policy of the government; that the bill had passed, the money was voted, you had voted for it, and go they

must.

12. Is the case any the less strong because it applies to these poor, unrepresented tribes? If they

have rights, are not those rights sacred, as sacred as ours, as sacred as the rights of any congressional district?

13. Are there two kinds of rights—rights of the strong, which you respect because you must; and rights of the weak, on which you trample because you dare? I ask gentlemen again to think what this measure is, not what it is called; to reflect on the reception it would meet with if proposed to those who are able to make their wishes respected.

14. Why, sir, if you were to go to the least favored district in the Union, the poorest soil, the severest climate, the most unhealthy region, and ask them thus to remove, were it but to the next state, they would not listen to you- they would not stir an inch. But to take up hundreds and thousands of families, to carry them off unmeasured distances, and scatter them over a wilderness unknown to civilized man they would think you insane, to name it!

A RILL FROM THE TOWN PUMP.

1. Noon, by the north clock! Noon, by the east! High noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, scarcely aslope, upon my head, and almost make the water bubble and smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly, we public characters have a tough time of it!

2. And among all the town officers chosen at March meeting, where is he that sustains, for ą single year, the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed, in perpetuity, upon the Town Pump? The title of "town treasurer" is rightfully mine, as guardian of the best treasure that the town has.