Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 2.
@S)$
For the Georgia Citizen.
Thf Star Spaugled Banner.
I have late’ received a heavy Gold Locket, con
taining only a Daguerreotype of the Star Spangled
Banner, and the following quotation :
“ The Star Spangled Banner,
O ! long may it wave
O’er the land of the free,
And the home of the brave !”
“ From an American Girl. ’’
To thee, unknown, nobly generous and kind lady, is
due more than my humble pen can contribute. Words
faint on the lips when the heart would speak. Beneath
that ever dear, ever remembered and sacred flag, I
could die “ with a curl on my lip, a smile on my
brow, ” and content in my heart. 1 cannot, fair, kind
lady, reply appropriately, in poetic terms ; but in my
hasty aud uncouth manner, please accept the following :
To the Unknown.
WRITTEN IMPROMPTU, BV 1. W. CLIFFORD, V. S. A.
Welcome! welcome! proud banner !
To my heart's inmost core ;
For thy folds shall enshroud me,
When low in the grave.
Then down, down with the traitor.
And up, up with the flag !
I would that this banner
Might wave o’er the land,
Where foes have oppress’d it,
Yet long may it stand.
Then down, down with tho traitor,
And up, up with the flag 1
That flag of all freemen,
That it ever may wave
“ O’er the land of the free,
And the home of the brave. ”
Then down, down with the traitor !
And up, up with the flag!
And that Star Spangled Banner,
The pride of the free,
To the giver—a lady—
A Iltaven’s passport be.
Then down, down with the traitor!
And up, up with the flag !
May its folds in death shroud me—
Its laurels I crave ;
For in Heaven’s broad mansions
That banner may wave.
Then down, down with the traitor !
And up, up with the flag !
A Burlesque oil “Ins and Outs.”
BY A WEST POINT CADET, U. S. M. A.
I'm out of humor, in apet —
I know not what to do ;
1 think I’ll take my pen and try
To write a line or two.
I’m out of money, and have been so
For a week or more,
Which works my spirits down so low—
It makes my conscience sore.
I’m out of credit at the store,
And out of office too ;
And tlio’ I once was drest in black,
I now am drest in blue.
I’m out the dreary Guard House , too,
To me it’s no regret.
I wish me out of something else,
And that is—out of debt!
Besides, I’m deeply plunged in love ,
In fear, too, and in doubt—
Which is the greatest trouble now,
Os being in and out ?
I’m out of patience, and I'm out
Os more than I can think ;
I’m out of paper, lost my sword ;
I’m out—l’m out —of ink.
The Farmer’s Boy.
BT FRANCIS D. GAGE.
O, a jovial farmer’s boy I’ll be,
As fresh as the birds that sing,
And earrol my merry song of glee
Among the flowers of spring.
With a whoop who boy, to drive my team
Before the rising sun,
“To slake their thirst in a silvery stream
Shall be my morning’s fun; —
To see the hungry porker fed,
And hear him grunt his thanks ;
To rouse the calves from their grassy bed,
So shake their drowsy flanks:
To draw from the generous cow her store,
With young hands strong and tree,
Till the briminiug pale is ruuuing o’er
With the foaming luxury ;
To haste to the garden with hoe and seed
While the dew is on the spray,
To plant, to trim, to hoc and weed
The morning hours away,
To raise the flowers for the honey bee.
With their petals bright and fair :
O, I love the budding flowers to see,
1 In my garden here and there; —
Or away to the fields with the reapers hie,
And toil the livelong day,
And think of the happy tune when I
Shall be a man as they,
To plow, to borrow, to plant, to sow
The rich and fertile lands;
To reap aud bind, to pitch and mow,
With strong and willing hands.
O, I would not live in the crowded town,
With its pavements hard and gray,
With lengthened streets of dusty brown,
And its painted houses gay—
Where every boy his ball may bound
Upon his neighbor's dome,
And every shout and every sound
Disturbs some other’s home.
The squirrel that leaps from limb to limb,
In the forest waving high,
Or the lark that soars with his matin hymn,
Is not more free than I.
Then give me the trade of a farmer boy,
From city trammels free,
And I’ll crack my whip,and cry, ‘W ho boy!’
Oh, a farmer boy I’ll be!
China Tree. —Who ever thinks here’ of
the value of the China tree ? Were this tree
to grow and flourish at the North as it does
here, our cabinet shops would be filled with
furniture manufactured from its wood, recom
mended by its beauty, and the remarksb-e
quality it possesses of being proof against a har
bor lor insects; (how invaluable for bedsteads;)
our drug stores would be filled with vermifuge
and panaceas, made from the roots, leaves and
berries, and our cosmetics perfumed with its
Rowers,
Story of a kiss.
BY FREDERIKA BREMER.
In the University ofUpsala, in Sweden,lived a
young student —a lonely youth, with a great
love for studies, but without means of pursu
ing them. He was poor, and without connec
tions. Still he studied on, living in great pov
erty, but keeping up a cheerful heart and try
ing not to look at the future, which looked so
grimly at him. His good humor and good
qualities made him beloved by his young com
rades. Once he was standing with some of
them in the great square of Upsala, prating
away an hour of leisure, when the attention of
the young men became arrested by a young
and very elegant lady, who, at the side of an
elderly one, walked slowly over the place. It
was the daughter of the Governor of Upland,
residing in the city, the lady with her was her
governess. She was known for her beauty, and
tor her goodness and gentleness of character,
and looked upon with great admiration by the
students. As the young men now stood silent
ly gazing at her, as she passed on like a grace
ful vision, one of them exclaimed : “ Well, it
would be worth something to have a kiss from
such a mouth !” The poor young student, the
hero of our story, who was looking intently at
that pure and angelic face, exclaimed, as by
inspiration, “ Well, I think I could have it.”
“What!” cried his friends in a chorus, “are
you crazy? Do you know her?” etc. “ Not
at all,’’ he answered ; ‘but 1 think she would
kiss me, just now, if I asked her.” “In this
place, before our eyes ?” “ Freely ?” “Freely.”
“ Well, if she will give you a kiss in that man
ner, I will give you a thousand dollars !” ex
claimed one of the party. “And I!” “And
Icried three or four others, for it so happen
ed that several rich young men were in the
group, and bets ran high on so improbable an
event,and the challenge was made and received
in less time than we take to relate it.
Our hero—my authority tells not whether he
was handsome or plain —I have my peculiar
reasons for believing that he was rather plain,
singularly good-looking at the same time
—our hero immediately walked oft’ to meet
the young lady. He bowed to her and said.—
“ My lady, my fortune is in your hands.”
She looked at him in astonishment, but arres
ted her steps. He proceeded to state his
name and condition, his aspirations, and related
simply and truly what just had passed between
him and his companions.
The young lady listened attentively, and
when he had ceased to speak,she said, blushing,
but with great sweetness :
“ If by so little a thing so much good could
be affected, it would be very foolish in me to
refuse your request”—and she kissed the young
man publicly, in the open square.
Next day, the young student was sent for by
the Governor. He wanted to see the man
who'had’ dared to ask a kiss of his daughter in
that way, and whom she had consented to kiss
so. He received him with a severe and scru
tinizing brow, but, after an hour’s conversation,
was so pleased with him that he invited him
to dine at his table, during the course of his
studies in Upsala,
Our young friend pursued his studies in a
manner which soon made him regarded as the
most promising scholar of the University.—
Three years were not passed after the day of
the first kiss,when the young man was allowed to
give a second one to the lovely daughter of the
Governor, as his betrothed bride.
He became, later, one of the greatest schol
ars in Sweden, as much respected for his learn
ing as for his character. His works will endure
for ever among the works of science, and from
his happy uniou sprung a family well known in
Sweden in the present day, and whose wealth of
fortune, and high position in society are regarded
as small things, compared with its wealth of
goodness and love.
Home Affections. —The heart has affections that
never die. The rough rubs of the-world cannot obliter
ate them. They are the memories of home—early
home. There is a magic sound. There is the old tree
under which the light-hearted boy swung many a day ;
yonder is the river in which he learned to swim—there
the house in which he knew a parent’s protection
nay, there the room in which he romped with brother
and sister,long since, alas! laid in the yard in which
he must soon be gathered, overshadowed by yon old
church, whither with a joyous troop like himself, he
had often followed his parents to worship with, and
hear the good old man who ministered at the altar.
Why, even the very school-house, associated in youth
ful days with thoughts of tasks, now comes to bring
pleasant remembrances of many occasions that call forth
some generous exhibitions of noble traits of human na
ture. There is where he learned to feel some of his
first emotions. There, perchance, he first met the be
ing who, by her love and tenderness in life, has made a
home for himself happier than that which childhood had
known. There are certain feelings of humanity, and
those, too, among the best, that can find an appropri
ate place for their exercise only at “one’s own fireside,
’inere is a privacy of that which it was a species of des
ecration to violate. He who seeks wantonly to invade
it, is neither more or less than a villian; and hence
there exists no surer test of the debasement of morals
in a community, than the disposition to tolerate in any
mode, the man who invades the sanctity of private life.
In the turmoil of the world, let there be at least one spot
where the poor man may find affections and confidence
which are not to be abused.
Female Education. —There are a few common
phrases in circulation, respecting the duties of wo
men, to which we wish to pay some degree of atten
tion, because they are rather inimical to those opinions
which we have advanced on the subject. Indeed, in
dependently of this, there is nothing which requires
more vigilance than the current phrases of the day, of
which there are always some resorted to iti every dis
pute, and from the sovereign authority of which it is of
ten vain to make any appeal. “ The true theatre for a
woman is the sick chamber ;” —Nothing so honorable
to a woman as not to be spoken of at all.” Ihese two
phrases, the delight of Noodledom, are grown into
common-places upon the subject; and are not unfre
quently employed to extinguish that love of knowledge
in woman, which, in our humble opinion, it is of so
much importance to cherish. Nothing certainly is so
ornamental and delightful in women as the benevolent
virtues: but time cannot be filled up, and lile employ
ed, with high and impassioned virtues. Some of these
feelings are of rare occurrence—all of short duration—
>r nature would sink under them. A scene of dis
tress and anguish is an occassion where the finest qual
ities of the female mind may be displayed; but is it mon
strous exaggeration to tell women that they are born
only for scenes of distress and anguish. Nurse, father,
mother, sister and brother, if they want it; —it wonld
he a violation of thw plainest duties to neglect them, t
“ ‘Jnlirfmiknt in nil fjjings —lira tail in notjjing.”
MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, APRIL 20, 1851.
But, when we are talking of the common occupations
of life, do not let us mistake the accidents for the occu
pations ;—when we are arguing how the twenty-three
hours of the day are to be filled up, it is idle to tell us
of those feelings and agitations above the level
of common existence, which may employ the remaining
hour. Compassion, and every other virtue are the
great objects we all ought to have in view, but no man
and (no woman) can fill up the twenty-four hours bv acts
of virtue. But one is a lawyer, and the other a plough
man and the third a merchant , and then acts of good
ness, End intervals of compassion and feeling, are scat
tered up and down the common occupations of life. We
know women are to be compassionate ; but they can
not be compassionate from eight o’clock in the morning
till twelve at night; and what are they to do in the in
terval ? This is the only question we have been putting
all along, and is all that can be meant by literary educa
tion. [Sidney Smith.
YVe find the following paragraph going the
rounds of the papers. It purports to be ah extract
from Mrs. Ellis’s Lectures. It wouldn't sound well
if spoken in a fashionable drawing room.
The Future Wives of England. —My pretty lit
tle dears, you are no more fit for matrimony than a
dueklet is to look after a family of fourteen chickens.
The truth is, my dear girls, you want, geneally speak
ing, more liberty and less fashionable restraint; more
kitchen and less parlor ; more leg exercise and less so-
fa; more making puddings and less piano*, more frank
ness and less mock modesty ; more breakfast and less
hustle. I like the buxom, blight eyed, rosy cheeked,
full breasted, bouncing lass, who can darn stockings,
make her own frocks, mend trousers, command a regi
ment of pots and kettles, milk the cows, feed the pigs,
chop wood, and shoot a wild duck, as well as the Duch
ess of Marlborough, or the Queen of Spain, and be a
lady withal in the drawing room. But as for your pi
ning, moping; wasp waisted, putty faced, music murder
ing, novel devouring daughters of fashion and idleness,
with your consumption soled shoes, silk stockings and
calico shifts, you wont do for the future wives and mo
thers of England.
YY estern Grandiloquf.nce. —We do not believe
the following has ever seen the light. It is given from
memory :
A ease occurred in some western court, in which
the issue was an assualt with intent to kill. The judicial
record states the names of the parties as being McFad
den vs. Baile. A brother of the plaintiff, wljo seems to
have had a vein of humor strangely co-mingling with
his king cambyses jugular, being qualified, was reques
ted by the council for the defendant to state what he
knew of the case; whereupon, with a ludiero-inajestico
air, he began as follows :
“ Gentlemen us the grand jury.’’
“ This is not the grand jury, Mr. McFadden,” in
terposed his honor.
“Quite immaterial, Judge—Gentlemen of the jury,
a difficulty ensued (!) between my brother and this
gentleman, some six months ago. I tried upon several
occasions to see if I could bring about a reconciliation ;
but, gentlemen of the jury, it seems it could not be
done. And a few days since the two parties met in the
load, aud a difficulty ensued. My brother prepared’
for battle by dismounting from his horse and picking up
a rock in his hand. The other gentleman drew a bow
ie knife deliberately from his side and came at my bro
ther in a menacing manner and a carving attitude.
My brother displayed great generalship, by retreating in
good order—that is, (aside to his honor,) by running
liked—nation.”
“What was the remoteness of your position,” ex
claimed the council for the defendant, mimicking Mr.
McFadden’s liigh-falutin, “from the two parlies, when
this difficulty ensued?’' 1
“ How came you to know the distance so exactly ?”
asked the attorney.
‘‘Because’ sir,” said McFadden, “I supposed some
darned fool,like yourself, sir, would ask me tho question
sir, and I took the pains to measure if, sir!”
And having spoken thus, the dignified deponent left
the stand, and strutted out of court with an air of majes
tic independence, only pausing to wave a graceful adieu
to the court, and to say, “Yours with due respect and
high consideration, Gustavus, Adolphus McFadden.”—
(S. C.) Advertiser.
“I Can.” —Of course you can. You show
it in your looks, in your motion, your speech,
in your every thing. lean! A brave, hear
ty, subtantial, soulful, manly, cheering expres
sion. v There is character, force, vigor, deter
mination, will, in it. YVe like it. The words
have a spirit, sparkle, pungency, flavor, gen
iality about them which takes one in the very
right place.
I can!—There is a world of meaning expressed
nailed down, epigrarnized, rammed into these
few letters. Whole sermons of solid-ground
virtues. How we more than admire to hear
the young man speak it out bravely, boldly, de
terminedly ; though it was an outsearching of
his entire nature, a reflection of his inner soul.
It tells of something that is earnest, sober, se
rious ; something that will battle the race, and
tumble with the world in a way that will open
and brighten and mellow men’s eyes.
I can ! YVhat spirit, purpose, intensity, real
ity, power and praise. It is a strong arm, a
stout heart, a bold eye, a firm port, and an in
domitable will. We never knew a man pos
sessed of its energy, vitality, fire, and light, that
did not attain eminence of some sort. It could
not be otherwise. It is in the nature, consti
tution, order, necessily, inevitability of events,
that it should be so. I can! rightly, truly said,
and then clinched and riveted by the manly,
heroic, determined deed, is the secret solution,
philosophy, of mens’ lives. They took 1 can
fora motto, and went forth and steadily made
themselves and the world what they pleased.
Then, young man, if you would be some
thing beside a common, dusty, prosy, wayfarer
in life, just put these magic words upon your
lips, and their musing, hopeful, expanding phi
losophy in your hearts and arms. Do it, and
you are a made man.
Adulteration —Things have come to such a pass
in commerce, that no man knows what he buys, or
sells, or consumes. Every article capable of adultera
tion is made a cheat. Your wine is nearly all spurious;
your brandy is colored whiskey; your tea is mixed
With sloe leaves, and colored blue by poisonous dies ;
your ground coffee is mixed with peas and chicory;
your tobacco is made of mullen, oak and cabbage leaf;
your beer is drugged with ooculus indicus ; your bread
is made with alum, soap, lard, potash and plaster of
Paris; your salt is stone; your sugar is sand ; your
groun spices are anything that comes handy ; your
chocolate is starch; your olive oil comes fresh from the
swine mills of Cincinnati ; your vinegar is sulphuric
acid; your meat is blown up to make it look fat; your
sausages are made of—no matter what; your medicines,
accordingHo the statements of the best druggists in
New York, are adulterated and falsified ; your ising
glass is two thirds gelatin, from the glue factories; your
silk and woolen are mixed with cotton ; in short, there
is not an article in which you can be cheated, xvhioh
I Commerce has not adulterated.
llow infamous, how shameful is this ? What a
wholesale robbery of the community ! YV hat a depriva
tion of the moral sense ! Is there no way by which
those multitudinous and pervading frauds can be pre
vented, or do they belong to the commercial system, as
its outgrowth and natural consequences ?—Sunday
Mercury.
The Science of Going to Bed.— The earth is a
magnet, with magnetic currents constantly playing
around it. The human body is also a magnet, and
when a body is placed in certain relations to the earth,
these currents harmonize : when in any other position
they conflict. YVhen one position is to be maintained
for some time, a position should be chosen in which
the magnetic enrrents of the earth and the body will
not conflict. This position ds indicated by theory and
known by experin ;Vlt, is l 6 lie with tho head towards
the North pole. Persons sleep with their heads in
the opposite direction, or lying cross-wise, or liable to
fall into various nervous disorders. When they go
back to the right position, these disorders, if not too
deeply impressed upon the constitution, soon vanish.
Sensitive persons are always more refreshed by sleep
when their heads point duo north. Architects, in
planning houses, should bear this principle in mind.—
Mercury.
Revolutionary Reminiscence. —lt stirs
one’s blood, in these latter days, to read the
speeches and the records of the actions of
those who lived in the days of the revolution.
YY’hen the news of the fall of Ticonderoga,
reached the capital of New Hampshire, John
Langdon, who was speaker of the Provincial
Legislature, seeing the public credit exhausted,
and his friends discouraged rose and said :
“ I have S3OOO hard money, I will pledge
my plate lor S3OOO more. I have seventy
hogsheads of Tobago rum, which shall be sold
for the highest it will bring. These are at
the service ofthe State. If wo succeed in de
tending our firesides and homes I may be
remunerated. If we do not, the property will
be of no value. Our old friend Starke, who
so nobly maintained the honor of our State at
Bunker Hill, may safely be entrusted with the
conduct ot the enterprise, and we will check
the progress of Burgoyne.”
Those were tho days of patriotism ! The
offer was accepted, the money was paid, the
plate hypothecated, the rum converted into
cash. A corps of mountaineers was soon rais
ed and placed under the command of Starke.
YVhen he came in sight ofthe enemy at Benning
ton, he said : “ Buys, there are the Red Coats.
YV e must beat them, or this night Molly Starke
will be a widow !” He did beat them. The
tide of war was turned—the firesides and the
hearths of our fathers preserved ; but whether
old John Langdon ever got back his plate, ex
cept in continental rags, we do not know.
There are many who lost everything in the ser
vice of their country, made advances and sacri
ficed estates, whose descendants are poor.
Shout Dresses.— Zirs. editor of
the Lily, has adopted this j‘ dress and
trowsers,” and says in \ fr pa|Mf|sthis month,
that many ofthe women‘in that praoe, {Seneca
Falls,) oppose the change ; others laugh ; oth
ers still are in favor ; “and many have already
adopted the dress.” She closes the article
upon the subject as follows :
“ Those who think we look ‘auEii,’ would do
well to look back a few years to the time
when they wore ten or fifteen pounds of petti
coat and bustle around tlie body, and bal
loons on their arms and then imagine which
cut the queerest figure, they or we, YVe care
not for the frowns ot over fastidious gentlemen :
we have those of better taste and less question
able morals to sustain us. If men think they
would be comfortable in long, heavy skirts, let
them put them on—we have no objection. YVe
are more comfortable withoutthem, and so have
left them oti. YY’e do not say we shall wear
this dress and no other, hut we shall wear it for
a common dress ; and we hope it may become
so fashionable that we may wear it at all times,
and in ali places, without being thought singu
lar. YV e have already become so attached to
it that we dislike changing to a long one.”
Misplaced Confidence. — YVe may have
published the following rich story before—we
may have published it twice—we are not sure :
but we are confident that any one who has
read it will thank us for giving it again. It
origiually appeared, under the head of “Mis
placed Confidence,” in the N. Y. Evening
Rost:
Jones is in general a good husband and a
domestic man. Occassionally, however, his
convivial tastes betray him into excesses which
have subjected him more than once to the dis
cipline ol Mrs. Jones. A few nights since he
was invited to “ participate’’ with a few friends
at Florence’s by way ol celebrating a piece ol
good luck which had befallen one ol his neigh
bors. He did “*■ participate,” and to his utter
astonishment, when he rose to take his leave,
at the “ wee short hour ayont the twal,” he
found the largest brick in his hat he ever saw.
Indeed, he was heard to remark soliloquently,
“1 think Mr. Jones, you were never quite so
tight before.”
lie reached his home finally, but by a route
which was anything but the shortest distance
between points, not, however, without having
experienced very considerable anxiety about
the reception which awaited him from Mrs.
Jones, lie was in luck that night, was Mr.
Jones, bearing always his primal transgression;
he got into his house, foond his way into his
chamber without “ waking a creature not even
a mouse.” After closing his door, he cau
tiously paused, to give thanks for the “ con
science unde tiled ’ which secured to Mrs. Jones
the sound and refreshing slumbers which had
prevented her taking notice of his arrival. Be
ing satisfied that all was right, he proceeded to
remove his integuments with as much despatch
and quiet as circumstances would permit, and
in the course ol time sought the vacant place
beside his slumbering consort. Alter resting
a moment, and congratulating himself that he
was in bed, and that his wife did not know how
long he had been there, it occurred to him that
it lie did not change his position Mrs. Jones
might detect Irom his breath that he had been
indulging. To prevent such a catastrophe, he
resolved to turn over. He had about half ac
complished his purpose—we are now oblig'd
to use the idiomatic language of Mr. Jones
himself, from whom we receive this chapter of
his domestic trials-—“ when Mrs. Jones riz
right up in the bed, and said she, in tones that
scraped the marrow all out of my bones, said
she, ‘Jones you needn’t turn over, you’re
DRUNK CLEAN THROUGH !”
It may be interesting to the friends of Madeira
wine to know that the friend of cold water, Rev.
T. P. Hunt, of YVyoming, Penn., says that the
‘nutty flavor’ for which Madeira wine is admired,
is imparted by cockroaches, which are put into
the liquor and dissolved by it.—Pleasant very !
Deacon Smith’s Bull,
OR MIKE FINK IN A TIGHT PLACE.
Mike Fink, a notorious Buckeye hunter, was
contemporary with the celebrated Davy Crock
ett, and his equal in all things appertaining to
human prowess. It was even said that the an
imals in his neighborhood knew the crack of
his rifle, and would take to (heir secret hiding
places on the first intimation that Mike was
about. Yet strange though true, he was but
little known beyond his immediate ‘settlement.’
YY’hen we knew him, he was an old man—
the blasts of seventy winters had silvered o’er
his head and taken the elasticity from his limbs;
yet in the whole of his life was Mike never
worsted, except on one occasion. To use his
own language, he never ‘gin in, used up, to
anything that travelled on two legs or four, but
once.’
‘That once we want,’ said Bill Slasher as
some dozen of us sat in the bar room of the on
ly tavern of the settlement.
‘Gin it to us now, Mike—you’ve promised
long enough, and you’re old now, and needn’t
care,’ continued Bill.
‘Right, right! Bill,’ said Mike, ‘but we’ll
open with a ticker all round fust, it’ll kind o’
save my feelin’s, I reckon— ’
‘Thar, that’s good. Better than t’other bar
rel, if anything!’
‘YVell, boys,’ continued Mike, ‘you may talk
o’ your scrimmages, tight places and sich like,
and subtract ’em altogether in one all-mighty
big ’un, and they ha iu’t no more to be compared
to the one 1 war in, than a dead kitten to a she
bar! I’ve fout all kinds o’ varmints, from an
Ingin down to a rattlesnake ! and never was
will’n to quit fust, but this once—and ’twas
with a bull!
‘You see, boys, it was an awful hot day in
August, and I war nigh runnin’off into pure
He, when I war thinkiii’ that a dip in the creek
mout save me. YVell, thar was a mighty nice
place in Deacon Smith’s medder for that par
tic’iar bizzinesa. So 1 went down among the
bushes to unharness. I jist hauled the old red
shirt over my head and war thinkin’ how
scrumptious a feller of my size would feel wal
lerin’ round in that ar water, and war jest
’bout goin’ in, when I seed the old Deacon’s
Bull a makiu’ a B line to whar I stood.’
‘I knowed the old cuss, for he’d sheared more
people than ali the parsons ’o the settlement,
and cum mighty nigh kii’n a few. Thinks I,
Mike you’re iu rather a tight place—get your
iixin’s on, tor he’ll be a driviu’ them big horns
o’ his in yer bowels afore that time ! YY’ell
you’ll hev to try the old varmint naked, I rec’n.
‘The bull war on one side o’ the creek and
I on t’other, and the way he made the sile fly
fora while, us if he war a diggin’ my grave
was distressin !
‘Come on ye bellerin old heathen, said I,
and don’t be standin’ thar; for, as the old Dea
con says o’ the devil, ‘yer not comely to look
on.
‘This kind o’ reached his understandin and
made him look more vishious; for he hoofed a
little like, and made a drive. As I don’t like
to stand in anybody’s way, I gin him plenty
sea-room! So he kind o’passsd by me and
come out on t’other side; and as the Captain
o’ the Mud Swamp Rangers would say ‘’bout
face for ’nother charge,’
‘Though I war ready for ’im this time he
come mighty nigh runnin’ foul o’ me ! So I
made up my mind the next time he went out
he wouldn’t be alone. So when he passed, I
grappled his tail, and he pulled me out on the
sile, and as we war both on the bank old brin
dle stopped and war coinin’ round agin when
I begin puilin the other way.
‘YVell, this kind o’ riled him, for he fust stood
stock still and looked at me for a spell, and
then commenced pavvin and bellerin’, and the
way he made his hind gearin’ play in the air
war beautiful!
‘But it warn’t no u?e, lie couldn’t tetch me
so he kind o’ stopped to git wind for sumthin
devilish, as I judged by the way he started !
By this time l had made up my mind to stick to
his tail as long as it stuck to his backbone !---
I didn't like to holler for help, nuther, kase it
war agin my principle, aud then the Deacon
had preachin at his house, and it warnt far off
nuther.
I knowed if he hearn the noise, the hull con
gregation would come down, and as I warn’t
a married man, and had a kind of hankerin’af
ter a gal that war thar, I didn’t feel as if I would
like to be seen in that predicament.
‘So, says I, old sarpint, do yer cussedest !
Aud so he did; for he drug me over every bri
er and stump in the field, til I war sweatin’
and bleedin like a fat bar with a pack o’ hounds
at his heels. Aud my name ain’t Mike Fink
if the old crittur’s tail and I didn’t blowout
sometimes at a dead level with the varmints’
back!
‘So you may kalkilate we made good time.
Bimeby lie slackened a little, then 1 had ’im
for a spell, for I jist drapped behind a stump
and thar snubbed the critter! Now, says 1,
you’ll pull up this ’ere white oak—break yer
tail ! or jest hold on a bit while 1 blow !
‘YVell, while 1 war settin thar, an idea struck
me that I had better b“ a gittin out o’ this in
some way. But how, adzackly war the pin*!
If I let go and run he’d he foul o’ me shore !
‘So lookin’ at the matter in all its bearin’s,
I cum to the conclusion that I’d better know
whar I was! So I gin a yell louder than a
locomotive whistle, and it warn’t long before I
seed the Deacon’s two dogs a comin down like
as if they war seein which could get there
fust.
‘1 know’d who they war alter—they’d jine
the Bull agin me. I war sartin, for they war
orful wenomous and they had a spite agin me.
‘So, says I, old brindle, as ridin is as cheap
as walkin on this rout, if you’ve no objection
I’ll jest take a deck passage on that ar back
o’ yourn ! So I wasn’t lot.g a gettin astride o’
him, and then if you'd a been thar, you’d V.ve
sworn thar warn’t nothin human in that ar mix!
the sile flew so orfully as the critter and I rol
led round on the field —one dog on one side
and another on t’other tiyin to clench my feet.
‘I pray’d and cuss’d, ahd cuss’d and pray’d
till I couldn’t tell which I did last —and neither
warn’t no use, they war so orfully mixt up.
‘YVell, I reckon I rid ’bout an hour this way
when old brindle thought it was time to stop
to take in a supply of wind and cool off a lit
tle! So when he got round to a tree that stood
thar, he nat rally haulted.
‘Now, sez I, old b’y you’ll loose one passen
ger saitirr So I jestcluin upon a branch kal-
1 kilatin to roost there till I starved, afore I’d be
rid round in that ar way any longer,
‘I war a makin tracks for the top o’ the tree
when I heard sumthin makin an orful buzzin
over my head, 1 kinder looked up and if there
warn’t—well that’s no use o’sweatin’now,
but it war the biggest hornet’s nest ever war
built.
‘A off]] gin in now I recon, Mike, case thar
is no help for you ! But an idea struck me,
then, that I’d stand a heap better chance a ri
din the bull than whar I war. Says I, ‘old fel
ler, if you’ll hold on, I’ll ride to the next station
anyhow, let that be whar it will!
So jest drapped aboard him agin, and looked
aloft to see what I’d gained iu changin quar
ters; and gentlemen I’m a liar if that warn’t
nigh half a bushel tfshe stingin varmints rea
dy to pitch into me when the word ‘go’ was
gin.
‘YVell, I reckon they got it, for ‘all hands’
started for our company ! Some on ’em hit the
dogs—about a quart stuck me, and the rest
charged on old brindle.
‘This time, the dogs led off fust, ‘dead bent’
for the old Deacon’s, and as soon as old brin
dle and I could get under way, we followed [
And as I was the only deck passenger, an 1 had
nothin to do with steerin the craft I swore if I
had we shouldn’t run that Channel anyhow.
‘But, as I said afore, the dogs took the lead—
brindle and I next and the dogs dire’ktly arter.
The dogs yellin—brindle belierin, and the
hornets buzzin and stingin ! I didn’t say noth
in for it warn’t no use.
‘YY’ell, we’d got about two hundred yards trom
the house, and the Deacon hearn us and cum
out, I seed him hold up his hand turn white!
I reokoned he was prayin then, for be didn’t
expect to be called for so soon, and it warn’t
long, ni>her, afore the hull congregation, men,
women and children, cum out and all went to
yellin !
None of them had the fust notion that brin
dle and 1 belonged to this world. I jist turned
my head and passed the hull congregation !
I seed the run would be up soon, for brindle
couldn’t turn an inch from a fence that stood
dead a head !
YVell, we reached that fence, and I went
ashore, over the critter’s head, landin on t’o
ther side, and lay there stunned. It wan’t
long before some of ’em as warn’t so scared,
cum round to see what I war. For all hands
thought I and the bull belonged together!
But when brindle walked off by himself they
seed how it war and one on ’em said, ‘Mike
Fink has got the wust of a scrimmage once in
his life !’
•Gentlemen, from that day I dropped the
curtain bizziness, and never spoke to a gal
since. And when my hunt is up on this yerth
thar won’t be any more Finks ! and it is all
owin to Deacon Smith’s Old Brindle Bull.
mammtammmmmm — b— ———^
CorrrajjimiitHff.
LETTER FRO.TI COLIUBIS.
Columbus, Ga., April 16,1851.
Dear Doctor: —lt lias been my desire to give you
the dots of our city for some time, but business has
pressed me so much I have hardly had opporluuities.
But things have come to such a crisis, that it becomes
a boundeu duty to let the “ Citizen f ’ know. This
place is not changed since you resided amongst us. At
any time, you will recollect, we were always ready for I
a humbug, and embraced it with a zeal only equalled
by the speciousness of its pretensions. YY e hold our
own remarkably well. “ The ass knoweth its owner ’’
—certainly we acknowledge ours. YY e are a strange
people—always desiring something novel, cupidi no
varum rerum. And the consequence is, myriads of
cheats and impositions come upon us in the form of Bi
ology, Psychology, and such like prostituted names, of ,
which were to attempt an enumeration, the nine digits j
would stand aghast. It is true, that we pay more for ;
being deceived, tricked, bamboozled and swindled, and j
are more passive under it than any people of the same
number beneath the sun.
About the 18th March, we were by a con- I
cern, a walking biped without any feathers, having a
sleek and sweet-scented head, and a squiut eye, and
other organs common to the human species. YY here
he eatne from, we do not know ; but he says from New
Orleans, and calls himself Professor Hale. Perhaps it
does hale from there, but God grant another lump shall
not strike this place! Biology is his profession, and among
the many wonders, he professes to be “ a remedial
agent, ” and to expel disease front its mountain fast
nesses, and light up the sinking system with light and
loveliness. This he has yet to prove. Boquet-ology
we prefer to call his scienee, for that is one of the or
naments continually dangling from his breast, or held
in his paw. He came here—but how he came we do
not know ; but we found hi in, like we find green frogs
sometimes immediately after a rain, lie came, and,
like Caesar after the battle of Pharsalia, he could say,
Vcni.vidi, vici; but to express it in these words,
would kill him.
Yes, sir, every body and his wife went to see him
mesmerize, and then wonder and praise. He didn’t -
lack for subjects to make experiments upon, but
anybody was willing to be nigger, fool, monkey, and
see snakes just as he wished. Even the ladies be
came subjects. They felt there was virtue in him, and
they must touch his garment, if that only. One family
is taken in iu for the whole- amount, aud the bead is
conspicuously on the stage, assisting in wonderful and
mysterious manipulations. The oldest hopeful biddy
of the brood, I understand, takes a tour with this new
found prodigy. He is far into the arcana of this start
ling science, and is in earnest; for he had a letter read j
from himself to the Professor, declaring to the audi
dence that the amazing Experiments performed upon
him were no cheats. I hope he may become learned
in magic; certainly he deserves to know the mystic
words of Prof. Ilale, for he has served him well—
placing pantomime on every occasion. There are oth
ers who merit much, for they have been “ punches of
the puppet-show to speak as they were prompted by
the chief juggler behind the curtains. ”
But the ladies, sir, the ladies are the brewers of
these things—they nurse theso new-found champions
with a devotedness, that/if turned to almost any other
source, would be highly commendable. I heard a man i
of sense and experience once remark, that every woman
was a fool. YY’hile I think the remark needs great j
qualification, yet I must say, they have at times the
happiest turn of rendering themselves extremely ridicu
lous. I speak in point now of our ladies. I think,
perhays, if this itinerant scientifiOi this peddler of hum
buggery—this dealer in patent witchcraft—this bo
quet-fed puppet —this “perfumed popinjay,” were in
stalled as Solomon, our oity would be left “ a banquet
ball deserted. ” And if we could be sure of import
ing better stok, it would, I imagine, be a good idea to
set him above law, and let him take them. They feast
him, toast him, honey him, sugar him, invite him home
with them ; levy on all the dainties of their dairies and
pantries for him; atrip naked their flower-beds and
green- hrrww, and when the be'iuct is made,n'ee!y nestle
iu its charming bosom a sweet-scented little billetdoux,
and post it oft - to the dear Professor Hale, who imme
diately goes to his brother, Dr. Conger, and has them
Daguerreotyped—for a nominal price, I presume ; or,
judging from the number; it would break a Jew, even
after a good fire in a city. There they are, ladies ol
Columbus, memorials of your wandering,moon-stricken
\ moments.
1 I never saw any thing equal to this thing in impu
dence, possessed of human phiz. He eats with his bo
quets by him, and alternately takes a mouthful of food
and a smell of fiowers. What his beverage is, lam
not informed ; but presume these same kind ladies ool
lcct dew-drops from rose-buds for him! He has said
publicly, that he was not dependent on Biology for a
living. Evidently he means he is rich, and wants to
marry. For, although he is wandering in his mind
disposition, yet Junius says : 44 Marriage is point
ofc which every rake is stationary at last. ’’ Some
times the ladies make it convenient to meet him at
Temperance Hall,and gentlemen entirely excluded.—
Strange, that he can deprive our damsels of all maideu
coyness ! What they do in the Hall, Ido not know ;
but the next time you see Joe Brooks, a young man
| “ of parts and pregnancy of wit, ” get him to tell you*
and you'll be amused. Joe has been studying the sci
ence forthe last two weeks, and I think in a few days
will be able to give the citizens of this place general
satisfaction in the way of an “ ology ” or an “ ism. ”
Joseph, look around you, and see if you are still
“ sound, ” and mind ye don’t “go for Polk by several
! majority I”
And now, Doctor, who is this Professor Hale, so
translated T He came among us like a night-weed.—
l Who is this from the Queen City, dressed in purple and
fine linen, with whom the ladies are so beside them
i selves? A refuse of some crowd. A doorkeeper for
a New Orleans Theatre. Some here have seen him
there, they say. And why do we, and the ladies es
pecially. take after such birds of passage ? A benevo
lent object could not create the same sympathy ; a ser
mon cannot attract such crowds. Sir, he now owes iu
this city a poor and friendless printer boy twenty dol
; lars! He rides behind his fine span of bays. He has
| visited here a house of no good fame. lam almost
done with him. This little ir.ay make him think he is
iof importance. Not him is it intended for especially,
lie is too insignificant for contempt. If, when he goes
away, and after, any gentleman or lady finds their ‘‘bed
to be a bed of torture, they have made it for them
selves. ” Vi’re la Humbug !
I cannot close this epistle without giving you some
account of a Grand Fireman's and Military Ball which
came oft’ in this city on the 10th inst., when the grand
finale was made. It is useless for me to say to you,
everybody attended. On the night of the 10th, just
before the close, it was announced by the officiating
Judge, M., that the amount necessary to pay the ex
penses of the Grand S<*iree had not been received at
the door, and that the Ball would be continued on
Monday evening. According to appointment, the male
portion of the city were there at an early hour, armed
and equipped; but were Compelled to return home
without the usual amusement of such occasions. But
by the by, Doctor, they did not reach home. They ad
journed to a very fashionable place known by the name
I and style of *’ Pleasant House, ’’ and after obtaining
some refreshments iu the way of brandy and water, the
music struck up, and Cotilions w ere formed around the
Billiard Table, and merrily went the dance until morn
ing. Perhaps, Doctor, your are by this time anxious
to know why the party (the original one I mean) proved
to be a failure ? It was easily accounted for next
morning by notices on the Bulletin Board, and at the
corners of the streets, stating that Prof. Hale was ab
sent from the city on professional business last evening,
and could not be at the Ball. Whether “ midwifery ”
or not, I don’t know, but I was better posted up than to
believe that; for, on that night being attracted to the
Oglethorpe by strains of music, I went over to see who
would dare to strike a note in opposition to the “pro
tracted” Ball. Guess my astonishment, when, on ar
riving, I found the Professor had gathered the ladies of
the city, and was having a kind of one-horse party for
his own peculiar benefit. Trusting, dear Doctor, that
if this famous animal passes your way, that you will
give him a lift, I reman
Yours, most respectfully,
“RODRIGO.’’
LETTERS from THE YORTIf.
NO. 10.
Tontine Hotel, New Haven, April 5, 1851.
Dear Doctor : —I left New York at three o'clock,
and arrived in this city at six. Boston is called the
Athens of America ; but this is not only a more intel
lectual, but ten times a more beautiful city. The fact
is, it is the most beautiful city in America. lam now
writing in a room fronting the Elm-bordered Green,
and immediately opposite the State House and Yale
College. The State House is built after the manner of
the Parthenon at Athens. It is a beautiful building,
and remarkable for its architectural simplicity. Front
ing the State House, and in the centre of the Green,
are three very beautiful Churches, all of different
styles of architecture. This Green is intersected in
all directions by arid paths, which give it quite a pic
turesque appearance—making it look something like
Jacob's cattle. In the “ Centre Church, ”is a clock
whose bell tolls the hours with cheering melodiousness.
This Green, as it is called here, is the principal beauty
of this beautiful city—bating the beautiful women,,
who are nearer Angels than any thing else. On all
the four sides of tliip Green are situated the most re
markable buildings of the city, Yale College being on
the \\ eat. Ps.jfessor SiUiman's house is on the North,
but not on the street fronting the Green. The New
Haven Hotel is situated on the South, and will be
opeued on the loth of this month. It is a beautiful
building, stuccoed on the outside, and will be a rival to
the Tontine. It is situated on Chapel, the principal
street of the city.
I saw President Day in the street a few moments
ago, who looked quite healthy for one of his age.
Theodore Parker, the Abolition Infidel, is making
speeches against the execution of the Fugitive Slave
Law. So is the Rev. Mr. Colver. If Hell has two
greater fallen angels iu it, the Devil sees hard times.
Ihe owners have recently captured more fugitive
slaves, and tnese two traitors are persuading the peo
ple to resist the execution of the law. This beautiful
city is, happily, free from any such rascality. It is
eery well for it that it is so, for it is almost entirely
supported by the South. The inhabitants are great
friends to the Southern people. I reoonized several
young students in the streets to-day from the South.
The magnifacent aud stately Elms which border the
path-intersected Green , are just beginning to bough out.
in green buds I saw a man this morning belting them
; tar prevent the cattcrpillar from ascending them*
and feeding on the leaves. These trees are looked
upon here with as much veneration as the Oaks were
by the Druids. They are very long-lived, and look
quite magnificent when arranged in the cheering gar*
ments of an emerald foliage.
I have just returned from a visit to Hillhous’ place*
which is situated in the Northern part of the city on a
high kilL William S. Charnly, from Philadelphia, is
bmiding an ootagonal briok bouse, to be stuccoed, on
Temple street. It is not only a curiosity on the out
side, having four or fiv* very fantastic Porticoes stand
ing out of it all around—but of the most uncouth di
mensions on the icsida, the Parlors and Bitting Rooms
geingon the clrcirit.d the stairs jn tha centre. Tie
NO. 4.