News & planters' gazette. (Washington, Wilkes County [sic], Ga.) 1840-1844, March 23, 1843, Image 1
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.