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' the
sowssiusaa
Hill be published every SATURDAY Morning,
In the Brick Building, at the Corner of
Cotton Avenue and First Street,
| s THE CITY OF MACON, GA.
15V WS. B. IIAKKISOK.
TERMS 7
For tho Paper, in advance, per annum, $2.
if not paid in advance, $2 50, per annum.
If not paid until the end of the Year $3 jOO.
gy Advertisements will be inserted at the usual
rltes and when the number of insertions de
tirod is not specified, they will be continued un
iil forbid and charged accordingly.
dj* Advertisers by tho Year will be contracted
with upon the most favorable terms.
(IfJ’Salesof Land by Administrators, Executors
or Guardians, are required by Law, to be held on
the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours
„f ten o’clock in the Forenoon and three in the Af
ternoon, at the Court House of the county in which
the Property is situate. Notice of these Balesmust
I,e given in a public gazette sixty hays previous
to the day of sale. .
dj"Bales of Negroes by Administators, 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 Administration
or Guardianship may have been granted, first giv
ing notice thereoffor sixty days, in one ofthe pub
lic gazettes of this State, and at the door of the
Court House where such sales are to be held.
iFJ-Notice for the saleof Personal Property must
6e given in like manner forty days previous to
the dav of sale.
to the Debtors and Creditors olan Es
sate must be published for forty days.
Notice 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
Siate for four months, before any order absolute
•can be given by the Court.
jJ'CiTATioss for Letters of Administration on
an Estate, granted by the Court of Ordinary, must
published thirty days— for Letters of Dismis
sion from the administration ofan Estate, monthly
for six months —for Dismission from Guardian
ship forty days.
ijj-Rules for the foreclosure of a Mortgage,
must be published monthly for four months —
for establishing lost. Papers, for the full space of
cnREB months — for compelling Titles from Ex
ecutors, Administrators or others, where a Bond
hasbecn given by the deceased, the full space of
THREE MONTHS.
N. 11. All Business of this kind shall receiv
proinptattentionat the SOUTHERN MUSEUM
Office, and strict care will he taken that all legal
Advertisements are published according to Law.
lUTAII I .otters directed to this Office or the
Editor on business, must be post-paid, to in
jure attention. FT
“A LITTLE ROUE GRAPE.”
rrtKE undersigned, true to Ins promise, again
IL presents to the Public more data on which
thev can safely base their calculations relative
to the respective merits of the depleting system
of llie disciples of Esculapius, and of that invig
orating and plilogestic one of which lie 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
fur 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
dently the hardest kind of arguments since they
often ad minister to Ins quiet amusement by the
terrible destruction they cause among the stilts
and tbs ludicrous effect they produce in causing
certain individuals to laugh, as it is expressed in
homely phrase, “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 lr.aoy tlmt live a great deal nearer
home. A salutary lesson has latterly been giv
|on the former by the Americans, and the hitter
I may ere long take “ another ofthe same ” u la
I'mode de Taylor.
I After the following there will still be “a few
I mere left.”
Georgit, Jones County, 1818.
[ This certifies that for more than four or five
I years my wife was afHictcd with a disease pecu
| liar to her sex, and notwithstanding all that we
I' ould do, she still continued to get worse. The
I Physicians in attendance had exhausted their
ski!! without rendering heir any assistance tiii,
in 1314, when she was confined to her bed in a
very low condition, 1 got her last attendant to go
itvilh me to Macon and lay her case before Dr.
I M. 8. Thomson, who, without having seen her,
I proscribed and sent her medicine that soon re-
I licved her, and in the course of a short time re-
I storeddier to permanent health. She has now
Iheeii well about lour years and rejoices in the
■ recovery of her long lost health
FRANCIS B. HASCAL.
Macon. Juno 22d, 1848.
Dk. M. S. Thomson —Dear Sir: —Deeming it
71 <lut; l 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 mode of thereby
subserving the interests of suffering humanity.
In May 1841, after considerable exposure to
cold, 1 was attacked with Asthma, which pros
trated toe very much, and notwithstanding all
(bat could he 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 a very
severe cough, which led some of the physicians
t to whom I applied to believe that I had consump
i,lon - I applied to physicians of both the Min
eral and Botanic schools, of eminent general
qualifications, but all to no benefit, for 1 contin
ued to get worse,so much so that I had reduce*’
troni being a strong, fleshy man, down to a mere
skeleton and could hardly creep about.—When
I applied to you, I had hut little faitli in being
cured, though I had witnessed some wonderful
■results following your treatment, especially the
cure of that crazy woman you bought of Aquil
.* l’helps, in Jasper, yet they gave ine confi
dence »ud by persevering in the use of your
remedies, and ns it were hoping against hope,
1 1,11 ."'"e' l gratified in being able to announce
’ 1,1 .. | HVC got entirely well, for l have bad but
one iglit attack in twenty months, and that was
V mi)ru ' ls ugo. I have now regained about
f an< l feel as strong as almost
l,in ° buy-one, which is my age. Without
thaHo'” emei c l l 0 l ' ,e Giaracterof the other cures
■ i j‘ l ) e so uuquently resulted from your prac
ii,i ’ r 0 not think that any of them can beat
■C’omjii# ol Ron *'rnied Asthma combined with a
■niswvT i M | Col, specially where the flesh
B u rtiubh' s ’ aas long been classed among the iu-
Most respectfully,yours,
11. LIGIJTFOOT.
lie casel' l /' rrS '^ nnt * s, ‘*l continues to treat Cliro-
Blic city I, "'V distance at his office,or either of
Bhroiieh " J * r uiugr houses, and at a distance
■whodent or by private hand. Those
Bit five doll"' , ’^ Ulre P ersnna l attention, are treated
■isual mo j P er month, those who do, at the
B a y must ev"! <1 ratos ' Those who arc able to
■"ir terms *’ e ? t ,0 t *° so, without variation from
Bliosr who’.."" CSS n s, ‘ nct bargain is made,
I Alters .../‘V!'"’ will 1,0 treated gratuitously.
UMf be part-paid, and addressed
I fch;j M S.THOMSON, M. D.
Macon, (jq.
THE SOUTHERN MUSEUM.
VOLIJIE I.
V o r t r 1?.
ILU The present seems to be a fruitful age for
the production of verses and rhymes, but a great
proportion of them are trash, destined to live an
hour, and then pass into oblivion. Amid this
profusion of worthless things, however, we oc
casionally find a jewel. Such is the piece be
low, which originally appeared in the Vermont
Telegraph, a few years ago. It breathes the
purest sentiments, clothed in beautiful language,
and does honor alike to the head and heart of
the writer.— Ed. Southern Museum.
THE MISSIONARY.
My soul is not at rest. There comes a strange
And secret whisper to my spirit, like
A dream of night, that tells me I am on
Enchanted ground. Why live I here ? The vows
Os God are on me, and I may not stop
To play with shadws or pluck earthly flowers
Till I my work have done, and rendered up
Account. The voice of my departed Lord,
“ Go teach all A'atiuns," from the Eastern world
Comes on the night air, and awakes my ear.
And I will go ! I may not longer doubt
To give up friends, and home, and idol hopes,
And every other tender lie that binds my heart
;T° tliee, my country ! Why should I regard
! Earth’s little store of borrowed sweets ? I sure
; Have had enough of bitter in my cup
To show that never was it His design,
Who placed me here, that I should live in ease
Or drink atplcasure’s fountain. llcnceforth,then
It matters not, if storm or sunshine be
My earthly lot—bitter or sweet my cup ;
I only pray, God fit me for the work,
God make me holy, and my spirit nerve
For the stern hour of strife. Let me but know
There is an arm unseen that holds me up,
An eye that kindly watches all my path,
Till I my weary pilgrimage have done, —
Let me but know I have a friend that waits
To welcome me to glory, and I joy
To tread the dark and death-fraught wilderness.
And when I come to stretch me for the last,
In unattended agony, beneath
The cocoa’s shade, or lift my ‘lying eyes
From Afric’s burning sand, it will bo sweet
That I have toiled for other world’s than this ;
I know I shall feel happier than to die
On softer bed. And if I should reach Heaven,
If one that hath so deeply, darkly sinned,
If one whom ruin and revolt have held
With such a fearful grasp, if one for whom
Satan hath struggled as he hath for me,
Should ever reach that blessed shore, O how
This heart will flame with gratitude and love !
And through the ages of eternal years,
Thus saved, my spirit never shall repent
That toil and suffering once were mine below.
THE BRIDAL, EVE.
A Legend of tlxe Revolution.
BY GEORGE LIPrARD.
One summer night, the blaze of many
lights streaming from the windows of an
old mansion perched yonder among the
rocks and woods, flashed far over the dark
waters of Lake Champlain.
In a quiet and comfortable chamber of
that mansion, a party of British officers,
sitting around a table spread with wines
and viands, discussed a topic of some in
terest, if it was not the most important in
the world, while the tread of the dancers
shook the floor of the adjoining room.
Yes, while all was gaiety and dance
and music in the largest hall of the old
mansion, whose hundred lights gleamed
far over the waters of Champlain—herein
this quiet room, with the cool evening
breeze blowing in their faces through the
open windows ; here this party of British
officers had assembled to discuss their
wines and tlieir favorite topic.
That todic was—the comparative beau
ty of the women of the world.
“As for me,” said a handsome young
Ensign, “I will match the voluptuous forms
and dark eyes of Italy, against the beauties
of the world !”
“Anil I,” said a bronzed old veteran,
who had risen to the Colonelcy by his
long service and hard fighting; “and I
have a pretty lass of a daughter there in
England, whose blue eyes and flaxen hair
would shame your tragic beauties of Italy
into very ugliness.”
“1 have served in India, as you all must
know,” said the Major, who sat next to
the veteran, “and I never saw painting or
statue, much less living woman, half so
lovely as some of those Hindoo maidens,
bending down with water lillies in their
hands; bending down by the light of
torches over the dark waves of the Ganges.”
And thus one after another, they gave
their opinions, until that young American
Refugee, yonder at the foot of the table is
left to decide the argument. That Amer
ican—for 1 blush to say it—handsome
young fellow as he is, with a face full of
manly beauty, deep blue eyes, ruddy
cheeks, and glossy blown hair, that Amer
ican is a Refugee, and a Captain in the
British army. He wore the hatnlsome
WACOW, (GA.) SATUBDAIf MOUMHG, JUNE *, 1849.
scarlet coat, the glittering epaulette, lace
ruffles on his bosom and around his wrists.
“Come, Captain, pass the wine this
way !” shouted the Ensign ; pass the wine
and decide this great question ! Which
are the most beautiful : the red cheeks of
Merry England, the dark eyes of Italy,
or the graceful forms of Hindoosfan ]”
The Captain hesitated for a moment,
and then tossing off a bumper of old Ma
deira, somewhat flushed as he was with
wine, replied:
“Mould your three models of beauty,
your English lass, your Italian queen,
your Hindoo nymph, into one, and add
to their charms a thousand graces of color
and form and feature, and I would not
compare this perfection of loveliness for a
single moment, with the wild and artless
beauty of —an American girl!”
The laugh of the three officers, for a
moment, drowned the echo of the dance
in the next room.
“Compare his American milk-maid
with the woman of Italy !”
“Or the lass of England !”
“Or the graceful Hindoo girl!”
This laughing scorn of the British offi
cers, stung the handsome Refugee to the
quick.
“Hark ye,” he cried, half rising from
his seat, with a flushed brow, hut a deep
and deliberate voice: “To-morrow, 1
marry a wife :an American girl! To
night, at midnight, too, that American
girl will join the dance in the next room,
you shall see her—you shall judge your
selves ! whether the American woman is
not the most beautiful in the world V*
There was something in the manner of
the young Refugee, more than in the na
ture of his information, that arrested the
attention of his brother officers. For a
moment they were silent.
“We have heard somethiug of your
marriage, Captain,” said the gay Ensign,
“but we did not think it would occur so
suddenly I Only think of it! To-morrow
you will be gone—settled—verdict bro’t
in—sentence passed —a married man !
But tell me ! How will your lady-love
be brought to this house to-night 1 I
thought she resided within the rebel lines'?”
“She does reside there ! But 1 have
sent a messenger—a friendly Indian chief
on whom I can place the utmost depend
ence— to biing her from her present home
at the dead of night through the forest, to
this mansion. He is to return by twelve;
it is now half-past eleven !”
“Friendly Indian !” echoed the veteran
colonel; “rather an odd guardian for a
pretty woman—Quite an original idea of
a Duenna. I vow !”
“And you will match this lady with all
the world for beauy 1” said the Major.
“Yes, and if you do not agree with me,
these hundred guineas which I lay upon
the table, shall serve our mess, for wines,
for a month to come ! But if you do agree
with me—as without doubt you will—
then you are to replace this gold with a
hundred guineas of your own.”
“Agreed ! It is a wager !” chorussed
the Colonel and the two other officers.
And in that moment —while the door
way was thronged by fair ladies and gay
officers, attracted from tbe next room by
the debate—as the Refugee stood with
otic hand resting upon the little pile of
gold, his ruddy face grew suddenly pale
as a shroud, his blue eyes dilated, until
they were encircled by a line of white en
amel, he remained standing there, as if
frozen to stone.
“Why, captain, what’s the matter'?”
cried the Colonel, starting up in alarm,
do you see a ghost, that you stand gazing
there, at the blank wall ?”
The other officers also started up in
alarm, and also asked the cause of this sin
gular demeanor, but still, for the space of
a minute or more, the Refugee Captain
stood there, more like a dead man sud
denly recalled to life, than a living being-
That moment passed, he sat down with
a cold shiver ; made a strong effort as if to
command his reason ; and then gave ut
terance to a forced laugh.
“Ha ! ha! See how I’ve frightened
you !” he said —and then laughed that
cold, unnatural laugh again.
And yet, half an hour from that time, he
freely confessed the nature of the horrid pic
ture which he had sicu drawn upon that
black wainseotted trail, as if by some su
pernatural hand.
But now, with the wine-cup in his hand,
he turned from one comrade to another,
uttering some forced jest, or looking to
wards the dooiway crowded by officers
and ladies, he gaily invited them to share
in this remarkable argument: Which were
the most beautiful women in the world ]
As he spoke the hour struck.
Twelve o’clock was there, and with it a
footstep, and then a bold Indian form
came urging through the crowd of ladies,
thronging yonder doorway.
Silently, his arms folded on his war
blanket, a look of calm stoicism on bis
dusky brow tbe Indian advanced along the
room, and stood at the head of the table.
There was no lady with him !
Where is the fair girl ? She who is to
be the Bride to-morrow ? Perhaps the
Indian has lefr her in the next room, or
perhaps—but the thought is a foolish one
—she has refused to obey her lover’s re
quest—refused to meet him !
There was something awful in the deep
silence that reigned throughout the room,
as the solitary Indian stood there, at the
head of the table gazing silently into the
lover’s face.
“ Where is she V' at last gasped the Re
fugee. “She has not refused to come ?
Tell me—has any accident befallen her by
the way ? I know the forest is dark, and
the wild path most difficult—tell me ;
where is the lady for whom I sent you in
to the rebel lines ?”
For a moment, as the strange horror of
that lover’s face was before him, the In
dian was silent. Then ashisanswerseem
ed trembling on his lips, the ladies in yon
der doorway, the officers from the ball
room, and the party round the tab'e, form
ed a group around the two central figures
—tbe Indian standing at the head of the
table, his arms folded in his war-blanket
—that young officer half rising from his
seat, his lips parted, his face ashy, his
clenched hand resting on the dark mahog
any of the table.
The Indian answered first by an action,
then by a word.
First the action : Slowly drawing his
right hand from his war-blanket, he held
it in the light. That right hand clutched
with blood-stained fingers, a bleeding
scalp, and long and glossy locks of beau
tiful dark hair!
Then the word : “Young warrior sent
the red man for the scalp ofthe pale faced
squaw ! Here it is !”
Yes—the rude savage had mistaken his
message ! Instead of bringing the bride
to her lover’s arms, he had gone on his
way, determined to bring the scalp of the
victim to the grasp of her paleface enemy.
Not even a groan disturbed the silence
of that dreadful moment. Look there !
The lover rises, presses that long hair—so
black, so glossy, so beautiful—to his heart,
and then—as though a huge weight, fail
ing on his brain, had crushed him, fell
with one dead s mnd on the hard floor.
He lay there—stiff, and pale, and cold;
his clenched right hand still clutching the
bloody scalp, and the long dark hair fall
ing in glossy tresses over the floor! This
was the bridal eve !
Now tell me, my friends, you who have
heard some ignorant pretender, pitifully
complain of the destitution of Legend, Po
etry, Romance, which characterizes our
National History—tell me, did you ever
read a tradition of England, or France, or
Italy, ot Spain, or any land under heav
ens, that might, in point of awful tragedy,
compare with the simple History of David
Jones and Jane McCrea ? For it is but
a scene from this narrative, with which
you have all beenfamiliar from childhood,
that I have given you.
When the bridegroom, flung there on
the floor, with the bloody scalp and long
dark tresses in his hands, arose again to
the terrible consciousness of life—these
words trembled from his lips in a faint and
husky whisper :
“Do you remember bow, half an hour
ago—l stood there—by the table—silent
and pale, and horror-stricken—while you
all started up around me, askiug me what
horrid sight I saw ? Then oh then, I be
held the horrid scene—that home yonder
by the Hudson river, mounting to Heaven
in the smoke and flames ! The red forms
of Indians going to and fro, amid the flame
and smoke—tomahawk and torch in hand!
There, amid the dead bodies, red smo
king embers, I behold her form—my
bride—for whom I had sent the messen
ger— kneeling, pleading for mercy, even
sa the tomahawk crashed into her brain!”
As the horrid picture again came o’er
his mind he sank senseless again, still
clutching that terrible memorial—the
bloody scalp and long black hair !
That was an awful Brijml Evb !
NUIVBEK 27.
A SAD DISAPPOINTMENT.
A Thrilling Scene. —l passed up the
natural avenue and came upon the green.
My feelings were very poetical as I walk
ed towards the village church. I entered.
A popular preacher was holding forth,
and the little meeting house was filled to
overflowing. Several persons were stand
ing up, and I soon discovered that 1 must
retain my perpendicular position, as eve
ry seat was crowded. I, however passed
up the aisle, until I gained a position
wheie I could have a fair view of nearly
all present. Many of the congregation
looked curiously at me, for I was a stran
ger to them all. In a few moments, how
ever, the attention of every one seemed to
be absorbed in the ambassador of grace*
and I also began to take an interest in the
discourse. The speaker was fluent and
many of his flights were even sublime.—
The music of tho woods, and the fragrance
of the heath seemed to respond to his elo
quence.
Then it was no great stretch of the ima
gination to fancy that the white handed
creatures arouud me, with their pouting
lips and artless innocence, were beings of
a higher sphere. As my feelings were
thus divided between the beauties of the
two worlds, and wrapped in a sort of po
etical devotion, I detected some glances at
me of an animated character.
I need not describe the sensations expe
rienced by a youth, when the eyes of a pret
ty young woman rest upon him for a length
of time, and when he imagines himself to
be an object of interest to her. I return
ed her glances with interest, and threw
all the tenderness into my eyes which the
scene, my meditations and the preacher’s
discourse, had inspired in my heart—
doubting not that the fair damsel possess
ed kindred feelings at the fountain of in
spiration. How could it be otherwise ?
She had been born and nurtured amidst
these wild romantic scenes, and was full
of romance, of poetry, of tenderness; and
then I thought of the purity of woman’s
love—her devotion—her truth ; I only
prayed that I might meet with her where
we might enjoy a sweet interchange of
sentiment. Her glances continued. Sev
eral times our eyes met. My heart beat
with rapture. At length the benediction
was pronounced. I lingered about the
premises until I saw the dark-eyed dam.
sel set our for home, alone and on foot.—
Oh ! that the customs of society would
permit—for we are surely one in soul.—
Cruel formality ! that throws up a barrier
between each other ! Yet I followed her.
She looked behind, and I thought evinced
some emotion at recognizing me as the
stranger of the day. I then quickened
my pace, and she actually slackened hers,
as if to let me come up with her.
“Noble young creature !” thought I;
“her artless and warm heart is superior to
the bonds of custom !”
I reached within a stone’s throw of her.
She suddenly halted and turned her face
towards me. My heart swelled to burst'
ing. I reached the spot where she stood.
She began to speak, and I took off my hat
as if doing reverence to an angel.
“Are you a pedlar ?”
“No, my dear girl, that is not my occu
pation.”
“Well, I don’t know,” continued she,
not very bashfully, and eyeing me quite
sternly : “I thought when I saw you in
the meeting house, that you looked like
the pedlar who passed off a pewter half
dollar three weeks ago, so I was determin
ed to keep an eye upon you. Brother
John has got home now, and he says ifhe
catches the fellow he’ll wring hia neck for
him ; and I ain’t sure but you’re the good
for-nothing rascal after all!”
Reader, did you ever take the shower
bath 1
The Uw of Newspapers.
1. Subscribers who do not give express notice
to the contrary,are considered as wishing tocon
tinue their subscriptions.
2. If the subscribers order tho discontinua
tion of their papers, the publishers may continue
to send them till all casil charges are paid.
3. If subscribers neglect or refuse take their
papers from the offices to which they are directed
they are held responsible till they have settled
their bill, and order their paper discontinued.
4 If subscribers remove to other places with
out informing the publishers, and the paper is
sent to the former direction, they arc held re
sponsible.
5. The Courts have decided that refusing to
take a paper, or periodical from the office, or re
moving and leaving it uncalled for, is “ prim*
falie evidence of intentional fraud.
Postmaster are requested to keep a copy of the
a rules, and show it to persons who may de
cline taking their papers out of the respective
offices, without having paid up all arrearages for
the same.
BOOK AND JOB PRINTING,
Will be executed in the most approved rtyl e
and on the best terms, at the Office ofthe
3CTTHERIT MTJSETTM,
—BY—
WM. B. HARRISON.
A Royal Romance. —At the grand and
brilliant ball given by Prince Swartzen
berg, the Austrian ambassador at Paris,
in the year 1810, in celebration of tbe
marriage of Napoleon with Maria Louisa,
at which the Emperor and many illustri
ous persons were present, it is well known
that a most destructive fire broke out in
one of the temporary buildings erected
for the occasion, by which the young and
beautifel hostess and several other persons
were burnt to death, and many seriously
injured. One of the visitors at this ball
was the then dowager Duchess of Savoy-
Carignan, mother of Charles Albert, ex-
King of Sardinia. This lady, prevented
by the great confusion from getting out in
time, found herself in one of the saloons
burning on all sides. When in this most
perilous situation, and almost saffocated,
she was accidentally discovered by her
courier, who resolutely rushed through
the flames into the room, took his mistress
in his arms, and jumped from a window
on the first floor to the ground. By this
heroic conduct he broke both his legs, but
the Duchess was unhurt. Her life having
been thus miraculously saved through the
courage of her courier, she, of course,
paid him all possible care and attention
during his illness ; and when lie had re
covered from this accident she married
him. He received afterwards from some
Italian Princo the title of Count Montelart;
and ever since they have been living to
gether, but not very happily, in various
parts of the continent, and are now in
Paris.
Decidedly Rich.— One ofthe parvenu ladie*
of our village but would-be wonderfully aristoc
ratic in all domestic matters, was visiting a few
days since, at Major G (all know the
old Major) when, after tea, the following conver
sation occurred between tho Major’s excellent
old-fashioned lady and the “top-not,” in conse
quence ofthe hired girl occupying a scat at tho
tea tabic.
Mrs. . Why Mr. G. , yon do not
allow your hired girl to cat with you at the ta.
ble ? It’s horrible *
Mrs. G. Most certainly I do. You know
this lias ever been my practice. It was so when
you worked for me—don't you recollect ?.
This was a “cooler” to silk and satin great
ness ; or, as the boys call it, “Codfish aristoc
racy.” And after coloring and stammering she
answered in a very low voice, “ Y-e-s, I b-e-
I i-e-v-e it w-a-s,” and sloped.
What a cutting and withering rebuke. And
how admirably it applies to very many persons
in this village.
When will the world learn that poverty is
not the evidence of meanness and degradation ;
nor silks and satins the sure evidence ofa true
and noble woman. But hypocrisy, self-conceit,
a disposition to oppress and dagrade those under
us, are unquestionable indices to low, and uned
ucated and uncultivated minds. Misfortune
and poverty may overtake us all. It many ba
our preseut companions. Tbe mind, however,
educated, refined and ennobled by reading and.
reflection, is is the sure and only foundatiou for
respect and true greatness. And when it is at
tempted othcrewisc, the “ears” will unavoidab to
protrude in spite of the “Lion’s skin.’’—Detroit
Adv.
That’s llis Own.—The Rev. Dr is
what is commonly denominated “a celebrated
preacher.’’ 11 is reputation, however, has not
been acquired by his drawing largely upon his
own stores of knowledge and eloquence, but by
the skill with which he appropriates the thoughts
and langtiaage of the great divines who havo
gone before him. Fortunately for him, those
who compose a fashionable audience are not
deeply read in the pulpit lore, and accordingly,
with such hearers, he passes for a wonder of
erudition and pathos. It did, nevertheless, hap
pen that the doctor was once detected in his
plagiarisms. One Sunday as he was beginning
to delight the sprightly beaux and belles belong
ing to his congregation, a grave old gentleman
seated himself close to the pulpit, and listened
with profound attention. The doctor had scarce
ly finished iiis third sentence, before the grave
old gentleman muttered, loud enough to be heard
by those near him, “ That’s Sherlock !’’ The
doctor frowned, but went or. 11c had not pro
ceeded much further, when his tormenting inter
rupter broke out with “That’s Tillotson !*’
The doctor bit his lips, and paused, but again
thought it better to pursue the thread of Ilia dis
cource. A third exclamation of “That’s Blair’s,’*
was,however, too much, and completely exhaus
ted all his patience. Leaning ever the pulpit,
“J ellow,’’ be cried, “if you do not hold your
tongue, you shall be turned out.” Without al
tering a muscle of his countenance, the grave old
gentleman tilled up hit head, and looking the
doctor in the face, retorted, “That’s liis own.’*
“You are from the country, are you not, air?’*
said a dandy clerk in a bookstore to a homely
dressed Quaker, who had given him some trou
ble.
“Yes.”
“Well, here’s an essay on the rearing of
calves.’’
“That,” said Aminid&b, as be turned to leave
the store, “thee had better present thy motlier.”
Why is a kiss like a rumor ? Because it goes
from mouth to mouth.