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IBWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
D.. COTTINCf, Editor.
No. 30—NEW SERIES.]
NEWS Sl PLANTERS CAZEiI E.
terms:
Published weekly at Three Dollars pci 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 papor to be discontinued, uiilcbf at the
option of the Editor, without the settlement of
■all arrearages.
ID* Letters, on business, must be post j. aid, to
insure attention. No communication shall he
published, unless tee are made acquainted with
■the name of the author.
TO ADVERTISERS.
Advertisements, not exceeding one square, first
insertion, Seventy-five Cents; and for each sub
sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduction will
be made of twenty-five 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 law,
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 man nor, 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 for four months—
notice that application will be made for Lette;\-
of Administration, must be published thirty days;
and Letters of Dismission, six months.
Mail Arrangements.
POST OFFICE, i
Washington, G 0,., January, 1843. jj
AUGUSTA MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M.
CLOSES.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at 12, 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 0, A. M.
LEXINGTON MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Tuesday and Saturday, at 2, P. M.
CLOSES.
Monday and Friday, at 9, A. M.
ELBERTON MAIL.
ARRIVES. CLOSES.
Thursday, at 8, P. M. j Thursday, at B,l’. M.
LINCOLNTON MAIL.
ARRIVES. CLOSES.
Friday, at 12, M. j Friday, at 12, M.
LAW NOTISEr
nn nusanruiiaa*
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
IT Office in Mr. Barnett’s new building, North
west corner of the Public Square.
Washington, Wilkes county, (ia., )
December 22, 1842. ” 17
LOTTING & BUTLER,
ATTORNIES,
HAVE taken an OFFICE in the rear of
Willis & Hester’s Store.
January, 1843. 28
The Subscriber,
ISIIING to close business, offers at Kedu
* “ ced Prices, his present STOCK, consist
ing iu pari, of the following :
S Ladies’ Kid and Calf walking
Shoes, just received.
Misses Calf and Seal do. do.
Children’s Shoes,of various kinds
Boy’s Call and Kip, sewed and peg’d. Shoes,
Men’s Shoes, sewed and peg’d. a variety,
Women’s sewed and peg’d. Kips,
Women’s fine Leather Bootees,
Gentlemen’s fine Calf Boots,
Coarse Brogans, nien’s and boys, best quality,
I)o. do. extra size,
Men’s Leather Slippers,
Men’s Calf and Seal Pumps.
ALSO,
Ladies’ Kid Buskin Ties, and a case of Gentle
r-.en’s sewed Shoes, soon to arrive.
Also, Factory Oznaburgs, at 9 cents per yard,
and woolen Linseys, nearly a yard wide, at 28 .o
30 cents, which article was sent invoiced at 45
cents, and cannot be bought at the Factory now
at much less than 40 cts. by the quantity.
U* Persons wishing any of tiio above articles,
will do well to call at tbs SHOE STORE of
A. L. LEWIS.
N. B.—Persons indebted on account will please
call and settle at the earliest possible date.
January 12, 1843. A. 1,. L.
McGRANAGHAN & DONNELLY,
HAVE removed to the tenement next to the
Store formerly occupied by H. S. Belcher,
on the West side of the Public Square, where
they will be at all times happy to see their
friends and customers.
March 2, 1813. 3t 27
gCa Haring Ustablishment
Removed over H. S. Belcher’s Store.
THE Subscriber begs leave to inform the pub
lic and his former customers, that iu conse
quence of the present Hard Times, he will make
up Work in a Superior Style of Fashion, at a
reduqftd pricq for Cash. Cotton, Hog-meat,
LaruTMeal, Flour, or Irish Potatoes. Persons
wisifig to patronize a TAILOR that is willing
to comply with the Times, can do so by applying
to the Subscriber.
WILLIAM F. SOHAN.
October 13, 1842. 7
I For Sale.
A GOOD supply of CANDLES, of excel
-t*. lent quality. If on trial, they are not Sound
uteuit the purchaser, they may be returned
R. 11. VICKERS.
March 2, 1843. 27
Saddle Found.
A SADDLE was taken off a Sorrel Ilorse,
found loose in the St reels during Court, and
deposited in rny Stable. The owner can have
the same by paying for this advertisement, and
applying to me. R. 11. VICKERS.
March 2,1843. 07
Cabinet •flaking.
THE Subscriber will continue the CABI
NET BUSINESS at the old stand for
merly occupied by Mr. Joseph Moseley, where
he will despatch all kinds of work in his line at
prices corresponding with the hard times.
Persons’ wishing to purchase any articles in
his line will do well to call beiore buying else
where.
He would also inform the public that he is
prepared to execute TURNING, which he will
do low and on terms to suit his customers. Do
not be baakward in coining forward.
JOSEPH GARDNER.
February 23,1848. 4t 26
GEORGIA, Wilkes county.
Tolled before me, William M.
IM Booker, a Justice of tiie Peace for
V? /’ll -‘■ l A county, by Lewis Crook, of the
•‘itr^Wlf 177th District, a small iron-grey
H- .ivSE, a trout lour years old, four feet five in
ches high, hall face, no marks or brands visible,
in very low order, appraised by Thomas Elliott
and Jefferson Moreuian, at ten dollars, this 4lh
day of March, 1843
WILLIAM M BOOKER, J. P.
Extract from the Estray Book.
ROVLAND BEASLEY, Clerk I. C.
March 16, 1843. 3t 29
ADMINISTRATOR'S SALE.
Ll’ be sold on the first Tuesday in May
t next, before the Court-House door in
Washington, Wilkes county, between the legal
hours ot sale, the following property, 10-wit:
One Negro woman named Sarah, about 50
years oi age; one girl named Elly, about 15
years old ; a girl named Emily, about 12 years
old, and two boys about 5 and 7 years of age
Sold as tire property of Edward Jones, deceased,
for the benefit oi the heirs and creditors, bv or
der 01 the Honorable Inferior Court of Wilkes
county, while sitting for Ordinary purposes.—
Terms made known on the dav of sale.
FELIX G. HENDERSON, Adm’r.
de bonis non, Estate of Edward Jones.
March 2,18-13. fit 27
J&tsccUineouo.
‘MY DEAR, MR. JONAS BROWN HAS
LOST HIS LAW SUIT.
Mr. Jonas Brown was a most respectable,
middled-aged gentleman, with a fine bald
and systematically-powdered head, the
least obtrusive of silvery pigtails, a double
eye-glass pearl-mounted, neatly-fitting gsi
terpantaloons, and unexceptionable white
cravat, carefully plaited cambric-frilled
shirt, and a superior Saxony-blue-befitting
ly.foran elderly.gentleman-cut-coat; and
Mr. Jonas Brown was also (be bosom and
intimate friend of Mr. James Snake, and
Mrs. James Snake, and the patron-and-gen
eral-lollypop-sixpence-a-week and sugar
candy.depot of five small scions of the be
fore-mentioned Mr. and Mrs. James Snake.
Now the reason for the extreme friendship
of these worthies was on the part of Mr.
Jonas Brown, a kindly feeling of gratitude
for many small, but to him peculiarly plea
sant, demonstrations of affectionate regard
for which he considered himself the Snake’s
debtor, and the cause of those manifesta
tions on the part ofthe Snakes was the hope
of ulterior benefits, which they doubted not
they should receive from their flattered
guest upon his accession to a very consid
erable property to which be was supposed
to be the undoubted heir-at law, and fully
expected at the termination of a suit then
pending, to become the actual possessor.
Under these circumstances, Mr. Jonas
Brown was made a .si' e T jesrr, god
by his disinterested frie new co\ly could
carve like Mr. Browi.< ea j j n U*?nuld speak
like Mr. Brown, ■. a punch
like Mr. Brown, nobody could siir a fire
like Mr. Brown, nobody knew anything
about politics but Mr. Brown ; in short, all
perfections in all acts were summed up in
Mr. Brown ; and all the rest of the world,
or at least such portions of it as dissented
from Mr. Brown, were little better than fools
and asses.
Thus had things gone on for some time ;
the flattered and delighted Brown frequent
ly dropping vague hints of his future inten
tions for the dear children, and his determi
nation to convince the senior Snake she was
not a man to forget one, much less a series
of such unchanging kindness.
One morning, as the whole family wore
seated at breakfast, and just as dear Mr.
Brown’s dry toast and delicious chocolate
were handed to him, the rat-tat of the post
man produced, as, it, for some reason or
other, generally does, an instant cessation
from other topics and actions, to wait, and
guess, and wonder who the letter was from,
and who it was for.
A brief time solved the doubts ; the ser
vant maid entered the room and placed a
letter on the table, subscribed, in a large
bold round hand, ‘Jonasßrown, Esq.,’ and,
at the top, the ominous words ‘immediate
and important. All eyes were fixed upon
the letter: Jonas carefully wiped his dou
ble eye-glass with a snow-white handker
chief; with much deliberation he broke the
seal, and after one or two slightly nervous
preliminary hems, proceeded to master the
contents. After a brief pause, he laid
down the epistle, having first carefully re
folded it, and ssul—
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING.
WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTV, GA.,) MARCH 23, 1843.
‘My friends, I must leave you fora while.’
‘Leave us!’ exclaimed the full-grown
Snakes; and ‘Leave us!’ trebled the smal
ler fry ; and then altogether, as if actuated
by one impulse, they screamed out in con
cert, ‘What for V
‘This long expected law-suit,’ commen
ced Jonas—
•My dear friend,’ interi'upted James—
‘ls’—continued Jonas, ‘setdownfor tri
al.’
‘Good gracious!’ said Mrs. Snake.
‘You dont say so!’ in utter and impudent
contradiction to his own cars, rejoined
James ; and ‘Please give us all six-pence
a-piece before you go.’
‘This letter,’said Jonas, when allowed
to proceed, ‘is from my very respectable
solicitors, who inform me the cause is set
down, and, they are good enough to add,
they have taken the opinion of the attorney,
general, who declares I must win it. In
that cast—but, I know your hearts, and
think what I would sav’—
‘Kind soul,’ sobbed the female Snake.
‘Man of truth, integrity, gem of human
nature, blossom of friendship, and ripe
fruit of honor!’ spasmodically ejaculated
the excited masculine, ‘when will you re
turn?’
‘ln a week.’
‘A week !’ screached Mrs. Snake ; it will
appear a month !’
‘A month !’ groaned Mr Snake, ‘aquar
ler, or a half at least! Bull suppose we
must submit.’
‘Kind souls, I must prepare to start.’
‘Well thought,’ said Mrs. James Snake;
‘what am I idling here for, when dear Mr.
Jonas wants his things?’ Snake, get your
portmanteau, and find Mr. Brown’s com
forter, and fill the small case-bottle with
some white brandy, and send down to se
cure the best place, and cut off the wings
of those cold fowls', and put the oilskin on
liis hat, while I run and put up his shaving
apparatus, and see his carpet-bag properly
packed ; and, children, see what you can
do for your dear Mr. Brown.’ Thus sav
ing, the bustling body hurried away ; in a
short time all was done—Mr. Jonas Brown
wasdulyseen of] - to the coach; the chil
dren, being so directed, screwing their
knuckles into their eyes, and doing some
very promising pantomimic grief, and their
elders and betters ‘good dyeing’ and‘God
blessing,’ with every appearance of some
what disconsolate but very affectionate de
voutness.
‘Now, brats, off to the nursery,’were the
first words -./token, when their respected
sire had returned from his mission ofseeing
Mr. Jonas Brown into the coach.
‘Selina, tny love, come with me.’ Short
ly after the pair were seated in close con
verse.
‘I hope all will go well with Brown, Se
lina.’
‘I hope so, I’m sure ; if it don’t he’s little
better than an old impostor. What is the
paltry hundred a-year he pays us? I’m
sure, if it was’nt for the expectations he
speaks of, I never could or would have put
up with his tiresome, tedious ways.’
‘Nor I, my angel ; I hate the stupid old
frutnp; but if ail goes well our fortune’s
marie, ami we may as well let him remain
with us, as suifcr him out of sight, to be
swindled by some worthless, designing
people, as he doubtless would ho.’
‘That’s so like you, Snake ! You are so
considerate, and have such a heart! Well,
you’ll get your reward some day.’
Thus did the amiable pair converse, and
thousands of castles did they build in the
air, anticipating Mr. Jonas Brown's suc
cess, and their share of his newly-acquired
wealth. At length, a newspaper arrived ; it
contained an account of Mr. Jonas Brown’s
success, and was hailed with the most en- j
thusiastic joy ! Beautiful boquets decor- j
ated the rnantlepiece of his sleeping apart- !
ment, new hangings were instantly attach
ed to the bed, and every little additional
comfort that could be procured was added
to his sitting-room. In a state of the most
nervous excitement they received a letter
from the absent Brown ; it contained hut
a few lines, merely announcing that they
might expect him on that evening. Oh !
wasn’t everything put in apple-pie order !
the table covered with every imaginary
dainty, and a blazing fire ready to receive
dear kind Jonas.
At seven o’clock the coach drew up at
the door of Snake’s house; in one minute
-after Mr. Brown was nearly suffocated
with theembraces of the Snakes, and near
l v deafened by the vociferations of their
tender offspring. Having at length parti
ally recovered his liberty, he divested him
self of his. great coat. and was conducted
to the well-spread board, where all vied in
bidding him welcome —a welcome, they
assured him, as kind as unalterable —a wel
come from the heart, not influenced by his
worldly goods, but by their love for the
man himself.
‘Kind and noble!’ gasped J.onas. ‘I have
much to say to you both.’
‘Not now sir—dear sir, not now,’ inter
posed Snake, ‘eat first and refresh your
self.’
Thus saying, all parties proceeded to fill
up Jonas Brown’s plate ; and, we must con
fess, never did a hungry traveller do more
justice to than did our
worthy friend Jaw \ /’
After some halK .1 this very
pleasant manner, thK , : proceeded to
wash down theexcelleuK Js with a mag
nificent tumbler of branny, punch. After
sipping at it for some time, he commenced
as follows:
‘How can I ever repay you, my kindest!
my dearest—?
‘Oh!’ from Mrs. Snake, with her hand
kerchief to her eyes.
‘Best!’
‘Oh!’ from Mr. Snake, with a thump on
his breast.
‘Most generous friends!’
Here there was a short pause.
Jonus resumed ;
* ‘You have heard the news?’
‘We have—we,’chorused the Snakes.
‘And even that has made no change in
i you, patterns of friendship !’
I ‘Don’t speak of our small merits in that
way. dear, dear, very dear Mr. Brown,’
whined Mr. Snake, pressing his hand ;’ ‘we
have done our duty to our neighbor and
ourself, and we look for no greater reward
than the consciousnessof having done right.’
‘Consciousness of having done right !’—
recapitulated Mr. Snake,seeming to think
the adoption of the last line of the speech
equivalent to the utterance of the aforesaid,
to a long toast.
‘This is too much,’ gasped Jonas.—
‘Snake, you are a man ! Mrs. Snake, I af
firm you are a woman ! No, your are not
—it’s a lie, ma’am; I beg your pardon—a
mistake—you are an angel ! Snake, let me
speak to you alone.’
In a moment the room was cleared ; the
officious Snake refilled his guest’s tumbler,
and sat in a stale of perplexity opposite
him.
‘Ahem!’ coughed Jonas. ‘Snake, may
I believe you when you sav, had f come
hack a loser I should have had as kind a
welcome ?’
‘Oil! Mr. Jonas Brown, sir, for Heaven’s
sake, do not tear and lacerate, and plough
up and harrow, and drill my heart in this
manner, a heart you ought to know a heart
that honors you, hut cares for no man’s
riches.’
‘Worthy man!—excellent Christian !
unrivalled friend !’
‘Friend!’ chimed Snake ; ‘ay, friend’s the
word, Damon loved Pythias, and Snake
loves Brown.’
‘Your hand ?’ gasped Jonas ; ‘I am sat
isfied. I will live with von and your dear
family for ever.’
‘Happiness ! raplure ! joy !’ shouted Mr.
Snake. ‘All wo feared was, after this
change of fortune, you would leave us.’
‘Leave you—never ! though I have had V
a change of fortune.’ /
‘The saints be praised !’ /
‘I have had no change of feeling, /ny
heart is still the same—’ /
‘English oak,’ suggested Snake^/
‘lt is; that’s the material, plough 1
have lost every shilling I had before I com
menced the suit, and the suit itself, yet will
I dwell with you for ever—Bless me Snake
are you ill?’ /
‘And well might Mr. Jon/s Brown ask
the question, for at one particular portion
oftyr. Jonas Brown’s communication, Mr.
Snake’s face became as p/rfect a pea-green,
slightly tinted with purple at the tip of the
nose, as one would desire to see.
‘l’ll !—l’ll go rnadj. distracted !’
‘l’ll ring the hell,’ Said Jonas.
He did so, and in rushed Mrs. Snake
with a plum cake, followed by the children 1
in their best bibs and tuckers, who sff im
mediately proceeded to cling round Mr.
Brown, and hug and kiss, and a-*k his bles
sings and sixpences, with a degree of Spar
tan devotion.
‘Your husband—be quiet, my dears—,s
exceedingly ill. Look how green he is.
‘Green, sir?’ roared Snake: ‘green and
he d—d to you ;do you mean to insult me
by calling ine green to my face, you old
impostor? I have been green, sir, but I’ll
be green no longer.’
‘Snake !’ stammered his better, or hitter
half,’ are you mad?’
‘I am, ma’am!—mad as blazes, ma’am ;
and enough to make me, ma’am.’
‘What’s the cause ?’
‘This, my dear:—Mr. Brown has lost his
lawsuit?’
If the Emperor of the Celestial Empire
were pulled by the pigtail off” his throne of
state by the gentlemen usher of the black
roil (supposing he lias such a functionary,)
he could not exhibit more astonishment than
did the female Snake at this awful announ
cement.
When she found breath enough to form
into words, she gasped out —‘Is it true ?’
‘Perfectly,’ responded the bewildered
Brown ; ‘but don’t let that annoy you. I
shall remain tiere all the same.’
‘Will you !’ gasped out the better half—
not if I know it. Do you think I’ll go on
working and slaving myself to dealh for
such a lump of superannuated self conceit?
Not I, indeed ; nothing but the doctor’s re
port that you were not likely to be a long
liver, and your promise of leaving a legacy
to each of the children, made us put up with
you. Sojust be off, hag and baggage, as
soon as you can.’
‘ls this your determination?’ said poor
Jonas, appealing to the still green and pur
ple Snake.
‘lt is, with this slight alteration—if you
haven’t walked out of the house, in ten min
utes, by the door, 1 pledge myself to chuck
you out of the Window.’
‘My good friends— ’
‘Friends bed and ! thundered Mr.
Snake. ‘What do you mean by hurting
that child’s head, patting it in that manner?
Adolphus, kick his shins.’
‘Hurrah ! here goes,’ exclaimed the du
tiful son ; and poor old Mr. Jonas Brown
manipulated the wounded bone.
‘Allow me,’ said he in an under-tone ;
‘allow me to stay till to-morrow.’
‘There’s five of the ten minutes up; o
pen the window, Adolphus,’ was the only
answer vouchsafed by Snake.
‘l’ve done it, papa, said young hopeful;
‘the one over the pikes.’
‘Now, sir, be off at once. You need not
1 wait for your luggage; that shan’t stir till
I have received my last quarter.’
As bespoke, he advanced to Mr. Jonas
Brown, and laid his hand upon his collar.
Now Mr. Jonas Brown, generally a mild
man, had some of the fighting devil in him,
and in a very short space of time Mr. Snake
was placed flat on his back, In an excel
lent position for examining a small crack
in the ceiling immediately over his head.
Had Babel been recreated and let loose, it
would barely have rivalled the screaming
confusion of tongues which took place then;
and as if to heighten the noise, the hells
struck up a cheerful peal, the sound of
whips anil wheels were hoard at the door,
a thundering double knock astonished the
hall, and a very gentlemanly man entered,
to state, that Mr. Jonas Brown’s carriage
waited to convoy him to his new mansion
house, that he might take possession of it,
and his ample fortune.
‘What is the meaning of all this?’ groan,
ed Snake.
‘That I intended to try ycprf honesty.—
One hour’s more kindness/mder my sup
posed reverses, would have secured you and
that shin-kicking brat an ample indepen
dence. As it is, we part for ever, and this
is the only legacy I shall leave you.’ So
saying, ho M/rote something on a leaf which
ho tore from his cheque-look, and throwing
it down upon the table, est the house.
After a luilf-hour of mental agony, the
husband and wife took up the cheque, anil
found written upon it 111 very legible char- ,
actors—
‘My dear, Mr. Bown has lost his Law 1
Suit.’ ,
LOVE AND LAW.
JY H. HASTINGS WELD.
WlmOenefit can children he
But •• barges and disobedience ? What’s the
Lr e they render, at one and twenty years 1
I
“I won’t! I won’t! I won’t ! I tell you, 1
and it’s no use talking. He’s an impudent, t
blockhead, and 1 11 kick him out, t
just so sure as he. darkens my door again !” 1
“But father!” |
‘But what!’ 1
•You know it is not a twelvemonth, since
he saved your house—’
No such thing !no such thing ! Every
thing was done well enough, every body
was running with water, as fast as they
could, and I was directing them, and up
comes Mr. Burnet, on a walk. He wouldn’t
run, if the town was a-fire. ‘Gentlemen,’
says he, as if that was a time for compli
ments—and they all minded him, without
taking any more notice of me, than if I was
ravin’ mad. He stopped ’em all from run
ning too, as well as himself, and planted
’em all along in rows, like Indian corn—
and— ’
‘Saved your house by his coolness, meth
od, and regularity.’
‘Coolness be hanged ! Coolness at a fire,
to be sure! A pretty pass we have, come
to, when a man sixty y**, s _ old, who has
been selectman ten years, ana re pr , st , n ta
five twice, is to be slighted for a chiciu.
who has not moulted his first coat of feath
ers ! As if a man had no interest in his
own affairs, and could not have his say,
when his own house was burning !’
‘You owe the preservation of your house
to the chicken, nevertheless.”
‘No such thing !no such thing ! And if
I do, I had rather it had burned down, than
that he should have the chance to boast
that he has. And you, too, eternally throw
ing it in my teeth—l’ll set fire to it myself;
I’ll be hanged if I don’t!’
‘You’ll he hanged if you do, father, and
that would be very unpleasant to every bo
dy except your friend, Mr. Giles.’
‘And you—you’d be glad of it, too. i
should be out of the way then, and you
might marry the pettifogging scoundrel !’
‘You know he hates litigation. Pettifog
ging indeed ! Did he not settle your mill
stream suit against Giles, without inflicting
upon you the irritation, delay and cost of a
trial?’
‘There you come again. I wish he had
been drowned in the stream, before he made
the settlement. I hate Giles—and mean to
ruin him. Y T ou knew it—and Burnet knew
it.’
‘He recovered the damages you claimed.’
‘A fig for damages! I told him to chase
Giles—to hunt him to the poor-house,—and
what does he do but persuaded the scamp
tosettle, without so much as saying ‘sheriff!’
to him. Ifhe saved me. cost, he saved
him too, —when I would willingly have
thrown away five thousand dollars, to see
Giles at work on the road.’
‘Two thousand in hand, is better than
seven thousand away.’
‘I dare say, I dare say. So you think—
you expect that you and Mr. Burnet will
he a thousand better off. But you shan’t;
I’ll disinherit you ; I’ll make my will ; I’ll
make it to-day—l’ll make it now.’
‘Shall I send John for Mr. Burnet, fa
ther? You must have a lawyer, you know.’
This was the climax. Mary Williams
had vexed her father to the utmost safe ex
tremity. She left the room, making a pro
vokingly dutiful “curtsy” at the door.—
The old man paced the floor, in an agony
of vexation.
‘l’ll disown her, and adopt Black Sal,
the kitchen girl—l’ll disinherit her, and
give my properly to the Colonization Soci
ety—l’ll never speak to her again: “I’ll
J. UIPI'EL, Printer.
’ turn her out ofdoors ; I’ll go this very in
stant and tell her— ’
I ‘To roast that pair of chickens, or boil
1 them, papa?’
Mary was pretty—and the old man was
partially disarmed by the smiling phiz she
thrust in nt the door:—appeased in spite of
himself, for he was proud of his daughter.
‘Boil them, Mary. I won’t til! after din
ner.’
‘Won’t what, futlier?’
‘Begone ! you undutiful hussy.’
If the reader is a daughter, I need not
tell her that Mary had overheard every
word of her father’s angry soliloquy, ; ifhe
be a father, I need not tell him, that, al
though the old gentleman tried to persuade
himself he was in earnest, his threats were
quite as Ifkely to be put into execution, as
the comet is to brush away this world of
ours. And Marv knew it. Such skirmish
es between the father and daughter were
diurually repeated—things ofcourse, like
the encounters between Commodore Trun.
nion and Tom Pipes. There was, however,
ibis difference, —ihe ex nautical belliger
ents sparred in public ; Old Williams and
his daughter held their discussions in pri
vate. We canncft commend the conduct of
Mary in thus harrassing her father; hut
if good ever come out of evil, it certainly
dnl in these domestic differences. Asa
thunder-storm clears and purifies the atmos
phere, so the air of their afternoon and eve
ning fire-sides was materially improved by
the storms of the morning. The old gen
tleman sallied out, after giving Mary the
last word, which, unlike a majority of her
sex, she always allowed him, and was in
variably in good humor at dinner-time.—
The motto of the afternoon, in reference to
the altercation of the morning, was
Oh no ! we never mention it—
And father Williams suffered himself to be
read peaceaniy iu i.;, arm-chair.
It, upon waking, he should even discover
Burnet in the rooni-a thing, by the way, of
no unfrequent occurrence ; the placid feel
ings which wait upon temperance and a
good digestion had hitherto made him civil
to his daughter s guest, or at least reserve
his wrath, to be poured upon Mary’s head
the next day. And, like a dutiful daugh
ter, we have seen how she endured her pa
rent’s way erd humors. Her mother had
been dead for years, and, but for the man
ner in which Mary filled her place in vex
ing her father, she would, long before, have
been an orphan. True it was, she was
more than a daughter to him, compelling
him to forget, while she tormented him, that
the old but of his caprices, his wife, was si
lent.
With subtle cobweb cheats,
i ney’ve stepped in the law like nets,
Li which, when once they are embrangled,
The more ‘hey stir, the more they’re tangled.
W . ,ip seen how religiously Mr. Wil
liams iim •] a certain person with whom he
h ;d some law embrangiements ; and, sooth
1 say, his aversion had good anil sufficient
grounds. Giles was one of those detestable
.uiimals to ho met with in almost every
community, who are never happy but when
in litigation. Every thought had some
connexion with what Blackstone terms the
“perfection of human reason,” but it was
only upon the imperfections of that perfec
tion rii—t ] IP studied to perfect himself—or
rather, in wm,u >, e liked l 0 dabble. Ob
serve it when you win, whose names
are oftenest found with a “t is.” ffofoj are
those who are least acquainted witfi
wholesome and necessary enactments of
the law. Every window which looked u
pon any part of Giles’s estate was darkened
with a dead Wall, —the branches of every
fruit tree which overhung his ground, from
his neighbor’s enclosures, were plucked of
their produce, or sawed off’ even with the
fonci To look upon his land was almost
a trespass; to step upon it quite one. Ho
knew the path to the pound better than that
to the church —as his neighbors’ cattle
could witness. Ncycontract was binding
with him, unless it. Avas duly signed, wit
nessed and acknowledged. For such a
man, our friend Williams, quick and strong
in his passions, Hnd frank to hi outness,
could entertain no feelings hut disgust in
the abstract, when he found himself actual
ly entangled jn/the toils of the wily knave,
he was furious
It is unnecessary to go into the details of
the dispute;?: is sufficient to say that Wil
liams was clearly in the right, and Giles as
clearly in tie wrong ; as the reader will
surmise fruhi their respective characters.
The latter had presumed upon the known
dislike oflhe former for litigation ; but his
bold attefhpt at villany was foiled by the
angerof Willialms, who immediately, and
fertile firsttime in hislife, appealed to the
law. To avoid, as much as possible, a bu
siness for which he had an unconquerable
loathing, he committed the whole affair to
Burnet, With full power to manage it at his
discretion—only signifying his wish that
not a point should be yielded, but that Gile6
should be rung out of his last dollar, if pos
sible, by appeal, continuation,or any other
means. Burnet chose the moredirecl way
of adjusting the matter by compromise, to
which Giles, who found he had caught a
Tartar, readily assented ; but Burnet was
astonished to find his services so ill appre
ciated, that, upon hearing the result, Wil
liams transferred his dislike from liis oppo
nent to his attorney. The old gentleman
had made a sort of merit of his intention to
beergar his antagonist, and, in his rage at
being disappointed, flatly and directly
charged the lawyer with having been the
accomplice of Giles, in an attempt to itTw
[VOLUME XXVIII.
