Newspaper Page Text
- - - -
NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
D.. (JOTTING, Editor.
No. 43.—NEW SERIES.]
NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
teems:
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
Option of the ti litor, without the settlement of
All arrearages.-
’ ST Litters, on business, must be postpaid, to
insure attention. No communication shall be
miblishedi unless we are made acquainted with
tft name of the author.
TO ADVERTISERS.
Advertisements, not exceeding one square, first j
insertion, Secenty-fue Cents; and for each rid,’- |
sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduct i, li i
be made of twenty-five per cent, to there who i
advertise by the year. Advertisement net ‘
limited when handed in, will be inserted till for- ;
bid, and charged accordingly.
Sales of Land and Negroes b\ Executor?-, Ad
ministrators and Guardians, are required by law,
to Be advertised, in a public Gazette, sixty days
previous to the day ol sale.
The sales of Personal Properly must be adver
tised in like manner, forty days.
Notice to’Debtors and Creditors of an Estate
inust be published forty days.
Notice that application will bo made to the
Court of Ordinary, tor leave to sell Land or Ne
groes, must bo published for four month.' —
notice that application will be made for Letters
of Administration, must- be published thirty days;
and Letters of Dismission, sex months.
Mail Arra&gcmc a&ia.
POST OFFICE, \
Washington, Ga., January, 1643. $
AUGUSTA MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M.
CLOSES.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at I'd, M. ;
MILLEDGEVILLE MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M.
CLOSES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M. |
CAROLINA MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Mondiy, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, 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. | Thursday, at 8, P. M. ;
LINCOLNTON MAIL.
ARRIVES. CLOSES. ■ ’
Friday, at 12, M. j Friday, at 12, M.
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
O’ Office in Mr. Barnett’s new building, North
west corner of the Public Square.
Washington, Wilkes county, Ga., )
December 22, 1842. $ 17
COTTING & BUTLEit,
ATTORNIES,
HAVE taken an OFFICE in the rear of
Willis & Hester’s Store.
January, 1843. 28
CANDLES: CANDLESS
5 boxes best Sperm Candles, at 33 cts. per lb.
It) “ Hull & Sons best Patent Candles, at 17
cents per pound, just, received and for
sale by HEARD &. BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
Sugar and Coffee.
6Hhds. best Now-Orleans Sugar at Sets, per
pound,
2 Hhds. 2d quality do. at 7 cents per lb.
2,000 lbs. Rio and Java Coffee, at 12J cents.
1,000 “ Refined Loaf Sugar, at 12-f “
1,000 “ best Steam-refined Sugar at 14 A cents,
Just received and for sale by
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
Coach Jftahinff*
1 1’HE Subscriber having procured the servi
ces of Mr. N. Long, is now prepared to do
any kind of work in the above business.
Tv” Repairing of every Description,
done at the shortest notice, and on the most
reasonable terms.
ANDREW H. CALDWELL.
June 8, 1843. 4t 41
AN ORDINANCE,
Passed by the Board of Commissioners of
the Town of Washington, June 10, 1843.
TT is hereby ordered by the Board of Commis
-*■ sioners of the Town of Washington, that all
persons owning DOGS within the Corporate
limits, be compelled to keep them within the
limits of their own Lots for the period of Thirty
Days, or in default thereof, it shall be the duty
of the Marshal to kill all such as may be run
ning at largo in the Public Streets.
Extract from the Minutes of the Board, this
L 10th June, 1843.
ROYLAND BEASLEY, Secretary.
June 15. 42
FOUR months after date, application will be
made to the Honorable the Inferior Court
of Elbert county, while sitting as a Court of Or
dinary, for leave to sell all the Lands belonging
to the Estate of John S. Higginbotham, deceas
ed, late of Elbert county, this 26th April, 1843.
JOHN G. HIGGINBOTHAM, ) , , ,
JOSEPH SE WELL, 1 Adm rs
May 4, 1843. m4m 36
months after date, Will be
-*■ made to the Honorable Inferilßiourt of
Wilkes county, while,sitting as a Court of Ordi
nary, for leave to sell all the Real Estate of John
S. Walton’s minors, lying in said county.
1. T. IRVIN, Guardian.
.Tune 15,1843. n>4m 42
! BOOTS AND SHOES.
’
100 pr. Kip peg’d. Brogans, at $1 to 1 12.’ i ts.
100 “ Calf, Lasting,and Morocco Gaitffr Shoes,
from $2 to 2 50 cts. per pair, a find ar
ticle, and made to order.’
15 dozen Ladies’ Kid Slippers and fancy Chine
Buskins at $1 to 1 25.
Ladies’ Calf and Kid walking Shoes,
Children’s Brogans and Slippers, of nearly
every variety.
Just received and tor sale by
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1, 1843. 40
Georgia. Nankeens.
i-)0 piece:- Goerji'i K -iikeeiis, at #1 12J cents
a. Ju .ted and for sail? by
HEARD & BROTHER.
June I, 40
&C.
15 barrel.* Now-Onetiii.-i Ait hisses,
C-di-r -v;.i \\ i: •• - V megar,
flu.per, l’< . ■ or, and Ah n:ce,
YVcc'limd ii
(.’Mims’ Axes, Trace Cl.: :‘.C‘
In Store ana for ease ai i. • • h.
HEARD ts. BRO! HER..
June 1,1843. 40
Bleached ’ Sheeting*,
A superior article, of 12-4 See. .
“ “ “ “ 12-41 .men S.■: •: n .
at 87] cents per yard. For sale by
HEARD &, BROTHr .
June 1, 1843. .<?
Mails l Mails l
25 kegs Nails just received, and for sale at
7 cents per pound by the keg.
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
Sheetings ami Shirtings.
12 bales Brown Sheetings and Shirtings, just i
received and for sale at 510 10 cts..per yard, by j
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
20 cases latest style Hats, consisting of black
fasionable Fur, Silk and Cassimere,
Black and white Bjuad-briiu Hats, just received
and will be sold at 25 jier cent, below the
ordiuarv price.-, bv
HEARD & BROTHER.
June 1,1843. 40
GUARDIAN’S SALE.
WILL be sold on tiic first Tuesday in July i
next, before the Court-llouse (loor in the
Town of VVarrentou, Warren county, between
the legal hours of sale, the following property,
to-wit:
Two-thirds of a Tract of Laud, containing
three hundred Acres, more or less, lying in the
counties of Warren and Taliaterro, situated on
the waters of Beaverdam Creek, adjoining hum.
of R. V. Asbury and others, belonging to the
minors of Joseph VV. Luckett, late of Wilkes
county, deceased—to-wit, Patrick H.and Robert
E. Lucket —tortile benefit of said minors.
HUGH WARD, Guardian.
May 1,1843. 9t 36
• GUARDIAN’S SALE.
“IJS/TLL be sold on the first Tuesday in July
* * next, before the Court-House door in
Washington, Wilkes county, between the legal ,
sale hours,
A Negro boy named CHARLES, about 25
years of age. Sold by order of the Court of Or
dinary of Wilkes county, as the properly of Jo
seph G. Semmes, minor. Terms Cash.
PAUL J. SEMMES, Guardian.
•TuneS, 1843. 41
ADMINISTRATOR’S SALE.
WILL be sold to the lowest bidder, on the
first Tuesday in July next, before the
Court-House door in Washington, Wilkes coun
ty, between the usual sale hours,
An old Negro woman named CI4LOE. Terms
made known on the day of sale.
B. A. ARNETT, ) . , ,
WM. FLORENCE, ( Adw rs
ANN ARNETT, Ex’x.
June 8,1843. ‘ 41
Elbert Superior Court,
MARCH TERM, 1843.
Jones & Bowman, complainants,
vs. ta
Miiley A. Banks, £
James J. Banks, tj* s’
Hamilton Dooly and his wife Mary Ann, tq
Johnson Akin and his wife Charity Ann, *
William T. Nelms and his wife Elizabeth,
Martha Banks and Hamilton Dooly, ‘ C,
Guardian for Eliza Banks, William Banks §
and Siineon Banks, defendants.
TT appearing to the Court that William T.
Nelms, and Elizabeth his wife, parties de
fendants to the above Bill, are not to be found in
the county of Elbert, and have not been served
with the above stated bill.—lt is therefore Or
dered, on motion of Robert McMillan, complain
ant’s Solicitor, that said William T. Nelms and
Elizabeth his wife, do appear at the next
of this Court, and then and there to stand *a
bide by, and perform such order and decree in
the premises as to the Court shall seem meet and
right in Equity. And it is further Ordered, that
a copy of this Rule be served upon said defend
ants by publishing the same once a month ter
four months previous to the next Term or tit ...
Court in some public Gazette of this State.
True copv from the Minutes, 9th May, 1843.
IRA CHRISTIAN, Clerk.
May 18. m4m 38
TpOUR months after date, application will be
made to the Honorable the Inferior Court
of Wilkes county, while sitting as a Court of Or
dinary, for leave to sell the Real Estate of Ar
gyle Normaa, deceased, late of Wilkes countv.
JOHN L. WYNN, Adm’r.
May 4,1843. m4m 36
EVERY VARIETY
OF
EXECUTED AT THIS
®FFO © E .
PUIiLIS H 1: D EVE H Y TIIU RSD A Y MO R NINO.
WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTY, GA.,) JUNE 22, 1843.
Fro.m the U. S. Saturday Gazette.
! TRUSTING TO APPEARANCES.
BY EZEKIEL JONES, ESI;.
“There are a great many folks in this
world who arepamazingly taken by outside
looks,” said my atmt Sally the other even
ing. Now Aunt Sally is an old maid, past
redemption one. of the oldest kind, for,
good soul, she’s hard upon sixty. She al
ways did say, though, that she needn’t have
been a spinster all her days, if she’d a took
up with any thing that come along—and I
do believe her. Like most old folks, she
seems sometimes to run of a notion, that
every body else must be thinking over in
their minds just what she’s dreaming “about
—in a kind of magnetic communication as
the Mesmerites say—though Aunt Sally
knows nothing about Mesmerism ; and 1
think it would he better for some younger
people, if they didn’t. Hut she appears to
fancy, when she’s been chewing the end of
memory over, all to herself, and then breaks
out in anew spot with some wise saw, that
all of us know what she means by it. So,
says she the other night, as I told you—
‘•There are a great many people in this
world, who are amazingly taken by outside
looks.” Then she hitched her chair near
r to the iamb, gave the skirts of her gown
a .tuck, held her hand over the fire to warm
her fingers, and looked all around, first to
-alher. then to mother, then to Fanny, and
■h n to me, as if she waited for one of us to
sp'-oik. Nobody said a word, and she
pinched her lips up, trotted her left leg on
her right knee, and looked right into the
fire. 1 saw the old lady wanted somebody
to speak, so I took my eyes off of Chitty on
Evidence a minute, and said :
“ That’s a fact, Aunt Sally, appearances
are deceitful ; but what’s to he done about
it ?”
“ Why, Zekiel,” said she, didn’t you see
that in the Philadelfy Post?”
“ What in the Post?” said I.
Aunt Sally got the newspaper and point
ed to a paragraph which set out how a poor
old drunken creature sat down on a rail
road, and went to sleep and how tha whole
train went over him crushing him all to
pieces, and how his jug was broken in his
hand ; and furthermore, that he had left a
destitute widow, and that his children, if
they wern’t exactly helpless from infancy,
nad grown up helpless from had examples.
W 11, I read it out loud, as Aunt Sally ask
ed ino, and though it did seem a painful
narrative enough, I couldn’t see any tiling
in it that had anything to do with Aunt Sal
ly. So says I, “ Well,- Aunt Sally, I don’t
see now what von are corning at.” Father
looked so, he did, but as mother and Fanny,
and I, and all seemed curious, Aunt Sally
put herself in her story-telling posture,and
began : ,
“ 1 could have told that man what would
be his end, fort}’ years ago.”
“ Why, Aunt,” says I, “ they didn’t have
railroads then, nor dream of them.”
“ Never you mind, Ezekiel Jones. Peo
ple who are too fond of the bottle didn’t
have to wait till railroads came into fash
ion, to find that sudden death laid in am
bush for them, 1 can tell you. The drunk
ard’s grave always gaped for him ever
since the world was made, and many is the
fine young man, who has begun to slide in
to it, before ever he knew which way his
feet was slipping ; or before ho found out
that he didn’t stand as fast as the everlast
ing hills. But I’m fairly set down for a
story, and being that you want to hear it,
and that Fanny is here too, I mean to tell
it.” And lather he folded up the newspa
per he was reading, I shut my book, and
mother she made haste to count her stitch
es in the knitting work, where she was
drawing in to fit my-calves ; Fanny-crossed
her feet with one sly peep at her own hand
some ankles, and we all put on our listen
ing caps for—
AUNT SALLY’S STORY.
“ I’m going to talk about things that I
don’t often mention; for when a body’s
nose and chin begins to look as if they were
forever goi.,g to kiss each other, and the
gray hairs will struggle out from under
their cap, and trio hands are shrivelled and
skinny, and the lips puckered and thin, it
seems kind of strange to young folks that
old folks, and old maids in particular,
should talk as if they had ever known or
felt anything like what we used to call love
when I was a girl, and what you still know
by the same name, lor want of a better.—
But lean tell you, Fanny Arhuckle, that i
my checks were once as full and red as
yours, (didn’t Fan blush and simper,) and
that my lips pouted as handsome and red
for a kiss, (she couhln’. help smiling half
spiteful,-) and that I shewed as pretty a set
of teeth when I laughed, (Lord how F’an
ny’s eyes snapped !) There wasn’t a deli
fcalor State, and I had as good
a pair of feet to stand upon, as them that
arc now peeping out from under your new
alpacca lustre.”
I rather guess Fanny’s feet were drawn
in about the quickest. Father he went off
into a horse-laugh, and mother looked
pleased enough.
Aunt Sally stooped over and looked at
Fanny’s gown, as if she had just thought of
minding it.
‘There,’ says she, ‘it’s a good deal like
what we used to call Prince's cloth, when 1
a girl, but it’s got more of a gloss.—
F that ain’t telling my story.’
t-fe,.'j’here was hardly a young man in these
| parts that didn’t shin up to me at some time
! or other, and that your father knows, Ze
kiel. Ho was a kind brother then, as he
has been ever since, and though I sav it to
| his face, it’s no disgrace between two such
old rheumatics as we are now. He took an
1 amazing deal of pains to find out all about
I the young men who took a shine to me, and
j he came pretty near the mark generally,
though he warn’t always right, as that ac
count in the Philadelfy Post has shown af
ter so many years.’
Now, if this had been said at almost any
other time, father would have gone into an
j argument with his sister, but he didn’t feel
like t; now. I could see that his eves glis
tened in the fire-light, as his memory dwelt
on the old times that Aunt Sallv had been
raking up ; and I now began to put that to
gether, and to catch a notion of what the
horrid accident had to do with the glances
between my father and Aunt. After a min
ute she went on :
‘ Forty years ago this winter—it may he
more, for I can’t rightly remember—there
was a great sleighing party contrived up
by the young men. It was in that parly
that I had mv first regular invite. I’d been
before a great many times to be sure.—
Sometimes I’d been taken along as one of
the children, and sometimes your father had
put me under the buffalo skin in his sleigh,
when he kind of wanted to coax some shy
girl to ride out with him, and knew she
wouldn’t go, if the ride looked altogether
too much on purpose. Sometimes, too, the
girls in the set older than ine, would agree
to ride out with some spark, and then up
and ask me to go too, for a spite to their
beaux. Didn’t the fellow used to wish me
further! But I didn’t care for that ; Iliad
the ride. This, though, was my first sleigh
ride, where a young man had harnessed up
his horse on purpose to treat me to a jaunt,
and to get a chance to throw out hints about
how pleasant a short journey was together,
and how we might make a longer one, and
all ihat sort of nonsense that the young men
were just as good at forty year? ago, as
they are now.
‘ I can truly and honestly say that I nev
er had a pleasanter frolic in my life. The’
bells jingled, and the snow flew, and the
laugh rung clear, and Josh Beamis looked
as i( there never was a handsomer man. I
felt proud of my beaux, and as proud of his
horse as if it had been my own, and as proud
of driving as if I had held the reins, and as i
cheerful and happy as ever an artless, un
troubled and innocent young girl could on ;
a harmless frolic. To be sure, though my
cars were too well covered from the cold to j
feel the"frost, Josh did make them tingle a
little. Oh, you may smile Fanny Arbuck
le, but when you are as old as I am, you
will own, like me, that there is nothing in
after life ever puts a woman into such a
happy flutter, as when she hears, for the first
time, what is said for her own private ear,
and nobody’s else. It is such a delightful
secret that there never was a woman yet,
who could keep it longer than till she met
somebody to tell it to.
‘Well, when we got to the stopping
place, the older girls who had been courted
till the business had lost all its freshness,
and the beau who had been paying atten
tions till they did it just as much of course
as a doctor’s horse stops before the house of j
an ailing family, they begun to throw out
their jokes and hints and twits. Perhaps
they thought itteezed us; but I know that
though I kind of dreaded the gauntlet that I |
knew I had to run from my young acquain- !
tances, I should-have been dreadfully dis
appointed and provoked if nobody had said
anything; and 1 guess Josh felt pretty
much the same. We hadn’t been in the
house over a minute before one of the girls
got the whole story out of my blushes in a
corner, and then she turned to the rest, and
such a tease as they put me into! 1 had
forty minds in a minute—first, that I never
would speak to Josh again ; then that I
would run right out and walk home alone
ten miles through the snow ; and then that
1 certainly would pout so at Josh that he
would never trouble me more. Just that
minute I heard a great haw ! haw ! haw !
in the bar-room, where the fellows had all
gone to order in refreshments. Then 1
knew that they were plagueing Josh too,
and when he came in with the rest, he was
trying to look as if he had heard nothing in
particular, and didn’t care for any body.
But he couldn’t help looking as if somebody
had caught him running away with a sheep
upon his back—and of course, as all the
rest were against us, we were obliged to
help each other and face thejn out. We
couldn't help it—and on the whole, I guess
we didn’t want to. Seeing Josh and I
were the youngest couple, and rather the
most awkward, our sleigh was brought to
the door last, and when Josh handed me in,
he put his face into my hood, and ’
Fanny looked at the speaker at this pas
sage—
‘He didn’t bite me, nor 1 him, Fanny Ar
buckle, 1 can tell you. Well, that ride pas
sed off nicely. Your father Zekiel, tried
to plague me a little after we got home, but
I fixed him out in short order with the kitch
en tongs. I knew just as well as could be,
that it was a match of your father’s coax
ing on, and that he was tickleder than I, if
that was possible, for young Joshua Bemis,
Esq. was thought a match for any body, if
‘an old vagrant and inebriate, named Be
mis,’ that’s what the papersavs, did get kil
led the other day,on a railroad. Ah, well!’
continued Aunl Sally, with a sigh, after a
moment’s cause —‘We are all born, but not
buried,’ as the saying is.
‘I shall leave you to guess of whom I
dreanied, F’anny, that night. Time passed
on, and I grew every day more discreet and
woman-like, and better worth respect and
love : for there is nothing fixes character,
forgood or ill, like the first serious, thought
ful and sincere attachment. But it was
broken off. VVhat separated us ? Now 1
am going to tell you.’
Father looked up from the fire with a
great deal of earnestness at Aunt Sally—
and Fanny and I wore not a little intores.
ted, too. Who knows that we shall not be
separated too, thought 1. I stole a look at
her face, her eye met mine, and I didn’t
need any words to tell me that our thoughts
were on pretty much the same thing. Aunt
Sally continued, addressing my father:
‘Do you remember that we were out of
milk early ofa morning in the Spring after
that sleigh ride ?’
Father shook his head.
‘Why,’ said Aunt Sally, ‘l’m sure 1
should tlriuk you would. Father was go
ing to Boston and took an early breakfast—
there was none left over night, and the cows
hadn’t been milked.’
The old gentleman made no answer.
‘Well, then, what a fool l am !’ Aunt.
Sally said. ‘1 do believe 1 ain getting old.
I’o think 1 should think you would remem
ber such a little thing after forty j’ears as
well as 1 do, whoso whole life has turned
upon it! Well, to make a long story short,
mother told me to take a pitcher and run
into some of the neighbors. I tried and tried,
at two or three places, and then run into
the tavern, that was where Mr. Guttridge’s
house is now. I was in the kitchen and I
heard a laugh in the bar-room. I should
have known that laugh if I had heard it a
mong a thousand, and 1 never heard it be
fore when it didn’t make mv heart jump in
anwser. But what could Joshua be doing
there before daylight ? In a minute more
1 head the stick rattle in the tumbler and
then Josh’s voice again. 1 couldn’t help
listening—-and such coarse jokes as those
of which I was the subject! Why, I liked
to have dropped, going home, more than
once, milk, pitcher and all It wasn’t the
jnere words that were said, 1 wouldn’t have
you think, for though they were had enough,
he meant no harm. It wasn’t altogether
the place neither in which they were spoke;
but the hour—and what went into the
mouth before the words came out—a mor
ning dram !’
Aunt Sally wiped her eyes, and we all
felt serious, I can tell you. hut father he
looked like a man who had just found out
a riddle that had puzzled him all his life.
‘I said nothing to nobody—how could I?
But when Josh Bemis came over in the eve
ning, how could I be as happy to see him
as 1 was the evening before ? And when
you scold me for not being cheerful, broth
er, I could not answer. The rest you
•know. I was led to watch Joshua, and 1
found that that morning dram was not a
mere accidental thing, hut a habit; and
though there were a great many who used
to do the same thing, I never could feel that
they were safe. Well, one chill brought
on another, till at last Joshua began to leave
longer spells between his visits ; and when
he did come that unlucky morning had j
supplied me with a key to too much of what j
you fancied was mere good humor; and j
then again I found that there was a cloud j
over his face, that he said came from some
thing else. I tried to joke him out of his
habit, of moderate drinking ; but he took it
only as a joke, and only laughed at me.—
1 dared once to reason seriously with him,
and he ask.ed me ii'l thought him a drunk
ard, and that was the last time 1 spoke to
him on that sGbject. And now I can look
back and tell the living truth, when I say
that the hour in which 1 ascertained that
he was coaxed away by an artfui rival was
one of real relief. She courted, and she
won him.
‘People pitied me. You almost quarrel
led with me : I told you then not to trust to
appearances, and you thought it was only
envy. And so it did seem. He was rich,
he was prosperous, he was honored, he
went from step to step in public life, he has
been to the General Court, and he has been
to Congress. His children were loves and
pets, his housear.d homestead were a sight
to behold for their pleasantness; and I
know you did think ine almost a fool that
I had not been the sharer in all this.
‘But, flourish as the tree might, 1 knew
what worm was at its root; and when, in
his jovial manners, his pleasant parties, his
dinners, his drives, his popularity, other
folks saw only bright happiness, 1 could
see that all these appearances were the
plainest marks of decay—just as you mind
trees turn all sorts of colors, when their
leaves are even just ready to drap. And
just when the world thought him best oil’,
this one vice began to strip him. Leaf af
ter leaf fell till the tree was left all bare,
and it is only a few old creatures like nte
who can recollect who that ‘vagrant’ was,
and what that ‘inebriate’ once possessed.—
Now he is dead—and his widow, with her
long life of.earthly hope—ofglad prosper
ity—of contemptuous pride—followed by
humiliation, trouble, embarrassment and
squallid poverty' —her children the plagues
of her life—her husband a torment in her
eyes—her name forgotten—her heart and
home desolate, and ali crowned by that
piece in the paper—ls she who trusted to
appearances, better off now than the poor
lonely old maid that did not?’
Aunt Sally hid her face in her hands.—
F'ather got up and walked right across the
fireplace to her. ‘Not lonely,’ said be, as
he took her hands in his, —and the brother
and sister got up and kissed each other, as
if they were both children, and Sally had
been telling over some girlish trouble,
which could be all wiped out with the lips.
1 guess there wasn’t an eye there though,
HI. J. K A TPEIi, Printer.
that didn’t swim in tears ; find us to Fanny
I do believe that she’ll be afraid of me here
after, if J only look at the outside of a cask
of spirits of turpentine.
[iVo/e. —It is hardly necessary to say
that Fanny js Mr. Jones’ affianced ]
Jonesville, Nov. 1842.
Curious Epidemics among Females. —The
imaginations of females are always more
excitable than men, and they are therefore
more susceptible of any tolly when they
lead a life of secret seclusion, and their
thoughts are constantly turned inward upon
themselves; hence, in orphan asylums,
hospitals, and convents, the nervous disor
der of one female so easily, quickly be
comes the disorder of all. It is recorded
in a medical book, that a nun in a large con
vent in France, began to mow like a cai :
shortly afterwards other nuns mewed ; at
last all the nuns mewed every day at a cer
tain time, for several hours together. The
surrounding tieighbprhood heard with as
tonishment the daily cat concert, which did
not cease until the nuns were informed that
a company of soldiers were placed by the
police before the entrance of the convent,
provided with rods, and would continue
whipping them until they promised not to
mew any more. “But of all the epidemics
(says Dr. Babbington, in bis recently pub
lished work) of females, which 1 myself
have seen in Germany, or of u hich the his
tory is known to me, the most remarkable
is the celebrated convent epidemic of the
15th century. A nun in a German nunne- *
ry fell to biting all her companions. In a
short time all the nuns of this convent be
gan biting each other. The news of this
infatuation among the nuns soon spread,
and it then passed from convent to convent
throughout a great part of Germany, prin
cipally Saxony and Braudenburgh. It af
terwards visited the nunneries of Holland,
and at last the nuns had the biting mania
even as far as Rome.”
THE LAMA.
The lama is the only animal associated
with man and utidebased by the contact.—
The lama will bear neither beating no ill
treatment. They go in troops, an Indian
walking a long distance ahead as a guide.
If tired, they stop and the Indian stops also.
If the delay is great, the Indian, becorne
ing uneasy towards sunset, after all sorts of
precautions, resolves on supplicating the
beasts to resume their journey. Ho stands
about fifty or sixty paces oft’, in an attitude
of humility, waves his hand coaxingly to
wards the lamas, looks at them w ith tender
ness, and at the same time, in the softest
tones, and with a patience I never failed to
admire, reiterates ic-ic-ic ic. If the lamas
are disposed to continue their course, they
follow the Indian in good order, at a regu
lar pace, and very fast, for their legs are
extremely long ; but when they are in ill
humor, they do not even turn their heads
towards the speaker —but remain motion
less, huddled together, standing or lying
down, and gazing on heaven with looks so
tender, so melancholy, that we might ima
gine these singular animals had the con
sciousness of another life, of a happier ex
istence. The straight neck, and its gentle
majesty ofbearing, the long down of their
clean and glossy skin, their supple and tim
id motions—all give them an air at once no
ble and sensitive. It must be so in fact :
for the lama is the only creature employed
by man t liat hedares not strike. If it hap
pens (which is very seldom) that an Indian
wishes to obtain, either by force or threats,
what the lama will not willingly perform,
the instant this animal finds itself affronted
by words or gesture, he raises his head with
dignity, and without attempting to escape
iii treatment by flight (the lama is never
tied or fettered) he lies down, turning his
looks towards heaven Large tears flow
from his eyes, sighs issure from his breast,
and in half or three quarters of an hour at
most, he expires. Happy creatures, who
appear to have accepted life on conditioner
its being happy ! The respect shown these
animals by the Peruvian Indians, amounts
to reverence.
When the Indians load them, two ap
proaoh and caress the animal, hiding his
head, that he mav not see the burden on bis
hack. If he did, he would fall down and
die. It is the same in unloading. If they
exceed a certain weight, the animal throws
itself down and dies. The Indians of the
Cordilleras alone possess enough patience
and gentleness to manage the lama. It is
doubtless from this extraordinary compan
ion, that ho has learned to die when he is
| overtasked.
■ Foreign Quarterly Review
Anew kick of Fashion for Ladies Shoes
—The New York correspondent of the Na
tional Intelligencer writes—
I observe anew fashion in lady’s boots
which would take, I should think, among
the Orientals. The Arabs as you know,
judge ofaristoeracy by the test of a hollow
under the instep—that if water will run un
der the naked foot when standing on mar
ble, the ancestors of the owner could not
have borne burdens. Mr. Dick, ladies’
boot maker in Broadway, inserts a steel
spring into the sole to keep it snug undvr
the instep, supporting the toot very eamfor
tably in walking, and adding very much to
its beauty. The Amalgamation! us will
probably oppose the fashion, as the negro
foot is entirely excluded from its advanta
ges.
[VOI I Mi; \AVIII.
