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THE
(a ®Tff?psGsiß»
~ published every MTVHDAY Morning,
In the Brick Building , at the Corner of
Cotton Avenue and First Street,
I!f t he city of maco*, ca.
UV H ’l. 15. HARRISON.
TERMS:
■ p iP cr, in advance, per annum, #2.
*j* r l' „ n ;,l in advance, $2 50, per annum.
If not paid until tllC end oftheYear $ 3 00 ;
Advertisements will be inserted at the usual
nd when the number of insertions de
f4to,s is S not specified, they will be continued un
'[forbid and charged accordingly.
ir-’advertisers by the Year will be contracted
*,th upon the most favorable terms.
g a i e3 of Land by Administrators, Executors
r (Tnardians, are required by Law, to be held on
? fi- i Tuesday in the month, between the hours
In "o'clock in the Forenoon and three in the Af-
W l 1 t h e Court House of the county in which
IS ,Ts sftuate. Nonce ofthese Lies must
l,e given in a public gazette sixty pays previous
| to of Negroes by Administators, Execu-
Itorjor Guardians, must be at Public Auction on
Ihe first Tuesday in the month between the legal
■hours of sale, before the Court House of the county
■ where the Letters Testamentary, or Administration
lifSiluraonbi* sute, and « doorol the
Hmise where such sales are to be held.
C irr Votice for the sale of Personal Property must
begivenin like manner forty hays previous to
the day of sale. , _
irj*Notice to the Debtors and Creditors olan Es
tate must be published for forty days.
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
I a te for FOUR months, before any order absolute
can be given by the Court.
a for 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
(rj'llctKS for the foreclosure of a Mortgage,;
must be puolished monthly for four months—
for establishing lost Papers, for the full space of
three months— for compellingTitlesfrom Ex-
I ecutors, Administrators or others, where a Bond
hasbeen given by the deceased, the full space of
THREE MONTHS. .....
N. 11. All Business of this kind shall receiv
orompt attentionat the SOUTHERN MUSEL M
! Office, and strict care will be taken that all legal
Advertisements are published according to Law.
O*AII Letters directed to this Office or the
Editor on business, must be post-paid, to in
-cm aVontinn. >T
“A LH I'LL .tlOßli liKAPE.”
11HE undersigned, true to Ins promise, again
presents to the Public more data on which
lliev can safely base their calculations relative
to the respective merits of the depleting system
of the disciples of Esculnpius, and ol that invig
orating and phlogestic one of which lie is proud
to be the advocate.
Leaving the stilts of egotism and shafts of rid
icule for tiie use of those vvlib 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, he chooses simply to assail the
ranks of the enemy occasionally with “a little
more grape,’* in the form of facts,which are evi
.(lpstlv the hardest kind of arguments since they
oftenad minister to Ins quiet amusement by the
terrible destruction they cause among the stilts
*nd the ludicrous effect they produce in causing
certain individuals to laugh, as it is expressed in
ifcoinely phrase, “on t’other side the mouth.”
The Mexicans are not the only people, these
days, whom vanitj has blinded to tlielr own de
fects ; neither can they claim much superiority
in the way of fancied eminence and blustering
bravado over maay that live a great deal nearer
home. A salutary lesson lias latterly been giv
en the former by the Americans, and the latter
mav ere long take “ another of the same ” ala
msdc de Tat,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 wo
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 case 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 13. lIASCAL.
Macon. June 22d, 1848.
Dr. M. S. Thomson — Dear Sir :—Deeming it
a duty I 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 niodeof thereby
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 184(i, I ap
plied to you. Between these attacks I liadavcrj
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 I had reduced
from being a strong, fleshy man,down to a mere
skeleton and could hardly creep about.—When
I applied to you, I had hut little faith in being
cured, though I had witnessed some wonderful
Tesults following your treatment, especially the
cure of that crazy woman you bought of Aquil
*a Phelps, in Jasper, yet they gave me confi
dence and by persevering in the use of your
i'cntediea, and as it were Imping against hope,
am much gratified in being able to announce
that 1 have got entirely well, for I have had hut
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 ofSfty-one, which is my age. Without
disparagement to the characterofthc othercures
that have so frequently resulted from your prac
*,cc ’ *do not think that any of them can beat
1 is, for confirmed Asthma combined with a
onsumptiec cough, especially where the flesh
ms wasted, lias long been classed among the iii
ureables. Most respectfully,yours,
. 11. LIGHTFOOT.
ni( The still continues to treat Cliro
the c ? Scs / r °m a distance at his office,or either of
t j lr Clt y boarding houses, and at a distance
who") mal * or *’y private hand. Those
at p* do , nt tequiro personal attention, are treated
usual ", rs per month, those who do, at the
pav'r 111,11 derate rates. Those who are able to
our | n , USt ex P ORt t 0 do so, without variation from
those''.l' 8 ’ un ' css a distinct bargain is made,
r .' v lo arß n,> t> will be trented gratuitously.
ers must be post-paid, and addressed
r„L, M.B.THOMSON. M. D.
Macon, Ga.
THE SOUTHERN MUSEUM.
VO LUME I.
13 o f t r g .
PASSING AWAY.
BY REV. JOHN PIERPOST.
Was it the chime of a tiny bell
That came so sweet to my dreaming ear,
Like t'he silvery tones of a fairy’s shell,
That he winds on the beach so mellow and
clear;
When the winds and the waves lie together
aslecp,
And the moon and the fairy are watching the
d< cp—
She dispensing her silvery light,
And he his notes as ailvery quite,
\V bile the boatman listens and ships his oar
To calch the music that comes from the shore.
Hark ! the notes on my ear that play,
Are set to words : as they float, they say
“Passing away ! Passing away.”
But no ! It is not a fairy’s shell,
Blown on the beach, so mellow and clear,
Nor was it the tongue of a silver bell
Striking the hours, that fell on my car
As I lay in my dream ; yet was it a chime
That told of the flow of the stream of time.
For a beautiful clock from the ceiling hung,
And a plump littlegirl for a pendulum swung;
(As you've sometimes seen in a little
ring
That hangs in his cage, a canary bird
swing;)
And she held to her bosom a budding
bouquet,
And as she enjoyed it, she seemed to
say,
“Passing away ! Passing away !”
Ob ! how bright were the wheels that told
Os the lapse of time, as they moved round
slow !
And the hands as they swept o'er the dial of
gold,
Seemed to point to the girl below.
And lo she had changed ; in a few short hours
Her bouquet had become a garland of flowers
That s he held in her outstretched hands, and
flung
Thisvv ay and that, as she dancing swung
In the fulness and grace of womanly pride,
That bold me she soon was to be a bride—
Yet then, when expecting her happiest
lay,
In the same sweet voice I heard her say
•“Passing away ! Passing away !”
While I gazed on that fair one’s cheek, a shade
Os tl lought, or care, stole softly over,
Like tffiat by a cloud in a summer’s day made,
Looking down on a field of blossoming clo
ve r.
The rose yet lay on her cheek, but its flush
Had something lost of its brilliant blush ;
And the light in her eye, and the light on
tb* wheels
That marched so calmly round above her,
Was; a little dimmed —as when evening
steals
Upon noon’s hot face : yet one could but love
her;
Tor she looked like a mother whose
first babe lay
Rocked on her breast, as she swung all
day ;
And she seeuied in the same silver tone
to say,
“Passing away ! Passing away !”
While yeti looked, what a change therecame!
Her eye was quenched and her check was
wtin ;
Stooping and staffed was her withered frame,
Yet just as busily swung she on.
The garland beneath her bad fallen to dust;
The wheels above her were eaten with rust ;
The hands that over the dial swept,
Grew crooked and tarnished, but on they kept;
And still there came that silver tone,
From the shrivelled lips of the toothless crone,
(Let me never forget to my dying day,
The tone or the burden of that lay,)
“Passing away ! Passing away !”
From Godey's Lady's Booh for June.
The Editor’s Copy.
BY THE EDITOR OF .
Mr. Godey —l have copied your pros
pectus into the for the last five
years, regularly, while you have honorably
complied with your part of the contract,
and as regularly sent me your excellent
“Lady's Book,” a work to which I have
always been partial. But I have pretty
well made up in my mind not to insert
your advertisement again ; and when I in
form you of the reason, I think you will
not wonder at the resolution I have form
ed. If I were permitted to enjoy your de
lightful periodical in peace—if I could
even get the quiet reading of every other
number —I would publish two prospectus
es a year, if necessary, but that I would
obtain it. This pleasure, however, I can
not have ; and Godey’s Lady s Book, in
6tea.d of coming to mo a welcome visitor,
always brings vexation and disappoint
ment.
You look surprised at so strange an an
nouncement, but it is just as I say. Let
me give you a history of what occurred on
the reception of your last number, and you
will ploarly comprehend my meaning.
MACON, (CA.) SATURDAY MORNING, MAY 26, 1849.
The boy had just laid the mail on my
table, and I, having torn the wrapper from
the March number of your “ Book,” was
taking my first glance at the plates, when
the door of my sanctum was opened quick
ly, and a young Miss came bounding in.
“ Has the ‘ Godey’s Lady’s Book’ come
yet ?” she asked, with as much assurance
as if the work were taken for her particu
lar benefit, and regularly paid for.
I could not say “ no,” even if my con
science would have permitted the utter
ance of a falsehood, for the number was in
my hand, and the young chit’s eye fasten
ed on it in a moment.
“ Oh! ye3, it’s come !” she said, before
I had lime to make any reply. “ Sister
says, will you please let her have it
first V'
Now, the young lady who made the ap
plication was the daughter of an old sub
scriber and advertiser, and to have refused
a compliance with her wishes would have
been money out of my pocket. So I re
plied, as blandly as l could—
“ Come over, Lizzy, in about half an
hour, and you shall have it.”
“ Can’t you send it over ?” inquired the
girl, fixing hereyes intently on the “Book.”
“ Sister saw the boy go by with the news
papers, and she sent me right over for
fear somebody else would get the maga
zine first, if it had come.”
“ Oh, no ; I won’t let any one else have
it,” I replied. “Do you come over in
half an hour.”
“ Sister is so impatient to see it,” said
the girl, as she retired slowly.
I had gained, I thought, half an hour by
this unusual act of firmness, and I hoped
to be able to examine the plates carefully,
glance over the editorial notices, and get
a general idea of what the number con
tained before Lizzy came back. But I
was mistaken. Lizzy had not been out of
my office ten minutes ere the door opened
and Mrs. L , wife of my very particu
lar frind, Colonel L , came in. I laid
the “Book” down as she entered.
“Just what I came for,” said Mrs. L ,
familiarly, as she stepped forward and
seized upon the book. “Is it a good num
ber, Mr. ?”
‘•Yes, ma’am, I should think it was t
from the slight glance I have had of its
contents. AVon’tyou take a chair ?”
“Oh, no, thank you. Good morning.
I’ll bring this back in a day or two.” And
the lady was retiring without further cer
emony.
“Mrs. L said I, stepping for
ward, “pardon me. But I have promised
that number to Miss R in half an
hour.”
“Oh, never mind ! Miss R can
have it in the morning.”
“But”—
“Oh, none of your ifs, and ands, and
buts, with me;—l’ve got the Book, and
you know that possession is nine points in
the law,” replied the lady, with laughing
resolution. “So, good morning! Tell
Mis R that I’ve got the number.”
“Yes—but Mrs. L ”
“Good morning!” And thelady waved
me a triumphant adieu, and retired with
the Book.
“Well, that is cool!” said Ito myself
as I settled back in my arm-chair and rais
ed my feet upon the table. “Cool enough!”
I was not angry at the lady, for she
was a very particular friend—so was her
husband—and I liked them both. But
she had “done” me out of my Lady’s
Book ; there was no mistake in that; and,
moreover, had gotten me into a sort of a
scrape.
Punctual to the moment, in came Liz
zy at the expiration of the half hour.
“Tell your sister that I am very sorry
indeed,” said I, in a really serious tone,
and with a serious face, “that I cannot
send her the number. I fully intended
that she should have had it; but Mrs. L
came in and carried it off befoie I could
prevent it.”
Lizzy’s countenance fell.
“Sister will be so disappointed,” she
said. “And you promised, positively, that
she should have it in half an hour.”
“I know I did, Lizzy. And I intend
ed that she should have it. Tell her lam
very sorry indeed ; and that I will get
the number for her to-morrow morning,
and send it over.”
Lizzy retired, with an expression in
her eyes and about her lips, which said
pretty plainly that she did not believe my
story about Mrs. L having carried the
number off. This worried me; for I was
satisfied that the little minx wou’d convey
that impression to her sister.
In the morning I sent a note to Mrs.
L , requesting her to return the Book,
I had promised positively that Miss R
should have it. My messenger returned
in due time, with information that Mrs.
L had loaned the number to Mrs.
M , and that I must not expect to get
it back for a week, as there were ten in
the house to read it; and after they were
through, it had to go to Mrs. M’s cousin,
who had already spoken for the number.
“Oh, dear!” said I, sinking back into
my chair. “Isn’t this too bad !”
What was I to do? I had promised
Miss R the Book; but the promise
could not be complied with. If there had
been an agent in the place, from whom I
could have bought a number, theie would
have been a smooth sea before me. But
our town is too small to support a periodi
cal agent. In my dilemma, I sat down
and wrote a note, apologetic, to Miss
R , and assured her that the moment
I could get possession of the Book I would
send it to her. In about fifteen minutes I
had this reply :
“Miss R ’s compliments to Mr.
world—not the least. If Mr. pre
fers letting others have the Book, of course
no one has a right to complain. It is his
property.”
“My property!” said I, throwing the
note of the offended lady aside. “I was
not aware of that before ! If it is my pro
perty, I should amazingly like to enjoy it
in some sort of peace and comfort.”
On the next day, Mr. R—— called in,
looking very grave. He asked for his bill;
and, after paying it, desired me to dis
continue his paper at the end of the cur
rent six months.
“Confound Godey’s Lady’s Book !” said
I, the door closed upon my lost subseti
ber. “The next time I publish Mr. Go
dey’s prospectus, it will do him good.”
I saw no more of the number for three
weeks, although applications for it came
in almost every day. When it at la3t
found its way back, oh ! what a change
was there ’ The “Lost Dove” had disap
peared altogether; so had the “Oakland
Gallopade;” and the lady “Dusting Cu
pid” had been wounded in both eyes with
a pin—you could see daylight through
them. The design for a “Watch Pocket
in crochet and netting,” which I had al
ready described to my sister, and which
she intended taking for a pattern, had
been clipped off with a pair of scissors,
leaving the mutilated page as a pleasing
evidence of the piracy committed by some
fair reader of my number of the Lady’s
Book. As for the fashion plates, they
bore many Roiling indications of having
been in the hands of bread and butter
Misses; and the cover, besides being torn
and worn, was in the same condition. I
threw the number from me in disgust, vow
ing to end the annoyance I had suffered
for years by forfeiting my right to receive
the Book.
If this were only a solitary case, Mr.
Godey, I would not be so impatient about
it. But as it was with the March number
so has it been with all the rest. All the
numbers of your Book issued for the last
five years have I received, yet I am not
owner of ten of them, and these are in a
shocking state.
Seriously, I believe the fact of my get
ting your Book is a serious injury to you.
Not over two besides mine are taken in
this neighborhood, one half of which de
pends upon reading the editor’s copy. So,
for your sake, as well as mine, please
stop sending the magazine ; at least for
the present. In the course of six months,
I have uot the least doubt, you will have
twenty subscribers in our village; for if
people cannot borrow your Book they will
buy it—once enjoyed, the luxury cannot
be dispensed with.
Importance of Study in Youth. —Sir
Walter Scott says, “if it should ever fall
to the lot of youth to peruse these pages
let such a reader remember that it is with
the deepest regret that I recollect in my
manhood the opportunities of learning
which I neglected in my youth ; that
through every part of my literary career,
I have felt pinched and hemmed by my
own ignorance; and I would at this mo
ment give half the reputation I have had
the good fortune to acquire if by so doing
I could rest the remaining part upon a
sound foundation of learning and science.”
NUMBER 26.
THE WIZARD OF ST. GABELLE.
“You wish to hear a ghost story,” said my
Uncle Baylc, one evening, as we gathered
about his chair—“you wish to hear a ghost sto.
rv ; very well, you shall have your wish. I
will relate an incident of which I myself was
witness, and which is, therefore, strictly true.”
W'e drew still closer to the old gentleman,
and listened with the greatest interest as lie re
lated the following adventure :
One evening in autumn, full forty years ago,
I was returning from Toulouse. I had travelled
far that day, having already passed Auteritive,
where some friends of miue would have had
me spend the night, but 1 was resolved to push
on to Suverdun, which, you know, is three
leagues distant on the road. I- had arrived in
front of the monastery of Boulbreune, when sud
denly there hurst forth a terrible storm- In a
moment the night became dark and the road im
passable. I should have asked shelter in the
convent, but my horse, frightened at a sudden
clap of thunder, dashed into a narrow pathway
to the left, and bore men away in spite of all I
could do. Notwithstanding the speed at which
wc went, I soon perceived that we were on the
direct road to St. Gabelle. And when, at last,
my horse slackened his pace, which he did of
his own good will, I found tnyself before the
village inn.
I entered. The guests were numerous, a
mong whom I observed several Spanish mer
chants, and some hunters, who, like myself,
had been overtaken by the storm. We dried
our clothes by the fire; after which supper was
announced, and we sat down to the table
The conversation first turned upon the stormy
weather, and the badness of the roads. One
said he had been thrown from his horse ; and he
had been a full hour extricating his horso and
wagon from a mud hole.
“It is horrible weather," said a third. “Just
the time for ghosts and witches.”
Although this was but a natural remark, it
gave rise to a lively conversation.
“Sorcerers and spirits choose a clear, moon
light night to hold their orgies in preference to
such a one as this."
We turned to look at the author of this obser
vation, and saw it was one of the Spanish mer
chants.
“It would seem that the gentleman was fami
liar with the customs of ghosts,” answered a
young man at my side, “and that they have told
him thatthey like to get neither muddy nor wet.”
“Young man,” said the Spaniard, casting a
terrible glance at the last speaker, “speak not so
lightly on a subject with which you are so little
acquainted.”
“Would you like to make me believe in
ghosts?” returned the young man, disdainfully.
“Perhaps,” replied the Spaniard, “if you have
sufficient courage to look on them.”
Flushed with anger, the young man sprang to
his feet. In a moment, however, he calmed
himself, and sat down again, saying—
“ You should pay dear for that remark, were
it not uttered by a madman.”
“A madman,” echoed the other, rising in his
turn. “Listen," lie added, striking the table
with liis fist, and throwing down a heavy leath
er purse. “Here are thirty quadruples which I
am willing to lose, if within an hour I do not
call up before your face the figure of any de
ceased person you shall name, even though he
has been dead ten years ; and if, after recogni
zing him, you dare to allow him to imprint a
kiss upon your lips.”
“You will do that?” said thoyoungman, with
a scornful Smile.
“Yes,” said the Spaniard, “on condition that
you lose the same amount if I succeed.”
“Thirty quadruples, my worthy conjurer,”
said the young man, gaily, after a moment’s si
lence, “is more than a student of Toulouse eve r
possessed, but if you reduce the stake to five, I
am your man.”
The Spaniard took up his purse, saying, “Ah,
you refuse, monsieur?"
“I refuse ?” echoed the other. “If I only
had thirty quadruples, you would see.”
“Here are fsur,” said 1, “which I add to your
stake.”
Several others followed my example, and
soon we had the sum made up.
We chose for the triala small pavilion in the
garden ; so entirely isolated that it offered no
chance for fraud. We made ourselves sure that
there was but two outlets; a window, which
was carefully closed, and a door, on the outside
of which we were posted. L T pon the tables had
been placed materials for writing, and the lights
had been carried away. The young man was
shut up alone in the pavilion, the Spaniard re
maining with us outside the door.
A broathless silence prevailed for a moment,
when the Spaniard began to chant, in a soft,
melancholy voice, a stanza, which may be trans
lated thus :
And the coffin is broken with a crash ;
And the grave is opening ;
And the pale phantom’s dark foot is placed
Upon the verdant moss.
After this first stanza, the Spaniard raised his
voice, and said, solelmnly, “you have asked to
see your friend, Francois Vialat, who was
drowned in the sea three years ago. What do
you behold ?"
“A whitish light arising near the window,”
replied the student, “but it is only a shapeless,
wavering mist.”
“Are you afraid ?” asked the stern voice of
tiie Spaniard.
“And the young man answered, “I am not
afraid.”
Wc were stupified, breathless with suspense.
The conjurer was silent for a moment. Then
stamping thrice with his foot upon the ground,
BOOK AND JOB PRINTING,
Will be executed in the most approied style
and on the best terms,at the Office of the
SCTTTESHRH X£TJSETJX£,
-BY—
WM. B. HARRISON.
he chanted in a louder and more solemn voice
than before :
And the white phantom whose features pale
Have been discolored by the waves,
Presses the water from hisclothes and hair
With his winding sheet.”
The chant ended. The Spaniard turned again
towards the door and cried in the same solemn
tone ;
“You, who would seek to dive into the mya
teries of the grave—what do you see ?”
We listened anxiouslp, while the student re
plied in a calm voice, and like one who de
scribes an incident ns it is taking plac6 :
“Tfce mist spreads itself, and takes shape like
a phantom. The head is covered with along
veil. It moves not from the spot on which it
rose."
“Are you afraid?” asked the Spaniard.
And the young man answered, “I am not
afraid.”
Stupified, we kept our eyes fixed upon the
conjuror in silent awe, as he proceeded to chant
tiie third solemn stanza :
Then,yys the phpntom, rising from the grave,
That he may recognize me,
I will go toward my friend; smiling, erect and fait
As in the dnys of my youth."
The Spaniard finished, and asked immediate
ly the same terrible question
“Wl»«t do you sec ?”
“The figure advnnces,” replied the student.
"It lifts its veil. It is Francois Vialat. He ap
proaches the tabic. Ho is writing his signature.'•
“Are you afraid ?''
“No," replied the vouiig man, “1 am not
afraid.”
Immediately the Spaniard commenced singing
op rather howling, this last and horrible stnnza
Then, says the phantom to the jeering youth,
Come, let me touch thee now ;
Place thy hand on my hand, thy heart on my
heart,
* Thy lips upon my own.”
“What do you see r” cried the Spaniard, in a
voice of iiiuriucr.
• He comes—lie pursues me—he stretches out
his arms—ho will seize me. Oh, help, help!"
“Arc you afraid ?” cried the conjuror, with
savage joy.
A piercing cry, and then a stifled sob, were
the only answer to this terrible question.
“I think I have won," said the Spaniard, bit
terly ; “but I am satisfied with having taught
him u lesson. Let him keep the money and be
more wise in future."
So saying he walked rapidly away. Fixed
with horror, we re-opened the door, and found
the young student seized with fearful convul
sions. The paper signed by Francois Vialat wa«
upon the table. Recovering, the young matt
demanded the conjuror, and with an oath of
vengeance, rushed from the room. We saw
neither him nor the Spaniard afterward*.
My uncle finished. Trembling with terror*
we dared not look about us. At last I summon
ed sufficient courage to say—
“And why, after all this, do you not believe
in ghosts ?”
“Because, neither the conjuror nor student
ever returned, but ran off with the money we
had advnneed ; whence we concluded that they
were two consummate villains, of whom we
were the dupes. Believe me, my dear child
ren, however probable a ghost sttfry may ap
pear, it will, in the end, prove to be the result
of an excited imagination, or a wilful fraud.”
Who Salted the Sea. —The following scene
is reported to have occurred on board a steam
er carryingdetachments of Alabama and Louis
iana troops to the Mexican war.—lt is a capitaT
joke ;
One tall volunteer from the pine land of Ala
bama was unhappy for the want of employment.
He sauntered along “for something to do," when
it occurred to him that he might,as lie expressed
it, “take a good wash.” He was a tall, lank
fellow, with a shaggy head of dry, grassy hair*
hanging down to his shoulders. With a delibera
tion consistent with an idle sea voyage, he com
menced rubbing the turpentine soap of the ship
into his hair and skin with commedable vehe
mence. He had cause to take a great deal of
pains, for he observed to himself “that he had'an
aero ofbarrack mud on him.”
It must be observed that all this while the ves
sel was blowing further out into the sea; and by
this time the Mississippi wnlerinthe wash room
had become exhausted, and he threw his bucket
over the vessel’s side to replenish his basin.
The firs] dash he made was at his head; tha
turpentine of the soap and the saline ofthe wa
ter soon formed a chemical combination, and th«
oily qualities ofthe soap disappeared, and' left
something in its stead resembling tar. Two or
three rakes of the fingers through the hair eleva
ted it upright on the Alabamian’s head, stiff as
the qull of a porcupine. “That's another trick
played upon me,”said the unwashed, in a rage*
his hair still growing fiercer. Ai ibis mutuant
the water dripped on his face, and he commen
ced spitting, as if nauseated to the last degree.
Coolly and determinedly, he went to his belt,
took a “bowie,” some fifteen inches long, and
delivered hmself thus :—“Some of them thar
Louisianians has played tricks enough on me.
Now, if any one dare, let him fetch me Che on®
that put salt in this ere water !”
Interesting Geological Fact. —Professor
Aggassiz,in a recent lecture,stated an interesting
fact, in connection with his remarks upon the
family of the rose, which includes among its
varieties not only many of the most beautiful
flowers which are known, but also the richest
fruits, such as the apple, pear, peach, plum, apri
cot, cherry, strawberry, raspberry, blackberry,
4fcc—viz. that no fossils belonging to this family
have ever been tlisearcred by geologists. Th»s
is regarded as conclusive evidence that the in
troduction of this family of plants upon earth
was coeval with or subsequent to the creation, of
man.