Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

230 LIFE INSURANCE. The Philadelphia correspondent of Harker’s Delawarian , tells the following amusing an ecdote : One day last week, a well-dressed, portly gentleman, apparently from the country, en tered one of our Life Insurance offices, and expressed a wish to have his life insured. It was after office hours, and the place was in charge of a couple of clerks, who, with a party of friends, were “making merrie.”— Giving each other the wink, they proceeded forthwith to “ examine” the applicant. One of them, who styled himself the “President,” addressed him as follow's: President. —“ Were you ever sick V ’ Applicant. —“ Yes, sir!” Pres. —“ How long since ?” App. —“ Thirty-three years and a half.” Pres. —“ What w T as your disease ?” App. —“ The measles.” Pi ‘es. —“ How long were you confined to your bed?” App-~ -“One whole night!” Pm.—(Addressing one of his companions) “Satisfactory on the score of health. Now, sir, we will proceed to examine your body. You will please to divest yourself of your clothing.” App. —“ Do what, sir?” Pi ‘es. —“ In common parlance, strip your self !” Our hero grumbled a little, but at length yielded, and soon presented an appearance beating Dr. Collyer’s models all hollow’. — The “ committee” then proceeded to test his strength, by giving him sundry boxes and bundles to lift. This was followed by a test of agility, running, jumping, climbing, &c.— The poor victim, utterly ignorant of the trick, went through the ordeal very seriously. For three hours the process was continued, when the “ patient,” half dead with fatigue and fright, was pronounced “ rejected, because he could not jump six feet on a level.” The fel low hurried on his clothes, and “shinned,” having probably had enough of life insu rance. WHAT IS IT TO HE POLITE ? Politeness is a trait which ever)’ one ad mires, and which confers upon its possessor a charm that much to pave the way of life with success. But it is very much mis understood. Politeness does not consist in wearing a silk glove, and in gracefully lifting your hat when you meet an acquaintance—it does not consist in artificial smiles and flatter ing speech, but in sincere and honest desires to promote the happiness of those around you; in the readiness to sacrifice your own “ease and comfort to add to the enjoyment ot others. The man who lays aside all selfishness in regard to the happiness of others, who is ever ready to confer favors, who speaks in the language of kindness and conciliation, and who studies to manifest those little at tentions which gratify the heart, is a polite man, though he may wear a homespun coat, and make a very ungraceful bow. And ma ny a fashionable, who dresses genteelly, and enters the most crowded apartments with as surance and ease, is a perfect compound of rudeness and incivility. He who has a heart flowing with kindness and good will towards his fellow men, and who is guided in the ex ercise of these feelings by good common sense, is the truly polite man—and he alone. Idleness.— “ Idleness,” said Chatham to his son, “ I would have inscribed on the cur tains of your bed, and the walls of your cham ber. If you do not rise early, you can never make any progress in anything. If you do not set apart your hours of reading, if you suffer yourself, or any one else, to break in upon them, your days will slip through your hands, unprofitable and frivolous, and really unenjoyed by yourself. Idleness is the pa rent of vice, and the rust that consumes our most precious moments.” Thimble Making.— The Journal of Com merce says, if a lady could see the processes through which her thimble passed, from the solid bar of silver, to the convenient instru ment she uses, she would be astonished. The bar of silver is welded into a long rib bon, which is cut into small pieces, each piece to make the barrel of a thimble. The top is cut out of another strip of iron or silver.— The rim is hammered around a bar of iron 1 and soldered, and after the top is soldered in, the whole thimble is placed on a turning lathe and chiselled inside and outside; it is then marked with the needle holes, by a li f tle roll- j er pressed against it, and finally polished an and ornamented by various instruments. Alto- ! gether, they cannot be less than twenty, and after all, the thimble is sold at a very small advance on the weight of the silver. § © nn? mg[E m kair&iaA&Y 3. Column (imttci) to Jan. THE FRENCHMAN AT HIS ENGLISH STUDIES. Frenchman. Ha, my good friend, I have met with one difficulty—one very strange word. How you call H-o-u-g-h? Tutor. Huff. Frenchman. Tres bien, Huff; and Snuff you spell S-n-o-u-g-h, ha? Tutor. O no, no; Snuff is s-n-u-double-f. The fact is, words in ouglt are a little irreg ular. Frenchman. Ah, very good! ’Tis beau‘- ful language. H-o-u-g-h is Huff'. I will remember; and C-o-u-g-h is Cuff. I have one bad Cuff', ha ! Tutor. No, that is wrong. We say Kauff] not Cuff. Frenchman. Kauff, eh bein. Huff and Kauff] and, pardonnez moi, how you call D-o-u-g-h — Huff, ha ? Tutor. No, not Duff. Frenchman. Not Duff? Ah! oui; I un derstand —it is Dauff] lid, ? Tutor. No, D-o-u-g-h spells Doe. Frenchman. Doe! It is very fine, won derful language, it is Doe ; and T-o-u-g-h is Toe, certainement. My beef-steak was very Toe. Tutor. 0 no, no; you should say Tuff. Frenchman. Tuff? Lc Diable ! and’the thing the farmer uses, how you call him, P-l-o-u-g-h, Fluff? Ha! you smile; I see Tam wrong —it is Plauff 1 . No? Ah, then it is Ploe, like Doe ; it is a beautiful language, ver’ fine— Ploe ? Tutor. You are still wrong, my friend.— It is Plow. Frenchman. Plow! Wonderful language. I shall understand ver’ soon. Plow, Doe, Kauff ; and one more —H-o-u-g-h—what you call General Taylor, Rauff and Heady ? No ? Certainement, it is Row and Ready ? Tutor. No! H-o-u-g-h spells fluff. Frenchman. Ruff, ha! Let me not for get. 11-o-u-g-h is Ruff, and B-o-u-g-h is Buff, ha! Tutor. No, Bow. Frenchman. All! His ver’ simple, wonder ful language, but 1 have had what you call E-n-o-u-g-h ! 1m ! what you call him ? < > The ready wit of a true-born Irish man, however humble, is exceeded only by his gallantry. A few days since, says an exchange paper, we observed a casein point. A sudden of wind look a parasol from the hand oi its owner, and before one had a chance to recollect whether it would be his etiquette to catch the parasol of a lady to whom he had never been introduced, a lively Emeralder dropped his hod of bricks, caught the parachute in the midst of its EUsler gyra tions, and presented it to the loser, with a low how, which reminded us of poor Power. “Faith, madam.” said he, as he did so, “ if you were as strong as you are handsome, it wouldn’t have got away from you.” “Which shall I thank you for first, the service or the compliment ?” asked the lady, smilingly. “ Troth, madam,” said Pat, again touching the place where once stood the brim of what was a beaver, “ that look of your beautiful eye thanked me for both.” —Liverpool Met cunj. What are you doing with that gun in here ?” asked an over-officious conductor on a western road. “If you haven't travel ed in the cars long enough to learn that there is a baggage car expressly for such trumpe ry, you may learn it now.” “Don’t call this trumpery,” hiccuped the man, who was a little the worse for travel, or some other cause; “this is as good a rifle as (hie) ever you saw.” “ It may be a very good rifle,” replied the conductor, “ but this is no place to use it.” “What is that (hie) you've got under your arm there, ch ?” “ It’s an umbrella, to be sure ; why do you ask that question ?” “ Why, umbrellas is (hie) well enough in their places; but if you hain’t (hie) traveled in the cars enough lo find out that we don’t use ’em here, you’d better find it out, now.” The conductor sloped. K&J*’ Mr. Wilberforce, when a candidate for Hull, had a sister, an amiable and witty young lady, who offered the compliment of a new gown to each of the wives of those free men who voted for her brother; on which she was saluted with a cry of ‘-Miss Wil berforce forever!” when she pleasantly ob served, “[ thank you, gentlemen, but i can not agree with you, for really I do not wish to be Miss Wilberforce forever!’’ EDITOR’S DEPARTMENT. ATHENS. SATURDAY, NOV. 25, 1848. vailimibils oma j The Ediiov <> ‘; he Southern Ini err ry Gazette, be ing desirous ol‘ developing and encouraging Literary Talent in the South, lias resolved io oiler the sum of One Hundred Dollars, in prizes, as exhibited in the annexed schedule: THE FIRST PRIZE For the best Tale of the South, . . Fifty Dollars. THE SECOND PRIZE For the second best Tale. . . . Twenty Dollars. THE FIRST PRIZE For the best Poem, Twenty Dollars, ORA COPY (IF harper’s SPLENDID PICTORIAL UIBLE. THE SECOND PRIZE For the second best Poem, Ten Dollars, All competitors must send in their MSS. before the loth day of December ensuing, and lhoy must come, if by post, pro-paid. They should be legibly written on one side of a sheet only. The authors’ names musi be sent in separate scaled envelopes, which will not be opened until the prizes have been selected —when the successful competitors will be an nounced. The ai. tides will be submitted to the ex amination and decision of a Committee, composed of several gentlemen of distinguished character, whose names will be announced in due time. The award of prizes may be expected to be made known in the last number for thcpvcsonl year, and the publication of ibe First Prize Tale will be commenced with the Now Year. The articles offered in competition will become the property of the Editor, and those which are deemed wo; chy will. ppear in the Gazette. AH communications relating to the prizes must be addressed, post-paid, to the Editor. COMMITTEE OF AWARD. The following gentlemen have kindly consented to act as Judges upon the articles offered in compe tition for the above prizes: Professor JAMES P. WADDELL, Dr HENRY HULL, JAMES AY. HARRIS, Elq. Winter Evenings. The chill breath of the frost-king has succeeded to the balmy airs of Autumn. The fruits of the earth, bountiful and precious, have been duly gar nered; and to hundreds of our readers there has •arrived a season of comparative rest from active toil a season highly favorable to the improvement oi the mind. It is n<>t, however, of winter days that we are about to discourse, but rather of winter nights. It is true, there is r.o lack of poetry in the former subject, with which to adorn an essay; for, despite the gloom that is connected with our ideas of winter, it is a most picturesque season—and not half appreciated by the race of poets —as a theme for imagination and song. As Braiucrd beautifully says: . “ The dead leaves strew the forest walk, r And withere l are the pale wild flowers; The frost hangs blaek'ning on the stalk— The dew-drops fall in frozen showers but, notwithstanding this lamentation, every feature of the scene which the poet describes is, in thehigh est sense, poetical—morally beautiful—from the na ture of the lessons it reads to the reflecting mind. Rut we have already said that winter, per sc, is not our present theme ; and we therefore address ourself to the less expansive topic of winter-nights ! The very first thought that suggests itself is of those beautiful lines of Cowper in his Task: “ Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast— Let fall the cm tain, wheel I lie sola bound : Anal while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each So let u - welcome peaceful evenin'* in.” < ‘li, happy hours of social and intellectual enjoy m uit! —w ho does not love your return, and welcome j whiter for your sake ! The delights of the fire side are to us among the dearest joys of life, and we he. si- 1 tate not to say, that he who does not find a charm in sucdi pleasures i osscsscs a perverted taste, or is the victim of m'sfortunes that do not often befal Life’s pilgrims. The long winter-nights are eminently fitted for tho indulgence of those tastes, and the cultivation of those powers of mind, which we call the intellectual The world, with its busy cares and its consumin'* toils, loses its jurisdiction at the threshhoid of home” and within the hallowed light of the “ ingle side ” sordid calculations should not profanely intrude.— “Sacred to heart and mind,” should be written up on the walls of the family parlour—and, true to the spirit of the inscription, each one admitted to the sanctuary should contribute every thing in his pow er to advance the happiness of all! At these peace ful “ reunions” of the family circle, how delightful ly nnd swiftly would the long hours pass, if sue h were the ease. Who has not read, and, reading admired the following exquisite description of sucha scene 1 “ Rut here the needle plies its busy task, The pattern grows, the well depicted flower, Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn, ’ Unfold- Its bosom ; buds, and leaves, and sprigs And (urling. tendrils, gracefully disposed, Follow the nimble fingers of the fair: ’ A wreath that cannot fade, or flowers, that blow With most success when all besides decay. The poet's or historiun’s page by one Made vot'd for th ’ amusement of the rest; The sprightly lyre whose treasure cf sweet sounds The touch from many a trembling chord shakes out- And the clear voice symphonious, yet distinct ’ And in the charming strife triumphant still : Beguile the night, and set a keener edge On female industry—the threaded steel Flies swiftly, and unfelt the task proceeds.” And what are the simple elements that ingenious ly combined produce an effect so exquisite and charming ’ Reading, instrumental and vocal mu sic, and the graceful accomplishment of embroide ry ! Yet, how seldom is such a fairy scene realized? And why 1 We answer, because both reading and music arc too generally neglected among us; and even where the latter is practised, it is rather as an exhibition of‘the ln<t quarter's improvement’ than as a means of social happiness. Oh. how fatally do they err, who neglect the sour ces of pleasure and profit which books so freely and richly open to them! How sinfully do they abridge, by their own negligence, the sum of happiness which God allots to .hum, and circumscribe their means foi promoting the well-being of others—in which, perhaps, more than in any thing else, consists the truest and highest enjoyment of life. What do we nut owe to books 1 They are, indeed, “a part of man’s prerogative; In formal ink they thought and voices hold;” and, as one of the most eminent writers of the ugo has fitly said— ” ine I’ast but lives iu words: a thousand ages Were blank, if books had not evoked their ghosts, And kept the pale, unbodied shades to warn us From flcshlcss lips.” But why enlarge upon a theme so self-evident as tins ? Me would that there existed among us such a taste lor reading as would enable us frequently to . ee the counterpart ot the felicitous picture of Cow per: then might we, catching the enthusiasm of the Sabine Lard, who sang of lar inferior hours : “0! evenings worthy of the gods;” but, with a loftier perception of the value of such,as we have described, adopt the language of the poet already quoted: “ Oli! evenings, I reply, More to be prized and coveted than your s, As more illumined arid with nobler truths — that I,and mine, and those we love, enjoy!” If we have succeeded in investing our theme with interest to our readers, we shall not have writleu ia vain. £ljc American s3crtoMcal Eucss. Godey's Lady's Book, for December. This number completes the thirty-seventh volume of the Lady’s Book, a much longer period of exist ence than it is the fate of most Magazines to attain. Nor does its energetic proprietor seem to “grow weary of well doing.” On the contrary, ho gives promise for the future of excellence hitherto unfit tained—of novelties more than ever attractive. The patrons of the La ly’s Book will have confi dence, mo-cover, in his promises—for he does no* fail to perform, as this last number of a year abun dantly proves. Among the embellishments of the December issue is a ‘counterfeit presentment oi the face of a young lady who Ins figured exteiisi vc ” ly in th * Magazine worl l as “ Grace Greenwood one of those alliterative nomtnes deplume, which are more fashionable than sensible —always except ing that of Fanny Forrester. Our Northern con temporaries have, some of them, exhausted then” vocabulary of praise to describe the genius ot “Grace Greenwood,” whose head is in great (hu ger of being turned by their indiscriminate flattery- Mr. ( iodey avails himself of her present popularity to swell the attractions of his Magazine; and hence forth she is to be one of the editors—of whom we are glad to see that Mrs. Ilale continues first- 1” her hands the Lady’s Book must be worthy of name and favor. Subscribers should renew at once their subscrip tions, and those who design to take the Book lor