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VOL,. .
THE GEORGIA CITIZEN
I is nubiished every Friday morning at >2XO per annum in ad-
I v-irf }? vi if paiil within three month?, or *3.00 If not paid
I w'tliin the year.
I AJiertiwmeDU at the rfftular charge will be One Dollar
I r , r jooar,- o f •at hundred t rords or lees, for the first inser-
I I r ind F< sty Cent* tor e*eh subsequent insertion. All ad-
I wrtis ’ ■ nts t specified as to time, will be published until
j> and accordingly. A liberal discount allowed
I r ,ie who advertise by the year.
I obtruary Notice* of over ten lines, will be charged at the
I t nnoiincements at candidates for office to be paid tot at
I the usual rates, when inserted.
I L heral amngementa made with county officer*. Druggists,
| Auctionera. Merchants, and others, who may wish to make
I limited contracts. a.—
Laud aud Xearoea, bv Executors. Adminirtra-
I t •. yd Guardians, are required by law to be advertised In a
I ‘ metu, fortv davs previous to the day of sale.
I F These *ies must be held on the first Tuesday In the month.
I y -'i the hours of ten In the forenoon and three In the af
[ wraooa. at the Court-house in the county In which the prop-
I ertv is situated.
I hale? of Personal Property must be advertised In like
I manner, forty days.
Yitite to Drbior* aud Creditors of an Estate must be
I nublished forty dap.
I P >oilee that appUcatkM will be made to the Ordinary for
Ii U vt ’ . .>'.! Land and Negroes, must be published weekly for
I two months.
Citation? for Letters of Administration, thirty days; for
I jyomias.'.a from Administration, monthly, six months; for
I V mi?- ‘i from Guardianship, weekly, forty days.
Hole? for Foreclosing of Mortgages, monthly, four
I m mtfes; for establishing lost papers, for the full space of three
I I . ;.:.-; or rapeliing titles from executor* or administrators
I whirs a bond baa been given by the deceased, the full space of
| three months.
Professional and Business t arda will be Inserted mt-
I der this head, at the following rates, viz:
For Five lines, per annum * fi 00
eo Seven lines, do 800
do Ten lilies, do 10 00
No advertisement of this class will be admitted, unless paid
for in advance, nor for a less term than twelve months. Ad
i ertisemenl* of over ten lines will be charged pro rata. Ad
v. r - cer ts not paid for in advance will be charged at the
I reguh
I mimrn ud busihess m
08. H. A. METTAUER,
HAVING spent a portion of three succeasiye years in
this city, during which time he haa limited his
| practice almost exclusively to Surgery, now respectfully
j offers his services to the cititens of Macon and surround
[
on the South East Corner of 8d and Cherry streets, oyer
Mr. Asher Ayres’ new Grocery Store.
sepJT—tf
LANIER & ANDERSON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
HD BOOTY LAUD AND PENSION AGENTS !
MACON, GA.
Bums* the regular business of their Profession they
have Ist years past been engaged In prosecuting claims
fer Bounty Land and Pension, In favor of soldiers, their
widows and minor children.
They have also obtained the eorrect forms and the
rules fer obtaining Bounties under the Aet of Congress
(ust pissed.
feb24—tf
0. BJHCE,
TUNER AND ism REPAIRER
Os PIANO PORTXiS,
U Permanently located In MlCOn. fJP Miuica •?>,
be left at Messrs. Virgin’s and at E. J. Johnston A Cos.
uovß—tf
BROWN’s||hOTE l,
Opposite the Passenger Depot,
E. E. BROWN, Proprietor,
fW Meals ready on the arrivai of every Train.
aprl9—tf
L. N. WHITTLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
MACON, GA.
OFFICE next to Concert Hall, over Payne’* Drag Store.
janlO—ly
J. R. DAVIS,
land Broker, Collector & General Ag't.
Baimesi attended to in any county In thl* State.
Office corner Jackson and Ellis Street, Augusta, Ga.
nsvl—tf ’
LOCHRANE & LAMAR,
Attorneys at Law,
MACON, GrA.
Office by the Mechanic’s Bank.
JYFTICE HODRS from Bto 12 A. M., S toS P. M. and also
1/from? to 10 P. M.
Will practice in ail the Counties of the Macon Circuit andTn
tm untiejof Jones, Monroe and Columbia, and in the Su
preme Court.
0. A. LOCHRANB. JOHN LAMAR.
las I—ly.
SPEER & HUNTER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Macon, Ga.,
Office on Triangular Block, Comer of Cherry
Street and Cotton Arcnne.
\V have associated as partner* in the practice ts Law in
” ‘ue counties o? the Macon and adloinln* Circuits, and
b.stwhere in the State by special contract—also, will attend
Ue Federal Courts at Savannah and Marietta.
... ALEX. M. SPEER,
‘*-*7 SAMUEL HUNTER.
THE LIVER
INVIGORATOR!
PREPARED BY DR. SANFORD,
COMPOUNDED ENTIRELY FROM GUMS,
of the best l-ui*tlV6 m. 4 Liver Medicines now before
4 “■ i 2'-b!ic. that act* as a Cathartic, easier, milder, and
-.re eff* tual than any other medicine known. It Is not on
’ but * liver remedy, act'.n|i first on the Liver
ri™ It*morbid matter, then on the Stomach and bowel* to
.TTj’ off that matter, thus accomplishing two purposes effec
fl ~ u| T. without any of the painful feelings experienced In the
.'” ‘v ns ot moat Cathartics, It strengthens the system at
‘-me time that it purges it: and when taken daily in mod
-1 ‘*3, will strengthen and build it up with unusual rap
principal regulators of tli®
performs its ftinetion* well,
rully developed. The atom
deut on the healthy action
performance of its functions:
j the bowels are at fault, and
| consequence of one organ—
to do its duty. For the dis
,Uie propnetors has made it
more than twenty years, to
with to counteract the many
i liable.
is at last found, any person
COMPLAINT, in any efits
tie. and conviction is certain.
, morbid or bad matter from
I their place a healthy flow of
ach, causing food to digest
BLOOD, giving tone and
ery, removing the cause of
leal cure.
are cured. AND. WHAT IS
by the occasional use of the
sufficient to relieve the stom
from rising and touring,
retiring, prevent* NlGHT
night, loosens the bowels
TTVENESS.
meal will cure DYSPEP
spoonfuls will always re
male obstructions remove*
j makes a perfect cure.
Ily relieves CHoLIC, while
lis a sure cure for CHOL-
I ventattve of CHuLERA.
needed to throw out of the
cine after a long sickness.
JAUNDICE removes all
or from the skin,
time before eating gives vlg
i food digest well.
I cures CHRONIC DlAß
whlle SUMMER and
j almost to the first dose.
’ attacks caused by WORMS
er, safer, er speedier remedy
I full*.
‘DROPSY, by exciting the
• commending this medicine
| VER AND AGUE, CHILL
! of a BILLIOUS TYPE,—
and thousands are willing to
! tuea,
i Is one of thel
‘-■-mur. toffy ; and when it
•7k i" I *t-r?'ifthi system are
7, a *?“•<'*entirely depen
,4 ls -e Isver for the proper
• ceT ‘ue stomach Is at fault
if, system suffers in
LIV Eh—haring ceased
Sf*®* l hat organ, one of
P ‘ i . stU£l V. In a practice of I
some remedy where-!
w “gements to which it is
To prove that this remedy
with LIVER
‘IJi-a.hasOuttotry a bot
tsfGum* remove all
“ e system, supplying in
the stom
rfi PT HIFmo THE
holth O ‘ the whole machin
a rad
. Ei|TUuCb ATTACKS
ER lA\ IGORATOR.
c.v c ‘lP** after eating Is
prevent ttetood
MaR j; Ile t * keii hofbre i
Ocly one dose taken at
“and cures COS
gj^ e d* 3 ®* taken after each
JKftMa “ f tw " ,ea_
oL s £ K headache.
bottle taken for fe
,,^h* of t h e disease, and
I wl s dose immediate-,
E^lUßßU^aud^-
~ ‘* ni y ne little is
’ ar of medi-l
** T cne botUe taken for
, . J®*** or unnatural col
tme do** taken a short
,;. u * , -.Ppet i te,aDd makes
Rnre. . ‘’ften repeated
Bowpi lu lta w °r*t forms.
El. complaints yield
laYm.ii r tw ° d,rte * cures
® thUdrenj there 1* no *ur
•££ ? orld s as It never i
‘*riLtts botUeacUre9 l
v’^ e r ** ke pleasure In re-
for FE
. tv ER, and all FEVERS
with certainty, !
T to Its wonderful vfr-.
SAN P O R irM LI V E R II V I (* O It t TO IS .
A<l Hho Uae lt gtYlng |he | r unanimous ettfl
in it, favor.
mT Mj* Hater In tk*e mouth valt)* tfce Intlgora
■’ * u< * “Wallow both together.
. THE liver invigorator
urklnjef sTl^lG MEDICAL DISCOVERY, and Udally
ioasip^, CUlrfe fL a “O** 100 great to believe. It cures as if by
luj , , he* du r t thing benefit, and seldom more
Hy r <£ ’ot'Je L required lo cure any kind of LIVER Com
ffs ,V,‘r m the worst Jaundice or buipepeii to a common
EU. c,lt ’ Ml of which are the result or a DISEASED LIV
PRICE ONE DOLLAR PER BOTTLE.
SANFORD Sl CO , Proprietor*,
__ __ S4S Broadway, New York.
Wholesale A.geuts :
m.ia w * Hark, New York ; T. W. Dyott 4 Son*. Philadel-
John*D p 5; Boston: H. H. Hay & Cos„ Portland;
C incinnati; Gaylord k Hammond, Cleveland;
qJoSSu v Chicago • O. J. Wood k Cos., Bt. Louia;
Kfaer. Pttubuigh: 8. 8. Hance, Baltimore.—
*®*®UU*dk f aßj* nl- ff ul Retail by
For the Georgia Citizen.
The Child’s Lament.
BT MATTIE.
“ There’* no one here to love me now.”
Dear little Annie cried,
Ive none to kin away my tears.
Sauce my sweet mother died.”
” There’s no one here to call me now,
r In kindness to her side.
To smooth the curls from off my brow
Since my sweet mother died.
Tbe, r *’e *o one here to teach me now,
VV ithin this world so wide—
How I should pray to iJod above.
Since my sweet mother died.
There’s no one here to soothe me now.
And tenderly to guide
My footsteps in the righteous path.
Since my sweet mother died.
There’s no one now in whom I can
My every thought confide,—
Oh . no, there’s none to love me now
Since my sweet mother died!”
I was her loved and darling pet.
And onlu my Father'.- pride,—
I tt hoped to see him love me more.
Since my sweet mother died.”
Oh ! Annie, there is one aliove.
And He will be your guide.
And ne’er forget in love He came
To save the world—He died!
Then trust in Him where’er you be.
Whatever may betide.
And you will meet again In heaven,
Your mother who has died.
Atlanta. Georgia.
For the Georgia Citizen.
AMBITION.
Strive, shriiik not back,
Tis cowardice to shun,
The rugged path of duty,
Where glory’s to be won I
Be ambitious! Be aspiring! Let no
cloud forever keep you buried amid its
sombre shadow ; raise up thy head, perse
vere, and thou wilt conquer all obstruc
tion rudely thrown in thy pathway. Life
is not a dreary desert; if a desert, it is
beautiful, very beautiful, interspersed
with many an Oasis of cool, refreshing
power. True, there are myriads of little
sorrows, aye, many a heart-drop must
gush, and the soul pale, as it were, with
anguish, at the contemplation of the un
even path we tread, and oft must the
heart almost faint and forsake its ambi
tious yearnings, ere the eyrie “of their
lofty flight be attained. But onward,
should he the mnitn rtf ell On wnrd I lip
ward ! Be not laggard in thy day, but,
step by step, rapid yet firm, haste to
reach the lofty pinnacle of fame ! Clasp
the conqueror’s laurel wreath to thy
brow; fan thy heated soul with the in
vigorating breeze that floats ’round thy
high position; bask thy weary heart in
the reviving smiles of the beautiful ones
of Earth, who are scattered o’er it in
fairy-like diversity ; cool thy thirst with
the water of clear liquid streams (rich,
pure wine of nature!) gushing forth in
limpid beauty, ‘neath the luxurious for
est shade. Diffuse joy with angel hand
’round the pathway of those who bless
thy life; shed abroad winning impulses
of a noble nature; ah, win all hearts by
a kind, sympathetic, but aspiring soul!
Live not thy life out in hateful malioe
with the world. Look upward in all tri
als; draw thy strength from the Heaven
ly source ; plant thy foothold strong, en
ergetic and unyielding, then rear thy
standard in the air, lofty let it wave, and
though enemies, for a while, may thick
en around, trials assail, and those un
worthy of reproach, nay of a frown,
may seek to distill the odious venom,
calumny, yet look thou aloft, and ere
long thy darkened canopy will change.
And what a glorious change! The glad,
bright, gorgeous sun of prosperity sends
forth its ray with a brilliant light upon
thy pathway, and scatters around, in en
ticing diversity, the sweet longings of
thy ambitious soul! Persevere, meet
trouble with determined mein, look aloft
in the hour of the tempest. If sorrow is
with thee, to-day, she may flee, tomorrow!
If deceit, with loathsome cunning
greets thee now, it may fade tomorrow!
If disappointment looms up in thy skies,
troubles, (various as the winds which
change each hour,) rise threefold, perse
vere; with never-faint heart press them
by, tramp them down, and joy, with its
enchanting beam, may spread around
thee, on tomorrow! But ah, ’tis not the
great sorrows, the tall, frightful peak or
craggy precipioes, to dream of whose
awful abyss is death-misery, whose
brink we so oft are doomed to traverse, to
stand fearfully trembling upon; it is not
such a mountain of sorrow that consti
tutes the unhappiness of the world. O,
no! it is the petite cares that are scat*
tered on the wayside, and which all have
to press under foot, that pass through
this earth, nay encounter and trample
o’er each day. The little estrangement
of loving hearts, the careless unfeeling
tone of one we thought a friend ! The
unwelcome, detestable voice of slander,
which wakes through many a buzzing
crowd, the ungracious feeling of some
haughty purse-proud cipher! these are
such reasons as could oft be assigned
for terming this life an unhappy scene,
and though petty and puerile they may
look, reflection confirms the reality, the
solidity of such. Would that the world
could change in this respect. Oh ! that
the noble spirit, the truthful aspiring
heart, could receive its just homage more
frequently! Would that the chilling
iceiness of this world might grow more
lenient, or that the soft dew of sympa
thy floated more freely—that human
hearts beat more human* like! Arabb
tion! ’tis a glorious theme, a theme that
my pen might dwell on for pages, and
then it would leave the word in its many
peculiar beauties untold! When thou
art crowned with fame’s glittering gar
land, let not the wreath of glory prove
thy sorrow, thy withering coronet, soon
wilting away as if no congenial breeze
had blessed its life, but water it with the
ever invigorating drops of goodness;
let not its flowers droop from off the
once green stem, and leave the bare, dried
autumnal like limb, with its torturing
thorns, alone, to cling fiercely and closely
to thy brow, and draw forth agonizing
pain ! No, clasp, and clasp not vainly,
the tinsel attracting flower which blooms
on fame’s lofty peak, bind it to thy brow
with joy, keep it ever green with the liven
ing dew drops of a merciful soul! Life,
’tis no phantom-like illusive dream, cheat
ing as it goes. No, no ! ’tis earnest, real,
and ours is the power to make it a Para
dise or the reverse.
Oh, then, waste not a moment, for a
moment lost, is lost forever ! The grad
ual but unceasing gliding away of the
sand grain in the hour glass will soon
constitute the day, and soon the day will
pass, will sleep amid the buried hours,
and we may search in vain for it amid
the past. ’Tis gone, gone to Eternity !
and we can only brood o’er its wasted mo
ments in solemn, silent upbradings ; ’tis
as a lost gem, a valuable diamond, which
once we were permitted to gather from
the ocean of time’s depth, and then we,
careless of its beauty, of its peculiar
dazzling ray or intrinsic value, thrust it
back, to roll forever in the deep unfath
omed gulf where mortal may never delve
again. ’Tis lost, lost forever mid time’s
unceasing tide, beside its sister gems,
perchance, away, away, from human
grasp
How engaging, still how painful must
this thought be to all, not alone to the
ambitious warrior, child of song, or
thrilling eloquent orator, who are seek
ing, so eagerly, to gain the tall mystic
eagle-height of the aspiring soul, but to
the youth, now toiling amid the rugged
paths of knowledge, now gathering and
garnering away the food for the mind to
feed upon! How thoroughly should
this sentiment be inculcated in their
youthful, docile minds, nay, inscribed
upon the tablets of their hearts in a con
spicuous position, whence it could send
o’er the soul its admonishing voice, —Be
no sluggard, waste not a moment. A
day lost, an hour thrown away as a ci
pher in thy life, may turn the tide against
thee. Then, oh, let all press onward!
Upward!
Persevere ! Oh, shrink not,
When the tempest gathers round,
But at thy post of duty ;
In the darkest hour be found I
Macon, Georgia. ROSALIE.
“I Bring thee a Garland.”
by *. c. M.
I bring thee a garland, oh riiamond-eved maid.
Its sweet-scented bods in thy dark locks I braid.
Love cherished each bloom, with a sigh and a tear.
And the sigh and the tear
Will but make them more dear.
And lend them new charms for each swift-winged year ?
I fill thee a goblet—Tis the heart’s purest win", .
Love's fondi st libation, ricli, ripe, aud divine.
Dipped up from the foontain that flows in the skies
Whose roseate streaming
Is bright in its gleaming.
As the love-stars, that shine in the Heaven of thine eyes 1
I bring thee a song—and though humble the strain.
Love breathes in each note of the burning refrain.
And oh ! that it* tones were as wild and as sweet
As the music of fountains,
Os homes on the mountains.
Or the songs which thy lips In thy warbUngs repeat!
The Dress, not the Lady.
BY MARY A. DENNISON.
Nelly Blossom —a pretty name, is it
not?—sat in her dressing room laughing
as hard as she could laugh. What it
could be for, 1 am sure nobody could tell,
for she was alone, neither reading, sing
ing or talking to herself. She had been
occupied in combing her beautiful hair,
and this was the situation in which she
sat. A brush in one hand, a great mass
ot silken curls in the other, her head
thrown back, her voice ringing out in
a succession of good hearty “ha, ha’s.”
“What is the matter, Nelly?” asked
her mother, standing smiling at the door.
“0! I was thinking of something so
funny,” cried Nelly, springing to her
and playing the brush; “never mind,
mother, I’ve got a plan in my head, and
if I decide upon putting it into execution,
I’ll tell you what it is.”
At breakfast, pretty Nelly was all
smiles.
“Shall you go out shopping to-day ”
asked lier mother, glancing casually to
wards her daughter.
On this, Nelly began to laugh again,
then restraining herself on catching her
father’s eye, she answered, “I hain’t quite
made up my mind —perhaps I may.”
“Ah, contriving already to make way
with that fifty dollars, Uncle Joe sent you
yesterday ! Well, Nell, make good use
of it; there’s many a poor man would
feel like a prince these hard times, with
fifty dollars in his hand.”
“I’ll try to, sir’,’ replied Nelly, her
laughing eyes growing more quiet in
their expression.
“Who did you see last night, Nelly ?
asked Mrs. Blossom, lounging over her
tm after the paterfamilias had gone out.
MACOW, GA. APRIL, 23, 3L338.
“Henry Loyd and Charles Sheldon, as
usual;” replied Nelly, archly.
“Were they both attentive 1”
“As two shadows;” replied Nelly —
“Henry never looked nobler or hand
somer in his life.”
“Last time it was Charles,” said Mrs.
Blossom.
“Nelly blushed. “I know,” she said,
“I find it difficult to decide between them,
I must confess.”
“Henry is the handsomest and richest
of the firm,” said her mother, looking
out as mothers will do for the main
chance.
“I don’t know about Henry’s being
the handsomest,” replied Nelly ; there is
something very superior about Charles
Sheldon’s face, but he is so very retir
ing, one has to give him so much margin.
To be sure, Harry is more dashing,
might be called more elegant, and has
certainly a more brilliant eye and color.
Parhaps he dresses in rather fetter taste,
but although he pleases me in company,
there is something in Charles Sheldon’s
quiet way and deep eye, that some times
seems more attractive.”
“Both appear to have sterling quali
ties,” said Mrs. Blossom.
“V es, they appear to have, but I’m
going to test them to-day !”
“What do you mean, Nelly ?”
“O, that was what I was laughing at
up stairs, this morning,” replied Nelly,
in a merry way. “You see, I have such
a capital plan, and I’m the very one to
carry it out, I think. I shall spend my
fifty dollars on poor Mill’s family.”
“What wild freak now ?” asked the
matured Blossom of the two, looking
wonderingly at the daughter. Dear easy
little woman, Nelly had not much to fear
from any interference on her part. It
was well that voung girl naturally pos
sessed much discretion, good sense ana
good judgment, for her mother had never
imposed any restraint upon her incli
nations, wayward or otherwise.
“Don’t you think Agnes rather a pret
ty looking girl, mother ?”
“What, little Agnes,my dressing maid?”
rejoined her mother.
“Not so very little; about my size, I
believe,” said Nelly.
“Well, what of her? lam all atten
tion.”
“Why, you haven’t answered my ques
tion, whether you thought she was pret
ty,” said Nelly.
“0, yes! pretty, rather”—was the reply.
“Well, I’m going to dress her up splen
didly !”
“Nelly!”
“I am, truly, in the new bonnet I or
dered yesterday, and my best flounced
silk. I’m just going to load her with
chains, rings, bracelets and everything
handsome, and then I’m going shopping
with her.”
“Nonsense !” ejaculated the elder Blos
som; “Nelly, your’e crazy !”
“Nowhere near it,” said Nelly, laugh
ing again ; “I’m going to have real fun,
you may believe.”
“But what object have you in this
quite fuolish scheme?” asked her mother.
“O, you’ll see,” replied Nelly. “I’m
going now, and when Agnes is dressed,
I’ll come down and exhibit her.”
Agnes was pretty, and smart also.—
She was very ignorant, but having been
dressing maid in several genteel families,
she had picked up a smattering of useful
information. As for the rest, she was
fully as handsome and nearly as graceful,
when she chose to be, as many a lady of
fashion.
“She entered into the scheme with spirit.
“You are not to buy anything, you
know,”said Nelly,as she turned waiting
maid, clasped on the bracelet and aided
her in her dressing, “but ask for such
and such silks, speak in an ordering,
commanding way, you know, and man
age somehow to show your money. O,
I have it, carry it in this purse, the gold
will shine through the meshes beauti
fully.”
“And what shall you wear?” asked Ag
nes, surveying herself in the long mirror,
with a pleasant face.
“I; O! a plain drab merino, with clos
ed sleeves and linen cuffs ; mamma’s eve
day straw bonnot, with the flowers taken
out; common lisle gloves, and look just
as plain as a pipe-stem.”
“O dear, dear 1” cried the girl, laugh
ing ; “why, people won’t know you.”
“I don’t mean they shall, said Nelly,
demurely, proceeding to dress her hair
low upon her forehead, and otherwise
alter appearance so that her mother would
hardly have recognized her. Throwing
on, at last, a deep brown veil to shade
her face, she was ready. Agnes had re
ceived her directions to keep near Nelly,
both in the street and in the store. It
was not a long walk to Loyd, Sheldon
& Co’s. There were three young men;
the firm was new and the partners took
an active part in the sales room, thus
overseeing their business and economiz
ing somewhat.
Agnes acted the great lady to perfec
tion. She snook out her silks, tossed
her head a little as if with the feeling
that everything about her was entirely
beneath her notice, yet she could conde
scend to buy something, and sailed along
the store, her humble looking companion
behind her. She paused at a place where
four clerks stood with their eight hands
ranged along together, ready to jump
over the counter if need be to execute
the lady’s commands.
Nelly stood quietly back, her face sha
ded by the brown veil. She saw Loyd
immediately leave a plain looking cus
tomer to the civilities of Sheldon, who
was near him, and making a sign to the
clerks,'he was left alone with the new
customer.
“I want to see some moire antique,”
said Agnes, with the air of one who has
plenty of money.
“Certainly, madam,” replied the polite
clerk, immediately taking out immense
cases of the splendid silks, and spread
ing them before her.
“How much does them come to a yard ?”
asked Agnes, cunningly showing her gold.
The young man informed her, with a
great deal of deference, turning over and
displaying a great number of goods.
“Them don’t exactly please me; they
ain’t costly enough,” said Agnes, looking
over towards Nelly and laughing.
“We have very splendid embroidered
silks, at almost any price,” said Loyd,
delighted that he had fallen in with a
customer who seemed to have no care
how much things cost; and with great
trouble, he took down other cases, catch
ing his coat sleeve, unfortunately, on a
nail, and tearing it nearly from shoulder
to elbow.
Nelly w T as obliged to turn aw r ay then,
to conceal a smile. Meantime, Sheldon
UnA C r\ f latb CUOtUliiCl j ilijQ
the young girl heard Loyd say, in a mur
muring voice, “Just look out for that
woman there—goods are lying about
loose.”
The indignant blood rushed to her face.
“Isn’t she a customer?” asked Sheldon,
in the same tone.
“No; servant, l expect; carry home
bundles,” said Loyd, still in that sup
pressed voice. But Sheldon did not seem
to appear satisfied; he came forward,
saying in a gentlemanly tone, “can I wait
upon you, madam!”
Instantly Nelly experienced a glow of
warmth about her heart that had felt the
rising of scorn before. She modestly
replied, “Some flannels, if you please.”
“Be kind enough to walk over to the
opposite counter. As I see the clerk is
engaged there, I will serve you,” he said.
Nelly followed with a beating heart. How
different this treatment from the unkind
suspicions of the more elegant Loyd.
Very courteously waited upon her, forc
ing no goods into attention; merely bow
ing if she was not satisfied, taking down
with alacrity whatever she asked for, so
that every moment as she looked at his
fine countenance, her admiration grew
stronger; perhaps another sentiment in
creased also in depth and intensity.—
Suffice it to say, that Nelly bought till
her fifty dollars was expended, leaving
directions for the goods to be sent to a
certain place, to be paid for on delivery.
As she left the store, Agnes threw down
the card of rich lace she was examining,
and saying hastily, “I’ll call in again, by
and-by ;” she followed her mistress.
“Well,” said Loyd, “drawing a long
breath, “of all the infernal”
“Have you done a pretty good morn
ing’s work ?” asked Sheldon, laying aside
the parcels he had sold.
“Good morning’s work,” muttered the
other, “I havn’t taken a red cent, and
look at the counter.” Truly enough,
the counter was a sight to be seen. —
Great heaps of silks, velvets, shawls and
laces strewed it from one end to the other.
“What did that girl buy of you ?”
asked Loyd, directing a clerk to put up
the goods ; a full hour’s work.
“Nothing to speak of—only fifty dol
lars replied Sheldon.
“Fifty dollars ! why, 1 did not think
she was worth fifty cents!” exclaimed
Loyd.
“Can’talways tell by the outside!”
said Sheldon, smiling, “my customer was
a real lady,” he added.
“And mine was—o, dear me!” and
Loyd threw back his head and laughed
—so did his coat sleeve.
“I thought you were sure of a hun
dred dollars at least;” said Sheldon.
“So did I.”
“I was afraid my customer overheard
what you said,” continued Sheldon.
“O, no!” replied the other, “she would
have left the store, but I am too suspi
cious of all who are not dressed in style.
I’ll be mure careful in future.
The lesson wa9 learned too late. In
a few months the beautiful Nelly Blossom
became little Mrs Sheldon, and brought
her husband quite a fortune. It leaked
out about the shopping.
A Woman s Question.
Before I trust my fate to thee.
Or place my hand in thine,
Before 1 let thy future give
Color and form to mine—
Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul to-night.
I break all slighter bonds, nor feel
One shadow of regret:
Is there one link within the past
That hinds thy spirit yet ?
Or lathy faith as clear and tree as that which I can pledge to
thees
Does there within thy dimmest dreams
A possible future shine,
W herein thy life could henceforth breathe,
Untouehed, unshared by miue 3
If so, at any pain or cost, O tell me, before all is lost ?
Look deeper still. If thou canst feel
Within thy Inmost soul
That thou hast kept a portion back.
While I have staked the whole.
Let no false pity spare the blow, but in true mercy tell me so.
Is there within thy heart a need
That mine cannot fulfill ?
One chord that any other hand
Could better wake or still ?
Speak now, lest at seme future day, my whole life wither and
decay.
Lives there within thy nature hid.
The demon-spirit. Change,
Shedding a passing glory still
On all thiDgs new ami strange ?
It may not be thy fault alone,‘but shield my heart against
thy own.
Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day,
Aud answer to my claim
That fate, amt that to (lav's mistake.
Not thou, had been to Marne J
Some soothe their conscience thus; but thou—O surely thou,
wilt warn me now ?
Congress Thirty Yearn Ago.
“Gen. Sam Houston is said to be the
only member of the present Congress,
who was also a member thirty-five years
ago, w hen Edw'ard Everett formed one
of the three hundred constituting that
body.”
There are some slight inaccuracies in
this statement, (says the N. O. Picayune)
although not material. The Congress, in
which Gen. Houston and Mr. Everett
were members together, was that of
1825-27, more than thirty years ago,
but not thirty-five; and the whole num
ber was 261, and noi 300. It was of
that Congress that Gen. Houston was
the only member who is a member of this
Congress. But he is far from being the
only surviving member, and there is at
least one member of this Congress who
was in Congress long previous to 1825.
Mr. Crittenden, the venerable Senator
from Kentucky, was in the Senate in
1817, more than forty years ago. Hous
ton left congress in 1827, and did not
come back till 1846, having been not only
out of Congress, but for the most part
out of the Union, brought back, if all
accounts of his ante-annexation coquetry
with England be true, rather against his
own will.
That Congress contained a great many
men who have since acquired great rep
utation, and occupied the highest posi
tions in the country. Four of its mem
bers—Van Buren, Harrison, Polk and
Buchanan—have since been elected Pres
ident. Two—Richard M. Johnson and
Win. R. King—have been Vice Presi
dents. The presiding officer of the Sen
ate was John C. Calhoun, then in the
zenith of his popularity und highest vigor
of his intellect. The eccentric Randolph
occupied the seat which, at the close of
the term, was filled by John Tyler, af
terwards President. Daniel Webster
was in the House, and Hugh L. White
in the Senate, men whom large masses of
devoted friends unavailingly strove to
elect to the Presidency. Benton, then
a giant among orators and statesmen,
was in the Senate; so was Hayne of
South Carolina, who died so young, and
so deeply lamented ; Forsyth, who nev
er had a superior as a debater in the
Senate, afterwards Secretary of State
and Minister to Spain ; Louis McLane,
who became, successively, Secretary of
State and of the Treasury, and Minister
to England; Levi Woodbury, afterwards
Secretary of the Navy, of the Treasury,
and Justice of the Supreme Court of the
United States.
In the House, besides McDuffie and
Hamilton, and Philip P. Barbour—men
who have left great reputations unconnec
ted with public station—there were Ed
ward Livingston, of Louisiana, Secreta
ry of State and Minister to France;
William C. Rives, of Virginia, also Min
ister to France; Andrew Stevenson, of
Virginia, Minister to England; and,
though we name him last, not the least
conspicuous there, Mr. Everett himself,
whose name had already become widely
known for ripe scholarship, and who be
came, successively, Minister to England
and Secretary of State.
It was a remarkable body which in
cluded these men. Very few of the
members survive, and of the whole list,
President Buchanan is the only one now
in public life, excepting Gen. Houston.
Mr. Buchanan was, however, a man of
mark then. Gen. Houston was only
known for some excentricities, which
soon after made him notorious, if not
famous; and his titles to distinction,
whatever they are, were earned on an
other field than in the councils or ser
vice of the United States.
In looking over the list of members of
this Congress, as published in Niles’ Reg
ister of December, 1725, we notice a
curious circumstance. The list contains
the full names of every member of the
the House of Representatives but one.
There was anew member from Tennes
see, whose Christian name could not be
found out by the compiler; and so he
put him down thus: ^ — Polk. Twen
ty years afterwards, this obscure gentle
man, of whose identity there was so
much question in 1825, was elected Pres
ident of the United States.
Judge Xoi.
Many years ago, two pupils of the Univer
sity of Warsaw were passing through the
street in which standa the column of King
Sigismund. round whose pedestal may gen
erally be seen seated a number of women
selling fruit, cakes, and a variety of eatables
to the passers by. The young men passed to
look at a figure whose oddity attracted their
attention. This was a man apparently be
tween fifty and sixty years of age. His coat)
once black, wa3 worn thread-bare; his broad
hat overshadowed a thin, wrinkled face : his
form was greatly emaciated, yet he walked
with a firm and rapid step. He stopped at
one of the stalls beneath the pur
chased a half-penny worth of bread, atejpart
of it, put the remainder in his pocket, and
pursued his way toward the palace of Gen
eral Zaolnezek, lieutenant of the kingdom,
who, in the absence of the Czar Alexander,
exercised royal authority In Poland.
“Do you know that man?” asked one stu
dent of another.
“I do not ; but judging from his luxubri
ous costume and no less mournful counte
nance, I should guess him to be an underta
ker.”
“Wrong, my friend. He is Stanislas Stas
| zic.’ ’
“Staszic!” exclaimed the 3tudent, looking
after the man who was then entering the
palace. “How can a mean, wretched looking
man who stops in the middle of the street to
buy a morsel of bread, he rich or power
ful !”
“Yet so it is,” replied the companion.—
“Under this unpromising exterior is hidden
one of our most influential ministers, and one
of the most illustrious savans of Europe.”
The man whose appearance contrasted
strongly with his social position, who was as
powerful as he appeared poor, owed all his
fortune to himself—to hia labors and to his
genius.
Os low extraction, he left Poland, while
young, in order to acquire learning. He
passed some years in the Universities of Leip
sic aud Gottengen, continued his studies in
the College of France, under Brissou and and
- : gained the friendship of Buffon;
visited the Alps and Appenines ; and finally
returned to his native land, stored with rich
and varied learning.
He was speedily invited by a nobleman to
take charge of the education of his son. Af
terwards the Government wished to profit
by his talents; and Staszic, from grade to
grade, was raised to the highest post and the
greatest dignities. His economical habits
made him rich. Five hundred serfs cultiva
ted his lands, and he possessed large sum 9
placed at interest.
When did any man ever rise very far above
the rank in which he was horn without pre
senting a mark for envy and detraction to
aim their arr®w9 against? Mediocrity al
ways avenges itself by calumny; and so Stas
zic found, for the good folks of Warsaw were
quite ready to atribute all his actions to sin
ister motives.
A group of idlers had paused close to
where the students were standing. All look
ed at the minister, and every one had some
thing to say against him.
‘‘Who would ever think, 1 ’ cried a noble
whose gray mustachois and old fashioned
costume recalled the era of King Sigismund,
“that he could be a Minister of State ? For
merly, when a pal&tin traversed the capital)
a troop of horsemen both preceded and fol
lowed him. Soldiers dispersed the crowds
that pressed to look at him. But what res
pect can be felt for an old miser, who lias not
the heart to afford himself a coach, and who
eats bread in the streets, just as a beggar
would do ?”
“His heart,” said a priest, “is as hard as
the iron chest in which he keeps his gold—
a poor man might die of hunger at his door,
before he would give him alms.”
“He*has worn the same coat for the last
ten years,” remarked another.
“He sits on the ground for fear of wearing
out his chairs,” chimed in a saucy-looking
lad, and every one joined in a mocking
laugh.
A young pupil of one of the public schools
had listened in indignant silence to those
speeches which cut him to] the heart; and
at length, unable to restrain himself, he turn
ed to the priest and said :
“ A man distinguished for his generosity
ought to be spoken of with more respect —
What does it signify to us how he dresses, or
what he eats, if he makes a noble use of his
fortune ?”
“And pray, what use does he make of
it?”
“The Academy of Sciences wanteda place
for their library, and had not funds to hire
one. Who bestowed on them a magnificent
palace? Was is not Staszic ?”
“Oh yes: because he is as greedy of praise
as of gold.”
“Poland esteems as her chief glory the man
who discovered the siderial movement
Who was at that raised to h' o3 a monument
worthy of his renown— calling the chisel of
Canova to honor the memory of Coperni
cus?”
lt was Staszic,” replied the priest, “and
so all Europe honors for it the generous sen
ator. But, my young friend, it is not the
light of the noonday sun that ought to illum
inate the Christian charity. If you want
really to know a man, watch the daily coarse
of his private life. This ostentatious miser,
in the books which he publishes, groans
over the lot of the peasantry, and in his vast
domains he employs five hundred miserable
serfs. Go some morning to his house —there
you will find a poor woman beseeching with
tears, a cold, proud man, who repulses her.
That man is Staszic—that woman his sister.
Ought not the haughty giver of palaces, the’
JVO. 5.
builder ot pompous statutes, rather to employ
himself in protecting his oppressed serfs, and
i elieving Its destitute relative?”
The young man began to reply, but no
one would listen to him. Sad and dejected
at hearing one who had been to him a true
and generous friend so spoken of, he went to
i his humble lodgement.
Next morning he repaired at an early hour
to the dwelling of his benefactor. There he
met a woman weeping, and lamenting the
her brother.
This confirmation of what the priest had
said inspired the young man with a fixed
determination. It was Staszic who placed
him at College and gupplied him with the
means of continuing there. Now he would
reject his gifts—he would not accept benefits
from a man who could look, unmoved, at his
own sister's tears.
The learned minister; seeing his favorite
pupil enter, did not desist from his occupa
tion, but, continuing to write said to him:
“Well, Adolphe, what can I do for yon to
day? If you want books, take them out of
my library; or instruments—order them,
and send me the bill. Speak to me freely,
and tell me if you want anythin?? ’
“On the contrary, sir, I come to thank
you for your past kiudness, and to say that I
must in future decline receiving your
gifts.”
“You are, then, become rich!”
“I am as poor as ever.”
“And your college ?”
“I must leave it”
“Impossible!” cried Staszic, standing up
and fixing his penetrating eyes upon his visi
tor. “You are the most promising of all
our pupils; it must not be 1”
In vain the young student tried to con
ceal the motive of his conduct; Staszic
insisted on knowing it.
“You wish,” said Adolphe, “to heap favors
on me at the expense of your suffering fam
ily.”
The powerful minister could not conceal
hfs emotion. Ilis eves filled with tears, and
he pressed the young man’s hand warmly,
as he said :
“Dear boy, always take heed to this coun
sel—“ Judge not before the time I” Ere the
end of life arrives, the purest virtue may be
soiled by vice, and the bitter calumny prov
ed to be unfounded. My conduct is, in
truth, an enigma, which I cannot now solve
—it is the secret of my life.”
Beeing the young man still hesitate, he
added:
“Keep an account of the money I give you
consider it as a loan ; and when sonje day
through labor and study, you find yourself
ridh, pay the debt by educating the poor, de
serving student. As to me, wait for my
death before you judge my life.”
During fifty years, Stanislas Staszic allow
ed calumny to blacken his actions. He knew
the time would come when all Poland would
do him justice.
On the 20th January, 1826, thirty thou
sand mourning Poles flocked around his bier
and sought to touch the pall, as though it
were some holy, precious relic.
The Russian army could not comprehend
the reason of homage thus paid by the peo
ple of Warsaw to this illustrious man. His
last testament fully explained the reason of
his apparent avarice. His vast estates were
divided into five hundred portions, each to
become the property of a free peasant—his
former serf. A school on an admirable plan
and on a very extended scale, was to be es
tablished for the instruction of the peasants’
children in different trades. A reserved fund
was provided for the succor of the sick and
aged. A small yearly tax to be paid by the
liberal serfs, was destined for purchasing, by
degrees, the freedom of their neighbors, con
demned, as they have been, to hard and
thankless toil.
After having thus provided for his peas
ants, Staszic bequeathed six hundred thou
sand florins for founding a model hospital;
and he left a considerable sum towards edu
cating poor and studious youths. As to his
sister, she inherited only the same allowance
which he had given her yearly, during his
life; for she was a person of careless, extrav
agant habits, who dissipated folishly all the
money she received.
A strange fate was that of Stanislas Staa
zic. A martyr to calumny during his life—
after death, his memory was blest and rever
ed by the multitude he had made hap
py-
Who can Explain? —Mrs. Dodge, wife
of a captain who was killed at Agra, India,
while lyiDg upon a sofa at her residence at
Deptfort, England, was started to see, as
she supposed, her husband standing before
her. She rose to meet him, but he was not
there. She even run to the garden after
him, presuming he was playing a lark with
her. When she told her friends what she
had seen, they laughed, and pronounced it a
fantasy. Subsequently, it was ascertained
that Capt. Dodge was killed on the very
night of the apparition.
Printing Press.—Richard M. Hob, of
New York, has patented another improve
ment in printing presses. This has relation
in reference to the fly frames, which are
usually made to move by means of a cam
and complicated arrangements of levers, con
necting rode and bell cranks. The improve
ment consist in having a cam shaft at each
end of the machine, and opperating the fly
frame immediately from it, making it more
simple in its action.
Judge Woodward, of the Supreme
Court of Pennsylvania, has decided, “that a
person about to cross a railroad track, is in
duty bond to stop and look in both directions,
and listen, before crossing, otherwise he is
entitled to no damages for injuries he may
sustain.
In trifles iufinitely clearer than in great
deeds, actual character ia displayed.