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. il’t 1 ’ T nrtmT J WllplTWOl’ ‘ ‘"l'll'liiU i ~ ‘ ■ . ————^^
VOL. 8.
FitisiMi m mm cahbs
DB. H. A. METTAUEB,
TI spent * portion offeree saccwslre years In
AU, city, during which time ho hals limited hit
mg couatry, in all the branches of his profession. Office
on the South East Corner ofSrt and Cherry streets, over
Mr. Asher Ayrea’ new Grocery Store.
aep27—tf
LANIER & ANDERSON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
A\D Bomr Lt\D VXD PEVSIO* AGEVTS J
MACON, GA.
Basinrd the regular business of their Profession they
have f-.r years past been engaged in prosecuting claims
for Bounty Land and Pension, in favor of soldiers, their
widows and minor children.
They have also obtained the correct forms and the
rules for obtaining Bounties under the Act of Congress
just passed.
febM -ts
0. Bj_BICE,
TUNER ANO dm REPAIRER
Os PIANO FORTES,
IB Permanently located in Macon. antes may
be left at Messrs. Virgin’s and at E. J. Johnston k 00.
nov3—tf
BHOWN’S^HOTEI,
Opposite the Passenger Depot,
• -j- -m. •
E. E. BROWN, Proprietor,
ur- Meals ready on the arrival of every Train.
aprl9—tf
L. N. WHITTLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
MAOON, GA.
OFFICE next to Concert Hall, over Payne’s Drug Store.
jantO—ly
Andrew Wind,
American, Canadian A European
Advertising and Subscription
OFFICE.
\o. 133 \ A.MS il STREET,
(Next door to the Nassau Bank,)
(VP STAIRS,) NEW YORK.
novl-tf
J. R. DAVIS,
Land Broker, Collector &. General Agr't.
Business attended to in any county in this State.
Office corner Jackson and Ellis Street, Augusta, Ga.
nvvl —ts
D. Campbei.:.. j. w . qaot
CAMPBELL & GAUT^
OMUMRAL
PRODUCE AGENTS,
FOB THI
PURCHASE. SALE, AND SHIPMENT
OF ALL KIXDB OF
SAPT TBNNBO9EB PHODUOE,
Buch as Bacon, Lard,Butter, Flour, Wheat,Corn,
Oats, Fruit, etc. eto.
KNOXVILLE, TENN.
(Warehouse —Atthe River.)
_ janl*—ly
08. B. H. NISBET,
OFFICE OVER WINSHirS CLOTHING STORE,
Comer of Cotton Avenue and Cherry Street.
oct l—dm .
Land Agency.
THE subscribers are prepared to make locations
Land in all of the Nerth-western State*—lowa,
Minnesota, Wisconsin and the Territorle# of Nebraska
and Kansas, and solicit consignments of fuadt or war
rants. For terms apply to JNO. H. LONGLET,
Macon, Ga.
JNO. B. DWlNNELL,Lodi,Wisconsin
aprlT d-ts
Anderson & Son,
Lottery and Exchange Office,
Macon, G-a.
HAM.NQ p’irchtsed the Interest of J. F. WINTER, in tt.e
above business, we ask a continuance of patronage so lib
eiaily eWcndad to him. Exchange for sale on all the prindpa
Cities of the Union.
|fl’ ncurrent money bought anil sold.
|3e Gold for sale,
aprlid—6m
LOCHRANE & LAMAR,
-Attorneys art 3Daw,
MACON, GA.
Office by the Mechanic’s Bank.
OFFICE HOCKS from S to IS A. M.. S too P. M. and also
from 7 to 10 P. M. ■
Will practice in all the Counties of the Macon Circuit and in
the Counties of Jones, Monroe and Columbia, and in the Su
preme Court.
O. A. LOCURANE. JOHN LAMAR.
fan I—ly. -
BLiJSH H. CABMXBT. AAHOB A. AOTf
CARHART & ROFF,
WHOLESALE GROCERS.
DEALERS IN
4n\ES, LiqrOES,^^^TOBACCO,SECiSS,
AND
GROCERIES
■ OF EVERY DESCRIPTION.
Macon. 6a.
V- aufr4—tf
SPEER & HUNTER,
■ ATTORNEYS a T 1, A W j
Macon, Ga.,
Tlffite on Triangular Block, Comer of Cherrj
Street and Cottou Ateune.
e hare associated as partners In the practice t f “Law in
V the counties ot the Macon and adjolulnjt Citcuits, and
in the State tiy s;>oclal eotitrict—also, will attend
she Federal Courts at Sat annah and Marietta.
ALEX. M. SPEER.
l*--ly SAMUEL HI’MEK.
[DENTISTRY.
Take Care of Your Teeth.
Rr>. Seger A Blaisdeil. Dentists.
X'V FFICE in Washington Block opposite the Lai.ier House,
a “ up the same stain with and next to Wood's Dagucrrean
Beoms. We perform ali operations on the Teeth in the beet
jHs ne:. we give special attention to Inserting Artificial Teeth.
.•Jr and we guarantee m all cases apertV-ct fit. as well as usefulness
3pc t! wearer, in Ma.- lieulation, Articulation, Beauty and Du
Ba
or. Bl.tisdallhas had much experience in this deparaient of
r fees’ .ii. as well as the filfing and preserving ( for Uf*)
jjp.- natural Teeth.
H, S3*~ All operations warranted aud charges* reasonable.
GIVE US A CALL.
■ K 11. SEfiEK, A. BLAISDELL, M. D.
:V i_tr
E. WINSHiP.
■X6 offering his entire stock of Cotlling
U. and Gent’s FuruisAilzie
G-oods, at Oost
|A'Or CASH. He wishes to c’ose oat
Bio make ?oom for his new Spring Stock.
■ feb. S.-ts
t PUGH’S
iPhotograh and Fine Art
[GALLERY!
■RIiNGULAR BLOCK MACON GA.
To*;RAI*IIS of all y.zes takeu a* well from Dtugitr*
reot ypes. >f -leceosed T**r* juiaAfroni life* and coloured true
JSin* kf-° n€ the ARHS in the country,
A Mlßt V?XVEB at gß&rijr reduced prices Only one Ikl
r a Picture In a neat case, at this
at the Old Stand and see ihe improvement nce
ioiilitlencc al Credit.
The day tvas <iirk, the markets dull.;
Tl r’ *. oo uiu.‘ g.’mMod wui e i *4 1 1 ;
And haft the {own was breaking:
The countersign of cash was “Stop,”
Bankers and Bankrupts .4nit up shop,-
And honest hearts were aching.
When near the ’Change, ray fancy spied
A faded form, with hasty stride,
Beneath grief’s burthen stopping ;
Her name Was Credit, and she said
Her father, Trale M dead,
Her mother, Comnoc rce. drooping.
The smile that i*he was wont to wear
Was withered by the hand of care.
Her eyes had lost their luatro *
Her character was gone, she *>aid,
for hasely she had bc.-;: betrayed,
And nobdSy would trust her.
That honest industry had tried
To gain fair credit for his bride,
And found the lady willing;
But ah 1 a fortune hunter came,
And Speculation was his name,
A rake, not worth a shilling.
The villain was on mischief bent.
He gained both dad and mam’s consent;
And then poor Credit smarted.
He filched her fortune and her fame,
Ho fixed a blot upon her name,
And left her broken hearted.
W ltile thus poor credit seemed to sigh,
Her cousin, Confidence, came by,
(Methinks he must be clever):
For when lie whispered in her ear,
She cheeked the sigh, she dried the tear,
And smiled as sweet ns ever.
[From the Journal of Commerce.]
Hope On.
lit PEART. FISHER,
Should fortune take
Her w ings of gold.
And with her flight
Our friends grow cold:
Though frosts may blast
Each opening flow erf
And Death’s dark pall
Above us lower,—
Hope ou.
Where’er our hearts
X W il'On
And earthly jog}
From us have flown;
If those we love.
And call our own,
Unfaithful prove
’Neath fortune’s frown,
Hope on.
If o’er life’s sea
Our bark be driven,
And though its form
Be tempest riven;
Should sorrow’s waves
Above us roll.
Still, let no fear
Assail the soul, —
Hope on.
So. when our toils
And cares are o’er,
If courage tail
’Neath Death's dread power,
Still, let our lrewtlsr—
Though gathering gloom * 4 *
May then surround
The darksome tomb, —
Hope or. . w .— .0
THE AUTHOR’S STRATAGEM.
TRANSLATED FROU THE FRENCH.
It is eight o’clock in the evening.—
Three persons are assembled in the par
lor ot a house in the Faubourg St. Denis
—two gentlemen, one advanced in life,
the other still in its morning, and a young
girl. They were all seated around a
branch candlestick, placedon a table,
which had been drawn near a small fire
sparkling and bl ight. A silence of some
moments had succeeded a moderately an
imated conversation. The elder gentle
man slowly pnff'd a choice cigar, as, if to
gain time for reflection: the younger
seemed to await with anxiety the answer
to a question, though as if afraid to has
ten it; the young girl, her head bent
over her sewing, appeared to be busily
at work, but in reality was striving to
hide the blushes which sulFused her
cheeks, ascending even to the forehead.
At last. M. Bellissent —for so was the
old man named —decided to speak, after
adopting a manner which neither com
pletely authorized or excluded all hope.
My dear Raymond,’ said he, address
ing the young man, ‘1 appreciate the frank
ness of your confession ; 1 will tell you,
w ith no less frankness, 1 expected it.—
You can very well believe, that for the
last year I have not taken the honor of
your attentions fc> myself.
At these words, a slight smile of con
sciousness dwelt for a moment on the
lips of the young girl.
‘ Then you grant my request f cried !
the young man, with a joyful movement ,
a little too premature.
‘ Allow me —1 did not say a word of
that—please do not go on so fast. That ,
you are excited and eloquent in asking
the hand of my daughter, I can well be- j
lieve; my Agatha is pretty enough to j
justify yuui eagerness; bat, it you are
so enthusiastic, it is my place to reason
with cabnness and coolness.’
The face of the young man over
shadowed : ,
‘ You are a brave and honorable young
man. 1 have studied your behaviur aud
character. You possess, and lam glad
MACOJf, GA. FEIBRUAny 26, 1853.
tq.be able to acknowledge it, all the qual
ities 1 would desire to sec in my Buß-im
: Teci.ijg aco nut .-ulii.-icnt
to provide for.a, household. VV ilhout
requiring an enormous fouune, I think.
•*■** . ucueve i hiii rgnt, that a rnoJemto
competency is the tirst Mid most essen
tial condition of a firm and lasting hap
piness. Unfortunately, you have neith
er an inheritance, nor an income, and the
profession you have adopted— 1
‘ f know all you are going to say/ in-
terrupted Raymond, sadly ; ‘you need
not take the trouble of finishing. lam
delighted to have as the disposer of my
late a man ot enlightened mind , but pre
judice is too often deeply rooted, too
general in its influence not to control in
a slight degree the judgment of even the
; highest order of men. It would be ab
surd for me to try to conquer it; I re-*
sign myself as its victim.’
■ ou are mistaken in the meaning of
my objection. I have not the least pre
tension to believe myself inaccessible to
prejudice ; but in this ease, I can assure
you, 1 am not influenced by any feeling
| of such a nature.’
‘ Nevertheless, you do not hesitate to
reproach me for having adopted literature
as a profession,’ replied Raymond, with
bitterness. I
* It ie true.’
1 And that is because, for centuries, lit
erature and/nisery have been considered
1 inseparable !’
‘ That is exactly where y ou are wrong.
No my young friend, I am not absurd
enough to believe that garrets have been
built expressly for poets, or hospitals for
dramatic writers. If there are people to
be found now-a-days who still hold to
this opinion, they mnst hold to a very,
strange mistake. At any rate, lam not
of the number. T even confess that,
without having any ambitious hopes to
carry me too far, simple comedy wri
ters would satisfy all my paternal solici
r..4~ 5
‘ The truth is,’ said the youug man,
looking at M. Bellissent with an air of
profound astonishment,’ I do not under
stand the grounds of your objection.’
‘I am going to explain them. I think
Raymond, that you are not wanting in
education or talents ’
* You are too kind ’
‘ A truce to modesty. Ido not flatter
you ; I merely tell you my real opinion.
I believe that, in connection with talent
you possess everything to enable you to
succeed. You have good taste, and write
very well. Your style is graceful, and
you please the upper class of good soci
ety. You are neither cold nor selfish ;;
you know r how to speak the language of
the heart, and it is that which attracts,
moves, aud enchains the multitude.’
‘Then you believe iu my suecesswith
the public V
‘1 do not doubt it. But you must-first
get before this public. That is the diffi
culty—perhaps an impossible one for
you!’
‘ And why, M. Bellissent V
‘ Because, between you, capable of
writing a good work, aud the public, 1
who are able to appreciate it, there exist
intermediary persons whose good will
and sympathy it is necessary to gain.’
‘ You speak of the mauagers of a the
atre r
‘ Exactly so, if you arc going to write
plays. If you were writing books, I
would speak of publishers, though that
does not change the point of my argu
ment.’
• But, if 1 have talent, 1 must necessa
rily obtain the interest of the managers.’
4 Y es, when you are knowD, when you
have a native. It is the common law the
most celebrated authors have had to sub
mit to in literature. No one oornes be
fore the woriu. with a renown already
made, it is necessary, then, to make it;
and to enable you to do this, two things
must be called to your aid —the spirit of
intrigue, which you do not possess, and
chance, which you possess in common
with all the world. But do not depend
on chance; it will expose you to a long
chase after success. Now, if 1 desire the
happiness of my daughter, it will not be
gainer! when her heart is too withered by
false hopes to enjoy the long dreamt of
ease. It is only spring flowers which
possess beauty and perfume ; they are
but a deception in winter. But 1 per
ceive that Agatha is pouting. I could
be certain that the justness of my obser
vations have not gaiued a victory with
her.’
4 1 am thiuking, my father, of the sor
row you are causing poor Raymond,
which sorrow 1 most sincerely share with
him.!
‘ My dear children,’ said M. Bellissent,
pressing his daughter's ,hand, 4 1 have uo
desire to afilict you My only thought
is your future happiness. If 1 were rich
you can truly believe me, I would have
throwu aside all these reflections; but
the fortune which I can not bestow ou
Agatha, 1 wish her husband to possess,
J dr. at lertst, I>e hi a position tq enable
j him to obtain it. j(sn tiiisj-quit, lam <je
j tenuiiu d.’
• And, as you have not faith in mv
r*w:-er von nJid JrToI . ,-li*
‘ I h.iv-o n4i Fiffd so, Hayfnotid.’
‘\\ hat! do you then consent, my Fa.
iu._r f
‘Neither did i sav that, my daughter.
Listen to hie, for the last time.—
My dear Agftthfi, you are only seven
teen, and as i do not think, at eighteen,
you will be an old maid, too aged to mar.
r y, you can wait until then without com
promising yourself. As to you, Ray
mond, it is not impossible you will be
aided by one of those chances I spoke of
just now. Work on with courage, suc
ceed, and in one year T will allow you to
repeat the question you have asked me
this day.’
One year before him, and, the one con
dition of success, the hand of Agatiia !
Raymond retired triumphantly.
Three months afrer this interview,
! Raymond was wrapping up, with most
paternal solicitude, a clean manuscript
which the copyist had just sent him;
then he started with a light face, full of
hope, on the road to the theatre, where
he destined leaving the fruits of his med
itations.
However, in spite of the confidence
natural in an author who has worked
well, it was not without a certain sink
ing that he reached the entrance, and
requested the door keeper if he would
be so kind as to announce him to the
manager.
But it had not entered Raymond’s
mind, of the perfect impossibility for a
manager to see the thousand unknown
j
geniuses who walk the streets of Paris, |
from morning to night, with their heads !
as full of conceit as their port* feuilies- 1
are empty of talent. !
Great was his disappointment when
tlm irvtAix <• J A• ! -1, 1 1— *-L ,
Mger was too much occupied to receive
him. Great was his regret at having
prepared a magnificent address, which
was ali lost, and by which he had intend
ed producing the greatest effect. He
sadly yielded to the request that he
would leave the manuscript, and return
ed home, dispirited and forlorn, his great
hopes much shaken by his non-success.
At the end of two weeks the manu
script was returned, as clean and free
from creases as when it left his hands,
accompanied with the following note :
‘ Sir :—I have found, in the work yu
have had the kmdneaa to leave with me,
spirited dialogues, well arranged scenes,
a plot well carried out, and the different
characters traced with skill. Lufortu-
nately, the subject does not answer to
the merit of the execution, and, however
much I might wish to aid’ you,’ etc.
Raymond did not take the trouble of
finishing the reading of a letter which
opened in such a manner, but threw it
violently in the fire. After this first
check to the fulfilment ol his hopes, he
shut himself up for one month, exhaust
ing all formulas of despair and lamenta
tion. At last, he wisely reflected
that the judgment of one manager was
not irrevocable, as far as the rest were
concerned, and that, for one theatre clos
ed to him. there were twenty whose
gate he could at least attempt to scale.
He recommenced his walks ; and again
made a deposit of his manuscript, which
was re tuned to him the seoond time, in
ait its primitive purity.
The letter accompanying it was as
follows:—
4 Sir :—The plot of the work you have
been so kind as to send rue is both in
teresting and original. Unfortunately,
the execution does not equal the force of
the subject. The characters are incom
plete, the dialogues are feeble and bro
ken, betraying a want of experience in
the style needed for the stage. In fact, 1
do not think yonr piece could be carried
through. With my regrets,’ &c.
This time “Raymond, also felt angry,
but he was not discouraged, as the un
soiled appearance of his manuscript too
plainly showed that neither of the mana
gers had read it. Consequently, he
thought himself authorized in stili retain
ing the good opinion he had from the
first entertained of his production ; but
he was, nevertheless, convinced of M.
Beliissent’s words, that chance alone
would enable him to succeed.
Now, as the probability of succeeding
by chance depended ou the number of
attempts, Raymond determined not to
stop before exhau-tiug every source. —
Alas! his manuscript, anew Prote
us, under ali forms, sometimes comedy,
sometime a comic opera, or vaudeville,
returned to him ten times, escorted with
polite refusals, courteous regrets, and al
ways without having suftered the least
alteration in the original purity of its
leaves.
Raymond at last asked himself if chance
was not a chimera. It had been refused
b v all the directors except one ; and this
one had provided for the future success
of his theatre by an engagement with the
nv'St fruitful and rciiowm J author of the
as a dependence. However, Raymond
wept to him to satisfy his conscience.-
To his great astonishment, entrance to
this last judge was not denied him. He
was ushered into the antechamber, where
they begged him to wait a few mo
menta.
This opening appeared full of hope to
Raymond. ‘ lias my chance at last ar
rived V thought he breathing more free
ly, and his heart lightened by a ray of
hope. A door opened; the manager
came out of his office, conducting a per
son to whom he said, ‘ St. <’lair may rest
satisfied. His manuscript will not re
main half an hour in my desk. To mor
row the copyist will separate the parts,
and 1 will distribute them. Tell him
to remain at the waters, and take
care of his health, which is so precious
to our theatre. He need not ihinkcf
reading over or worrying about the
proofs or the title, since he is not satis
fied with the one he first chose. Before
being a manager, I was his collaborator;
and he can depend on my seeing to these
little matters.’
The two persons ifisappeared in the
corridor, and though they still continued
talking, Raymond could not hear what
was said.
‘ What a happy mortal this St. Clair
must be!’ thought our youug author,
throwing a sad look on the roll he held in
his hand ; ; his works are not even’ read
over, there is smh’eonfklence in their be
ing master pieces It is true that mine
are not read either ; but there is a great
difference in their destinies. St. Clair’s
productions will be rapidly brought be
fore the public, carried far and wide by
the putts of the editors ; while mine will
fity 1 ~ ivns'rf'sarneiin 1 remain
of justice!’
Raymond, looking into the manager’s
office, felt his chagrin redoubled when ho
perceived bn the desk a manuscript still
folded and sealed. ‘ Look at,’ cried he
; becoming still more excited ; ‘ look at
j this master piece which has been so
warmly receive;!. Ts Ippoor and un
known, had brought it, there could not
be found word humiliating enough with
which to return it; whilst my piece, put
in its place, thanks to prejudice, would
be read with enthusiasm by the manager,
learnt with zeal by the actors, played
spirit befote tfie public, who, perhaps,
would ratify the confidence of the actors
and manger. Ah ! I wish 1 could, with
an easy conscience, make the change !
And why 0011 Id l not I No one can sec
me; there is nothing to fear. When an
explanation becomes necessary, it will
be i-aid that the manager, in a moment of
ab'-enee, made a mistake. As to St.
Clair s play, it will be performed a little’
later, that is all. I must not hesitate;
iny situation is desperate; one movt
A’lll cud it ail !l
Eaymcfftifi resolutely entered the office
laid his manuscript on the desk, and took
that of St. Clair. Tie then returned to
the antechamber, where he awaited the
return of the manager, to whom he pre
sented St. Clair’s work as if it were his
own. Finally, after a shoit audience
composed ot cold civilties, he returned,
leaving a card on which was written his
name and addicss.
What anger, and yet pleasure, he
would have felt, if ho had remained in
the office, invisible.
Deceived in the change of manuscripts
our manager fastened Raymond’s card to
St. Clair’s production, and threw it with
much disdain, among a vast pile—the
grave of all youthful literary effusions.
Having fulfilled this first duty, he has
tened to unrol Raymond’s manuscript,
feasting on it with triumphant looks.
‘ What a brilliant style and vein of
humor !’ cried he, after reading every
scene and page. £ lt possesses novel sit
uations and powerful interest ! And
how smoothly the plot is ravelled, and
unravelled, and finally developed ! It
would be impossible to find livelier dia
logues, more finished and graceful details.
What did my dear St. Clair mean, by
writing to me that the title was not com
prehensive enough ? It is complete, per
fect ; besides, it is attractive, and will
look very enticing on the play bill. De
cidedly, it is a capital production.—
There are two hundred thousand francs
for the theatre. M>rbleu ! we must be
quick, and have this in three weeks!’
And, three weeks after, a high-flowu
puff inserted in all the papers, invited the
Parisian public, to the first representa
tion of a master piece by the great wit,
St. Clair.
The same day, a b6£ belonging to the
theatre carried the real St. Clair manu
script to Raymond, with a note, the sub
stance of which wao, that the maagarnqag
I °f the evecutKm, would render therecep-
I tion of the work ftnposib!e.
St. Chur, suddenly recalled £<* Patjf
the crowd were assembling Ground the
theatre. As he had read, in the last pa
per. the puff bel ore mentioned, caprice
induced him to be present, incognito, at
its first representation. Nothing was
1 easier ; he owed to the gratitude of the
muuager a box for l.fe, of which he had
the key.
At the same instant St. Clair opened
the door of this box, a young man was
hastening along the corridor, trying to
find a seat among the working, but with
out success.
‘lt is an insult!’ cried he. ‘.Jsepa
crowd of people seat themselves with
perfect ease who have free tickets, whilst
1, who have paid at the office, am forced
to stand, at the door, of the orchestra or
gallery behind five or six persons simi
larly circumstanced ! I will uot stand
it; I must hear and see well. If I could
get a place in the third, tier, however
small; 1 would pay fifty fntnes for it.’
* Dialle /’ thought St. Clair, ‘ whether
this is a friend or au enemy, he seems to
wish to enjoy his applause or watch his
disgust.’
And, addressing the young man, he
eagerly offered him a’ seat in his box,
which was accepted as eagerly.
The young man w’as Raymond.
Our two spectators had scarcely seat
ed themselves, and exchange a few po
Jite remarks, when the curtaiu rose.—
lhey immediately became silent and at
tentive, and the same anxiety was paint
ed in their faces, which were turned to
ward the stage. But this unity of ex
pression did nbt last long. Surprise and
discontent were manifested on that of
St. Clair. Re opened his eyes, and lis
tened with all attention; he pressed his
hand to his forehead and eXanfined. his
to ? What had become of his plot 1 —
Where were the actions he had arranged
and his scenes he had drawn! What
were the actor doings \ lie recognized
nothing, absolutely nothing. There must
certainly be some mystery,’which ho
would have explained. This explanation
he was about to seek on the stage when,
l on arising, his eyes were attracted by
his neighbor in whom he observed, with
redoubled surprise, marks of the most vi
olent agitation. Raymond wx- leaning
forward ; his neck was stretched far be
yond the box ; he was red and pale twen
ty times in a minute. While listening
to the performance, he would sometimes
hold his breath, as if afraid of disturbing
the spectators, or losing a word the ac
tors said. Sometimes his look would
wander from the parterre to the orches
tra, from the boxes to the galleries, and
bis forehead was calm or rutHed, accord
ing as there was applauding or silence.
At last, an actor having made a mistake,
he arose, full of indignation, then sank
back in his chair again.
Ah ! how unfortunate ! he is wrong —
he will kill me—he will spoil every
thing !’
•What is the matter, sir V said St.
Clair, who could not recover from his as
tonishment.
1 What is the mater!’ answered Ray
mond. ‘I am suffering the agonies of a
martyr. Here is a lover who does not
know’ his part, and how he is killing the
piece. There ! there is the beloved one,
who is playing so coldly! And the fa
ther does not enter ! AH, will be lost!
it will be hissed ! No! it is over!-
What happiness!’
The astonishment of St. Clair was at
its height.
* You appear to take a lively interest
in this play, sir T
‘ I would give ten years of my life for
it to succeed.*
‘ Permit to observe that your sacrifice
is a little two exaggerated.’
‘What are ten years in exchange for
happiness and glory V
St. Clair looked at Raymond with stu
pid wonder. It suddenly oeeured to him
that he could obtain here some explana
tion of the mystery he was about to seek.
He questioned Raymond, whose fever
ish state predisposed him strongly to
confidence, and he gave, without much
entreaty, a true and simple account of all
the circumstances. The story was scarce
ly finished, when the building rang with
loud bursts of applause from all sides.—
It was the last scene of the first act which
called forth this enthusiasm.
Extreme joy and sorrow are apt to
produce the same effects. Raymond felt
his strength give wav, and, the applaud
ing still increasing, he fell utterly un
conscious in St. Clair’s arms, who called
one of the work-womeu to bring a glass
of water, seeing at a glance that there
was nothing dangerous to result from
this emotion.
After leaving Raymond to the care of
the woman, he disappeared.
The aeoond act ooronaenoad. The parte
[were tancee , to use a greeivroom phrase;
that is to say, constantly disturbed by
stamping, and cries of bravo. ‘lhe finale
Yfie~ rtarne of the
author. B 1
Raymond entirely, recovered, re-en
tered his box, where, this tipie, he wit
nessed alone the success of his work. —
His strength had returned; but when
the c.irtain rose, when he thought that
the actor, iu solemnly advancing to an
nounce the author’*, name, was to deprive
him of his crown, he felt as if he
could not support it, and rose hastily to
make hi£ esrfape. But he was too late ;
a name struck his ear. But what sur- 1
pris§ and joy ! This name, pronounced 1
in a loud voice, and which the enraptured
crowd saluted w ith a triple round of ap- 1
plause, was his own !
At the same instant, the door of the
box opened. St. Clair appeared, em
braced him. and, without giving him time
to recognise who it was, conducted him
tb the actor’s room, where there was eve
ry danger, of his again fainting, such was
his embarrassment at the manager's com
pliments. as well as thosfe of the entire
corps.
Everybody can imagine the finale
how M. Bellissent had no longer any ob
jection to giving Agatha’s hand to Ray
mond, who is now chevalier of tho Le
gion d’Honneur, and one of the-first of
the candidates for a vacant place in the
Academy As to St. Clair’s comedy, it
was played some months after that cif
Raymond, and with a success which .af
forded an aniple"reward for its long de
iW- .il. •
From the Wavbtngwa United States Trifgraph.
Influenza—Remedy.
Hop tea is the best thins in the world
for your cough, Mr. , said aunt
C.; jt cured my husband in twenty-fobr
hours after he began taking it. and he's
made the most of this delicious beverage
till I was body aud soul as bitter as gall.
Now, I never did see such folks as these
old doctoring grannies are, hastily utter
ed my cousin William, to whom 1 pre
sented a specimen of the medicine I was
employing. Why will you kill yourself
with such stuff? gin sling, piping hot,
will break up your cold after a few glass
es, and make you well. That’s my cure
all, and my father’s before me. So I
made free with the gin bottle, and took
many a long quaff of this liquid fire, in
hopes of clearing out the pipes of my lungs
which were greviously obstructed. You
will get drunk, cried the minister’s wife;
my old man took the same medicine, and
it made him talk and act like a fool all
night. I don’t mean he got intoxicated,
but he acted plaguy strangely. No;
gin will never do; drink barley water,
sweetened with brown sugar, and soured
with lemon juice. That will certainly
cure you, for I saw it in the National In
telligencer. Very good recommendation
thought I; and so, laying aside hop tea
and gin, much to the grief of aunt and cou
sin 1 put barley water, sweet and sour,
in immediate requisition. This gave me
a fine perspiration, and consequently, I
took anew cold every time I looked out
of the window.
What do you take for yonr cough!
said Miss G. I replied by giving her a
Tisf of the whole. I dare say, said she,
the old ladies and maids have been dosing
you with abundance of bitter nauseous
draughts. I’ll make you something that
will relieve you immediately W ell, 1
had scarcely reached my lodgings, when
a little urchin brought in a “mighty heap”
of taffy, with a verbal direction—Miss
G„ ays you must eat seven inches of
this here every two hours. Sweet phy
sician ! I will double the dose, said 1, and
enjoy the good while it lasts, which,
Mr. Editor, was not long. Nevertheless,
it made no impression on any of the thor
acic viscera.
Last Sunday I went to church, and
much to my own as well as to others’ an
noyance, I coughed almost incessantly.
Service over I would defy even a yankee
to guess how many lamentations were
made over me by old and young, or how
many different kinds of remedies were
recommended. Some, who had advised
me on the preceding Sabbath to taketheir
medicine by all means now gathered
around me, phalanx dira , and eagerly en
quired—Mr. did you take that
sweet oil and honey ? e9 > Madam.—
Well didn’t it help you 1 No, Madam.
Then you didn’t take it right, for it is a
t&rtain cure. Did you take the lemon
juice, laudnum and honey 1 No, Miss.
Well you may cough your liver out for
aught 1 care 1 O, you are so obstinate !
and away she whirled in a most sublime
fury. Did you take the rye gruel and
opinm ? No, Sir. That is No. 52 on
tny list of receipts, and will not be called
up till other bills are dispatched. So,
sir, I was detained in the isleof the church
a full half hour, alternately pitied, re-
I proved censured. All talked at once,
* +mr ***3 jhujF > t •
MO. -4=o.
J>7T t - y**** * mh f •r** *■***. *
as women sometimes do. ail agree*! t’.
I was. a downright obstinate fellow, In
caused said I would nat,try but on**nt<-1
mirth, ?- know ’twill help you. Th .. and
folks, both matrons and maids, recom
mend “bone-set tea,’’ “liife everlasting.'’
“Turlington's halsaip,”“brown mix.;, .
I “hoarhound,” “catnip”and “penny ro\ ai.”
etc.,etc. While mv com?*M">iitHt*-von g
friends advised taffy, candy, lemon ju.i-o
and loaf sugar, honey, etc., and all sweet,
things. But Mr Editor, I have come,
though late, to the conclusion, that one
good physician knows tin>r*> jlgm them
all, and if I continue much longer in
theif hands, 1 shall soon be m my grave.
* ~ * EXPERIENCE.
Hair Specifics.
The number of hair specifics which are
now vended tinder the astonishing names
of ‘ Waphene,’ ‘ Tricophernus;’ 6ic.. is re
, ally wonderftil. It is professed for them
that they restore the hair, (curing bald
ness,) prevent it falling put, give it a
beautifully soft and glossy appearance,
and “either- kill or cure all the ills that
hair “is heir to.’ Jnd£ifig from the
number of establishments w here sot h ar-
are manufactured, the quantity sold
must be prodigious; and judging fron.
1 tbe prices at which they Are sold, the
■ profits* arising from them cannot be small
That some of these lotions are gt>od in
their way, there can be no room to douct;.
-but the merits of the best are greatly ex
aggerated by those who sell them. We
will give a feyr recipes tor making such
Specifics, so thatthose of our readers who
w ish use them can make the preparations
themselves.
No. 1. Take eau de cologr.e two
ounce*; tincture of chant ha rides. hair
an ounce; and add twenty drop- of the
oil .f lavender.
No. 2. Take vim-par of i.mhaiV, ,
half an ouneej eau de cujug.ie
No. 3. Take an ounce of castor od,
mix it thoroughly with a pint of alcohol,
ntid add half an ounce of the tincr r- ■ 1
canlharides.'i •
No. 4. Sgiphtiru; ether one oieic. -
lure oi cantkifitles ounce, oliw fl
ounce, akiob’ \ o‘\ f -d.
t rJa°'-U lout', rt .'.ptei *e .. *hi
first two are fruna th Zrasmws
Wilson, Jb\ R. £>., ih - ai4tb.. us i. M aMe
Ircatiso ou uj g*. *s. Th*- h>-t
wo rceipx t u<ejoi;uw< q hy v *
uiauutactii Tit-j'.niyl*-f. i Mile r
better fiia ll Lhc first two ; they arc c.tpu
blo pf making e-xoj-lieui i'nei.j -hem>.
both u/f keeping she head man, , u win
ing the hair lulling out, and. it iu
es, curing prrtial badness, in u*n
thent, the in act should be brushed nut li
ly with a hard hair-brush, lheloiion the*
applied with a piece of sponge, the hi nd
brushed again, and a silk nightcap t m
on. The beat period to apply it is ju t
before going to, bed, but it may also be
used at any time of the day.
The philosophy of such hair specifics
consists in considering decay in the
growth of hair to be due to an absence
of vigorous action in the nerves of the
scalp. The tincture of caulharides ex
cites action in these nerves, and its • ffice
is to restore vigor to the hair, prevent
ing its falling out, and promoting its
growth. The oil keeps the tkm soft, and
the alcohol tends to dissolve ihe, scurf
and keep the scalp clean. The alcohol
requires to lie ninety-five per cent, proof,
or it will not dissolve the oil. Ibe tinc
ture of cantharides can be purchaM and at
the druggists; but it can be made one
fourth cheaper by steeping one ounce of
Spanish flies in six ounces of alcohul for
twenty four hours. Any perfume may
be used, but the oil of lavender is about
the cheapest.
The Tricopherous can be colored a
beautiful crimson by steeping a few ehips
of alkanet root in it, or colored yellow
by a little bichromate of potash, but the
color adds nothing to the quality of the
Motion. An alkiKne solution of honey is
recommended by some for restoring the
hair in cases of baldness, and a vinegar
extract of horse-radbh as a substitute for
caiitharides is described in one of Eras
mus W’lson’s specifics; but those we
have given are as good as any, and can
be made at a comparatively small cost.
Scientific American.
——
A Kentucky Anecdote.—A Sum’ -. nge n
tleman owned a slave, a very in’ d*eiil lei
low, who wps a UnWersalist. Ou one occa
sion be illustrated the intellectual chant ter
ofhis religion in the following innner : A
certain slave had obtained liter c*- ’ < I tin
Baptists to preach. He vs h< ing f*h
in the presence of many ol lus co or* bi* u.-
ren at one time, when he tfnderto k to > >-
cnbe the pro- vss ot Adam s cea or
he, ‘When God make Adam, .-
scape up a little dirt, wet ir a i tie wm
a little in he hands and squeeze it in •
shape, and den lean it up against be
’•Top derel ’ Said our Uuiv. rsidi- ai ey
•‘You say datare de tusteat meu and,: ir.a * ?
“Sarteu 1” said the paeaclier.
l, Den,” said the other. 1 jns tell a feller whor
dat ar fence cam* from T
“H-iyhl ’ said the p * ‘ ‘ • -re
I questions 1 kt ib, awu. •. j*— •* -i. -c~-
in de world.’