Newspaper Page Text
A FAAittY NEWSPAPER,-DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, SCIENCE, ART, POLITICS & GENERAL INTELLIGENCE.
\ ()L. o.
terms of tite citizen. i
Dollars, per annum, in ad
vance. or Two Dollars and fifty
cents it‘not so paid. _
Advertising and dob cus
toniers allowed a discount of 10 per cent
on regular rates. .
‘vT’No siibscrij>tions received unless
acc*>mpanied with tho cash or a respon
sible reference.
Postage must he pre-paid.
* vMrt , s , 1.. F. W. ANDREWS,
mart? .Mii.-onjJ.a,
BOORJOB PRINTING
No. 13. Cotton Avenue.
lUrIV , received a haa l.mnic assortment of New Tyi*’ and
p in ry printing Material, we are prepared execstte all kmds o.
uliiiiiiDrmmtratnl printing.
jeoatcli.and in die best style of the Art, in Gold, Sil
ver anl Colored Inks, such as
utiouijAno PLACARDS,
LABELS, Jte* NOTICES,
BILL HEADS, 4SB3UPOSTERS,
DILLS iff LADING, COTTOX RECEIPTS,
’xIAiTInRJLI.3;
u syvga. *
AUCTION “ PROGRAMMES,
HI s i\ESS ( tllS, BILL TICKETS,
:;.U lldVhl “
“ BOOS W08.3*
e„s pat II? one of A. 1). Brows s Superior STAND*
IN ; ITiSSKS, all work hereafter done at tills Office will b I
(Hii.li.-d i'> ,lie t,est manner.
;l I ,;,tin? th* Cash Principle, the Proprietor will
h „ ,-,i„ n. do superior work at the lowest possible rate, and at
aii iri.-st notice.
• L J JLQLIMZ3I33IIIMO3EIXJ
Pruffssinmil K ‘Susinrss Cnrits
LANIER HOUSE,
m a con, <; A.
BY SCOTT & DIBBLE.
AI.SX. SCOTT. ■* D,E * IS - j
}-m S ~ lv
’ R. l. wooiT
D AGUERREOT YPIST, !
TsIACOrJ, GA.
jTTT KNTU-VNCIn FROM Tllli AVKNVK. JFlff
snrtO ts j
~ SAMUEL B. PALMER,
SECO N l) ST H KK T ,
M ‘.coN, c;k>Ut;i \.
?'/” The latest styWrorcivod weekly. novla—lf
JAMES A. KNIGHT,
li r 1 !. I) F. R AND c O V T R A C T O R ,
H IT WING provided competent workmen, i* prepared to ex- |
E a. acute every description of work in Ins line, *• short j
noti<*\ .and on reasmabW; term**.
Z'-J” sshop on Court House Square, Macon. jam^-iy
EAGLE HOTEL, -Oglelliorpe, Ga.
A SPLENDID brick addition having recently been
minade td this Hotel, the undersigned has now ample
mom ar.d superior facilities for the accommodation
*1 itke travelling puble: aud boar.lers. The House min t&e
most central -business pin <'OjrletlHHpe a.Ki every <*-*t will
ha made to give entire satisfaction to all who may cal upon
jb* proprietor declß-dm JAMBS BELL.
WILLIAMS, OLIVER AND BROWN,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
IU F.N V VISTA, MARION COUNTY, GA.
\ \T"1I.I. practice in th • counties of Marion, Macon. Ilous
\\ ton, .Stewart, Randolph. Muscogee, I.ee, and any ad
joining counties where their sen ices may be required.
WM. Y. WILLI VMS, Til AUDIT S OLIVER, J VCli BROWN,
jan 29 •>’
Warren A Warren,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
A CHANY, GA.
■ TTILL practice in the following comities: Sumpter, BaJ&er
Early, Thomas, la-e, Randolph, l*eeatur and lew lilies,
LOTT wakkls r. 0.
RABI N & WIIITEHtAI),
COMMISSI 0 X ME R CHANTS,
NO. 207 BAY STREET, SAVANNAH, GA.
J. XV. R • WHITfHICAD.
eeptlS — 6
S. A- R. P. HALL,
A TTORXEXS A T LA W,
Macon, G a •
<Orrici£ on Cotton Avenue, over Little's Drug Store, (octl
L. N. WHITTLE.
Attorney at Law,
jan3 M.ICOX, G.l. -ly
LAMAR & LOCHP.AKE,
Attorneys and Counsellors at Law.
ornrr over reldbs at coV. itat st-*k, mavos, oa.
TXriLL practice in the Superior Courts of the following
‘V counties: Bihh. Monroe, I'ike. Houston, Dsoly, Sum
ter, Craw ford, Macon, Jones and Twiggs, and in the Supreme
court at Macon, Decatur and Columbus.
All cases placed in our hands for collection will be punctual
-be attended to.
n o. Lamar, (feb 28) o. a. Lociißfsp.
I,AAV NOT I Cl?.
* I AiIE undersigned have aranciated themselves together in
1 tbe practice of Law. under the name and style of War*
Rica (c lli mi-hries, an l will attend ali the c unities a hereto
fore. ELI WARREN,
Perry, Jan.S2. 3t P. S. lirMPHRIK#.
ga ALL A CARY, ATTORNEY’S AT LAW. M vcon,
a9. Ga. Will practice in Hie counties of Bibb, Monroe, Up
ion, Bike and Spaulding. Ollice over Dr. Lillie’* Drugstore.
octlG —ly
DR. C. A. WILBUR,
[HJ © 050 <PI \P /A Y EKE ©Tg
OEFlCE—Concert Hall Building, over Payne &. Ni.bei's
lrug Store. dec 4-ly *
Medical Notice.
|IR. R. AIcGOLDRICK has retutne.l and il-
JLY resume the duties of his profession in the various bran
ches of Medicine, Surgery, Obstetrics, &c. He has removed
his office and dwelling to the corner of Walnut and Bridge
nov2o
c. h 7 freeman,
—MANUFACTURER OF
Candios, Cordials, Syrups, &c., &c,
Reneath the Ofire es the Geo. Citizen, Cotton Arenur, Marm i, Qti,
HAVING just returned from New Y'ork. with the latest
styles of ornauienting and embellishing p.YRTV AND
YVEDUING CAKE, is prepared to give satisfaction to ajl cus
tomers. He will personally attend to tte equiiwent of tables,
f'ther in town or country, at short notice and on reasonable
terms. octlft
Millim>ry and Fancy C*oo<t.
SMRS. DAMOUR is receiving by f
each steamer from New York, new
and fashionable Goods in her line-
She has on hand a full assortment of
’ ‘ v Bff* Goods, Silk Velvet and Straw Bonnets, of
f uu *Hies; Ribbons, Flowers. Laces, Gloves, Mantil
as and Cloaks, Shawls, Dress Trimmings of all kinds;
om )s > Jtevv Bracelets, and a general assortment of
articles that are generally Kept in that line.’
“et lb ,f 1 r
Bennet &. Clarke,
PROFESSORS OF MUSIC, (late of Boston, Mas*.)
respectfully announce to the citizens of Macon and vi
cinity, their intention to become permanent residents of this
city and will be happy to give instruction in every depart
ment of Vocal and Instrumental Musir, at the usual rates.
N. B.—Particular attention (mid to organizing and instruct
ing Choirs, Musical Societies and Brass Bands.
Refer to Geo. J. Webbe, Lowell Mason. Jonas Chickering
and Edward Kendall, Boston; A. Dodworth, 11. B. Dodwortli,
Geo. F. Root, Esq., Wm. Hall & Son, New Y'ork.
Subscription papers, stating terms, &.C., can be seen at
Messrs. Virgins, Wood’s Dagnerrenn Rooms and in the hands
of Mr. Ives, at (ieo. W. Price’s Store.
wm.bk.nnet. (dec2s-3ni) c. it. ci.akke.
GEORGE PAYNE,
DRUGGIST AND STATE LICENSED APOTHECARY,
g-. sdS OFFERS at wholesale and retail, a general stock of
tJS DRUtiS, MEDICINES. Cliemicals, Instruments, Paints,
®— * ‘■ >ils, Dyes, Perfumery, Brushes, Garden Seeds and olhar
articles usually kept in a Drugstore. An experience of twen
ty years in the Drug and Apothecary business, enables him to
sav to the public with confidence, that all Medicines and pre
scriptions sold hvhim. shall be genuine and pure, and x\ ill al
ways give satisfaction. jan22
Old Rags Wanted.
TIME Rock Island Factory will pay 4 cts per Hi. for Clean
. Cotton or Linen Rags, when delivered in quantities of
KID lbs or more,and 31 cents when delivered in smaller quan
tities. at their Store in Columbus, or at the Factory. Woolen
Worsted, Rope and Bagging, not wanted.
deald G. B. CURTIS, Sec’jr.
REMOVAL. —l)r. BENSON has removed to the cor
ner of Mulberry and 4th Sts., nearly opposite his former resi
deuce
I)r. ft. will continue to practice Medicine and Surgery in all
their departments both in the city and country. octfl
Macon Musical Institute,
AT TEMPERANCE HALL.
BENNETT & CLARKE would re-
U spectfully invite the attention of their friend* and tho
public to the unusual fwilities which they are enabled to af
ford those wishing to receive Musical instruction. They are
prepared to give lessons on the following instruments, to pu
pils at their residences : < irgan, Piano Forte, Guitar, Violin,
Flute, Cornet, Flageolet and Violincello. The rate of tuition
will be sls per quarter of three months, invariably in ad
vance. We are also prepared to instruct Brass Bands, Glee
Clubs,-Singing Classes and Musical Societies.
Having had ample experience during a series of years,
we pledge ourselves to give entire satisfaction to those who
may favor us with their natronage.
WILLIAM BENNET,
jan 29 lm CLAUDE 11. CLARKE.
THE POET'S CORNER.
Follow lour Leader.
THE STORY OF A LIFE.
riY CHARLES MACK AY.
‘Fulioic your leader So said Hope,
111 the joyous days when I was young.
O’er Rivadow path, up mountain slope,
Through fragrant * o.xls, 1 followed and sung ;
And aye in the suaey air she smiled.
Bright as the cherub ill Paphos born,
And aye my soul with a glance she wiled,
And tinged all earth with the hues of nt-arn.
Loti” she led me o'er hill and hollow,
Through rivers wide o’er mountains dun,
Till she soared at last too high to follow
And sitig- J her pinions in the sun.
‘FollotL your leader /’ So said Love,
Or a fairy sporting in his guise,
1 followed to lilt the challenging glove
Os uguy a maid with tell tale eyes.
I followed, aud dreamed of young delights,
Os passionate kisses, joyous pains
Os honied words in sleepless nights,
And amorous tear-drops thick as rains.
But, ah ! full soon the frenzy slackened ;
There came-a darkness and dimmed the ray,
The passion cooled, tbe sunshine blackened,
I lost the glory of my day.
L Follote your leader. 1 ’ So said Fame
In the calmer hours of my fruitful cnx-m.
OV.r briery paths, through forest, through flame,
By torrent, and swamp, and wild lagoou,
Ever die led me and ever I went,
\\ itii bleeding feet and sun-brown skin,
Eager ever and uueoutent,
A-s long as life had a prize to win,
But Dead Sea apples alone she gave mo
To recompense me for my pain,
And slid though her luting hand she waved me,
I may not follow her steps again.
‘Follow your leader F So said Gold,
Ere the brown of my locks gave place to grey,
l could not follow—her locks were cold •
Icy and brittle was the way.
As Gold spread forth her wiles in vain,
So taking Power to aid her spell.
l Folloic your leader F exclaimed the twain,
‘For where we go shall pleasure dwell.’
I followed, and followed, till age came creeping,
And silvered the hair on my aching head,
And I lamented in vigils weeping
A youth misspent and a prime misled.
‘’Foliole your leader F I hear a voice
Whispering to my soul this hour :
* Who follows my light shall forever rejoiee,
Nor crave the perishing arm of Power ;
Who follows my steps shall forever hold
A blessing purer than earthly Love,
Brighter than Fame, richer than Gold—
So follow my light and look above.’
’Tis late to turn, but refuse 1 may not,
My trustful eyes are heavenwards cast,
And ever the sweet voice says, ‘Delay not;
I'm thy first leader and thy last F
’Ti3 the friend of my youth come back again,—
Sobered and chastened —but lovelier far
Than when in those days of sun and rain
She slione in my path as a guiding star.
She led me then a wayward boy,
To things of Earth and never of Heaven,
But now- she whispers diviner joy,
Or errors blotted, of sins forgiven.
To a purpling sky she points her linger,
As westward wearily I plod,
And while l follow her steps, I linger
Calm as herself, in the faith of God.
From the Journal of Fotr.merce.
Messrs. Editors: —The following is submitted fop
publication. It is quite appropriate to our delving
habits, or to the old saw of ‘All work and no play
makes .lack a dull boy.’’ Y T ours, very respectfully,
New York, dan. 12,1853. A W orker.
Jonathan's Proposal for a Holiday.
Paraphrased from Lines in Tail's Magazine.
There was a little chap,
And within his jaunting cap,
Was hid, besides his brains, lots of wool, wool, wool;
A clever imp was he,
To which you’ll all agree,
When I tell you his name was Jonathan, in full, full,
[fall.
Now he was a very Turk,
At every kind of work j
lie never thought of rest, not he, he, he.
When the weary son was set,
Why he lit his gassy jet,
And worked and whistled still, like a bee, bee, bee.
But flesh and blood, alas,
Is not as tough as brass ;
Soon useless is the bow, always bent, bent, bent j
And oft’ when night came on,
Strength, spirits, all were gone.
In his dingy, dusty work shop, pent, pent, pent.
And when Sunday came again,
Tho church bell chimed in vain,
For Jonathan, over-worked, was—faint-faint—faint.
MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY VI 1853.
Pale, weary, aching, worn,
He slumbered all the morn,
To the horror and the pity of the saint, saint, saint.
Now the eloded snow did thasv,
And the crow with ceaseless caw,
From the greening tree looked down every noon, noon,
[noon.
And all things seemed to say
Silly fellow—come away ;
For you’ll work yourself to death very soon, soon, soon.
It ebanced one even-tide,
That lie ope’d his casement wide,
And lo 1 the Western sky was all gold, gold, gold.
The daisies starred the fields,
Like elfin silver shields ;
Among the gilded grass, all so cold, cold, cold.
The tools fell on the floor,
And across the fields and more,
Strode Jonathan with pleasure wrapt, ’ueath that sky,
[sky, sky ;
And the purpling hills grew black,
Ere he thought of turning back,
And the moon above the woods had risen high, high,
[high.
Thought Jonathan that night,
I’m but a silly wight,
To work, and toil, and slave ,as I have done, done,
[done.
A little spice of play,
Would be much the better way ;
In this everlasting work, there’s no fun, fun, fun.
We toil like very niggers,
Or California diggers;
Our days are all so short, we use the nights, night#,
[nights.
From our offices and shops.
We must garner double crops,
But the longest livers use shortest lights, lights, lights.
What a brave thing it would be
(Said Jonathan) unto mo,
A half holiday, or so, every week, week, week.
It would nerve us hand and heart,
To play life’s toilsome part,
And our little span, perchance, it might eke, eke, eke.
What a blessing and a boon,
Each Saturday at noon.
From my workshop and tny work to cut stick, stick,
[stick.
Then after Doctor Smirch,
And a homily at church,
I should labor all the week—like a brick, brick, brick !
rosea
mi s c 1 11 aH v.
From the X. U. Dutchman.
ADVEXTPRES OF AX ORFIIAY BOV.
A TALE OF LOVE AND POLITICS.
BY YOUNG.
Towards the latter part of the summer of
13-10, a iad of pro possessing appearance entered
the beautiful town of G , situated at the
foot of Seneca Lake, near the centre of this
State. He had traveled from the Western
part of Ohio, where his father, a widower, had
died, from one of -those malignant, levers so
common in newly settled countries, while over
seeing the cultivation of a large tract of land,
in order to regain a fortune lost during the
disastrous speculations of 1836.
Being an only son, and left among st rangers,
after the death of his father, George W ent worth
resolved to leave Ohio, anu remove to the state
of New York, for the purpose of trying his
fortune, in any manner that chance might
offer. lie had passed through the several
towns and villages on his route, without meet
ing anything to attract, his attention, till reach
ing G— —. This fine town, with its lovely
lake and pleasant scenery, struck his fancy ;
so he determined to obtain employment, if
possible, and make it his future home.
While walking along the principal street of
the place—a shady avenue overlooking the
lake, and on which are located several fine
churches and other public buildings—lie saw
a large crowd of people assembled around a
newly erected liberty pole, in front of one of
the principal hotels. On approaching the
spot, he found that it was a political meeting,
held for the purpose of raising the [Kile, and
making party speeches.
Our hero forced his way into the crowd just
as they were raising the ‘Stars and Stripes,’
with the names of their favorite pandidates, to
the top of the flag-stati'. The flag had scarcely
reached half way, the enthusiasm being at its
height, when the cord twisted and caught in
the little wheel at the top. They pulled and
tried every wav, but were unable to raise or
lower the flag a single inch. The excitement
and cheering ceased, and all eves were raised
to the half-masted flag. A portion of the
opposition party, who were grouped together
a little in the rear of the main body, began to
jeer and joke about the apparently bad omen,
to the evident discomfiture of their opponents.
At length Judge S , editor and publisher
of the G Journal, then a candidate for
Congress, offered fifty dollars to any person
who would climb the staff and draw the cord
through the wheel. The utmost silence
reigned for several minutes, hut uo one ad
vanced to make the daring trial.
•‘Will nobody volunteer, shouted the Judge,
strongly excited, as a peal of laughter u’ent up
from the ranks of the opposition.
Their chuckle had scarcely died away, how
ever, before George, with his cap and shoes
off, stepped before the Judge, and with a con
fident }ook exclaimed :
‘Vi'S, sir; I’ll climb it!’
‘You, my lad ; are you strong enough V
‘Oh, yes, sir; lam used to climbing.’
‘Then go ahead, my little Spa-tan,’ said the
Judge, at the same time giving him an encour
aging pat on the shoulder.
Steadily, hand over hand, his feet clutching
the pole in a manner that proved him to be an
expert climber, George made his way to the
very top off the staff, wJjRh was so slender that
it swayed to and fro with his weight. Nothing
daunted, he wouud his legs right and left
around the pole, and with his right hand un
twisted the cord. Shouting fearlessly to those
below to hoist away, he clung on till the flag
fairly reached the top, and then slowly de
scended.
The cheers that now rent the air were ter
rific—everybody, opposittQU and all, joining
in with one universal shout.
After the excitement had somewhat subsi
ded, Judge S looked upon the boy with
admiration, and look out his pocket-book to
pay the promised reward.
George noticed the action, and exclaimed :
‘Keep your money, sir; I want no pay for
helping to raise the American Flag.’
‘Nobly said, my little man ; what is your
name V inquired the Judge.
‘George Wentworth, sir. I am an orphan,
aud have just arrived here in search of employ
ment,’ replied our hero, his bright eyes glisten
ing with a tear.
‘Well, you shall live with me,’ exclaimed
the Judge; I’ll take care of you for the future.’
*******
Five years passed from the time George
Wentworth became a member of his benefac
tor’s family. In the meantime, Judge S
had been defeated by his political opponent,
and George had baen initiated into the myste
ries of the‘Art of Arts.’ He had become a
general favorite with tho citizens, and was
looked upon as the adopted son of the Judge.
It was even whispered in private circles that
he was to he the envied husband of the beau
’ tiful and accomplished Ida. the Judge's onlv
child. But this George had not dared to
dream of. ’Tis true he never felt so happy
as when in her presence, and it did make his
muscle twitch to see the foppish students from
the College swarm around the unacknowledged
idol of his heart. Poor youth ! had he known
the real state of Ida’s feelings, the thought
would li&ve aimed turned his brain ; and could
lie have interpreted the gleam of joy that
flashed from her eyes, whenever he uttered a
noble sentiment, or sally of wit, it would have
filled his soul with ocsLncy and delight.
One fine day in the latter part of June, Ida.
her father and George, were enjoying a sail
on the lake, in their trim little yacht, the ‘Swan,’
which had won ihe ‘cup’ at the last regatta,
under the management of our hero, who was
at present standing with his hand on the mast,
gazing at the beautiful scenery on the opposite
shore. The Judge held the tiller, and Ida was
leaning over the side of the boat, trailing her
pretty hand through the clear water of the
lake, when asudden gust of wind careened the
yacht, so that she lost her balance, and fell into
i the water. George heard the splash made by
Ida, and ,before the Judge could utter a crv.
: lie had kicked off his light summer shoes, ar.d
! plunged in toiler rescue. Being a skillful and
| vigorous swimmer, became up with the strug
: glinggirl before her clothes allowed her to sink.
, and entwining her waist with his left arm.
i struck out with his right, and kept her above
I water till the Judge turned the boat, and
I came to their relief. In a few moments they
were safely in the boat again, and Ida soon
i recovered from the effects of her unexpected
• bath. The old Judge embraced George, and
| exclaimed, with tears starting from his eyes:
‘God bless you, my dear boy, you have
I saved my daughter’s life ; how can I ever
; repay you V
‘By saving nothing about it,’ replied George;
‘I owe you a thousand fold more than I can
ever repay, and I am too happy in being
able to render even this slight service.’
The lovely Ida could say nothing—her heart
was overflowing ; but she gazed upon her
preserver with an expression that told volumes.
Her father observed her earnest,loving glance,
and began to guess the true state of affairs.
He was not prepared for it, and in silence
lurncd tlie boat toward the shore. They soon
reached home, with feelings far different from
those they had star.ed with.
The following laoming, George received a
notice to meet the udge in his library, llis
heart beat wildly—.vhat could it mean ? f
The Judge had determined to put him to a
severe test. As soon as George entered the
library, he commenced:
‘Since becoming an inmate of my family,
George, you have conducted yourself in an
honorable and worthy manner, performing
every duty cheerfully, and neglecting none.
You are now of age, and capable of doing
business for yourself. I have placed five thou
sand dollars in the bank, at your disposal ;
you can use this sum as you think proper, or
let it remain on interest, and take charge of
my office, under a salary of fifteen hundred
dollars a year. Tn either case, you must leave
my house for the present. What do you say
to my proposals V
George was completely bewildered, and
stammered forth a request to lie allowed a
few hours for consideration. This being
gianted, he retired to his room, and threw
himself on the bed, in a paroxysm of grief.
Could the Judge have guessed what he himself
had scarcely dared to hope. What right had
he to his benefactor's daughter and fortune ?
None ! He would smother his feelings, and
earn an honorable living, by his own exertions.
Various were tho rumors set afloat by the
scandal mongers of G , as to the cause
of young Wentworth’s leaving his patron’s
mansion, but their inuendos were unheeded.
George now devoted himself wholly to business
and study. His brow wore a more thoughful
expression, and Iris cheeks grew a shade paler.
The Judge acted towards him in a straightfor
ward, frank manner, yet never addressed him
in kind, fatherly tones, as had been his wont
before the incident that occurred on the lake.
If lie chanced to meet Ida in his walks, a
friendly glance and nod were all that passed;
still, he felt that his looks betrayed him, for
the warm blood gushed from his loving heart, j
and tinted his cheeks with the tell-tale blush ; j
and he cherished the pleasing thought that i
her look was beaming with love and hope.
A little more than a year passed from the
time George had left the home of those he
loved. It was the eve of another election
excitement ran high, and Judge S was
again a candidate for Congress. For several
weeks a series of ably written articles had
appeared in the Judge's paper. They were
addressed to all classes—farmers, mechanics,
and laborers. The original and vigorous style,,
clear and convincing arguments, deep and pro
found reasoning ot these articles, invariably
carried conviction to the parties to whom they
were addressed. All the newspapers of the
party in that Congressional District copied
them, and curiosity was on tip toe to discover,
their author, as they were simply signed by
two little ‘stars.’ ‘The election passed off. and
Judge S was elected, by a large major
ity-’
Late one night, while Ida and her father
were returning from a parly given in honor of
his election, they observed a light in the print
ing office. As the establishment was usually
closed at twilight, it appeared strange that, it
should be lit up at that hour; so the Judge
determined to learn the cause. Requesting
his daughter to accompany him, they ascend
ed the stairs, and entered the office quietly.
A sight met their gaze which caused the
heart of one of them to beat violently. At the
desk, a short distance from the door, sat
George, fast asleep, with his head resting on
his arm. As Ida’s father stepped forward
to awake the sleeper, lie observed several
political essays tying open on the desk, and a
freshly written article, with the mysterious
‘stars’ attached. The truth flashed upon the
Judge in a moment, lie was indebted to
George for his success ! He beckoned to Ida,
who came trembling to his side. Just then,
they saw bv the light of the flickering lamp,
a smile pass over the slumberer's face, and he
muttered the words ‘dear Ida,’in a tender tone.
‘Ob, father ‘.’exclaimed the loving girl, affec
tionately, throwing her arms around her pa
rent's neck, ‘do let George come home again.
Tt is surely no sin for him to love me !’
I Awakened by the sound of Ida's voice.
Geo rare looked around confused, and as lie
saw Ida and her father, endeavored to hide
the manuscript. But the Judge stopped him
by saying, laughingly:
‘lt won't do, young rascal; you are fairly
I caught—found out. Talk in your sleep, will
I ye— ha! ha! But come here, take Ida, and
be happy. I know she loves you! ha! ha! 1
George was bewildered and transported —
lie had been awakened from a pleasant dream
to a bright reality.
Matters were soon explained, and the warm
hearted Judge,after blessing them both, prom
ised to see them married before he started for
Washington.
Clark Mills and Phrenology.
The believers in the science of phrenology,
will, we think, have their faith strengthened
after perusing the following article, which we
extract from the Greenville Southern Patriot,
of the 27th ult:
The history of Clark Mills is a most extraor j
I dinary one. lie gave it to the senior editor of
the Patriot himself six or seven years ago. He
was at that time taking casts and executing ‘
busts in Columbia. We went to him to make
an engagement for ourself, and the next day he
called at our room in the hotel, prepared to
takea mould of our head and face and should
ers. Whilst performing this operation he ]
commenced his narative in regard to his own j
life and talents. He told us he was a good
house plasterer in Charleston, and did not !
know that he possessed any faculty whatevei !
for sculpture or taking likenesses. One morn
ing as lie was going to his work he passed by
a door where a Phrenologist had hung up hi
sign, with a notice that sceptics were not char
ged for the examination of their heads. This
induced him to go in and have, his bumps ex
amined. The Phrenologist said to him, 4 Yon
have the organ of sculpture in a very eminent
degree, and if you were to cultivate your talent
you would be a very distinguished artist."—
Mills replied to him, 4 You have confirmed me
in my scepticism. I never had any confidence
in your pretended science ; hut if I had, your !
j account of my own head would utterly destroy
it. I am, sir. a house plasterer, and know
nothing about sculpture, whatever.’ The
Phrenologist replied, 4 I don't care for that—
you have the organ in a most wonderful de
gree, and should cultivate your talent.’ Mr.
Mills said, the idea that lie possessed a rare and
valued talent which he was not conscious of,
haunted him night and day. But still he never
thought of trying his talent, for he did not
know how to begin.
One day he saw an Italian going through
the streets of Charleston, with a bust of Napo
leon in plaster, and lie asked him how it was
moulded. The Italian promised to show him
and did so. lie caught the idea instantly,
and was enraptured with it. First he com
menced a likeness in plaster of his father-in- j
law, who had very prominent features. It was !
the wonder of all who saw it. He then com
menced taking busts, as he doing when
we formed liis acquaintance. Next he chiseled
in beautiful marble a bust of Mr. Calhoun,
equal to any ever executed of that distinguish
ed statesman. Ills friends now declared their j
willingness to send him to Rome, where he
might study sculpture, and cultivate his ge
nius, For this purpose they provided him with j
funds, and as he was passing through Wa-di- j
ington he was there engaged to make the
Equestrian Statue of Jackson.
In his poverty and obscurity in Charleston,
whilst working at his trade of house plasterer,
he kept a bear and a dog, which he would make
fight for a fourpeuct*. Between this exhibition I
of !m dog and hear, and with the assistance
of his trowel, he made his living in a sort of
way, and would, in all probability, have died
in these humble pursuits, but for the Phrenol
ogist. Who can laugh at phrenology, after
this, as a humbug, and uot a science 1 Imme
diately after Governor McDuffie bad made his i
great speech in the Legislature in favor of giv
ing the election of Electors of President and i
Vice President to the people, some member as- !
sailed the South Carolina College as entailing j
on the State a very heavy expense to not much j
advantage. Judge Huger replied to the mem- j
her, and said that of the College had never pro- i
duced another graduate than Mr. McDuffie, j
the State of South Carolina would be amply
compensated by him alone for all that she had j
spent on that, Institution. So we say in regard j
to phrenology, that if this science had never ;
done anv other good to the world than that of
developing the genius of Clark Mills, it would ;
be enough to endear it to the world.
All the Difference in the World.
Wliat can have happened, thought Harry L ,
hurrying into the sit'ing-room, from which came re
peated hursts of merriment.
A silvery laugh was the only reply to his mental i
question, and his little wife shook her bright curls,
till they fell in charming confusion all over her shoul
ders.
Harry, as he looked at her, thought all the dimples J
in her face were crowded round her rosy lips; and her
blue eyes twinkled so funnily, half hidden in the folds j
of her white lids.
‘What is it ?—won't you t-11 mo, bub? 4 he contin- j
ued, as the mirth abated not a jot; hut the baby i
laughed and crowed, and clapped his chubby hands,
tis lie ran around the room, till at List Harry was
obliged to laugh in concert.
‘Oh, you should have soon her, Harry, it was so j
nice—one of the richest sights . and wiping the tears i
that her glee had cost her from her cheeks, she strove j
to look as demure as possible—and thus the cause of
her merriment.
‘You know, ilnrrv, when mir pet was five months
old, Miss Elliot used to come here quite frequently.’
‘Yes,’ was his reply ; 4 I don't like her very well,
bccaust well, I don't know as I can give any
other than a woman’s reason.’
‘I know—because she was so precise and formal.
You remember she was quiie old looking, though she
wasn’t very old ; and her hair had begun to turn —
but never mind the grey hair. It was a graver fault
in my eyes, that she didu t love cb'ldren I couldn t
forgive her that. She required so much attention
when she called (and I was often in the nursery), that j
I suspect she thohuki outsell slighted.
‘One day, when I had been uncommonly eloquent !
in praise of little Harry, curling his little flaxen ring
lets, anil showing those liny pearia of teeth, she aston- I
ished me by exclaiming, ‘Do you know how foolish !
vou make yourself, talking continually about that
baby I N>w, I’ve seen hundreds, and positively
couldn’t tell this one from the rest. I can’t imagine
what you think he is so uncommonly interesting for.’
‘She half laughed, but 1 was offended. I never
felt 60 hurt in my life, not on my own account, but
baby's. Just like any other I VVfey, Harry, did you
ever see such blue eyes, and such glorious dimples ;
and look at his furehead—l’m sure lie’ll be President,
yet. There! you are laughing at me now. 1 don’t
care, I know you think with me that be is the most
beautiful (lie b>-st, th : very h -i Lr>y that v\< r liv.
Ain’t you, drrlinir?’ site coi U.uu> J. as ill li io two
years old cam* toddling towards In-r, :u l threw up hi
arms for a caress.
‘Come, come,’ su'd Henry, smiling, ‘nhat has ail
this,'ode with your miith ?’
‘l'll tell you soon enough—ha ha ! Every time
I think of it, it makes me laugh again. ‘I i i’. do yon
know we parted quite coolly, 1 couldn't get over 1
her slight ot little llarry. She never called upon rn • !
again.
‘A friend met me this morning. and told me Mrs
Hall (Miss Elliot that wa-) was in t ova at the il
Hotel, with Iter husband and iittle daughter. Tha
moment I determined to call upon her, trusting to
the baby to settle all old diffDulties. I found liei
living in beautiful style. She seemed delighted to see
me, and had evidently forgotten our little estrange- j
incut, and insta ttly led me to the cradle.’
‘Oh, don’t wake tier.’ aaid l.
‘Yes. von nm-t see what a ii tie cherub she is when 1
her eves are open. Only think ! blaek eye* 1 and did
you ever in all your life see sueli beaut:fu.l, soft hair? J
Here, darling;’ and in another moment young Mss
Hall was lying half awake in her mother's arms. Oh 1
:it was so rich to hear Iter. ,There,* said she. ‘isn’t j
! that the preLtitst arm, white as wax ; and su<-h beau- j
tiful dimples 1 And the cunning, peachy lilt!*’ lingers ; ]
and as true as you live, she knows us all, just as well! j
And I want you to tell me, if she hasn’t got signs ot :
teet'a, and only two months old.’
‘She looked so funny, that dear good mother. ILr
i hair is a little grey, and her form is its prim as ever; |
j aud she has not lo.M the old fashioned pucker about
j the li|>s. I wish von could have seen ln-r.
‘Mrs. Hall,’ saij when she w.s about half way
i through her rhapsody, ff hutut forgotten it, loan tell
you,) ‘Mrs. Hall, do you know how foolish you make ;
yourself, talking continual!) about that baby i Now, |
1 have seen hundreds, and positively could not dislin- ,
j guish tins one from the rest. I can t tell what you
think she is so uncommonly interesting for.’
‘She stopped a moment, she did. and her face grew
red. Then all ;t once she burst into a loud laugh.
When she got through, she looked me right in the
fiice, for I was laughing too, and said she, ‘l remember
it perfectly; but the fact is, Mrs. L . this is my j
baby —and that makes all the difference in the world.’
‘I thought my triumph was complete —don’t you
think so, Harry? And from henceforth Mrs. Hall
and I are going to be oil the very best terms.
M. A. P.
Theatricals ia Old Times.
From Mr. Clapp’s ‘Record of the Boston Stage.’
we copy tbe following b>U for a performance ot ‘Oth- j
eilo ’ in old times :
Kixo's ARMS TAVERN NEWPORT RHODE ISLAND.
On Monday evening, June 10th, at the Public
Room of tbe above Inn, will be delivered
a series of
MORAL DIALOGUES,
111 Five Parts,
Depicting the evil effects of jealousy and other had
passions, and proving that happiness can only
spring from the pursuits of virtue.
Mr. Douglas —will represent a noble and magnan
imous Moore called Othello, who loves a young lady ;
named Desdenjoua, and after he has married her, j
harbors (as in too many cases) the dreadful passion of
jealousy.
Os jealousy, our being’s bane,
Mark the smill cause, and the most dreadful pain,
Mr. Allyn —will depict the character of a specious
villain, in the regim -nt of Othello, who is so base as
to hate his commander on mere suspicion, and to im- j
pose on his best friend. Os such characters it is to ‘
be feared, there are thousands in the world, and the j
one in question may present to qs a salutary warn
ing.
The man that wrongs his master and his friend,
What can he come to hut a shameful end }
Mr. 11 dam. —will delineate a young aud thought- ,
ful officer, who is traduced by Mr. Allyn, and gett ug ;
drunk, loses his situation in hist general's esteem.— j
All, young men whatsoever, lake example from Cas- 1
sio.
The ill effects of drinking wonld you see ?
Be warn'd, and fly from evil company.
Mr Morris —will represent an old gentleman, the
father of Dcsdenqona, who is not cruel or covetous, j
but foolish enough to dislike the noble Moore, his son
in-law, because his face is not white, forgetting that
we all spring from one ro >t. Such prejudices are very
numerous, and very wrong.
Fathers beware what sense anl love ye lack,
’Tis crime, not color, makes the being black.
Mr. Qaelch — will depict a fool, who wishes to be- \
cornea knave, and trusting to one, gets killed by him.
Such is the frendship of rogues—‘ake heed.
When fools would knaves become, how often you’ll
Perceive the knave not wiser than the fooL.
Mrs. Ma ris —will represent a young and virtuous
wile, who being wrongfully suspected, get* smothered
(in :m adjoining room) by her husband.
Reader attend; and e’er tbott goest hence
Let fall a tear to hapless innocence.
Mrs, Douglas —will be her faithful attendant, who
will hold out a good example to all servants, male and
female and to all people in subjection.
Obedience and gratitude j
Are things as rare as they are good.
Various other dialogues, too numerous to mention :
here, will be delivered at night, all adapted to the im
provement of the mind and manners. The wliole j
will be represented on Wednesday and Saturday.
Tickets six shillings each, to be had within. Com- .
meneement at 7, conclusion at half past ten. in order ;
that every spectator may go home at a sober hour, and i
reflect upon what fie has seen before he retires to rest. ,
God save the king,
And long may lie wny
East, north and south,
And fair America.
Reverie of a Votin? Lady.
How cold it seems; methinks; but my fire
burns brightly and the fight w<>.d blaze dances
merrily, and leaps up in the chimney, as if J
laughing to scorn ihe wild pranks ot old Eo'us.
Stiil I feel chilly. I wi 1 draw nearer the tire, 1
and write down my ttyoujrbts its they run.
Alas! I am quite alone. My parents are |
both absent, and tny brother and sis'er have |
retired. Heigho. I wish I ha! > 1 aver ! i his
is such a chartr, it)g evening for him to whisper
in loving tones of love. We Would have no
lifrht but that front the glowing fire-place ! and
j there would be no one to disturb us. Oh ! it
; would be so nice to have a lover ! ()b, deal I j
was nineteen yesterday, and have had no offer ;
I yet! What is to become of me ? Vh. I know !
j Harry Leonard is not married yet, and I in
i tend to keep myself for him, Bapa says lam
too young to marry. Too young to marry ;
Indeed he must forget how ol I I am. Bui Har
i r <- w iU come back some tiir,e, and he is worth
1 waiting for. He used to d>ib himself my cham
pion in all our little school diffieiri ies, and I
love him yet. I can -tee him now, gazing on
me with iris dark, earnest eves. Ah. he is a
noble fellow ! I wish he would come back.
I He never said in words he loved me, but l could
| see that he did !
********
Now. with the dim fire-light fli kering on
j <>ur faoes. H urry is Lv my side. We have pc
| K. o long of the old tunes when we were but
children!
Ilsurv i> gating upon me! And. now in
! -oft I>w tone-. In* telL me of his lov** nnd his
O; •s. and bow fie feared, da ing that weary
absence, that when he returned he wtvvkl find,
jme the happv bride o ■ another. And t en
how lie r-j iic and to hea tli it I was -till n ina ‘*
rich. And now, (oh. how I tr.-m J■) he a-ks
eif 1 will be his wife! H:s wife? Hov
i happv this word makes me! Bat I cr.niiot
(speak I p! ice my hand silently in hi>—**ani
he needs no other answer. He tha a
gain and again; and in strange, ti tft ilfcon Ver
sa tion, we pass the time away. Now he is
! gone. He went with a whbperingpbsuianc®
that In* would be here to-uiorrow. v
And to-morrow comes. Harry is here early
to See my father. And now it is over—papa
has blessed me, and calls me his dear, gool
died’ and mama's tears are mingling ones of
joy and sorrow,.
Weeks pass—and Harry and arc liv
ing in our own house. He is caressing me as
usual; I begin to believe that I am already mar
ried and have a husband, whom I am tot'love,
honor, and obey,’ And —but what is this I
l run alone in the dark! Where is Harry |
Pshaw? All this was but a dream. How
provoking ! At any rate, if cue cannot have a
reality, it is very pleasant to dieam. Don't
vou think so? —City Item.
A Quirk Card Table, — A subscriber in
Pennsylvania sends U3 the following, for which
he vouches:
‘Some years since, business calling me to
New Orleans, I found myself one evening steam
ing it down the Mississippi. The night was
raw and unpleasant; and not having much
else to do, most of the passengers betook them
selves to card-playing. The boat being much
crowded, all the tables, <fcc., were soon seised
upon; and although everything available wa*
finally pressed into service, quite a number
were obliged to wait for others to become tired
One party, however, I observed, who seemed
determined to find a place somewhere.
Their attention was at length attracted to the
plethoric form of apparently a Methodist preach
er, who, extended upon several chairs, was peace-.,
tally slumbering. Quietly drawing up r.. .tool
on either side of him, they went tower!:. The
[ game was single-handed euchre, and as the
points were scored with chalk upon the sleep
j or’s coat, it soon presented a curiously variega
ted appearance. —Notwithstanding the game
was by no means quietly conducted, the old
gentlemen slept calmly on, until one of the
players, becoming excited in,some dispute which
had arisen about the game, and forgetting the
vitality of the card table, in adding emphasis to
a proposition he was laying clown, brought
down his clenched first with considerable force
immediately upon the old gentleman's “toinaeh.
A rumbling cavernous sound followed, and the
startled sleeper slowly assumed an upright po
sition, violently struggling the while to recover
the modicum of air so,suddenly expelled. Al
most choking with laughter, I awaited the de
nouement of the scene. Slowly surveying
first one player and then the other, and then
careful’v scrutinizing his hierogJyphieally a-,
domed coat, he at lenglit very cooty said, much
to the disappointment of us all, who were wait
ing for some violent outbreak : ‘Gentlemen, if
you have got through with this coat, 1 have
got another under it that is perfectly at, your
disposal. Be so kind, however, as to be a lit
tle careful of your gestures!' — Knickerbocker.
“Docs Isaac manifest any taste for poetry,
Mrs. Partington f asked the schoolmaster’s
wife, while conversing on the merits of the
youthful Partington. The old lady was bast
ing a chicken which her friends had sent her
from the country.
“0, yes,” said the old lady, smiling; “he is,
very partially fond of poultry, and it always
seems as if he can’t get enough of it.”
The old spit turned by the lire place in re
sponse to her answer, while the casting was
going on.
“ I mean,” said the lady, “ does he show any
of the divine afflatus?"’ The old lady thought
a moment. “As for divine flatness—l don’t
know about it- He’s had all the complaints of
children, and when he was a baby he fell and
broke the cartridge of his nose, but I hardly
think lie’s had this you speak off.”
The roasting chicken hissed and spurted, and
Mrs. Partington basted it again. —Carjxl Bag.
X Touching Sketch.
“ Axd She was a \Vmow.” —A pale and
pensive lady has just passed — she is clad in the
44 weeds of profoundest woe” — doubtless she is
a widow.
A moment to imagine her history. He
whom she mourns has woed her in her girl
hood. There is a fragrant nook, where a riv
ulet gurgles, which she never remembers save
with tears wherein love’s best drama was per
formed by their fervid lips. They were wed at
last! Months, perhaps years, departed—and
then the shadow fell! lie blessed her amid tits
marches of the night, and in the morning went
out with the stars. The earth is laden with
such histories!
She was blithe and merry once. Site loved
the custom of society, and adhered with a sort.
|of piety to the maxims of fashion. Gay and
happy was the world in which she dwelt. But
| it is changed now.
It is a mournful thing to carry a dead heart
! in a living bosom. It is a bitter tiling for a
I lip used to dainties to feed on ashes. It is a
• fearful thing for the living to know that their
1 only treasure is hid in the still and mouldy
I grave—beautiful life linked to corrosive corrup
i tion.
Her desires are written upon her meek face.
, Its expression translates her muttered yearn
j ings. She longs to join, in the distant andbet
i ter country, him who has gone before,
i The welcome hour is nearer than she thinks.
; They shall soon lay her be-iJe her buried idol.
How lovely will be that dying smile, when the
I prayerful lips shall close at the touch of death’s
| cold finger. God grant that the drooping lily
j of earth may become a fadeless amaranth in
i heaven. —Buffalo Express.
How to Keep Poor. —Bay two glasses of
gin every dav, five cents each amounting in one
}Var to §36.50; smoke three peg&rs. one after
i each tribal, counting up in the course of the
i year to 554 95 ; keep a b’gdog, which will eon
i sume in a Year at least j$ J 5 worth of provision,
| an.l a cat $5 more. Altogether amounts to
the snug little sum of SI 10.25 —sufficient to
boy six barrels of flour, one hundred ! u-bcD
i of coat one barrel of sugar, one sack of coffee.,
| a go >d coat, a respectable drees, besides a frock
j for the baby, and a half a dozen pair of shoes g;
rooro or less. Just think of it’
j - RTF’
NO. 44-