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The Greorgia Literary an
ries* flfprtntent.
Ii. VXBGIiriA FBEWCH.
»Women'* Wo
Against each of the thi
•ere is a thread-bare :
i of the three ‘learned professions'
«** jest,
which from time immemorial has been adopted
by u gentle dullooos” threughont the world—
i he point of theee mummied facetim being to as
sociate medicine wtik manslaughter—law with
lying—and aermoniting with slumber. In like
manner, there are “div«rs and sundry” jests
and sneers, at the expense of woman, quite as
thread-bore and equally sapient, which are per
petrated and poured upon us in installments
something after the manner of John Pheenix’
Oregon rain—that is to eay, about “thirty-six
hours each day, and forty-seven days in the
months»o that if we don’t belie?* them it is
eertainJy not for want of haring “line upon
lint, and precept upon precept.” The world
seems to be over-run with critics upon that
moat mysterious institution, Woman—and we
cannot deny that we lind it quite &mu?ing at
times to see grave gentlemen perched on the
chill summit of abstract principles, sending
forth upon us the indignant blast of truisms
which whistles shrilly over the heads of the
sinners it was designed to prostrate: and we
very much enjoy the grim and ghostly satisfac-
which they drive down upon our <le-
’he** nxtojn*iic .storms of critical
sleet—it seem- u> do them' *o rood*—»nd
then it does ns no harm, not a particle. Wo
man is a strange creature, and in thrt strange
ness which is a speekilitc of her nature, it is not
to be wondered at if she should take a fancy to
laugh at the mechanical moralists who neither
expose her faults nor reform them, but simply
loss words at her—for a “consideration.”
Considering that we have long since come to
look upon this epidemic, critical and advisory,
in the same light in which gentlemen regarded
fiie discussion of the late “Speakership”—that
i<, as an intolerable and unmitigated bore—we
y be pardoned % the regret that cur accom
plished and special correspondent of the “ Cru-
%ader” “L. L. V f ” so well and so favorably
known to our readers, should not have escaped
the contagion. Usually we avoid all such ar
ticles, upon the same principle that the good
housekeeper eschews skim-milk and 9aw-dust
pudding, but in this instance the initials “ L. L.
V.” and it* place In the “ Crusader” prevailed
—and we read. We may mention at setting
out, for the consolation of our lady readers, i hat
our distinguished correspondent is evidently not
** in love” with any of the creations of our lady
novelists, all of which we consider exceedingly
commendable in him, as the “ hands, hearts,
and fortunes” of such would in all probability
be quite as difficult of attainment as are the
houris in the Prophet’s Paradise. He dis
tinctly states that If he “never meets witl. a
woman better than the best heroine he has ever
found in the productions of female novel-wri
ters, he will never marry.” We advise the
ladies to consider this sentence profoundly, be-
fore giving way to despair, as our correspon
dent, a short time after this talks about “ that
charming combination of sense, sensibility, mod
esty, purity and refinement which he thinks
lie often find* in nature”—and doubtless should
he ever fall in love with one of these paragons,
lie will consider her much superior to the best
and finest heroine of romance that the world
has ever heard of ; and we wouldn’t give much
for either his heart or his understanding if he
didn’t. To be pure, we may have entertained
the idea that Ja*« Eyre, or Dinah Morris, or
Grace Leigh, or Theodore Johnstone and many
others of the creations of female novelists, were
quite equal to, and would make good enough
wives fur any ordinary man—indeed for men
not presume
p corres-
of that very self-knowledge, prefer a woman to
an angel. However, we cannot be certain upon
this point, and are happy to know that a com
prehension of all such delicate mysteries is
not expected” of ns.
Again—our accomplished correspondent after
tying that “every one” who has hie or her
favorite heroines of romance, “ will bear him
out in his assertion that those created by men
are far superior to those created by women”—
inquires pertinently, “who is this?” remark
ing that he might “refer it to the superior
knowledge which women have of their own
sex”—he, however, proposes to “explain it in a
way more flattering to the sex in ger eral though
less flattering to female authors,” by saying
that “ the women who write novels, are not the
beat of their sex.” Now, after having been so
distinctly informed that we are “not expected”
to “understand men,” we are as yet undecided
whether it will be strictly orthodox in us to
pretend to “understand” 'women sufficiently to
express an opinion in reference to the sound
ness of the above-mentioned sentiment. We
could earnestly wish that some one “having
authority” wofild assure us as to wliat is ex
pected of us in such a case—whether we shall
gently subside, and devoutly thank our stars
that we, individually, have never made the
most remote pretensions towards becoming a
novelist, and rejoice in the personal friendship
of but one woman who has—or timidly and
with all due deference, intimate that Jane Por
ter and her sister, Frederick Bremer and Maria
Edgeworth, have had some reputation as “good
women”—that Charlotte Bronte, and her sis
ters, Miss Muloch, and Mrs. Barret Browning,
(whose late poetical work entitle* her to a place
among female novelists,) amf Mary Hewitt, ass
spoken of as being well enough in their way—
that even Marion Harland, Susan Warner, Mrs.
Stephens, Mrs. Ford, Mrs. Lee Hentz, and Mrs.
Ketchum, have been mentioned often as “among
the noblest of women” whether among the
best of the sex,” (according to the judgment
of our correspondent), see cannot, of course,
pretend to say. He goes on to add; “the
causes that have made them scribblers, have
sadly lessened their amiabiliiy. Woman’s first
effort is to love; her highest aspiration to be
loved. It is only when she has done the first
hopelessly, or been disappointed in her hopes
of the second, that she grows ambitious, and
desires to make herself a name In the world's
history. She consequently comes to her work
with a soured temper—with a chronic ill-nature
which she has to vent upon somebody. Her
continual desire for the admiration and love of
men, has caused her to consider each one of
her own sex a rival,” Ac. (!) As we have al
ready intimated, our distinguished correspon
dent stands out in the world’s broad sunshine;
with an eye like the lagle’s he pierces the
upper deep” and no faint cloud upon the
sun’s disc escapes his ken, while, with an equal
power, his glance penetrates the lower deeps of
human nature, and every shell, and rock, and
pebble at the bottom lies revealed. And as for
us, we live in the shadow—the shadow of a se
cluded home—and for this reason, perhaps, we
cannot see, like him, the dark spots upon the
bright disc of woman's mind. And in under
this home shadow, sometimes, we form our
little opinions from little premises which we
knew to be true; and oft-times toe it will happen
that our little ways of thinking will differ ma
terially from the great and profound opinions
of those who “ understand,” and are “ ex
pected” to know, everything. True it is that
women write—and we incline to the belief that
they endeavor to picture life as they see it—
but we fail to discover that the majority of them
have chosen authorship as a vent to “ chronic
ill-nature,” or to “revenge imaginary wrongs.”
We think there may be other motives at work,
quite as potent as “ill-nature” and “revenge,”
and though our personal acquaintance with
lady-novelists is but limited, we may be al
lowed to state that the only one we do know
personally, writes from a strong impulse to ex
press the thousand bekutifiil feelings of hex
soul, and for the motherly love and devotion
she bears to her fatherless children. We have
otm first of mav.
fli t. VIRGINIA FRENCH.
CHAPTER II.
“If you’ve got a white waistcoat and a fresh
pair of primrose Alexander’s anywhere about
your clothes, you’d as well array yourself, and
we’ll go this evening and call on those ‘new
ladies on the hill,* as Morgan calls them; what
d’ye say, Cumberland ?” said Tom Anderson
to me, as we lonnged in his room, on the next
evening after our arrival at B .
“All right; I’m agreeable,” I replied, sink
ing down into a comfortable sofa, and throwing
my feet up over the end, a fa Americanos.
“Do you mean to intimate that your heels,
now about three feet higher , than your head,
are ‘all right,’ or do you mean to say you’ll
go ?” inquired Tom, as he walked up to the
mirror, and gave his collar an ‘extra touch.’
I may as well confess, Cumberland, that I’m
getting anxious to sec this paragon of loveli
ness that the fellows are all running distracted
about. As to your being ‘agreeable,’ I may as
well insist now, that"you won’t throw yourself
entirely away into amiability this evening
when—”
“Which lady do they run mad over?” I asked,
interrupting him. “I thought there were two of
them.”
“Feth, an’ so there is, sure,” he answered;
“but it’s the heiress who has brought on the
symptoms of incipient insanity. It takes me
tallic charms to give boys ‘fits’ now-a-days,
you know. And then the other cousin is poor
—has embraced poverty as a profession, so to
speak; in short, she is that much-abused and
long-suffering institution called a school-ma
’am.’?
•As you arc ‘going in to win’ the heiress,
Anderson, may I ask her age ?’’
‘Very pretty age, Horace—about twenty-
four—so Charley Constant says.”
heard it said of a lady,
true,) that when questi
^eveme! iskonV-l
ation and analysis, are “not
expected” If them; and therefore, that all such
pretensions' are quite preposterous. We are
Airther informed that “Women are not per
mitted to go out upon the streets, or to the
clubs, or to the court-room, in order to sketch
men from life. All that she knows of them is
gained by a partial, one-sided view. We ac
cordingly find that th. ir heroes are not men of
the world, but gentlemen of the drawing-room,”
Ac. Of course—Adam Bede, Max Urquhart,
Lars Anders, .ire., are striking instances of
these “gentlemen of the drawing-room.” And
then, the “streets,” “clubs,” and “court-room,”
where the Argus eye of self-interest is ever on
the alert, or a knowledge that the world’s “all-
seeing eye” is upon them, keeps them guarded
and restrained, must, of necessity, be better
places for the study of men, than the home
where all outside restraints are thrown aside
and man appears as—himself. Where do men
tell us to study women ? Is it on the “streets,”
in the ball-room, at the opera? or is it by their
own firesides? And so if we desired to “.sketch
men from the life” we would ask no better or
surer models than the husband, father, brother,
fon, friend, master, and play-fellow, and these
woman can study in her own acknowledged
province—home. If a man be possessed of the
wings of an arch-angel, your surest chance of
catching a glimpse of them will be in the dres
sing-gown dishabille of his own fireside, and if,
unfortunately, he have a cloven foot, you will
be apt to notice it sometime when he is in his
home slippers.
But, our distinguished correspondent goes on
to remark that «* There is a great contrast be-
tween woman as she appears in books written
by writers of lier own sex, and those written
by men. In the former she appears quite as
fsr removed from perfection as those who de
light in the doctrines of human depravity could
wish. If she is good, she is weak and foolish;
if she is sensible, she is anything but good.”
This statement of “balancing of accounts,”
rather conflicts with another that is made some
what later—that is; “Perfect, ojr very bad, are
the only two classes into which a woman di
vides her sex, and those of close observation
usually place the majority in the latter class.”
These two expressions which, in principle con
tradict each other, are, to our mind and expe
rience, equally untrue. We have no objections
whatever that our correspondent should prefer
the heroines of man’s creation; on tho contrary,
it is only natural perhaps that he should, but
in declaring that preference it is not necessary
that he mis-judge and misrepresent woman and
her creations. Helen Mar, and Beulah Benton
—(we take the two instances quoted by “L. L.
V.”) neither of them belong to either of the
“only two classes” into which he says woman
divides her sex—neither of them being “per
feet,” and neither of them “very bad,” by any
means. We are rather amused, too, at another
little inconsistency—when our author stands
up so stoutly in favor of women “adorned with
every perfection of loveliness and majesty,”
and then says, “If one has blemishes—and they
all have,” (the italics are ours,) admitting, un
consciously perhaps, that the “perfection of
loveliness” would not be exactly true to that
“nature,” which he in another paragraph In
«i*is npon. And as to decrying the creations
of any one, either man or woman, because they
are not “lovable,” we cannot regard such as
legitimate criticism, uuless we are quite certain
that ->e author intended to make them “lovea
hie,” and failed in his design. All human na
ture rs not “loveable,” and the largest liberty
in allowed an author in his choice of a subject
—he may aim at being natural, and ‘perfection’
is not natural. “With all our imperfections on
our bead,” we confess that the “perfection of
loveliness and majesty” would be quite a terror
to ns, and something of a bore withal; and we
can not but think that a man who «‘ under
stands’' himself, (and we suppose that is “ex
pected” of them all,) would, in consideration
know it to be
as to why she
pen, weic it
s so proud of
[my very heart
Iy certainly had
been, “disap-
1 flumld never
'not to gratify my husband.
me—he loves me—and it «I
good to please him.” This
neither loved “hopelessly,
pointed”—her life and soul Were a3 clear and
hopeful and beautiful as is this lovely May-day
morning. Yes, we know there are those who
write because of the precious love they receive
from, and give, to noble men—and something
better for the pure, selfish love they give
and receive from the fresh hearts of little chil
dren—and many for something even nobler
still—the love of doing good, which is love to
God! Glad tears spring up to our eyes to knotc
that this is so—that there are among our wo
men authors, those who nerve themselves to the
crushing back of all selfish sorrows, devoting
themselves to the good of those they love—that
there are those who pause amid the sunshine of
their own happiness to dispense its blessings to
others who work for love, and who know that
for them there is no “rival” outside of Heaven!
We see, and are very willing to concede, that
woman does much from her “desire for the love
of men;” yet, we have yet to meet with that
one who has so far forgotten all womanly at
tributes, as to “consider each one of her own
sex a rival.” Women do do a great deal for
“the love of men.” For the loyal love she
bore a craven king, the brave Maid of Orleans
suffered at the stake—for filial and fraternal
love Charlotte Bronte sacrificed her life in
slower and net less terrible martyrdom—and
for the love she bore her fellow-men has Flor
ence Nightingale braved death a thousand times
These are history’s examples; but every day
around ns there are those who for the love of
men suffer and die—or suffer, and what is
sometimes bitterer still, lire—and worse, there
are deluded creatures who sacrifice for meD,
honor, and every shadow of hope here, and
hereafter, and while on earth sink into a hell,
of the horrors of which we cannot even dream.
But, does all this give man the right to sneer
at woman's devotion to himself? We cannot
but regret to know that there are those who
act and speak as though they thought it did.
Says our correspondent: “One woman rarely
pardons another's faults.” This idea of antag
onism among women is an Antiquated sneer,
handed down from father to son, from ihe
‘dark ages.” But as somebody justly says,
sneer is the sting of the worm that betrays the
weakDees of its author.” And in confirmation
of its weakness and its falsity, we have only to
turn to the practical, everyday -world around
We have only to flu*)y women aright to
find out the all-forgiving spirit which they
bear. Woman’s standard of right is higher
than man’s—few men will be found to deny
this—and therefore at times she may seem
vere when her whole heart is over-flowing with
infinite pity and an infinite love.” A noble
woman thus writes upon this point; “ Then if
this (female antagonism) be true, 1 am not a
woman; for if there be a ‘thing of beauty’ that
I love to look upon, it is a woman; ami when
to the outward adorning is added an inward
glory, then does my spirit render her a purer
homage than man in his more selfish love can
give. There is a free-masonry, a secret sym
pathy between women, that makes itself felt
without the aid of introduction. You may call
it instinct if you will. All the women I have
ever admired, or called friends, have spoken to
my heart through this invisible sympathy, be
fore I have really known them; and my after
judgment has always sanctioned the first im
prsssions of my heart.” This lady, whose re
• “ h, *- ■
marks we echo from our heart of hearts, is
woman of “close observation;” and yet, not one
who “usually places the majority” of her own
sex in the “very bad” class—our accomplished
correspondent’s dictum to the contrary, not
withstanding.
We cannot suppose an apology necessary for
our small review of a small—we mean short
article. Our distinguished correspondent has
expressed his views upon a given subject—as
he had a perfect right to do—and we have ex
pressed ours, with all that Joe deference aqd
respect which an individual who is “not ex
pected” to know a great deal, ought to observe
towards one is “expected” to understand all
things, and who never disappointed those ex
pectation '
“Twenty-four—will that be a suitable ago
for you, Tom ? you can go a dozen better, at
least.
“Who told you to rake that up, now?” cried
my friend, laughing. “Besides, what does ten
or a dozen years signify ? I don’t look like
Constant, I dare say—a mere boy of twenty-
one or thereabouts: but do I look old, hey
I old—say?”
‘Not at all, Tom; don’t eat a fellow up raw,
and without salt or seasoning. But Charley
Constant—he’s a suitor of the heiress too, I
take it.”
“Then if you do, you’ll mis-*tdke 5 it just
about a mile, a mile and a half, or two miles,
on an average. Why bless your life, no; Char
ley is ‘dead in love’ with—such a deuced good
joke, Cumberland—with that precious little hit
of a scliool-iua’am!”
“Ah ! and what has he got to give her ?” I
inquired.
“Ilis confounded handsome self, and ‘nary
red,’ ” replied Tom, as he turned himself round
and round in an insane attempt to get a full and
satisfactory view of “how his waist looked” in
an elegant now specimen of fa-hionable tailor
ing,
“Quite an endowment, certainly,” I said,
taking up my hat and gloves; “but if you’ll
soon be through with that mirror, Tom—have
done with your waist—let your hair be—quit
fidgetting over your choker, and we’ll he off—
it’s time now
“Envying me my good looks, and other six
chances for the favor of an heiress being just
six years your junior,” laughed Tom. “But
here I am—and here come 3forgan and Con
stant—gentlemen, your most, obsequious,” he
continued, as we met them on the landing, and
all descended the stairs together. Ten min
utes’ walk brought us in front of the “house on
the hill”—the residence recently purchased by
therrphan heiress, and where she now lived
witl tier cousin, the school-mistress, and that
cousin’s mother, a widow. I thought, as we
approached, that it was not much of a “hill,”
after all—only a pretty eminence, at the sum
mit of which stood a handsome dwelling, of
that substantial air which conveys an idea of
refinement, plenty, and home comfort, hut em
bellished by none of those mongrel contrivances
which are as incongrous in a country village as
a stackyard would be in Char|pes or Canal
s rect:
itian hlind^^^n^raoTt nation,) and
not even a Gre<?i9lfp~orfico. The house seemed
tolinve lost its identityasa housealtogether, and
to have become merely a part and parcel of the
surrounding landscape. Its high, quaint gables
were draped with clambering vines, and their
mingled wreatliings latticed the wide gallery
and outer casements with a heavy and verdant
screen. Beyond the gallery the hall door stood
open, and through the open windows which de
scended to the floor, tlic freshening breeze of
evening waved to and fro long curtains of rose-
colored gossamer and snowy lace. The deep,
sloping lawn had recently been laid out
paths and flower-borders, and planted with
choice shrubbery and rare roses. This, Mor
gan observed, was all the taste of the little
scliool-mistress, and, he added, “you may see
her out here almost any evening, after she re
turns from school—and Mr. Constant also,
sometimes.” A smile and a faint glow flushed
the fair, boyish face of Constant, as he replied
Belle is very good to allow me to assist
her about her flowers sometimes. I sent her
last week a rare collection from the city, with
which she was much pleased
Humph!” thought I; “you seem to be get
ting along pretty fast, young man ?” but 1 sat’d
nothing. As we came up the long winding
walk from the gate to the house, we could not
hut pause a moment to contemplate the exquis
ite view. Just to the left of the mansion
clump of magnificent magnolias waved and
murmured to the breeze as it passed down the
valley, and in their shadows lay a thousand
little nooks and borders filled with spring blos
soms, which sent forth their fragrance on the
air. Farther off, groups of sober cattle were
scattered about in the meadows, afiock of whit
sheep dotted the ridgy upland beyond, while
below it here and there a spiral wreath of pale
blue smoke betrayed where some quiet, far
house lay nestled amid the clustering foliage.
To the right, where lay the most thickly settled
portion of the village, you could discern the
gable end of Squire Snob’s new Gothic villa,
the gray roof of the old meeting-house, half
the front of a dry-goods store, the graceful
belfry of the new “Academy,” (where our
“little school-mistress” taught,) and the gilded
vane of the church spire sparkling above
grove of elms, which surrounded the building
A little waterfall, not seen until we stood upon
the steps of the gallery, sent up its perpetual
hymn, and just as we entered, a mocking-bird
from a rose-thicket near by, trilled forth his
evening caret. The softness and beauty of the
scene certainly must have disposed me to sen
ti mental ism, for I actually felt that, it might
be no very difficult task to love the presiding
divinity of so lovely a spot as this. We did not
ring, for as we entered the gallery, a “smart
young servant boy came to usher us in, and
Miss Ellen Landon, who seemed to be crossing
the hall at that moment, came forward, with
an easy, self-possessed manner to meet us.
The round of introductions over to herself, an
mother, who occupied a short sofa in the par
lor, I accepted a seat by the lady mother, and
she engaged me in conversation, while Tom
and Morgan devoted themselves to Miss Lan
don and Constant, who had taken a seat near
them, turned to look over a portfolio of prints
which lay upon the tegore by his side. Every
thing about the room bespoke the refined and
cultivated tastes of the possessors, and the
ladies themselves were elegant, and exceedingly
agreeable. There was a striking resemblance
between mother nnd daughter—tho same soft
eyes, and low, pure brow, aud flno teeth, but
the daughter was the taller of the two, and her
eyes had alight in them, which, in the mother,
was tender and subdued.
“Cousin Belle has not yet returned from
school, Mr. Constant,” said Mrs. Landon,
turning to Charley, and with a quiet emphasis
on the “cousin”—T thought
“It is time she was at home, hut the school
girls are all so busy preparing for their cele
spends an honr or two with them, out of school
hours—she is so fond of her pupils,” remarked
Mis8*Helen, in a soft, tender tone.
But Alias Porter has just arrived to-day,
and Belie will not be obliged to attend so closely
future,” said the mother. “All! there she
comes—dear child;” and she looked down the
lawn, while a smile lit up her now really hand
some face. The sofa on which we sat- stood
directly in front of the open window, and l
looked out, of course. A small, light figure
passed through the gate I saw her distinctly
—I can see her now. She looked like a boy—
but a very lovely boy, too—with those short
dark curls—the clear, fresh complexion—that
dark-blue dress and zouave jacket, with a white
turn-down collar, and tho dark straw hat, which,
its ribbons of “blue,” she was . swinging in
her hand. You need not be surprised—I noted
every movement, and the details cf her very
mple attire, as she came up the lawn, aud L
have never forgotten them. About midway of
the yard she paused, just where, at a curve of
the winding walk, she stood in full view, and
spoke earnestly, it seeir.ed,)with a tall mulatto
boy, who was working about some plants. The
way he managed seemed not ot suit her exactly;
for in a moment, with a slight jesture of impa
tience, she tossed down her hat and gloves,
(which were in, instead of on her hands,) and
seizing the little spade from the servant, set it,
placed the toe of her tiny foot upon the edge,
and down it sank into the soft rapid. This she
continued for a few moments—we watching her
unperceived, until at length Constant could
stand it no longer.
‘Excuse me—but I must go and help Miss
Belle,” he said, smiling, and in a moment he
was bjr her side. With a lightened color, pro-
h&>ly the cxerrise, but without thf slight
est embarrassment of manner, she held out her
hand to him as he approached, still leaning on
the spade with the other. Gently, after a little
playful contest, he took it from her hand, and
they worked there together about the plant for
minute or two—she directing, and he dig-
ng—now and then her clear, musical laugh
ringing out upon the air, while the servant boy
stood b$ “showing his ivory.*’ and evidently
looking on the freaks of his “young Mis’ ” with
supreme satisfaction. Why did a sharp pang
thrill across my heart as I regarded them close-
what was the feeling? why should it enter
my head to envy that handsome fellow his
smooth brow, and clear, sparkling eye—his
freshness and his youth :’ Soon she crossed
the walk, broke a beautiful rose from a rich
cluster that hung there, and handed it to Con
stant, seemingly in reward for his services—
surely the gift afraid have no other meaning.
He placed it in his coat, and after giving a few
directions to the servant, they approached tho
house—he carrying her hat and gloves, and
she balancing the little spade over her white
hands. Suddenly, at some remark from her
companion, she dropped the spade—“two or
three gentlemen, did you say ?” I heard her
ask, for they were now quite near the gallery;
then she tossed back the hair from her face,
drew herself up with mock dignity, glanced
archly up into the face of her companion as if
to say, “am I all right now?” and again hurst
forth that clear, joyon.-, musical laugh—tho
fresh, free language of the very spirit of joy.
Miss Belle, allow me to present my friends,
Mr. Cumberland and Mr. Anderson—gentle
men, Miss Belle Chiles,” said Constant, as
they entered, “doing” the introductions in an
easy, and off-hand manner that 1 wouldn’t lihve
believed him capable of. And she—she actu
ally came up and shoo! hands with us both,
expressed her pleasure at seeing us, and then
she laughed in her pretty way, and took a seat
beside my friend Tom with as much sany froid
as if she had known him from childhood!
Wonderful little school-mistress ! I thought to
myself. I came prepared to see a pale, delicate
girl—full of shrinking timidity aud dependence
beside a haughty and self-sufficient heiress,
assured of her position, and acting accordingly.
disappointed in both instances—need 1
say agreeably so ? The heiress and belle was
an elegant, graceful and dignified woman—the
school-ma’am, and beauty—a joyous, frank-
hearted, and entirely independent young girl,
secmetl^ever to have jenown life except
of Tom’s remark that she “had embraced pov
erty as a profession,” and was that “much
abused and long-suffering institution called a
school-ma’am,” and smiled. If she vas, it I
didn’t seem to have affected her life and spirits
o any dangerous degree; 1 could answer for
that. There were other things, too, about that
establishment that entirely upset my precon
ceived ideas of the proprieties of matters and
things. For instance, I could not see why Miss
Belle, the poor cousin, should seem to control
everybody and everything about the place.
Why should she superintend the laying out and
planting of the ground, instead of Miss Lan
don. Impolite as it may seem, T could not
avoid giving a delicate hint to that etfcct, ad
dressing the mother.
Oh! Helen has not a part icle of taste, com
pared with Belle:” said the lady, smilingly,
and besides, Belle is confined so much in
school that exercise in the open air is very ben
eficial to her.” Of course I could not gainsay
this, but it did not explain to me Miss Belle’s
quiet, matter-of-course way of directing every
thing—trifles, they may seem, but still, it went
to show her habit of assuming, and I scarcely
knew whether I liked it. or not. Still, all was
done so calmly, so gracefully, and so appa
rently unconsciously too, that I could not find
it in my heart to esteem her the less for it
One instance of her “way” may suffice as ai
example for all.
Are you ready, Celia?” she asked, as n
trim looking maid appeared at. the parlor door
during the evening. “Yes, Miss Belle.”
Very well, go on ; come, Mr. Constant,” she
added, and Charley rose as though it were no
new thing for him to be commanded in that way,
and they left the room together. Presently I
heard her laughing in an adjoining apartment,
and hut a few moments elapsed, when she en
tered the parlor again, bearing an enormous
Bohemian bowl heaped up with luscious and
fragrant strawberries. Constant followed with
a silver salver and pitcher, and the servant
came also with her waiter of plates and spoons.
training Mr. Constant,” laughed Belle,
as she went about helping us bountifully, her
self; “he used to break every thing he got his
hands on, but some of these days some pretty
lady will be so grateful to me for bringing him
up in the way he ought to go.”
“And the way he want* to go, too. 1 presume,’’
said Tom Anderson.
“Assuredly,” replied Constant. “Miss Belle
is like Wisdom, in one respect at least : ‘her.
ways are ways of pleasantness.’ ’
Tom Anderson looked as though he would
like to give one of his prolonged it ti , -h-e-ic--
as much as to say, “that youngsters getting
over ground too fast—and 1 added mentally
her ways may be “pleasantness,” but if you
find that “all her paths arc peace,” I’m pro
foundly mistaken.
Later in the evening i sat conversing pleas
antly with Miss Landon by the open window
Morgan was entertaining the- mother, on her
sofa. I had become so much interested in a
little incident Miss Helen was relating, (forsh
talked admirably,) that l had not noticed any
one leave the room until l saw Miss Belle and
a gentleninn promenading at the lower end of
the gallery. 1 had risen to fasten hack one of
the flowing curtains which seemed to he in
Miss Landon’s way, and just at that moment
they were advancing to tlie hall door, and I
heard her say laughingly, “Oh! very much in
deed—very handsome ; but we shall have to
take the nonsense out of him—l see that,*’ nnd
then there was a masculine laugh, hearty, but
low; surely it was Tom Anderson! but no,
that could not be ; for in a moment, as I re
sumed my seat, Miss Belle entered, leaning on
the arm of Charley Constant.
“Well, gentlemen,” said Morgan, in his
rather grandiloquent style, “I dislike exceed
ingly lo make y«»u miserable, hut we must hid
I the ladies good-night. Where is Mr. Ander-
Andcrson has gone after a “Souvenir
d’une^mi,” said Miss Belle. “He has been
quarUBing with me for giving Mr. Constant
one^lpe fcrcnm^, and I told him to run down
the law* Sand get him one also. Why, Mr. An-
derscil, you didn’t get you a rose, after all,”
she atfdetl, smiling, as Tom entered, with only
his haf jn his hand.
“Eswttase me, Miss Belle,' the gift would be
of nq value, unless gathered and presented by
your own fair hand,” replied Tom, gallantly.
“AhI and is that so?” she returned, mis
chievously; “then to make amends, I shall
send you half-a-dozen to-morrow.”
“Than* yon; hut stay, I will not thank you
until I j^iceive the ‘souvenirs,’ I believe. You
do not always keep your promises, Miss Belle;
thtft is to say, I’ve heard so,” replied Tom, as
we bowpd our adieux.
“Ho^ in the world should you know whtehcr
Alias Bielle Chiles keeps her promises or not?”
I mqufred of Tom, as 1 threw myself down
into hii easy chair, after we had arrived at his
bouse.*
“How ? why—why didn’t I say I had heard
it, Air! Inquisitive?”
“She seemed quite at home with you. 1
thought, considering that yon were only intro
duced this evening,” I said.
“Wei!—yes—no—on the whole, come to
thinj^of it, I didn’t notice that she did. That
frank, free manner is just her ‘way,’ you see;
at least, that’s the light in which I look at it.
Diq^vou say you felt like ‘retiring,’ Cumber
land?”
“Retiring from what ? from ‘the field’ be-
cai»e she treated you more cordially than she
di\me? No, I never retire.”
*Km't you! well that’s unfortunate. But
Jet& J*lk about the heiress,” said Tom, kicking
** -rmrincu
Oh! bless the heiress^ v qnote from
that classic melody, the^lfattle fit Prague,’ ‘go
to’hed, * * **
, -which being interpret led, mgnitieib,
laughed Tom, ns he obeyedInstruc-
nnd since jou ‘never retire,’ I Hfcve the
honor of wishing yen a very good-night. Con-
sidfcr 7iv 'pocked up and directed' to tic ‘htau-
f Dreams.’ ISsttdr ship yourself hy
jtpreos, Cumberland, #ou want
six years off your physi«%nortiy
W why man, you actually io#k as
If found something fn think
'All* you hove—how very sententious!
Wef, brSgforward yo'nr mill-stone to-morrow
momin^and.rildielp' you to look into ifcjtif
ikehe’s 050thing above another that I’m nat
urally eaUowccUwith, it’s the power of seeing
inii the n\ys*e^ies of mill-stones. My feelings,
when anything conoerns you, Cumberland, are
lih| those of the valedictorians—they’re ‘too
deep for utterance.’ I’m just as unanimous in
your favor, on all occasions, as was the vote
that sent the lion. Purple to Congress—no, to
the Legislature—well it’s all the same. Never
,rd about that vote now, Horace, I’ll bet the
filly and two installments of the Habanas?”
l‘I haven't.”
I have.’ Then ‘I haven’t.’ You'dl fatigue
ytatrself, Cumberland; your conversational
owers will give way under this press of ev
asion. Your’e growing garrulous, In your
pi , age. Hut to return to our mutton—that is
say, the election. Purple wanted to go to
} > Legislature, and the Legislature wanted a
n w member of the right stripe of politics, to
v te, you know. P’^rpie determined to accom-
n tdate the assembled wisdom of his country
- Iowa, or Kansas, or some such jumping-off
ppce ; so lie harnessed up, took six stout fel
las with him to carry the votes, went out into
anew country where, with eyes like double
microscopes, and the nose of about fifteen
bbod-hounds, you could scare up nary inhabi-
flt*- unpacked, demonstrated the power of the
brflot-box, and got up from the old log where
M was sitting, a member of the Legislature
with his ‘blushing honors thick upon him ;
dhat is to say, divers caterpillars, ‘daddy-long-
legs,’ and such specimens of natural history.
But the most wonderful part of the transact’n n
i|as the miraculous unanimity that prevailed
in this model election. Purple had every voto
appreoi-
Boston, May II.,
in Epping, N. H., 1
Boston, and Mike Leavitt,
ty-three rounds were f
and Finnegas was the
beaten blind. There wt re about ‘2<F< special
pr »*«ent. mostly frtuu r
1 'ge|i#o&Ton, May 11.—Extensive
New England is i „ —
farmers, who In some parts of New
drive cattle many miles for water.
woods arc alao ranging in many localities. At
Hynnnis, on the C
over 1,000
extensive.
i Cape, yesterday, & fire spread
is of woodland, nnd *a* quite
ff bill In
ibw, Cumberland, you will be able to appr
ate the extreme of my devotion to your inter-
whenever 1 tell you that I’m unanimous.'
[to be continued.]
Scranton, Mav 11.—One^
guns were fired this afternoon 1
of the news of the passage of the Tariff bill 1
the Housfr.
A meeting is called for Monday evening and
preparations are being made for a £nmnd dem-
onstration. more than 1
In,the neighborhood of Cincinnati, #avs the
It of, that city, the fruit trees, without ex
ception, present an appearancethat is most en
couraging. Apple, peach, cherry, and pear
trees are now thickly covered with blossoms;
awl, with favorable weather henceforth, the
vield-of fruit will be large. *
A dying West India planter, groaning to his
favorite servant, sighed out:
“Ah, Sambc, I am going on a long jour
ney.”
“Never mind, massa, it am all de -ray down
hill!”
Edit ing a newspaper down in Alabama seems
to be a poor business. An editor in Selma re
turns thanks, through his paper, to a number
of his friends, who clubbed together and bought
him a pair of boots—the first new pair he has
had for a number of years.
The Meanest AIan in America.—This no
torious inv^ividual lives in Cleveland. He ap
plied to a justice, recently, for an execution to
levy upon the wooden leg of a man who owed
him four dollars ! No constable could bo found
to serve the execution.
The Chinese language contains only forty-
two thousand seven hundred and fifteen char
acters ; and a knowledge of about one-tenth
of these is sufficient lo enable Chinese works
to be understood.
•' “Thou art all Ice.”—The largest ice-store
house in thfe country is that belonging to the
New York Ice Company, and situated at Ath
ens. It is capable of holding sixty thousand
tons.
Yerjjatum Rf-portino.—Dr. Scudder, a Hin
doo missionary, says he ba3 known Hindoo
school-boys to report sermons nearly verbatim
—their common mode of writing allows this.
An Old Pioneer,—There is a man named
Stansbury, now living at Houston, Texas, who
moved to Cincinnati when that city contained
very Worda.
TEmysm's ap*«cn
In defiance cf :ht vrfiile
[and Kentucky, I have travellM through
settlements, traceotsrfavorite hunting.
No 1
l.-.'ves.
hut knew noli
Accursed be tne i
country and mad*
Our fathers, from their t
b«t there 1
fell the Mon,
haa sein'd on out-
of our varriors.
in the
brat ion of May-day, that cousin Belle often) son?” he continued, looking rounilthe room.
Dreadful Steamboat Disaster.
We learn from the Memphis Enquirer of Sat
urday last, that on Thursday night, 10th inst.,
the steamer 11. F. Sass struck a snag near
Clark’s Bar, about fifty miles below Memphis,
from which the most melancholly consequences
resulted. The Enquirer says :
The snag entered the boat, at ’midships, ca
reening her to the starboard side, causing her
to sink in less than five minutes in overtwentv-
five feet of water. Of the passenger and crew
of the Sass, there were aboard, in all, over BIO
souls, the greater portion of whom had retired
to bed at the time of the accident. No sooner
was the boat struck than the alarm was given
by those who were on watch to the passengers,
who were speedily aroused and made sensible
of the imminent danger in which they were
placed. Alany of the passengers, including a
nmrtber of ladies and children, in -almost a
nude state, rushed to the hurricane deck;
while others, in the frenzy of excitement,
sprang into the river and were drowned. Even
a portion of those who attempted to get above
—so rapidly did the boat fill—were drowned,
being foiled in their endeavors to escape hy tfie
encroaching watefs.
No sooner had the passengers, who were so
fortunate as to clear the cabin, reached the up
per deck than the boat parted, the cabin float
ing off, carrying with it over one hundred souls,
all of whom were saved, the wreck landing
about three miles below.
The names of Hi persons are given as known
o ho lost, and the Enquirerthinks there are not
less than 20 who have found a watery grave.
A Saint Louis packet passed shortly after the
disaster, and picked up many of the passen
gers. The Sass was a comparatively new boat,
being in her fifth year, but her present wovtli
probably about .>12,000—insured. She
had on board about 4S0 tons of freight, and
a large amount of money, the most of which
His lost.
Freshet oh the Pnpajiaco.
Baltimore, Friday, Alay 11.—We have had
a tremendous rain storm all night. The rain
is still falling, though it is somewhat abated
There is a great flood ou the falls and the streets
in the vicinity tire overflown. It is feared that
considerable damage has been done above.
Baltimore, ft P. AI.—The flood has about
subsided. So far no serious damage has been
done, beyond the filling of numerous cellars,
and flooding the lower stories of buildings in
portions of Holliday, Saratoga, Jay, and
Harrison streets, and the Market space.—
In some places the water is from four to seven
feet deep. So far no serious damage is re
ported outside of the city beyond carrying
off fences, etc. No damage is reported on the
Ohio road, nnd trains are running without in
terruption.
A Canary Bird Hashing Itself.—Recently
a canary bird, belonging to a lady of Buffalo,
as it was flying around the room, happened to
pick up a long hair, anil, flying with it <0 its
cage, commenced some evolutions with it, as
though it were about laying the foundation of
a nest. By and by the b&ir became entangled
in its legs, and flying around the cage it got
over the perch and then around its neck. The
lady, after some thne observing that the usu
ally musical little pet. was silent, went to the
cage, and there found the little warbler actu
ally suspended hy the neck from its perch, and
almost iti the agonies of death.
SQUATTER SOVKRKI
UfMTA.—The ileoryia
Qft.) says:
“On the eve of going to Press, we learn hy
despatch to the Mommy AYirs of to-day, that
Gardner’s Squatter Sovereignty demonstration
iti Augusta last night, was another and total
failure. Only one hundred persons present,
and the meeting adjourned for one week. .Such
will be th# fate ui all such treasonable attempt
to degrade nnd wrong the South.
\\father—Cnovs—Health.—Our section
was visited with several good showors of rain
yeaterday and last, night, and we still have
promises of more, up to tho time of going to
press. We understand that crops are very
promising, though they have suffered, some
what, from drought. The health of this sec
tion was never Iwtltr than at present. — Alba
ny Patriot, 11 /A.
Boastino Ears.—“We have seen, says the
'ynandian, “an car of corn, from the garden
Nr. Cohen, of this place, fully matured,
and re^jjy f or t j ie table.”
Cheat L f(JIIT —Prof. Sanders offers to sup
ply water-go* to the citizens of Philadephia, at
7o cents per l,uoo cubic feet.
slaves and cowards,
wailing winds.
The Muscogee wa* once x mighty people.
The Georgians trembled at our war-hoop, and
the dens of my tribe, itr the distaatlakea, sung
the prowess of your warrior* and* sighed for
their ~
Now, your very blood is white, your toma .
hawks have no edge, your bows and arrows J
were buried with your fhthers. Oh! AIusco-
gee, brethren of my mother, brush from eye
lids the sleep of slavery ; once more strike for
vengeance—once more for your
spirits of the mighty dead comj
drop from weeping skies. Let
jierieh!
They seiio your land;
women; they trample on
dead 1"
Back ! hack, ay, into the
accursed w ves brought C
Burn their dwelllings!
Slay their wives and children!
owns the country and the pale
enjoy it!
War now! W$r forever! &
living! War upon the de; 1
corpses from the grave. Our
give no rest to a white inan’s
[ All the tribes of th'* North \
war danco Two ’vu* v*r-
fj
Tecumseli will soon renif® to his country.
Aly prophets shall tai ry .tth you^The^wilB
Away, away with pomps ofklngs.
And splendor of a <
Before the Lie _
Monarchicrplc goes down.
Your liberties, your rights maintain,
And with your la test* breath,
Fight for (he end 01 des**ots reign.
Be free, aye, e’en ?u t e»4h.
Your innate right, your heritage
Assert in thunder jtone;
l our name will jive on hisiry ’ s page
And moniimental i
paper,
" 1,511 womu tins « orl(1 be with01
A perfect blank—1iU n *| iePt of
even ruled.
Sudden and Singular Deaths.—Mr. Isaac
Foster, of West Medway, Mass., fell, the other
day, from a standing position, while listening to
a gentleman’s remark at a town meeting, that
was held, recently, at that place, and almost im
mediately expired. The event was announced
to the meetidg, and, out of respect tothe deceased
it adjourned. Another sudden and singular
death resulted from the above painful occur
rence. Mr. Warren Foster, son of the deceased,
when informed of the death of his father, fell
back, and expi.ed immediately.
Plaxt^Ouape Vine.—A poor woman in the
country m Santa Barbara, California, has but
one grape vine. This bore, in 1837, five thou
sand bunches of grapes, each bunch weighing
over a pound, yielding her the haudsome sutp of
four thousand dollars. When a girl, on leaving
Monterey for her present home, she picked up a
vine cutting 1 to drive her mule. This cutting
she planted on he arrival, and, after the lapse of
seven years, such is the result.
Selma, May 14—5 11. 20 m. P. M .—The Mont
gomery True Blues have just arrived—all well
and in high spirits.
SPECIAL DISrATCH TO THE MAIL.
Selma, May 14.—Two of the Selma Blues,
Messrs. Knox and Page, were returning a salute
from the Montgonn ry True Blues, when the can
non of the Selma Blues was prematurely dis
charged, seriously wounding Mr. Page. The
lisaster was of course purely accidental.
-The London papers
1 of Mr. W. G. Pul
xty Failure in
Forrester, (Waresboro,
stand b.‘ween vou and 4 ^‘ c bullets of your
enemies. When the * hile man approaches
you, the yawning swallow him
up. /
Sown shall yo»* sec m J, arm °f fire stretched
athwart tb* ^™y* 1 will stamp my foot at
Tippop^oe, and the very earth shall shake.—
( r ns acme's I.ife of Gen. Sam Dab. 4
Fast Life in London
announce the defalcate
linger, the head cashier of the Union Bank of
London, whose frauds amount to over £1,123,-
000 during the period of three or four years
past. This gentleman is said to have been one
of the fast men of London. On a salary of
$3,000, he lived in a style that was unaccount
able till now. Such events arc calculated to
bring into suspicion the practice of making
greai shew upon little means.
The Brazil CoffeeChop.—By the arrival at
this port yesterday of the bark St. James,
Capt. C’ruise, from Rio de Janerio, we learn
that the new crop of coffee in Brazil is larger
than ever before known; the limbs of the
trees having to be propped up to prevent their
breaking down beneath the weight of the
growing berries. The new coffee would not
be in market before the middle of June.—
Phila. Enq.
It is often better to have a great deal of harm
happen to oue ; a great deal may arouse you to
remove what little will only accustom you to en
dure.
A lady in Montreal, on the first, recovered
$2,000 of a Maj. Breckford for hugging and
kissing her rather roughly. She ought to set
a high value «>n the money—she got W hy a tight
squeeze.
The Kimscoi alConvention.—The Savannah
He publican of Mouday says : This body ad-
journod Saturday afternoon, after a laborious
and harmonious session, which, we are pleased
to say, terminated with renewed evidences of
Christian /.enl in behalf of the Church. Tho
next Convention will be hold at Christ Church,
Macon, on the Thursday after the first Mon
day In May
A OKonniA Nuookt.—Mr. K. G. Williams
has kindly informed us that Mr. J. 1L Dean
found, on Saturday last, a solid piece of gold
weighing three hundred and eighty-six dwts.,
in Naucooohee Valley, on what is called the
1 “White & McGhee lot.”—t'lsirksville (Georgia)
Herald. f
lajTWe learn that u man named John Hall,
a tin pedlar from Rome, was found shot dead
Hi his wagon a few miles from LaFayette, one
day last week. He was evidently murdered
for his money, as he was known to have a con
siderable amount on his person when he left
LaFayette, all of which, together with hi*
watch, was 111 Using when ho was discovered.
The Fatal Rifle.
Mr. McKerdy, an English gentleman, address
ing a volunteer meeting near London, recently,
told the following anecdote:
“Mauy years ago, when travelling on tft ('on-
tinent, I had as servant an old Prussian soldier,
who related to me the following remarkable cir
cumstance : In 1813 or 1814 he belonged to a
corps cfone thousand men of all arms, operating
as a guard on the right bank of the llbioc, while
the French were in possession of the country on
the left of the river. The season was early in
Autumn, when the weather was delightful, and
the harvest just gathered in.
“One afternoon the corps bivouacked near the
river for the advantage of water, and the place
was considered perfectly safe from attack, as the
the opposite bank was a vast plain of corn-stub
ble, without a single fence as far as the eye could
reach ; an advancing array, therefore, could be
more easily seen. The river was unfordable,
and about two hundred yards broad. The troops,
therefore, considered themselves perfectly se
cure from attack, and set about preparing their
supper and making themselves comfortable for
the night, when a shot was heard from the oppo
site bank, and a cry rom the bivouack that a
man was wounded. Every soldier started in
stantly to his legs, and looked across the river,
but no one could see even t K e vestige of an ene
my, which greatly surprised all, as there was no
covert, and the yellow stubble was especially
well adapted to show the smallest object for a
considerable distance from the river.
“While the whole corps wa? thus gating, a
puff of smoke was seen to rise about fifty yards
from the brink of the stream, followed hy the
report of a rifle, and another soldier dropped
wounded. la a moment without the aid of an
officer, about one hundred men rushed to the
water, and commenced firing at the spotwhence
the shots came, although nothing but the stub
ble was to be seen.
“Soon after there was another report, followed
by the fall ot another man, which soexasperated
the whole force that nearly every soldier set
about firing at the spot from which the puffs of
smoke were seen to arise. By this time all were
convinced the mischief was done by a single ri
fleman. More shot followed and more fell: so
thatthc officer in command had serious thoughts
of moving the encampment; but the feeling of
shame that so strong a force as sixteen hundred
nen should be driven off by one soldier caused
him to hesitate until eighteen shots had been
fired by the rifleman, aud seventeen men were
killed and wounded^ when, to the great satisfac
tion of all, a man was seen to spring from the
stubble, a luck shot having ki led him, but this did
not take place until many thousand had been
fired at him.
Here is an evidence of tho power of the rifle.
The man had laid down in a slight hollow, so
small that it was not perceptible across the riv-
er, and there brought down seventeen men,
while they lay in almost perfect safety. He
nearly routed a little army.”
Eyes of deepest, dark
Shining hair of golden hue.
Lips like roses filled with dew;
Pure m the liliy.
Gently as the flowing stream,
As the sun’s bright golden beam.
May thy life glide on serene.
Sweet sister mine.
Maid, choosing man, remember this :
You take his nature with his name.
Ask, too, what bis religion is,
For you will ioon be of the same.
Woman has no advantages over man ; one of
them is that his will has no operation till he is
dead, wbershe generally take# effect in her life
time.
A business man of our acquaintance is so
crupulously exact in all his doing that, when
ever he pays a visit he will insist upon taking
a receipt.
When is a plant like a hog ? When it begins
to root. And when is it like a soldier ? MHien
it begins to shoot. And when is it like like an
editor? When it begins to blow.
A benevolent man, who proves his wish to
save time by throwing it away on foolish cal
culations, has discovered that in forty years a
snuff-taker devotes twenty-four roojlhs to
blowing his nose!
uman hands and limbs hare lately been dis
covered in the gaano shippied to this country.
Somebody suggests that they belonged to a race
ot giants, when they are undoubtedly fragments
of Chinese Coolies.—Boston Post.
“Come don’t be proud,” said a couple of
silly young roysterers to a gentleman; “sit
down nnd make yourselves our equals.”
“We should have to blow our brains out to
do that,” replied one of them
A Favorite Quotation.—“Fit for treason,
stratagem, and spoils,” roust be a favorite quo
tation with an editor in Selma. Ala., for, in
looking over a paper published in that ilk, a
few days since, we found the above quota
tions no less than twenty-seven times—being
at the end of every article except two.
An Irishman, who was lately reprieved, as
he stated, the night Wore his execution, and
who wished to get rid of his wife, wrote to her
as follows:
i
J
“I wu y.»tcrd»y hanged
hero; do as 1 did. and boar it like a man.”
Nkcro’s View.—A gentleman re-
flu- following anecdote not long
Tiik 11
la toil to
since :
A Methodist brother in one of the rural dis
tricts of Tcnnessoo. more noted for bi9 tenac
ity to his special doctrines than lor consistent
theology, was belaboring fearfully the doctrine
of final perseverencc at a campmoeting cue
hot summer day. Ho dwelt ferrentlv on the
soripuralncss of apostacy. and allowed that nol i
only many thousands and perhaps millions of
(he rank and Hie had perished forever, bat that
even David nnd Solomon had missed their grasp
on the “horns of the altar,” and were tlmtday
in hell. With this dark view of the case, after
a three hours' discourse, the exhausted theolo
gian aat down. The venerable, but simple-
hearted Cuffee, who sat Hat on the ground be
hind the pulpit, aftor the last amem was said,
rose, drew a long sigh, and shading his head
exclaimed:
“ Well, my God! Morc’n half o’ dal sar-
mint is onpossiblc. Ef ole David and Solomon
is in hell, 1 warn to tear dar views out’n the
liible. It’s no use in me Iryingep get to heaven
liy dar writings, when dry
selves.”—■ Jian.fr of 1**111
gone to hell dern
The body of man, bones, sinews, tiesh, adipose,
hair and everything, is entirely reproduced in
the course of seven years, and after that period
he is not th« same individual. Consequently,
we hope that “gal" to whom we were “engaged
in 1852, wont hold us to ourpromise, for,accord
ing to physics, we’re not the same fellow. Flirts
will please make a note. „
An editor noticing the doceasc of a rich sub
scriber, observes that “he has died regretted
by a numerous circle ot friends, and leaving a
widow disconsolate os any widow need be who
has obtained the uncontrollable possession of
twenty thousand dollars per annum. More
than twenty young men have sent letters of
condolence to her/'
A school master was one day questioning a
class, and asked how many tenses there were.
Seven, sir," said a little fellow, with great
confidence, drawing himself up to the topmost
height.
“Prove it,” said the matter.
“Well, taste is one; feeling two; smelling
three; two cars, five; and two oyes make
seven.”
“Bridget, bting me the castor oil, the baby is
sick.”
“It’s all gone, maria, not a drop left."
“All gone! why we have sol opened the hot-
tie.”
“Sure you have had it every day, and I’ve
teen you use it myself on your sided,”
“Why you don’t say we have been eating cai-
tor-oil every day during the salad i
“Sure you have.”
“But did you not see the bottle was labelled
castor-oil t”
did, marm : and didn't i put it
into the Sar overv day?”
n
HJ