The Southern watchman. (Athens, Ga.) 1854-1882, March 06, 1861, Image 1

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JOHN II. CHRISTY.^ and Proprietor. } lCditor Volume "VIT. the southern watchman. |W ; | | l( Lar^rst ami fttaptst Papers in the Statt! 1! TERMS. nNLY TWO DOLLARS A* YEAR, ^ li »'./ in adatmef otiemiee, Three IJollurt. V | :i]"-T "ill l>e discontiimofi (except at the option „i Hie editor) until oil arrearages are paid. ADVERTISING, i li-eim-nt* inserted at the usual rates. ;, i,t advertisements, when not marked, will he iiU furhhl, at One Dollar Jier square of 9 lines ...... ;,ii,l Fifty Cents per square for each subsc- l: y.rT , lil.end deduction to yearly advertisers. Vmioiiiireinenta of candidates ?.i. in advance. Obiiusry ictioes exceeding six lines in length .: -irgcd as advertisement'. Sasiiicss ;wt) professional Carbs. A A. FRANKLIN HILL, Attor- Office over the Novi \KV AT LAW, Athens, Uu. ,i. N. White. M. WYNG & CO., Dealers in hardware, crockery, china and \e-:. I’.rcid Street, Athens. (la. tf i TURNS steam COMPANY.- V. 1!. Nit KKUSON. Agent and Superintendent.— hi'.h turers of Circular Saw Mills, Steam Eu Forcing and Lifting 1*1 .MI'S, Shafttno and , ;;v ; Mil.!., Gin anil ail other kinds of GEAR- 1 Ikon and Brass Castings, of every description. .i.lilIINti, Repairing and Finishing promptly exo- ‘ ’,,.,1. Select patterns of Iron Fencing. Terms, deleft ®ale. tin LOMBARD, Dentist, Athens. iiims in Brick building North of the Poat Of- c A von no. tf From Pcterion'B Magazine. THE FACTORY GIRL. CHAPTER I. There was no other alternative. The old homestead must be sacrificed, or Annette Burns must leave its sacred roof, and go out among strangers to earn, by the toil of her hands, little by little, tho sum that was requisite for its redemption. Her face was very pale as she spoke of this to her parents, hut its expression was firm and patient beneath that unusual pal lor. It was a new experience with them all— this stern grapple with poverty. Mr. Burns, though originally well oft', had an easy dis position, and could never say “ no” to tho friend who asked him for pecuniary aid.— Ho had endorsed for the accommodation oftwo trusted friends,and thosesamefriends iiad put their property out of their hands and very conveniently “failed.”- Mr. Burns’ ontire possessions would hardly satisfy tho claims of tho creditors; and now in his old age—a confirmed invalid—with his wife and two eliil Iren, lie found himself almost penniless. El instead—the family residence—with '■ its dozen acres of fine land, was mortgag ed to liquidate the last claim; and if the i W.& H. R- *L LONG, Wholesale , ,,„1 Retail DRUGGISTS, Athens, Ga. D R. W M. K I N G, Homoeopathic PHYSICIAN, offers bis professional services to of Athens anti vicinity. Reshlehec, at Mrs. i ivto.i'. Office, corner of Clayton ami Thoina*s Sts. Miiv b'. 1*60. ly ]) G. CANDLER. Attorney at Law, ► having located permanently at Homer, Bagkr . (.a., will practice in the counties of Banks, Jack- all. Habersham and Franklin. Occupying « cen- i.jitou in said county, all buhinoa*entrusted to his ill receive i mined into attention. All communica- hnuld be addressed to Homer, Banks eo. ap5tf ■p W. LUCAS, Wholesale and Re- i • tail Dealers in DRV (JOoDfc 3 , GROCERIES, ilAUlHVAHK, Ac.. No. 2, Broad Street, Athens. p L. McCLESKEY, M.D., having IT• permanently located in Athens, will eontin the pra' tiec of Modieino and Surgery. Residence, that recently oeenpiod hy Mr. Chase—Office, at home, where Uasv'hc found. *£_ A. LOW RANGE, Surgeon Den- i TI ST, A thens, G a. Office on CollegeA venue, „ Jewelry store of Messrs. Tnlmadge A Winn. II If GLLLELAND, Dentist, Wat- 1 1 • kiusvillo, Ha., respectfully solicits the patron- »*♦ « f the surrounding country. Full satisfaction will l>e riven in his profession. I M. KENNEY, (next door to the A # Rank of Athens.) constantly k«fps on hand STA- l'lj; ami FANCY DRY GOODS', and Choice Family ■ . cheap for cash, or to prompt customers. M. MATTHEWS, Attorney at r.AW,~]),iuiHlarni., May 1. 101 IN II. CHRISTY, Plain and »/ Fancy BOOK AND JOB PRINTER, Broad St., Aih.c'is, Ha. Office comer Broad and Wall streets, over li.t . ;..rc t»f Sausom A Buiard. . tf TAMES A. CARLTON, Dealer in t ' Silk, Fancy and Staple DRY GOODS, Hardware a: 1 Crockery, No. 3, Granite Row, Athens. I W. H ANCOCK, Attorney at tj • L\W, Danielsville, Ga., will practice in Jack- • , Clarke, Madison, Hart. Oglethorpe'anii Libert. 1 W. REAVES & CO., Wholesale tf • and Retail Dealers in GROCERIES, DRY <.« <»DS, CROCKERY, HARDWARE, Ac. No. 15, under Krai.kli.i House, Broad street, Athens, Ga. tf f F. O'KELLEY, Photograph and ** • AM BKoTY PK ARTIST. Rooms on Broad and ring streets, over tho store of John it. Matthews, A- m.tia. MarS-tf E AS. M. ROYAL Harness-Maker, l.cud of Wall street, nearly opposite the old State I' Athene’, Ga., keeps always on hand a general as- . .n .. : of articles in his line, and is always ready to • ‘ i-iers in the best style. H T It. DAVIS, Land Broker, Collec- «“ . TOR and GENERAL AGENT, Augusta, Go.— I i i.ies-i attended to in any county of the State. 0 • i •nd Jackson and Eilis streets. 1\ MASON & CO., Bookbinders, » Paper Rulers and Blank Book Manufacturers, all street, Atlanta, Ga J. II. Cmtt sty, Agent, ;ulv22-l.. M ADISON BELL, Attorney at LAW, Homer, Banks County, Ga.—will prac- i; in the Courts of the Western Circuit. All busiuess 11 listed to his rare will meet with prompt attention. hi:t’shocks : Hon. J. II. Lumpkin, T. R. R. Cohb, 1 ... Athens, Ga., J. II. Banks, Esq., Gainesville, Ga. V1CHOLSON, Reaves & Wynn, -li WhnleoaU and Retail Dealers in STAPLE and VANcY GOODS. GROCERIES, HARDWARE, Crock* try. Ac., largo new Brick Store, corner Bridge and Broad > uvtn, Athene, Ga. If 1) ATMAN & SUMMEY, Dealers in L HARDWARE and CUTLERY, corner of Broad ' 1 Wall streets. Athens, Os. tf iMTNER, ENGLAND & EREE- ». MAN, Wholesale and Retail Dealers in GROCB- hir.s, DHY GOODS, HARDWARE, SHOES A BOOTS, 1' id Street, Athens, Ga. tf P BARRY. Fashionable Boot and > SHOE-MAKER, Broad street, Athens, Ga., is tiftavs in readiness to 611 orders in his line. . P ( >PE BARROW, Attorney at Law, Athens, Ga. Office over White's Bookstore. T BISHOP & SON. Wholesale and -* • Retail Dealers in GROCERIES, HARDWARE STAPLE DRY GOODS, No. t, Broad■*x„ Alliens. T W. WALKER, Attorney at Law, —■ • Athens, Ga. Office ovor the now Jewelry Store i f M s*r«. Mandevilki, Broad street. tf amount of their liability was not paid with in a given time, the Burnses would be home less. To Annette, alone, could this helpless fam ily look for aid. Mr. Burns was confined to his room for the most part; Mrs. Burns, herself, slender in health, was fully employ ed in attending to her husband and Fred dy, the six years old boy; there was none save Annette on whom to depend. And she ? Beared tenderly, petted and flattered, her life guarded from all care, what could she do iu this struggle with life’s cold realities ? When the trial came, Annette proved her worm. Elmstead was dear to her as her owji heart’s blood; she could not see it pass into the hands of strangors, and leave her parents and dear little Freddy homeless! Never! so long as there was strength in l»er arm, and money could be obtained by labor! A nd so she made her decision. She spoke of it very calmly. She would go to -Milk town, the great* manufacturing city, an secure a place in tho factory there. How her father’s pale forehead flushed, and how the crimson heat of pride burned in her mother’s cheek at the thought! but tho noble girl silenced all objections. “ It is for the best,” she said—“ I have lain awake all the past night to weep and pray over it. And now I am fixed—notli- g can change mo.” “ But what will Blake Hammond say?” asked her mother. .A *usft-«iiudo of rose-color swept up to the gill’s cheek. * • ' ]— “ If he is the true man that I believe him to he, he will hid me God speed ! If he is less than that, his opinion can have no in fluence over me." Scarcely had she finished speaking, when the postman entered and laid a note on the table before her. Every vesting of color fled from her faco, as she read the few words written there, pressing her hand against her side like one in pain. Directly she went up to her chamber, and came down no more that day. Her sole earthly prop had fallen! At breakfast, she made her appearance, calm and emotionless as usual. She kissed iittle blue-eyed Freddy, stroked the white kitten that leaped purring on herkuee, and conversed on ilitt'eront topics with her ac customed cheerfulness. When tho meal was concluded, she laid two pieces of paper before her mother, and asked her to read the contents aloud. One was the note she had received the previous day—the other was her reply. The first ran thus: “ -Miss Burns—Circumstances, of which you must be aware, render it expedient that the childish ‘ engagement,’ as we were pleas ed to term it, made between us so long ago, should he dissolved. Probably you will he as ready to agree to this request as I am to make it. Let mo hear from you soon. Yours, truly, Blake Hammond.” The answer was brief and concise. « Mr. Hammond—Consider yourself free. Annette Burns.” To all the surprised exclamations of her parents, she returned but one reply. “ It is hotter so; and let the subject nev er be renewed.” And from that day forth tho name of Blake Hammond was unspoken at Elm- stead. But despite her scorning serenity, it cost Annette no light elForl to submit to tho sun dering of a tie, which, for four happy years, had bound her. Four years ago, when she was nineteen, and ho twenty-two, she had pledged her faith to Blake Hammond, and they were to have been married on tho com ing Christmas day. Circumstances had occurred, which, to the wordly mind of young Hammond, jus tified him in breaking his plighted word, and casting the trusting girl from his heart. lie was ambitious, though poor; ho as pired to wealth, his idol; and how could ho ever reach the glittering treasure, if he married an insolvent’s daughter ? meagre wardrobo; the light-headed young men, employed about the establishment, called her the Quakeress; and her landlady entreated her, as a special favor, -and for the credit of her boarding-house, to pnrehase a new winter bonnet. But Annette endur ed all in silence, and kept on in the old way. Her qniet, statuesque beauty attracted much notice, and, if she had so willed it, she might have been what each one of her young companions aspired her to be—the belle of the factory. Bat her sole wish seem-- cd to he to escape observation; and she turned a deaf car to all the flatteries and gallantries of the admiring youpg men.— When strangers visited the room in which she worked, she never looked at them, but kept on with her business. What right had she to meddle with the gay and happy world ? One day, her overseer, Mr. Granger, said to her iu passing, ^ “ Miss Burns, there is to be a grand le^ vee at tiie hali this evening, in honor of the irrival of Mr. Templeton, the owner of the mill. He has been in Europe for the past two years. You have heard the girls speak of the ovation, I presume ?” '* Yes, sir.” “There will be music and dancing, I be lieve; shall you atteud ?” “ I believe not.” “Indeed! I had hoped otherwise. In fact, I stopped to ask you if I might not escort you thither?” “ Thank you. You are very kind; but 1 cannot go.” She turned away to look lifter a woollen thread, and he walked on to bestow his attentions where they would be better appreciated. Mr. Granger was i seif-conceited little man, and quite a fa vorite with tho young ladies in his room. ittend the levee! Annette said the words over to herself with sarcastic emphasis.— She whose dress was a delaine, darned in the breast and exceedingly scant in the kirt! She whoso shoes were worn to the utmost, and now hardly sufficed to perforin their wonted office! But this day the girls were all in their holiday attire. There was a great deal of laughter and bustle among them, and many eager glances were cast toward the door which opened into that department. An nette asked no questions, but the reason for this unwonted display was explained to her hy the girl in the next row of looms. Mr. Templeton was coming in, that morn ing, to inspect the works. It was eminent ly fitting that the owner and proprietor of all this wealth should be received with some little demonstration ! Aye! the owner of them all! Annette’s heart was very hitter toward this man.— She felt grieved with herself for it, but she could not crush the feeling. He, rich and powerful, what cared he for the toil and suffering of the humble operative, by whose weary labor he gained his wealth ? She would not even turn her head to get n gtimjw« uUum. when he came in, attend ed by hissecretary and a couple of the over seers. The party halted by the loom at which she was engaged, and. conversed a moment about that particular kind of clo th. One of the overseers made some inquiry relative to this web, and Annette raising her head to reply, met the full gaze of Mr. Templeton. He disappointed her. She had looked for a wiry little man, with hard features and cold eyes—she saw instead a tall, well-developed figure, with a face at once noble and striking. A massive fore head, crowned hy clustering curls of brown hair, deep, fathomless brown eyes and fine ly cut features. The only trace of haugh tiness was in the firm compression of the lips, aud the almost stately carriage of the head. Mr. Templeton evidently noticed her scrutiny, for ho bowed to her as if in acknowledgement, and passed on. the balance,” and she laid it down before dressed her drove all fear from her heart, him. [It was that of Mr. Templeton. “I was aware of this,” was the answer. “You are late, to-night, Miss Burns. “Mr. Granger keeps a record of all absen- Permit me to attend you.” tees. There was no mistake. We are all He wrapped the shawl which he was car- liable to sickness. Good morning.” Ho rying carefully around her, and drew her had forced the note into her hand and bow- j hand within his arm. This protecting care ed her from the room before she could of-1 was new to her, but it was very sweet; why, fer a single word of objection. she could have scarcely told, yet she knew And that afternoon’s mail carried all the that all fear and coldness had gono away ready money which Annette Burns pos- from her. sessed to Mr. Steele, her second payment They went on a little way in otter silence; on the mortgage of Elmstead. then lie said, The next morning a telegram was hand- “Annette, mat* I talk to you freely?” ed to her on her way to breakfast. At bein^ called by her Christian name Freddie Burns is sick. The doctor has her heart beat fast, no hopes of him. Come home immediate- • “ Yes,” she said, faintly, ly. Your Parents.” } “Thank you!” He was holding her This was all. And she—she—oh, heav- hand now. “It is abrupt, I know, Annette, en! had no means to detray tiie expenses But I cannot see you wasting your youth ofher journey, and no prospect of anything and bloom away. You must quit this fac- until next quarter's day! And Freddie tory life at once; it is killing you. From was ill—perhaps dying! Dear little gold- this night it ifrnndod! Do you hear me, en-haired, blue-eyed Freddie-’ He called Annette?” for her, no doubt—wept for sister Nettie Certainly she heard him; but slie was to hold his fevered head, and moisten his utterly at a loss to comprehend his mean- burning lips! ing, though she bowed her head in re- It was a long, lonesome forty miles to sponse. Farmiagdale, hut there was no other way. “Well then; the existence that you take She must perform the journey on foot!— from toil must bo given to me! Annette, But she must hasten—not a moment was I love you. I have watched you, when to be lost! Maybe even now her darling yon little suspected me! Speak to me, was lying cold and pulseless in 'his last I Annette. Is this love to be sent away un sleep! She clasped her hands in agony, cared for? Is it!” and hurried down the path to the factory. Annette saw, as with a flash, into her At the gate she met Mr. Templeton. She own heart, the sealed chambers of which stopped instantly and addressed him. she had not recently dared to fathom.— “I want leave cf absence?” she said ab- j ThdTik God for it! Yes, she could speak ruptly. “My only brother is dying, and now. But when she essayed it, her speech I must go at once. I have just learned was only tears. Mr. Templeton stooped this, and had no time to give the proper to kiss them off. notice.” * “My darling! Y’onr face has haunted me Mr. Templeton was startled, not less by since the first look I had of it. The ebad- her tone, than by tho wild pallor of her ow has been always with me—now I am to have the substance! Blessed reality!” face. “ Wiiero does your brother live ? he ask- They turned an angle of the street and into a sheltered covert. A horse attached to a sleigh was tied to a post. Templeton unhitched tho animal, lifted Annette in, and took Ids seat beside her. To her sur prised inquiry he said, “Forgive rno, dearest; but I was in the ante-room, last night, and overheard you wishing to be at home on your birthday. I am going to take you there now. We ed. “In Farmingdale.” “Very well; I will speak to Mr. May field about it,” “Sir, don’t delay’’ a moment! Every second lessens my chance of seeing him alive!” “True. But tho train for Farmingdale does not leave until half past two, and it is only seven now* There is ample time. | will celebrate the day together, if your pa- You go in the cars, of course ?” rents will receive me.” A burning flush swept over Annette’s “Oh! Mr.Templeton!” face. She felt her cowardice. How could That Sabbath—that quiet, sunshiny Sab- she tell this rich and aristocratic gentle- bath—what a joyous day it was to the man, who counted his dollars by the linn- residents of Elmstead. A day of praise dred thousand, that she had not tho tri- and thanksgiving, and tearful offering of fling sum necessary to pay her passage thanks to the God of mercy and love, home ? A moment only’ did false shame And before Reynor Templeton left prevail—her own true courage triumphed. Farmingdale, Elmstead was reclaimed She lifted np her head, proudly, and said, from tho shadow of debt and the mind of “No, sir, I do not go in the cars. I am I Annette was at rest. TALMADGK, STARK & HEINS, A Diialen in Watrl cn, Clock*, Jewelry, Gnus, Pia- ' • • Fine Cutlery. Musical Instrument?, Slicet Music, *'■• vi.ruer of C’ollcsc Avails* aud Clayton at., Allien*, C U Y L E R, Resident Dentist, * • A .Rons, Go. R'uims on Brood *troot; entrance door U Insurance Oflfe©. FobIS-tf \V"M. L. MAULER, Attorney at L AW, Joffer.-i.>n. Jackson comity, Ga. LVRaSrcics.—J. M. McLuatcr and W. S. Thompson, I I’--Jefferron; 1>. W. Spcuea andT. M, People*, Esq. --"r.-ncDviUe; John H. Newton and J. H. Chrlmy, - tf WM. G. DELONY, Attorney at ( . . LAAV, Athcnr, Ga., will attend promptly Uiali *"**' entrusted to his care. “ r I- M. Kenney'a store. Office on Brood street, tf \\ r M PHILIPS, Attorney at Law, lf , Marietta. Go., will practice ip oil the counties ” L Ridge Circuit, in thccouuty of Fulton, of the CiTenil, in the Supreme Court, and in the U. S. l ! ‘n=t Court ot Marietta. tf \\THITE & RITCH, Wholesale & STATIC? ^Dealer in ] !.">» Cutic -- CHAPTER If. For five long months had Annette Burns toiled m the noisy factory. Far from all her kindred, in a strange city, and among unsympathizing strangers, sho went about her daily’ - task. From «‘cock-crow until starlight”—tho same weary’, monotonous rounch—unvaried by a single kind word or friendly smile. Every thread that she wove in the senseless web was the.reeord of the death of some fair hope; every desolate sun set marked the fading out of a little more brightness from her young life. Nothing out tho thought that she was to save the beloved roof over tho heads of her dear ones, buoyed her up and kept her arm strong and willing. Only the remem brance that she was laboring for father, and mother, and Fred, cheered and sustain ed her. . Tho other girls—her gay companions in tho factory'—expended their hard earned money in 'gaudy dresses; she made no pur chaser—every dollar was hoarded as joal- » thcn,i»cr l,oar.J ?i l.ij k gold b TIk- . CHAPTER III. The levee was “splendid.” So the girls said the next day’. Mr. Templeton was present, and though he had not danced himself, ho Bad put no hinderance on the gaiety of the others. They all united in pronouncing him a handsome, kind-heart ed gentleman; and wondering if he was to many the beautiful Miss Gordon, to whom report assigned him. Returning to her boarding-house, at dinner time, Annette was obliged to step into the gutter-to allow a stylish carriage, with a span of black horses, to pass by.— Casually glancing up, she saw that the oc cupants were Mr. Templeton and a young lady of surpassing loveliness. The fair face was turned toward him, wearing a gay’ smile. The ermine tippit and velvet mantle repelled the cold which made An nette shiver in her thin cotton shawl. That night her prayer was long and fervent, and its burden was: “Oh, God! keep mo from Vain onvyings !” The week was a weary’ one. It was midwinter, and the severe cold, acting on Annette’s delicate organism, produced in fluenza and fever. Her miserable shoos admitted tho snow at every step, and her well ivorn garments \\’erc hut a slight pro tection against the wintory blasts. For five day’s she was confined to her room ; but feeling on the sixth, sho resumed her place at tho mill. It was Saturday; and the day’ on which the quarterly’ payments fell duo. At night Annette went down to the counting room with the others; hut the warmth of tho parlor so overcome her, that site did not rise from tho chair into which sho had sunk, at her entrance, until all her companions were gone. Tho pay master had loft tooonly Mr. Templeton remained. Sho went up to his desk with her unspoken request in her eyes. He made no remark, but counted out the money, entered the payment on the book, and opened the door for her as she de parted. Arrived at her boarding-place, from force of habit, Annette counted tho roll o hills, hiit started in surprise when she hue finished. There was the fuil amount o her three months’ wages. For the five days she hud been abseut no deduction had been made. Annettie was not easily tempted, and the money, though of great importancee to her, bad no power to make her forswear her houosty. Her very’ first Act on Mon day morning was to go down to the count ing-room and explain the mistake. It was yet early when she arrivek, and, as before, no one was there but Mr. Templeton, who, ongagod in reading the morningpaper, did In May, the month of blossoms, the bri- I dal took place, and tiie beautiful lady 'whom Annette hud once envied as the promised | bride of Mr. Templeton, was the bride’s maid. Isabel Gordon was a tried and trust- obliged to go on foot. Now yon under stand why I am in such haste.” “On foot? May’ I ask—excuse me- isn’t it forty’ miles to Farmingdale?” “Y«s.” 4 I maid. IsabelUrordon was a trioUandtrust- “You camion go w f3ot,” liX. said, deciu- ed friend io Mr. Templeton—nothing more edly. —and in after years she became as a sister “Take this pass. It will carry’ you to his fair young wife, through to Farmingdale, and beyond, if Elmstead was kept in the family a coun- you wish, and afterwards bring you hack try seat, but through the cold months to Milltown. I am a director of the road. Annette’s parents shared with her the God grant you may bo in time!” stately’ elegance of her husband’s city He pressed her hand, turned, and walk- j homo. ed rapidly away’. Oh! how Annette blessed him. His name went up to heaven in her prayers asking for all peace and happiness to rest I upon him ! That little deed of kindness ] had touched her heart—sho called Mr. Templeton haughty and purse-proud no I longer. Select liHistcUilng. fiHstimvment to Mr. Steelo, tho holder of not notice her ontrance until she spoke. uV.nflnTnir on Elmstead,Jiad been met “There has been it mistake made in my CHAPTER IV. She was in season. Freddie yet linger-1 ed. With a glad cry he held out his lit tle wasted hands and sprang iuto his sis ter’s arms. There was a little season of prayers and I sad bewailings, a brief period of wearying heaven with mad entreaties and then come surcease The angel of death would not | he propitiated, and on the third day’ after her arrival, Annette hold her brother to I her hosoni for the last time, and saw him breathe his last, with his glazing eyes fixed I on her face iu wordless love. One short Aveck Annette tarried at Elm stead, and went back to her toil. Her I lace was a little paler, her soil dark eyes a little more sad, hut the sweet patience of her countenance remained unchanged. i She gave hack the “pass” to Mr. Tem pleton ; hut when sho essayed to tliank him, a flood of tears was all she could offer.— | And ho had glanced at her black dress and understood all without asking a questiou. From that day the rich man was strange ly considerate towards this humble girl.- Ho sent her books which could not bo I procured at tho library, and, occasionally, a rare hot house flower found its way to her attic room in the great boardin' house. The winter passed away. March came. I This was Annette’s.natal month, llow differently would she spend this coming birthday from the last! Thqp, all was joy, song, and sunshine! Beloved friends had | congratulated her, loving eyes had gazed I fondly into her’s, and rare testimonials of friendship had been showered upon her. Now how changed everything! Sho longed to go home for that one day—it would be so pleasant to pass her birthday at Elm stead, Avitli her desolate and bereaved pa rents. This longing was so strong that un consciously, Blie spoke it aloud as she paus-1 ed for a moment in the, empty hall of the factory to adjust her shawl. “Oh! if I only’ could! It would be so| sweet to spend that day, of all others, be neath tho roof! The Sabbath too—doubly | blessed! But it is all right—God will be| with me here as well as there!” Only three days intervened between I then and tho work was more than usually pressing. Tho next day Annette’s Web avus exceedingly troublesome, and her task was not finished Until after sundown. The | other girls hud left the * mill, and, Avith little nervous fear at the lateness of the I hour, she hastened out. The gate was locked, und she was obliged to retrace her steps aud cross the footbridge above the fall—a course which ivould make her walk a half-mile longer. She harried over the bridge and struck into the street; the air was keen; the evening star light; but the dark, narrow street at the extremity. The tall buildings made the way dark and gloomy. In Bpite of herself, Annette felt frightened and desolate, and fear almost lent her wings. There was a quick, firm step behind her; THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN; Showing how he went further than he intended, and cam, •afe home again. Jolin Gilpin waa a citi/.cu Of crcilit aud renown, A trainband enptain eke was bs Ot famous London town. John Gilpin’? spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holy-day have seen. To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto tho boll at Edmonton, All iu a chaise aud pair. My sister and my sister’s child, Myself aud children three, Will fill the chaise: so you must ride On horseback after wo. lie soon replied, I Jo admire Of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done. I am a linen-draper b:ld. As all tbe world doth know, And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go. Quoth Mr. Gilpin, that’s weff said, Aud for that winu is dear, AVe will be furnished with our own, Which is both bright and clear. John Gilpin kiss’d liis loving wife; O’erjoyed was ho to llnd, That though ou pleasure she was bent, Sho had a frugal mind. The morning came, the chaise was brought, Rut yet was not allow’d To drive up to the door* lest all Should say that she was proud. So-three doors off the chaise was stay'd, AVhere they did oil get in; Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and ihin. Smack went the whip, rouud went the wheels AVero never folk so glad; The stones did rattle underneath, As if Cheapside were mad. John Gilpin at his horse’s side Seiz’d fast the flowing mane, Aud up he got in haste to ride, But soon came down again; For saddle tree scarce reach’d had he, His journey to begin. When turning round his bead he saw Three customer come in. So down he came ; for loss of time Although it grieved him sore, Yet less of pence, full well ho knew, Could trouble him much more. ’Twos long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs, “ The wine is left benind !” Good lack! quoth he—yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In whieh I bear my trusty sword, AVhen I do exercise. Now mistress Gilpin (careful Soul!) Had two stone bottles found, To hold the liquor that she lov'd, And keep it safo and sound. Each bottle had a curtin ear, • Through which the belt he drew, And hong a bottle on each side, To make his butanes true. Then over all that he might be Equipp’d from top to toe, His long red cloak, brush’d and neat He manfully did throw. Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o’er the stones, With cantion.aBd good hoed. But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well shod feet, So stooping down, as neods ho must Whocannot sit upright, lie grasp'd tbe mono with both his hands, Aud eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort, Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin, neck or naught; Away went hat and wig; lie little dreamt when he set out, Of running such a rig. The wind blew, tho cloak did fly. Like streamer long and gay. Till, loop and button failiug both, At last it flow away. Then might all people discern Tbe bottles bo had slung: A bottle swinging at each sido, As hath boeu said dr sung. The dogs did bark, the children scream’d, Up flew tho windows all; And ev’ry soul cried out, well done! As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin—who hut ho? His fame soon spread around, He carries weight! he rid«3 a race! 'Tis for a thousand pouud. Aud still, as fast as he drew near, ’Twas wonderful to view. How in a trice to turnpike mon Their gates wide open threw. And now as he went bowing down His reeking head full low. The bottles twain behind his hack AVere shatter’d at a blow. Down ran tho wine into tho road, Most piteous to he seen, AVhicli made his horse’s flanks to smoke As they bad basted been. But still he seem’d to carry weight, AVith leathern girdle brac’d ; For all might sec the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist. Thus all through merry Islington These gambols he did play, Until be came unto tbe AYash 0 f Edmonton so gay: And there be threw tho wash about On both sides of tho way. Just like unto a trudling mop, Or a wild goose - at play. At Edmonston bis loving wife From the balcony spied Her tonder husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. Stop, stop, John Gilpin—Here’s the house— They all at once did cry ; The dinner waits, and we arc tir’d; Said Gilpin—So am I! But yet his horse was not a whit Inclin’d to tarry there;' For why ? his owner hail a house Full ten miles off, at AVarc. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did ho fly—which it brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, Aud sore against his will. Till at his frind the calender’s His horse at last stood still. The calender, amazed to seo Ilia neighbor in such trim. Laid down his pipe, flow to the gate, aud thus accosted him : AVhat news? what news? your tidings toll; Tell me you must and shall— Say why bare-headed you are come, Or why you come at all ? Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And lov’d a timely joke ; And thus unto the calender In merry guise he spoke: I came because your horse would come; And, if I well forebode, My hat and wig will soon bo here, They are upon tbe roail. The calender right glad to find His friend in merry pin, Returned him not a single word, But to tbe bouse went iu; AVhencc straight be came with hat aud wig A wig that flow’d behind, A hat nut much the worse for wear, Each comely in its kind. He held them up, and in his turn Thus show’d bis ready wit, My head is twice as big as yocrs, They therefore needs must fit. But let me scrape the dirt away That bangs upon your face; And stop and oat, for well you may “ Be in a hungry case. Sir John, it is my wedding day, And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at AVaro. So turning to his horse, lie said, I am in haste to dine; ’Twas for your pleasure you come hero Yon shall go back for mine. Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast! For which ho paid full dear; For while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear. Whereat his horse did snort, as be Had beard a Hon roar, And gallop’d off with all his might, As he had done before. Away went Gilpin, and away AVent Gilpin’s hat and wig ; Ho lost them soouer than at first, For why—they were too big. Now mistress Gilpin, whon sho saw Her husband posting down Into tho country faraway, She pull’d out half a crown; An J thus unto the ynnth she said. That drove them to the Bell, This shall be yours, when you bring back My husband safe and well. The youth did ride, and soon did meet, John coming back amain; Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein; But not performing what he meant, Aud gladly would havo done, The frightened steed he frightened more, And made him faster run. Away wont Gilpin, and away AVent postboy at his heels, The postboy’s horse right glad to miss The lumbering of tho wheels. Six gentlemen upon the road, Thus seeing Gilpin fly, With postboy scamp’ring in the rear, They rais'd the hue and cry: — Stop thief! stop thief!—a highwayman! Not one of them was mnto; And all aud each that pass’d that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike again Flew open in short space; The toll me n thinking as before, That Gilpin rode a race. And so ho did and won it too, For he got first to town ; Nor stopp'd till where he did get up He did again get down. Now let us sing, long live the king, And Gilpin, long live ho: And when be next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see! Cowmsa. Tiie Montgomery correspondent of the Baltimore American Avrites: “Already tho Georgians are flocking to tho capitol wit,h the smell of fat offices in their nostrils—and to make tho object even more attainable, like vaudals, they will try to cany off the Capitol to their own State. Calhoun, yon know, in days long since passed, predicted that Atlanta, Ga., weuld one day be a great city—that in the event of the formation of a Southern Con federacy the capitol would be their located —and the prediction will be prophecy^ if Georgia can make it so. Next foremost in thehuntforofficestands j Alabama. This, however, is but natgm| - and to be expected, since the secessions of the Congress are held at the capitol of the TUS DYING BROTHER. One evening, as he lay quietly with closed eyes, and appeared to sleep, his sister sat down By his side, thinking over the past, and arming hersglf for the fu ture. All her disappointed hopes con cerning him lay withered before her, and as she regarded them a heavy sigh escap ed her. “Is that you, Lucy ?” asked Arthur. Sue started up and went to him. “ I thought you was asleep dear,” said she- No, I was looking at you. I was thinking how anxious you have been, ever since 1 can remember, first, to have mo good, then, to see me Aviso. Aud now you need not feel grieved that I have uot had the education thit you meant I should have. For I am going to a fur better school than even you ever asked forme. Christ, himself, will teach me. I shall learn if angels, and of apostles, anti of those great and good men who are saints in heaven. And I want you to know, because it will comfort you when I am gone, that you showed me the A?ay there. You went first, aud I followed. I did not think so very much of what my father aud mother said. I thought they were old and tired of lifo, and liked relig ion because it fell in with their matured tastes. But I could not think that of you. I knew, Avlien you urged me to go to Christ, that He must be a friend for the young too.’’ I wouldn’t talk any more now, dear Arthur,” said Lucy, gently. No, it does me good, I Avant to hear you say that you are glad for me that I am going away from this world. And, Lucy, take care of poor mother ? Com fort her Avhen I am gone. And Hatty too ; I think a great deal of her, which I would tell you if I were not so weak.;— You must lead them all to Jesus. Moth er Avill help you; Jesus himself will help you.” “ I’m afraid to let you talk any more, dear Arthur,” said Lucy, “ I love to hear you ; but 1 know it tires you.” No, it does me good. I want to say one thing more, because it may help to comfort you when I am gone. And I may not have another time so good as this.’’ Ho rested a feAV moments in si lence, then said : “ I have been thinking of that day we Avent to the top of Mount Prospect, in H , together, you know I went first, and how tired I was—tho sun Avus so hot, and the hillside so steep. While I was going up, I kept pitying you, who Avero fur behind, to think you had to climb all the hard rough path, in the heat and over the stones. But when j I got to the top and sat down there, and [saw the beautiful view, that paid for .all ttHTTrvubf©, tWt J loft off reeling anxious about you. I said to myself: She’ll soon be here : it isn’t far; aud she’ll forget her fatigue when she sees what I see.” He paused again to rest. Lucy fanned him gently, and moistened his lips. Af ter a time he began again : “ Just so it seems to me, when I look back now from the place I’m in, I should feel sorry—yes, I should be distressed to see you climbing up, and climbing up, und getting hurt in the rough places, and faint in the heat; but I look down, and it’s only a little way; you’re almost here; and when you get here, you won’t even remember how you got here ; you’ll have enough to do looking at the beautiful view. You’ll think you were only a minute in coming; you’ll forget what hard Avork it was toiling up. Have I made it plain ? Do you understand ? For I’m almost there ; I shan’t be able to stay much more. He fell back, exhausted, upon his pil lows. Lucy went quickly out and called her mother. Arthur had fainted; it was long before they could restore him. When at last he opened his eyes, he smiled upon them and said: “ I thought I avus almost there l’’ These were his last dying thoughts ; he was never again able to converse, save in whispered sentences. Grpwing Aveak- er every day, and not inclining to talk, lie lay quietly listening to hymns and Bi ble Avords , sometimes making a simple, cbild-likc remark about going to Christ’s school, and then relapsing into silence again. Poor Hatty, gentle and thought- lul now, hung over him day and night, secretly reproaching herself and bewailing her indiscretion; yet solaced by many a loving Avord and caress from the happy dying boy. At last, with a hand of his beloved Lu cy in one of his, and that of Hatty in tho other, Arthur entered fearlessly into tho valley of the shadow of death ; and they who had known his life doubted not tha’t when the sisterly grasp was detached from his, angels came and entered into their places, and guided him onward to a better country, and into the enjoyment of eternal felicity-— The Flower of the Fan- Uy. Business in Savannah. The Savannah Republican, in speaking of the business of that city, says: In the general grocery line, our jobbers say they never enjoyed such a large trade as they have this Avinter. Merchants and plantersare flocking here for supplies; and, strange to say, there seems to be a larger cash trade than ever before. Tho usual credit is 30 days and the longest 60 days. Wo first thought that the interruption in trade at Charleston had caused this acces sion to our business, but, on enquiry, found that such was not the fact. The country is bare of goods, and credit at New York is hard to obtain. Hence, many who have heretofore gone through Savannah to New York to make their purchases, have stop ped at home. We hope that ties of busi- formed that will last dur-