Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 2.
I'rufrasimiol k 35usinrs5 Curts
w^wmr
U6UEERIOTYPIST,
MACON. GA.
j£+r ENTRANCE FROM TIIE AVENUE. Jtlfi
apr 19 ts
’ HAU ROAD HOUSE,
OPPOSITE CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPO T
EAST MACON.
ts S. M. LANIER.
JACK BROWN,
ATTORNEY AT TAW,
B 1 KNA VISTA, MARION CO., OA.
apr 12
KELLAM & BELL,
ATTORNEY’S AT LAW & GENERAL LAND AGENTS,
ATLANTA, ::::::::::: : GA.
Will practice in DeKalb and adjoining countieß,
and in th* Supreme Court at Decatur. \\ ill also vi
=it any 1 rt °* the country for the settlement of claims
Jc. without suit.
a- 3 Bounty Land Claims prosecuted with despatch.
Office on White Hull St., over Dr. Denny’s Drug
Store.
*. R. XELLAM. M ’ A ‘ BFI1 ”
ibgTar r in g T 0 N,
Attorney at Law and Notary Public,
Oglethorpe, Jlaeou Cos.,
dec GEOR CIA- 38 ~ tf
CITY HOTEL,
SAVANNAH,•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•••GEORGIA.
P. CONDON.
Terms: Transient Boarder?, per day, $1,50. _ Monthly and
yearly Boarders in proportion. apr .> y
sltturnrn nt Turn,
OFFICE OVER BEI.DES AND CO’s. HAT STORE,
Mulberry Street. Maron, Georgia.^
HARDEMAN & ii A MILTON^
Ware House and Commission Merchants,
M/ICO.Y, GEORGIA.
HAMILTON & IIARDEMAN,
I U TORS &- COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
5.} rAxWIH, G h'.ORGIA.
Will give prompt attention to all business committed to them
at either place.
Tnns.t.A.n.siAS. QP-tf) ciias. r. nAMti.roM.
GS3aS23iSS!i©33 Si3Sa33i3S3
Savannah, Ga.
I atm P YONCK, No. 94 Bay street. Savannah, continues
\\ ir-',ranact a tlmieral Commission Uusinessand 1-actor
,.w andr."peetfai.v solicits consignments of < otto,, tore,
and other produce. He will also attend to receiving and for
wardin'! Merchandize. —
April 5, 1831 ly
\v7 D ETHERIDGE & Cos.,
rACTORS & COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
S 1F.1.Y.V.1/f, GEORGIA.
T"*
ass zxsxr *. {j. --
“"""” ire'll
H ib 0©u v
Factors & Commission, merchants,
ailg 3o SAVANNAH , GEORGIA. -6m
FIELD & ADAMS.
FI 51E-FKOOF W A SI FI3OU§Ej
MACON, GORGIA.
ri'MiF. undersigned will continue tin. Ware-Hhuse and Com
-1 Bus,ness, at the commodious and well known l- .re
proof Building, formerly occupied by Dyson & 1 iei.o an<
ZTwZ bv us. The attention of both the partners wil e
given to all business entrusted to their care respee fuh
llv solicit the patronage of the pubhc generally. They are pre
pared to make liberal cash advances on all Cotton ... store at
rates. r 1!af?glll , a „d Rope will ta fill
ed at the lowest market prices. J’ lIIN M. 11 ‘ >
aug9 ts A - B ~ Al)A ’ ~
SASH AMD WINDOW BLIND
Wl £P Si C£? ®
rpHE sut,scrit>er is manufacturing the above articles by
J Steam Machinery, at very moderate prices.
TURNING AND PLANING.
He has machinery for this business, an^villproinptlyexe
cu.c any jobs in this line. ALEX. McURECOIL
julydt! _____
r IRE INS U KANC E
BV THE
COHHIERCIAL INSURANCE COMPANY
OF CHARLESTON S. C.
CAPITAL $250,000 —ALL PUD IN.
AVs. B. Heriot, Pres A. M. Lee. Sec y.
Director * :
„ _ , Trenholm. Robert Caldwell,
K. Robinson. Leo. ircnnonn,
x. R. Taft, Henry T. Street, \\ n>. ..Icßurney, J. 11. - ’
T. I, Wragj.
-'r>lF. subscribe™ having l>oen appointed \gents for the
1 above Company, are now prepared to take risks agamst
Fire,on favorable terms. LARIIAKT, Lilt.
june'Jl’ *
OIIN. II VNKS & KOOSEVELI tender their
professional services to the citizens oi Macon and sur
rounding country. , , . , .
Residence on College Hill, Hie house formerly occupied by
Charles Dav. Office on the corner of Third and \\ alnut street,
w. banks, m. i>. (sept G-y) f. J. Roosevelt, m. and.
AT NEW YORK COST
'T'iIE undersicncd offers his Urze stock of Staple “nd Kan
-1 cy Dry GmkH to the peopleassembled dunng Ia t
and week following at New York Cost, for cat .
will be given to all customers. ‘
oct So 2t Below Levy’s Foundry, Cotton Avenue.
R. G. JEFFERSON & CO.
MANUFACTURER AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IN
CHAIRS,
West Side Broad St., first door above P. M'Larin's,
COLUMBUS, GA.
TIIKY keep on hand an excellent supply of Office, VV ooti
Seat, split Bottom and Rocking Chaus; Bedsteads, Wood
en Ware. &c.
Jjp* All Orders left as above, will meet with prompt atten
tlon. DOvl ~ tf _
AV. S. WII.LIFOBB,
COMMISSION MERCHANT AM) AUCTIONEER,
Macon, Ga.
All kinds of Produce and Merchandise, (except liquors) re
ceived on consignment.
S. & It. P. HALL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW ,
.Macon, G a .
Office on Cotton Avenue, over Little's Drug Store, (octll)
Notice.
ALL persons indebted to the late firm of TAYLOR & ROFF
by open account or note, are solicited to call at the old
stand and settle without delay. nol-2ui TAYLOR &■ ROFF.
A large lot of Knives and Forks just received and
for sale, very low. GEO. JONES.
ept 20—if
For the Georgia Citizen.
LOVE I\ T A STAGE-COACH
Or a Chapter from the History of an old Maid.
BY “ AUNT JENNIE.’’
“.? o'er true Tale.”
‘Once upon a time,’ to plunge immediately
in medias res , my friend Bell and myself receiv
ed a letter from a mutual friend and quon- j
dam school-mate, inviting us, very pressingly, ;
to spend a few weeks with her, at her ‘ain dear
haute.’ Accordingly, we consulted our careful
mamas in reference to the expediency of going
alone in the stage coach, without the protection
of any of the soi disant Lords of Creation.—
We thought two girls nearly grown, and as we
flattered ourselves fully arrived at the ‘years
of discretion,’ could easily take care of them- j
selves. Not so did onr mothers think. llow- j
ever by dint of repeated teasing and begging,
we finally obtained the desired permission.
But before proceeding further I will inform
tile gentle or simple reader, who ‘l’ and ‘Bell’ |
are, or were, for I am speaking of the time ‘
when we were but school girls. She is now, i
alas! a married woman ! To commence, then, j
with that egotistical pronoun, / was, at the
time of which 1 am writing, a young lady of
some fifteen years, with just sense enough to
save me from the cognomen of simpleton,
(though I then thought I was an amazingly
smart young lady ; time which has dispelled
most of my fine illusions, lias unfortunately
proved that said idea was founded upon but
slight grounds!) and just beauty enough to
save me from that, to woman, dreadful adjec
tive. ugly. But in regard to myself, I have
said enough. As for Bell I will be more ex
plicit, in describing her, for her sweet face de- 1
serves far more than the imperfect description
of my feeble old steel pen, (I intend to write
with a gold one when my fame is equal to that
of Madame DeStael’s!)
Arabella Willis was one of my most inti
mate friends. She was a year or two my senior,
but she seemed to prefer my love to that of the
elder girl. To use an exceedingly new and
original phrase, she was a little above the mid
dle height.’ She had one of the sweetest faces l
ever smv. Her complexion was clear and pearl
v, her cheeks brilliant with the rosy hue of
health, her eyes were of a deep grey, and in
grey eves there is no medium so to speak. They
are either extremely beautiful and expressive,
or else they are apt to resemble an old pile of
granite, ora pewter tea spoon, and are perfect
ly and outrageously uglv. Some of the finest
and most expressive eyes I ever saw were grey,
and on the other hand, the most horrid and in
expressive orbs I overlooked upon were also that
that line. Having expressed my mind freely in
regard to grev eyes, 1 will proceed with my de
scription of friend Bell. Her hair was black,
silkv mid glossy like the raven’s wing, and her
feet and hands were perfectly beautiful, fit to |
serve as a model for a sculptor. My descrip
tion mav seem verbose, but in recalling the
scenes of my pas! life, when I was a light-heart
ed, careless school girl, surrounded by kindred
and dear friends, my mind dwells with plea
sure upon those carlv friends I loved so much,
and fondly lingers with mournful joy upon the
lineaments of their faces, and the pleasant
traits of their characters. 1 lie past is my only
treasure. I have no future, and the present I
care not to dwell upon. But to proceed, as
poor Neal observes in his ‘Charcoal Sketches,
‘Digression is a runaway steed.’ Mv friend’s
character corresponded with her face. She
was the personification of amiability. Ido not
recollect of ever seeing her angry in my life,
and yet she had nothing of that meek, tame
manner which renders most very amiable peo
ple so extremely insipid. For my own part. 1
admire a little temper, always supposing that, its
possessor lias perfect.control over it. and I think
I never saw one of those uncommonly amiable
meek persons, who was possessed of brilliant
talents. But Bell was something of an excep
tion to this rule, for although by no means a
girl of great talent, sbe was lively, piquant and
sensible in her conversation, and she had in an
eminent degree that peculiar tascination of man
ner which attracts and interests, even in a
higher degree than mere beauty, unaccompa
nied by this fascination of manner.
Well, it was in the merry month of June,
that \\e received the above mentioned invitation
to go to B and in a week or two we were
ready to start. Harriet Tilman, the friend mo
were going to visit, had been a favorite school
mate of ours, and we were greatly elated at the
prospect of meeting Her again, after a separa
tion of some months. Our journey was but a
short one, which however would occupy two
days, the facilities for travelling not. being at
that time quite equal to the present, when the
‘lron Ilorse’ conveys one over the route in a
few hours, which then occupied days. Ihe day
was fortunately bright and lovely. (Mr. Edi
tor, did you ever read a story in which the days
were not uncommonly beautiful, save perhaps
an* occasional magnificent thunder storm in
troduced for the purpose of presenting an op
portunity for the hero to rescue the lovely he
roine from iminent peril ?) \\ e were to leave
mv father’s house, where Bell had spent the
preceding night, at eight o’clock A M. and we
arose betimes and, as the servant girl said, fidg
eted about like two old maids, waiting very
impatiently for the stage coach, which was to
take us on our first trip of independence , as we
thought it. Our things were in a perfectly
prepared state, and we attired in our travelling
dresses two hours before the usual time for the
coach to appear, but finally after what seemed
to us an age. The stage coach did drive up to
the Post Office, and Hotel and then to my fath
er’s house, at five minutes past eight, which
we thought an unpardonable waste of time.—
Our luggage was taken out, and placed upon
the stage coach, and Byll and myself, after lis
tening demurely to my mother’s injunctions in
regard to restraining our spirits within due
bounds, and behaving in a lady-like mannei.
which we of course, promised most readily,
bade the family adieu, and were assisted into
the coach, which seemed to us like Cinderjlla s
fairy coach formed from a pumpkin, about to
convey us to perfect joy and felicity. An how
brilliant our visions are in early youth, and even
when we see them fade, and ’leave not a wreck
behind,’ our imagination can supply us with am
ple materials for building anew city of air cas
tles, peopled with beings, bright, beautiful and
good, and ’tis only when we are taught the stern
lessons of life repeatedly, that we are rudely
awakened from our cherished dreams, to the sad
bitter realities of life. I have dreamed my share of
fine dreams, and I would that I could now ex
perience the same joy I was wont to, formerly,
in indulging in imagination’s bright pictures,
but one or two lessons in particular have taught
me that wisdom I would gladly lose. I know
“Snipjirnitrnt in nil tilings —firatrnl in nofljing”
MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 29, 1851.
liuman nature too well. Would that I nud not the
power 1 have to read in the great, but gloomy book.
To resume again. When we seated ourselves in the
coach there were already seven occupants, but they po
litely made room for Bell and myself, and gave us a seat
by each other. They were doubtless prepossessed in our
favor, from the glimpse they had of us, e’re we enter
ed the carriage! Bell and myself occupied the n iddle
| scat, and when we were comfortably settled, & the stage
| drove off, I commenced a survey of our campagnions
du voyage, in order to ascertain, what kind of crowd
we had fallen into, so far as I could decide by cursory
observation. I raised my eyes first towards the seal
opposite ourselves, and encountered the gaze of a pair of
large, dark brilliant orbs fixed upon my face—said eyes
had their place in a face of which the features were
all in harmony, nose, mouth and forehead—all were
remarkably fine. The teeth, which were partially seen,
j were white and dazzling and entirety free from that
’ dark ugly stain which the ‘lndian weed’ gives to the
teeth of a majority of the precocious gentlemen of the
present day. Over his high white brow, bung masses of
datk waving hair which here and there formed itself into
curls which I could but envy their possessor. 1 made a
i very rapid inventory in my mind, of the meriis of his
i physiognomy, for the blood rushed unceremoniously, to
j my cheeks, as I met his fixed gaze, and 1, immediately
and with some embarrasment, turned my head towards
Bell, toseeif she also observed this young Apollo.
By the crimson tint in her cheek, I inferred that she,
too, had met the thrilling glance of those dark eyes.
The rest of the company looked, as 1 once heard a per
son quaintly say of a certain religious congregation,
like ‘the scum of creation,’ consequently I shall not call
the reader’s patience into requisition by any more per
sonal descriptions. The young gentleman above men
tioned seemed perhaps more interesting and gentle
manly from the force of contrast. Be that as
!it rna v , he soon commenced conversing with us, and it
was not long before vve all became quite communtea
tive and free,our companion proving himself to be as
interesting in manners and conversation, as in personal
appearance. But l could but observe that Bell unlike
her usual self, left us to sustain the conversation most
ly —appearing a little sad, it seemed to me, which
somewhat surprised me, as she was, generally, more
ready with common polite chit chat than myself. Our
new acquaintance showed himself very gentlemanly
and kind in his attention to us, and removed all the
embarassment we had felt at leaving home without a
gentleman’s protection. A few hours after our depar
ture from home, hearing Bell and myself speak ofbeing
on our way to B to visit in Judge Tihnan’s fami
ly, he looked at us with surprise, amd enquired if it
was to B. we had spoken of going, and upon my re
plying in the affirmative he informed us that he resid
ed there, and was a distant relative of Jude T's. family,
and when we heard his name, which he then told us, we
were surprised and gratified, for we had so often heard
Harriet Tilman speak of cousin Fred Murry, it seem
ed almost like falling into the company of an old ac
quaintmee. All reserve was now banished, an J we
enjoyed ourselves much, joking, laughing and talking of
friend Hattie and her lathers's family,of which Mur
ry told us many good and amiable traits, and we final-
I !y became so merry and well pleased with each others’
society, that the silent people around us in the stage,
who had hardly opened their mouths to utter a word
since we left homo, stared at. us w ith astonishment,
aiijl one old maid (1 am confident she belonged to the
worthv sisterhood front her remarkably prim, stiff de
meanor, and more especially from that peculiar vinegar
like expression of countenance that ladies, who live in
a ‘state of single blessedness’ are apt to wear,) cast
sundry annihilating glances towards us, and looked
volumes of spite and warning, which however had but
little effect, save to cause Fred Murry to make some
remarks, so irresistibly comic, that wc could not restrain
our risibles, although we feared she might suspect she
was the object of our mirth. And while Bell and
myself were nearly choked with laughter, Fred Mur
ry, with a face portentiously long and grave, turned
towards her, (she sat on the same seat he did) and ad
dressed some of the most polite and polished speeches
toher, which she received so graciously and simper
ii.gly and looked at him so condescendingly, Bell and
myself could hut laugh, with all our efforts to avoid it,
and the old maid looked at us with double distilled ven
om in her glance,and observed, ‘1 do detest little flirting
giggling foolish school girls,’ at whi :h remark Murry
bowed profoundly and with the gravity of a Judge
replied, T too dislike such ladies, but oh, madam I ad
mire, I almost adore a young lady of matured charms,
and of some dignity of demeanor —a lady, for instance,
like yourself, just beyond twenty.’ The old maid fair
ly laughed out right at this speech, and if she had
not left the stage in an hour or two after, I am certain
she would have ‘set her cap’ directly at Fred Murry,
whom she overwhelmed with talk after his fine speech,
much to his annoyance. When we stopped for the
night, which we did about ten o’clock, Murry attend-
ed to all our wants in the kindest manner, and after
partaking of a substantial supper, and chatting a short
time in the parlor of the hotel, Bell and myself retired
for the night, being informed that the stage would be
ready to start again at day light. When alone in otir
room, 1 remarked to Bell ‘hav'nt we had a nice time,
and is’nt Murry very agreeable?’ She nodded as
sent to my queries, hut made no reply, and finding she
was in an unusually taciturn mood, 1 soon fell asleep,
dreaming of stage coaches, interesting passengers et
cetera, and, if the truth be told, 1 felt a curious, inde
scribable sensation, in th - region of the heart, when I
thought ofour new acquaintance, and although 1 should
have ridiculed the idea of being in love with one whose
acquaintance 1 had so recently formed, I could not con
fess I admired hint more than anv gentleman 1 had ever
seen, for unlike most school girls, I had never possessed
that faculty that ‘bread and butter Misses’ usualiv have,
in such an eminent degree, of becoming ‘smitten’ in
common parlance, with each youth they see. Murry
had shown far more attention to myself than he had
done to Bell, and I was, alas! at a very susceptible
age ! But not to anticipate. We arose betimes in the
morning, and immediately, after a very early breakfast,
we started again, Murry again showing us all those
little kind attentions, which go so far with our sex, and
cost the other so little trouble. The day passed quite
as pleasantly as the preceding one, in truth it was more
agreeable, from the fact that we had the carriage to
ourselves, there being no other passengers, and con
sequently wo felt more freedom to laugh, talk and
sing.
We stopped to dine, and then proceeded again, and
about four o’clock P. M. we arrived at our destination,
in llte pretty village of B , and the driver took us
directly to the house of Judge T. and, immediately,
we saw pleasant faces peeping from the window, and
as Murry assisted us to alight, our friend Harriet Til
man and her two sisters came out to greet us, and a
kindly reception it was. They were evidently surprised
to see us in company with Murry, but a few words
explained the matter, and after inviting him to return
and spend the evening with us, he bade us adieu and
went home. We were ushered into the house, and
presented to Harriet’s parents, who showed us the
kindest attention, then, and during the whole of our
sojourn with them. After a few kind enquiries on
all sides, the girls conducted us to our room, where we
soon divested ourselves of our traveling dresses, and
prepared ourselves for evening—or as Harriet said
‘primped to see Murry !’ Then we returned to the
drawing-room uad spent some time in remiseences of
the past, recalling our school days, with all their joys
and griefs—often laughing heartily at some well re-
memberd joke, and again speaking sadly of some de
parted friend, but while engaged in calling up images
from the past, we were reminded pleasingly of the pre
sent, by a summons to supper, of which we partook
with the appetites of travelers —and then the lamps
were lit. and we prepared to spend a social happy eve
ning.
Presently we heard the door bell ring; my heartbeat
in double quick time. I felt assured who it was, and
I ‘guessed’ (being a Yankee, I possessed the true Yan
kee faculty of guessing ) truly —for Murry directly
entered the room where we were, and seated himself
by my side. The evening passed all too quickly to
me, with music to aid in its flight. Bell did not
seem like her usual merry self, and when we rallied
her upon her loss of spirits, she excused it by the usu
al disease with ladies, the headache, though I observed
when we retired to our room for the night, she was as
lively and communicative as any of us. The next day the
young lieaux of the villege proposed to us to join a boat
ride where vve could form tliTacquaintance of all the
young folks, without waiting the ceremony of receiv
ing fashionable calls, and not being great sticklers for
etiquette, we cheerfully accepted the invitation. The
day was bright and the sky clear and cloudless, and
our excursion proved to be as delightful in reality as it
had been from anticipation—(rather a remarkable cir
cumstance by the way, and worthy of being recorded
in this wise history (!) We were introduced to all
the party, both girls and boys, among whom we found
some very intelligent and agreeable young people, of
both sexes, for B abounded in young folks—and
pleasant ones too. We spent the morning rowing upon
the clear smooth surface of the pond, called by the girls
‘Lake Geneva,’ some of our number essaying their
piscatory skill, with sufficient success to add some fine
fish to our rustic repast, which vve partook of in a grove
on the banks of the lake, where a part of the young
men had arranged it.
About four o’clock P. M. we returned to B and
the whole party were invited to take supper at Judge
IPs. and spend the evening, which invitation they ac
cepted. During the week vve were constantly en
gaged ill some pleasure excursion, which though de
lightful to me, I will not attempt to describe. Muny
was always with us in all our parties, and usually by
my side—and when not otherwise engaged lie spent his
time at Judge B's. with us, where the time if not
passed as gaily, to me seemed even more delightful than
when 1 saw him in a crowd. I soon discovered that
I was happier in his society than any where else, and
I could not long blind myself to the fact that I had giv
en him my heart unasked--but the thought brought
no humiliation with it, for how could I doubt that my
love was reciprocated ? I had but little experience in
such matte rs it is true, but if particular attention, and
lover-like deference meant anything, I could not doubt
that Murry loved me, and would take an early oppor
tunity of telling me so, and 1 was surprised that he did
not appreciate Bell’s charms of face and manners more.
I know I was not beautiful nor attractive, but towards
801 l his manners were merely polite and respectful,
and on her part, she really seemed to avoid him. To
me her conduct was inexplicable, for she was sad and
abstracted, most of the time, and once on suddenly
entering our chamber 1 found her in tears. M lien I
enquired the cause of her grief, she .seemed embar
rassed, and would not offer any satisfactory explana
tion, but endeavored to appear w ith her usual cheer
fulness.
When we left home, we tioipatarif staying
but two or throe weeks, but out, Jjtds prised us so
urgently to extend our visit to a length, that
we gladly consented, provided we could obtain the per
mission of our parents to do so—and it was with ex
ceeding joy on my own part, that I received a letter
containing the desired permission—but our addition
al time hail now nearly expired, and vve expected our
friends to come for us in a few days. We had now
been in B six weeks, which bad to me fled like
a dream. A few days before we expected to leave
vve were invited to attend a large and brilliant party,
given by the young people at a neighboring house,
where we had become very intimate during our so
journ in the town. They were wealthy and fashiona
ble people, and the party was expected to be a splen
did affair, and great preparations were being made,
many persons being invited from a distance, both mar
ried and single. We anticipated the party with much
pleasure, the more as there was to be dancing. Mean
while, Bell’s conduct still seemed strange. At one
time, she would sit sad and silent, with a pale cheek
and heavy eye, not seeming to notice what took place
around her. Again, her gaiety was startling, so wild
was she in her mirth. Murry once enquired of me if
she was always so variable in her conduct, and when 1
replied, that 1 never saw her so, until vve came to
li , he fell into a deep reverie, and did not answer
my next question till 1 had repeated it two or three
times —and then he started and appeared embarrassed,
though wherefore, 1 was too blind then to surmise.
The evening of the party at length arrived, and
Murry who was to attend us there, came some time
before vve were ready. In fact I do not recollect of a
young gentleman’s ever finding a lady quite ready to
go to any place whatever! Bell and myself were in
our chamber dressing and were not aware that Murry
had arrived. Never had I seen Bell look so beautiful
its site did that night, in a dress of white tarleton,
with short sleeves. She wore no ornaments, save
one bracelet on Iter full white ann. Her hair hung in
its own natural glossy ringlets on Iter brow, and around
her luad was a wreath of green leaves and scarlet
flowers. The hurry of dressing, and the excitement
of the anticipated party —had given a fine carnation to
her check, and lent a lustre to her expressive eyes, and
wheu she had completed her toilet 1 could not for
bear expressing my enthusiastic admiration, as in those
days I generally said what 1 thought without consider
ing etiquette or consequences. I have learned better,
however, since. As 1 was hardly ready, Bell proposed
to go to the parlor, to practice some pieces she intend
ed to play during the evening, and 1 was left alone. Jn
about twenty minutes I was leaday, and taking my
gloves and handkerchief in nty hand, 1 descended the
stairs. The door of the drawing room was a little
ajar, and hearing a low murmur of voices I peeped in
thinking it was only the girls, and intending to frighten
them a little by suddenly springing into the room. On
the sofa sat Murry with one arm thrown around Bell’s
slender form while her head reposed on his shoulder—
I stood transfixed of course, and unable to move, till
the spell was broken when 1 heard him say, ‘I have
loved you, doarest Bell, from the first moment 1 saw you
but thinking you disliked me I forbore telling you.’ 1
now felt I mnst listen no longer, and with an effort I sb
lently and unseen returned to my chamber, and turning
the key of the door, I threw myself upon the couch
and clasping my hands over my eyes, as if to shut out
some horrible sight, l remained thers, almost paralized
with such anguish as we can never feel but once, and
that when our first great bitter heart-trial comes upon
us when our first joyous trusting dream of love is
rudely dispelled by some cold harsh reality of life.
‘Tis a pity that one cannot be allowed to revel in
Utopian dreams of the good and beautiful in youth
without being so grievously deceived by some trusted
friend , that the vision is suddenly dispelled, and sees
human nature as it is. I know not how long I remain
ed in this state of silent sorrow. To me it seemed as
if hours had passed when llarrmt knocked at the door,
and in gay, blithe tones, which grated harshly on my
ear, demanded admittance. I roused myself, and en
deavored, for the first time in my life, to appear cheer
-1 ful, when I felt sorrowful, and when I opened the door
she exclaimed, ‘why Jennie ! what is the matter ? \ou
are as pale as a ghost.’ With a continued effort, 1 re
plied gaily, ‘1 have had n severe attack of tooth ache
which compelled me to lie down a few minutes, but it
has passed now.’ If I had said heart-ache , 1 should
have come nearer the truth. ‘Well* said she, ‘you
should have called for some remedy. You know Tin
quite a Doctor but as you are better, you must hasten.
W eare all ready, and only waiting on you, and don’t |
you think, Fred Murry and Bell have suddenly become
the best friends in the world —after seeming to dilsike
each other so long !’ She laughed and we went to
gether to the room where the rest were waiting, for us
1 returned Murry’s joyous salutation, cheerfully, and
we immediately got ready to start. Murry assisted us
into the carriage, and seated himself by Bell.
I will not attempt to describe the torture of that
evening. All was mirth and revelry, every eye
sparkled and every cheek glowed as the gay strains of
music sounded through the rooms, preparatory to
dancing. Murry danced the first set with4iell, anc(
both looked the personification of happiness. I danced
but once with him, and I saw, now the scales bad fallen
from niy eyes, that bis polite and friendly attention to
me had never meant anything. And l noticed when
not by Bell’s side, his eye was continually turning in
the direction where she was. I watched them both,
closely, inflicting voluntary torture upon myself. W hen
I look back through the vista of many years I can but
wonder that 1 bore my sorrow so well —my first, as it
was, of any magnitude, and maintained any show of
cheerfulness in that festive throng. When the paity
had finally closed and the revellers bad all departed,
ourselves included, 1 retired to my room immediately,
pleading fatigue, and left the rest of our circle iu the
parlor, canvassing the merits of ladies, gentlemen, Arc.
It was late and l seated mysel by an open window,
and indulged iu bitter thought until Bell came in, ra
diant with joy, and exclaimed, “why Jennie, you ought
not to be sitting by that window, and you are com
plaining ol feeling unwell too. You are inprudent.”
1 replied, I felt better to have the air blow on my head,
and did not stir. Bell then observed that she bad a
secret to tell me, and she proceeded to relate how she
had loved Murry from the first of our meeting in the
stage coach, but that he did not love her, she had tried
to overcome it, Arc., and how, when she, that evening,
had found him unexpectedly in the parlor alone, she
had started to return to our room, but he implored
her to remain, and then declared his love. 1 did not
l.sten to her words further, but when the sound of her
voice ceased 1 knew she would expect my sympathy
and congratulations, which 1 gave freely and sincerely,
with a silent prayer that she might ever be as joyful as
now. Having told her secret, her mind was free and
she in mediately retired, and in a few moments was in !
a sweet slumber, while I remained in my smt till morn
ing, when 1 went out and took a long walk, hoping the
morning air would cool my fevered brow —when 1 re
turned to the house, one of the girls exclaimed, with
astonishment, “why Jennie have you been to take a
walk after such a night’s fatigue, and with your paity
dress on too, Ido believe you have not slept at all.” 1
wiis obliged to make sundry excuses and explanations,
lor sooth to say, 1 had entirely forgotten to change my
dress.
How ardently I now longed for the period of our
visit to expire,-which one day before 1 would have glad
ly extended to months or years! At length my bro
ther made his appearance in IJ. and in a day or two
alter his arrival, we again entered the stage conch to
return home. In the few weeks I had been absent,
was crowded the happiness and misery of years, for I
‘’ had been blessed’ in my dream of love. We seem
ed different beings, Bell and myself, from what we
had been a week before, that is to say, we seemed to
have changed characters, for after the sadness of part
ing with our kind entertainers, and with Murry par
ticularly, had wore oil, Bell was full of mirth and joy
and I continued to appear as cheerful as I could, but
at times my gloom was so great my brother and Bell
remarked it, aud wondered why I had “the blues.’’
Murry and Bell parted betrothed lovers, lie was to
visit her in a few weeks, aud then a time was to be
appointed for their bridal. The second day after leav
ing Judge T's. wc again saw our native village. I
felt like a weary wanderer returning from exile—sad,
disheartened and weary. -I was glad only to be again
at home and at peace. “There’s rest when hope is
gone.’’ Bell lived about a mile from me, and she
went immediately to her father's house. The ensuing
day 1 arose feverish and ill, and before night was in a
confirmed fever, with very dangerous symptoms. The
tension and exciterncut of mind 1 had endured, together
with my careless exposure of myself to the night air,
the evening or rather morning of the party, were
doubtless the cause of my illness, I lay for many
weeks ill in body and mind, and desiring nothing but
death ! but he came not. lie comes not when we de
sire his presence. I was extremely thankful that I
was not delirious during my sickness, for I did not
wish to have the secret of nay unrequited love known.
When I recovered sufficiently to travel, my parents
took me to Saratoga,and to visit some friends in N. Y.
1 recovered slowly, and being urgently invited to re
main with my friends during the winter, my parents
finally consented.
My tale is nearly done. I returned homo in the
Spring utterly changed in feeling. From a gay and
gladsome girl Iliad become a sad woman, so that my
former fiiends said they could scarcely recognize mu.
I learned that Murry had visited Bell twice during my
absence, and- the following June, one year from the
time of our visit to B. she was to be married. Bell
desired me to officiate in the capacity of bridesmaid,
and I consented to do so. When the time arrived, 1
met Murry with perfect calmness. In fact I had con
quered my ill fated attachment, but “what deep wound
ever healed without a sear ?” It had left its impress
on my soul, and had influenced my character for aye.
Immediately after the bridal ceremony Murry and his
wife started off to the Springs, Lake Champlain, &c.,
for a wedding tour,and I did not see them again for years,
but more of that, anon, gentle reader.
Ifyou have read thus far, and are not one of the wor
thy sisterhood yclept “ old maids ’ don t “turn u;
your nose’’ (classically speaking) because you are read
ing the trials—a portion of them—of one ol the num
ber. Learn to respect their good qualities, aud to be
lieve they are as worthy as married ladies. I have
known one or two (!) admirable old maids. But to
conclude. Tlte fall after Bed was married I left my own
Green Mountain State for the ‘‘sunny South, and 1
did not return to the North for nearly four years.
When I did return, I went, after a while, with my
dear friend Lottie to visit .Mrs. Murry, who had moved
to a neighboring village. They lived in a nice white
cottage, and I was told were in a prosperous condition.
Bell met us rather coolly, and then, before sbe invited
us to sit or remove our travelling gear, one of her two
brats set up such a squall, at the sight of us, that she
sat down to hush it without paying any farther attention
to us, and while she sat there, I looked at her faded
face and thick squabby figure with astonishment. Af
ter the little responsibility was soothed, with the aid of
a large piece of cake, she coolly invited us to remove
our bonnets. We had been travelling many miles,
and it was nearly dinner time, but no invitation did we
receive to eat nndrefrcsh ourselyes ; Presently Mur
ry came in. lie greeted us cordially, gild urged us to
remain. We of course refused, and how perfectly as
tonished I was, that I had ever loved him. Where
were his glossy curls ? his white teeth, (alas I he used
tobacco now ■’) and where his fascination of manner ?
I shrewdly suspect they had existed in my own imagi
nation more than elsewhere. And thus it is with our
sex. We love, and we fancy the beloved object is per
feet. Alas! we are soon undeceived. Lottie and my*
self bade the Murrys a cool adieu, and I thought to
niyself, as I gave the parting hand t> my dear friend
Bell, “sic transit ’’ the friendship of schools girls. My
tale is done. “Would it were worthier.’’
AUNT JENNY.
For the Georgia Citizen.
Recent Revolutions.
BY REV. P. G. BEARBOAX.
The keen observers who arc fond of remarking up
on the “ spirit of the age,” n ust hav i been struck with
the frequency of rcuolutions which have occurred
within the past few years. The many volumed annals
of the world which look down upon us from library
shelves seem to present but a continuous panorama of
fighting armies and conquest, marching generals—and
seem to teach us that the former education of nations
consisted only in acquiring the brilliant accomplishments
of warfare. But the unwritten history of the middle !
of the nineteenth century, will be one of internal con
flicts, of contests between governments and the gov
erned—of struggles on the part of hoary despotisms to
preserve their power and on the part of the people to
“ resume the sovereignty” which had been wrested from
them. The successful example of that revolution
which gave birth to the “model republic’’ lias reacted
upon the continent of Europe, with terrific power, and
stirred up from their lowest depths its swarming mil
lions.
France has,since IS 17, passed through strange vi
cissitudes. One day, and the King of the French trod
his palace a powerful ruler. They next saw him a
stricken wanderer—his hoarded treasures confiscated,
the defences, by which he vainly hoped to preserve hi
power for a successor, worse than useless. A Provi
sional Government was hastily formed, and the Em
pire was called, a Republic. The prestige of a name
placed an ambitious Prince, at its head, whose first
taste of power, awoke to renewed energy the imperial
longings which had marked his early career. During
his administration, a tumultuous assembly has viqjved
all his acts, with a jealousy akin to that which finally
overthrew Charles, the First, and lie has returned the
feeling with more prudence but more hatred than bis
prototype. Strenuous efforts have been made to have
the constitution amended, that be may be eligible tore
election. The failure of this maneuvre, has turned
his rage upon the Press, and restrictions and censor
ships, and fines and imprisonments have trammeled
its freedom. He has gone farther than Austria or
Prussia in his vindictive proscription of that power,
tyrants so much dread. Such have been the changes
of this chameleon republic, but a Gordian knot still
binds the destiny of France, which Louis Napo
leon must sever with the sword, before he wears the im
perial crown.
Germany lias been the theatre of revolution, and
bloodshed. Prussia lias magnanimously granted cer
tain immunities and privileges to her subjects, and thus
escaped the fury of an aroused people, resolved to ob
tain their rights.
Austria points to the Magyar Rebellion, where
the antagonist principles of despotism and liberty met
iu deadly embrace. The Hungarian struggle for inde
pendence, though disastrous in its result, lias been
most powerful in its influence. It lias planted a hope
in the heaits of the oppressed of Europe which shall
yet bloom in happy fulfillment, and created in our bo
soms an absorbing sympathy for their unmerited misfor
tune. The splendor and celat with which lhe cam
paign was opened—the immense armies that were ne
cessary to crush their spirit of Hungary, and the un
expected treachery which blasted like a thunderbolt,
have invested the Magyar Revolution with an interest
almost romantic.
Italy too has struck a blow, seemingly, as if fired by
a spark from that vestal altar of Republicanism, which
has been kept burning beneath her sunny skv, for fif
teen hundred years, on the monument elift’ of San
Marino. With an opulence of classic association, that
attracts and inspires the citizen of distant climes, she
has existed as a cluster of petty sovereignties—without
influence and power, and with nothing great, but the
weakness of her degenerated race. Suddenly, the
Pope is driven from his throne, to be as suddenly rein
stated —and now he occupies his scat, sustained by the
presence of a foreign soldiery.
Spain and Portugal, whose voice is scarcely heard
in the Councils of Europe, have each trembled beneath
the stock of fraternal blows, and have set examples of
misrule and revolution, which have been imitated by
their Western offspring, both of North and South
America.
Turkey, effete and barren as she seemed, lias recently
been startled into new life aad vigor, by the galvanic
touch of progress, and we had hoped, she was about
to enter upon anew existence. But truly pitiable is
her condition now with revolting provinces and rebel
leaders defying her, and foreign despots threatening, and
an exhausted treasury to supply the “sinews of war.”
And China —the walled nation, with its stifling
overgrowth of human life, seems to have caught the
spirit of Revolution, from the “outside barbarians,”and
with a national proclivity to imitation is following aeeu- j
ratclv the bloody copy. Other nations have witnessed
similar outbreaks and have added further confirmation
as to the correctness of our position.
But let us turn from these examples, to the most
recent page of our national history, and find there,
themes for profound reflection, and contrasts most
gratifying to patriotism. The ceaseless swell of the
ocean which prevents it from becoming a vast, stagnant,
tideless pool breeding pestilential vapors, becomes at
the bidding of the tempest, an uncontrolled agent of,
destruction. So the discussions of pasties, by which
the American mind is kept watchful and jealously alive
to its great interests—may in the agitation of momen
tous questions, become a terrific power. Sitiee the pe
riod, which has witnessed the uprooting of ancient
thrones, and the triumph of Absolutism in Europe the
United States have emerged from a fearful peril.
The great epidemic, which ha swept so widely, has
passed over our land. In other countries, its course
has been marked by blood, by a shutting down of the
flood gates of industry, fratricidal scenes, and war, and
ruin. Hereditary oppression has asserted its prescrip,
tive right to rule, and whispered back to their habitual
level, the “common herd.” But here, a great con
test has raged, yet the hum of the mill, and the hearty
song of labor hav# never ceased. The discordant ele
ments have been quieted, without an appeal tothesword.
The felt obligations of duty, the precepts of reason
aud the silent but powerful decision of the ballot box.
have settled what in every other nation, would have
lighted the torch of civil war aud arrayed brothers
and kinsmen in hostile ranks. The government lias
calmly and impartially held its protecting tegis over all
and shown no disturbing fear, when threats were made
for its destruction. What “king,’’ or “power,” or
“ ruler of all the tribes of men'’ that would brook
avowed enmity to his sceptre and treat with forbearance
those who openly plotted his overthrow ? What
“ sovereign” that would be seemingly indifferent to any
hostile demonstration of Bis people ? Where is the
“ Prince’’ or “Emperor’’ that would permit undisturb
ed preparations, foA a bloody struggle, to be made’w ith
in his borders, the undenied object of which was to
wrest from his power a portion of his domains,
Yet of all those extraordinary anomalies has our
government, the offspring of our constitution—been
guilty, and instead of verifying the language of those
who term it a “splendid failure’’ it now stands a monu
ment of wisdom. The most respected government in
the world—while with filial obedience it reflect* all
“entangling alliances"’ and represses all the officious
interference of foreign cabinets, it can with self-sustain
ing dignity use language, rather too republican iu its
simplicity, for the studied politeness of the Kuropean
diplomatists. It moves with the silence and precission
of a machine and the intelligence and discretion of a
mind. T his is the simple cause which has made us so
great a people. May the cause be perpetual.
For the Georgia Citizen.
The Bloomer.
“Teque his ixfelix, exuk monstru,” Odd Met.
II cnch, that thou art , put off this monstrous garh, ,y
MeJui ttng, last evening, as is my wont upon the
degeneracy o! the times, and the changes, for the worse
which have occurred within syy own recollection, I
happened t east my eyes in their speculative wander
ings upon the fantasiic dress of my grandmother which
hung upon the chamber wall, displaying to much ad
vantage the long train and bombard sleeves, that had
once made my well favored and highly respectable an
cestress, no little vain. In those days, when this vete
ran garment figured in all the splendor of Huff and
Farthingale, ou- greatly to be pitied mothers were de
plorably ignorant of the intimate sympathy existing be
tween short skirts and woman’s rights, and most proba
bly the good old lady, innocent of philosophy, would
have shunned the teachings of Abby Kelly as infectious
or turned the cnbrecched Smith from her doors as likely
to corn.pt the tender ideas of her boys. As I imagined
the honest astonishment and horror with which tha
foolish dame would doubtless have ousted the “brazen
faced trollope .” I laughed aloud at the idea of ma
dame exercising one of her new found rights in an
invitation to coffee and pistols, or in ease of refusal to
satisfy her thirsty honor, lathering the rceussant with
the delicate cowhide.
Bet a few year* ago, I was forced to secede from the
lao.es by the tearful fainting epidemic that developed
itseit whenever a handsome gentleman was near
enough to catch the falling patient. In fact it was gene
rally known, though not advertized, that young women
especially, could get up swooning fits to suit customers
upon the shortest notice. At that time it was a most
heinous crime tolnnt at the possibility 0 f the fairer sex
,assessing any single quality of gross humanity: and
to dream that they ever ate, drank, walked or reclined,
without cavalier assistance would have placed the heed
less lover in the same garotte that Lopez f oq „d ao un.
comfortable. But ‘ oh, femina semper mutabile''—.
the very daughters of these same air bred undine* no
longer faint but keep you in equal apprehension of a
shot or a horse whip, should you treaJ on a mental
corn. And, positively, the fine old widow who has been
my partner at every rubber for years, and never once
revoked—not once—believe women ought to wear the
breech:s and pop questions, and forces on me the trou
blous alternative, to take her as partner for life or lose
lei as partner for whist. ‘Quousque tandem Catali
na abutere nostra patient m ” which translated means,
low long shall such cattle abuse our patience.” Oh
my rubber, my rubber. As 1 ,1 1US exclaimed, grieving
over my tribulations an unvoluntary tear dimmed my
eye, wearried nature droop.,], my eyc closeJ) htaJ
dropped, the pipe died oat, and before me rose, Sir, the
majesty of truth, a vision of the eventuality of Wo
man's Rights.
I believed woman glorious i„ the possession of her
rights, standing side by side with man, “redeemed re
generated and disenthralled.” Her long and luxuriant
locks had fallen before the steel of progress. Her
soft and inviting form had lost the delicacy and as
sumed the coarseness of man. Her face no longer the
star of worship, her manners no longer the solace of
suffering. The curious waddling of her gait betrayed
the newness of the costume and her voice was rough
and unharmonious. She had grasped her destiny, and
every portal of man was open for her reception. She
doctored, she plead, she commanded and she fought,
hut alas for human contentment, the cruel Masons, ob
jects of her youthful hate, still refused to pollute the
hall dedicated to manly virtues by admitting the tailing
drove to their counsel. She stood beside the couch of
pain, and her angel hand no longer soothed the sufferer’s
P-Ilow but sternly performed the operation. Upon the
tierce steed she thundered o’er the field, of the
wounds inflicted by her iron heeled charger. And midst
the flowery paths of heart softening polities and law,
she moved majesty and pride. 1 viewed her tl.us-
W.thout the Strength of man or the beauty of woman,
a conscious instance of mistaken destiny, But lu ! a
change Afodo vir mods fxminu,” Madame the
doctor luts.thc vapors, she can’t come. General Polly
is dumpish, the enemy must positively wait for the bat
tle till she is well. Colonel Mary is nursing, will the
gentleman call again, and Captain Sake is in a very
delicate position, her ship cannot sail till.—But lord a I
she M oreester Convention would screech to hear tell
hat, and 1 )i. Hunt would^ feel a decided tendency to
fnnt. “ Admissi speetatuin tene.atis risum.” May
my vision always be a dream. *
1 have an insuperable objection to woman's become
coming practitioners of any of the learned professions,
.f she were a lawyer the law would invariably turn
towards the prettiest advocate. If a judge, she would
always decide for the highest Collar, or emptiest head
of curls, if a doctor, poison would lose its virtue from
her hands, and we must whistle for the better part of
the dispensatory, and if a preacher, I would ask with
martial, “Si leo tu fueris qualis leo crt>,” which is to
say, if you are a preacher you be .The history- of
bullion would probably form one of the most curious
i° f all volu,T,w . a knowledge of the causes of va
j rious changes would certainly be no less interesting.
Our precise forefathers were equally changeable and
infinitely more grotesque in their habits, than we are,
and when I remember the huge hoop and towerlike
ruff that enclosed our poor mother’s corpus. I cannot
help thinking ,t possible that the strange incubus of
Bloomer dresses may fall upon us. If it docs, I sin
*” ‘ P 3ll * 1 ’ w i!i be tights, or else knee bree-
C ’ 11 fo,nK * r days, patches were introduced bo
cause t•i - \ \\ere found convenient to bide a mole, and
on of tlie I u.lor queens invented bishops, to hide an
uneven hip. Huge wigs, flowing in perpetual train tq
the waist of the wearer, were made to conceal tha
round shoulders of Louis Le Grand, and in the same
••go the pur. tin Des Caures predicated the damnatiou
: of many pretty souls upon the fact that they wt*e trains
so long, they required maidens in the outer rooms to
support them. Beaus stuffed out their clothes with
meal bran, and ladies wore huge hoops. Sir Walt’s
Raleigh saith, lie “ would reyther site the Spaniard,
than board one of these pretty pieces.’’ 1 remember
that the late Alexander of Russia ordered his Cossacks
to lop oft all [>ar:s of the pantaloons below the knee,
and a man's calf depended upon the skill of a barba
rian in trimming the bark of s tree without touching
the rind.
The ladies of Worcester doubtless fancy that free
dom from restraints of dress is synonymous with the
attainment of their own rights. And so thought
the British Parliament w hen to break the spirit of the
Highlanders they ordered them to leave off their na
tural dress and wear breeks. But permit me to say
to them Unit the Swab an squaw wears an
Bloomer, and is yoked to the cart with the sieir. X>,
jS t O. 35