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NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
D. €r. COTTIxIICrf, Editor.
No. 41.—NEW SERIES. J
NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
terms:
Published weekly at Three Dollars per annum
if paid at the time of subscribing; or Three
Dollars anil Fifty Cents, if not paid till tho expi
ration of sjx months.
No paper to be discontinued, unless at the
option of the Editor, without tho settlement of
all arrearages.
ET Litters, on business, must hr post pet id,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, Scvcnty.fi re Cents; and foreikh sub
’ sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduction will
be made of twenty-live per cent, to these 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 manner, forty days.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate
must be published forty days.
Notice that application will be made to the i
Court of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Ne
groes, must be published for four months—
notice that application will be made for Letters
of Administration, must be published thirty days;
and Letters of Dismission, six months.
Mail Arrangements.
POST OFFICE, >
Washington, Get., January, 1843. \
AUGUSTA MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M.
CLOSES.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at 12, M.
MILLEfDGEVILLE MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. i
CLOSES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M.
CAROLINA MAIL.
ARRIVES. /
Mondty, Wednesday, and Friday, at ft, A. M.
CLOSES.
Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 6, 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 8, P. M.
LINCOLNTON MAIL.
ARRIVES- CLOSES.
Friday, at 12, M. j Friday, at 12, M.
vestas at. sara m.
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
:! j ’ Office in Mr. Barnett’s new building, North
west corner of the Public Square.
Washington, Wilkes county, Ga., )
* December 22, 1842. £ 17
COTTING Sc BUTLER,
ATTORNIES,
HAVE taken an OFFICE in the rear of
Willis & Hester’s Store.
January, 1843. 28
Dentistry*
JOHN A. CLEVELAND, Dentist, expects
to be in Washington in the course of two
or three weeks. May 25,1843.
New Goods.
The Subscriber has receive.! fit m New.
York and Charleston, a splendid
assortment of
Staple and Fancy
Adapted to the present and approaching
Season. Also, a general assortment of
Hardware and Cutlery, Hats,
Boots, Shoes, Bonnets, Sadlery,
Drugs Sc Medicines, Paints, Oils,
Groceries and Confectionary-
All of which will be sold on the mot:: rea
sonable terms for Ca . <.r Credit.
A. A. CLEVELAND.
Washington, Ga., May 25, 1843. 4t
To Tax Payers*
*- rTIHE Receiver of Tax Returns is required
-1. by law to deliver a copy of the Digest of
Taxable Property to the Clerk of the Inferior
Court on or before the first day of July : I here
by give notice, that the Receiver’s Book will be
closed on the 20lh day of June—those who are
yet in default will do well to make their returns
by that time. I will attend in Washington on
the first Tuesday in June—also, on Tuesday and
Wednesday the 13th and 14th days of June, for
the purpose of receiving Returns of Taxable
property. G. G. NORMAN,
R.T. R., Wilkes countv. j
May 25,1843. 39
GEORGIA, ) Whereas, Zadock Smith, ad-
Wilkes County. £ ministrator on the Estate of
James Boatwright, deceased, applies to me for
letters of Dismission.
These are therefore to cite, summon, and ad
monish all and singular the kindred and creditors
of said deceased, to be and appear at my office
wJhiii the time prescribed by law, to shew cause
(if any they have,) why said letters should not be
granted.
Given under mv hand at Office, this 24th day
of May, 1843. JOHN 11. DYSON, c. c. o.
Mnv 25- m6m 39
BOOTS AND SHOES.
100 pr. Kip peg’d. Brogans, at SI to 1 .121, cts.
100 “ Call, Lasting, and Morocco Gaiter Shoes,
from $2 to 2 00 cts. per pair, a fine ar
ticle, and made to order.
15 dozen Ladies’ Kui Suppers and fancy Chine
Buskins at $1 to 1 25.
Ladies’ CaJf and Kid walking Shoes,
Children’s Brogans and Slippers, of nearly
every variety.
Just received and lor sale by
• HEARD & BROTHER
June 1, 1843.
Georgia Msukeesas.
100 pieces Georgia Nankeens, at SI 12Jceu;.
a piece. Just received and for sale by
HEARD & BROTHEK.
June 1,1843. 40
Molasses, kc.
15 barrels New-Orleans Moiasses,
Cider and White-wine Vinegar,
Ginger, Pepper, and Allspice,
Weeding iloes, Scythe Blades,
Collins’ Axes, Trace Chains,
In Store and for sale low for Cash, bv
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
Bleached Sheetings
A superior article, of 12-4 Sea-Island,
“ -“ “ “ 12-4 Linen Sheetings
at 87j cents per vard. For sale by
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1, 1843. 40
Mails ! Kfails I
>25 kegs Nails just received, and for sale at
7 cents per pound bv the keg.
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
Sheetings and Shirtings.
12 bales Brown Sheetings and Shirtings, just
received and for sale at 5 to 10 cts. per yard, by
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1, 1843. 40
CANDLES: CANDLES l
5 boxes best Sperm Candles, at 33 cts. per lb. !
10 “ Hull & Sons best Patent Candles, at 17 j
cents per pound, just received and*for i
sale by HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843! 40
Sugar and Coffee.
6 Ilhds. best New-Orleans Sugar <ft 8 cts. per
pound,
2 Ilhds. 2d quality do. at 7 cents per lb.
2,000 lbs. Rio and Java Coffee, at 12£ cents.
1,000 “ Refined Loaf Sugar, at 12A “
1,000 “ best Steam-refined Sugar at 14£ cents,
Just received and for sale by
HEARD &l BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
m&m*
20 cases latest style Hats, consisting of biack
fasionable Fur, Silk and Cassiinere,
Black and white Broad-brim Hats, just received
and will be sold at 25 per cent, below the
ordinary prices, by
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1.1843. 40
•/ttasosne Celebration
vF* The members of the
* iL'* Philomathea Lodge,
All J will assemble at their
Hall, in Elbert on, on Sat
urday the 24th day of
■'‘ l jr r y i if?r! June next,*A. L. 5843, at
11 o’clock, A.M., whence
r *J} j
cession to the Methodist Church, where an Ad
dress will be delivered by one of the Brethren.
Tho Brethren of the neighboring Lodges and
Chapters—also, transient and visiting Brethren,
are particularly invited to join the procession
with their proper badges and jewels, and the
citizens genera liv are invited to attend at the
Church.
W. B. BOWEN, Secretary.
May 18,1843. 38
ADMIN I STM ATOIt’S SALE.
“'OU’ILL be -old on Thu today the tw.-nty
* * second day of June next, at tho late •ea:-
dence of ('.lnborn Sandidgc, deceased, in Eloert I
county, ail the Perishable i'i vrty (except the !
Negroes,) belonging to the Estate of said de- j
ceased, consisting of Horses, Cows, Hogs, Sheep, !
Corn, Fodder, Household and Kitchen Furni- i
ture, Plantation Tools, and’many other ard-des j
not here mentioned. Sale to continue from day I
to day until all is sold. Terms will be made
known on the day of sale.
JAMES M. SANDIDGE, ), .
ANDREW J. SANDIDGE, ( A v ‘
May 3, 1813. eow-lt 37
GUARDIAN’S SALE.
WILL be sold on the first Tuesday in July
nexi, before the Court-House dour in the
Town oi Warrenton, Warren county, between
the legal hours of sale, the following property,
to-wit : ..
ot a Tract of Land, containing
three Acres, more or less, lying in the
counties of Warren and Taliaferro, situated on
the waters of Beaverdam Creek, adjoining lands
ot R. V. Asburv and others, belonging to the
minors of Joseph W. Luckett, late of Wilkes
county, deceased—to-wit, Patrick H. and Robert
E. Luckett—for the benefit of said minors.
HUGH WARD, Guardian.
May 1,1843. 9t 36
ADMINISTRATOR’S SALE.
All I” ILL lie sold on the first Tuesday in Au
** gust next, before the Court-House door
m Franklin county, agreeable to an order of the
Inferior Court of Elbert county, while sitting as
a Court of Ordinary, two Tracts of LAND in
Franklin county, one of said Tracts containing
two hundred and six Acres, more or less, adjoin
ing lands of Samuel McCollum and others; the
other Tract containing one hundred Acres, more
or less, adjoining lands of John Ballenger and
others. Sold as a part of the Lands belonging
to the Estate o. Thomas Haynes, deceased.—
Terms will be made known on the day of sale.
LETTY HAYNES, 1 . , ,
BENJAMIN THORNTON, Jr. ( Adm rs
May 25, 18*13. m2t 39
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING.
WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTY, GA.,) JUNE 8, 1813.
JfttecrUauroHSi,
PAUL PLIANT,
OR THE MAN WHO COULDN'T
SAY NO.
BV THE AUTHOR OF YANKEE NOTIONS.
Two negatives, they say, make an afiir
motive Therefore I think it’s safe to sup
pose :lm t Paul Pliant’s father and mother
must bit’ * been ns negative a pair as ever
came together, for Paul was the most affir
i *iii.M* n,*n tlicit has yet been heard of.—
tie i ways said ves’ to every thing that
was said, proposed, suggested, insinuated,
or, hinted to him. He was a true ‘admin
istration man under all governments, nev
er-being in the opposition He was one of
diese over polite, over good natured, oh-be
easv aequiescent mortals, who seem to be
sent into the world for no other purpose
than to show how much a man may suffer
for want of a little contra mindedness.—
‘Yes.’ ‘Certainly.’ ‘By all means.’
‘No doubt of it.’ ‘ With all my heart.’
‘ Very happy to oblige you.’ ‘ Entirely at
your service.’ ‘Oh yes.’ ‘Oh yes.’ ‘Oh
yes.’ Such were Paul’s constant replies.
| As to saying ‘ no,’ it was as impossible to
get it out, as Macbeth’s ‘ Amen !’ When
he had most need of denying, it stuck in his
throat. I don’t know that he ever satin
the Legislature, but I am sure that if ever
he did, when the ‘ yeas had it,’ they had
Paul also. He would not have cried 1 Nie
Poswatam’ in the Polish diet, if the words
could have demolished the partition treaty.
Though he was not in the opposition, yet I
think it hardly correct to call him a Jack
son man, for he never vetoed any thing in
his life, unless in the style of the honest
country representative, ‘Mr. Speaker, I
shall give my veto in favor of this hill.’— *
In short, Paul was the very pink of assen
tients—an incarnation of nem con.
Now this is a very good character for a
man to bear, on some accounts, for it gets
one the reputation of a good natured fellow,
and as the world commonly pretends to
have a high opinion of a good natured fel
low, and according to the proverb ‘ opinion
is the queen of the world,’ the reader may
think Paul muA have had a happy time of
it. No such tiling. Paul’s good nature
brought him embarrassments and
vexations titan if he had been the crossest
cur that ever snarled. I speak not of lend
ing umbrellas—’tis the lot of mortality.—
To lend money is about the same, though
money lent sometimes comes back. But
who would believe that a good natured man,
merely by reason of his good nature, and
for no other fault under the sun, could be
ied througli such a rigmarole dance of ad
venture by the perversity of fortune, that j
he fought a duel and almost married a wi
dow !
The widow Wilful was a lady - of a cer
tain made the best of time, and
time returned the compliment. Sim had
shed many tears for the loss of her good
man ; so she protested, and I cannot help
thinking she spoke the truth, for she tried
very hard to get another. However, this
did not prove so easy a matter, for although
she was not without charms, the men were
shy. What could he the reason? She
gave splendid parties, and had sparks and
danglers without number, but it was"never
a match. What could be the reason ? the
reader will ask again.
It is not exactly my business to tell, as
the story will be plain enough without it,
and if the reader cannot guess, it would not
much help him to let out the whole mys
tery.
‘ This is truly delightful’ said Paul, one
evening, to the widow, as he leaned his arm
over the back of the chair, worked his face
up to the blandest of all his acquiescent
smile -, and essayed some flattering compli
ment concerning the widow’s fine entertain
mi nt: ‘ This is truly delightful ; so much
hilarity and cheerfulness—so many happy
faces. I iove to look on them.’
Paul inadvertently raised his eyes as he
tittered these words, and at the close of the
spe> eh was looking straight into the wid
ow’s face tie meant not the least harm in
tise world ; bat the widow pretended to
blush. She pursed up her pretty mouth.
1 Oh, Mr. Pliant, you are a great flatter
’ cut we know you are honest. You nev
ay cue thing and mean another.’
‘ Certainly by all means, my dear mad
am.’
‘But really, Mr. Pliant, my dear sir,
when a gentleman tells a lady that he loves
to look on her, you know that really is sig
nificant.’
‘ Oh yes, certainly ; you are quite right,
madam.’
‘ Well, you are frank, Mr. Pliant, and I
shall certainly give you credit for sinceri
ty. Another man might say ten times as
much and I should never think of regarding
it; but 1 know I can rely upon the word of
so honorable a gentleman as Mr. Paul Pli
ant.’
‘ Holy on my word,’ surely you may,
Mrs Wilful. I should be sorry if ’
‘Oh, don’t mention it my dear sir. I
never doubted for a moment; certainly you
never would have hinted any thing like an
attachment unless you had been sincere.’
‘Certainly, ma’am,’ replied Paul, in
great amazement, with the conjecture how
he had been so unlucky as to say more
than he meant; for Paul would as soon
have thought ofjumping out of a steeple as
of telling widow Wilful he felt an attach
ment for her. ‘Certainly, by all means,’ j
he continued to repeat mechanically, ‘ Oh ;
yes, certainly.’
‘ Pray, Mr. Pliant, he so good as to band :
me a glass of water ; really, the room is so
warm—just reach your hand.’
‘Certainly, madam ; my hand is entire
ly at your service.’ Paul was in such a
flutter that he was not aware what he was
uttering till the words were past recall.—
‘ Bless me ! what have I said !’ thought he
to himself. But it was too late.
‘ Oh, Mr. Pliant, said she, blushing up to
the ears, you are too generous. I mean
you are almost too precipitate. Now, were
it any other man, I should suspect him of
trifling. But such a matt as Mr. Pliant— ’
‘ Confound the jade !’ quoth Paul to him
self, ‘ how shall I get out of the scrape ?
I hope she isn’t going to faint. Mrs. Wil
ful—madam—you know I say a thousand
things of this sort. I can’t help it, you
know.’
‘That’s just as I always supposed, Mr.
Pliant; a man of your sincerity and frank
ness, can’t help uttering his true senti
ments. Ah ! 1 like the honest man of all
things ! Oh, Mr. Pliant, you are an honest
man.’
‘ Now this is too bad,’ thought Paul, in
great tribulation. What shall I say ? ‘My
dear madam, I certainly wish to be honest.
Compliments, you know, are compliments;
but when a man means nothing—vou
know ’
‘Certainly, Mr. Plant, you are quite
right. When a man means nothing, lie
should say nothing. 1 knew those were
your sentiments. Wasn’t I right?’
‘Oh yes, by all means; quite right,’
returned Paul in deeper embarrassment
than ever. He found himself fairly caught;
the widow’s eyes sparkled, and she lan
guished three times at him. ‘ I won’t speak
another word,’ said he to himself-— ‘ it only
makes the matter worse.’ He snatched a
cup of whipped cream and pretended to eat
it.
The widow saw his embarrassment, and
whether she suspected his determination to
resist all further attempts to entangle him
or not, we do not exactly know ; but she
was resolved not to let him escape. A si
lence of some moments followed, till Paul
finding he could not decently hold his
tongue any longer, cast about for something
innocent to say. After some hesitation up
on a variety of topics, he judged it safe to
admire the carpet —from the carpet, a nat
ural transition was made to the pictures,
and from the pictures to the window cui
tains ; the window curtains led to the arm
chair, the arm chair to the sofa, and the
sofa toa pair of little babies in alabaster on
the chimney place.
‘Charming! Delightful ! exclaimed
Paul;’ not exactly knowing whether he
meant to lie understood of the arm chair, or
some other article of furniture.
‘ An’t they ?’ said the widow.
1 What have I said again ?’ quoth Paul to
himself, baginning to tremble with appre
hension. ‘ The furniture is in good taste,
Mrs. Wilful ; very elegant—very fine.’
‘All vanity, Mr. Pliant, said the widow,
affecting a very solemn look—‘these things
are all vanity.’
‘ Oh yes—you are quite right—all vani
ty, replied Paul, taking a spoonful of whip
ped cream, and finding that he had got no
thing in Ids mouth.
• Ail! Mr. Pliant!’ said the widow lan
guishingly.
‘ Yes, exactly so,’ returned Paul.
• Exactly how, Mr. Plant, pardon me. 1
did not perceive the drift of your observa
tion.’
‘ Beg pardon, ma’am ; I was only saying
—as you remarked, that everything was
remarkably fine in this house'of yours, and
that all is vanity or rather I should say,
that one thing is needful.’
‘ Ah, Mr. Pliant, I understand you ; you
mean the furniture is complete except one
article?’
‘ Exactly so. Y'es ; tlmt is—if you think
any tiling is wanting, replied Paul in con
siderable perturbation, and glad to escape
the appearance of finding fault, by any sort
of equivoque.
The widow clapped her handkerchief to 1
her face, and exhibited, or pretended to ex- 1
hibit, a slight emotion. ‘My dear Mr.
Plant,’said she, in a tender voice, ‘it is
impossible not to understand you. Y r ou
mean a hus-husband ?’
‘ A husband !’ exclaimed Paul,
by the audacious boldness of the sugges
tion.
‘ I know you meant so,’ returned the wid
ow, sinking into the chair. ‘ Oil my dear
sir, I feel quite over-embarrassed.’ Paul’s
intellects were in such a cloudy state at
this moment that he thought she was about
to faint. He caught her hand, and was j
just going to call for hartshorn, when she
opened her eyes with an appearance of
greater languor. I
‘ Oh, Mr. Pliant! the sincerity of this a
vowal—you are sincere, Mr. Pliant.’
‘ Certainly—yes,’ exclaimed Paul, for he I
could say nothing else : he was a lost man.
Tho widow kept fast hold of his hand.—
Paul struggled to say something—he felt
how desperately he was situated. ‘ Mrs. 1
Wilful,’ said he in great agitation ; ‘ldo
not wish you to be deceived ; the fact is, I
must speak plainly.’
‘ My dear Mr. Pliant, I never thought you
a deceiver. Oh! there arc some men who i
are so deceiving!’
Paul was at his last gasp as tho widow
uttered this pathetic exclamation. ‘ I must
see the matter right this moment,’ thought
he ‘or it will be all over with me !’ He
threw himself into an attitude of earnest
entreaty. ‘ Listen to me one moment mad
am!’ said he, with as much firmness of
voice as ho was master of—but luckless
i man ’ His foot catching in the hearth rug,
tossed him upon his knees in an instant, and
the attention of the whole company being
aroused by the fall, every body looked a
round, and beheld Paul in supplication at
the widow’s feet. He remained transfixed
with horror and vexation, for two-thirds of
a minute, and (hen, without uttering a word,
niadc a leap for the door, and bolted out of
the house.
The next day, Paul’s adventure was the
talk of the town, and the congratulations
and condolence which he received from his
friends on his engagement to the widow ]
Wilful, almost drove him stark mad. Paul
mv dear fellow, I give you joy ; but who
would have thought you had the courage to j
doit?’ ‘Paul, how could you have the I
courage to do such a thing ?’ ‘ Paul, 1
wish you much happiness ; but widows are j
such cunning things !’ ‘ Paul, it’s all over
with you, then !’ &c. Such were the salu
tations to which he was subjected for a j
week ; ay, for nine days ; for so long must
a wonder be allowed to last, especially !
when it gives people a privilege to remind ,
a man of his misfortunes. As to denying :
the thing, that, of course, was out of the |
question with Paul ; besides, had not a
whole house-full of people seen him on his
knees before the widow ? and did not tho
whole town affirm that it was certainly a
match ? Paul gave up in despair all
thoughts of gainsaying or denial, and only
hoped that some lucky accident would pop
in between him and the dreadful catastro
phe.
‘ Well, Paul, my conquering lu ro. whet: !
is to he tile happy day V asked his friend
Tom Sly, with a look compounded of r* .
ish sarcasm and good natured concern
‘ O yes, a very happy (lav it w ill he <•< >
tainly, returned Paul, shrugging up In
shoulders.
‘ Pretty soon. I suppose.’
‘ Oh ves—soon enough, no doubt of that
eh!’ ‘
‘ Left it all pretty much to her, eh ?
Well, that’s quite right; women love to
have their way, hey, Paul ?’
‘Exactly so, as you say,’ replied Pan! I
with a half-suppressed groan.
‘ The widow is certainly a fine womo
said Tom, with an almost malicious loo:-,
of condolence.
Paul made a very low bow, and a *
desperate attempt to look smiling at tin
compliment.
1 Mad a husband three years ago—died j
one day, poor man !’
‘ What ailed him ?’ said Paul, w ishing to
turn the conversation, but feeling at the j
same time an awkward sort of interest in
the topic.
‘ They say she pinched hint to d-vith.’ j ,
‘ Horrid !’ exclaimed Paul, with an In- !
voluntary shudder.
‘Though I don't altogether believe
returned Tom, in a tone as if he only said | (
it to comfort his friend Paul. It was a j
great deal worse than if lie had said noth |
ing at all ; but probably this was just the j ,
thing he meant.
‘Thank ye,’ said Paul, with an air of
dolorous resignation.
Here they were interrupted by the en
trance of Strut. More friendly
congratulations, I suppose, thought Paul to
himself, in heroic resignation.
‘ I believe I have the honor to address
Mr. Paul Pliant,’ said the Colonel, march
ing with stately port, and in double com
mon time up to Paul, and planting himself
bolt upright before his face.
‘At your service, entirely,’ said Paul,
with meek and measured civility.
‘And Mr. Pliant, I presume,’ continued
the Colonel, making half a how, and screw
ing up his martial features into an apology
for a civil smile, ‘is to marry the widow
Wilful ?’
* O yes, certainly—that is—so they say
‘ Then, sir, I have only to say,’ said tin
Colonel, lifting himself up as high as possl j
ble and twisting his fore finger into one u
his formidable black whiskers, that consid
ering myself supplanted, beguiled, and cir- |
eumvented by you, 1 apprehend you are
ready to give me such satisfaction as the .
laws of honor require.’
‘ Certainly, sir, with great pleasure,’re
plied Paul. j
‘Then, sir, I shall desire the pleasure of I
your qpmpany on the other side of the State,’ ! *
returned the Colonel, in the civilest tone ;
possible. ‘ Pistols, I suppose, would be
your preference ?’
‘ Pistols !’ said Paul, in a tone which he I
meant for an ejaculation of surprise.
‘ Very well,’ said the Colonel, without
giving time for guy further explanation.—
‘ Here are the terms of the meeting, which :
I trust you will find perfectly agreeable, j
So saying, he handed a paper to Paul, who
received it, and ran it over with his eyes, 1
without having self-possession enough to
gather the meaning of a particle of its con
tents.
‘ Perfectly agreeable, certainly,’ said
Paul, in his usual asserting way. The
Colonel turned upon his heel, and stalked
off.
Paul’s good friend Tom snatched the
document and read—Pistols—ten a. m.— 1
thirty paces—seconds to mark out the ‘
ground—no interference till third shot—
surgeons for two—mortally wounded, &c. (
‘ VVhy, Paul, do you know you are to
fight a duel ?’
‘..Am I?’ said Paul, ‘ then Heaven he ‘
praised, there is still a hope left; for if 1 1
am shot to death, I shall escape marrying
the widtSw !’
When Paul arrived at the field of action
on the eventful day. he fouud his spirits a ! ’
Iff . J . It A PPEL, Printer.
1 great deal firmer than he had expected. In
fact, lie felt inspired by the greatness of the
| occasion, and very naturally ; for when a
! man knows he must be either shot or mar
j r cd, lie rfiust be aware that the crisis re
j quires all his fortitude. Paul took his sta
; tion, with the most bloodless intention that
I ever prompted a man of buttle. ‘I had
much rather be killed than kill.’ thought
| he.
‘ Ono-two-three,’ said the seconds, as
Paul raised his pistol to about forty-seven
j degrees of elevation. ‘Fire! bang!’—
i Phe Colonel’s bullet whistled by Paul’s
! left ear,and Paul’s hit the steeple of a mar
i tin-box on the top of an adjoining barn.
Twice more were the pistols tried, w hen
1 the seconds interfered ; the Colonel dcclar
| ed lie was satisfied, and they sltook hands,
thereby show ing that Paul Pliant by shoot
ing three times in the face of the blessed
| sun, had proved that he ‘ never supplant
! ed, beguiled, and circumvented,’ theaforc-
I said Colonel Strut; for so it is laid down
j in the ‘code of honor.’
It seemed now to be all over with Paul,
j ‘ I must he married then,’ said he to him
self—‘killing won’t save me.’ The day
w a- fixed, and his fate appeared inevitable.
The nearer it approached, the less he felt
resigned to it. The day before the wed
ding, Paul met Doctor Bindmetight, the
w orthy parson who was to join hint to his
bonny bride.
•Doctor,’ said Paul, ‘how shall I es.
< ape ?’
* .Marriage,’ said the Doctor, in his most
- hi;.: * *umentative way, ‘is considered
ait authorities, ecclesiastical, political.
: * hieal, legal, and judicial, as a bond or
c venunt, entered into by the mutual con
sent and ugrrenunt of the two parties.—
I iierefore I am decidedly of opinion, that
w h**n the c- ; mony is to take place, nnd I
■. ‘und th* i ular question, ‘ Will you
<• ‘V .* woman for your wife ?’ * No,’ —
■ marriage by no manner of means.
- do it. said Paul, mournfully,
‘1 • ‘v.f it a hundred times, but the
word always sti:,.*!: in my throat. There
is a spell upon hr in matters of denying ;
1 must assent to every thing. Iw as born
w ithout the capacity to do otherwise. Ask
f I have got three heads, 1 believe I
should sav yes.’
* Then you always say yes ?’
‘ \ s, always, certainly.’
* ad bye, friend Pan,,’said the i! dor
civ illy touching his hat.
‘ Mercy on me,’ exclaim ! , i'i.ant.
Then was such a tam out among the holies
the next day ! 1 wish I had been thereto
see it. Trinity church was thronged, for
every body knew Paul Pliant nnd the ac
quaintance of widow Wilful comprised
nearly the whole of that circle w hich calls
itself ‘good society.’ I wish, moreover, I
had the talent of the immortal author oi
Clarissa Hariowe at describing feathers
and lutestring ; then would 1 toll how mag
nificently the widow was decked out. But
this cannot be done. Every thing was as
it should be—in the judgment of the world.
The ‘ happy pair drove to church, along
string of coaches followed the m ; the w id
ow blushed and ‘ smiled,’ and all the world
was gay. Was ever a bridegroom in a
state of more inexplicable awkwardness?
lie debuted with himself for a moment,
whether he should not make a desperate
effort, take to his heels and run—but it was
too late.
Paul cast a longing, lingering look be
hind him as he entered the church door.—
‘ Farewell blessed light of heaven !’ said
he to himself, ’tis the last time 1 shall ever
see you a free man !’ The widow held him
fast by the arm.
‘ My dear Paul,’said she, ‘here we are
at last.’
‘ Y'es,’ replied Paul, with a groan.
‘ We are all readyg’ said the bridemaids.
‘ Dearly beloved, began Doctor Bindem
••gki : Paul felt his heart beat terribly.
‘ One minute more, and there will be no
remedy,” thought lie. He looked most im
ploringly at the doctor, as much as to say,
‘ can you be so cruel ?’ The doctor made
an awful pause before the great question.
Paul’s heart beat faster than ever. ‘ Now
for the catastrophe !’ said he. The doctor
gave Paul a keen look ; everybody’ was
breathless. At length he spoke :
“ Do you refuse this woman to be your wife!’
1 Yes!’ exclaimed Paul in the loudest
tone he was ever known to utter. In an
instant the idea flashed upon his m nd that
he was free.* lie sprang into ;1 broad
aisle with thequicknessoflightru'n:', knock
ing down an old gentleman in spectacles,
burst through the crowd, and bolt, and into the
street. He ran home without stopping,
and it was not till he had locked himself
within his own chamber, that he felt certain
that he was not married to widow Wilful.
There was a terrible scene at the cluvclt,
with fainting and so forth ; hut the widow
is alive to this day, aril when she finds an
other man who can’t say ‘ n site may
play again the game which had nearly en
trapped poor Paul Pliant.
The New York Commercial Advertiser
relates an anecdote of Mr. Arkwright, who
died a short time since in England, leaving
behind him a fortune of some forty millions
of dollars. He always assembled his chil
dren at the Christmas dinner, according to
the English custom. His family was large
consisting of several married sons and
daughters ; but on oneChristmas day, when
they sat down to dinner, every one of the
children found under his or her plate u
Bank of England note for a hundred thou
sand pounds. Ah admirable vauve, that,-
for the roast bet* 1 .
[VOLUME XXVIII.
