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VOLUME X. Select poetnj. I HAVE NO FATHER/THERE. I saw a wide and well-spread board; And children young and fair Came one by one—the eldest first, And took their stations there. All neatly clad and beautiful, And with familiar tread; They gathered round with joy to feast On meats and snow-white bread. Beside the board, the father sat, A smile his features wore; As on the little group he gazed, And told their portions o’er. A meager form arrayed in rags, A near the threshold stood; A half-starred child had wandered there To beg a little food. Said one, “ Why standest here, my dear? See there’s a vacant scat, Amid the children, and enough, For them and thee to eat.” “Alas forme!” the child replied, In tones of deep despair, “ No right have I amid yon group, I have no father there.” O hour of fate, when from the skies, With notes of deepest dread, The far-rcsounding trump of God Shall summon forth the dead— What countless hosts shall stand without The heavenly threshold fair, And gazing on the blest, exclaim “ I have no father there !” MAIDEN RESOLUTIONS. Oh ! I’ll tell you of a fellow, Os a fellow I have seen, Who is neither white nor yellow, But is altogether Green ! Then his name it isn’t charming, For it’s only common “ Bill And he wishes me to wed him, But 1 hardly think I will! He has told me of a cottage, Os a cottage ’mong the trees, And don’t you think the gawkey Tumbled down upon his knees! While the tears the creature wasted Were enough to turn a mill; And he begged me to accept him, But I hardly think I will! Oh, he whispered of devotion, Os devotion pure and deep, But it seemed so very silly That I nearly fell asleep! And he thinks it would be pleasant, As we journey down the hill, To go hand in hand together, But I hardly think I will! He was here last night to sec me, And he made so long a stay I began to think the Never meant to go awav. At first I learned to hate him, And I know I hate him still; Yet he urges me to have him, But I hardly think I will! I am sure I wouldn’t choose him, But the very deuce is in it; For he says if I refuse him, That he could not live a minute; And you know the blessed Bible Plainly sys, we “ musn’t kill.” So I’ve thought the matter over, And I rather think I will! BEAUTIFUL GATE OF SLEEP. BY MISS KIMBALL. The Beautiful Gate of Sleep is barred ! Oh Angel within!— The panels of pearl with diamonds starred, Give back no sound to my feeble knock; I have no key that will turn the lock! How long must I wait? Oh evermore and forever more Must I stand at the Beautiful Gatel My garments are thin—my sandals worn ! Sweet Angel within ! How piercing the blast—how sharp the thorn! The night is cheerless! the wind is wild! My bruised heart sobs like a pitiful child! How long must I wait? Oh evermore and forevermore Must I stand at the Beautiful Gate? If I were a Queen I’d give my crown ; Oh Angel within!— Or famed, I would lay my laurels down; Or rich, I’d yield thee my treasured gold, For thy sweet shelter from rain and cold! How long must I wait? Oh eveimore and forevermore Would I pass through the Beautiful Gate! EPIGRAM. From the dawn of creation the name of old Gain Has been cursed as the author of skiying; I!ut glory awaits in our age on the Kane Who slays not, though famous for sleighing, So fill up the cup to the Kane of the Pole, Whose marvelous tale, though no fable, Attests that for generous deeds of renown, Our Kane in reality ’-a Able (Abel.) Woman, spare that tea! Touch not a single cup! In youth it tempted thee, But now, O give it up! I know thy mother’s hand First put it to thy lip; But, woman, let it stand, Unless it be catnip! SI Stmtljfnt UUfltli) Cilcrart) antJ fttmcfllatutms Sauvnal, for tljc Ijome Circlt. Gl Capital Slulcl), POWER OF ARGUMENT, OX A DUTCH BAKER. BY HENRY P. LELAND. Mr. Gay sat down to the breakfast table with Mrs. Gay as vis a vis. “ My. dear,” said Mr. Gay, with a gentle smile, in a pleasant tone of voice, 1 how long since you became a honie oepatbist ?” “My dear,” answered Mrs. Gay, with a duplicate smile, and an exquisite second fiddle accompaniment of voice, “ I am not a ho-nioe op-a-thist. What makes you ask such an odd question ?” “ The appearance of those diminutive bread pills on that plate,” and Mr. Gay indicated with a severe wink the plate he alluded to. Mrs. Gay was an artless woman ; that is to say, she had art enough, she only wanted a little less. “I do not see I hem,’ she replied, looking over the coffee urn. llereupou Mr. Gay trium phantly raised the plate containing half a-dozen baker’s rolls, exclaiming: “ Now, my dear, look sharp ! They are very small, hut you can see them if you will only try.” “Oh ! yes, dear. I see the rolls, hut I thought you asked me to look at bread pills.” Artless Mrs. Gay! f see the germ of any amount of “spats” in this “ artlessncss.” “ When flour is only eight dollars a barrel ” “Seven dollars and seventy-five cents, my dear,” interrupted Mrs. Gay. “ llow do you make that out my love ?’’ “Twenty-five cents for the empty barrel—if the head is whole I” “ 'Foil my honor, my dear, you are an ornament to your sex ! Where did you learn such domestic economy ? Here we’ve been married nearly a year, and I never suspected such a thing before.” “ Necessity, dear Bill, and the high price of llonilon lace and whalebone, have taught me several severe lessons.” 11 Dear Bill/" —if she had only made this last word in the plural number, and not used a capital letter to commence it with, she would have hit it exactly. “ Well, to return to these rolls, you must tell the waiter, to tell the cook, to tell the baker's hoy to tell the baker> that unless he increases his rolls, we shall decrease cur roles as customers.” “ I am afraid that pretty speech would be lost on Mr. Stieffelblitz, hut I will see that he is told to send larger loaves and rolls.” And thus the subject was dis missed for that day. The course of breakfasts, like true love seldom runs smooth, and it is not therefore astonishing that a few days afterwards Mr. Gay,com ing down to breakfast, again found small rolls on the table. “ More bread-pills my dear ! I tho’t old Snigglefitz ” “ Stieffelblitz, my love,” interrupted Mrs. Gay, who knew “ Dutch” up to the handle. “Old Stingyfits, then, intended to mend his ways, enlarge his rolls, recon struct his twists, and all that and so on.” “ Yes, my dear, I called in person at the baker’s the other morning in the car riage, after attending Mary Teafite’s wedding reception ; had Mr. Stieffelblitz come out to the carriage; it was quite an undertaking for him, he weighs twice as much as you do ” “So he ought to, with flour at eight dollars and he selling it at ” “ —and when he came out, I spoke to him in German •” “We gaits, my sehoeny Dytcber I” interrupted Mr. Gay, quizzically. “I spoke to him gramatieally and correctly, my dear; and the good fat man was so delighted that he promised we should have no further cause for com plaint, and until this morning, you must acknowledge there was an improvement in the size of the rolls.” “ Why, Kitty, my dear, you have cn ergy —I like that I What a blessed man I am! every day I find out some new MADISON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1856. and adorable quality in you. As I used to say a year ago, when I was young and wild and dissipated—you are a brick 1 Pour me out another cup of cof fee, ‘swy glass lager 1’ and I’ll give you a kiss before I go down town. I’ll call on Stealoffbits myself; it’s on my way, and reason with him. Tell him the papers are beginning to grumble ” “ You can’t frighten him that way. He’s used to it; it’s a habit of the papers to have periodical spasms about small loaves; nothing ever comes of it. You say you are going to reason with him 1 Why, my dear, the few German words I spoke to him the other day were better reason with him than all the logic you could find in Whately—that dry old book we used to study at school.” “ Excellent 1” said Mr. Gay, “ I too, will go and talk German with him 1” “ O Bill 1” and here Kitty gave herself up to a long and hearty laugh. “You an’t in earnest ?” “ I’m going to talk Dutch with this old Stiflashricks, sure as you’re horn! I’m going to talk his rolls into twice, yes, thrice their present size. You see if I won’t 1” “ How absurdly you talk, Bill 1 You don’t know two dozen words of German. llow can you expect to argue with that amount of capital, as father used to say I’’ “ It isn’t the number of words you use in argument, hut the powerful reasons that win the victory. That same Whately, that dry old book, would have taught you that. Now, I distinctly as sert that the power of argument I intend using with old Squizzlewig, will blow these rolls into rolls—twice as large as they are now.” “ I’ll bet you 1” said Kitty. Those were her very words. Remember, read er, that Mrs. Gay was only in her twentieth year, had no family ; a very lively, jolly, good-natured husband; moreover, that this conversation ftas “at home,” where young married people act and talk as they please ! “ I’ll bet you our trip to Saratoga you don’t 1 And if you do, why we’ll go and spend the summer with father, up in tlie country.” “ Done,” said Mr. Gay I take that bet ami hook it. And now, I’m off for Sfizzlejig and large rolls, down town and business. But I think I told you I would give you something before 1 start ed.” And suiting his conduct to his speech (new reading!) Mr. Gay, ap proaching Mrs. Gay, bestowed a smack sounding like the warning crack of the postilion’s whip, as he dashes into the busy streets of a bustling town, “ The idea of my arguing with a Dutchman 1” thought Mr. Gay. “ Well, if that is’nt excessively rich, I lose my guess, that’s all. I might as well try to put up a rail-fence by argument as move that man by any reasoning I can make use of ; but let’s see here we are. Nice clean littlfe house; front-door open ; glass window in the wall at the side of the entry. Loaves and tallies in sight. GERMAN STIEFFELBLITZ, BAKER. “That’s the sign. And there’s the old Dutchman in person. How can he ever get out of that house through any common-sized door ? He’s a second rate Daniel Lambert.” At this point ot i Mr. Gay’s meditations, Herr Stiffelblitz’s voice came rolling out of the window, deep, full, sonorous, clear ; he was speak ing to someone in the back part of the house. “ What a voice fora fish-woman! I think I hear him singing for her; ‘ Bass 01” After this, Mr. Gay entered the baker’s shop. “ Good morning, Mr. Stieffelblitz.— You supply Mr. Gay’s family in Dash street, with bread ” “Ah 1 yaw, s’bly Mis’r Kay mit brate.” “ The rolls are very small.” “ Och 1 nott so varree sclimol: te vlotir pin varree ’igh.” “ Yes, but it’s cheaper now, much cheaper ; and I want you to make them larger. My wife—Mrs. Gay ” “ Herr Gott, ter Missus Kay pin your wife 2 So! dote she is schr schoen, varree fine letty. Ach Himmel, bote she spakes ter charinan so , • •' .1' :i: i his Black-1 Hitch. I: nreiM !„• ni: act Mr. f"i ;!,t jcy an.| c’.-ii-ht extruded peis and up to the crown of He laughed all over, so heartily, so gen erously, that two little chimney-sweepers passing along the street—under charge of a decayed ‘ cullud gemman,’ far gone in green spectacles and a long wand with a gold head, or at least a brass door-knob highly polished—also caught the laugh, and kept it up till out of sound, as well as sight. “Good!” added Mr. Gay, “ and now that we are all Dutch together, I want to tell you somethings,” (the idiom was affecting him!) “Youmakothe rolls all so good, one size quite large! Kreutz don nerwetter! Then you put them in the oven, good! Aber Hair Yasoos! the draft is so strong that a great deal of flour in them flies up chimney, and when you take them out of the oven they are so small!’’ pointing to several diminutive rolls lying on the counter. Herr Stieffelblitz appeared in a dark brown study; lie carefully watched Mr. Gay's face; lie could see no trace of any joking there, only a steady, satisfac tory, trusting belief in the theory ad vanced. “Ter Herr Kay is rite; der am too crate traft to dem cbimmalees.” “Now listen, Hair Stieffelblitz. I want you to have a fine sieve put up so that the Hour won’t go up chimney any more. I want you to have your rolls just twice as large as they are now, and if next July when you send in your hill, you really find you have not saved anything by keeping the flour from being drawn up ! why, add twenty-five per cent, to the amount of my hill, and I will willing ly pay it rather than see you suffer un justly, by having people suppose the flour did not go up chimney !” The ITerr (maun !) Stieffelblitz here saw the intense fun of the thing—at least, a part of it; the rest lie studied out in the course of a week, and an explosion of laughter followed, threatening all the panes of glass in the neighborhood. A week after this, in one of the papers, there was a shocking article on a slight earthquake, felt in a certain portion of the city. On tracing up this rumor it was found to have come from the neighbors of Mr. Stieffelblitz. For the especial benefit of gentlemen having accounts current with weather, shocks, and so on, we must correct this rumor. It was not an earthquake hut a Dutch quake that took place. Ilerr Stieffel hlitz, waking up at mid-night a week after his interview with Mr. Gay, suddenly saw the full force of this gentleman’s argument, and bursting into a roar of laughter,“shook the adjacent earth with the intenseness of his mirth.” In justice to somebody, let us conclude by saying that the rolls were doubld ine size after this talk, at least those that Mr. Gay received, and no additioi al twenty five per cent, was made in his July hill. Mrs. Gay lost her bet, and has had the greatest curiosity to this day to find out “ how Bill, who only knows two dozen words of German, could do so much with them!” Mr. Gay has repeatedly assured her that he found them “ amply sufficient,” assisted as they were by a powerful argument!”— Knickerbocker. JFtT Girls beware of the man who bows and smiles, and says so many soft things to you : lie has no genuine love; while he who loves you most sincerely, struggles to hide the weakness of his heart, and frequently appears decidedly awkward. SBT Speaking of family discipline Old Roger remarked that Mr. Peppercase, his neighbor, reminded him of a game of hall; lie was eternally batting them, and they were always bawling. Ik Marvel and Old “Corinth.” The ed'tor of the Knickerbocker at following to Ik Marvel, and worthy of him : as we were walking IllM* along, the music ot" tho choirs churches came floating out iis,and the times were and strange but one. And that Wse—it was not sung as we have heard it, but it awakened a train of long buried memories that rose up to us even as they were before the cemetery of the soul had a tomb in it. “It was sweet old “ Corinth” they were singing—strains we have seldom heard since tho rose color was blanched ; and we were in a moment back again to the old village church, and it was a sun ny afternoon and the yellow sunbeams were streaming through tho west win dows, and the silver hair of the old deacon who sat in tho pulpit was turned to gold in its light; and the minister who we used to think could never die, so good was lie, had concluded “ application and exhortation,” and the village choir were singing the last hymn and tho tune was —Corinth. “ It is years—we dare not think how many—since then, and 1 the prayers of David tho son of Jesse are ended,’ and the choir are scattered and gone. The gill with blue eyes that sang alto and the gill with black eyes that sang air— the eyes of the one were like clear June heaven at night, and those of the other like tho same heaven at noon. Thev both became wives and mothers, and they both died. Who shall say they are not singing 1 Corinth’ still, where Sabbaths never wane, and congregations never break up ? There they sat, Sab bath after Sabbath, by the square column at the right of the ‘leader,’ and to our young eyes, they were passing beautiful and to our young ears the tones were the very soul of music. That column hears still their penciled names as they wrote them in those days in life’s June, 183—, before dreams of change lmd over come their spirits like a summer’s cloud. “ Alas ! that with the old singers most of the sweet old tunes have died upon tho air; but theyjinger in memorv, and they shall yet he sung again iu the sweet re union of song that shall take place by and by in a hall whoso columns are beams of morning light, whose ceiling is pure pearl, whose floors are all gold, and where they never grow old. Then she that sang alto and she that sang air will be in their places once more.” How Jim Wicker’s Head got Bald. Jim Wicker was a comical looking fellow, with a very young face, hut by reason of having no hair, he looked very old from his eyebrows all the way round to the hack of his neck. He was very sensitive about the defect, and was some what celebrated from the fight ho had with a travelling agriculturalist, who, upon being asked by Jim what would cause the hair to grow on his shining poll, was advised to cover the top of his head with guano and plant it down in crab grass. But Jim wouldn’t quarrel with Ctipt. Wild, for that gentleman was not only tho host of the Fairy Queen, hut also had the key of all the “ refresh ments” in his possession ; so without hesitation lie enlightened his auditory after this fashion : “ You see the liar always did seem rayther scarce ’bout my scalp, and I was always rubbing on one thing and another to fotch it out, for I was sartin the roots wasn’t dead, though thar was little to be seen above the ground. I’d heard of bar’s grease, and bought a gallon in bot tles, hut I believe it was nothing hut hog’s lard and mutton tallow; so I tho’t I would have the genuine article, and I got old Dan to go out and kill something for iny especial benefit. Dan told mo that it was in tho Spring, and that the bar was in had health and out of season ; but I believe he was trying to quiz me, and wouldn’t no for an ansivetj A short hunt fotched a critter at bay, and Dan, by a shot in the vitals, ‘saved the varmint;’ but the bar was in bad con dition, for he looked as seedy as an old Canadat liistle, and he had hardly ilo enough in him to keep his joints from squeaking, but what he did have I got an used, and strangers,” said Jim, looking sorrowfully round on the company, “ in two days what little hai r I had com menced dropping off, and in a week I was as bald as a gun barrel. Dan was right; the varment was shedding him self, and he had nothing in Itim hut hair shedding ilo. The consequence is, I can’t in the dark tell my head from a dried gourd, if I depend on feeling.” The Troublesome Neighbor. A few years ago, a poor mechanic of a very quarrelsome disposition settled nearn Christian farmer, whose friends expressed to him their sympathy in the annoyance he was very likely to receive. ‘ Never mind,’ said the good man, ‘ I never yet had a quarrel with a neighbor and I am to old to begin now.’ Some six months passed, and then be gan a series of petty anoyances, which the farmer bore uncomplainingly ; hut this only irritated his neighbor the more, until meeting the farmer one day in the height of passion, he poured upon him a torrent of abuse and insult. ‘Friend,’said the farmer gently, ‘no man under the influence of passion can reason clearly ; come to me calmly, and wo will discuss your grievances.’ The angry man raised his clenched hand to strike him, hut was restrained by some unseen influence, and both went on their About a week after, the mechanic was passing the farmer's house with a load of grain. It was at the foot of a hill, and the load was heavy, he coaxed, threaten ed, and beat his oxen, but all to no pur pose. lie must leave his load or ask aid of the man ho had injured. Presently he saw the farmer unhitch his oxen from a load of hay and came towards him.— With kindly words the farmer proffered his assistance, drew him to the summit, and without waiting for thftnks, depar ted as he came. Here was a simple act hut mighty in its influence The me chanic was humbled, acknowledged the purity and power of that religion that could ‘ bear and forbear,’ and has since that time never willingly provoked his friend. Oldest Negro Yet. We have at last got hold of a particu larly old negro. There have been count less cases of tolerably advanced blacks, but the case below, which we copy from an exchange, is said to be perfectly au thentic, and finishes the last. She ought to be shown around : Some time ago I sent you an account of an old negro man, who died in Charles ton at the advanced age of 113 years. Since then I have seen a statement of a negro woman, who died in Fauquier county, Va., aged 140. A friend, who was formerly an officer in the United States Army, relates that when hewassta. tioned at Pas Christian, in Lcusiana.he was in the habit, with his brother officers, of visiting an aged negress who sold butter milk. On one occasion the following conversation took place: “Old woman how old are you?" “I dunno, Massa." “ llow long have you lived about here f" - ..... “0, long time, long time, massa.”— She then went on to relate circumstan ces in connection with the historv of the country, which proved that she must have arrived at an advanced age. “ Well, can’t you refer to any circum stance by which you may come at your age ?” “ We’ll, massa, Fse had nineteen chil dren, and that gal, (pointing to an old woman,) is the youngest, and I know she’s ninety.” The old woman was quite active when our informant saw her last, and attended to the sale of her buttermilk herself in preference to calling upon her “gal,” whom she represented to be “good for nothing.” NUMBER 47. The Fraud upon the Railroad du Nord. Charpentier, the principal in this im mense breach of trust, conducted the af fair with a coolness, a method, a surety of execution which denotes a great apti tude for financial transactions. Ho is but twentv-five years of age, and was a man of high life—what we would call a fast man. It is remarkable how this fact could have escaped M. Rothschild’s atten tion. On one occasion, in company with one of the directors of I he company, Char pentier let fall a hundred franc hill. His companion made a motion to pick it up, when Charpentier, with his fine patent leathers, kicked it into the fire, with the exclamation, “How ! mon cher, do you stoop to pick up such rags as that ?” lie had a residence in town, another in the country <fco., and all withoutother osten sible resource than his seven thousand francs annual salary. His predecessor, who enjoyed a salary of ten thousand francs, having died, the administration of the company said to themselves, “ Hero is a chance to make three thousand francs; let us make young Charpentier cashier:” which was done. Charpentier was about to marry a young girl at Rouen, daughter of a mer chant of that place. Two weeks ago ho asked and obtained permission to go and see his intended, to arrange preliminaries “for the happiest day of his life,” <fce., and be departed. B.it the father of Charpentier, an hon est and assiduous ulerk in the banking house of M. Ruth-child, received a letter a few mornings afterward from the father of the young lady in question, who was growing tired of the delay, and demanded that the delinquent should be “forwarded by return of post.” Whereupon M. Charpentier hastened to the Northern railroad office to make inquiries about bis lost son. “ Your son,” they replied, “ has been at Rouen more than forty-eight hours.” “ No, he is not there.” “ Yes.” “ No.” “ Let someone call Grele.” [Grele is the assistant cashier.] He appears and is interrogated— “ Do you know where Charpentier is ?” “At Ronen,” responded Monsieur Grele, with the most honest air possible. “They say that he lias not been seen there.” “Ah! that is even possible; he had a desire to pass by Trouville. He is just the kind of f;llow that would like to. amuse himself two or three days on the road.” “ That's a pity,” replied one of the di rectors, far from conceiving the least sus picion : “ the direction has precisely need of his presence for an urgent affair.with the intention of giving him leave of ab sence later on. Suppose you go after him at Trouville.” ‘ Me, Monsieur! And my cash box?” “No matter for that. To-morrow is Sunday ; you have thirty-six before you, which is more th*<« you need to find yourself at yo'« post Monday morning.” “ Biw ” “ Come, my dear Grele, it is a service the directors beg of you.” “I will go, Monsieur, I will go. Will you receive my cash-box before I start?” “ Certainly.” And the director called an employe, whom he charged to accomplish that for mality. Grele opens his box, displays to the dazzled eye of the deputy an array of twelve hundred thousand francs in gold, silver,and bills, hands over the keys, and takes sudden leave for Calais, where his friend and accomplice,Charpentier, awaits him with the proceeds of the 5,748 shares subtracted from the safes and sold under the nose ot the employes whom the com pany pay forty francs a day to watch over its interests. At Liverpool, where the two hastened, a third accomplice had already secured their passage on a steamer to New York, and, in company with a trio of ladies, the par y set sail for America.