Newspaper Page Text
THE
IhU be published every SATURDAY Morning,
In the Brick Building, at the Corner of
Cotton Avenue and First Street,
IN THE CITY OF MACOS, GA.
1{ V WM. B. IIA It BISON.
T E RMS:
For the Paper, in advance, per annum, $2.
if not paid in adV&nce, $2 50, per annum.
If not paid until the cm! of the Year $3 00.
£7* Advertisements will be inserted at the usual
rates —and when the number of insertions de
sired is not specified, they will be continued un
til forbid and charged accordingly.
(FJ* Advertisers by the Year will be contracted
with upon the most favorable terms.
(FT’Sales of Land by Administrators, Executors
or Guardians, are required by Law, to be held on
the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours
of ten o’clock in the Forenoon and three in the Af
ternoon, at the Court House of the county in which
t|,° Property is situate. Notice ofthese Sales must
be given in a public gazette sixty days previous
to the day of sale. , . .
iFJ'Sales of Negroes by Admimstators, Execu
tors or Guardians, must be at Public Auction on,
the first Tuesday in the month, between the legal
hours of sale, before the Court House of the county
where the Letters Testamentary, or Admi mstration
or Guardianship may have been granted, first giv
ing notice thereoffor sixty da vs, in one ofthe pub
lic”-azettes of this State, and at the door of the
Court House where such sales are to be held.
Notice for the sale of Personal Property must
begiven in like manner forty days previous to
the day of sale.
Oj’Notice to the Debtors and Creditors olan Es
tate must be published for forty days.
£jp.\otice that application will be made to the
Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Ne
groes must be published in a public gazette in this
State for four months, before any order absolute
can be given by the Court.
,jj>CiTATiONsfor Letters of Administration on
an Estate, granted by the Court of Ordinary, must
be published thirty days —for Letters of Dismis
sion from the administration ofan Estate, monthly
for six months —for Dismission from Guardian
ship forty days. j
(Fj*Rui.es for the foreclosure of a Mortgage,
must be published monthly for four months—
for establishing lost Papers, for the full space of
three months— for compelling Titles from Ex
ecutors, Administrators or others, where a Bond
hasbeen given by the deceased, the full space of
THREE months.
N. ft. All Business of this kind shall receiv
prompt attention at the SOI 1 HERN MUSEUM
'Office, and strict care will be taken that all legal
Advertisements are published according to Law.
(FJ*AII Letters directed to this Office or the
Editor on business, must be roST-rAiD, to in
jure attention. FT
••A LITTLE MORE GRAPE.”
rgIHE undersigned, true to Ins promise, again
I. presents to the Public more data on which
they can safety base their calculations relative
to the respective merits of the depleting system
of tlie disciples of Esculapius, and of that invig
orating and phlogestic one of which he is proud
to be the advocate.
Leaving the stilts of egotism and shafts of rid
icule for the use of those who have nothing bet
ter to stand on, and no other weapons for attack
or defence, he selects his standing on truth, and
uses such support only as merit gives him ; and
for weapons, lie chooses simply to assail the
ranks of the enemy occasionally with “a little
more grape,’’ in the form of facts,which are evi
dently the hardest kind of arguments since they
often*administer to his quiet amusement by the
terrible destruction they cause among the stilts
and the ludicrous effect they produce in causing
certain individuals to laugh, as it is expressed in
homely phrase, 11 on t’other side the mouth.
The Mexicans arc not the only people, these
days, whom vanity has blinded to their own de
fects ; neither can they claim much superiority
in the way of fancied eminence and blustering
bravado over many that live a great deal nearer
home. A salutary lesson has latterly been giv
en the former by the Americans, and the latter
may ere long take 44 another oi the same ala
mode de Tai/lor.
After the following there will still be “ a few
more left.”
Georgia, Jones County, 1848.
This certifies that for more than four or five
years my wife was afflicted with a disease pecu
liar to her sex, and notwithstanding all that we
could do, she still continued to get worse. The
Physicians in attendance had exhausted their
skill without rendering her any assistance till,
in 1844, when she was confined to her bed in a
very low condition, I got her last attendant to go
with me to Macon and lay her ease before Dr.
M. S. Thomson, who, without having seen her,
prescribed and sent her medicine that soon re
lieved her, and in the course of a short time re
stored her to permanent health. She has now
been well about four years and rejoices in the
recovery of her long lost health
FRANCIS B. IiASCAL.
Macon. June 22d, 1848.
Du. M. S. Thomson — Dear Sir :—Deeming it
a duty 1 owe to yourself as well as to the afflicted
generally, I have concluded to give you a short
statement of my case, which you are at liberty to
publish if you think that the best modeofthereby
subserving the interests of suffering humanity.
In May 1841, after considerable exposure to
cold, I was attacked with Asthma, which pros
trated me very much, and notwithstanding all
that could be done to prevent it, it continued to
return about every two weeks till in 1846, I ap
plied to you. Between these attacks I had aver)
severe cough, which led some of the physicians
to whom I applied to believe that I had consump
tion. I applied to physicians of both the Min
eral and Botanic schools, of eminent general
qualifications, but all to no benefit, for I contin
ued to get worse,so much so that 1 had reduced
from being a strong, fleshy man, down to a mere
skeleton and could hardly creep about.—When
1 applied to you, I had but little faith in being
cured, though I had witnessed some wonderful
results following your treatment, especially the
cure of t|, a t crazy woman you bought of Aquil
,!l Phelps, in Jasper, yet they gave me confi
dence and by persevering in the use of your
Fotnedies, and as it were hoping against hope,
am much gratified in being able to announce
' lat J have got entirely well, for 1 have had but
one light attack in twenty months, and that was
eight months ago. 1 have now regained about
my former weight, and feel as strong as almost
any man offifty-nne, which is my age. Without
disparagement to the characteroftlie other cures
mat have so frequently resulted from your prac-
! c . e * *do not think that any of them can beat
l|s , for confirmed Asthma combined with a
'‘"<sumpti.ee cough, especially where the flesh
'<»s wasted, lias long been classed among thein
urvablcs. Most respectfully, yours,
11. LIGHTFOOT.
• he undersigned still continues to treat Cliro- 1
'c oases from a distance at his office,or either of
e city boarding houses, and at a distance
irougl' the mail or by private hand. Those
io ilont require personal attention, are treated
‘ ive dollars per month, those who do, at the
t n ! 1 '"operate rates. Those who are able to
P’ly must expect to do so, without variation from
r terms, unless a distinct bargain is made,
use who are not, will be treated gratuitously.
'tiers must be post-paid, and addressed
f . M. B.THOMSON, M. D.
Macon, Ga
THE SOUTHERN MUSEUM.
VOLUME I.
} 3 o r t r g .
The Seasons of Love.
BY G. P. MORRIS.
The Spring-time of love,
Is both happy and gay,
For joy sprinkles blossoms
And balm in our way :
Tlie sky, earth, and ocean
In beauty repose,
And all the bright future
Is couhur de rose.
The Summer of love
Is the bloom ofthe heart,
When hill, grove and valley
Their music impart.
And the pure glow of heaven
Is seen in fond eyes,
As lakes show the rainbow
That’s hung in the skies.
The Autumn of love
Is the season of cheer, —
Life’s mild Indian-summer,
The smile of the year;
Which comes when the golden
Ripe harvest is stored,
And yields its own blessings—
Repose and reward.
The Winter of love
Is the beam that we win
While the storm scowls without,
From the sunshine within.
Love’s reign is eternal,
The heart is bis throne,
And he has all seasons
Os life for his own.
From the Ladies' National Magazine.
MY WIFE’S PARTY.
BY HARRY SUNDERLAND.
A better woman than Mrs. Sunderland does
notexist anywhere, though I do say it myself.
I consider her one of the “salt of the earth,” and
I think I ought to know. Still, Mrs. Sunderland
has her faults—no, I will not call them by so
harsh a name—still, Mrs. Sunderland has her
weaknesses, and one of these is a disposition to
think well of every body. On this head, I be
lieve, no one can accuse me of weakness. lam
not aware that, as a general thing, I think any
better of people than I ought to think. No—l
am not blind to any body’s faults, though I can
see and appreciate excellencies as well as any
one. But to my story.
After we had risen a little in the world, and
could afford not only in our own house, but to
enjoy our share of the elegancies and luxuries of
this life, we found ourselves surrounded by ma
ny who, before, were not over liberal in tlieir
attentions. Mrs. Sunderland believed their
friendship sincere ; but I reserved to myself the
right to doubt the genuineness of some of the
professions that were made. I didn’t like the
“my dear Mrs. Sunderland !” or the particular
solicitude expressed by not a few in any thing
that concerned my wife's welfare ; and when
she talked about Mrs. Jones being such a kind,
good soul, and Miss Peters being so disinterest,
ed in everything, I shrugged my shoulders, and
reserved the privilege of a doubt in regard to all
being gold that glittered.
Not having been raised in fashionable life, we
had no taste for display, and, although we had
our share of company, whether we careJ for it
or not, we had never ventured so far to sea as to
give a party’, althougn we had accepted several
invitations to assemblages of this kind. But
some of Mrs. Sunderland's good friends and ac
quaintances insisted upon it, last winter, that
she must give an entertainment, and they used
such cogent arguments that she, good soul, was
won over. I remained for a long time incorrigi
ble ; but, as nothing could put it out of Mrs.
Sunderland’s head that it was due to her position
and relations to give a party, I, with much re
luctance, withdrew my opposition, and forth
with the note of preparation was sounded.
“Who shall we invite ?’ was the first ques
tion.
Our circle of acquaintance had considerably
increased within two or three years, and when
we went over the list it was found to be rather
large.
“You will have to cut down considerably,”
said I.
“To do so without giving offence will be diffi
cult,” replied my wife.
“Better cut all oft’then,” was on my tongue,
but I repressed the words, feeling that it would
be unkind to throw cold water upon the affair at
that stage of its progress. *
“You haven’t got Fanny and Ellen on your
list,” I remarked, after a good number of era
sures had been made. They were two of my
nieces ; good girls, but poor. Both were dress
maker's apprentices. They were learning a
trade, in order to relieve their father, an indus
trious, but not very thrifty man, from the bur
den of their support. I liked them very much
for their good sense, agreeable manners, and
strong affection for tlieir parents.
“Shall we invite them ?” inquired my wife.
“Certainly!” I replied. ‘‘Why not ?”
“Will they be able to make a good appear
ance ? Y’ou know that a number of fashionable
people will be here.”
“If you doubt it, wo will send them each a
handsome dress pattern with the invitation. ’
“Perhaps we hud bettor do so,’’ was Mrs.
Sunderland's approving remark, and the thing
was done as I had suggested.
The pruning down of the invitation list was
no easy matter, and it was not without many
fears of giving offence that my wife at last fixed
MACOIY, (GA.) SATURDAY MORNING, MAY 19, ISI9.
upon the precise number of persons who were to
honor us with their company.
The exact character ofthe entertainment was
next to be considered, and an estimate of cost
made. Several ladies, au fait in such matters’
Were consulted ; and their opinions compared,
digested, and adopted or rejected, as they agreed
with, or differed from, what we thought right.
“It will cost at least a hundred dollars,” said
Mrs. Sunderland, after we had come to some
understanding as to what we would have. The
sum seemed large in her mind.
“If we get off with two hundred, vve may be
thankful,” I replied.
“Oh, no, I can’t go above a hundred dollars.”
“We shall see.”
•‘lt I thought it would cost so much I would—”
“There is no retreat, now, Mrs. Sunderland.
We have taken the step initiative, and have no
thing to do but to go through with the matter as
best we can. My word for it, we shall not be
very eager to give another party.”
“This threw a damper upon my wife’s feel
ings that I was sorry to perceive, for now that
the party must be given, I wanted to see it done
in as good a spirit as possible. From that time,
therefore, I whs careful not to say anything like'
ly to awaken a doubt as to the satisfactory re
sult of the coming entertainment.
The evening came in due time, and we had
all things ready. I must own that I felt a little
excited, for the giving of a fashionable party was
something new in the history of my life, and I
did not feel altogether at home in the matter
Unaccustomed to the entertainment of company
especially where ceremony and the observance
of a certain etiquette were involved, I was con
scious of an awkward feeling, and would have
given double the cost of the party for the privi
lage ofan escape from the trials and mortifica
tions it promised to involve.
In order to give additional beauty and attrac
tiveness to our parlors, we had purchased sun'
dry articles of ornamental furniture, which cost
over a hundred dollars, and which were of no
manner ol use except to look at.
It was so late before the elite of our company
began to arrive, that we were in some doubt
whether they were coining at all. But toward
nine o’clock they came along, and by ten we
were in the full tide of successful experiment
My nieces, Fanny and Ellen, were among the
first to appear, and they looked pretty and in
teresting.
As soon as the first embarrassment consequent
on the appearance of the extra fashionables bad
worn off, and I felt at home once more in my
house,l began to look around with an observant
eye. About the first thing that attracted my at
tention was the sober aspect of a certain lady,
whose husband, by a few fortunate adventures,
had acquired some money, and lifted her into
“good society,” as it is called. She was talking
to another lady, and I saw that her eyes were
directed toward my nieces, of whom I felt a lit
tle proud, they looked and behaved so well.
“What is ail this about ?” said I to myself.
And I kept my eyes npon the ladies as intently
as they did upon Ellen and Fanny. Presently I
saw one of them toss her head with an air of dig
nified contempt, and rising up, make her way
across the room to where her husband stood.—
She spoke to him in evident excitement, and
directed his attention to my nieces. The sight
of them did not seem to produce any unpleasant
effect upon him, for he merely shrugged up his
shoulders, .and answered in a few words that I
couid see were indifferent. But his wife was in
earnest, and placing her arm within his, drew
him toward the door. He remonstrated—but
she was not in a humor to listen to anything,
and with surprise I saw them retire from the par
lors. My first impulse was to follow them, but
the truth flashing across my mind, I felt indig'
nant at such conduct, and resolved to let them
do as they pleased. In a little while, the offend
ed Indy f , bonnetted, cloaked and boaed, came
sweeping past the parlor doors, with her hus
band in her train, attracting the attention of a
third part ofthe company. A moment after and
she had passed into the street.
“Who is that? What’s ttie matter?” went
whispering about the rooms.
“It is Mrs. L .”
“Mrs. L . ! Is she sick r '
“Why has she gone ?”
But no one seemed at first to know. Soon,
however, the lady to whom 6he had communi
cated the fact that we had insulted our company
by inviting “mantua-making girls,” whispered
to another the secret, and away it went buzzing
through the rooms, finding its way as well to
the ears of Fanny and Ellen as to those of the
rest of the company. About one half of the la
dies present did not exactly seem to know whe
ther they ought to follow the example of Mrs.
L .or not; and there was a portentous mo
ment, when almost the wavingofa finger would
have caused our party to break up in disorder.
The moment my nieces understood the feeling
that prompted the lady to withdraw indignantly,
they arose, and were retiring from the room,
when I intercepted and detained them with as
little cetemony as possible. They begged hard
to be permitted to retire, but I said no; for my
blood was “up,” as the saying is.
“Ellen and Fanny are worth as many Mrs.
L ,’s,” said I to my self, “as you can find
from here to Jericho.”
The disaffected ones noticed, I suppose, my
decision in the matter, and thought it prudent
not to break with Mr. and Mrs. Sunderland, who
could afford to be independent. Money is a
great tiling! Humph! There was a time in
our history—but no matter. We are people of
character and standing now !
We had rather a dull time after the withdraw
al of Mrs. L Fora little while the spi
rits of the company rallied, under the effects of
wine and a good supper, hut they soon flagged
again, and a sober cast of tho t settled upon al-
most every countenance. My poor wife found
it almost impossible to retain a cheerful exte
rior ; and my nieces looked as if almost any
other place in the world would have been a par
adise to it.
At least an hour earlier than we had anticipa*
ted, our rooms were deserted, and we left alone
with our thoughts, which, upon the whole,
were not very agreeable. Mrs. Sunderland, the
moment the last guest retired, went back into
the brilliantly lighted parlors, and sitting down
upon the sofa, burst into tears. She had pro
mised herself such pleasure, but, alas! bow bit
terly had she been disappointed ! I was excited
and indignant enough to say almost anything,
and a dozen times, as I paced the rooms back
ward and forward, did I check myself when
about uttering words that would only have made
poor Mrs. Sunderland feel ten times worse tliau
she did*.
“The next time we give a party ”
“We wont!” said I, taking the words out of
my wife’s mouth. She was recovering from
her state of mortification, and beginning to feel
indignant.
“You’ve said it exactly,” responded Mrs.
Sunderland. “Icall this throwing away a cou
ple of hundred dollars in a very bad cause.”
“So it strikes me. When fifty or sixty people
eat an elegant supper, and drink wine at my ex
pense again, they will behave themselves better
than some of our high bred ladies did to-night.
As for Mrs. L ~ Fanny and Ellen arc
worth a hundred of her. It's my opinion, thnt
if she knew everything, she would curtail her
dignity a little. If I’m not very much mistaken
her hnsband will go to the wall before a twelve
month passes.”
On the next day we settled all accounts with
confectioner, wine merchant, china dealers and
waiters The bills were over a hundred and
fifty dollars, exclusive of a hundred dollars paid,
as before intimated, for parlor ornaments to grace
the orrniaion
“So much for world wisdom,’’ said I, afterall
was over. “I don’t think we need to give ano
ther party.”
Mrs. Sunderland sighed and shook her head.
Poor soul! Her kind and generous nature was
hurt. She looked upon anew phase of charac
ter, and the discovery had wounded her deeply.
A few months after this unfortunate party,
from which so little pleasure and so much pain
had sprung, I said to my wife on coming home
one day—
“lt's as I expected. Pride must have a fall.”
“Why do you say that ? What has happen
ed ?” enquired Mrs. Sunderland.
“L . has failed, as I predicted, and his
lady wife, who turned up her aristocratic nose
at our excellent nieces, is likely to see the day
when she will stand far below them in society.”
I spoke in an exulting voice. But my wife re
proved my levity. She cherished no animosi
ties, and had long since forgiven the offence.
So much for My Wife's Party.
Courtship among the Pawnees. —When the
lover wishes to break the ice, he comes to her
father’s tent, uninvited, and sits on the corner of
the mat for a considerable time and then goes
away without speaking.—This is the prclimin.
ary step, answering, perhaps, to the first gentle
pressure of the hand, the first blushing hesitation
in address—the first mutual glance of understan
ding. After a few days, the young man returns,
wearing his buffalo robe with the hair outward,
and again sits down silent in the corner of the
tent.—This is a proposal—a regular “popping
of the question.” If the father is determind to
reject hitn, nothing is placed for him to sit on,
and no meat is offered him ; but if he approve
of the match, these rights of hospitality are ob'
served. Feasts are then given by the respec
tive parties, in order to obtain the consent of
their relatives. If both feasts terminate favor
ably in this respect, the young man presents
himself once more before bis bride, at the door
of her tent,and she turns round and follows him
—the marriage is then complete. If she remains
sitting, it is a sign that her family decline the
match. All this is done without a word passing
between the intended bride and husband that is
to be. But the most extraordinary part of the
affairs is, that having married an elder sister, he
has aright to marry all the younger ones as they
successively attain the age of womanhood. The
author adds, “ I have seen several chiefs who
have in this manner married a whole family ;
tho eldest wife being the greatest drudge, and
the y oungest being generally the favorite Sul
tana, and consequently doing the least work.”
Facts in Physiology. —Elephants live for
two, three, and even four hundred years. A
healthy, full-grown elephant consumes thirty
pounds ofgrain per day. Bats, in India,are call,
ed flving-foxes, and measure six feet from tip
to tip. Sheep, in wild pastures, practise self,
defense by an array in which rams stand fore
most, in concert with ewes and lambs, in the
centre of a hollow square. Three Hudson’s
Bay dogs draw a sledge, loaded with 300 Jbs.,
fifteen miles a day. One pair of pigs will increase
in six years to 119,160, taking tho increase at
fourteen times per annum. A pair of sheep, in
the same time, would be but 64. A single femal e
house fly produces in one season 29,080,320 eggs
The flea, grasshopper, and locust jump 200 times
their own length, equ&l to a quarter of a mile
for a man.
A Strait Subject. —“ Well, Captain,” sa_v s
a California adventurer to the owner of a craft
up for California, 44 when do you sail ?”
“On Tuesday,” said the Captain.
44 How do you go ?” said the interrogator.
“ Through the Straits,” said the Captain ;
shall I book you for the voyage?”
44 1 reckon not,” said the searcher of gold. “ I
left home to get out of a strait, and am not vol
untarily going into another.”
DUMBER 2 !h.
The Boat of Life.
BY MOORE.
Let's take this world as some wide scene,
Through which, in frail but buoyant boat,
With skies now rude and now serene,
Together thou and I must float;
Beholding oft on either shore,
Bright spots where we should love to stray ;
But Time plies with his flying oar,
And on we speed—away, away.
Some chilling winds and rain come on,
We'll raise our awning ’gainst the shower—
Sit closer till the storm is gone,
And smiling wait a sunnier hour,
And if that sunnier hour should shine,
We'll know its brightness cannot stav,
And, happy while ’tis thine and mine,
Complain not when it fades away-.
Thus reach we both, at last, that full,
Down which life's currents all must go—
The dark, the brilliant destined all
To sink into the void below ;
Nor e en that hour shall want its charms,
If side by side still fond we keep,
And calmly in each other's arms
Together linked, go down the steep.
The Mechanic’s Advantage. —Not many
years ago, a Polish lady ofplebeian birth, but of
exceeding beauty and accomplishments, won the
affections of a young noblemnn, who having her
consent, solicited her from her father in mar
riage, and was refused. VI e may easi'y imagine
the astonishment of the young nobleman.
14 Am I not,’ said he, “of sufficient rank to
aspire to your daughter's hand.'”
“ You are undoubtedly of the best blood of
Poland.”
“ Then, having your daughter’s consent, how
could I expect a refusal.”
“ This, sir,” said the father, 44 is my only child,
and her happiness is the chief concern of my
life. All the possessions of fortune are preca
rious. What fortune gives, at her caprice she
takes away. I see no security for the indepen
dance and comfortable living of a wife but one ;
in a word I am resolved that no one shall be the
husband of my daughter, who is not master of
a trade.”
The nobleman bowed his head and retired
silently. In a year or two after, the latter was
sitting at the door, and saw approaching his cot,
waggons loaded with baskets, and heading the
bavalcade, the nobleman in the dress of a basket
maker. He was now master of a trade, and
brought the wares made by his own bands for in
spection, and certificate from his employer that
he was master of his business
The condition being fulfilled, no farther ob
stacle was opposed to the marriage. But the sto
ry is not yet done. The revolution came—for.
tunes were plundered—and lords were scattered
lake chaff before the four winds of heaven.
Kings became beggars—some of them teachers—
and the noble Pole supported his wife and her
father in the infirmities of age, by his basket
making industry.
Anecdote for Young Ladies. —We remem
ber somewhere to have read a story of a youth,
who, hesitating in his choice between two young
ladies, by both of whom he was beloved, was
brought to a decision by means of a rose. It
happened one day', as all three were wandering
in a garden that one of the girls, in her haste to
pluck anew blown rose, wounded her finger
tvitli a thorn ; it bled freely, and applying the
petals of a white rose to the wound, she said,
smiling, “I am a second Venus’, I have dvcdlhe
white rose reil.” At that moment they heard
a scream ; and fearing the oiheryoung lady, who
had loitered behind, had met with a accident,
hastened hack to nsiist her. The fair one’s scream
had been called forth by no worse an accident
than had befallen her companion. She had an
grily thrown away the offending flower, and
made so pertinacious and fretful a fomentation
aver her wounded finger, that tho youth, after
a little reflection, resolved on a speedy union
with the least handsome, but most amiable of
the two young friends.
How to Make Home Happy. —Nature is
is most industrous in adorning her domains ; and
man, to whom this bounty is addressed, should
obey the lesson. Let him, too, be industrious
in adorning his domain—in making his home,
the dwelling of his wife and children, not only
convenient and comfortable, but pleasant. Let
him, as far as circumstances will permit, be in
dustrious in surrounding it with pleasant objects
—in decorating it, within and without, with
things that tend to make it agreeable and attrac
tive. Lei industry make home the abode of
neatness and order—a place which, brings satis
faction to every inmate, and which, in absencei
draws back the heart by the fond associations of
comfort and content. Let this bo done, and this
sacred spot w ill breome more surley the scene of
cheerfulness and peace. Ye parents, who wbuld j
have your children happy, be industrious to
bring them up in the midst of a pleasant, a cheer,
ful, and a happy home. Waste not your time
in accumulating wealth for them ; but plant in
their minds and souls, in the way proposed, the
seeds of virtue and prosperity.
Advertisement in the London Times.—
Jane, your absence will ruin all. Think of your
husband, your parents, your children. Return,
return—all many be well, happy. At any rate,
enclose the key of the cup-board where the gin
is.
Modesty. —A modest lady, desiring a fog of a
chicken at a table, said, 44 she would take that
part which ought to be dressed in pantaloons /’
A young gentleman opposite immcdiatelr called
forbat p art which usually xcears the bustle!'
BOOK AND JOB PRINTING,
Will be executed in the most approved style
and on the best terms,at the Office of the
SCTJTHEPsIT MTJSETM,
-BY—
WM. tt. HARRISON.
FLOWERS.
“Aunt Charity,” discourses as follows in the
Tennessee State Agriculturist, in relation to the
cultivation of Flowers :
Young ladies cultivate flowers ! you will find
your interest will be so great in them, that you
will be up with the lark, to see what progress
your buds have made through the night; the
morning air will brace and invigorate you ; you
will find intruders in the shape of sprigg ofgrass
—which your bump of order will not tolerate ;
pulling them out will be good exercise; air and
exercise will promote health and cheerfulness ;
your checks will rival your ros,e from nature's
own pure hue.
Mothers, cultivate flowers, that your children
may emulate your good example that home may
be the sweetest spot to them ; our first mother
was placed in a garden as the most appropriate
place for one who was to be partner of him who
was formed after the imago of his Maker; that
her first lessons might be taught from nature’s
most beautiful leaves of instruction. If we feel
troubled and careworn, for troubles will come,
does not a walk among the flowers calm and
soothe us by leading our thoughts to more pleas
ing things, to the manifold kindness of our heav
enly Futher in studding the earth with so many
jewels ? Our imaginations can scarce keep pace
with the varieties of color and texture, all His
handy work. Are we not taught that this is not
our abibing place, by the flowers? in autumn
they fade, wither and die; in spring they bud
forth with renewed splendor and beauty, blos
som and send forth their richest perfume as in
cense meet for the Creator of all good; shall we
be more ungrateful than the simple violet, and
not send the incense of our praise for all His
mercies ?
He gave flowers as ministers of his love to us,
we use them as emblems of love and esteem to
our fellow creatures; who would reduce all
things to mere utility ? Our Creator has set us
•a better example; flowers arc cf the earth, her
children, and she nurtures them with her tears :
do they not richly repay her kindness ? Are we
not told that Solomon in all his glory, was not
clad likeone ofthe simple “ lilliesof the field,”
they arc associated with all that is beautiful,
elegant and lovely ; they deck the bride, the May
Queen, and the solemnities of the burial ; they
are associated with our earliest and most pleas
ant recollection of home. —YVho does uot re
member some favorite flower of “my mother's ?”
What woman docs not remember how often she
has been led from nature “ up to nature's God,’’
by the simple structure of a flower, and what
woman of refinement, sensibility, and affection,
but loves flowers ? indeed, they bear a close re
semblance of her lot, and
“No marvel woman should love flowers ; they
bear
So much of fanciful similitude
To her own history ; like herself repaying
With such sweet interest all the cherishing
That call their beauty or their sweetness forth,
And like her, too, dying beneath neglect.”
The House Mit a Big Chimney. —About a
year ago the proceedings of the Washington
Monument Society, at Washington, rccieved a
sudden impetus. Among other measures adopt
ed to procure sufficient funds for the completion
of the edifice, was that of appointing an agent in
each Congressional district throughout the Uni
ted States, who were furnished with litho
graphs of the future monument, which were pre
sented to such gentlemen as chose to subscribe.
One ofthese gentlemen called one day at tho
house of a very wealthy farmer in the upper end
ofDauphin county, Pa. The whole family were
soon assembled to look at the beautiful pictures.
In the meantime the agent used all his eloquence
to induce the steady old German to “ plank his
tin.” He portrayed the service of Washington
to his country ; he dwelt in glowing terms upon
the gratitude we should all feel for them.
Suddenly the farmer broke silence : “ What is
all dis for ?”
The agent began—“ Y’ou know who Washing
ton was ?”
“Yes, he was the first he licked
the British, didn’t he ?”
“ Yes, that’s the man ; and this monument is
to be erected as a fitting testimonial of the eter
nal gratitude of his countrymen, &c.”
The anticipated subscriber studied the plate
attentively.
“ Well,’’ said he, “ I won’t pay anything to
ward it; “ I don’t see no use to build mit sich &
big chimney.
The agent immediately “ dispersed.”
Perfect Happiness. —A laundress, who was
employed in the family of one of our former gov
ernors, said to him, with a sigh :
“Only think, your excellency, how little mo
ney would make me happy.”
“How little, madame ?” says the governor.
“Oh ! dear sir, one hundred dollars would
make me perfectly happy.”
I “If that is all, you shall have it,” and he im
mediately gave it to her.
She looked at it with joy and tbankfuiness,
and before the governor was out of hearing, ex
claimed :
“/ wish I had said two hundred.'’
A Willing Debtor. —Sir Walter Scott, oi»
one occasion, was desirious ofrewarding the wit
and importunity of an Irish beggar by the pres
ent of sixpence, but found be bad aot so small a
coin in his purse. 44 Here, my . good fellow,”
said the baronet, “ here is a shilling, but mind,
you owe me sixpence.” 44 God bless your hon
or,” exclaimed Pat,“ may your honor live till I
pay you J’’
The author of Ivanhoe was highly tickled at
•lie naive reply.
Why i« a fiddle like a handsome young lady ?
Because it aiu’t no use without a bow— (hi an.)