American watchman and Delaware advertiser. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1822-1828, 1826-04-28
ry Wilson, No. 400, Market Street.
From he Raltimnre Patriot.


From The baltimore Patriot
ne belief in the buried gold and in the existence of IL
I, at the place described in the following narrativ
lily prevailed to very general extent ii the ne,g
1000, IN the early days OF the writer. Indeed, wht
e boy, his hair has often stood stiff as porcrpine
!, and his blood quivered in his veins with AN agu
on passing the summit of Cooper's Hill The GAIA
, though varied partially from the original enactmer
ctuaily took place, and quoted The Ghost as well
ears OF the inhabitants tLencefurth,l
DOUGHTY BROM;
Or the Ghost Of Poesten XIII.
Near modern Ilium, less or more
Than three short miles from Hudson's shore,
And neighbouring near the Poesten Kill,
There rose gently slopng hill
Der which, through gloomy forests, lay
The honest Duchman's market way
Upon this hill, as legends tell
A ghosty spectre us'd 10 dwell,
And nightly with chosen band
Of motley spirits look his stand
IT'S said that pots OF gold were hid
In this lone spot by Robert Kid;
And that, to guard the god the ghost
Thus nightly took its vigil post.
Most true it is, the wight beated,
BY drink, or by dull market fated,
Would shut his eyes and stop his ears,
10 blind his doubts and hush his fears.
As, whether in sober state or not,
He pass'd this ghostly fatal spot.
IT'S said The ghost tin chief each night
Assumed different form and plight;
S. memes heaslless woman stood,
The centinel of the lonely wood;
A man, at other times, W0'ld stand,
With bloody throat aud CORY hand;
While minor spirits roam'd around,
Al leisure, in the l,auted gro, nd
Paup Roon, from Tr. y, came hone one night,
In m ST horror. faded plight -
"lte SEEM" he sad, and wIp'd his brow,
De kost-oh hon! 1t vas mine vrow p
Hanse Conrad SAID, returning late,
"Ife de kost -mne Zeister Kate ~
And all saw some thing, bad or good,
Whener by night they pass'd the wood.
Now Doughty r, om--who, it is said,
Meier feat'd the living the dead;
c uld take the stoutest by the tn ntte,
And fright the bravest W TIL bottle,
Could take the short tai.ed COW and give her
A long tail as he pass'i the river
And thus deceive her owner's eyes,
And dive her off his lawful prize -
This Doughty Brom, say, one n'ght,
Just halt-and-haIf, his usual plight,
Was seen to start from Poesten XIII,
In the direction of the hill
All mouths aud eyes were soon expanded
VIII re goest thou, Brom |? each one demanded,
Brom turned and gave a look half serious,
And half thai doubtful leer mysterious,
Which knowing ones assume when they
Are bent upon some great essay.
A rusty sah,e forth he drew;
A rusty pistol held to view;
An oaken club he twirl'd around,
And pointed to the haunted ground.
"The Ghost--the God--ere rising sum-
" The battle shall be fought and won"
Thus spoke the hero and at will,
Bent forward to the fatal HIT
"Let's follow him." said every one
"This night will some dread deed be done %
Brom reach'd the hill and at the foot.
He sat him down upon a roots
Drew forth the pistol, pick'd the flint,
And ascertan'd the ball was mt;
The sabre tried-its edge and metal,
Its due efficiency to settle;
The oaken club he next inspected,
And no deficiency detected;
hovj or't" says he, and left his post,
To meet with courage firm, the ghost.
They met! The ghost was standing still,
Beside The road, upon the hill
giant form, in male attire,
Besmeared with gore and breathing fire.
q Take dat % says Brom, and at its head,
Let fly the pistols charge of lead:
The Ghost flash'd fire, and, all around,
The embers sparkled on the ground;
Sand now take dis 2" says he, and drew.
His sword and ran the spectre through!
Defence the Ghost no other made,
Than holding fast the here's blade.
Brom now his oaken club applied,
Der head and shoulders, back and side,
While hre and blood the spirit spat,er'd,
Till all its substance Brom had SHATTERED.
The dreadful deed of death is done;
The fight is Ger, the victory won;
And Doughty Brom surveys the field,
To see what booty it will yield.
And first the slain the conquered ghost,
Though dead. he fear'd tapproach almost,
For even its fire yet sparkled round,
In all directions, on the ground:
Between the fiery sparks he stepp'd,
And close up to the body crept
Reach'd forth to feel the lifeless lump,
EXCLAIMED, " II ish a rotten Scatu,np!f
"Oh Santa Claus it ish most true,
STUNT all my golf ish rotten too.'' PYTHIAs
b. The curious readers may wish to know where
led the fire and blood, profusely exhibited in I'll
described bloody battle The phosphorescence efrone
and the imagnations of the believers in ghosts, ar
d as an explanation. p.
From the Cheshire Gazette.
PEEP AT THE INDIANS OF '49.
story is the grand spy glass which enables u
&c view of variety Of inferestinp ohircta n