Funding for the digitization of this title was provided by R.J. Taylor, Jr. Foundation.
About News & planters' gazette. (Washington, Wilkes County [sic], Ga.) 1840-1844 | View Entire Issue (July 14, 1842)
IVEWS Sc PLANTES®’ GAZETTE. n. . c** T TII¥G, Editor. No. IS.—vKW SERIES.] Sim & PUNTEHS GAZS'IIE terms: Published weekly at Three Dollars per annum if paid at the time of subscribing; or Three Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid till the expi ration of six months. No paper to be discontinued, unless at the o ption of the Editor, without the settlement ot all arrearages. O* Litters, on business, must be post paid, to insure attention. No communication shall be published, unless we are made acquainted with the name of the author. TO ADVERTISERS. Advertisements, not exceeding one square, first insertion, Seventy-fire Cents; and for eai h sub sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduction will be made of twenty-live per cent, to those who advertise by the year. Advertisements not limited when handed in, will be inserted till for bid, and charged accordingly. Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Ad ministrators, and Guardians, are required by lav,, to be advertised, in a public Gazette, sixty days previous to the day of sale. The sales of Personal Property must be adver tised in like manner, forty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Ne groes, must be published weekly for four months; notice that application will be made for Letters of Administration, must be published thirty days; and Letters of Dismission, six motiths. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm www.-b Msul Arrangements. POST OFFICE, i Washington, Ga., January, 1842. $ AUGUSTA MAIL. ARRIVES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M. ci.ofks. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at ‘2l, P. M. MILLEDGEVILLE MAIL. ARRIVES. Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. CLOSES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M. CAROLINA MAIL. ARRIVES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M CLOSES. Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. ATHENS MAIL. ARRIVES. Saturday and Wednesday, at 9, A. M. CLOSES. Saturday and Wednesday, at 9, A. M. ELBERTON MAIL. ARRIVES. CLOSES. Thursday, at 8, P. M. J Thursday, at B,l’. M. LINCOLN I'ON MAIL. ARRIVES. CLOSES. Friday, at 12, M. | Friday, at 12, M. CO r rK\G Sc BUTLER, ATTORMES, HAVE taken an OFFICE over G. P. Co mart’s Store. January, 1842. 28 Doctor F. Ficklen, HAS taken an Office in the new brick build ing on the South-west corner of the Pub lic Square, owned by Bolton & Nolan, where he may be found during the day-time, and at night at his residence. July 7, 1842. 3t. 45 JYotlce. THERE will be an Election held at the Court-llouse in Washington, anil the sev eral precincts of Wilkes county, ior two Justices of the Inferior Court of said county, to fill the va cancies caused by the removal o( Daniel Leo, Esq. and the resignation of John T. Wootten, Esq., on the first Tuesday in August next. II L. EMBRY, ) LEWIS S. BIIOWN, >J.I. C. WM. a ANDERSON, ) July 7,1842. 45 rwu fV SHOES. rpiO-WiT, the following: Ladies’ Kid,Calf, A and Prunelle Walking Shoes ; Women’s sew’d Kip Shoetees ; Boys’ Calf and Kip Shoes, sew’d and peg’d ; Coarse Brogans, making my assortment complete from the smallest size to the largest extra size, low for Cash. A. L. LEWIS. December 10, 1841. 16 Police. A LI. persons : do sd lo tire late firm of Mc- K-TSI MfLLAN & VINCENT, are requested to in ■ ‘ p-wment immediately to JOHN H. DYSON. Jan wiry , 1842. 19 Sate. A HOUSE and LOT, well im proved and pleasantly situated in the SSISmV Town of Washington. For further isyasHs particulars, apply to STEPHEN G. PETTUS. May 19,1842. 38 Subtle Sale. n._A Will be sold on the first Tuesday in August next, at the Court-House • Siißffll loor ot Wilkes county, the HOUSE -Lmw-.JsS&t, ± 1( ( LOT and Appurtenances, lying a..d oe..i> in the Town of Washington, on the main Augusta Road, adjoining lands of John F. Pelot’s estate, A. L. Alexander, and E. M. Bur ton. Terms Cash. Selling the same by virtue of a power vested in me by F. C. Wingfield—l will sell such title as is in me, witbou* persona! covenants, though ihe title is deemeu unques tionably good. GABRIEL TOOMBS. ■ June 30,1842. 44 f gVIOLii montfis after date application will be J- made to the Honorable the Inferior Court oi Wilkes county, while sitting as a Court of Ordinal, for leave to sell two Negroes belong ing to tile heirs of Simeon Henderson, deceased. THOMAS T. RIDDLE, Guardian. July, 7, 1842. m4m 45 _ jti'i i f>Tf ll an r o tt& THE LIEUTENANTS IUtIIJE. RY IIELLEN ASHTON. It was the annual ball at West Point.— The room was elegantly decorated with flags hung in festoons, sabres formed into stars, and all the other paraphernalia of military glory. The floor was crowded with officers of tile-army and navy, of eve ry rank, from the midshipman and cadet upward. The military band of the post occupied the orchestra. Never, perhaps, has there been assembled at West Point a prouder assemblage of beauty than that which then entranced the beholder. There were dark brunets from Baltimore ; golden haired Hebes from Charlestown; tall, state ly beauties from Philadelphia ; gay belles from the more ostentatious New York ; and even the fair blondedaughtersof New Eng land, with iheir blue eyes, their complex ions, their proud dignity of mien Bui a mong that brilliant array there was one pre eminently beautiful. Tall and shapely in her figure, she moved through the room with the stately motion of a swan, eliciting admi ration from every beholder. Her dress was simple, yet costly and beautiful. It was evident that the severest taste presided over die toilette of the fascinating Ellen Bel voir; for fascinating every one felt her to be who had listened, though but for a moment, to her gay sallies, or her subdued sentiment. Her very look, word and motion, was grace itself. She possessed that rare combina tion ofqualities which constitutes the lady in contra-distinction to the mere pretender. But it was not her manners alone that ren derod her so. Her politeness was that of the heart. Site was no mere automaton ; she would have beenequally as affable and kind had she been in a cottage. But alas! it was tire misfortune of Ellen Belvoir to have been bom of a noble family, and she had been brought up with notions of the su periority of blood. In this originated a trait of her character which is shaped by too many of her sex—a scorn for all who could not trace their lineage to an equally noble origin with Iters. But now, surrounded bv admirers, and excited by the gay scene u round, even Ellen Belvoir had forgotton her prejudices. “Who is that elegant man?” she said to her cousin, during an intermission betwixt the sets, glancing toward a noble-looking officer in the uniform ofa captain in the ar my ; “he has been in the room a full half hour and yet he has not asked to be intro duced to me. 1 declare,” she added gaily “I am quite piqued at his indifference.” “Ah ! coz, you will make him repent of it yet,” laughingly replied her cousin “or I mistake your sex. But see, he is coming this way. He is an old messmate ofminc, and I will introduce him—ah! Capt. Stan ley, glad to see you,” and advancing from Ellen’s side, her cousin grasped the hand of the approaching officer. The salutation was warmly returned, and for a while the two friends were engaged in talking of the events that had transpired to each since they met last. At length, Stanley’s eyes happened to fall on Iho spiritual face of Miss Belvoir, arid from the look of admiration, her cousin knew at once that an introduc tion would be considered a favor. He ac cordingly presented the young officer to El len, and, after a few remarks, sauntered a cross the room, leaving his cousin and Stanley together. What is so favorable to love as a gay ball-room? and what ball-room is so dan gerous as that of West Point? Both Ellen and Stanley were soon lost to every thing except each other. They danced together, and promenaded in company, until they be came the objects of whispered, though gen eral remark. Before the festivities of the evening had terminated, it was universally gossipped about that the beautiful Miss Bel voir, and the hitherto heart-free Captain Stanley, had fallen mutually in love. Some affected to sneer at it ; some wondered how it did happen ; but all agreed that the two were the finest couple in the room, and were admirably fitted for each other. The gossip of a ball-room was, for once, right. Ellen Belvoir had passed three win ters since her coming out, without meeting with any one to subdue her virgin heart ; but from the first moment she saw Stanley, she felt a strange interest in him. His gal lant bearing, his polished manners, his fine conversational powers, and above all a cer tain frankness of deportment toward her, so different from the sickening flattery daily poured into her ears, appealed at once to her fancy, and soon subdued her judgement. She felt that Stanley was one to whom she could look up, and she knew that only such a character could possess her love. His eloquent tones vibrated in her ears long af ter they had parted for the night, and even in her dreams she saw his manly form ben ding admiringly over her. Stanley had been equally’ charmed with his partner. Years had elapsed since he had been appointed to one of the stations on the far west, and during that period he had been completely excluded ft :n refined fe-‘ male society. Heoccupicd tiietime in pic turing to himself the beau ideal of a being such as he could choose for a wife. On his return to the east lie had many lovely beings, whose attractions his friends thought him incapable of resisting ; but nearly a year had passed even less susceptible than on his return. He had sought in vain to realize his romantic dreams, and finding it impossible, was content to enjoy the repu tation of a confirmed bachelor. Now, how. PUBLISIIED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING. WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTY, GA.,) JULY 14, 1842. ever, he thought he met the divinity which he had so long adored in secret ; for, in El len Belvoir, he fancied he saw every trait which he sought to have in a wife. As he became more intimate with the lovely girl, he grew more confirmed in this first impres sion, and, after a fortnight’s sojourn at West Point, where Miss Belvoir had been passing the summer, Stanley became com pletely in love. Nor was Ellen less ena mored of the young officer, whose gallant bearing attracted every eye, and whose ser vices in the field had already won for him an enviable name. When, therefore, Stan ley proposed for her hand, Ellen accepted it, for she was an orphan and an heiress, and already in possession of her property. It was arranged that the wedding should take place the ensuing winter. ‘I he lovers at length parted, but only for two short months, preparatory to their fu ture marriage. Business called the lieu tenant to Washington, while the affianced bride accompanied by her cousin, returned to Boston, by the way of Albany. It was at the close of a hot, sultry day, that the carriage in which they travelled drew up at a neat public house in one of those quiet villages which are scattered through Massachusetts. They had jour neyed the whole day through the mountains and the sight of the white inn, with its green Venetian shutters and its pretty garden in the rear, all betokening the tidiness of the owner, was peculiarly refreshing to the tra vellers. The pleasant looking widow lady who met them at the door, increased their delight with tiie place. “A sweet village you have here,” said the gentleman on alighting, as he followed the landlady to a small, but exquisitely neat parlor. “Yes, sir, although it is small,” answer ed the landlady ; “it is rarely that we have many strangers visiting here, and so the place is much as it was in the days of our fathers.” There was something in the low, sweet modulated tone of the speaker, which made the interrogator start. Surely that voice belonged to no common innkeeper’s widow. There was that finish in the tones which is the surest evidence ofa refined mind, liis cousin seemed to notice this also, for when the landlady had retired, she said— “ Our hostess is certainly above the com ,mon order ; one would almost think she had been born a lady, and transformed by some malignant genius into a common innkeep er’s widow.” “She is obviously a woman ofeducation perhaps someone whom distress has driven to this business for a livelihood. She has not always kept an inn, be assured, coz.” “Still, nothing ought to have induced her to stoop to so degrading an occupation,” said his fair cousin, her prejudices at once tak ing alarm; “there are always enough ways in which an impoverished lady can obtain a livelihood, without resorting to the trade of an innkeeper. Pshaw ! coz you are wrong after all—the fact of her having adopted this business, is a sufficient proof’ that she is no lady,” and she gave somewhat of a haughty toss of her head as she spoke. When, after an hour's rest, they met at supper, they were ushered into a neat room a door from which opened into an apartment beyond, apparently a bed room. This door was a jar, disclosing a portrait hang ing on an opposite wall. The light in this inner apartment somewhat dim, but Ellen could distinguish that the picture represen ted a young man in uniform, and a second glance assured her that the portrait was that of her affianced lover. The landlady noticed her emotion with some surprise, and as she sat down to do the honors of the table, looked to Ellen for an explanation. Miss Belvoir, fearing that her agitation had been noticed, said— “ Pray, if not too inquisitive. rr;r 1 ask whose portrait I see within tit -i 1 ■ ars a striking resemblance to one i>u” well known? ” “It is the portrait of my son,” quietly an swered the landlady, but.a p. . .i smile lit up her face, as if she was conscious of the worth of him of whom she spoke. “And his name? ” breathlessly asked El- “Edward Stanley,” was the response; “he has been on the frontier for years, and but lately returned. Hisfirst visit,” con tinued the fond mother, with pride, “was paid to me, and on his departure he sent that portrait.” “Do you know where be is now? ” asked Ellen, concealing, by a violent effort the in terest she felt in the reply. “At Washington, I believe—lie wrote to me about a fortnight since from West Point stating that he should have to visit Wash ington soon on business. Is your tea, Miss, agreeable?” she continued, suddenly recol lecting that, in her fondness for her child she had forgotten the duties of her station. Shall we picture the struggle that took place in the mind of Ellen that night after she had retired ? Her cousin, little think ing of the effect it was to produce, had ban tered her on her love for the landlady’s son and had thus aroused prejudices which on ly her affections had hitherto kept down.— What! should she, the proud, the gifted, the highborn, wed the snn ofa village land lady ? Long she lav and thought of it. and every moment her pride grew stronger, so that, although her love had struggled for the mastery, her pride of birth came off victor Perhaps she had never loved with that single heartedness which is a true wo man’s jewel !—but so it was—she rose the ensuing morning, determined to break oil’ the match with her lover. She resolved. however, not to apprize him of her determi nation until she had reached Boston. During the rest of her journey, Ellen as sumed a gaiety of tone little in keeping with her real feelings. She made no confident of her cousin, for it was a part of Iter self willed and imperious nature to rely wholly on herself. But when they reached Boston he accompanied her to her residence, and on taking leave, said laughingly, in reply to a retort of hers— “ Adieu, my sweet coz, and remember, when you are married, to buy the old inn • n . as a remembrance of old times.” The shock struck home. Ellen had re newed the struggle in Iter breast betwixt love au l pride, and the former had almost come oil’ conquerer, when the unlucky re tort of Iter cousin aroused all her haughti ness. She had many good feelings, hut she had lived so long in the world that she had become a believer in the truth of its maxims. What would her young friends say, she thought, if she married a landla- j dy’s son? She went into the house, and on 1 the spur of the moment wrote a dismissal j to her lover. And how did lie receive it ? More in ! sorrow than in indignation. He sat down, and he wrote a reply, in which he coldly notified the receipt of her letter. No un worthy regret did ha breathe—no attempt did he make to change Iter determination. His love hitherto had blinded him to this j trait in Ellen's character, but now it ap- j peared in all its glaring deformity before him, and lie renounced her, certainly not ! without pain hut without regret. And years passed, and he saw and wooed ‘ another and a fairer bride. But Ellen ne ver married. She repented too soon of her conduct. Perhaps others avoided her on account of her heartlessness towards Stan ley, hut from the hour of their separation she faded away, as if some secret sorrow was at tier heart. She lived to become what she most dreaded —an old maid. LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG! BY DALTON. “And when, my Angelic Seraphine, will you yield your sweet self to the arms of Mars and Major O’Callaghan ?—Caesar, ye divil, take your tail out of the lady’s bas ket, and let her spake in pace and quiet ness.” The latter portion ofthis address wasdi rected to a large black, curl-haired New foundland dog, who acknowledged the re proof with dignity, and complied evidently as a matter of great condescension. The “ Angelic Seraphine” was a maid en, “ a gem of purest ray serene,” whose beauty had for nine-and-thirty long years been lost upon mankind ; but, recently dec orated with a setting both “ rich and rare,” its worth and brilliancy had become sud denly and widely appreciated. No sooner had the highly respectable Mynheer Von Steinker, died, leaving ten thousand pounds in red-herrings and Dutch cheeses, to his niece, the said unnoticed “ Gem,” than un numbered aspirants started up for the hand (none, of course, looked so low as the pock ■ et) of the charming heiress. Major O'Cal laghan, however, and a certain Mr. Au gustus Adolphus Ernest Jay, clearly dis tanced the field ; with these, so well bal anced appeared their merits, danger was at one time apprehended of a dead heat, till Mr. Jay, whose force for the most part, in sentimental poetry, and a nice disposition of the shirt collar, gradually gave ground to his more vigorous rival. “ Shall we say to-morrow, my darlin’, or will it be the day after, my own an gel ?” Miss Serephine (an euphonism, by the way for Sally) bent her eyes earnestly, to wards the canvass on which she was delin eating in worsted some very original leaves and roses. “ Now, really, Major, is’nt this very pretty? ” she said at length with an air of innocent playfulness, as if matrimony had not formed the subject of her highest tho’ts, “ have you seen the enchanting stanzas that dear Mr. Jay has addressed to my bouquet. ? Heigho ! he certainly does write delightful ly ?” “ And don’t I write delightfully?” ex claimed her companion, “ running, round hand, German text, and cyphering—its all one ” “ I spoke of poetry, sir,” said the lady. “And has he been writing poetry on them pickled cabbages and cowcumbcrs ?” “ Cabbages and cucumbers, Major O’- Callaghan !” repeated Miss Steinker in a very high tone. “Oh !” cried the latter, passing one hand round her waist, and with the other seizing one of hers, “ what is cowcumhers ?—and what is roses and cabbages to female love liness and military affection ? Here I throw myself, a good six-feet-lwo, at your feet, and will never rise till you fix the day for becoming Mrs. Major O'Callaghan,— Mrs. Major O’Callaghan,” he repeated, laying much emphasis upon the somewhat incongruous prefix. The lady turned her green and lovely eyes upon the speaker ; a faint, a very faint suffusion was just visible on her counte nance as she met the “ Long-sword saddle bridle” expression of bis. “ The day ?” i\ iterated the suppliant; “ now or niver ?” The “ now or niver” settled the busi ness. Miss Steinker trembled, and Mr. Jay was lost. “ Wednesday next” was at her tongue's end, when, modestly turning her head aside, she with a shriek exclaimed, “ Oh ! mine dear life !—oh ! mine beau tiful worsteeds ! we are all ruined ! What you bring your filthy dog for here ? be is i vone brute—a beast !” “Avery common charge against dogs, ■ ina am, replied her admirer, taking snuff, j but still on liis knees. “Cffisar, sir, oblige j the lady by putting her dafly-down-dillies | out of your own ugly mouth.” Cffisar looked at liis master, as if inclined j to expostulate and argue with him the un reasonableness of the request. “Drop it, sir!” exclaimed the latter sharp- I !y. | The dog instantly obeyed, and wagging bis tail with an “Oh certainly-if-you-wish it kind ot air, deposited the mangled por • ions of the worsted boquet, the “Door remains ot beauty once adored,” upon the floor. fhc deed, however, was done. Miss j Steinker was indignant, and not one more j word respecting the happy day,—the aus- j picious day—the blushing morn, (the Ma jor tried them all,) would she listen to.— ‘ The disconsolate lover was at length com- j polled to beat a retreat unanswered, and , with an intimation, too, that he was not to | set foot in that best front drawing room a- j gain till Cffisar had found a Brutus, or had \ at least, suffered the pains and penalties of expatriation. It was a severe blow to Major O'Calla- ! glian. Cicsar, from the days of puppvhood ! had lived with him, bed eaten with him— j when there was dinner for two—and had j slept nightly at liis feet.-’twas a hard mat- j ter to part with so intimate and so intclli- \ gent a companion ; but the sentence had j gone forth, and the lady was not to bo tri fled with—before marriage ; the “Long- ; sword-saddle-bridle” system might be car- \ ried too far, with her—which could not be j the case with the dog—and ten thousand ! pounds was rather too large a sum to pay ! for his society ; ho was despatched accor- | dingly, heavily chained and collared, and consigned per wagon to Cornelius Bather shins, Esq., of the Inner Temple. ***** With a heavy heart did Major O’Calla. j ghan make liis next appearance in his ina morta’s best front drawing room. “The Mistress will he down in a moment ! sir,” said Mollv. “Poor Basie,” ejaculated the Major. Molly stared, and after rattling the ban- j die for some time, without obtaining her I usual assistance front the usually gallant j visiter, banged to the door in a pet. “ Poor Baste ; ye are far enough by this time; hungry and thirsty may be; and j exposed to all the perils and temptations ot 1 the metropolis!!.” A low, prolonged whine and a furious j scratching, interrupted the soliloquy, the I next moment the door was forced open, and | Cffisar, dirty and foot-sore, lay crouching at j his master’s feet. “Ye divil’s darlin ?” cried the major, in : the greatest possible surprise and alarm, j “isn’t it that I am ruinated entirely ? What ; in the name ofould Nick, has brought your j disagreeable face back again ?” Cicsar replied by throwing his enormous i paws upon his master’s chest, as if intimat- I ing that it was to them more directly lie I was indebted for bis unlocked for return. “ Fire and wather !” pursued the distrac ted Major ; “ 1 hear the misthress on the j stairs; into the balcony, ye blackguard ; and down, sir, down ; niver stir, if you val- j ue that overgrown tail of yours. There was but just time to close the j French windows, and for the dog to stretch ! himself on the outside, behind a large ger anium stand, ere Miss Seraphine made her appearance. Major O’Callaghan did not on this occasion receive bis betrothed with that modest assurance and gallantry so pe culiar to gentlemen of his country and pro fession ; liis conversation was incoherent : liis seat uneasy. ‘ “ Dear me, the room is very close,” ob- ! served Miss Steinker ; pray be so goot .as i open the window.” “ Oh, divil a bit; isn't it as cowld as ‘ Caucasus ? and would you have that ille- j gant face swelled as big as a cauliflower ? i No: put on your hat and boots —bother! bonnet I mane ; and we’ll just take a stroll ! to the pier ; its highwather, and •” “Wauw-wauw!” screamed something! behind him. “ Gracious heavens ! what’s dat ?” ex claimed Miss Seraphine. “ Och ! nothing ; niver mind that,” said the Major, “ put on the bonnet.” “ Spit, spit!—wauw-wauw !-wow-wow !” continued the unknown individual. “ What is it ?—oh dear!” cried the la dy, turning yellow in alarm. “ Put on the boots !” shouted the Major. “ Bow—wow-wow !” came from the bal cony, and in an ins:; it. with a tremendous crash, over went the geranium-stand— smash went the v. . dow, and through it sprang a largo tor e a brass collar round his neck, at: . a German sausage ; in a . dashed Cffi sar, shivering ti. ms and over turning several * ■of curiouschi na in his course ! h< u.,:it the luckless fugitive by the back; gave one sharp grip, and “ It once was Thomas that thou lookest upon.” The lady emitted shrieks, rapid and shrill as those of a steam carriage with “the whistle” up ; Major O’Callaghan had re course to oaths ofa much deeper note, and expressed in the purest Milesian ; while the dog, with one paw on the prostrate foe, wagged his tail, and barked occasionally, with an extremely self-satisfied expression, i weakly imagining, perhaps, that the con | cert in question, was got up in express cel ebration of his victory. n. J. K APPEL, Printer. “ Oh, mine life ! mine soul ! mine dear Tommy !” screamed Miss Seraphine. “It is all over! I will faint.” “ For the love of Heaven and Major O’- Callaghan, don’t think of it! Oh, bother !- where’s the wather ?” In his agitation the gallant officer grasp ed the tea-kettle, and, iiad not Miss Sera phine, with admirable presence of mind postponed her fit, and recovered on the in stant ere the lapse of another, she would, in all probability, itavc found herself “ well washed and done for.” Cicsar now laid the breathless favourite at his master’s feet, and looked up into his face anxiously expecting notice and com mendation. Poor fellow ! what a different fate awaited him ; the sentence of perpet ual banishment was commuted indeed— but commuted for immediate execution : nothing less might expiate the double crime of Burglary and Tommy cide ! “ Hang him—poison him—shoot him— drown him!” and until all this was done, a second interdict was laid on the “ best front drawing-room.” “ There goes a brace of ye,” soliloquiz ed the Major, as Miss Steinker, having de livered the last prohibition, rushed to her chamber, with the ill-fated cat in her arms. “Cicsar, ye divil! why didn’t you tackle both of’em when your mouth was in it ! ’twould have saved us two a mighty un pleasant operation.” * * * * * :|c Slowly—sadly did Major O’Callaghan pace his way towards the little jetty, which springs from that extremity of the Dover Bay, known as “ Smith’s Folly ;” his cur ly-haired companion trotted cheerfully by bis side, little divining the business on which they were bent. It was the morn of the Major’s wedding day, which bad been lized, subject to execution being previously done on Cicsar. The hour was come! “ I’d not trust another,” muttered t'\ Major; as he passed under-the Castle Clift “and the pup might object to be drowned by a stranger —No ; this is the hand to do it tinderly, if it must be done ; but, why must ? What is nine or ten thousand dirty pounds, after all ?” As it probably occur red to him that the said sum was one ‘To which none but itself could be his parallel,’ he did not pursue the inquiry further, and Cffisar perceiving his irresolution, trotted up, and licked his hand. “ I cannot do it,” exclaimed the Major, stopping, lie turned, and doing so caught sight of Mr. Swipes, the wine merchant, who was apparently watching his motions at a little distance on the Parade. “Oh, bother ! .Swipes,” he muttered, “ then it’s all up !*’ Cmsar's fate was settled. On reaching the little brcnk-watcr. the dog, as if conscious of approaching ii -dunk be hind, and watched hi.-- master with seeming uneasiness, while he filled a mall ballast hag with shingle. “ Cffisar,” said the latter advancing, ■ 1 am about to discharge a painful duty, to gether with several small accounts. You’ll not mind it, old dog ! Drowning is not so mighty unpleasant as people make it out; but give me your paw, Ctcsar,—we’ll niver shake hands again in this world.” The animal obeyed, and with a plaintive air, ami looking piteously at the Major, licking bis hands occasionally as the can vass bag was being fastened around his neck. “ Don’t look so unhappy, then ; it’s only one plunge, and a mouthful or so of salt wather, said the Major, as he coaxed the o bedient creature to the edge of the platform. The breeze was pretty still, and the tide came rolling in, booming heavily on the barrier of shingle behind them; it was nearly high water, and full five fathoms deep immediately below the spot on which | they were standing. The two looked on I each other, and a salt drop stood in the Ma jor’s eye, but whether of spray or otherwise was never clearly ascertained. He patted the dog’s head, then pointed suddenly to the sea ; no sooner was the latter’s gaze avert ed than his master pushed him suddenly from the parapet! For an instant or two the poor creature’s black and glossv head was visible as he i strained every nerve to keep above the sur ; face ; the next it was gone ! At that moment, Major O'Callaghan j would have cheerfully given all he pos j sessed in the world, (viz: certain military j equipments, and a pound and a half of the j best Havana cigars,) to have recalled his j lost favorite to life. It was too late ! and so, indeed, was he | himself. The “ church was decked,” &c. j and the bridal party had been assembled some time, when the bride-groom rushed i ’ C i disordered into the apartment. Mis apolo j gy was very brief, and not particularly dis j tinct. “It is done !” lie said, in a low tone to Miss Seraphine ; “ho has bratlied bis last, poor fellow ; or, rather be couldn t brathe it, for he was choked by the salt wather.” A plump little boy, in a suit much too tight for him, and covered with buttons, here announced that the carriages were in wait in". A movement was made towards the hall. “Ob, mine little heart! it beat so!” sighed the lady. “ It’s soon over,” replied the Major ; at laste it was with Caesar !” Down clattered the steps, the door was thrown wide ; and through it, scattering dirt and dismay in every direction, sprang Cffisar himself, in all the ecstaoies of de light ! The huge animal threw himself upon his master, and. dripping as ho was. t'. Major [VOLUME XXVII.
