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 YANKEE SKILL AND INDIAN ADROITNESS.

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��also, in some degree to Indian instruc- tion and guidance, he had added the skill which superior opportunities of training on his part, as a white man, had afforded him.

The above incident, which I heard related by Col. Carrigain many years ago, I have reduced to writing at the suggestion of the Rev. Dr. Rankin, of Washington city, — both of us, at the time of our street meeting, being in too great haste — the one either to hear, or the other to relate, the story. The subjoined hasty note, which I wrote to the doctor the next day, will explain, somewhat, his interest in the matter, — his Christian name of " Jere- miah Eames" having been given to him in baptism, in respect to a well- remembered and honored resident of Coos county, New Hampshire. The records of the county, and of the New Hampshire legislature, will bear wit- ness to the respectability and worth of the name of Eames.

"I did not stop you yesterday, my dear Sir, with a view to giving any news- paper notoriety to the story I might tell ; but merely to relate what had long been in my mind, and was brought to the surface by the casual concur- rence of your middle name with the surname of one of the reported sub- jects of the story."

I am not aware that Col. Carrigain 's anecdote has ever been published, but have thought it worth occupying a spare page in your valuable periodical. Such was once his official standing in New Hampshire, his extensive ac- quaintance, and his well-known genial companionship, that a re-publication of the following tribute, to the m:m- ory of one who is said to have first given to New Hampshire the name of the " Granite State," may not be inap- propriate. It once had, as written by me, without my name, a limited circula- tion about the time of his decease.

Washington, D. C, Dec. 18, 1882.

��Fn t Memory of Philip Carrigain.

��A native and long a resident ofConcord, N. H.; born in \"'l ; died in 1842,— aged 70.

BY OEORGE KENT.

A requium for the dead !

A dirge of passing woe — The solemn measured tread

Of mourners as they go : The shroud that wraps the clay,

In silence of the tomb, The " dust to dust *' all say

Earth ! give the sleeper room.

Room ! for the wasted form,

The spirit's sunken eye — Room for a heart once warm

With tenderest sympathy. Room for the brother worm

His revels dark to hold — Room for corruption's grasp

The body to enfold.

But not — oh no ! — no room

The spirit freed would claim — Earth has no power to doom

To dust the immortal frame. Soaring to woi'lds above.

She scorns the things of earth. Dyiug to time, to prove

The bliss of Heavenly birth.

Sure. then, that noble part.

" Touch'd to fine issues," lives — That spirit, and that heart.

Joy still receives and gives. Brother ! thy memory green

Shall in our souls abide. Despite Time's scythe so keen,

Or his effacing tide.

What though no kindred near

Watch'd o'er thy parting- sleep — Though few by nature dear

Are call'd to wake and weep ; — Thy country was the world,

Thy countrymen, mankind — Thy fame, so wide unfurl'd.

Like thy heart, unconliu'd.

A chord responsive wakes

in many a throbbing breast- On our rapt vision breaks

That song, "Our Nation's Guest."' Xor shall it be his fate

To pass unsung away, Who gave our " Granite State "

A name to live for aye !

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