The Georgia citizen. (Macon, Ga.) 1850-1860, March 01, 1860, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

VOLUME 10. the GEORGIA CITIZEN MDUSTIEO EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY l F. W. ANDREWS. Q., r!i f;_/H Home's Building, Cherry Street, Tiro Dorr* hflote Third Street. rirl i.w<i,*o |>-r Minium, in iduirr. ; n -in* ** U t+i* ,*r<;lianre wilk-bi: Om IttMmr U* e '“"‘ i, ,*4rtd wemtrte ra, for lbe Aral iiieer **’ * : Y’. ’ ‘|_ n mirff— —*~ scSqijt Inaerrten. AH *4- J / *• i s'l vUeH a* to time, wiii be published until r-vf\, X lecordiajfiy. A Hlieni ifiaeonat allowed 1 Vt.. ~lverti** by the year. SUf* . ,/ir.ietiU made with County OffleerNDrupgid*, n.-tonU, tbßl other*, woo may wt*h to mute &linmVawt Duxlrwwe I'arrl* wIB be inserted un r i the UoWta* via: , * ”■ . ...ptrinnam, SW) *- .Oo".\ooo”“.M.’” 1000 ’ _ -Tit of thl< el.ua will be admitted, unless jrnid J ‘ tliaa twrtae nn.-.ths. Ad v ‘ ‘IT.i iit,t ten line* wUi be f>irt prm rat*. A - net paid lor In advene* will be charged at the r ‘l j “iury VoUce* otorer ten fine*. will be charged at the ujnnreawiits of caadMafr* for cfilce to be paid for a . l la* 1 *cre. by Cxecutora, Ad-nir.irtra ‘ 1 . i.v taw to beadreitueAla a ’ . 2 tie flirty day* pr-vi.uw to the day of sale. Thews ?■ , .',,l,lthe drst Tuesday in the month, between i -’*, 1 j iuhe furennon and three in the afternoon, Wriai .n th* county iu wiiieh the property is ritu „f ivraonal Prepertv most be advertised in like \ , lit blurs and Creditors or an Estate mart be K .iV't ‘-'ill ntlmi wilt be made to the Ordinary for ***” x ,, \ >egroes, must be published weekly for I for Le.teia of Adrr.'rttoTaMoa, thirty days; for , ‘T, ‘u Administration. utoathkr, sis months; for ,iv.’.p, weekiv. butv days, i,,. ,f..r Furr cl oa lint of MorliaarH, mniithly ftm K . r. -! iVisOtiig I- st papers for the full space oflhre ’ . tailin ‘ titles from executors or sdministra r\- i is* l h.-u'baa* c'.ven by the deceased, the full sftkrM month*. EARTH’S AKGBLS. f feme not spirit* from th* realm* of ciory. yjti.lt earth asin the davs of old— rj, tir * of -acred wr t or ancient story ? K Hca* st mure distant ? or has earth crown cold ? C 4 ,i-.e I ruf.l, when sunset clouds rec -ding Sttf ! :'b rich bari.ers of a host gone by. • oil uie < rai of some white pinion rpe.ding ‘lot* Uk c mine* of the giowirgsky, j-j,* —r-<-i Tt.’ i'igbt star*hi distant cbtltnesi lm caio.y bomiac. bet coed late and long. Bet ntire’ipulre ’.was un in solemn stillness, |stf no echo of the seraph's song, tßs'h!eia' sir ru their last at them given ;w older iirs Before The tHie grew dim ! f-jtl. t iv-t • r -serce known !■ Peter's prison ? ur ehtrv ri iiliog martyrs raised tht ir hj mn j M rettevall within tte veil departed? no wieg sbe-c the empyrean now ; ill fi.it v i tear from human eye* has started, Sk ingel's torch hs calmed a mortal brow, > urth h - tiigels, thsruih their forma are moulded m tsi.li elay *- ftu.hioa all below ; Ti-Irt tiur;* are wanting, and fright; inl'ns fj.d and, Trt>.< v them by the luve-l'ght on their brow. Il i*en amc-U by the sick one’s pillow. T rs vuthc rnt tone and the groat dim* tread, Tu tv . i'in hearts were droupitg ike the wtib.w, lit) itucii ‘tetween the living and the dead,” luif .!.y right By earthly dimness MadUred bfoics in* toTerln* cbemt>iiu in atr. Tt - ‘-.ire sn argcls in tte gloomy prison, Uer Ad tails—by theinae widows hearth ; it- *>'. they pass, (1, the fallen have uprireu TVrftdrjsssed—the mourner’s hopelrad birth. Iwm one whose eloquence commanding l**dtke rich i*choesot the human breast; Tir nJI-timenituf wealth and eaee wTthetanding is* 111 pc might reach the suffering and oppreet. i t by his side there n ovr and a form of Reant v, ‘t'(r:;v*eet fi *wcr* along the path of life. In -in r up with meek and love lent duty; 1 nhC her angel— but he tailed her Wit*. *®>r *1 int va ; ks the earth unheeded, TIiA h* n its veiled -ladnee* Is laid down, bwuaar .1 ft with p.nioit unimpeded, id War its glory ,lke n starry cr-iw n. Blistellani}. Slavery in the New England Factories—The Shoe Factory, “•■'UblisheJ at Chester, is attracting ; nin the North as well as here.— ■’ i'ilowing letter from Lynn, Mass., il, shows what a workman there ‘ nk* of black and white slavery. We •* a it for the in formation of our readers, lift*?*:— > ve in the city of Lynn, in the State lusachusetts. I am one of the 3,000 •'lie slaves that work here under the shoe manuf;icturer for a n g 1 say slaves, because we are ‘ we work like slaves, and we are like slaves, and I believe worse ; ’ * J slave is sure of a living at the **■. (hut we are noi,) and good treat ”;f he behaves himself; but we don’t ‘■ h.re. The s-hoa immifac*.urers abont slavery at the South. 1 v: ‘‘i like to know what they call it man has to work eighteen ,r utoftwenty-four for a living, (ne • s L not work more than half that I Mil then not get half a one at that. ‘- >nf N! I'mg to be free. I want to If to \ irgsnia, where I hope to be I ; here a shoemaker can earn his 2 without working day and night. I r - Editor, if there is a chutes for com* there to work, I am ready I lv e Lynn and come to Richmond, or 1 User place where 1 can work. I ‘ 401 a good shoemaker, and can kind of ladies’ boots, and have experience in manufacturing - work. If you will inform me -•“t I Mn get work in making ladies’ , (,r f'Uttinz out, you will oblige me •’ Please let me know as ** joo <an. [* Signed] A Northers Whits Slave.” ‘ 4 ‘hall certainly make an effort to ace for the oppressed white man, ’ •’’than hear from us very aoon. Richmond Dixwitch. I, 11 nine years’ old girl the other ‘ a discussion am mg a * t 1 ladies about cooking steak— ■ ‘-Ivetating broiling beef and others ’ “ ton—inquired, Aunt Kit, how I 1 co °k sweepstakes f I > man, visitiiig a prison i| inquired of some of the prison- I , r ** Us of being in such a place.— Ibu 8 answer was “that she stole I * “‘ill, and w ent back after the pond *** arrested.” I flower, the butterflly, I . ‘ truu) ,i crawling caterpillar’s I • 4< ;the sculptor’s thought once I v in a rough block of marble; 1 I a whhapcn exterior there IV. ? stre *ffls of music, wonderful in I \ | l ‘" r ° e i thoughts of beauty which In,; 1 ’ n the age*, eternal in their I H,“ I,noroi comment was made by a gu. , ‘ a where Feniagle dined I *v. r n **is lecture on artificial raera | a * * fcw minutes after the professor ■ the waiter entered, with I ' d ‘ eyes, exclaiming, 1 f.tji.it , dec ' ar e, the memory-man has I e ° umbrella r 1 “I Thonglit 1 Wouldn't.” Two young journamen mechanics were working at their benches, on °lposite sides of fi cabinet maker’s shop. They were botli alxmt twen ty--*Ttrytnr* of age; botli were mar-. ed-; both healthy and intelligent. One ot them stopped his work, turn ed round towards the other, and lean ing against his bench, thus address ed him: “Dick, I always thought you were quick tempered; you used to bo,when you were a boy. Now I think I am not quick tempered, but if the boss had talked to me as he did to you, yesterday, I believe I shonld have knocked him <lown, let the consequences be what they might.’ •Well, Tom, I am quick tempered,’ replied the person accosted as Dick, ‘and as to knocking old Seoldein * down, I had my thoughts about that matter, too.’ ‘To !e Stir A, I reckoned yon were right mad enough, when I saw your face as white as a sheet,” said Tom, ‘but I should like to know what your thoughts were on this solemn occa sion,’ as they say.’ I>i< k laid down his chisel, and turning around, folded his arms, and replied: ‘I thought I would, and then 1 thought 1 wouldn’t. When old Scol dem first found fault with me, and began to scold me, and finally got angry and abused me merely because I would not answer him in the same style, I thought—no, it was not thinking, for it was onlynn impulse it occurred ome that if I should on ly just smash his hat down over his bloated face, and then give him one good blow under the left eye, which should tumble him among the shav ings rather promiscuously, it would be serving him just right, for I was terrible angry. But then I thought —and it was thinking, for it came after the impulse, and restrained it —then I thought that he was a great deal older man than I was, and had a wife, and sous and daughters grown up and married, who would be very much shocked and pained to hear that he had been treated in this way; and I thoughts too. that 1 .was in bis employ, and could quit him at any moment if his service was .ntolera ble, and that it would be disgraceful to jne to have it reported that I had had a fight with my boss ; and I thought how had Lucy would feel if I was arrested for a breach of tho peace, or even made myself liable to be, and so ‘I thought I wouldn't.’ ‘Ah, Dick,’ said Tom, ‘those were not exactly- your feelings, I reckon, when you took hold of your hammer and then pushed it away from y*ou. I believe 1 was as white as yon, just at that moment, for I expected y'ou would drop him, sure.’ , ‘You are mistaken, Tom,’ replied Dick. ‘J did not take hold of the hammer from any- impulse or design to use it, but ‘I thought I wouldn’t have it where I could seize it and strike him without stirring out of my tracks ; and so I pushed it over the end of the bench, and it fell among tho shavings; and it took men long time to find it when I wanted it again.’ Well, said Tom, ‘I don't believe 1 could have stood what you did, any how. But yon use that expression ‘I thought I wouldn’t,’ as if it was a sort of favorite one; have you ad opted it as a motto for your coat ol arms, I should like to know V ‘Sorter some, some sorter not, as they say out West,’ replied Hick, laughing; ‘but it rs said that all the hig! Wit inodes of thought have a ste reotyped expression, and that is the reason, for instance, why those who speak the English language are al ways seeking for that liberty ex pressed in the great phrases which are so commonly used in books, speeches and newspapers. So I eon fess that I have got one little pet phrase, which, when I am in action, reads, ‘l think I won’t’ and when I am pondering over what I didn’t do, signifies ‘I thought l wouldn t. And L think this phrase over a great deal, and i confess it does me good. I’ll tell you how I got into it. ‘About a year ago, I went home one damp, slushy, thawing night, rather late for supper. Old Scoldem had been very cross that day, and very insolent; and that, with the unpleasant weather, made me feel cross, too, very. Well, 1 got home. The tire was almo t out, the room uncomfortable ; but supper was ready ami we sat down at table. Lucy did not seam inclined to talk ; little Jim niv was fretful; the tea was weak and cold, and the toast wasn’t made right I felt ve.y much annoy ed, and I •thought I would just tell Lacy, in a confidential sort ot way, that the tea was only’ slops, and that the toast wasn't fit to throw to the pigs; *nu that I would then put ou my hat. and go off to the Odd Fellows’ lodge earlier than usual, and serve hei right. But then I looked across the table at Lucy, who sat there holding her baby', eating nothing, and look ing pale and weary; ami 1 noticed too, that little Jimmy looked flushed as he sat there in his arm-chair; and it occurred to me that it was just pom hie that my wife might he feel ing ill, and that little Jimmy wav affected by the weather, just like old-, cr folks, and that perhaps, this damp air affected the draught of the ehim nev. 1 asked Lucy if she was ill, and she said that foi six hours she had had a terrible nervous headache. So. ‘I thought I wouldn't’ say anything about the tea and toast, but I per suaded Lucy to lie down on the set tec with the baby*, while I took Jim-1 my ou my knee, and commenced MACON, GA., THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 1860. ‘telling him a story,’ while I put on his night gown, and got him into his crib, where, ax I was describing to him the old man’s sheep jumping over the wall—then another—and then another—and then another—he went over the wall with the twen tieth sheep, and was fast asleep. ‘Then 1 cleared the table, and put away the things, till morning, raked out the fire and got it agoing, and took the baby, which was asleep, and placed it in the cradle. 1 got gome cold water and bathed Lucy-’s hands and face and smoothed down her hair with my hands, (magnetism, you think ? Well no matter;) and placed a wet cloth above her forehead. I asked if she was better; ’yes,’ she said, with a sweet smile, and fairly went to sleep while she said so. So I got down a book of travels, and forgot all alxuit myself for a couple of hours. Then I looked up, and as I saw little J iramy sleeping so sound ly and pleasantly in his crib, where he had kicked himself out to the top of the bed-clothes; and baby, too, dozing quietly with her thumb in her mouth ; and Lucy- reposing to refreshingly, with a half smile on her parted lips, the fire now burning brightly-,and the rain beating against the windows, I was glad I did not speak cross to Lucy, and leave her sick and alone, with a deranged kitchen, a dull fire,a fretful child,and a nursing baby-. What a brute I should have been if I bail done it.’ ‘Yes, of course,’ said Tom, rath er slowly, for he was just then im pressed with the idea that he, with all his good temper, had ‘done it,’ at a time not very remote. But he re gained his composure by- saying:— ‘Well, go on Dick, this is as interest ing as a prize tale.’ 4 have little more to say,’ contin ued Dick. ‘I have considered the matter a great deal, and the more I consider upon it the more often I think I won’t. When old Seoldem is insolent to me; when any- one jos tles me insultingly ; when a trades man or a fellow craftman treats me rudely, my first impulse is to repay him in kind ; but when I consider lhilt.it will do mo r\r\ to do SO, and how much better it will be not to do it, ‘I think 1 won’t. When lam annoyed by shortcomings at homo, and am tempted to find fault, I ask inyselfif Lucy is not a good tem pered, industrious woman, a good mother and loving wife, and if I don’t really- think she has meant to do as well as she could under the circumstances, and then the sharp expression never forms on my- lips, because ‘I think I won’t.’ So when the children are too noisy r , or one of them is fretful, I think that noise is oft preferable to constrained silence, and that it is better to take the little feverish urchin on ono’s lap, and take his i little hand in yours, and to smooth down his hair, and tell him about Guliver and the Lilliputians, than to cuff his ears and send him outraged and crying to bed. lam glad that I often ‘think 1 won t.’ I fool that I have triumphed Avhcn 1 can say- ‘I thought 1 wouldn’t.’ ‘Dick/ said Tom,‘can you givomo a scrap of paper V Ilis friend examined his wallet and produced a piece. ‘Here/ said ho, ‘is the back of a lettor dropped to day in the city post office ; it is addressed tome, and has a post mark on it, too, but as it is marked ‘Paid/ I hope that won t hurt it.’ ‘All the better for leaving your name and the date on it, Hick, said Tom, who proceeded to the desk, wrote something very’ carefully on the paper, folded it, and put it away in his pocket book. The two friends grew old together in their native city. They both be came prosperous in their calling, and were noted for their kindness to their workmen and servants,for their uuenity to the community at large, ind for their domestic happiness.— They were distinguished by civil honors, and made the depositories of responsible trusts. They’ remained fast and intimate friends, and it was t source of happiness to them that heir children intermarried. Thom is died first. In his last will he made a singular provision. ijtem. 1 direct that a certain seal ed package, bearing bis name, shall ho delivered to my true, and life long friend Richard Felton. It con tains a gilt which he made to mo in early life : it has been to me a great source of success, and of domestic* happiness. I return it to him now : he does not need it, but will be glad to receive it.’ The mysterious package vyas pro duced and opened. Lfc-cvrtitained on lv a crumpled, worn and somewhat •oiled scrap of paper, apparently v piece of a post marked letter, which read as follow's : July Ist, 1K06.” RICHARD FELTON, Cirdeton. “ I THOtIOIIT i wouldn’t.” [From the N. Y. Irish paper, News from Home. Hypocrites.— ’Tis not that the hypocrite despises a good character, that he is not one himself, but be cause he thinks he can purchase it at i cheaper rate than the practice of it, and thus obtain all the applause )i a good man, merely’ by’ pretend ing to be so. “Can you toll me, ’ aked a blooming lass of a suitor one day, “what ship car ries more passengers than the Great Eastern 1” “Well roadame, really 1 don’t think I can.” Why, it is court-ship” replied the maiden, with a conscious blush! ADVENTURES OF THE HUS BAND OF A DOZEN WIVES. The Rockford (111.) News contains the following sketch of Jerry Travis who has made himself famous as the hero of a dozen marriages. We copy as follows: Jerry Travis was born in the State of New York, twenty-three y-ears since, and lost his mother at an ear lyr ago. His father bound him out in a family, and came West when Jerry 7 was fourteen years of age, and locat ed in Rockford. As Jerry approach ed manhood, although entirely uned ucated, unable to read or write, and of a green and repulsive appearance, he succeeded in seducing several wo men, and married three others in the State of New York. Whoa nineteen years old, he surprised his father by’ paying him a visit at Rockford, claiming to have just arrived from California, and stating that he was worth five thousand dollars, which monoy- would soon come to him. He persuaded tho old man to allow him to build throe houses on some of his property-, and had tho effrontery- to hire men by the year to do the work. By r tho time tho foundation was laid the father discovered that the y r onng hopeful was a liar and swindler, and had not a cent in the world. This view of the case was confirmed by Jerry’s taking leg bail one fine mor ning. with fifty- dollars of his father’s money, and a suit of clothes. Old Mr. Travis, who found he had to foot Jcrry-'s bills, shortly after moved to j Roseoe, where he met his son, who j threatened to dirk him, but the old , gentleman thrashed him handsome ly-, whereupon Jerry bound him over to keep thepeaee. During this time he had several amorous escapades in Rockford, which were hushed up. We next hear of him in Manches ter, Boone county-, where he intro duced himself to a mother and daugh ter named Olmsted, as a returned Californian, and said, that one or two of the trunks he had with him was full of chunks of gold. The daugh ter, Ann, a good looking and very respectable girl, but who was quite poor, was dazzled by- tho gold sto rit'S of Jerry, and Ll?c*itmo 1 will? after a few days of courtship. He took her to Beloit, where lie mar ried her, and left her in a few day’s, after robbing hqr poor mother of ten dollars. It is supposed that he married sev eral other women about this time, but we next hear of him stealing a trunk from P. It. Ticknor, of Rock ford. For this crime he was sent to the State’s prison for a y r ear, and was released last October. After he left prison, we first hear of him at La Salle, whero he played his old role of returned Californian, with an abundance of tho rhino. On the strength of theso representations ho married a Miss Brown, stayed a short time with her, borrowed ten dollars, and put out. Aurora was next tho scene of his operations. Ho became intimate in a family by tho name of Sower, and while in the house playod sick, and if by accident lot drop a body belt filled with lead, which he persuaded the simple people was gold. Miss Sewer, dazzled by tho (supposed) gold in the body- belt, lent a willing ear to tho seductive entreaties of Jerry-, and ‘while vowing she would never consent, consented’ without waiting for the interposition of priest or magistrate. She afterwards sued hor lover for breach of promise, sup posing that lie had money-, but on Jerry’s offering to marry her in earn ost, she backed out, as it was discov ered that he was entirely penniless. We next hear of him in Belvidere, where he humbugged a poor servant girl at the Julean House, named Lu cy Smith. Lucy had a ‘misfortune’ in the shape of an illegitimate baby, some time previously, and when Travis told her of his love and of his gold, she lent a willing ear to him, and consented to be married after a few day's courtship. The old Cali fornia story’ was again trumped up in this case, and he promised to take the girl to Minosota, to some rela tives she had there. After stopping a day or two in Beloit, he ran away* from there, with Lucy’s shawl and a couple of dollars in money', forget) mg to return a team belonging to Mr. Preston, of Belidere. We next heard of him at Council Hill, in Jo Daviess county, then at Dubuque, where he flourished as George Ferguson. Here he became acquainted with a girl named Emma Beadle, a domestic living in the fam ily of a Mr. Smith, some four miles from Bubuque. She was humbug ged with the old story'. He knew her brother .in California. He saw her for the first time on Saturday— married her the next day, (Christ mas) and ran away from her ou Mon day, with some twenty dollars in money', all the poor girl had. He also stole a dress coat and pants be longing to her employ'er. Galena was next honored with his presence, where he operated under the patrony'mic of Hoyt. 110 hirod a team for Darlington, which lie smashed before arriving at thatplaco. Here ho tried to humbug a woman who had a husband in California, but after driving her and her mother to Shullsburg, she became frightened, and returned home minus three dol lars. We next hear of him at Nora, where he bought a farm for $9,000, but left without paying his hotel bill, and visted West Point, in Stephenson county'. Here he made the acquain tance of a Mr. Mathews, of whom he nquired concerning a certain Jfrs. ■ Anderson, who had a husband in Cal ifornia. lie pretended ho had a thousand dollar check for her, and was anxious to buy- up Anderson’s debts at 75 cents on the dollar. He next tried his seductions on the Yale family-—claimed that he was a nephew of Mr. Yale, and told a cock and bull story- respecting his father, who, he said, owned a line of steamers, running between New Orleans and San Francisco. He even gave their names. He tried j his matrimonial schemes upon Mrs. j Vale, a grass widow, whose husband f a noted scoundrel, had left her, and I who was living with her father, Mr. Bnrbridge. The woman at first do- j marred, ns her husband was still alive; but ho persuaded her that ho Avas in prison in lowa, and was le-1 gaily- divorced from her. It so hap pened that Mrs. Yale’s sister, Miss Bnrbridge, was about being married to a young man in the neighborhood, and it was agreed that the marriages should take place together in Wisconsin. A correspondent of the Galena Advertiser here takes up the story, and gives tho following par ticulars : “He then ongaged a cutter of Mr. Mathews, tells him that he may bo gone two or six days; that he [the livery man] need not be alarmed if he was not back in six days. But the evening the livery man “smelt a mice,” and started after him, taking a constable along. They found Mr. J. Travis, alias J. J. Vale, alias Wilson Waddams at Waddim’s Grove-here Mr. Waddams agreed that the horse should be de livered back to Mr. Matthews vith in two days. When he (Mr. Y.) had returned to where his wife was the evening before, he had missed his pocket-book, containg one hundred and sixteen dollars in monoy, em bracing two SSO slugs and sl6 paper money, and a note of SIOO against a man in Warren, to whom he had loaned that amount, he took a candlo and searched the gutter, thinking he had dropped it in there—finally makes up his mind that he has left it in a storo in this placo. He came ilown nuXt morning ami boai*cKo<l every- where, but no pocket book could bo found. He offers a reward of SSO to the finder of tho samo. He accused tho livery man of having picked it up off the counter of a store lie lmd been in the evening previous, he attempts to get out a warrant for the livery man ; said he could prove that he (tho livery man) had offered a SSO slug to O. 11. Coburn, the hotel keeper of this placo, to admit him in to a show holding forth in his hotel that evening. After Mr. C. denied any such price had been offered him, lie said that it was ay-oung man who was in the hotel that morning, which proves to be Win. May-er, a son of tho propri etor of tho Pennsylvania House at Frecpoint. Mr. Y. says the young man told him that tho livery man had offered Mr. C. the slug to bo ad mitted into the show, and that ho could get others to prove it. Ho was finally prevailed on to take out the warrant, and left for homo and was taken sick—said ho had symptoms of tho Panama fever—he could toll the next day, for persons having the Pan ama fever always had fits, and never lived throughout the third one. He had one the next day, the day after that another, and on third day- he told his wife that ho thought he was doomed for this world. On the third day, when he thought he was about to die, he wished them to telegraph to Chicago to Geo. Smith, the bank er, whom he claimed to be his broth er-in-law, and in case he should die, he wanted him to settle up his bus iness The night previous he had some very bad dreams; he thought he saw his coffin. When in Lena, Sheriff Jennison of Boone county, heard of him and sus pecting he was the deceiver of Lucy Smith, went to that place to arrest him. He found Travis in bed play ing sick, and the family who were preparing to go to California, would not believe he was a rogue, until Sheriff Jennison described the marks upon his arm, which were a bowie knife and a revolver, with J. TANARUS., all in India ink. The Sheriff took him to the hotel, and stayed up all night with him, as he knew that Travis, was playing possum, and in fact sev eral times during the night the sick man raised up in his bod as if to bolt, but the vigilant eye of the sheriff was upon him, and lie concluded ho would not leave. On being taken to the Boone county jail, he mado up his mind not to eat, but two day's starvation brought him to his senses, and restored him his appotito. On being brought before Justice Wright tho follow had the effrontery to pre tend to quote law authorities, when it was evident he could not read, and did not even know the alphabet. He is twenty three years of age, standing about five feet five inches inheigth ; weighs about one hundred and twenty five or ono hundred and thirty pounds; rather slim built; hair of a very light brown color, in clining to auburn, worn long and waving round the neck; eyes of a very light blue, large, showing a good deal of the white; face rather long featured, inclining to sharpness; cc mplexion and color of countenance, nose rather long and sharp. He had a guilty, uncertain anto hang-dog look about him. He has a peculiar shap ed head, and is anything but attrac tive in person. The above is the fullest and most accurate account of the fellow that has yet been published, but there are several gaps in his history we are j unable to fill up. It is known that , ho has had twelve wives, and it is be | lioved, several others, which have been hushed by the families of tho j silly girls. It will be remarked that in nearly every instance it was poor, ignorant girls, whom he married and robbed. From the New York ConserratiYe. jrnro. CALDWELL CALUOUIT, BOBN IN ABBEVILLE DIBTICT, SOUTH I CAROLINA, A. D. 1782, DIED 1850. Mr. Calhoun’s father was an Irish man, and his mother was a native of V irgtnia. At the age of twenty three ho graduated at Yale College with its highest honors, and entered the Law School at Litchfield. In ; 1807, he was admitted to the bar in his native State, and at once rose to : eminence. Tho following year ho was sent to the Legislature, where he served two sessions; and in 1811, was elected to Congress. His first speech brought him conspicuously before the nation as a parliamentary orator, and from that time—a period of nearly forty years—few public measures have come before Congress J without feeling the olectric shock of his genius. As Chairman of the I Committee on Foreign Affairs, he reported, and carried through the j bill declaring war against Great Bri j tain. In 1817, at the early- ago of thirty-fly®, he became the Secretary ofWarof Monroe’s Administration. 1 He found that department chaos : he left it in order. He adjusted unsettled accounts of fifty millions; he reor ganized the army-; revived the Milita ry Academy at West Point, whose palisade cliffs, once blackened by the footsteps of the American traitor, i have been for ever redeemed by- the I heroic tread of a thousand y-oung pa ; triuts. He began a complete sy-stem of maritime and frontier fortifica ; tion ; originated the Coast Survey, and laid tho foundations of the Indian Portrait Gallery at the Capitol,where I Art has generously- given her pencil : to Humanity, to transmit to posteri ty- the fast-fading traces of the Red Men. In 1825 he was elected Yicc- Prcsident of the Republic, and re elected tho succeeding term. Before it expired, he resigned his office at tho call of South Carolina, to become her Senator; and that high place, he subsequently- filled, with a short interval, when the exigencies of the government mado him Secretary of State. Every- session of Congress has been signalized by- some speech of Mr. Calhoun, which was heard throughout tho world, and his great speeches are imperishable. We need not detail his public acts, for they willbo woven into the history of the nation by all its historians ; we need not enumerate his orations, for they have become a portion of English literature. Such are tho well-known facts of his life. A more grateful but diffi cult task, will always be a truthful analysis of his intellectual and polit ical character. Born during the Revolutionary- struggle, he was taught to venerate Liberty, and that lesson became tho guido of his life. In youth, he laid himself on the al tar of tho Republic, and his lifo was a self-immolation. He never shrank from sacrificing the most dazzling opportunities of preferment, to his judgment and patriotism. Spum ing the livery of all parties, he never stooped for their emoluments. From tho first, his creed was broad and clear; embracing well-defined prin ciples on every subject of public in- terest: and although he allowed the practical genius of adapting himself to the age and opinions through which he moved, accepting what was attainable, and waiting for thorest, yet he never gave up his objects, nor changed theprinciples or purposes of his life. Like the Damascus blade, gleaming, bending, cutting through, he can hardly be traced in the rapid ity and glistening of his movements. Vigilant of the integrity of our groat Commonwealth, ho was always jenl ous of the corrupting influence of banks connected with the State.— lienee his unrelenting effort to di vorce the Government from all bank ing institutions. 110 w*ualways the advocate of the navy, as the protec tion of our commerce among distant nations. But his unceasing advoca cy of the great principles of Freedom of Commerce throughout the w r orld, will bo remombered with more grati tude by posterity, than all his other achievements. The day is coming, and he saw it drawing from afar, when every barrier which the inhu manity of other agos has interposed to the friendly intercourse of nations will give way to the progress of light and the inauguration of a sentiment of universal Drotherhood. Mr. Cal houn paid the penalty always exact ed from mon whose hearts beat - for mankind, and whose eagle gaze pier ces the future. For the most part he was misrepresented or misunder stood, by his contemporaries. Ba con and Galileo confided their fame to after ages; and it is the inspiring consolation of such mon while living, that the future is sure to do them justice. As an orator, his chief character istics were clearness of analysis, sim plicity, appropriateness and power of expression, and a subdued and lof ty earnestness. The completeness of his portrait, renders it unnecessa ry to describe his personal appear ance. in the tribune, his erect,stem attitude, his iron countenance, com-’ pressed lip, and flashing eye, often filled his auditors with terror, aad made his familiar friends almost dreed to approach. And yot ho was the gentlest of husbands, the tenderest of fathers, tho most humane and in dulgent of masters. Ho was known to the world only as an orator and statesman, and yat those who were admitted familiarly to the scenes of his domestic life, forgot his pnblie achievements in the spotless purity of his private character, tho warm charities of his homo, and the fascin ating glow of his classic conversa tion. Tho honors of the Senate and the Cabinet, never weaned him from his early love of books and rural pur suits. At every cessation of his pub lic labors, ho fled to his plantation home, to receive the tender greet ings of his family and friends, and the most touching demonstrations of grateful love from the dependent bo ings who looked to him for support and protection. Letters had been the passion of his y-outh, they- were the cmbclishmerit of his manhood, and they were tho consolation of his age. Three obstacles s‘ood between this great man and the Presidency-. The first, was the earnest and unconquer able independence of his character, which left him withont a national party-. The second was the incor ruptible integrity of liis heart, which left him without intrigue or policy*. The last, was an obstacle still more formidable in this disturbed and fe verish age —the philosophical sub limity of his genius. He was not made to sway masses but mind. He could not carry the hearts of the mul titude by storm, but he electrified the souls of the few. In dragging to the dust the pillars of the Roman Republic, Ca>sar heard tho shout of the mob at his heels.. Cato walked solitary through the Forum, and Bru tus fell on his own sword. But the fame of Calhoun has interwoven it self with the history- of the nation, and is therefore immortal. Through good and ovil report, for forty years, South Carolina stood firmly and confidingly- by her great Statesman: and such a Common wealth was worthy of such an advo cate. The frosts of seventy years were on his head while he yet stood in the Senate; bnt they- ha<l notr chilled the ardor of his patriotism, and his genius still glowed as bright ly as ever. Hints to Planter's Wives. For Washing fine and elegant col ORS.The Scientific American advise ladies to boil some bran iu raia-water and use the liquor cold. Nothing cm equal it for ea-ie upon color and for cleaning cloth. To preserve eggs fr< sh a year, mix a handful of unslacked lion with the same quantity of salt, m three gallons of wat er. First pack the eggs, with the small end down, with some shavings to keep them down, and pour the mixture over them, Be sure none of them are cracked. Keeping Milk Sweet.—A corres pondent of The Homestead found that, in sending milk to market, though it left the dairy perfectly sweet, it was often curdled on delivery to customers. To remedy this, the cans were covered with cotton cloth soaked in salt-water. By this method the curdling of the milk was entirly prevented. To preserve butter for winter use, take two parts of the best fine salt, one part of finely ground loaf sugar, and one of saltpetre, beat them welt together. To each pound of butter, worked perfectly free from milk, put one ounce of this composition; work it well into it, and pack it down in stone pots or wooden firkins. Nutter packed in this way will be found to equal the best rose butter, and will remain sweet for years, if not exposed to the air. To keep butter sweet a year, take care that the butter is made iu the best man ner, and the buttermilk entirely worked out of it. Lay it in a white oak firkin. Make a strong brine of salt and water, and put it into another and a larger fir kin, and set the one containg the butter into the one in which the brine is. Let the brine come up very near the top of the butter fiirkin. Lay on the top of the butter a white bag with fine salt in it cover it close and then put on the cover of the outside firkin. IIoW TO PrKVKXT CsKAM FROM RISINO. —I never argue about milk with man or woman, says the lion. A. B. Dickinson, if they do not know that milk can be kept with all the cream in it, as it is when first drawn from the eow ; but I will tell you how it is done. You all know that if you can prevent the cream from rising the milk will be more palatable and healthy, with the particles of cream mix ed through it, than skim milk or milk fresh from the cow, with the fresh taste and odor. To prepare milk in this way take it, while warm from the cow, set it in a cool place, and stir it continually un til all the animal heat is out and no cream will rise after that operation. Try It, and see how much it will be improved for family use. Th Farmer’s Wife. —ls there aay position a mother can covet for her daugh ter more glorious than to be the wife of honest, independent, happy farmer, in a country like this ? To be the wife of one who is looked up to by the neigh bors as one whose example may be safe ly followed—one whose farm is noted far and near as a model of neatness and p,T fection of cultivation. To be the mis tress of a mansion of her own, that may be the envy of every passer-by, because it is neat and comfortable—a swee t aad lovely cottage home. To be the angel that flits through the gardec, bidding the flowers bloom, and twining roses ana honeysuckles around the bedroom or sweetening their fragrance with her sweet est smiles; or spreading the snow-cloth beneath the old oak at the door, to wel come her husband as be returns from his toil; or ever tipping the cradle with her NUMBKE-iiT. foot as she plies the diwher with her hand, or busily moves the needle, at the same time humming a joyous song of praise that she is the happy and fondly beloved wife of an American farmer— one of the true noblemen or tats-country —one that should by right rank as the pride .and glory of America; A lady writer in our exchanges com municates the following interesting bit of information, which she obtained M where she took tea last ‘ c A dish of what I tok for preserves was passed to me, which, upon tasting, I was surprised to learn contained no fruit. The ease with which it is prepar ed, and the trifling cost of its materials, are not is chief recommendations, for, unless my tasting apparatus deceived me as it is not usually won’t to do, it is emphatically a tip-*op substitute for ap ple sauce, apple-butter, tomato preserves and all that sort of thing. Its prepara tion is a3 follows: Moderately bo'l & pint of molasses from five to twenty-five minutes, according to its consistency, when add three eggs thoroughly beaten, hastily stirring them in, and continue to boil a few minutes longer when flavor with lemon or nut meg- Intei#r):tation of Dreams. —To dream of a small stone about your neck, it is a sign of j-. may expect if you get an ex travagant wife. To see apples in a dream, betokens a wed ding because when you find apples, you may expect to find pears. To dream that you are lame, is a token that you will get into a hobble. When a yonng lady dreams of a coffin it betokens that she should instantly discon tinue the use of tight says, and always go warmly and thickly shod in wet weather. To dream of fire is a sign tliat—if you are wise—you will see that the lights in your house are out before you go to bed. To dream that your nose is red aft the tip, is an intimation that you had better leave off braDdy and water. To dream of walking barefooted, denotes a journey that you will make bootless. To dream of eggs, is a sign that you will discover a mare's nest When a fashionable lady dream3 of a filbert it is a sign that her thoughts are running up on the colonel. If you dream of clothes, it is a warning not to go to law for by the rule of contraries you will be sure of a non-suit To dream that you are eating, is certain to come true at breakfast To dream es a barber, denotes losses— hairs may be expected to be ent off. To dream of having a great number of ser vants is madness, % Climate and Products of Arkan sas. The general climate of Arkansas may be described as a mean between the temperate and warm ; but our State is so large —250 miles from the northern to the eastern line, and 300 from East to West—that we may be said to have more than one climate. In the moun tain and ultra-mountain counties of Car roll, Madison, Benton and others, the spring is two or three weeks later and winter sets in two or tLree weeks earlier than in the counties on the Louisiana and Texas line. In the counties above named the climate is not adapted to the raising of cotton, while the southern and eastern parts of the State have as fine cotton lands as are in the world. Experience has demonstrated that ours is one the best countries in the world. — Not only are the flourishing orchards in the northwest considered equal of the size to any in the older States, but we have ’ received from Hemstead and other coun ties specimens of as fine apples as were ever eaten. Peaches, plums, apricots, giow freely and finely. Tobacco has been tried in almost every county north of us, and iu some south of this point— Saline, Hot Spring and Prarie. In eve ry case the crop grew finely, and the tobacco of an excellent quality. The vine, it is almost needless to say, is in degenous to the soil. In time vineyards will be common, and native wines banish the bottled cider and compounds of log wood and other drugs now sold by tho the names of champagne, port, and sher ry. The cereals grow abundantly, and many of our counties are now wheat ex porting. North and west Arkansas offer supe rior inducements to the sheep raiser.— We are satisfied that the merino sheep would attain its utmost perfection on the hills and prairies of our State;. Our win ters are so short that it would not be necessary to provide large quantities of hay and grain for the subsistence of the sheep during the winter months. Land is cheap, and the natural pasturage is excel lent to the very tops of the hills and mountains. From such exj>eriments as have been tried, it is demonstrated that sheep increase here as fast as in any other country. The wool here is superior to English wool, because our climate is * better one. In Spain, where the merino fleece is of so fine a texture, the climate is much like ours. English and Scotch sheep have heavier but coaruer fleece.— The Bengalese sheep were taken to Aus tralia some fifty years ago. There are now ten millions there, and sixteen mil lions of dollars worth of wool annually exported. At the foot of our mountains and hills are prairies and bottom lands. During the summer the sheep would seek the cool air of the mountains j in the winter the shelter of the valleys and river bottoms. The range is so exten sive, the natural grass so plentiful, and the land so cheap, that it seems to us no country can offer so many and so valua ble inducements to the sheep raiser. Little Rock Democrat. Early Marriages.—' Tacitus says that early marriages make us immortal. It is the soul and chief prop of empire. The man who resolves to live witbwt woman and the woman who resolves to live with-* out man, are enemies to the community in which they dwell, injurious to themselves destructive to the world, apostates from nature, rebels against heaveu and earth, and fail to carry out the design of their Creator,