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VOLUME X.
TERM«:
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poetry.
WIIAT IS A YEAR ?
What is a year? ’Tis but a wave
On life’s dark rolling stream,
Which is so quickly gone that we
Account it But a dream ;
’Tis but a single, earnest throb
Os Time’s old iron heart,
Which tireless now and strong as when
Its first with life did st;-rt.
What is a year? ’Tis but a turn
Os Time’s obi brazen wheel,
Or but a page upon the book
Which time must shortly seal.
’Tis but a step upon the road
Which wl* must travel o’er,
A few more steps and we shall walk
Life’s weary road no more.
What is n year? ’Tis but a breath
From Time’s old nostrils blown,
As rushing onward o’er the earth,
We hear its weary moan.
’Tis life the bubble on file wave,
Or dew upon the lawn—
As transient ns the mist of morn
Helmut h the summer’s sur.
What is a year ? ’Tis but a type
Os life’s oft changing scene.
Youth’s happy morn comes gaily on
With hills ami valleys green ;
Next summer’s prime succeeds the spring
Then Autumu with a tear.
When comes old Winter—death and all
Must find a level here.
L ADIES’ HOOP.
“ It cannot be, it cannot be! ”
The lady said right mockingly.
“ Fain would I grant a parting kiss,
But how cau it be done in this ? ”
She pointed to her hooped dress;
And he sighed out in dire distress.
44 Full fifteen paces round about—
Ah me!—it makes one look so stout!
And full five steps, if measured through ;
Oh, goodness!—my!—what shall I do!
We can’t e’en take a last embrace,
Much less approach with face to face.”
He walked the lady round and round,
She seemed intrenched upon a mound i
Securely spanned and fortified,
As if all lovers she defied.
You’d sav if you that hoop should see,
A war-hoop it was meant to be.
He walked the lady round and round,
And stood all weary on the ground.
44 I’m sold,” quoth he— 44 ’tis all no go—
Oh! love, how could you serve me so?
Farewell! —in foreign lands I’ll range,
At least until the fashions change.”
He went to Cali-for-ni—a;
And in her hoop she walked away.
The world once called her quite the ton ,
And she wis'hooped in fact like one.
Such hollow hearts once wore a mask;
They dress now t ala brandy cask.
GENTLY CHECK A CHILD.
A child when asked why a certain tree grew
crooked, replied: 44 Somebody trod upon it, I sup
pose, when it was little.”
He who checks a child with terror,
Stops its play and stills its song,
Not alone commits an error,
But a grievous moral wrong.
Give it play, and never fear it-»-
Active life is no defect;
Never, never break its spirit—
Curb it only to direct.
Would you stop the flowing river,
Thinking it would cease to flow ?
Onward it must flow forever—
Better teach it where to go.'
Cl Southern VUtckh) Cilcrtunj ctnil YttUsccllancons Boiumtl, for live fjtme Circle.
LADIES' DEPARTMENT.
From the Ohio Fanner.
WRONG SIDE OUTWARD,
OR, CASHMERE AND CALICO.
“ Did I tell you about it, Eunice ?”
“About what?”
“My going to the city wrong side
outward.”
“ What do you mean ?” said Eunice.
“ Oh, I see you never heard the story,
so I will tell you. Two years ago, I
spent a few weeks with my friends, the
Wilmots, near the city of A . In
the family were two young ladies who
found it necessary to do a great deal of
shopping, and not a little visiting in the
city, and of course patronized the rail
road ionuecting their little village with
the “Green Street Depot” to no trifling
extent,
“ Now you shall see what a handsome
and gentlemanly conductor we have on
this route,” said Bell Wilrnot to me, ns
I took a luxurious cushion in a crowded
ear for a first “ miscellaneous trip ” to
“ ' Ho is my beau ideal of a conductor,’’
add,csl Kate : “ let the ear be ever so
crowded, he is sure to find a place for
ladies, and never objects to our band
boxes and carpet bags, as manv ill-na
tured fellows, dressed in a brief author
ity, are apt to do; and if our purses are
short after a shopping excursion, he
often ’ —Kate’s rhapsody was interrupt
ed bv the slarting of tlie.tmin.
“ We were whirled off to A in
about twenty minutes, yet 1 had oppor
tunity to notiee that the labelled official
teas indisputably very considerate and
attentive, at all events to our party. —
He opened the window which was swol
len by damp weather, at a look from
Kate, and ordered a Dutchman, smok
ing meekly upon the platform, into a
baggage car, at a symptom of faintness
from Bell. I could but acknowledge
tftat thinny Fern should add lo her list
of models a “ model conductor,” taking
this one for her original.
“ Arrived at our destination, I was
again entertained with my friends’ praises
of the various merchants and milliners
they were accustomed to patronize.
“ ‘ I always purchase silks at Weaver’s :
they are so conscientious, and never try
to palm off an inferior article upon a
customer. At Mrs. Lcssalie’s you will
find a superb assortment of gloves and
embroideries. The proprietress is a re
duced French countess, and Aie of the
most lady-like persons you ever saw,”
rattled Bell Wiimot.
“ ‘ And if you wish to buy shoes, bo
sure to call at Marvin’s ; they are so ac
commodating ; they never make wry
faces, if you happen to break a string, or
loosen a clasp, of any such trifling acci
dent,” added Kate.
“This was enough, yet if I needed
more to convince me of the superior ex
cellence of these aristocratic shopkeepers,
that afternoon’s observation would have
furnished'it. No sooner did the rich
brocades, and crapes, and ribbons of the
fair Misses Wiimot flutter inside a shop
door than every attendant, from proprie
tor to errand boy’, proceeded to don their
most obsequious smiles and agreeable
deportment. It was not strangt, Eunice.
Hie young ladies carried heavy purses,
and they were easily persuaded to lighten
them.
“ The afternoon passed pleasantly and
fatiguingly enough, in chatting and shop
ping, in shaking bands with old acquaint
ances, and trying to bow gracefully to
new introductions, and on our return,
alhid many expressions of satisfaction as
our purchases were unrolled and exhibit
ed before Mrs. Wiimot and Aunt Lucy,
the girls forced me to confess that the
A merchants and the A
and O conductor far surpassed
any others in the known world.
“And so it was, almost daily, for the
first fortnight of my stay. At one time
wo called, on a celebrated dentist for
some trifling tooth operation. He was
an acquaintance of Bell’s, and presented
MADISON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 18-56.
him to mo as a friend. He was very
handsome, and his voice and smile cap
tivating to ono who could appreciate
music and sunshine. Eunice, I was
amazingly pleased with that man. I,
who am so fastidious. I fancied him the
impersonation of skill and benevolence
—the head and the heart—the means
and the end—glorious combination for
those who set themselves up as the world’s
healers and teachers. He impressed me
as one of tho lew to whom*science may
safely commit her priceless treasures,
sure that they would be used only for the
blessing of humanity. Ah, Eunice, I
had only seen the silken sidle!
“‘Pray go on,” said Eunice.
“Ono rainy morning, I received a let
ter from home, giving notice!) that my
young sister was about to take a West
ern tour with a friend.—“ Now drosses
of course, are requisite,” wrote my moth
er, “ and I wish you to procure and
send them immediately.” Then followed
a list of the articles needed.
“This letter had been longer than
usual on tho route; that moment, I
knew sister Lib, amid a sympathizing
conclave of waiting milliners, marveled
at my long delay.
“The articles must be purchased dial
very day, raining as it was, and more
over, 1 must go alone; for Bell and Kate
bad gone to bed with hair in curl papers,
and novels under their pillows. Toward
liopn tho rain abated, and 1 notified un
friends of my determination to go to A
astonishment.
“‘Tomorrow 1 will beat your service,”
said Bell, “ but not to day. Why, you're
crazy—look at the clouds—you’ll take a
dreadful cold—don’t got that striped
tissue ; it frays shockingly.
“ I dressed, walked to the station, but
a few rods distant, and found myself
half an hour too early, Very soon the
clouds lowered, and rain fell in eataraels.
Nevertheless, I .stubbornly adhered to
til)- determination, the more stubbornly
that I knew the girls would,ridicule me
without mercy if I returned. But 1 look
ed at inv bonnet; and was thankful that
the old brown veil I found crumpled in
my pocket would protect it. My man
tilla was of watered silk, handsomely
trimmed, and I remembered a lady told
me that water would spot it. How fool
ish I had been to wear it.
“ Well, Eunice, what do you suppose
I did ? I turned it wrong side outVirds!
It was lined with the usual black muslin,
from which the gloss, had disappeared in
spots. I was the only Occupant of the
ladies” saloon, and enjoyed the full bene
fit of an eigbt-by-ten looking glass. I
glanced in it, and seeing what a ludi
crous figure*my old veil and rusty outer
garment made in contrast with my fine
cashmere travelling dress with its richly
trimmed basque, the idea of going to the
city thoroughly disguised, at once present
ed itself. The skirt of my dress was
separate from the body, and I had lined
it, for comfort in winter, with an old
gingham dress, clean and whole, but, I
must confess, sadly faded. Well, I turn
ed this wrong side outward, also.”
“ You don’t mean that you went to
the city in that style,” said Eunice.
“ I did, and enjoyed it, too, convinced
that I was doing a sensible thing. But
you shall hear. Scarcely was my old
toilette completed, when the whistle
sounded, and drawing the thick veil
tightly over my face, I made my way
: to the nearest car. And now commenced
the developements. The handsome and
gentlemanly conductor nearly knocked
me over in the doorway, in his willing
ness to pioneer a lady in blue silk witii
four flounces, a satchel, a hat box, a par
asol, and a lap dog safely out upon the
platform Returning while I stood gaz
ing vacantly at the rows of hats and
boots, none of which moved to relin
quish a seat ill my behalf, the model
conductor pointed to an uncomfortable
corner seat between a black woman
with a “ sooty ” baby and a white woman
with two babies. Os course I accepted
it, and the cunning prank* of the littlo
African made my hard seat endurable.
“ Well, I reached the city and made
my way to Weaver’s fashionable store.
The skies were weeping briskly, and I,
carrying a blue cotton umbrella, proba
bly did not call up golden visions to the
eyes of the young gentlemen clerks who
lounged upon the counters, or sat with
feet elevated’. When I inquired for silks,
tissues, grenadines, and flue summer
dress goods, there was au undivided stare.
“ It would take too much time to (ell
how some strainer silks, And half doitqn
berages were first, produced, and how r,
eventually convinced them that I under
stood their proper quality. Suffice it to
say, I purchased nothing there, though
tempting articles were finally displayed
before me, but suited myself at less pre
tentious establishments.
“Next, to Mrs. Lassalle’s I went, whose
anathemas upon mo for declining the
cotton laces presented mo. for linen, I
will not repent, but must say that they
were delivered in a very uneountess-iike
rage, though in excellent French.
“I did not try the shoe store that day,
hut, in passing Dr. Il.’s office, some
thing prompted me to enter. I had been
amused, and not. (he least disappointed,
by my afternoon’s experiences, but now
a littlo anxiety, mingled with muvh curi
osity. I bethought mo of a nervous
toothache that had robbed mo of sleep
for « portion of several nights, and which
1 had seditiously concealed from the
family, chiefly because Aunt Lucy’s
infallible Tenicdy in such cases was
whiskey and ginger, boiling hot, a reme
dy to mo infinitely worse than the
disease. Perhaps Dr. B. could name
something less objectionable.
“ I rang gently, and was admitted.
The doctor, who was talking and smoking
with a dashing young man, glanced at
my dress as I entered, and without fur
ther notice, went on with the conversa
tion. Finally, I instituted a slight cough,
and he turned toward me with
“ Well, old lady, what is the matter
with you ? ”
“I inquired with a suffering voice,
the best cure for un aching tooth.
“‘Crooked iron, maim, applied cold,
is the best thing, and animal magnetism i
is next best. Ever try it, hey ? ’ And i
the man of science winked and grinned j
to his companion, who in turn ejected a
quid of tobacco from his mouth, quite
near my poor gingham skirt, and laughed
immoderately. In two seconds I was in
the street, and on my way to tho depot,
questioning within myself, whether there
are such qualities yet remaining in our j
world, as unbought honesty and kind- ]
ness. My doubts were to bo removed,
'l ire train stood at the depot as I came
in sight, and I hurried my steps lest it
should depart without mo
“I managed to gain a seat, but lmd ;
no time to purchase a ticket, and y.lien ;
the conductor csiue, I felt for my porto- i
lnonaie to pay the necessary fare. It
was gone. An exploration of my pocket
to its lowest depths availed nothing, and
I was lost in a dilemma. I explained to
hirn that I should leave tho cars at the
next station, and would there borrow the
amount. Ho left me, muttering his sus
picions that the story was a lio, and went
his rounds.
“ Shortly after, some ono touched my
elbow, aud, on looking round, I was j
greeted by a lank, ragged, uncombed j
Irishman, who smiled aud held something t
toward me. It was my porte-monaie. j
“‘Faith, an’ havn’t I beon searchin’A
the cars for yc this blissid He ;
‘sure it was meself that saw ye take ver j
handkerchief from yer pocket, and send j
this ’ere thing a spinnin’ upon the pavin’
stones. And ye didn’t see Pat Crugan
after ye—faith, if I hadn’t been coining
the same road, a precious hunt ye might
have had for it.’ Bless the untutored,
uncorrupted Irish heart!
“ And now I was at 0 station i
and the sun, though low in the west, j
was shining brightly. I went directly to
the ladies’ room, and in five minutes
emerged therefrom a well-dressed lady,
with an uncovered bon Dot of the ‘latest
important.’ As tbe conductor crossed
the platform to give moving orders, I
stepped np and tendered my fare, saying
my purse had been found and returned
to me. You have a vivid imagination,
Eunice, if you can picture the counte
nance of that gentleman.”
“ Did you relate your adventures to
tho young ladies?” said Eunice.
“ No, indeed ! When the goods came
they were delighted with them, affirming
that ‘this silk came from Weaver’s; no
other merchant had anything like it;
and tholace from Mrs. Lassalle’s, they
1 remembered seeing it there!” I kept
my own counsel. And now, Eunico,
what do you think of it all ? ”
“ I think tbe wisdom you purchased
was cheap enough, at all events. Yet
there is one other place to which I wish
you had gone.”
“ And where is that ? ”
A To church ! ” said Eunice.
No Little Girls Now.
What lias become of all tbe little
girls now a days? One sees a plenty of
miniature young ladies with basque waists
and flounces, dress hats and tony watches,
promenading the streets or attending the
juvenile parties, but alas, a,little girl is
a rarity—one who will play baby house
and live a life time in a few hours, ma
king day and night succeed one another
with astonishing rapidity, a fifteen min
utes recess at school affording plenty of
time for weeks of play house for life;
one whom a neat, plain gingham dress
and sun bonnet is tho perfection of
school dress—sun bonnets that will not
bo injured if they arc wet in the river or
brook, and aprons strong enough to
bring homo any quantity of nuts from
tho woods, in lieu of baskets: and good
strong shoes that will come oil’ with ease
on a warm summer's day, when a cool
brook tempts the warm feet to lave them
selves in its waters, instead of delicate
gaiters, which shrink from such rude
treatment.
Well, it is to be hoped that the race
of little girls will not become utterly ex
tinct. There must be some “waiting
their sweetness upon tho desert air,” for
surely they bloom not in our cities, and
but rarely in our villages.
At an ago when little girls used to be
dressing dolls,'we now see them decked
in ail their finery, parading streets,
and flirting with young students.
Where on earth are the mothers of
these precious flirts? Are they willing
to allow such folly ?
Then as to dress—why, little miss
must be dressed as fine as her mama;
and the,wonder is, how will she be able
to outvie her present splendor when she
“comes out.” But in regard to this go
ahead age some new inventions will en
able her to accomplish citfsirc.
as there are no little girls, so there
will be no young ladies; for when miss
leaves school, she is engaged, soon mar
ries, and takes her place in the ranks of
American matrons.
How will she fill her place? for liow
or when has she found time to prepare
for life’s duties? Wonder if it would
not be a good plan to turu over anew
leaf, begin with them in due season,
and see if it is not possible to have again
darling little creatures, full of life and
glee, who can run and jump without
fear of tearing flounces, and finally have
a sort of healthy young ladies upon
whom the sun has been allowed to shine,
the active exercise in the open air be
stowed an abundant supply of life and
energy.
Unite a healthy body to the highly
cultivated minds of our American moth
ers, aud they would be the admiration
of the world instead of being pitied for
their fragility. —Home Journal.
To Judge of Flour. —To judge if
flour be pure and good, take a little in
the hand and squeeze it for a minute ;
if good, it can be put out of the hand in
a lump, retaining the form given to it by
the band; if adulterated, it will fall
apart as soon as it leaves the hand.
44 Rifle, Axe, and Saddle Bags.”
The Rev. Mr. Millburn, the blind
preacher in a lecture lately delivered
before the Young Men’s Association at
Albany, N. Y., upon the three esseutials
of pioneer life above named, relates the
following incident of border adventure
in Kentucky in 1780.—We clip the ex
tract from tho repoit of tho Evening
Journal :
“ A block house, which served the
double purpose of a fort and dwelling, was
tbe habitation of Boone and his compan
ions. Fearing a descent-of the savages,
from various premonitions of danger
understood by the experienced hunter,
he sent two trusty scouts named McLel
lan and White, to learn, if possible, tbe
destination of tbe savages. After pro
ceeding some distance they ascended a
bluff, precipitously steep on tho one side
and fenced by jutting rocks on another,
whence they had a broad and extensive
prospect, and on another side ran a deep
and rapid river, on which side they
found themselves in a dangerous proxim
ity to their enemy. Beneath them they
beheld a huge number of squaws and
wigwams, the usual indications of an
Indian village, and in the open space
they observed tbe warriors, painted in
their war pattern, evidently showing
that their mission was one of blood.
They determined to remain and watch
the movements of their enemy, and for
this purpose concealed themselves from
observation, until forced from their
hiding-place by their water being ex
hausted, pf which they had but a scanty
supply. McLellan went in search of some
with two canteens, and had not proceed
ed far when lie discovered a beautiful
fountain gushing from a rock near the
base of the bluff. Having procured the
much needed element, he returned to
his companion, and they determined to
( get a supply daily, and continued to do
!so for several days. One day White
went to the spring, and after filling liis
vessels and refreshing himself with a
copious draught, he laid down his rifle
i and sat on it, and child-like, amused
| himself by looking at the workings of
| nature, beautifully exemplified in tho
I bubbling fountain. This mail, educated
jin the midst of Indian cunning, whoso
; every sense was sharpened to the utmost
acuteness, was thus amusing himself
when he heard footsteps. He sprang to
his feet just in time to see and be seen
by two squaws, the elder of whom raised
the war cry, which he well knew if re
peated and heard by the band would be
certain death. He sprang upon them
and seizing both by the throat, plunged
into the stream with them. This he very !
soon accomplished with the elder, but j
her companion being young a [id vkjOi
ous, struggled with her captor with
much effort, and when nearly exhausted
ho heard her with much horror utter ex >
clamatious in English.
“To rescue her from drowning, and j
bear her up from the ascent to the sum
mit of the bluff to bis coiiipanioti, was
tho work of a moment, whore, when
sufficiently recovered, she informed them
that herself and father had settled on
the present site of Wheeling, and were
taken prisoners by the Indians, who soon
put her father to death and treated her
with the utmost barbarity. In the mean
time, the Indians perceiving the body of
the woman floating on the river and re
cognizing the print of the white man’s
fingers on her neck, approached the
bluff shouting their yell. Tho scouts
recommended the girl to return to the
Indians, and consult her own safety by
telling how the affair happened. She
replied, “I would prefer to die ; n tho
presenco of the whites than to be a slave
to the Indians. Give me a rifle, and
see what I can do.” But this they
could not do—yet they were determined
to sell their lives as dear as possible.
As before described, on one side they
were shielded by a rock, and with un
erring accuracy, shot several of the
bravest and most daring of the foe.
Ono point was accessible from an im
pending cliff which overhung the bluff
NUMBER 1
and in that direction was the rifle of
McLellan pointed, with finger on trigger,
waiting for a sufficient party of the
Indians, (whom he e°pied raaking tho*
attempt to surprise them from that quar
ter,) to appear al>ove the rock to form a
target to aim at. At last the savage,
with upraised tomahawk and exulting
yell, was about to make the leap and
spring upon his foe, when the flint of
MuLellan’s rifle hung fire. He had low
ered the butt and v as about replacing it
by a fresh flint from his pocket, when Be
saw the Indian, whose shout of victory
was turned to one of pain, fall headlong
into the chasm beneath, but shot by
whose rifle be knew not. Several others
shared the same fate and in a similar
manner. At the approach of night the
Indians withdrew, and the scouts were
congratulating themselves on their suc
cess so far, and wondering who their
unknown auxiliary was, when they be
held the rescued girl, rifle in hand, ap
proach them. This at once accounted
for the prompt and efficient aid they re
ceived. She informed them at the early
part of the conflict she succeeded in
surprising one of the braves asleep, and
possessed herself of his rifle and ammu
nition.
“ Determined to leave under cover of
the night, the girl volunteered to act as
their guide, when, to their disappoint
ment and dismay, they found their re
treat cut off by a picket of Indians, sta
tioned to intercept their progress.
“The girl cautioned them not to make
the slightest noise and to remain station
ary.—She left them and shortly returned,
telling them that she succeeded in put
ting them on a false trail, and that they
could now proceed. They had not gone
far when they were alarmed by the bark
of a dog. Again the girl gave the in.
junction to remain still, with the inform
ation that they were now in the center
of the camp of a thousand warriors, but
to trust to her. At length they got
clear of the village and reached the
block house in safety, when, to the sur
prise of all, the girl was found to be sis
ter to one of Boone’s companions - "
British Ignorance. —The English
press are as ignorant of our politics a*
they are of our geography. The Lon
don Hews stultifies itself by saying; “The
alliance between Old and New England,
in a crisis which tests the very principles
that are the life blood of boih,'".i l be
stronger than the Union which the North- <
ern and Southern Stales are alike threat
ening to dissolve. Massachusetts will
never aim a stabat Europe to make south
Carolina Queen.” —Onr London cotem
porary should remember that though we
may have our iittle domestic squabbles,
it is always dangerous for a stranger to
interfere in them. Massachusetts would
see ail Europe bleeding at every pore,
before she would permit a foreign insult
to Smith Carolina to pass unrevenged.
We may be “distinct as the billows” in
our home quarrels, but we are always
“one as the sea ” when the blast of war
calls upon us to stand shoulder to shoul
der for the Union ! — Philadelphia 9un,
«.«.*■
Constitution' of- the Earth.— A
writer in the Scientific American, after
examining all the various theories con
cerning the structure of the earth, en
dorses the conclusion that the world is
one mass or globe of mixed metals, of
which the mere crust has become rusted,
or of earthy form ; the outer rind, as it
were, preventing any rapid combination
taking place with the metallic surface>
live or six miles below the surface of the
dry land. Eruptions from volcanoes, he
thinks, are produced by the sea getting
down to the metallic surface through
some fissure in the earth’s crust; decom
position of the water then takes place
tire, flame, aud steam causing eruption. ,/""'
llow young men can consent to loaf
about the corners ns they do, when a
good dose of arsenic can bo purchased
for a dime, is really surprising. Loafers
ought to think of this mattut.