The Madison family visitor. (Madison, Ga.) 1847-1864, November 15, 1856, Image 1

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VOLUME X. Sflfcl Poctnj. LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG. Love me little, love me long, Is the burden of my song: Love that is too hot and strong Burnetii soon to waste: Still I would not have thee cold, Not too backward or too bold ; Love that lasteth till ’tis old Fadeth not in haste. Love me little, love me long, Is the burden of my song. If thou lovest me too much, It will not prove as true a touch: Love me little, more than such, For I fear the end: I am with little well content, And a little from ihce sent Is enough with true intent, To be steadfast, friend. Love me little, love me long, Ac. Constant love is moderate ever, And it will through life persever, Give me that with true endeavor, I will it restore: A suit of durance let it be, For all the weathers that for me, For the land or for the sea, Lasting evermore. Love me little, love me long, Ac. Winter’s cold or summer’s heat, Autumn’s tempest on it beat, It can never kuow defeat, Never can rebel: Such the love that. I would gain, Such the love, I tell thee plain, Thou must give or woo in vain; So to thee farewell. Love me little, love me long, Ac. 1589. THE BROOK AND TIIE SPARROW. A FABLE. “Oh whither so fast, my lady Brook, Oh whither so fast to-day ? Tarry a while from your onward dance, And peep out here with your merry glance, To chat with a friend, I pray.’' And the Brook made answer —** I cannot stay Sweet Sparrow, to prate with you, For the morning hours are flitting awav, And I have my task to do.” “ And what may yonr work be, Lady Brook, That you cannot stop to-day? Babbling over the stones you go, And a noisy tongue you have, I trow, But what are your tasks, I pray? Nothing, I ween, but an idle song To sing as you wander by: Nothing, I ween, but to catch the gleam Os the sun in the deep blue sk}> — Nothing, but dimple, and flit with the bee, Or the yellow butterfly.” “ Friend Sparrow,” replied the little Brook, “ Mine are but humble tasks, Yet a willing step and a cheerful look, My great Employer asks, And gladly I fulfil them all, Simple although they be, And I sing, for the very joy of my heart, To the butterfly and the bee.” “ And what are these wondrous tasks, I pray ?” Quoth the Sparrow in disdain; And she laughed outright, while the little brook Made answer ret again: “ I bathe the foots of the willow trees, Beneath whose bows I pass, And the hazel bush, and the alders low, And freshen the meadows through which I flow, And strengthen the tender grass; The sweet wild flowers would droop and die, If not for my nursing care, And on my verge is the greenest mass That groweth anywhere. “ The birds alight at the morning’s prime, To plash in my cooling breast, And the weary oxen come down to drink, At the noonday hour of rest, And the lowing kine from the meadows come, And I give them a draft so clear, You may believe they loth to leave A fount of such dainty cheer. Simple, indoed, friend Sparrow, I know, Are the tasks that I fulfil, Yet methiuks the humblest work should be Performed with an earnest will; It giveth a feeling of such content, To do in all things our best, But now I must bid you a kind good day.” Then the rivulet hastened on its way, And the Sparrow, with nothing else to say, Flew back again to her nest. THE EVERGREEN. Love cannot be the olive tree, Whose bloom but once is seen ; Go search the grove—the tree of love la sure the evergreen; For that’s the same in leat and frame, ’Neath cold or sunny skies; You take the ground its roots have bound, Or it, transplanted, dies! That love thus shoots, and firmly roots In woman’s heart, we see; Through smiles and tears in after years It grows a fadeless tree. The tree of love, all trees above,- Forever may be seen, In summer’s bloom or w inter’s gloom, A hardy evergreen. Scmlljmt Wecklij Cifcrtmj ant)' lYUsctUancous 3ouvnal, far t\je Ijonw Circle. ffitxscdlamonz. DREAMING ON WEDDING CAKE. A certain bachelor editor who had received, from the fair hand of a lady, a piece of elegant wedding cake to dream on, thus gives the result of his experi ence : We put it under the head of our pil low shut our eyes sweetly as an infant, and blessed with an easy conscience, soon snored prodigiously. The God of our dreams gently touched us, and lo ! iu fancy, we were married. Never was a little editor so happy. It was “my love, dearest sweetest,” ringing in our ears constantly. Oh ! that the dream had broken oft' here. But no, some evil genius put it in the head of ducky to have pudding for dinner, just to please her lord. In a hungry dream we sat down to dinner. Well, the pudding moment ar rived, and a huge slice almost obscured from sight the plate before us. “My dear,” said we, fondly,"“didyou make this ?” “ Ye&, love, ain’t it nice ?” “Glorious—the best bread pudding I ever tasted in my life.” “ Plum pudding, ducky,” suggested my wife. “0, no dearest, bread pudding. I al ways was fond of ’em.” “ Cal! that bread pudding!” exclaim ed my wife, while her lips curled slightly with contempt. “ Certainly, my dear : reckon I’ve had enough at the Sherwood Ilouse, to know bread pudding my love, by all means.” “ Husband—this is really too bad— plum pudding is twice as hard to make as bread pudding, and is more expensive and is a great deal better. I say this is plum pudding, sir !” and my pretty wife’s brow flushed with excitement. “My love, my dear, my sweet love,” exclaimed we, soothingly, “do not get angry; I’m sure it’s very good if it is bread pudding.” “ You mean, low wretch,” fiercely re plied my wife in a higher tone, “you know its plum pudding.” “ Then, ma’am, it is so meanly put to gether, and so badly burned, that the devil himself couldn’t know it. I tell you, madanie, most distinctly and em phatically, and will not he contradicted, that it is bread pudding, and the meanest kind at that.” “Itis plum pudding,” shrieked my wife, as she hurled a glass of claret in my face, the glass itself tapping the claret from my nose. “ Bread pudding!” gasped we, pluck to the last, and grasping a roasted chick en by the left leg. “ Plum pudding !” rose above the din as we bad a distinct perception of feeling two plates smashed across our head. “ Bread pudding!” we groaned in a rage as the chicken left our hand, and flying with swift wings across the table, landed in madam’s bosom. “ Plum pudding,” resounded the war cry from the enemy, as the gravy dish took us where we had been depositing the first pait of our dinner, and a plate of beets landed upon our white vest. “ Bread pudding forever!’’ shouted we in defiance, dodging the soup tureen and falling beneath its contents. “Plum pudding,” yelled the amiable spouse, as noticing our misfortune, she de termined to keep us down by piling upon our head the dishes with no gentle hand. Then, in rapid succession followed the war-cry, “ Plum pudding !” she shrieked with every dish; “ Bread pudding !” iffsmotbered tones, came up from the pile in reply. Then it was “ plum pudding,” in rapid succession, the last cry growing untiljas we can distinctly recollect, it[had grown to a whisper.' “ Plum pudding” resounded like thunder, followed by a tremendous crash as our wife leaped up on the pile with her delicate feet, and commenced jumping up and down— MADISON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 185 G. when, thank Heaven, we awoke and thus saved our life. We shall never dream on wedding cake again—that’s the moral. A “Blower.” There is no denying that there is a class of individuals who seem to think that there is nothing in life so desirable as being intimately acquainted with prominent public characters. We have read of many such, but'Major Lucky, as described in the following is most de cidedly just “ a huckleberry above the persimmon” of any of them : Few men have ever gone to Congress with more fun and popularity than Hon. Leslie Coombs, of Kentucky. In the way of anecdote he is unequalled ; while his mode of telling stories imparts a tone to them that no one can appreciate who has not heard them. Among the “char acters” that Mr. Coombs knows like a book, is old Maj. Luckcy, whoso taste for braging amounts at times to the sub lime. Whenever the Major has a stran ger in the neighborhood, ho opens wide and “ spreads himself,” and with a suc cess that leaves 11s nothing to desire. The following scene took placo be tween the Major and Colonel Peters, a “late arrival” from Illinois: “ Major, I understood from Gen. Coombs that shortly after the revolution you visited England. How did you like the jaunt?” “ Capitally ; I had’ntbeon in London five hours before Rex sent for me to play whist, and a devil of a time we had of it!” “ Rex !—what Rex ?” “Why, Rex the King—George the Third. The game came off at Windsor Castle; Rex and I playing against Billy Pitt and Ned Burke and resulted rather comically.” “ How so ?” “ As we weie playing the last game Rex said, in rather a familiar manner: ‘Major, I suppose you are acquainted with Charley Washington, are you not?’ “ ‘No, sir-ee,’ said I ‘I am not—but I’ll tell you who I am acquainted with— George Washington, the Father of his Country.’ “ ‘Father bed d,’ says he ; ‘Be was a cursed rebel, and bad I served him right I would have hung him long ago.’ “ This, of course, riled me to that de gree, that I just drew back and gave him a blow between the eyes that felled him like a bullock. The next moment, Burke and Pitt mounted me, and in less than ten minutes my shirt and breeches were so torn and tattered, that I looked like Lazarus. This gave me rather a distaste for English society, so the next morning I set sail for America. Six weeks after I landed at Washington.— The first person I met after entering the city, was Q.” “Q ?—what Q ?” “ Why, that and and old Federalist, Quincy Adams. He wanted me to play nine pins with him, and I did so. Won S2OO at two shillings a game, and then had a row.” “ About what ?” “He wanted to pay me off in Conti nental money, worth a shilling a peck. I got angry, and knocked him into a spittoon. While I still had him down Jim came in and dragged me off to the White House. “ What Jim ?” “ Why, Jim Madison. I went, played euchre for two hours, when Tom came in and insisted that I should go home with him.” “ What Tom 3” “Why, Tom Jefferson. Jim, how ever would not listen to it, and the con sequence was that they went in to fight. In the midst of it they fell over the ban isters and dropped about fifty feet.— When I left they were giving each other h—l in the coal cellar. How it ter minated I never could lea n, as just then Martha ran in and said I must accompa ny her to Mount Vernon to see George.” “ What Martha do you mean ?” “ Martha Washington, wife to George Washington, the old boy that gave Jessy to the bloody Hessians,” About here Coombs 6aid the stranger began to discover that he was “ swallow ing things.” The next stage that came along he took passage for an adjacent town. The Major, we, believe, js still living and still believes that the ing he gave George Rex is “the est best thing on record.” ',; en ' _ Hers A Very Polite Judged Governor Ford of Illinois, tells a’ e rich anecdote of one of the early juu^ of that State, but the Governor does not put upon record the name of the sensi tive and considerate magistrate. At the court over which this judge presided, a man by the name of Green was convicted of murder, and the judge was obliged to pass sentence of death upon the culprit. Calling on the prison er to riso the judge said to him “ Mr. Green, the jury say you are guilty of murder, and the law says you are to be hung. I want you, and all your friends down on Indian Creek to know that it is not I who condemn you; it is the jury and the law. Mr. Green, at what time, sir, would you like to he hung; (lie law allows you time for prep aration ?” The prisoner replied, “ May it pleaso your honor, I am ready at any time; those who kill the body have no power to kill the soul. My preparation is made, and you can fix the time to suit yourself; it is all the same to me, sir.” “ Mr. Green,” returned the judge, “ it is a very serious matter to be hung ; it can’t happen to a man but once in bis life, unless the rope should break before bis nock is broke, and you had belter take all tbe time you can get.— Mr. Clerk, since it makes no difference to Mr. Green jvhen be is hung, just look into the almanac, and see whether this day four weeks comeson Sunday.” The clerk looked as ho was directed, :and reported that that day four weeks came on Thursday. “Then,” said the judge,“ Mr. Green, if you please you will bo bung Ibis day four weeks at twelve o’clock,” The attorney-general, James Turney, Esq., here interposed and said. “ May it please the court, on occasions of this sort, it is usual for courts to pro nounce a formal sentence, to remind the prisoner of his perilous condition, to re prove him for his guilt, and to warn him against the judgement in the world to come.” “Oh, Mr. Turney,” said the judge, “ Mr. Green understands the whole mat ter ; he knows ho has got to bo luing.— You understand it, Mr. Green don’t you ?” “ Certainly,” said the prisoner. “Mr. Sheriff, adjourn tbe court.” Four weeks from that day Mr Green was hung, but not so much to his own satisfiaclion as his appearance promised on the da\ T of his conviction. Tub Menagerie. —“Mr. Showman, what is that ?” “That, my dear, is the Rynocerow. Tie is cousing - crinan or Dutch relative to the Unicorn. He was born on the desert of Sary Ann, and fed on bamboo and missionaries. He is very courageous, and never leaves borne unless be moves, in which case he goes somewhere else unless he is overtaken by the dark. He was brought to this country much against his own will, which accounts for his low sp ; rits, when he’s melancholy or dejected. He is now somewhat aged, although he has seen the day when he was the youn gest specimen of animated nature in the world. Pass on, my dear, and allow the ladies to survey the wisdom of Providence, as displayed in the ring tailed monkey, a hanimal that can stand hangng like a feller critter, only it’s reversed.” Interesting to Lames. —A scientific hair dresser in London, has discovered a wonderful new pomade, which he guar antees, “ will prevent the bonnet falling off the head.” Going Ashore in an Iron Pot. Some seventy or eighty years ago, on board of a small brig belonging to the East India Company, among a number of impressed men, were a brace cf as un tamed wild sons of the “ Emerald Isle as iver ye saw,” both from the same town, o- and of course sworn friends. They were it, but n. mvd*.ette«^ r j i o] e crew, from thepecu memories tha, ll v(tp' 0 f t] le ; r intellects, and be were before the - jher could not or would not a tomb in it-yming-—literally, they were “It was rth their salt.” I were sinjr brig was short of hands, and put Tfl&ftf small bay cn the coast of Africa. Being anchored off some distance from the shore, the officers and crew went ashore to collect wood and water, leaving our two heroes to watch on the upper deck, with orders to fire one of the guns in case of an attack by the natives. The captain no sooner landed than Pat sung out to his comrade : “ Arrah, Tim, acushla an’ did ye niver see them big cannon balls below ? Be jabers, an’ would’nt it bo fun if we could fire off one of’em ? What a devil of a racket it would be after makin’!’’ “ Bedad, but so it would. But., Pat, would’nt tiro captain be missing it?” This was a regular clincher to Pat, iind ho stood scratching tho wiry furze that covered his bullet-shaped head for some time. All of a sudden a thought seemed to strike him of a way to sur mount tho difficulty. On board of all vessels is a large iron pot or kettle for melting of tar. A plan was very shortly adopted which would obviate the loss of a ball. It was this : One of them was to place himself astraddle of the gun, holding the pot over the muzzle by the handles, and catch the ball as it issued from tho gun ; and as Tim was consider ed the stoutest of tho two, the dutv of holding the pot was assigned to him. After scan j trouble they managed to get the gun loaded. Tim mounted, holding the pot. Just as Pat was about to touch off tho cannon, Tim turned round to him, and sung out: “ Arrah, Pat, darlint, be after firing very ai\v, w ill ye ?” Pat applied tho match, and oft’ went Tim, pot and all, “into tho middle of next week. - ’ The captain hearing the report, and thinking it announced some attack, came on board in great haste. The first thing that greeted his eyes upon stepping cn deck was Pat, his face all liegrirnrned with sinoke and dirt. “ Well, Pat,” said he, “ what’s the matter with you ? Where’s Tim 2” “Tim, sir—an’ sure, didn’t re see him on shore j” “ No. How tho deni could he get there ? The boats are all here.” “ Och! by my sowl, sir, he went ashore in tho iron pot, sure !” Keep up with the Fashion. “ Ma, can Igo and hear the negro serenaders to night ?” “No, my dear, I cannot think of let ting you go to such performances.” “ Why, everybody goes to hear them, they sing such comic songs, and tell all sorts of funny stories, you can’t help laughing all tho time. I do wish you would let me go.” “ You must not urge me, Charley, for I cannot ihrow away money on fellows who go about disguised as negros, sing ing silly songs that have no good tenden cy, and telling silly stories that are not calculated to improve the mind, but rather to do no hurt. And more than that, I do not believe that any of the better class of society visit the concerts.” “ Indeed, ma, then you are grandly mistaken, for I heard Judge Brown’s boys say that they were there with their father and sisters, and I saw Mr. Jones, my Sabbath school teacher, go in last evening; and I was in the store to-day where they sell tickets, and the minister of the Brook street Church came in and purchased three or four to take his fam ily.” “ Are you sure about what you tell me. Charley.” “ Yes, Ma ; and Mr. Smith remarked when he sold the tickets that tbe con certs were attended by very fashionable audiences.” “Well, that alters the case some; you may go, and tell your sister Angeli ca to dress for the concert; and I will accompany you ; I believe there is noth ing but a prayer meeting at our church to-night. We must keep up with the fashi on.’ . An Impatient Juryman. An Arkansas correspondent of the New Orleans Picayune gives the following au thentic anecdote: You are all fond of cracking jokes at the expense of Arkansas; now here is one of your State, absolutely true. I got it from an eye witness : The district court in one of your northern parishes was in session—’twas tlio first day of the court; time, after dinner. Lawyers and others had dined, and were sitting out before the hotel and a long, lank unsophisticated coun tryman came up and vncereniomouslj made himself one of ’em, and remarked : ‘‘ Gentlemen, I wish you would go on with this court, for i want to go home— I left Betsy a looking out.” “ Ah!” said one of the lawyers, “ and pray, sir, what detains you at court?” “Why, sir,” said the countryman,“l’m fotehcdjhore as a jury, and they say if I go home they will have to find me, and they mout n’t do that as I live a good piece.” “What jury are you on?” asked a law yer. “ What jury?” “Yes, what jury. Grand or traverse ju ry ? “Grand or travis jury ? dad-fetched if I know.” “Well,” said thejawycr, “did the judge charge you?” “Well, squire,” said he, “the little fellow that sits up in the pulpit and kinder bos ses it over the crowd, gin us a talk, but I don’t know whether he charged any thing or not.” Tho crowd broke upin a roar of laugh ter, and the sheriff called court. Books aro wonderful devices. From my seat in my library, I call to Cicero, and he repeats for me without faltering or stopping to rest, his most splendid paragraphs. I speak to Demosthenes, and the mighty Athenean once more launches for me those thunderbolts which “ fulminated over Greece.” I utter the name of John Milton, and the blind min strel strikes for me again that harp whose notes have echoed for two hundred years. The wit of Plautus, the humor of Addison, and the table talk of Sidney Smith, are ail mine, through tbe magic of types Through the ever-recurring mir acle of printed leaves, the dead rise again; their shadowy forms take shape once more; and the glorious past, of which they speak to me, lives with a brightness which reveals the glory that clad the world on creation’s morn. I will be grateful for books! Among wonder workers, they are the mightiest and qui etest I know ! Children may come to Jesus. —The church of which Dr. S. H. Cox was pastor a long time, in Brooklyn, had a rule at one time, prohibiting children un der fourteen years of age from becoming members of the church. At this time a very intelligent girl asked for admit tance. The session did not wish to tell her that they could not receive her.— They made excuses an J put her off from time to time, until at last the doctor was obliged to tell hex she could not be re ceived. Slie was familiarly acquainted with Dr Cox, and for a moment she laid her head on his shoulder and wept — then lifted her eyes pathetically to his and said, “ Dr. Cox, Jesus Christ would not treat me so; he says ‘Suffer little children to come unto me.”’ The Doctor said, “ Away with all church rules that con flict with Christ’s words!” NUMBER 46. The Throne of Solomon. The following account, says an ex change, of a remarkable piece of mechan ism, is taken from a Persian manuscript called “The History of Jerusalem.” It purports to be a description of the throne of King Solomon, and if the details are correctly given, it undoubtedly surpasses any pieco of mechanism produced, in modern times. The -sides of it were pure gold, the feet of emeraldsand rubies, intermixed with pearls, each of which was as large as an ostrich’s egg. The throne had seven steps —on each side were delineated orchards full of trees, the branches of which were of precious stone's, representing fruit, ripe and un ripe; on the tops of the trees were to bo seen figures of plume birds, particularly the peacock, the staub, and the kurges. All these birds were hollowed within artificially, so as to occasionally utter a thousand melodious sounds, such as the ears of mortals never heard. On the first was delineated vine branches having bunches of grapes, composed of various sorts of precious stones, fashioned in such a manner as to representlhe various colors of purple, violet, green and red, so as to render the appearance of real fruit. On the second step on each side of the throne were two lions of terrible aspect large as life, and formed of cast gold.— The nature of this remarkable throne was such that when Solomon placed his foot on the first step, the birds Bpread forth their wings, and made a fluttering noise in the air. On his touching the second step, the lions expanded their huge claws. On his reaching the third step the whole assemblage of demons and fairies and men repeated the praise of the Deity. When he arrived at the fourth step, voices were heard address ing him in the following manner: “Son of David, be thankful for the blessings which the Almighty has bestowed upon you.” The same was repeated on reach-., ing the fifth step. On his touching the sixth, all the children of Israel joined them ; and on Iris arrival at the seventh, all the birds and animals became in motion, and ceased not until he had placed himselfin the royal seat, "•hen the birds, lions, and other hy secret springs, shower of the most precious perfumes on Solomon after which two of the kurges descended and placed a golden crown upon his head. Before the throne was a column of bur nished gold, on the top of which was a gol den dove, which held in its peak a volume bound in silver. In this book were writ ten the Psalms of David, and the dove having presented the book to the king, he read aloud a portion of it to the chil dren of Israel. It is further related that on tire approach of a wicked person to the throne, the lions were wont to set up a terriblo roaring, and to lash their tails with violence. The birds also began to bristle up their feathers, and the assembly also of demons and genii, to utter liorrid cries; for fear of them '"no one dared be guilty of falsehood, but all confessed their crimes. Such was the throne of Solomon, the son of David. j£3T General Wolfe overhearing a young officer say in a very familiar man ner, “ Wolfe and I drank a bottle of wine together,” replied, “ I think yon might say General Wolfe.” “ No,” replied the subaltern, with happy presence of mind, “ did you ever hear of General Achilles, or General Caesar ?” jfciT Mistrust the man who findsevery ihing good, the man who finds everything evil, and still more the mau who is in different to everything.— Lavatcr. JEST Don’t hesitate; do something; go ahead ; anything is better than stupid inactivity. Professor Hedrick. —The board of Trustees of North Carolina College have expelled Professor Hedrick from his Pio fessovship, for giving utterance to freesoil sentiments. Hon Victor Monroe, U. S. Judge of Washington Territory, died on the loth