Newspaper Page Text
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DAS UERREOTYPIST,
OTACON, GA.
gST ENTRANCE FROM THE AVENUE.
aprl9 t s
HAIUROAD HOUSE,
OPPOSITE CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT
EAST MACON.
* T ts S. M. LANIER.
jack mows.
attorney at law,
BUENA VISTA, MARION CO., OA.
aprl2 ly
P. G. ARRINGTON,
Attorney at Law and Notary Public,
Oglethorpe, IVacon Cos.,
dec GEORGIA. 38—ts
“city hotelT
SAVANNAH,•.•••.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•GEORGIA.
P. CONDON.
Tkrmk: —Transient Boarders, per day, $1,50. Monthly and
yearly Boarders in proportion. apr s—ys—y
©§!©!! IE h* L©OIKII^AMIEj
attoruri] at lam,
OFFICE OVEIt BF.LDEN AND CO’s. HAT STORE,
Mulberry Street, Macon, Georgia.
HARDEMAN *fc HAMILTON,
Ware House and Commission Merchants,
.VtfCOJV, GEORGIA.
HAMILTON & HARDEMAN,
FACTORS Ac COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
SAVAMMAH, GEORGIA.
Will Rive prompt attention to all business committed to them
at either place.
THOS. HARDEMAN. ( 19—ts) CHAS. F. HAMILTON.
FACTORAGE AND
Savannah, Ga.
WM. P. YONGE, N0.94 Bay street. Savannah, continues
to transact a General Commission Business and Factor
age, and respectfully solicits consignments of Cotton, Corn,
and other produce. He will also attend to receiving and for
warding Merchandize. —
April 5, 1851 ly
W. D. ETHERIDGE & Cos.,
FACTORS Ac COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
SAVA.Y.YAH , GEORGIA.
THE undersigned having formed a Copartnership for the
transaction of the above business, tender their services
to their friends and the public generally and solicit a share of
patronage. We will pay strict attention to the sale of ('otton
or other produce consigned to our care and all orders for Bag
ging, Rope and family supplies will be promptly attended to
and filled at the lowest prices. Liheral advances will be made
upon Cotton or other produce consigned to us.
s. r. oove, (aug-23-y) w. and. etiieridde.
KAABUiN!, (FULTON & G©.,
Factors A Commission Merchants,
aug3o SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. Gin
FIELD & ADAMS,
FIRE-FKOOF WAREHOUSE,
MACON, GORGIA.
THE undersigned will continue tin. Ware-House and Com
mission Business, at the commodious and well known Fire
Proof Building, formerly occupied by Dyson & Field and the
past season by us. The attention of both the partners will be
given to all business entrusted to their care. They respectful
lly solicit the patronage of the public generally. They are pre
pared to make liberal cash advances on all Cotton in store at
the customary rates.
FF” All orders for Groceries, Bagging and Rope will be fill
ed at the lowest market prices. JOHN M. FIELD,
aug9 ts A. B. ADAMS.
SASH AND WINDOW BLIND
Si LSA ‘OD.
rpHE subscriber is manufacturing the above articles by
j. Steam Machinery, at very moderate prices.
TURNING AND PLANING.
He has machinery for this business, and will promptly exe
cute any jobs in this line. ALEX. McGRRGOR.
july26 —bin
FIRE INSURANCE
BY THE
COMMERCIAL INSURANCE COMPANY
OF CHARLESTON S. C.
CAPITAL S2SO,OOO—ALL PAID IN.
Wit. ]). Heriot, Pres A. M. Lee. See y.
Directors :
James K. Robinson, Geo. A. Trenholm, Robert Caldwell,
A. R. Taft, Henry T. Street, Win. Mcßurney, f. H. Brawley,
T. L Wragg.
it IMIE subscribers having been appointed Agents for the
1 above Company, are now prepared to take risks against
Fire, on favorable terms. CARHART, BRO. & CO,
june2t Agents.
DRS. BANKS Ac ROOSEVELT tender their
professional services to the citizens of Macon and sur
. rounding country.
Residence on College Hill, the house formerly occupied by
Charles Day. Offiee on the corner of Third and Walnut slreet.
w. H. BANKS, M. D. (sfipt6-V) C. J. ROOSEVELT, M. D.
R. G. JEFFERSON A CO.
MANCrACTURER AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IN
CHAIRS,
West Side Broad St., first door above P. MLarins,
COLUMBUS, GA.
THEY keep on hand an excellent supply of Office, Wood
Seat, Split Bottom and Rocking Chairs; Bedsteads, Wood
en Ware, &c.
\u Orders left as above, will meet with prompt atten
tion. novl—tf
W. S. WILLIFORD,
COMMISSION MERCHANT AND AUCTIONEER,
Macon, Ga.
All kinds of Produce and Merchandise, (except liquors) re
ceived on consignment. sep27
S. & R. P. HALL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW ,
Macon, Ga.
OrncE 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. noI-2m TAYLOR 4t ROFF.
Dry Goods and Groceries,
THE subscriber offers for sale at his < Id stand on Cotton
Avenue, a general assortment of feta, le and Fancy Dry
Goods, consisting in part of the following articles: Cassimeres,
Broadcloths, Alapacas, DeLains, Calicoes and Homespuns,
Ready made Clothing and Jewelry.
Also a fine supply of Groceries, and almost every other ar
ticle suited to city and country customers. His goods are re
caived at short intervals, and may be relied upon as being both
fresh and fashionable, and are ofibred very low for Cash,
octll—6m GEO. EHRLICH.
YVriHAUESALE j) ry Goods, Groceries, Hardware &c.
\\ at low prices and reasonable terms or liberal discount
° r rash. (oct4) S. F. DICKINSON/
& PRINTING PRESS FOR SALE.
A GOOD second hand Imperial PRINTING
zY PRESS, in good order, will be sold a bar-
P ain ’ on immediate application at this Office.
It is large enough to work a paper of the size
of the “Georgia Citizen.”
MERCHANT TAILORING
ESTABLISHMENT.
THE subscriber respectfully informs his aumerous patrons
and the public generally, that he is now receiving at his
Store onCottcn Avenue, next doorabove Ur. Wm. G. Little's
Drug Store, a splendid assortment of French and English
BROAD-CLOTHS, Cassimeres and Vestings, embracing the
latest and most desirable styles of the season,such as Scotch,
Tartan Plaid, French and English plain,black, figured and fan
cy Doeskins, Velvets, Plush, Grenadine, London figured em
broidered Silks and Cassiinere Vestings, which he will sell by
the Pattern, or make to order, in the latest and best style, at a
reduction from former prices of at least ten per cent, for cash
in all cases.
sep27 THOS. F. NEWTON.
F.IXS, of fine, medium and common qualities, a large
supply at E. J .JOHNSONS’
2 ’
Ml Belden’s Late Style of Moleskin HATS.
Also, Genin’s Fall Styles, a good article.
sept 27 UEI.DEN & CO.
Fol>l>’s Digest.
THE above Digest of the Laws of Georgia, for sale at
aug‘23 BOA RDM AN’S.
Sign of the Big Boot 1
j . THE subscribers thank-
F II I fu! for past favors, and so
il ** I licitous for a continuance
■, of the same, would respect-
I fully inform their friends
public generally that they
have now in store, one of
the largest and best select
ed stock of BOOTS and
SHOES, mostly of their own manufacture, of all the various
kinds and qualities usually called for, to which they would
invite the attention of all those wishing to purchase, and we
assure all those that call that we a re prepared to sell as low as
any House in the city or State, all which is warranted as us
ual- oct 18 MIX Sc KIUTLAND.
GENTS’ Fine French Calf Boots, Welted and Pump
>o!es, also Gents’ Fine Double and Single Soled Boots,
ust received, and for sale by MIX & KIRTLAND.
RUBBERS —Those wishing a very superior article in
the Rubber line, are informed that we have in store a
large supply of L. Camlee Rubbers which are thought by com
petent judges, to excel any thing of the kind in the United
States, in style and fineness of finish, for sale low by
°ct!B .MIX & KIRTLAND.
iNotice.
THE proprietor oft he Crockery
Store, in this city, is induced, snle-
from interested motives, to give
-izjM notice to the public generally, that
after this day no goods will be sold
on a CREDIT. oct 18 CEO. JONES.
Piano Forte atid Organ Tuning:and Repairing;.
08. RICE would inform h's patrons, that Macon is to
. be his permanent home, all reports to the contrary not
withstanding. He has bought a house and lot in Vineville.
He is now ready to tune and repair Piano Fortes, Organs,
Seraphims, ADolian Attachments, and Melndians. Pianos
tuned in the city for $5, only for those who employ him regu
arly every year Pianos tuned by the year for $lO. All re
pairs extra. It is very hard for some to understand the diffe
rence between tuning and repairing. Tuning, is making the
string harmonize, by drawing them to certain tensions, with
a tuning key. All other operations, are repairing—such as
re-leathering the hammers,putting on new strings, putting on
new cloth on the dampers and key lied, putting in new jack
spring, re leathering the levers,&c„&c.
Mr. R. will examine instruments, and make known his
charge for putting them in order, if any desire it. Names
may be left at Messrs. Virgins, or Mr. S. B. Day’s. oct2s
GROCERY, PROVISION AND
rlllUT STORE.
ejjEjl THE subscriber feels thank- Z3E3E3
“.i-'Sj to his friends for past favors,
jf fl and would inform them that W*
Ek he still continues the Gro- IfewlllSb
cery, Provision and Fruit Business in front of the
angle of 2d St. and Cotton Avenue, Macon, Ga. On
hand, and constantly receiving New York Ilams,
Smoked Beef, Dried and Pickled Tongues, Mackerel
No 1.2 and 3, Pickled Beef, (Fulton Market) Pig
and Mess Pork, Sugar, Coffee, Molasses Syrup, Rice,
Tea, Potatoes, Onions, Raisins, Prunes, Dates, Nuts
of all kinds, Cheese, Crackers, Vinegar, Lamp-Oil,
Mustard, Lard, Butter, Flour, Soap. Candles, Candies,
Segars, Lillenthrals 11. Johns, Hurry of the West,
Four Aces, and Spencers best Chewing Tobacco, for
sale by (oct 8) J. S. GRAYBILL.
New Goods! New Goods!
WM. B. FERRY & CO.
DEALERS IN
Triangular Clock, (near Logan’sl!or.)
fARE now receiving their Fall and Win
ter Stock embracing all the most rich and
desirable Goods to be found in the market
North, which will be offered to the trade at
_ reduced prices. The citizens of Macon and
thes irrounding country are respectfully invited to call and ex
amine their Goods. sept 27
GROCERIES! (JOOCERJESn
CIARIIART, IIRO. & CO., now have in Store,
) and are and illv receiving a very large and selected stock of
GROCERIES of every description, which they will sell
on the best terms for CAS Hot approved names.and to which
they invite the attention of Merchants, Planters and Consu
mers.
They will at aF times be found at their Store, prepared to
give their personal attention toCustoiners.
f'lp’ No Drummers employed to annoy Merchant* and
Planters at the Ware-Houses and Hotels.
sept 6 ts CARHART BRO. & CO.
Likenesses!
I C. W. PARK ER has retumed’to
- *■■** \, ac on, and taken Rooms over Dr. Little’s
Drug Store, where he is prepared to take LIKEN ESSES in the
best style of the art, at low prices. octlß
JEW DAVID’S HEBREW PLASTER.
THE great remedy for Rheumatism, Gout, Pain in the Side
Hip, Back, Limbs and Joints ; Scrofula, King’s Evil, White
Swelling, Hard Tumors, Stiff Joints and all fixed pains whatev
er.
Where this Plaster is applied, Pain cannot exist. It has
been beneficial in cases of weakness, such as Pain and Weak
ness in the Stomach, Weak Limbs, Lameness, Affection O’ the
Spine, Female Weakness, tec. No female, subject to pain or
weakness in the back or sides, should be without it. Married
ladies, in delicate situations, find great relief from constantly
wearing the Plaster.
The application of the Plaster between the shoulders has been
found a certain remedy for Colds, Coughs, Phthisic, and Affec
tion of the Lungs in their primary stages. It destroys inflama
tion by perspiration.
The following commendation is from an agent residing at
Trenton, Tenn.:
Trenton, Gibson Cos. Tenn. Nov. 7, ’49.
Messrs. Scovil A Mead —Gentlemen : The Hebrew Plaster
is becoming popular in this section. There is a lady in this
county who says she would not be without the Plaster for five
hundred dollars a year. She was agjicted for some time with
an enlargement of the spleen, which gave her great pain. The
swelling and pain had extended up nearly to the armpit, and
occasionally she could hardly breathe. She was confined for
a considerable time, during which she was attended by some of
our best physicians, but they gave no relief. She procured a
box of the Hebrew Plaster, and it relieved her almost immediate
ly, and now she keeps a supply of it on hand constantly.—
These facts you are at liberty to use as you think proper—they
are substantially true. Respectfully, yours, kc n
JESSE J. WELLS.
Beware of Counterfeits and Base Imitations!
Caution.—The subscribers are the only general agents in the
Southern States for the sale of this truly valuable Plaster ; and
in order to prevent purchasers being imposed upon by a counter
feit article, sold in this city and elsewhere, for the genuine, they
invite particular attention to the following marks of the genu
ine :
1. The genuine is put up in smooth, engine-turned bottomed
boxes, soldered in.
2. The genuine has the engraved head of Jew David on the
directions around the box, with accompanying record of court
to E. Taylor, Rochester.
ALSO TAKE NOTICE
That the genuine has the signature of E, TAYLOR on the steel
plate engraved label, on the top of each box— to imitate which,
will be prosecuted as forgery.
The Counterfeit is coarsely put up, in imitation of the old
label, and is sold by several dealers in medicine in this city for
the genuine article. BEWARE OF IT—IT IS WORTHLESS.
SCOVIL Sc MEAD, 113 Chartres St, N. Orleans.
Only Agents for the Southern States, to whom all orders and ap
plication for agencies must invariably be addressed. Sold al
so by Payne & Nisbet, E. L. Strobecker and J. H. & W. J.
EUis, Macon, Ga. novi
“Mfptont in all tilings—Unttral in notjjing.”
MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 27, 1851.
The Modern Belle.
Extract from Mr. Stark's Poem, read at the late
Manchester , N. H. Fair.
The daughter site in the parlor,
And rocks in her easy chair
She’s clad in her silks and satins,
And jewels are in her hair—
She winks and giggles and simpers,
And simpers and giggles and winks.
And though she talks but a little,
’Tis vastly more than she thinks.
Her father goes clad in his russet,
And ragged and seedy at that—
Ilis coats are all out at the elbow,
He wears a most shock ing bad hat.
He’s hoarding and saving his shillings,
So carefully day by day,
While she, on her beaux and poodles,
Is throwing them all away.
She lies a-bed in the morning,
Till nearly the hour of noon ;
Then comes down snapping and snarling,
Because she was called so soon ;
Her hair is still in the papers,
Her cheeks still dabbled with paint,
Remains of her last night’s blushes,
Before she intended to faint.
She doats upon men unshaven,
And men with “the flowing hair,’’
She’s eloquent over moustaches,
They give such a foreign air.
She talks of Italian music,
And falls in love with the moon,
And tho’ but a mouse should meet her,
She sinks away in a swoon.
Her feet are so very little,
Her hands are so very white,
Her jewels are so very heavy,
And her head so very light;
Her color is made of cosmetics,
Though this she never will own,
Her body's made mostly of cotton,
Her heart is made wholly of stone.
She falls in love with a fellow,
Who swells with a foreign air,
He marries her for her money,
She marries him for his hair ;
One of the very best matches—
Both are well mated in life,
She’s got a fool for her husband,
He’s got a fool for his wife.
The Dangers of Flirtation.
‘The world would hardly be worth living in if
it were not for flirtations,’ exclaimed the gay
and thoughtless Isabel Lee, as she laughing
ly entered her aunt's room.
Her aunt, a sober, beautiful, middle-aged la
dy, raised her large eyes, with a sorrowful ex
pression, to the young girl's glowing face.
‘I hope you are not serious,’ she said.
‘There’s nothing like flirtations!’ cried the
merry Isabel. ‘But you look repreachful
angry ’
‘Gli, I am not angry,’ replied Mrs. Berford,
with a melancholy smile.
‘But you are not pleased ?’
‘Your words awaken recollections which
cause me to feel sad, Isabel; that is all. Sit
down here by my side, and you will hear a sto
ry of one of my flirtations which may change
your mind.’
Isabel sat down, looking thoughtful, and her
aunt continued :
‘When I was young like you, dear child, I
was quite as gay and thoughtless as yourself, I
was called a coquette, and, I shame to confess
it, glorified in the name, until the occurrence
of the painful events I am about to relate.—
Half-a-dozen times a year I used to visit C ,
and spend a week or two in the pleasant socie
ty of our friends in that place. There, I fre
quently met a pale, handsome, sensitive young
man, named Gilborne, who paid me flattering
attentions, making me the theme of numerous
poetic effusions, and with whose partiality I
was very well pleased. I was warned by many
well meaning friends against encouraging the
addresses of so impulsive a person as Gilborne,
who, they said, was more serious than I, and
who might end by falling more deeply in love
with me than I expected or desired. I laugh
ed at the idea, and finding the attentions of the
young poet still agreeable, continued to receive
them until it was too late.
‘Too late ! How so, aunt ?’
‘Why, to my astonishment he one dav made
a passionate declaration of love, and offered me
his hand!’
‘And you did not love him ?’
‘No, child. I was merely pleased with him.
But even then I did not suppose that his love
was more than the result of a sudden impulse,
which would pass away with my visit toC .
So I respectfully declined his offer, laughed at
the idea of my marrying at that age, and
begged him to dismiss the subject from his
mind. On the following day I left C and
returned home. Letters and poetry followed
me, breathing the most passionate devotion,
and burning with the eloquence of love. They
bore no name, but I knew they came from
Henry Hilborne; and I was beginning to be
much annoyed. I took counsel with my friends,
and resolved to send all future epistles back to
him unopened. I returned two letters in this
manner, and received no more; but three or
four weeks afterwards I received a newspapa
per, in which there was a sonnet addressed to
me under a fictitious name, and sgned with his
initials. He had discovered anew mode of
reaching me with his passionate effusions; and
from that time a sonnet or a song, signed by
‘H. G came to me in the G Gaxette
nearly every week. At this time Mr. Berford
was paying me bis addresses; he was one of
nature’s noblemen—frank, generous, firm in
what he considered right, and a gentleman in his
manners. Having learned a lesson from the
unhappy termination of my last flirtation, I
received Mr. Berford’s attentions in a different
manner from what I had been accumstomed to
do, and in a short time we were married. I loved
Mr. Berford —Gilborne was at the moment
quite forgotten, and I was perfectly happy. I
had not a thought to disturb my peace of mind
—the calm repose of my heart, which I had so
willingly, gladly given away—until, as we were
passing from the church, my eyes fell upon a
wild, haggard figure standing near the door. It
was Gilborne! His face was deathly pale, his
lips ashy, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural
brightness, and he trembled in every limb. I
started, uttered a suppressed cry, and, shud
dering, clung to my husband's arm. A pang
went through my heart—a pang of remorse and
dread, which I shall never forget. ‘What is
the matter Edward asked. 1 could not reply.
But he saw my eyes fixed upon the haggard
object in the doorway, and knew why I shud
dered for I had told him something of my un
fortunate flirtation. ‘ls that Gilborne ?’ he
asked. ‘Yes,’ I murmured. By this time all
eyes were fixed upon the wretched man. It
was not his pale face and wild eyes alone that
attracted attention ; his dress was disarranged,
his long dark hair fell in disordered locks about
his cheeks, and his garments were covered with
the dust of travel. But while all eyes were
fixed on him, his eyes were fixed on me alone ;
and in my alarm and confusion, I felt the blood
at first forsake my then burn in them
like fire. Gilborne fell back as we approached
the door, bowed solemnly, with his hand upon
his heart, while we parsed out. I was glad to
lose sight of him; and I ardently hoped that
his passion would now be cured. But this im
age, as he stood there in the doorway, haunted
my brain and it was many hours before I could
compose myself. I was beginning how
ever, to feel at ease again in the midst of
our wedding guests, when a domestic came to
me to say that a person wished to see me in the
hall. Thinking it was some invited friend who
had arrived at a late hour, I hastened to the
door alone. Imigine my consternation when I
saw the wild figure of Gilborne standing before
me ! ‘How do you do V he asked, addressing
me by mv maiden name. ‘Won t you skaue
hands with me?’ I gave him my hand. ‘You
tremble,’ said he, fixing his wild eyes upon my
face. ‘You are not afraid of me, I hope ?’ Oh,
no, I replied, in an agitated voice; for his
strange manner frightened me. ‘Why should
Ibe afraid ? Come in.’ ‘No, thank you ; you
have company, I see, and I may make one guest
too many. And you see lam not dressed for a
party,’ said he, glancing at his disordered at
tire. ‘Soyou will excuse me. Ha, ha! would’nt
I cut a pretty figure ? ‘But I cannot talk with
you here,’ said I. ‘Oh, I will not detain you a
minute! I have—ha, ha! I have a question
to ask which is really so absurd, when I think
of it, that I can’t help laughing ! They told me,’
he said in a pleasant, confidenti: 1 tone, ‘they
told me, ha, ha! think of the absurdity of the
thing; they told me that you were married!’
And he burst into a wild laugh. ‘I knew better,’
he continued ; ‘but they said it was so ; and to
satisfy them I determined to come and ask you;
for I suppose you ought to know, if anybody. —
\ou are not married ! 11a, ha, ha! I had such
a queer dream ! I thought I was standing in
the church door, and saw you coming out with
your husband; and you would not speak to
me. Wasn’ it queer? and I knew all the time
you would never marry anybody but me. —
But who is here to-night ? I never saw you
dressed so beautifully before ! Oh ?’ he ad
ded, striking his forehead, ‘I dreamed you were
dressed so at your wedding.’
‘Thus the wretched man went on, sometimes
laughing, and sheddiijftg tears. I knew he was
insane; 1 tried tostoYhim, but, was too much
frightened to speak. In my Agitation 1 took
hold of the hell wire and rang. A domestic
cante ; and I sent her in haste to Mr. Berford.
‘Berford! Who is he!’ cried Gilborne, grasp
ing my arm. ‘They told me that was the name
ot your husband ! Say—you are —you are not
married, are you?—‘Yes, Mr. Gilborne,’ 1 re
plied, trembling so that I could hardly speak.
‘I am married and here is my husband.’ To my
great relief, I saw Mr. Berford advance into
the hall. Gilborne started hack, and fixed his
eyes upon my husband with a wild and fierce
expression, which caused me to fear for him.
But Edward was undaunted. Returning Gil
borne’s gaze with a calm, steady, commanding
look, he advanced towards him, and demanded
what he wanted. The dangerous spirit of the ,
insane man was completely subdued. He hung
his head and burst into tears. ‘Nothing,’ he
murmured ;‘I want nothing now ! I have been
dreaming. I will not trouble you again. May
you be happy ?’ lie turned and staggered ,
out of the door; and I heard his unsteady foot
steps die away in the distance. ‘Poor wretch!’
muttered Edward, as he kindly took my hand;
‘he is to be pitied ! But you are agitated: I
hope,’ he added, in an anxious tone, ‘I hope you
have nothing to blame yourself for in this mat
ter !’ ‘I wish I had not!’ I exclaimed fervent
ly. ‘But oh, Edward, I feel that I have acted
wrong, although heaven knows I never intend
ed he should love me!’—‘Well, do not reproach
yourself too severely,’he replied, in a mournful
voice. ‘Let us go back to the parlor, and forget
what has taken place.’ We returned together,
and Edward’s presence alone sustained me for
the rest of the evening. Fear, pity, and re
morse made my heart taint and my cheek pale,
and I was wretched.’
•I think I understand your feelings,’said Isa
bel, who had listened with deep interest. ‘I
know how I should have felt under a conviction
that any thoughtlessness of mine had ruined a .
fellow being’s happiness—perhaps shattered
his intellect! But you heard from Gilborne
again ?
‘Listen. He disappeared. For more than a!
year he was absent, and no body knew what ,
had become of him. At last his friends heard
of a thin, haggard youth, who wandered about j
the country, begging his bread from door to |
door, and giving in return for charity the touch- j
ing songs which he sung in a soft, melancholy !
voice, and musical tones of an accordian he car- 1
t ied about with him, and which he played with
peculiar feeling and skill. Everbody treated I
him kindly, for although he was evidently of in- |
sane mind, there was a mildness, a melancholy !
enthusiasm about him which won all hearts. —
Search was made for him. His friends were not
mistaken in their snspicions. He was the wan
dering Gilborne!’
‘Oh, aunt!’ exclaimed Isabel, tears filling
her eyes.
‘They carried him back toC . For sev
eral weeks he seemed contented to remain at
home; but at length his disposition to wander
returned, and he disappeared again. One chil-1
ly rainy day, I was sitting alone in my room, 1
amusing myself with my first child, then a !
beautiful creature some six months old, when
there was a ring at the door. Our domestic
had gone out, and there being nobody in the
house but me, I left little Ella playing on the
floor and went to open the door. I started back
with an exclamation of alarm. Gilborne, drench
ed with the cold rain, wag standing on the steps.
My first impulse was of fear, and would havp
shut the the door in his face, had he not looked
up at me and said, in a melancholy voice, ‘lt
rains. May I come in ?’ I was touched. I
held the door open while lie entered. There
was a fire in the sitting room, and I made him
sit down before it to dry his clothes. For ten
minutes not a word was spoken by either of us;
but his wild eyes followed me about the room,
wherever I went. I trembled with indefinable
dread ; and oh ! how ardently I longed to hear
the footsteps of Edward in the hall. I tried to
speak to the wretched man, but for some rea
son I could not • and his eyes still followed me
in silence. At length to my dismay, I heard
Ella crying in the next room. Gilborne start
ed. ‘ls that your child ?’ he asked. I trem
bled as I replied that it was. Turning deadly
pale he started from his seat, and approached
the room whence the cry proceeded. Much as
I feared him, I caught his arm. The thought
that in a moment of frenzy he might do vio
lence to my child, made me desperate. ‘You
must not go there ?’ I said. I can hardly tell
what followed. I remember that his eye glared
upon me with a momentary blaze of maniac
passion—that he pushed me from hini—that a
dizzy sickness came over me, and that t fell up
on the floor. When I recovered my senses, I
saw him bending over my darling Ella, as she
lay on the rug, gaping up with baby won
der into his face. With a cry of terror I
sprang forward. But my fears vanished in an
instant. He raised his head. There was no
frenzy in his eyes ; but tears gushed from them
and rolling down his sallow cheeks, fell like
rain .upon the face of my child. He kissed her,
and rising from his knees, begged my pardon
in a soft melancholy voice, and in words so deli
cate and touching that I burst into tears. Be
fore I could speak he was gone.’
‘How singular!’ exclaimed Isabel.
‘Hear what is more singular still. From that
day Gilborne’s insanity disappeared. He is now
a minister in C .’
‘ls that the man ? the pious, benevolent,
mild preacher, whom every body loves so
well ?’
‘The same. lie turned to heaven the affec
tions which were thrown away upon my un
worthy self. I believe he is happy; but even
now, when I hear of thoughtless flirtations, I
am pained by the reflections they call up.’
‘But they seldom have such a melancholy
termination, dear aunt,’ timidly suggested Isa
bel.
‘True. Disappointments in love generally
leave sorrow in that heart without shattering
the brain. But there are beings of such fine
and sensitive natures, that the health of both
mind and body depends upon the soundness of
their affections.’
Isabel bowed her fine head to hide a blush
and tear; and from that day she was never
known to indulge in thoughtless flirtations.
The Elevation of Mechanics.
A cotemporary, in impressing upon mechanics the
importance of mental culture, justly remarks, that
“ Usefulness, respectability and competence are within
the reach of all, no matter what may be their pursuit,
if they follow it with perseverance and application,
while at the same time, their line of moral conduct is
exemplary, and they are dilligent to cultivate their
minds. Let your yonng men think of this. The
odds and ends of time, the leisure moments which are
too frequently frittered away in frivolous inaction, would
be immensely valuable if wisely employed in improve
ment and study. Diligence and application can re
deem many a moment, and appropriate it to beneficial
use, which frequently is spent with heedless prodigality,
or altogether misemployed. In this highly favored
land, where freedom of thought prevails and man is
at liberty lo follow any pursuit that promises to lead to
wealth or distinction, individual effort, if properly di
rected, will be invariably crowned with complete suc
cess.
For the development of talent and the reward of in
dustry and Mechanical skill, the laws and institutions
of our country are peculiarly favorable. There is no
thing in the condition or circumstances of the most
humble and obscure individual that necessarily, in them
selves, would exclude him from even the highest office
in the people’s gift, ana if proof of this might seem to
be wanting, the present distinguished occupant of the
Presidential Chair was himself the son of a hard
working farmer, and in early life apprenticed to a wool
comber, at which business he labored assiduously until
he was nineteen years of age.
Neither have similar examples been unfrequent—
hundreds of instances might be named confirming the
truth of the remarks. Washington, the illustrious
“ Father of his Country,” and of the most illustrious
names the world ever produced, when a youth was the
chain carrier of a land-surveyor. Franklin, the states
man, philosopher and diplomatist, was, as is well known,
a poor and friendless printer boy. Roger Sherman,
one of the committee who drafted the Declaration of
Independence, and one of its signers, was an humble
shoe-maker, and a self-taught man. Green, who in
after life rose to eminence, and stood second only to
the Chief of the revolution, was a blacksmith. Wirt
was an humble schoolmaster, and was afterwards ele
vated to numerous important stations, and left behind
him a brilliant reputation as an author, an orator, a
lawyer and a statesman. lion. Andrew Johnston, of
Tennessee, recently for six years Representative in Con
gress from that State, was an illiterate orphan boy, an
apprentice to a tailar, and at 21 years of age unable to
read or write. The late Gov. Wright of this State,
for years a distinguished Senator of the United States,
was, when a youth, a farmer’s boy. Gen. Houston, a
Senator, Governor, and present aspirant for the Presi
dential chair, was twenty-five years since, a common
house carpenter. Elihu Burritt, who can read nor
write more than fifty different languages, and is the
most and stinguished man of the age, was a common
blacksmith, and labored twelve hours a day at his anvil;
and Ex-Gov. Young, a brilliant and distinguished law
yer, a Representative in Congress, and the present As
sistant Treasurer of the United States, began life as a
country school master.
The above are but a few of the many distinguished
men of our country who have arisen to eminence
through their own exertions, and hundreds of others
in our own and other countries, might be added to the
list. Sir Richard Arkwright was the son of a poor
miller, and an apprentice to a barber, and by his own
industry and skill acquired a fortune of $35,000. Sir
Robert Peel, late prime Minister of Great Britain, and
one of the richest Commissioners of England was the
son of a weaver. Fergurson was one of the most dis
tinguished astronomers of Europe, and was a most re
markable instance of self education. At eight years
of age he was a simple shepherd boy, and his father a
common day laborer. Herschell, also so highly distin
guished as an astronomer, was in youth a drummer s
boy, to a marching regiment. One of the best editors
the Westminister Review could ever boast.and one of the
most brilliant writers of the passing hours, was a
cooper in Aberdeen. One of the editors of a Lon
don daily Journal, was a baker in Elgin ; perhaps the
best reporter on the London Times, was a weaver in
Edinburg, the editor of the Edinburg Witness, was a
stone mason. One of the ablest ministers in London,
was a blacksmith in Dundee : another was a watchma
ker in Bauff; the late Dr. Milne, of China, was a
herd boy in Rliynie ; the prinoipal of the London Mis
sionary Society’s College at Hong Kong, was a sadler
at Huntley ; and the present leading machinist of the
London and Birmington Railway, was, not many years
sinoe, a humble mechanic in Glasgow. These instan
ces might be repeated almost indefinitely, but it is un
necessary for our present purpose. In short, there is
no young man, particularly in this country, to whom
the gales of honor and learning are closed. Worth
and merit will always show themselves, and in a com
munity capable of discernment, will always be appre
ciated.
M e live under institutions happily adapted to foster
genius and confer proper distinction upon the worthy,
of whatever name or profession, and the pathway to
honorable distinction is open to all. Here no royal pa
tronage is required to reward the fortunate individual
who happens to make a decided “hit” in mechanism
or architecture. No man in this country is less worthy
the honors of Knighthood, because he has not designed
or constructed a ‘'Crystal Palace l” It required no
gift of earthly monarch to confer upon an American
citizen the title of “Sir 1” Here every m**n it a no
blcinan, and none more noble than the industrious and
intelligent mechanic. Here every mechanic is a free
American citizen, and all who “act well their part,” i
however humble their vocation, or obscure their origin,
may become noblemen in reality if not in name. Then
permit me to remark in closing. Let energy, perse
verance and spirit, be the motto of our mechanics,
“Excelsior” their rule, and firmly adhering to correct
and upright principles, they must and will succeed in
the attainment of the highest object of their pursuit.—
Farmer and Mechanic.
A Dollar a day and Foundi
A gentleman who resides in the vicinity of the city,
and whose early mornings are devoted to the culture
of a large garden which is attached to his house, find
ing himself somewhat behind in his horticultural de
partment last Spring accosted a healthy-looking Irish
man, who was passing his gate one morning, with the
inquiry if he would like a job?
‘Sure, sir, an its the same I’m looking afther,’ said
Paddy, in a rich brogue, which won the heart of him
by whom he was addressed, and who immediately re
plied.
‘What wages will you wish ?’
‘Why, sir,’ returned the son of Erin, ‘as I live a
good bit away from this, and my going home for males
will bother me day’s work while an extra mouth at
yer honor’s kitchen table is nothing at all, I'll just come
for a dollar a day, and ye’re to find ine.’
This was agreed to; and as Pat had his rent to pay
the next day, and wanted something for the cliilders,
the gentleman paid him four dollars on the spot, and
the work was to be commenced the next day. The
next day, however, and the next, and then the whole
four days passed by and Pat was never seen at the gar
den or the gate.
It might have been a month after the above occur
ranee took place when the parties metting by accident
in the street, Pat was accosted by his former employer
in an angry tone, with—
‘Well, sir, and why the devil did you not come to
work for me, according to your engagement ?’
‘Sure, sir,’ said the Irishman, with a respectful twich
at the rim of his well worn tile, ‘its tneself that was
ready to do my part of the bargain ; but yer honor is
at fault this time, anyhow.’
‘And pray how ?’ asked the other.
‘lts yourself that will not deny yer honor agreed to
give me a dollar a day and find me.’
‘And didn’t I give you a dollar a dty, and pay you
beforehand too ?’
‘True for you ; yer honor did that same, ye did give
me the dollar a day, but, ye didn’t find me.’
hind you, you scoundrel! I ransacked every
street in town ; but where the devil were you ?’
‘Shooting, at Muddy Pond Woods, your honor.’
The gentleman gave Pat a dollar, and told him to
call at the garden when he wanted work—but be sure
to hind himself.
CnrrespniipnrL
For the Georgia Citizen.
Things .are as they should be.
For we are on earth and not in Hearen, and
“ the powers that bs are ordained of God.'’
In the great system of nature, so wonderfully and
completely arrayed, admitting of no reproach nor im
provement from us feeble, insignificant mortals, for
whom all this beautiful creation was brought into be
ing. where do we find a perfect blending, a perfect
equality in any two extremes ? Then why, but in the
pe. verseness of sin, a perverseness which must yield
a harvest of forbidden fruits, will we endeavor to re
model one of these laws from on high, and in its stead
set up an arrangement of our own, by placing poverty
upon the same lofty pedestal with wealth ?
The rich and the poor are created with like qualities,
though in a variable ratio, with desires which should
be wholely regulated by our capacities, for if rightly
directed, they will, in some measure, enable us to
obtain that which we desire.
In the world there must be impulse to action, to ef
fort, and thus it is that we strive for the where-with to
live for a sufficiency, and when this is in full possession
how few are ready to say in sincerity of heart, “give
me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food con
venient for me, lest I be full and deny thee , and say
who is the Lord ? or lest I be poor and steal, and take
the name of my God in vain.’’ By a grasping propen
sity man is hurried on in search of an abundance, and
when he has this, he still murmurs, give me more and
and yet more that my way shall be too brilliant and
dazzling for poor humanity to dare approach me. The
first of these gradations is marked throughout by
struggles, contentions, and disappointments, each wail
ing to offer obeisance before the winning smile of for
tune. In the last, there is care too, but of a widely
different character, so opposed to the other that there
can be no congeniality between them.
The man who, for the most part of a long life has
been struggling to reach the top of the golden moun
tain, and on his way upward, has many times made a
misstep, and would have been precipitated to the bot
tom, had he not saved himself by falling on those be
hind him, and clasping tightly the briers and thorns
that so oft have retarded his progress, when arrived at
its height, perceives that the danger and difficulty is
over, and that they who behold him must raise their
eyes from below. Then his heart becomes inflated with
the foolishness of vanity, and the vice of ingratitude;
he shuns those but part way ascended, as the connect
ing link between him and all the pain he has past, and
scorns the extended hand as an undue tax upon his
kindness and the responsive smile as an unwarranta
ble impertinence.
He who is rich by inheritance, is free from the gros
ser materials gathered on this journey. This man
knows nothing of the soil on the heart, and the morti
fications in the flesh that are sorely borne, and here is
the analysis of that lenient toleration of the humble ,
which we so often observe in individuals of this class.
The recipients of an abundance have but few sym
pathies in Common with these of a bare sufficiency,
and wo usually find deeper rooted affections within the
dwellings of the poor, than in those of the fashionable
wealthy. Why then should the “Lilly’’ long to exchange
her quiet pleasant vale, though she ma\ live in a just
sense of unappreciated worth, for the hot-house of a
“golden home,’’ where she must droop and wither
from need of the balmy dews of feeling and the refresh-
ing shower# of sympathy ? Turn back a leaf j n the
lesson# of the past and read this in a dead tongue, vet
you will not believe until you hare seen it translated
on the pages of the future. It is unwise to situate <>ur
selves voluntarily in full sight of our desires when we
are yet unable, like the fabled Tanutlus, to reach the
enjoyment of them.
A fitting illustration of what l would prove, is the
conjunction of two wpantlo and dwtinol fruits. I'nite
i the small sour crab apple with the large and beautiful
pippin. To edict this phenomenon in nature, there
! must be n direct interruption in the laws of the vegeta-
I ble kingdom. The sour apple must |>ssess scene equali
ty with the sweet one, it must be vigorous and health
lul, and a limb must be )<>p|e<i from the pippin before
there is room far the crab, when it has sopplied the
I P lape f l he absent brauch, their fluids circulate fr. cly
and after a season on one and the same life
giving prinoiieU. The scion is now securely adapted,
still its position is plainly seen, and it is a dependent
upon the roots of the pippin for life, whilst the pippin
| may with little injury, readily dispense with the pre
sence of the engrafted crab apple.
So with the rich and the poor, there must be a graft
ing of interests, a mutual benefit ere there can bs a
free aud unconstrained intercourse.
As regards myself, had I the weakness, I might boast
! in m )’ f:lr ancestry of Lords, Earls and Marquises
from whom came a long descent of schoolmasters,
clerks, blacksmiths, cobblers, and tinkers, yet they were
an honest race, and this is the point I keep most in
view, for I do not feel myself one degree exalted by
my connection with the first, nor one shade degraded
by my later kindred with the last, for this truth often
rises in my mind, “ Tp have respect of persons is not
good, for a piece of bread that man will transgress.’’
I am of those whom the world will always have with
it, yet I am content to sing rqy simple songs of melody,
plaintive or joy, as the mood may be, in the shadow of
my native wood, nor seek to soar in the regions of the
sun. nor join in concert with the wild shrill notes of
the nightingale. ARMLNDA.
For the Georgia Citizen.
ABSURDITIES.— GLOVES.
“Small things take little minds.”—Rabelais.
i Reflecting, this morning, upon the nature of
I modern improvement, and upon the wisdom
of the past, I was forced to sad conclusion
that mankind, though wiser in great things
than formerly, are, in the minor concerns ot
life, as childish as ever. There seems to be
the same quantity of folly mingled in the ele
ments of the human pot; but the boiling and
j bbnblingof ages have mixed the ingredients so*
j thoroughly, that a cursory observation doe*
not distinguish the lurking alloy. The com
j mon run of our fashionable ladies, and the
generality of would-be “haul ton ’’exquisites,
whose “gorgeous vestments *• and polished
manners excite envy and admiration} in the
souls of less favored beholders, forcibly reining
us of the old verses :
“Thus one focj lolls his tongue out to another,
And shakes his empty noddle at his brother,”
bv the high-bred dignity and very gracious
air that marks them in public from the vulgar
herd.
The precise period of the introduction of
gloves into general use, cannot now be dis
tinctly ascertained ; but we infer that their
; origin must have been very ancient, from the
following remark of Rabbi’ ben Levi, in the
j Talmud : “My brethren, ye will know a soft
headed subject, by feeling a hand made soft
by the use of hand-shoes;” and the wise old
priest proceeds to inform his readers “ that
such an one being too wise to use the means
God has given, for the purpose God gave
them.” is a very proper person to “ trade with
to advantage .” And another of the same dis
tinguished authorities asserts that when the
Archangel Michael pitched Satan from the
skies, “he would not touch the miscreant but
with gloves;” which assertion, if true,
their use as rather ancient. Monsieur Cau>a
bon discovers several distinct notices of gloves. !
in various parts of Scripture ; and Homer
describes a Grecian Brummel putting them ou
to pluck a flower. But the earliest"historical
mention of the animal, is made bv Varro, in
describing a glutton eating with them, ‘‘that
he might devour the meat while hot,” and so
cheat the other guests of their fair allowance; I
a better reason, by the way, than the mr.detn
like one of old dame Perrine, who wore them
for the first time, after some fortunate specu
lation of her husband, in tallow, because “ poor
folks couldn’t.’’ Tu qtuoque.
Besides the more common use of gloves as
a covering,they were frequently used as sym
bols, upon various great occasions. The dignity
of Bishop was universally conferred by giving.
one , and Archiepiscopal investiture employed
a pair. One of the most solemn portions of
the coronation ceremony of France consists iu
blessing the gloves ; and a legend still floats
about in the South of France, that when the
unfortunate Louis XVI. suffered upon tha I
scaffold, he threw the glove he had received
with his kingdom, into the crowd around him,
one of whom accidentally sold it to Napoleon,
then a “sous lieutenant.”
The general mode of challenging, as late as
the reign of James 11., was bv throwing down
the glove; and if a knight was degraded from
his dignity, the glove, as well as his 6purs, were
taken from him. If the last rule Were applied
in these days, many would be without those
articles, who brazen out their inner rottenness
by these and other coverings and disguises.
Formerly, Judges were forbidden to wear
gloves, “ under pains and penalties,’’ as being
beneath their dignity; but it is now a regular i
custom in England to present the Bench with
a pair, from the hands of the Sheriff. When
ever the session concludes without any one
being capitally punished, this is called a
“ maiden assizeand if the power of our Leg
islature to “undo the hangman’s knot,” and
turn convicted felons upon the world, be coo- I
sidered, “our Georgia assizes’’ would live and
die old maids.
There is nothing about a woman, d’seon- j
nected from her soul, that bears so Idgh a price \
in market as a beautiful hand. It should be
small, without being a minim, plump, without
fatness, and tapering without coming to a
point. It should be white : but it mav be brown |
without .ugliness; and above all thing*, its |
sweetness must be the product of “ virgin ]
nature.” and not the hot-house offspring of 1
tight gloves, nor lily white powder. I funcy 1
that it may show signs of being or having been
useful , without derogation ; but then, °I am j
not a leader of the “ berm monde and so I j
leave the rest for some other time.
Roger de Coterit.
The ipan who had to lower his sbiri-epllat
to pass under the Wheeling Bridge, arrived in
Cincinnati, last week. He was labvuuig ujudei
a slight attack of collary.morbm .
NO. 39