Newspaper Page Text
SPOriVy >
l|< exquisite little b illad i- > xtract*
eJ i'roin tbe “ Select melodies ol Scotland,
and is attributed to the pen o( l‘i otessor
Smyth, ol Cambridge Univeisity, England.’
{) thou art the lad ol my heart, U illy,
There’a love, and there’s lite and gh - *-
There’s i lieeriuthy voice, and thy bounding
step,
And there’s bliss in tliv ldithome c e.
Ltit oh! how my heart was tried, Willy,
For little 1 thought to see,
That the lad who won the lasses ail,
Would ever he won by me.
Adown this path we came, Willy,
’Twas jii't at the hour oi eve ;
And \> ill he or will lie not, thought 1,
My fluttering heart reliever —
So ott we pan ed, as we saunter’d on ;
’Twas tear —and hope—and fear:
But here ut the wood, we parting stood,
’’i w as rapture his vow s to hear.
Mi, vows soft—thy vows, W illy! —
W ho would not o{ like lie proud ?
Sweet lark, with thy soaring, echoing song,
Come down from thy ro-y cloud;
Come down to thy nest, and tell thy mate.
But tell thy mate alone —
Thou hast seen a maid whose heart ol love,
Is merry and light as thy own.
—>•©#—-
Frnm lhr VhiUidftphin l man.
The following lines are taken lrom an Irish
publication of the year IHI7. ’I hey art; cha
racteristic of the people oi that highly injur
ed nation.
THE IRISHMAN
The savage loves his native shore,
Tho’ rude the soil and chill the air;
Then why shonld’nt Erin's sons adore,
\ land which nature formed so fair ?
What flood reflects ashore so sweet,
As Shannon great or pastoral Ban,
Or who a friend or foe can meet,
So generous as an Irishman.
Ilis hand is rash, his heart is warm,
But principle is still his guide ;
None more regrets a deed of harm,
And none forgives with nobler pride
He may he dup'd but w ont be dar’d,
More lit to practice than to plan;
Ami if the field of fame be lost,
It wont be by an Irishman.
If poor and strange, he’ll for you pay,
Or guide to where you safe may lie.;
It you’re his comrades, while you stay,
1 tis cottage holds a jubilee.
His very soul lie will unlock,
And ifhe may your merits scan,
Your confidence lie scorns to mock.
For faithful is an Irishman,
By’ honor bound, in woe or weal,
M hate'ershe bids lie dares to do ;
Try him with bribe,it wont prevail,
Fill him in fire, you'll find him true.
He seeks not safety, be his post
Where’er it may in danger's van,
And if the field of tame tie lost,
It won’t be by an Irishman.
Erin’s lov'd land ftom age to age,
Be thou more great,, more fam'd and free ;
May peace be thine, or should you w age
Defensive war—cheap Victory.
May plenty’ flow in every field;
Which gentle breezes sweetly fan ;
And cheerful smiles serenely gild,
The breast of every’ Irishman.
THE TEA TABLE~
“ Well, sir, 1 can take care of my
self,” said Julia Pellew to her husband
as they were taking tea together in
their little parlor, one delightful sum
mer afternoon. Just at that moment,
and while the words were yet on her
tongue, the door opened, and Miss
Polly Gaw entered the room, on one
of her flying afternoon visits. Julia
could not avoid coloring up a little at
this sudden intrusion ; for this young
lady’s visits were always intrusive
and Miss Gaw evidently saw, or sus
pected, she had dropped in at a mo
ment when her company was not the
most desirable. However, she got
herself seated, and entertained her
y-ood neighbor with a history of the
home concerns of every family in the
neighborhood, about three hours long.
There was a minute and detailed ac
count of Mrs. IPs party with a ti>>t of
all who were not invited, among w hom
she was most careful to remind that
she Julia, was one ; then the progress
of the courtships in the country ; the
-domestic squabbles of her acquaintan
ces ; the scandals of the week, the
motions of the old widower who lived
on the Applehy farm, betokening an
approaching union with the Squire’s
daughter, and w ho were jealous there
at ; and a hundred others topics, equal
ly interesting and profitable, were all
spread out on the carpet.
Mr. Pel lew had made his escape
soon from the table, and Miss Polly
did not fail to comment largely on
The savage uurociability of husbands,
insisting, that they were as restless,
and unhappy in the marriage noose as
caged up tigers, and instancing how
gay and young, ami spiuce, they im
mediately bccamcon losing their wives;
kindly and most sympathetically ail -
ding, “if you were to drop oIV, my
dear Julia, Mr. Pellew would, in ten
days, be the most gallant and agreea
ble man in the village.” After en
joying herself, and entertaining Julia
thus delightfully until it began to
grow late, she gathered up her knit
ting ami sallied on, to make a.cull
cr two more before she went home.
Mr. and Mrs. Pellew were young,
had been married but about a year,
end were mutually, as happy in their
union as love and virtu?, ami similar
tastes and dispositions, could make
them. He was engaged in a business,
which, with industry and good man
agement vielded him a genteel living;
he had embarked in it, however, with
out capital of hts own ; but Julia had
considerable amount of property which,
though the principal was not under her
contrnul, formed a basis upon which
her husband was enabled to gain the
credit necessary in his business, and
he had done so. This amiable lauiiiy
had numerous relatives and acquain
tances —were looked upon by the good
and sensible part of the neighborhood
ns patterns of virtue, and were gene
rally much beloved and admired.
‘1 he visit of their friend Miss Pol-
Iv, was forgotten in a day or two, but
tilings began before long to wear ra
ther a strange aspect. Time after
time Mrs. Pellew observed that her
visitors who began to be much more
numerous than before, put on long fa
ces, and in a condoling strain lectured
on the trials of the marriage state, the
necessity of forbearance, and of the
exercise of Christian patience, min
gled with sundry hints about the sov
reign rights of the sex-, and the best
methods of managing unruly husbands
with now and then a kind of half ex
pressed sympathetic pity for her.—
.She could not, for her life, understand
what all this meant —and attributed
it to every cause but the right one.
Nor was Mr. Pellew to escape this
new and to him unaccountable change
of the current of feeling among his
neighbors, towards them. The first
symptom he saw was a coldness and
shyness on the part of his wife’s re
latives; some of them even refusing
to speak to him. The female part of
his acquaintance scolded at him,
and what was worse, he thought his
customers began to neglect him. Day
by day things grew worse—at last his
creditors began to push—he was
alarmed, he had never before been ask
ed for money ; bis credit had been
perfect; he wondered, and waited
for the issue ; it came in half a do
zen prosecutions, judgements and ex
ecutions.
It was now time to rouse up. As
these things were in progress, he ap
peared to be in utter surprise, and to
view them with perfect incredulity,
not being willing to believe scarcely,
the evidence of his sens j. Now he
demanded the cause ot tl.is strange
treatment, and with some difficulty he
ascertained that it arose from tiie un
happy separation about to take place
between him and his wife ! and the
cruel manner in which ho had used
her, lie demanded the author of the
story, and was revered to an old gen
tleman who had told his informer.—
The old man gave his wife—his v.
her neighbor’s wife, and so the tale
may be traced down, through about
five and twenty mouths, growing ra
ther less at every step until it came to
Miss 7'olly Gaw—she had affirmed
that she overheard Mr. /’ellew and
his wife engaged in a violent quarrel,
and even heard a distinct affirmation
on her part that she wouici leave
him.
Mr. Pellew now hit upon an expe
dient to bring matters to a close at
once. He invited all such of his wife’s
relatives, his neighbors, his creditors,
&,c. as were within his reach, to meet
at his house on business ol the utmost
importance. About twenty assembled
among them Miss Gaw, and half a do
zen of the principal mouth pieces in
the village. He then stated to them
his business—recounted the stories he
had heard—traced them all down to
their origin, and demanded of Miss
Polly her reasons for the report she
had raised. Cornered up so unex
pectedly and suddenly, she candidly
confessed that the only foundation fur
what she had said, was, that on the
afternoon she had paid the visit first
mentioned, she had heard, as she en
tered, Mrs. Pellew say, “ well, sir, 1
can take care of myself.” And she
wished to know if Julia Pellew would
deny this. Julia replied, she would
not —she had barbacucd a pair of fine
fat quails for her husband’s supper
and had been helping him to a choice
bit—lie had pressed her to keep it
herself, saying she was too kind ; and
she did, on the occasion utter the of
fensive words, “ Well, sir, I will take
care of myself.”
A burst of astonishment succeeded.
Miss Gaw ran out of the room like a
woman who had lost her senses. The
worthy couple received the congratu
lations of all the honest fools present ;
and tho’ the knaves shook their heads,
and pretented to be mighty glad the
truth had come out; it was with a
grace that but half concealed their sor
row. Thereafter not a syllable was
ever lis|>ed about the before much talk
ed of separation.
But thus it is, gentle reader, that
one half the tea table stories originate
and who would think there were still
as many ready to believe them and
trumpet them about as there were in
| Alcsbury iu Molly Gaw’s time ?
Emporium.
Application In stadif.—H shit gives
promptness; and the soul ot dispa c i
is decision. One man may write a
a book or paint a picture, while anoth
er is deliberating about the plan oi the
title page. The great painters were
able to do so much, because they knew
exactly what they meant to do, ami
how toset about it. They were tho
rough bred workmen,* and were not
learning their art while they were ex
ercising it. One can do a great deal
in a short time, if one only knows how.
Ti'ius an author may become very vo
luminous, who only employs an hour
ortwoma day in study. If he has
once obtained, by habit and reflection
a use of his pen, with plenty of mate
rials to work upon, the pages vanish
before him. The time lost is in be
ginning, or in stopping, after we have
begun. If we only go .forwards with
spirit and confidence, we shall soon
arrive at the end of our journey. A
practised writer ought never to hesi
tate for a sentence from the moment
he sets pen to paper, or think about
the course he is to take, lie must
trust to his previous knowledge of the
subject, and to his immediate impuls
es, ami he will get to the close ol his
task without accidents or tossoi time.
1 can easily understand how the old
divines and controversialists produ
ced their folios: I could write folios
myself, if I rose early and sat up late,
at this kind of occupation. But I con
fess I should be soon tired of it,beside
wearying the reader.
In one sense, art is long and life is
short. In another sense,this aphorism
is not true. The best of us are idle
half our time. It is wonderful how
much is done in a short space, provi
ded we set about it properly, and give
our minds wholly to it. Let any one
devote himself to any art or science
ever so strenuously, and he will
have leisure to make considerable
progress in half a dozen other acquire
ments. Leonard) da Vinci was a ma
thematician, a musician, a poet, and
an anatomist, besides being one of the
greatest painters of his age. The
Prince of Painters was a courtier, a
lover, and fond of dress and company.
Michael Angelo was a prodigy of ver
satility ot talent—a writer of Sonnets
(which Wordsworth has thought worth
translating) ami the friend of Dante.
Salvator was a latcnist. Titan was
an elegant letter writer, and a finished
gentleman. Sir Joshua Reynold’s
Discourses are a more polished and
classical even than any of his pictures.
Let a man do all he can in any one
branch of study, he must either ex
haust himself and doze over it, or va
ry his pursuit, or else lie idle. All
our real labor lies iu a nut-shell. —
The mind makes, at some period or
ether, one Herculean effort, and the
rest is mechanical. We have lo climb
a steep and narrow precipice at first;
but after that, the way is broad and
easy, where we may drive several ac
complishments abreast. Men should
have one principal pursuit, which may
be both agreeably and sdvantageously
diversified with other lighter ones, as
the subordinate ports of a picture may
be managed so as to give effect to the
centre group. It has been observed
by a sensible man, that the having a
regular occupation or professional du
ties to attend to, is no excuse for put
ting forth an inelegant or inacurate
work ; for a habit of industry braces
and strengthens the mind, and ena
bles it to wield its energies with addi
tional case and steadier purpose.
Ji Woman can keepc Secret.
The following anecdote will prove
the fallacy of the remark, that a ‘Wo
man cannot keep a secret.’
Some years since a lady called at a
glover’s shop in the outskirts of the
town, and purchased a pair of gloves
for her immediate wear ; observing,at
the same time, that she was on her
road to Burnet—that she had left her
gloves at her friend’s house where she
had called,and that she was apprehen
sive of being benighted if she went
hack for them. The glover fitted on
the gloves ; and the lady, after paying
for them from a purse well stocked
with bank notes, stepped into her post
chaise, and proceeded on her journey.
She had scarcely reached Finchly
Common, when a highwayman slopped
the chaise, ami demanded her money.
He entreated her not to be alarmed,
as he had no intention upon her per
son—if she surrendered her property,
it was all he wanted, declaring, that
distress, and not his will, urged him
to this desperate act, and he was de
termined to remove his pecuniary
wants, or perish. The lady gave her
purse, and the desperado rode off.
After he was gone, and the fright
had subsided, the lady imagined, that
in the address of the highwayman, she
recognized the voice of the glover she
had just before dealt with. This con
ceit struck her so forcibly that she
ordered the post boy to drive back to
town—not choosing, she said, to ven
ture further over the heath.
On her arrival at the glover’s she
knocked and gained admittance, the
•doMer himself opGiiu.; I aft lc>cr. 1 tie
iadv desired to speak with him in pri
vate. The glover showed Her to a i
back parlor ; when she exclaimed, “ I j
am come for my purse, ol which you
robbed me this evening on Finchly
Common !” The glover was confoun
ded ; and the lady proceeded—“ It is
fno use for you to deny it: lam con
vinced, and your life is at my mercy.
Return me my property, and trust to
niv humanity.” The glover, over
come with guilt, shame and confusion
returned the purse, confessed tlie
crime, and pleaded his distress. Ihe
ladv, after suitable admonition, gave
him a ten pound note,bade him mend,
his way of life, and keephis own coun
sel ; adding that she would not di
vulge his name, or place of abode.
She kept, her word : and though the
robbery was,stated in the publick pa
pers, the discovery was omitted; and
it was not until very recently, that a
minute account of this singular tran
saction was found among the papers of j
the lady alluded to. Kven in the pri
vate memorandum, the name and resi
dence of the glover was omitted, and
the secret, in that particular, rests
with the lady in the grave.
After this tale, the truth of which
may be relied on, who will say that a
woman cannot keep a secret ?
London paper.
“ Live honestly, serve God, and take
the A ewspaper
Newspapers.— Bv a strict calcula
tion it will be perceived that the cost
of a newspaper is one of the smallest
items of a man’s expenditures. Ihe
deduction of one glass oi grog’ per
week—of half a cigar per diem —in
short a single retrenchment among ten
thousand other indulgencies, will more
than defray the expence of taking a
newspaper. “ These are tough times,”
says Gripus to his wife—“ let us look
aoout and see how we can contract our
expenses —ah / there is the newspaper
[unfortunately the jl rst thing thought
of] ’tis the most useless thing in the
world—we can neither eat, drink nor
smoke it.” “ But” says the conside
rate lady, what shall we do for news?
How shall we enliven the dull hours
or ascertain how the world wags ? they
don’t cost much—and when the chil
dren have read them thro’ they are
worth half price for wrapping paper
—or to send round Cape Horn to Jer
athmeel, who would jump to get them
merely to read the advertisments, or
see who’s dead and married.” 1
can’t afford it though,” rejoins the
economical husband —“ 1 must lessen
my outgoes—l'll go down and have it
stopped .” This done with, a spring
of satisfaction, the gentleman returns
and cracks a bottle of wine,in the idea
that the immense saving, just accom
plished, will fully warrant this small
ratification !
\V e would soberly inquire whether
this is not the usual course pursued by
those who flatter themselves with hav
ing thus vastly circumscribed their ex
penses ? Do they not, through this ri
diculous belief, commonly squander
greater sums in much less valuable
luxuries ? And is not the newspaper
the very first, and often the only
item subtracted from their aunual dis
bursements ?— JS'antuket Inquirer.
Mangle Wurtzle, or Root of Scarcity.
This plant which is of so much im
portance to the Southern States, I can
scarcely see any where. Col. Vines
has raised better than twenty tons on
the acre, and acre as good as
twenty acres of corn for fattening
hogs. Time of sowing April or May.
It can he sown or planted like cotton
in drills, wide enough to admit the
plough to run between the rows; the
crop mav be tended with a hoe like
potatoes, or cotton. The seed should
be soaked in rain water before sown.
Animals of every kind, horses except
ed, eat the leaves and roots with avid
ity. Hugs devour it not less eagerly
than corn. They are excellent for
cows that give milk, as their butter
and milk is of the best flavor. One
acre tended with the same care of cot
ton, on rich soil, will produce as much
as 20 acres of corn for stock.
Georgia Journal.
Distillation of Sea-water.—Mr.Cle
ment, a French Chemist, has invented
an apparatus for the distillation of sea
water, which produces six pounds of
good fresh water by the burning of
one pound of common coal. A single
still will supply five hundred pints of
water daily, and the distillation may
be performed during the roughest
weather.
IV hen Major General Sir John Mal
colm returned the first time from Per
sia, at u I ash ion able and crowded ‘ at
lio me,’ lie met Madame de Star!. Al
ter he had been introduced to the Ma
dame, and she had been informed of
his late arrival from the Persian court
‘ Bare John,* said she, * you must in
form ine all about Persia! and every
ting about it, and all you saw 'worst
notice—and to begin at de top of all,
’ VViia't is ilu* kil'ig of p er , ff
what docs he look like: < v •
replied Sir John, *he looks B
worthy of his destiny!’ ]B
is’ is destiny r* entreated \\ [ * I] B
Mle has,’ replied bir John, *
tired wives !’ ‘'" i ' J: B
1 So Rognault tie St. B
id what, did he die r’ said B- f'B
mg one of the Chamber of Peers*'®
a fever on the brain,’ was tho°B
’ impossible ! there was no finJV®
lor the disorder,* rejoined lU^"‘ (, B
A young minister received a B
from two different societies aton-lB
become their pastor. One wy • B
and able to give him a lar<>e t
and well united. The othenv a
and so divided that they had df
away their minister. In this
tion he applied to his father so s .
vice. An aged negro servant *;B
over-heard what was said, madev'B
reply : “ Massa, go where is dele'S
money, and de most Devil.”
the the advice, and was made the
struinent of uniting a distract,®
church, and converting many 5 0a ;,,8
Christ. B
EriTAPIt OX JOSEPH RISC,, B
Here lies a inun than whom no belle-; n
®
Who was,even when sleeping, alwav'g'i^H
King;
A King hy birth was he, and yet he
King, ■
Ir: life he was thin-Xing, and in death
Jo-King. HH
Barbadocs papers to 17thul;. 3 B
received by the Editor of t®{
Charleston Patriot. They
the following account of the
En hances at Para, which we nciß
tiuned some time since. ®
It appears that the Militiaofthfl
place who had for some timeleeß
without pay, had proceeded toplu®
der the public stores, when Cap®
Grecnfell, commander of a brig o®
war in the Imperial service, acre®
ly landed a large body of rnea,®
tacked the Militia, killed an®
wounded many, and secured th®
remainder, about 260. These h®
carried on hoard his brig and cob®
fined them under the hatches.Th®
dreadful consequence of this at®
■ was that hut four were found ail®
the next morning. The native*®
of the country became exasperffi®
■ at this horrible massacre, ®
vowed to sacrifice the Euro®
inhabitants to their revenge-®
consequence of which, the ia®
after applying to the Portusy®
Government for protection, ®
without success, immediately e®
harked in the brig Mary Ellen,®
arrived at Bridgetown. The wh®
number is 62, including the lln®
Consul, many merchants, and®
eral Portuguese gentlemen. It®
stated that his Britannic Majesty®
ships Eden and Scouti, weretopro®
ceed forthwith to Para. I
The Icarus, (English) sloop o®
war, with the Speedwell schr.o®
her way from the Havana, in flu®
ining the Isle of Pines for Pirates®
on the 24th ult. received infers®
tion of a recently formed pint-1®
establishment, in a river at the East®
end of the Isle, called Santa Fa- I
1 he Speedwell schr.wasancM®
ed off this river, and two boats t®
der Lieut. Lav ton ot the Icn®
and tw r o Midshipmen, were sent®
explore it, in the southern arm I
which, near some huts, a
schr. a row boat and a small c® e l
were found, and one pirate taiw- ■
One boat was left with thel
(which was subsequently hw I
whilst Lt. Layton accompanied ’ I
Mr. Strode, Midshipman 0 I
Speedwell, went to reconoitre '■ I
north west branch of the rIU V I
a turning of which, near “ I
some stakes had been driven I
prevent boats approaching, th e I
discovered a piratical fy uCt ‘I
which instantly fired intol )in \ , I
did also some persons c(,ncea . .I
in the bushes,and in this m elC1 ‘ I
manner Lieut. L. Mr. S. aru ‘ I
men, fell a sacrifice. ‘I he h’j 1 .1
maining of the boat’s crew, 21 I
badly wounded, escaped by c ’
ing the river,and concealing
selves in the mangrove husl^ 5
London. —The length of
of this city now lighted by E as ’. 8 „.
hundred and fifteen miles- 1
ly the length of the main p>| ,( p ot
which enter private houses,
being included. „ ■—*’***
. j\l INK months after date
• 1M tion will be made to the
ble court of Ordinary >t * . w ot
for leave to sell the r( ’ a .. co uiitf
Alexander Turner late of sa
deceased, to be sold (ov the**
the heirs and creditors ol s] 1 ’
MARHARET fUBNtB,
March 1,1824.