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VOLUME X.
Original poeinj.
“WOULD I WERE WITH THEE!”
Would I were with thee,” darliug,
Where night diops fall
In mourning tears, above thy funeral pall—
Where murmuring pine trees ever watch and
wave ;
“Would I were with thee,” darling, in the cold
grave.
“ Would I were with thee, baby,
Where bleak winds mourn
There requiem songs, above thy little form ;
u Would I were with thee,” where young myrtles
shed
Their snowy bloom around thee—would I were
dead,
“Would I were with thee,” dearest,
Where green willows weep;
And quiet stars watch o’er thy wakeless sleep,
Hosting beside thee, where white roses bloom:
“ Would I were with thee,” dearest, in the dark
tomb.
“ Would I were with thee,” darling,
Where sorrowing pain
May never throb thy little heart again ;
Whjre purple skies grow bright with angel eyes*
" Would I were with thee,” baby, in the bright
skies.
Augwta, 1350. Sh&na.
TO ANNIE.
There’s a brightness in thine eye, Annie,
Like light in summer hours;
There’s an odor in thy sigh, Annie,
More sweet thuu opening (lowers,
There’s ruby on thy lip, Annie,
More bright than rosy wire;
From no other cup I’d sip, Annie,
Hut the nectat brim of thine.
The music of thy tongfte. Annie,.
Would still a seraph’s voice;
There’s a sweetness in thy song, Annie,
Like the breeze when flowers rejoice.
A word is in thy kiss, Annie,.
An.l in thv smile I see
Fuch rapture. I’ve no wish, Annie,
But de.'tiuy and thee.
WHO BEARS THE BLAME?
Who hours the blame? From North to South
An impious threat has rung;
From Southern lip and Northern mouth
Defiant words are flung—
The words which are a nation’s shame—
*' Disunion,*’ “ Strife!” Who beurs the blame?
Ho! Massachusetts! land where first
Fair Freedom’s banner’s rose;
Ho! Carolina! land where burst
Jler lightnings on our foes!—
Are ye ashamed of Moultrie’s fame ?
Or Warren’s blood? Who bears the blame?
A voice from Moultrie’s battle ground,
To warn the South, comes forth;
From Bunker’s height, with* solemn sound,
A voice rebukes the North!—
The martyred dead their wrongsproclaim,
And North and South must bear the bluiuc.
They bear the blame—or South or North,
Who range the hostile line—
Whose words are fierce, whose hearts are wroth,
Who threaten—arm—combine;
Who marshal here a hostile band,
And there in hostile columns stand!
They bear the blame, who urge the strife
In freedom’s hallowed guise;
They bear the blame who bear the knife,
In slavery’s cause to rise:
Or North or South, ’tis still the same—
Ye dare not ask, “ Who bears the blame?”
Forbear! forbear! The warning comes
From Vernon's sacred tomb
With mourning march, with muffled drums,
Our martyrs walk the gloom.
Our star-thick banner sinks in shame—
Our Uuion falls! Who bears the blame?
A. J. H. Duganse.
PROTESTATIONS.
If the apple grows
On the apple tree,
And the wild wind blows
On the wild wood free;
And the deep stream flows
To the deeper sea ;
And they cannot help growing
And blowing, and flowing;
I cannot help loving thee.
Yet if the wild winds blew
Never more on the lea;
And no blossoms grew
On the healthy tree;
And the river untrue
Escaped from the sea;
And they all had ceased blowing,
And growing, and flowing;
I’d ne’er cease loving thee.
And till that hour,
In the day or night;
In the field or bower,
In the dark or bright;
In the fruit or the flower;
Iu the bloom or blight;
In my reaping or sowing,
My coming or going,
I’ll ne’er cease loving thee.
Charles Mack at.
ON A WIDOW.
Widows contain a lot of monstrous fun,
Like mourning coaches when the funeral’s done;
If e’er inclined to wed one—seek a rafter,
There hang yourself, and you’ll be flad forentr
oft nr.
Cl Southern lilcckhj Citaanj anti Journal, for ll)c £jome Circle.
Cl Capital Siovij,
THE CAREFUL DEALER;
OR
FORTY-ONE TONS OF INDIGO.
Let us begin with a maxim. “In
matters of business, if you can help it,
as far as possible, never commit your
self by speaking hastily.”
If the above proposition can be toler
ated bv the reader, let him read on, end
know that the hero of this little moral
sketch was a douce and canny Scot,
making up, by their great variety, for
the limited extent of his dealings. Ho
was a chapman in a promiscuous line.—
In fact—why should we attempt to dis
guise the truth ?—he kept what in Lon
don would be called a chandler's shop.—
He condescended, merely for the con
venience of his immediate neighbors, to
sell candles as low as a farthing apiece
—indeed, he would, for the nonce, fur
nish a light so attenuated that you might
purchase two for a farthing, and vet lie
had small beer in bis emporium more at
tenuated still. 110 also sold dveing ma
terials, among which he might have
classed his small ale, and he had coculus
indiciis to set off against a ha fpcnnv’s
worth of salt, barilla against two sheets
of parliament, cake for a haulifee, and
indigo by the pound against snuff by
the Indfounce.
Indeed, our trustworthy friend, Don
aid M’Gre, had no small pride in bi
shop; and the street in which lie lived,
in the glide old • town of Aberdeen, had
just as much pride in Donald. Really,
Donald was a sate chi.-! ; he kept his
accounts accuiately, both with God and
man, Ibr he was as punctual at kirk as
in his payments, and as he allowed no
long scores with his neighbors, lie took
care never to run in debt by crimes ot
omission, ryhich must some day be set
tled before a tribunal awful.
Having thus sufficiently described
Donald's circumstances,, wo must now
proceed to narrate the first grand step
that ho made towards acquiring the
splendid foitune he so well deserved,
and lived so long to enjoy.
Ho was out of indigo, that is to snv,
all the indigo that lie lately had, had
gone out of his warehouse by driblet'.—
Thereupon he writes a letter to the house
in London, a drysaltery in the most ex
tensive lire of business, ordering ‘‘forty
one pons weight of indigo,” stating, at
the same time, that if there was not a
vessel they must “get one Such were
the exact words he used.
Now at the time this occurred, commu
nication between Aberdeen and London
was rare, and at the farthest, folir times
in the year was the utmost extent that
Donald M’Grieand his wholesale dealers
addressed each other. These latter were
very much surpiiscd.at the extent of the
order, and the reader xyill not wonder
at it when he is informed that they nev
er could suppose for a moment that a
vessel could be ordered on purpose to
carry forty-one pounds of indigo; so,
after much scrutiny of the very hiero
glyphlcal marks.of M’Grie, all the heads
of the firm took it thinly into their heads
that their correspondent had fairly writ
ten forty-one tons.
They knew very little of the man,
and the nature and extent of his busi
ness; all, however, they did know, was
most satisfactory. They had done busi
ness with him nearly twenty years, and
had, during all that time, been extreme
ly well pleased with the punctuality of
his payments, added to which, they had
heard that he was wealthy. Upon all
these grounds they without hesitation
executed the order; but-, as they had
not anything like the quantity on hand,
they were themselves obliged to become
purchasers in order to fulfil the commis
sion. Having collected the quantity
they supposed that Donald had specified,
they shipped it for Aberdeen, sending
with it an invoice, and also a bill of
lading by post
When iL’Grio received this precious
bill of lading, his astonishment was at
MADISON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, JUNE 21, 1856
once ludicrous and stupendous. At
length, in order to give himself a little
mental relief, bo determined to set it
down for a lroax, “ for,” said ho “what
can tho people of London mean, by send
ing me forty-ono tons of indigo 3 ” It
was more than sufficient, with the then
consumption, to supply Aberdeen for a
gudo Scotch generation—twenty one
years. However, his prudence still pre
vailed over every other operation of his
mind.
Like a canny Scot, he kept his per
plexity to himself, for nothing was far
ther from his thoughts than to run hith
er and thither, with his mouth wide open
and the letter in his hand, in order to
tell 1 lis tale of wonder, and exeite the
stupid acclamations of his neighbors.—
Notwithstanding this stoical conduct,
lie could not so far command his depoit
uient hut that those about him remark
ed a definite, though a mysterious change
in his whole man. lie was neatly si
lent ; but the activity of his feet made
up for the idleness of his tongue. He
was fidgety, repeatedly leaving his shop
without any conceivable reason, and
then returning as hastily on the same
rational grounds. For once in his life,
his neighbors thought tliut wily Donald
did not know very well what he was
about.
In the midst of this agitation, time
and tide, which wait for no man, brought
the vessel that bore tho indigo to Abtr
doen. It would seem, that in order to
quicken Donald’s apprehensions, she had
an extraordinary quick passage. No
.sooner wtw she moored, than the captain
h .stoned to find the merchant to w hom
this large and valuable cargo was con
signed. Having gone previously to the
very first merchants, lie, by nice grada
tions, at length arrived at the actual con
signee, holiest Donald M’Grie. Indeed,
the skipper was as much' astonished at
the minuteness of the warehouse as
M'Grie had been at the magnitude of
his cargo; that warehouse, had it, con
tained nothing else, would not have held
one-fifth part of the consignment.
After the few first introductory sen
tences, that made each aware of what
was their mutual business, the captain
became convinced that all was right
from t-lie quiet conduct of Donald, who
betrayed neither emotion nor surprise,
though at the same time his very heart
was melting within him, as melts an ex
posed rushlight on a sunshiny summer’s
day.
“ And sae, sir, ye’ll bo sure yo line
brought the tottle of the forty-one tons ?
A hugeous quantity, eh, sir! And did
ye ever ken any one moti hae sae mick
le before ?”
“Never, Mr. M’Grie, never. Why,
sir, do you know that tho difficulty of
getting all the indigo together had an
effect on tho market? It was fully
three farthings the pound dearer on
‘ Change’ the very day I left London.”
“O, aye—purely. It was—was it?
Now, I’ll put ye ane case—not that it is
o’ the slightest consequence, but merely
to satisfy my conjecture —supposing,
mon, ye had all this indigo,what would
ye just do wi’ it ?”
“ Why,” said the skipper, “ I should
not have bought it unless I wanted it;
and if I had wanted it, I should have
known what to do with it. This is,
Mr. M’Grie, precisely your case.”
“Ah, weel, my mon, but you’re an un
co canny chieb Do yo no ken whether
his precious majesty, may God bless him,
aint gnen to make volunteer blue regi
mentals—blue is a pure standing color.”
“ Why, I don’t know but some report
of that sort may be stirring; for, what
with your large demand and other mat
ters, indigo is certainly getting up. But
my time is precious. Hero’s your bill
of lading—so just sign my papers —ah,
all right—when and where shall I dis
charge the cargo ?”
“Don’t sash yourself, there’s nae hur
ry. I'll just speak to two or three of
my worshipfu’ correspondents, and let
you know on the morrow, or aiblins the
next clay after. I may hae to send to
Edinboro’ anent tho matter.”
“ Ah, yes, I understand ; a joint con
signment. It wont prove a bad specula
tion, I’m thinking. Morning, morning,
Mr. M'Grie.”
So away trudged tho skipper, leaving
the owner of much indigo in a state of
doleful perplexity, such as ought not to
befall any honest man. All that night
he kept exclaiming, “ Gude Lord, gude
Lord, what shall I do with all this indi
go ? Na, na, Donald will na commit him
self. But it is a mickle heap.
Very early was Donald abroad tho
next morning, inquiring of everybody
all the possible uses to which indigo
could be put. He got but very little
satisfaction on that point. He began
himself to look dark blue. He had al
most resolved upon a journey to London,
awful as it appeared to him, to have this
mistake explained, but he still resolved
to wait a little, atid to do nothing in a
hurry.
The next thing that happened to Don
ald, with his forty-ono tons of dye, was
his sad reflection when an old woman
came and bought of him a farthing’s
worth of stono blue.
“ Had ye na better try indigo, my
glide falen ? ” says Donald to the wash
erwoman, quite pawkily.
“ And what think ye, glide mon,
M'Grie, I’ll he doing with indigo in the
suds? Out awn, mon; but yer gaffing
a pair old bodv.” So off' the old lady
trudged with a damaged temper.
“ Had l sold but a farthing’s worth of
this domined indigo, ’twould have been
a beginning. Hae the mild washer
bodies hae taken to it! and every little
helps.”
About this time, as the skipper, who
had just brought tho indigo was passing
the principal inn of Aberdeen, he ob
served a post chaise and four, with the
horses all foam, stop with a most im
posing jerk at the door, and the manag
ing and confidential clerk of the firm of
Ilubbons, Ilobbins & Robbins, the emi
nent dry-salters. The clerk almo t flew
into tho arms of the skipper, and with
breathless eagerness asked him if he
had delivered tho indigo to Donald
M’Grie ?
“No, it is still in the vessel, blit ho has
the manifest and tho bill of sale.”
“ Then tho property is now vested in
him ?”
“As securely as the hair upon your
own head is your own property. He
seems cautious, even for a Scotchman.”
“ Is ho in a large line of business ?”
“I can’t really say that. We should
call his place of trade nothing better
than a chandler’s shop, in London. But
they manage tilings in another way
here.”
“What can he possibly want with
this indigo ? lie has actually draii ed
thejuarkct, and wo have just received
advices that, all the crops of indigo have
failed in the West Indies. There is al
so a large demand for it from govern -
ment, and it is now actually worth its
weight in gold.”
“You don’t say so ? Why, he was
saying something like it. No doubt
but that some West Indiaman has made
tho run by herself, and reached this
place without waiting for a convoy, and
brought the news of the failure of crops.
Besides, lie talked loud about his corres
pondents.”
“And I am losing all this precious
time! Where does ha live? I know
nothing ot the place.”
“ I will go with you, if you choose.—
I should like to see how our deuco Scot
manages it.”
“No, good captain. Just show me
the door. If I prosper, you will have
to take the stuff'back to London.”
“So I thought. But mind your heal
ings and distance with M’Grie. He is
an over cautious tradesman.”
It had been a dull morning with Don
ald. He had sold a little snuff, and a
little sand, a little cheese, and a half score
of balads for a half-penny, but not a
particle of indigo, and no more stone or
powdered bluo. He was never known
to give such short weight. He had
wrangled awfully with his customers,
and was altogether in a misty humor.—
“I would just gio twa pounds Scotch
to get out of this scrape, and some odd
silver over;” and as he thus exclaimed
aloud, ho struck the pound of butter that
lie was making up, with his wooden pad
dle, a blow so spiteful that it resounded
like the report of a pistol.
At this moment the clerk entered.—
He paused for a space just within the
threshold, scornfully surveyed the shop
and its contents, looked with an air that
was not far short of contempt on its pro
prietor, and immediately settled in his
mind his plan of action. Ho was
something of tho petit maitre ; so he
placed his white cambric handkerchief
beforo his nose and mouth, and then
jerking it away, exclaimed, “Faugh!”
taking from his waistcoat pocket a
smelling bottle, which, like Shakspeare’s
popinjay,
Ever and anon he gave to his nose,
And took it away again.”
“ What would you please to buy, hon
est man ?” said Donald, pettishly.
“ Buy, my good fellow, buy ? Docs
any one ever buy anything here ? You
will pardon me, but the stench is intoler
able.”
“Yo fause young cnllunt! Here ho
naething hut wholesome smells, such ns
sic pair thread-paper boddies as your
ainself might grow sleek upon. An yo
no like the odor, healthful as it be
twist round yer ugly snout, and there
lies the doorway. So tramp, ye ne’er
do week”
“Pardon me, lam sure, sir, that I
did not come hero to quarrel with yon,
but merely to rectify a mistake. I be
lieve I am speaking to Mr. M’Grio—Mr.
Donald M’Grio ? ”
“Yo don't Ico noo," said Donald
moodily.
“ I wish to release you from a great
deal of uneasiness, in making right this
little mistake of yours.”
“ And pray where do you come from ?"
“ London, Mr. M’Grie—tho centre of
the arts, the scat of sovereignty, the
emporium of the world, hut that is
neither hero nor there— l came from
London, Mr. M'Grie.”
“ And how might yo a’ made this
long journey? Aid ins by the slow
wagon 1”
“It’s you that are slow, my good sir,”
said the clerk, flourishing his handker
chief tastefully. “ A chaise and four—
spanked along—astonished the natives—
never lost a moment, I assure you.”
“Ye’ll ho making along stay, nae
doubt, in bonny Aberdeen.”
“Not a moment after I’ve rectified
this little mistake. Southward, ho !
That’s tho word 1 ”
“ So,” thought Donald, “ this spruce
young chap is come I’m sure, about tho
indigo. I'll save my two pounds Scotch
and the odd silver. He did not travel
post for nothing. I shall be clear of my
bargain free. But let us not be in a hur
ry.”
“ Ye arc come to Aberdeen about the
indigo, doubtless?” said Donald, after
a pause, and very deliberately.
“Yes. My principals feel sure that
you have made a trifling mistake in the
amount of your order; so, to relieve
your anxiety, they have sent mo down
to you, to say that they are willing to
take the indigo back, and releaso you
from the bargain, provided that you wi6
pay the expenso of tho freight—and a
very generous offer it is, I can tell you. - ’
“ I am sure I am over obliged to the
good gentlemen. But pray, sir, who
may be yer ainself ? A modest young
man, no doubt, but humble—yer pre
ferment’s all to come. One would just
like to know whom one is treating wi’ —
some junior clerk, or, perhaps one of
tho warehouse men ? — surely yo no be
ane of the porters ?”
Very indignant indeed was the fop at
these degrading conjectures. With
much hauteur, ho exclaimed, “I must
acquaint yon that I am the confidential,
principal and managing director of the
firm’s vast mercantile operations ; that
I am a. near relation of Mr. Hnbbens,
the head of the firm ; and that I have
full power and authority to do just what
I please in this, as in ever)’ oilier trans
action. My name, sir, is Daniel Ilub
bens, at your service. What do you
say to my oiler ? ”
" I should like to glance at your au
thority—no offence.”
Mr. Donald Uubbens was offended
however; but finding the Scotchman
firm, he was obliged to give him the
necessary vouchors that he was empow
ered to treat with him for a re-sale of
the merchandise. The examination of
this document still further opened the
eyes of Mr. M’Grio to tho vnlue of his
late purchase; and he consequently be
came more dogged nud consequential.
Mr. Uubbens, perceiving the turn that
affairs were likely to take, and that he
had a difficult task to perform, at once
altered tho loftiness of his manner, and
said :
“ Well, well, my dear sir, the fact is,
you long bought from us. I wish now
to see, if we, our very respectable firm,
cannot purchase from you. So, come
down to my inn, and we’ll talk the mat
ter over a bottle of the best you can
call for.”
“O, there’s nne occasion ; just say a’
here.”
“ No, no, my dear sir. Como with
me you must. lam very tired, and the
best supper that Aberdeen can produce
is providing for us two.”
“ Sae ye are prepared for me, I under
stand. Ye would na hae tn'en all this
troublous work for little. I’ll awn’ with
you, my man.”
And away they both went; —in the
short journey to the inn, Donald cogi
tating on the utmost that he should ask
for tho re sale of the indigo, and the
managing cleik endeavored to diveit
his thoughts fr in the value of I lie goods
in his possession.
The supper and accessaries were the
best that ever fell to tho lot of Donald
to share ; but he was prudent, and the
clerk gained no advantage through the
means of his lavish expenditure of c hoice
wines; so, after many flourishes, and
much circumlocution, he was forced to
put tho plain question to his guest,
“ What will you take to pass your
cargo of indigo back to our firm
“Troth, Mr. Uubbens, I'm at a loss a
bit. What will ye gie, truly ? ”
“ Why, M’Grie the fact is, wo have
received a very unexpected order for the
article, and our people have empowered
me to conic to Aberdeen, and oiler you
a thousand pounds to return the cargo
just as you got it. There is a glorious
chance for you ! A thousand pounds!
Don’t you feel vourself in heaven?”
“No, no; I’m belter advised than
that comes to. I did na buy the mickle
lot hut upon sound calculations. I have
friends, sir, friends who have the first
intelligence.”
It is as I suspected, thought the clerk;
he has had the first news of the general
failure of tho crops.
“ I’ll tell you what it is, Mr. M'Grie—
it’s a bold step, but I’ll take it upon my
self to double the offer. Two thousand
sir—two thousand! Hey?"
“Indeed no, my man, I can make
mair o’t than that.”
“ Well, I must let you keep it,” said
tho youngster, with an air of well-affect
ed indifference.
“ Weel, weel, young sir, here’s to yer
vera gude health, and a pleasant journey
back again.”
“ Thank you sir. May tho indigo
prosper with you.”
They drank two glasses of wino each,
in silence. Tho mortification of Ilub
bens could not he concealed, while
M’Grie’s visngo represented content carv
ed out in stone.
After considerable pause tho clerk lost his
temper entirely—his patience had long
been gone before — and he resumed the
attack upon tho imperturbable Donald-
L\t length the would-be purchaser, not at
all liking tho prospect and tho shamo of
an unsuccessful journey back to his prin
cipals, in a fit of desperation pulled out
his private instructs n?, and said :
NUMBER 25
“ Hero, read that, obstinata man of
iron that you are. Just so far lam per
mitted to go, and no farther.”
M’Grie read very deliberately that hit
host was empowered to offer him the
freight both ways, nnd four thousand
pounds.
It is driving me hard,” said Donald,
“ but as you are an uncommon amiable
man, and not to sash with your employ
ers, gude men, I’ll just consent. And
to show ye that I can be liberal, too,
why, when ye hae settled the reckoning,
I'll stand a pint o’ Glenlivel atween the
twa o’ us.”
After this, the transaction was imme
diately finished, and the money paid
down.
Donald M'Grie took accession of for
tune coolly and temperately. He re
flected that men make a thousand un
lucky for one lucky mistake, and that
cargoes of indigo don’t always quadru
ple themselves in price when bought by
misadventures. Reflecting upon ail of
this, he resolved at this, the proper sea
son, to retire from business. So he
made over his stock in trade, and his
house, to a nephew —-for a consideration,.
of course—and bought the lands of
C C , which said estate is at
this moment worth five times the money
paid for it.
We have made out our case, and that
by means of no fictiou. It well exetn-'
plifies our moral: “In matters'of mo
ment never speak hastily.” In the lives'
of the most unfortunate among us, many
lucky opportunities occur. It is neither
the learned nor the clever who know the
best how to seize them, and to turn
them to the best advantage. This fac
ulty belongs to the prudent. Had Don
ald M'Grie spoke first, nnd spoke the
wish of his heart, ho would have said,-
“pray take fifty pounds, and release me
from my bargain.” 110 held his tongue
until it was the proper time to speak,
and thus realized a handsoino fortune'
for himself and children.
Getting an Invitation.
It was observed that a rich man never'
invited any one (o dine wi.h him. “I’ll
lay a wager,” said a wag, “I cari got an
invitation from him.”
The wager being accepted, he goes
the next day to the rich man’s house
about the time he was going to dine and
tells the servant that he must speak with
his master, immediately, for he could
sive him, a thousand pounds.
“Sir,” said the servant to his master,
‘here is a man in a great hurry, who
says he can save you a thousand pounds.”
“ What is that, sir ? Can you save
me a thousand pounds?”
“ Yes, sir, I can ; but I see you are at'
dinner: I will go myself and dine, and
call again.”
“ Oli, pray, sir, come in and take din
ner with me.”
“ I shall be troublesomo."
“ Not at all.”
The invitation was accepted. As
soon as dinner was over, and the family
retired, the conversation was resumed.
“ Well sir,” said the man of he house,
“ now to your business. I'r.y let me
know how I am to save a thousand
pi u ids.”
“Why, sir,” said the other, “I hoar
that you have a daughter to dispose of
in m trriage.”
“I have, sir.”
“And that you intend to portion her
with ten thousand pounds.”
“ I do, sir.”
“ Why, then, sir, let me have her,
and I will take her at nine thousand.”
The master of tho house rose in a
passion and kicked the fellow out of
doors.
Fok Mothers’ Eyes.— Mothers who’
encourage their daughters in supeificial
accomplishments and bold display,-are
often preparing for them a lifetime of
chagrin and misery. On tho other hand,
when they aro trained at home, by pre
cept and example,in retiring, industiious,
studious, virtuous habits, they are pre
pared to be useful and happy through
,i ut life.