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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.