News & planters' gazette. (Washington, Wilkes County [sic], Ga.) 1840-1844, June 22, 1843, Image 1
- - - - 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.