Newspaper Page Text
WEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
ID. . COTTING, Editor.
No. 35.—NEW SERIES.]
News and Planters’ Gazette .
terms:
Published weekly at Two Dollars and Fifty
Cents per annum, if paid at the time of yub.se ri
bin<r; or Three Dollars if nut paid till the expi
ration of three months.
No paper to be discontinued,unless a! the
option of the Editor, without the settlement of
all arrearages.
IET Litters, on business, mustbepostpaid, to
insure attention. No communication shall lie
published, unless toe are made acquainted with
the name of the author.
TO ADVERTISERS.
Advertisements, not exceeding one square, first
insertion, Secenty-fne Cents; and for each sub- I
sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduction will j
be made of twenty-five per cent, to those who I
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
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, sir months.
Mail Arrangements.
POST OFFICE, )
Washington, Ga., Sept. 1, 1843. $
EASTERN MAIL.
By this route, Mails are made up for Raytown,
Double-Wells, Crawfordville, Camack, Warren
ton, Thompson, Dearing, and Barzelia.
ARRIVES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 9, A. M.
CLOSES.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at 2J, P. M
WESTERN MAIL.
By this route, Mails are made up for all Oifi
ces in South-Western Georgia, Alabama, Mis
sissippi, Louisiana, Florida, also Athens, Ga. and
the North-Western part of the State.
arrives —Wednesday and Friday, by C A. M.
closes —Tuesday and Thursday, at 12 M.
ABBEVILLE, S.C. MAIL.
By this route, Mails are made up for Danburg,
Pistol Creek, and Petersburg.
ARRIVES.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, by 1 P. M.
CLOSES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 0 A. M.
LEXINGTON MAIL.
** By this route, Mails are made up for Centre
ville, State Rights, Scull-shoals, and Salem.
arrives —Monday and Friday, at 9 A. M.
closes —Tuesday and Saturday, at 9 A. M.
APPLING MAIL.
Bv this route, Mails are made up for Wrights
boro\ White Oak, Walker’s Quaker Springs.
arrives —Tuesday and Saturday, by 9 A. M.
closes —Monday and Friday, at 9 A. M.
ELBERTON MAIL.
By this route, Mails are made up for Mallo
rysvillo, Goosepond, Whites, Mill-Stone, llarri
sonville, and Ruckersville.
Arrives Thursday 8 P. M., and Closes same time.
LINCOLNTON MAIL.
By this route, Mails are made up for Rehoboth,
Stoney Point, Goshen, Double Branches, and
Darby’s.
Arrives Friday, 12 M. | Closes same time.
O’ The Letter Box is the proper place to de
posite all matter designed to be transported by
Mail, and such as may be found there at the
times above specified, will be despatched by first
post.
COTTING & BUTLER,
ATTORNIES,
HAVE taken an OFFICE on the North
side of the Public Square, next door to
the Branch Bank of the State of Georgia.
October, 1843. 28
NELSON CARTER,
DEALER IN
Choice Drugs and Medicines,
Chemicals, Patent Medicines,
Surgical and Dental Instruments,
Perfumery, Brushes,
Paints, Oils, Dye-Stuffs,
Window Glass, fyc. Spc.
REDHORTAr J AUGUSTA, Ga.
October 12, 1843. ly 7
HAVILAND, RISLEY & Cos.
Near the Mansion House, Globe and United
States Hotels,
AUGUSTA, GA.,
DEALERS IN CHOICE
DRUGS AND MEDICINES,
Surgical and Dental Instruments,
.J Chemicals, Patent Medicines,
Perfumery, Brushes, Paints, Oils,
Window Glass, Dye Stuffs,
&c. See.
Being connected with Haviland,
jjgBBBII Keese & Cos., New-York, and Hav
gEjir iland, Harral & Allen, Charles
ton, they are constantly receiving
fresh supplies of every article in
fnr line, which they are enabled to sell at the
lowest market prices.
03“ All goods sold by them, warranted to be of
the quality represented, or may be returned.
Augusta, August 1843. 51 _ i
New Goods.
The Subscriber is now receiving his sup
ply of
Spring and Summer
itt*y floods.
Os the latest Style and New Pat
terns.
AMONG THEM ARE :
Worsted Bareges and Balzarines, for La
dies Spring Dresses,
Printed Lawns and French Muslins,
Lace Muslins and Organdy do.
Cotton Balzarines and Organdy Ginghams,
I Superior Earlston Ginghams,
i Do. Chusan do.
French and American Calicoes, a great va
riety,
Super, plain, black and blue black Silks,
Do. Plaid and Stripe do.
Gros de Swiss Foulard do.
Fancy Shawls and Ties,
Do. Scarfs,
Bonnet Ribbons and Neck do.
Leghorn and Straw Bonnets,
Lawn and Silk do.
Bonnet Hoods,
Linens and Long Lawns,
Super, wool dyed black Broadcloths,
Do. blue and invisible-green do.
Do. black Cassi.neres,
Fancy do. a great variety.
Super, black Drap d’etc and Barpone, a
new article, for Gentlemen’s Summer
Coats,
Brown Linens and Linen Drills,
Gambroon, fig’d. Barpone, and cotton Pon
gees,
Brown and blue Domestics,
Georgia Nankeens,
Hosiery and Gloves,
Linen Cambric and Silk Handkerchiefs,
Saddles, Bridles and Martingales,
Shoes,
Black and white fur Huts,
Leghorn and Palm-leaf do.
Hardware and Cutlery,
Crockery,
Sugar, Tea and Coffee,
Powder and Shot, j
Nails, Ac. See.
Also.—A great variety of articles too
numerous to mention, which lie offers on
terms to suit the timess.
O IT CALL AND SEE.
. I\ COKART
Washington, March 28, 1844. 31
£fHfeCC > U4(l9?slls.
THE MAD ENGLISHMEN.
A Story of Ostend. —Journeying lately
in the diligence from Ostend to Ghent, 1 fell
in with a Belgian Travelling companion,
with whom I had some agreeable chat rela
tive to the country through which we pass
ed, and its inhabitants. He was a native
of Ostend, a town which lias endured many
vicisitudes of fortune, and of which he
seemed to know many amusing stories.
Oneofthese l shall try to recall to remem
brance, in the words which it was told.
In the year 1817, two Englishmen ar
rived at Ostend; end from their movements
appeared to be two singular originals.
One was short, stout, and red haired; the
other was tall and thin. The short one
was named Richard Mowbray, and Install
companion was William Featherington.
Both were in the prime of life, between
forty five and fifty five. From head to
foot both were gentlemen, and their pass
ports were in the best order and regularity.
Upon stepping ashore, they were conduct
ed, at their desire, to the Scheldt inn, in
the Gudule Street. The host was by name
Rysvoort, and his inn had by no means
the best reputation in Ostend. The in
keeper was of course enchanted by the ar
rival ofsuch unlooked for guests. They
occupied the best apartments in his house,
and ordered the choicest fare. The cook
busied herself in setting before them a
most miserable dinner, and our host did the
same by two bottles of execrable wine.
The Islanders ate and drank with the most
perfect satisfaction. But tiie reckoning?
Upon this head the host was quite at ease.
The next morning his enormous charges
were paid with the utmost indiffererence.
Thus far all was excellent; but Van Rys
voot, unused to such birds of Paradise, fear
ed every moment they might depart, and
continue their journey to Brussels. He
very eagerly concluded that the English
men did not cross the sea to see Ostend
merely, and to pay roundly for his bad
cheer.
The pair however, showed no signs of de
parture; a dilligencc offered them every
opportunity. The Englishmen remained
quietly; all intercourse with the town’s
people they avoided; the sights they trou
bled themselves not at all about. Every
day they walked into the country, and ate
and drank, smoked, slept, and read the pa
pers, and lived as quietly and peaceably as
angels. No letters came to them; they
sent none off; the world was dead to them,
and they were dead to the wofld
Every third morning fSUy regularly
paid their bill; took nothing off, although
the landlord daily charged a three fold
price for every thing. Van Rysvoort spoke
i usually but little la, and troubled himself l
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING.
WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTA, GA.,) APRIL. 25, 1844.
about his guests still less, since they paid I
so well; but these self same Englishmen j
took up all his attention. He puzzled his i
brain over and over again and at last :
took his wife into his councils; but as they j
could hot even conjointly solve the mystery
they consulted with friends and neighbors
upon what these Englishmen could possi
bly he doing at Ostend.
“They are spies,” said one. “Birds of
flight, who are escaping punishment says
others.
At last the town clerk, who had been |
some years in England settled the matter. |
“Do not trouble your heads: I’ll tell you
wiiat these two Englishmen are; they are
; nothing more or less than mad Englshmen.
IDo you know what that means? Listen
and I will tell you. I knew in London a
man who in his old ago, took to leading
such a beggarly life, that for fifteen years
he lived as the most wretched of paupers.
From his fellow.beggars lie received every
sort of annoyance; bismodeof life brought
on him cudgelings and imprisonments;
but he still persisted. At last one morn
ing he was found in a lane frozen dead!
And listen, he left a will—valid and drawn
up by a notary —in which he disposed of
more than £50,000 to a village he had ne
ver seen nor known.—Confess that he was
a inad Englishman. Such are those now
lodging in the Scheldt.” So spoke the
clever man. But Van Rysvoort answered
“Mador not, they are good customers; they
live, and pay well; they never complain;
and if I only for five years could keep such
guests, I should become a made man.”
A week after this consultation, and three
after their arrival, the Englishman called
their host, and thus addressed him. Her.
Van Rysvoort, yotir hotel pleases us very
much, and if our proposition pleases you, j
we may continue our acquaintance with j
each other.
“My lord,” answered the delighted
host, with a low obeisance, “I am quite at
your disposal ; say your wishes, and they
shall become mine ; for I know what I
owe to such distinguished guests.”
“My good friend,” said the little fat man j
“ your hotel is by no means so large as ii
ought to be ; you know you have but three
apartments in which a gentleman can he
accomodated, and these look upon the street.
, The rattle of carts and carriages makes
i noise w ithout end. We love quiet. We
! are here every instant disturbed. Our
; health must sink under it. In short, the
noise is unbearable.”
“I am very sorry to hear it my lord :
what can Ido ? You are quite right. It
is true the traffic is without end, hut I can.
not shut up the street.”
“Certainly not: hut the thing is not so
difficult after all.” “ What does my lord
mean ?”
“ The cost cannot be important, and wo
! willingly bear the half.”
“Pray, continue, my lord,” cried out the
landlord with a frankness and warmth most
unusual to him.
“ You have behind your house, a small
garden, in which nothing grows ; the old
wall is also in ruins. Could you not build
there a small house, with three comfortable
rooms, and there we shall find a quiet lodg
ing ? If you freely give into our plan, as
we have said, wc will pay the half. When
vve leave, the house will belong to you ;
but should this not please you, we must go,
although we would willingly remain.”
Van Rysvoort seized eagerly upon the
proposal, finding his own advantage in ev.
ery view ; he kept his customers, and en
larged his house at their expense.
The same evening the hottest Van Rys
voort consulted with a builder, who, at one
and the same time, was his gossip and god
father. The builder set briskly to work
next morning ; for the Englishmen would
admit of no delay, and as they marked out
the ground, all was quickly in progress.
From morning till night Mr. Richard
Mowbray and Mr. William Featherington
never left the workmen. Van Rysvoort
took great interest in what was going on,
but said nothing. It is true he was not
quite contented that the haste with which
the Englishmen hurried on the building
gave no great guarantee for its durability.
He would have been better pleased, per
haps, had the building not been raised quite
so much in the corner by the old wall, and
that it had been carried up a story or so
higher; but his guests were inexorable,
and would only allow of one floor. In 14
days the garden-house was completed, as if
by magic. The Englishmen were so de
lighted, that they took immediate posses
sion.
Van Rysvoort and his wife were now
convinced that none but mad Englishmen
would leave a good dry house for anew
and wet one. However, that was the bu
siness of his guests, and being to all appear
ance a freak, they resolved that it should
be well paid for. The entire building, ac
cording to the accounts of the artificers
employed upon it, cost 2374 florins—a sum
which the innkeeper considered so unrea
sonably low, that he increased it to 4748
florins—for his own benefit. Monstrous as
was the bill presented to them, the English
men paid it, the avaricious host consoling
his conscience with the reflection, that it
was all little enough for accommodating
such crazy lunatics within his premises.
This matter being settled, the English
men, now installed in their garden-house,
seldom made their appearance out of it.
They ate, drank, smoked, and read the pa
pers as usual, but the most curious part of
our story is, that they allowed no one to
t enter, and even made the beds themselves.
All this time their accommodation was
j not of the best order. Perhaps the Frau
j Van Rysvoort w ished to try how little they
i could be pleased with it. Nothing could
I be worse than their eating and wine—for
honest Herr Rysvoort’s reasoning was, that
before mad Englishmen shoulJ drink of a
good vintage, they must learn to value it.
The facility with which they paid his dou
ble charges was only equalled by the tin
ccmpluiniugness with which they swallow
ed his ill-prepared viands.
The more shamelessness he exhibited,
j the greater became the forbearance of his
i guests. The brain of mine host was al
ways at work to solve so much mysteiy ;
lie even ventured to display a certain dog
ged anger ; still, he moved not the equa
nimity ot his customers. The most puz
zling and annoying circumstances was the
making their own beds. Why did they
keep themselves locked in? Why did
they burn a light all night? They moved
into the garden for quiet sleep; and yet,
since they had possession they appeared not
to sleep at all! Van Rysvoort lost himself
in w ild conjecture. He stood at the win
dow whole nights watching the light at the
Englishmen’s rooms ; and at last so puz
zled his senses with his guests, that he
could no longer enjoy life. The bewilder
ed and tormented landlord now took a good
friend or tw'o into his councils, and the re
sult of a long deliberation was, that the two
Englishmen were neither more nor less than
false coiners. Van Rysvoort, not a little
alarmed at this verdict, passed in review
the whole of the gold pieces he had receiv
ed from tiie Englishmen, hut found amongst
them not a suspicious piece. Urged by his
thrifty better half, he took a guinea to a
neighboring Jew money-changer to ascer
tain its w eight arid purity. The Jew made
every usual test, but declared it good.—
Now was the honest innkeeper quite at his
wit’s end ; so was his wife ; ands 6 was his
gossip, and god-father, the builder.
Things went on in this manner until Oc
tober,when the Englishmen suddenly chan
ged their mode of living. Each bought a
gun and a shooting pouch, and went out —
but never togetiier—as they said, to sport
upon the dunes and canals. At last, one
evening Mr. Featherington called the inn
keeper, and informed him that they were
both going upon a three day’s shooting ex
cursion.
And sure enough, the following morn
ing, long before sunrise, a carriage was
waiting at the door, and the Englishmen in
full sporting trim, jumped into it,and drove
off.
So precipitate we're they, that the inn
keeper had no time to make his lowest bow,
nor wish them a pleasant excursion. Dur
ing the next three days, Van Rysvoort was
in a state of considerable perplexity. The
Englishmen had taken with them the key
of the garden-house ; and a hard struggle
ensued in his breast between curiosity and
discretion. Curiosity said, break open the
garden-house ; discretion said, such an in
trusion would lose him his guests.
Wednesday, the forth day from the de
parture of the Englishmen, arrived, and
still thc-y did not appear. In the evening
a council was held in the inn ; the sitting
was long and stormy, all sorts of surmises
and strange hypotheses were indulged in.
On the Thursday, Van Rysvoort put on
his greatcoat most wofully, and went to
give information to the police. He, how
ever, took this step very unwillingly, as he
wisely calculated that, in the event of his
guests having met with an untimely end,
he could not quietly possess himself of their
valuables. The commissary and three
gensd’arms attended at the inn, to clear up
the mystery.
Asa matter of form, three knocks at the
door summoned to a surrender. Os no use,
no reply. Then, as a matter of course,
followed the forcing the entrance. The
happy long-wished-for moment now was
arrived. Lo ! what came to sight ? Noth
ing, liberal ly nothing !
The police functionaries and the inn
keeper started back in amazement. Then
followed a long-drawn breath from the
head-over-hcad peeping band of curious
friends and relatives pressing on the back
ground. A gensd’arme drew his sword
and valiantly rushed into the apartments.
But there was nothing to encounter but two
empty trunks and an open letter. With
these trophies he hurried back. Anew
movement then took place. The commis
sary read as follows :
“My dear Van Rysvoort—Convinced
that you are as well versed in tiie chroni
cles ofyour town as you are in your led
ger, of whose exactitude you have left us
nothing to doubt, it may be useless to tell
you that Ostend, in the beginning of the
seventeenth century, was mixed up in the
war then raging between Spain and Hol
land. Your town was, from the year 1001
to 1604, exposed to those vicissitudes that
all so situated are liable to, until the Dutch
garrison was forced to yield to the Spanish
general Spinola. Amongst the defenders
who fought like heroes under the colors of
the United Provinces, were many English
men, sons of the first families of our coun
try. In this band was one of our ancestors,
who was treasurer of the expedition. Be
fore the town capitulated, he with great
caution hid from the capture of the Span
iards the treasure box.
Soon after, he returned to England and
died, but not before he had given to his
family some intelligence of the concealed
treasures. This good fortune has devolved
upon us : your house and garden were poin
ted out as the spot. Once upon our track.
we lost no time in installing ourselves in j
your inn, and soon found reason to be sat- :
isfied with our operations. We have sue- i
ccedcd without giving rise to any suspi
cions, in obtaining possession of the troas.
tires so long arid deeply hurried in oblivion,
and in appropriating thorn to ourselves,
their right destination. How we operated i
need now no longer he a secret ; but, Herr !
Van Rysvoort, we must premise our dis
closure by declaring upon our honor as
gentlemen, that we have fairly let yon into
one half of the treasures. So long as Os.
j tend exists, no innkeeper will have again
such profitable guests. You have robbed
us through thick and thin as though we had
fallen into the hands of a banditti. You
have not only doubly, but hundredfold chi
caned us. We were determined to shut
our eyes to your proceedings. As we
promised you have profited.
In the furthest room you will find a por- j
tion of the floor broken up : you will also
find a hole ten feet deep, at the bottom of
which lies an iron chest. We took our
time in removing the old ducats of Charles
V. The chest wo bequeath to you, with
the recommendation that you fill up the
chasm again at vour convenience.
Perhaps you will wish to know how the I
“mad Englishmen” are really named. We J
; are very sorry in this respect to be unwil- ;
j ling to oblige you. The discovery would’
i be of no use, as we firmly intend never to j
] set foot again in your memorable town, or
|in your inn. Do not trouble yourself with
j any reflections upon our conduct. The j
’ finance minister of Queen Elizabeth can
alone call us to account; and he, good j
man, has already given up his claims full I
two hundred years ago ; so, upon his score,
we lightly trouble ourselves.
For the future, in laughing over the very j
questionable conduct you have shown us, 1
we shall always bear witness to the high j
esteem with which we are impressed as to j
your character as a man and innkeeper.—
In the hope of never seeing you again, with ;
1 our hearty farewell, we give you leave to j
; call us, and to speak of us, as the
Mad Englishmen.” \
’
Van Rysvoort rolled his eves and bit his j
| lips ; but to what purpose ? The first trans- !
| port of rage having passed away, the inn- j
; keeper ended the matter by an observation I
I which did honor to his perception. “That I
these Englishmen, after all, were not so j
j mad as they seemed lo be.”
A Dovetailer of Sermons. —The Rev. j
j B was what is commonly termed “a j
popular preacher;” not, however, by draw- j
ingonhisown stories, but by tiie knack
which he possessed of appropriating the I
thoughts and language of other great di- |
vines who had gone before him, to his own j
use, and by a skilful splicing and dovetail- j
ing of passages, so as to make a whole.—
Fortunately for him, those who composed j
his audience were not deeply skilled in pul- j
pit lore, and with such lie passed for a won
der of erudition, it happened, however,
| that the doctor was detected in his literary
| larcenies. One Sunday, a grave old gen
| tleman seated himself close to the pulpit,
; and listened with profound attention. The
i doctor had scarcely finished his third sen- ;
| tence, before the old gentleman said loud j
enough to ho heard by those near him, |
“That’s Sherlock.” The doctor frowned,
hut went on. He had not proceeded much
farther, when his grave auditor broke out
with, “That Tillotson.” The doctor bit :
his lips, and paused, but again went on.— •
At a third exclamation of, “That's Blair,” j
the doctor lost all patience, and, leaning
over the side of the pulpit, “Fellow,” he
cried, “if you do not hold your tongue, you
shall be turned out.” Without altering a
muscle, the old cynic, looking the doctor j
full in the face, says, “That’s his own.”
j CC!?” The following observations upon a j
common, but incorrect, mode of expression
arc from “ Bullion’s English Grammar :”
“ It has lately become common to use
the present participle passive to express the
suffering of an action as continuing, instead
of the participle in -ing in the passive sense; j
thus, instead of. “The house is building,” j
we now frequently hear, “ Tiie house is j
being built.” This mode of expression, I
besides being awkward, is incorrect, and
does not express the idea intended. This
will be obvious, I think, from the following
considerations:
1. The expression, “is being,” is equiv
alent to, “is,” and expresses no more;
just as, “is loving,” is equivalent to,
“loves.” Hence, “is being built,” is pre
cisely equivalent to “is built.”
2. “ Built,” is a perfect participle ; and
therefore cannot, in any connexion, express
an action, or the suffering of an action, now
in progress. The verb to be, signifies to
exist; “bring,” therefore, is equivalent to
| “ existing.” If then we substitute the sy
nonyme, the nature of the expression will
be obvious; thus, “ the house is being
built,” is in other words, “ the house is ex
isting built,” or more simply as before, “ the
house is built;” plainly importing an ac
tion not progressing, but now existing in a
finished state.
3. If the expression “is being built” be
a correct form of the present indicative
passive, then it must be equally correct to
say in the present perfect, “ has been being
built;” in the past perfect, “ had been being
built;” in the present infinitive, “to be
being built;” in the perfect infinitive, “to
have been being builtand in the present
j participle, “ being being builtwhich all
1 will admit to be expressions as incorrect as
n. J. KAPPUL, Printer.
they are inelegant, but precisely analogous
to that which now begins to prevail.
This inode of expression has probably a
risen horn assuming that the English par
ticiple in -ing corresponds to the Latin par
ticiple in ns, which has always an active
signification, and that the perfect participle
in English coi respi-nds to the perfect parti
ciple in Latin, which, except in deponent
verbs, is always passive. But since it is
obvious that the analogy dews not hold be
tween the two languages in tin. latter case,
there is no good reason why it should hold
in the former. On the contrary, i.s the
perfect participle in English has both an
active and passive signification, analogy
claims an equal latitude of meaning for the
participle in - ing ; and this claim has been
allowed by the best writers of the English
language. The present participle active,
and the present participle passive, are not
counterparts to each other in signification ;
the one signify ing the present doing, and
the other the present sutl’ering of an action,
for the latter always intimates the present
being of an act, notin progress, but com
pleted. The proper counterpart to the par
ticiple in -ing in the active sense, is the
same participle in its passive sense, or some
equivalent circumlocution, when a passive
sense is not admitted.
It is true that of mnny verbs, the partici
ple in -ing is not used in a passive sense.
For example, we would not sav, “ the hook
is reading.” It would he equally incorrect
to say, “ the book is being read.” Our not
using the former expression in this case,
and in others of a similar nature, is ow ing
to this, that custom has sanctioned a differ
ent mode of expressing the same idea.”
Stripping for a Race. —The Vicksburg
Whig gives the particulars of an amusing
scene enacted in that vicinity a few days
since. Mr. Whitney, the oratorical lec
turer, walked out about a mile from town
to bathe at a spring branch ; he stripped off
his clothes, laid them carefully on the bank
and went into the water. In a few mo
ments he discovered a fellow taking charge
of his clothes, and immediately jumped out
in pursuit of him ; here a long chase of
about half a mile ensued, but wisely tho
chap, finding his naked pursuer gaining
upon him, took to the briars as a safe re
fuge, and thus put an end to the chase.
Mr. W. wended his way towards town,
having no clothing, save his shoes. He
approached a house to tell his sad story',
when some ladies, seeing his condition,
opened upon him a volley of firebrands
which soon put him to flight. Happily, he
found a pair of inexpressibles hanging on
a fence of which lie took forcible posses
sion, and thus relieved from his sad predi
cament, he told his adventure and procured
a servant to come to town for his clothes.
The worst part of tho story is the fact that
the professor had S3OO in his pocket, with
which the daring thief got successfully off
Disappointed Love and its Dreadful Con
sequences.—lt was only yesterday that we
mentioned the case of a man named Mc-
Leod. a resident of Canada West, who, from
disappointed love alone, died of a broken
heart. Scarcely had our marvel ceased
at this singular case, ore we are called up
on to record one even more strange. An
English paper gives the particulars of a
love affair in which a ploughman became
deeply enamored of a milkmaid on a neigh
boring farm. His fond addresses were
cruelly rejected by the fair one, and the
disappointed swain, full of melancholy', des
peration and vengeance, procured a strong
cord,went out to the barn, visited night and
morning by the object of his passion, and—
tied all the cow's tails together /
Expedient for Reducing a Hole. —An
Irish weaver just imported from the sister
isle, took to his employer iu Kilmarnock,
the other day, the first cloth he had woven
since his arrival. His employer detected
in the cloth two holes, within half an inch
of each other, and told him he must pay a
fine of a shilling for a hole. “And plaze
ye,” returned Pat, “is it by the number of
holes, or by the size of them, that you put
the line on us ? “By the number of holes,
tobesure.” And a big hole and a small
one is the same price ?” “Yes a shilling
for each hole, big or little.” “Then give
me a hould of the piece,” replied Paddy ;
and getting the cloth into his hand, he tore
the two small holes into one, and exclaimed,
“By the hill of Howth, and that saves me
a shilling, any how !”
Nice Old Ladies. —The nice old lady in
Virginia who scrubbed through the floor
and fell into the kitchen cellar, is but one
among the very nice ladies with which our
country abounds. We have iieard of a
good old lady in New Jersey who white
washed all the wood she burned ; another
one in Connecticut who used three times
a day to scour the nose of her lap dog, to
keep him from soiling the dish out of which
he ate his meats ; the same old lady took
her food through a napkin ring to keep it
from coming in contact with her lips.
Avery Hard Customer. —A Michigan
editor complains grievously of one of bis
subscribers. The fellow will not pay his
subscription and threatens to flog the editor
if he stops his paper.
The Treaty for the annexation of Texas
has been signed by Mr. Tyler and the Tex
an Minister, and will be laid before the
Senate for confirmation as soon as the ne
cessary documents nro prepared.
[VOLUME XXIX.