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Hlje tSeorgirt lleittperttttce $ rneiuSiT.
JOHN H. SEALS,
HEW SERIES, VOLUME 111,
£|}t Ctmptranct Crnsater.
Published ©very Thursday in the year, except two.
f EB3IB J Twt DoUXn per yoar ta adveec*.
<xatnifc> xfinosta
Cura* or Tar Nam*s, by sending the Cass,
will receive the paper at .... sl36s copy.
Cutm or Five Names, at 180 “
Any person sending os Five new subscribers, inelo
wing the money, shall receive an extra copy one year
4>ee of cost.
ADVERTISING-DIRECTORY;
Bates ei Advertising:
} equate, (twelve lines or lees,) first insertion, $1 60
“ Each continaance, 6®
Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding si*
Haes, per year, * 00
Announcing Candidates for Office, <* 00
Standing Advertisement*:
pgf Advertisements not marked with the number of
insertions, will be continued until forbid, and charged
aoeordingly.
pSf'tA. erchants, Druggists and others, may eontracf
for advertising by the year on reasonable terms.
legal Advertisements:
gale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators, Ex-
eeutors and Guardians, per square, 4 00
Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Ex
ecutors and Guardians, per square, 8 23
Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 25
Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00
Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm'n, 500
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guard'p, 3 25
Legal Requirements :
Sales of Land and Negroes by Administrators, Exec
utors or Guardians, are required, by law, to be held on
the First Tuesday in the month, between the hours of
tea in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the
Court-house door of the county in which the property is
situate. Notices of these sales must be given in a pub
lic Goantte, forty dm y* previous to the day of sale.
Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given
at least ten days previous to the day of sale.
Notices to Debtors and Creditors of an estate, most
he published forty day*.
Notioe that application will be made to the Court of
Ordinary, fjr leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be pub
lished weekly for (tee mouths.
Citations for Letters of Administration, most be pub
lished thirty days —for Dismission from Administration
monthly, six months—for Dismission from Guardianship,
forty days.
Buies for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be published
for four months —for compelling titles from Ex
ecutors or Administrators, where a bond has been issued
by the deceased Me •V <ut °f month*
pa- a l wa X s be continued according
to these, the legal rec’^ irem6nt8 ’ unlesß otherwise or
dered. TOftW A REYNOLDS, Publisher —
OFFICERS GRAND LODGE aO^JEWCHO.
TERM OP OPPICE DATING PR * rtm IBST.
W. D. WILLIAMS, of Oxford, £W C
THOS DOUGHERTY, of Macon, O W V C
WM. G. FORSYTH, of Atlanta, W Ree
WM. F. ROSS, of Macon, 2 w a
LEE STRICKLAND, of Griffin, GW 8
H. C. CARTER, of Calhoun, G W Chap
E. M. PENDLETON, of Sparta,_OWP£—
Important, if True!
liSSSr* A LL NOTES & ACCOUNTS
if WsfSSjff due the firm of PHELPS Sc
VHHBm SEALS lor the year 1856, not paid
by the 15th MARCH, will be sued
INDISCRIMINATELY.
Feb 18, 1858 ,
THE |
Georgia Educational Journal,
the TEACHER'S FRIEND and PUPIL’S ASSISTANT,
PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN QUARTO FORM,
in FORSYTH. GA. at $2 00 for one year, or $1 00
for 6 mo.
Every
in Georgia ought to have this paper.
Address
‘Georgia Educational Journal,’ Forsyth, Ga.
GEO. F, WILBURN, M. D.
Editor.
Feb 18, 1838 Ij’
DRS COE &. LATIMER would inform their friends
and patients that one of the firm will constantly
‘remain in Gresnesboro’, and that the other will be found
iu the following places at the times specified below:
White Plains, from March Ist to March 14th.
Mount Zion, “ “ 15th to “ 28th.
Oxford, “ April 12th to April 25th.
fenfield, “ A to May 9th.
As thie time table will be strictly adhered to, those
who eall early will be most likely to receive attention.
Feb 25th, 1858
• Look-~Every body.
THE undersigned having leased the STORE
ROOM recently occupied by Williams Jt Lank*
tors are now receiving and opening a Choice and Select
STOCK of—
v ‘ ULT GROCERIES
A VRUITS, CANDIES, CIGAR#,
v EATABLES, Ae. See. Ae.
.. .• of the Citizens of Penfield and vicinity,
b&33£s< “ ,bis E*‘WUhu,c, lt . W.
CwiMaam
.od intend ,n o.k. it to the .>“*“<’ ° f •* •
times. J. M. BOWi.
Penfield, Jan. sth, 1858.
NEW BUSINESS.
\SkyililOQ. CS3enapc&o
rpHE subscriber, having no engagements, is
A ready to receive any offers to sell goods or keep
books for any mercantile house or houses in Georgia, or
to receive any offers from capitalists in the line, who
may wish an energetic man to buy and sell and attend t
to the details. Any letters worthy of attention will be
replied to. Address W. S. BAGBY.
March 4~4t
A PINT. LOT OF YELLOW IRISH-POTA
xjL TOES, for planting. Call on
Feb# J. M. BOWLES.
rpHE FIRM OF J. M. BOWLES & CO. IS THIS
A day dissolved'by mutual consent, Wm. B. Seals
retiring. The business will be continued by J. M.
Bowles at the same stand, where he will keep, at all
times, a foul supply of Family Groceries, and will be
ready and. willing to aerve his friends at very Short Pro -
Jiujor the CASH. J. M. BOWLES,
Feb 25 WM. B. SEALS.
Georgia, greene county.—whereas
Nicholas M- Jones applies for Letters of Adminis
y- tration upon the estate of Jesse S. Jones, late of said
eounty, deceased;
These art therefore to cite and admonish, all and sin
gular, th kindred and creditors of said deceased, to be
and appear at the Court of Ordinary, to be held in and
for aaid county, on the first Monday of April next, to
ehowekus# (If any they have) why said letters should
M’fih 4,1859 3®d
[/ EDITRESS’ \\
I v oU><&apgkaf*anEffiLqCQ<lq JJ
. By Hn, n. B. Bryan.
UDMNBT.
rv KA&V S. BSTiS.
‘Tie tha midnight hour,
And the storm clouds lower,
LUu a pall on the brow of night,
And the winds go by.
With s rushing cry,
As though triumphing in their might .
There's a sound like the roar
Os waves on the shore;
‘Tie the voiee of the wind-swept pines,
Like troops atund they,
In martial array,
Sternly braving the stormy wind*.
Oh! silvery fair
Through the perfumed air
Falleth faintly the soft moonlight;
But give me the clond,
And the tempest loud.
And the gloom of the rayless night.
My heart beats high,
As the winds sweep by.
In their wild, mad revelry
I shall free my soul
From its old eontrol;
To-night shall my spirit be free.
At least for this hour,
I can scorn your power—-
Oh ! mocking, yet beautiful dream
Your flowery ehain
Ye shall weave in vain—
Frailest gossamer bmd thy own.
For, up and bwrj,
Where the lightnings play.
Fancy mounts in her reckless flight—
From my watching eyes,
Soft slumber flies,
And my soul shall be free to-night.
Thomasvills.
THE HAUNTED BKVBJB.
BY MABT B. BBVAN.
Far down where the shadows most gloomily foil
And the wizard winds ars wailing;
Where the willows droop like a funeral paU,
And the long, gray moss is trailing;
Where no flower may bloom, and no bird may sing,
But a silence broods forever.
Save when the Vulture flaps his dark wing
Or the gloomy death-owls shiver;
Far down in this lonely valley of shade.
Where the ghostly moon-beams quiver.
Sullenly, sluggishly through the guide,
Floweth the haunted river j
Moaning like one In a troubled dream,
As on its black tide floweth—
And a legend wild, of this haunted stream,
The way-side peasant knoweth;
A story that tells of a former time
When ita waves were bright and golden.
And its dancing feet kept merry rhyme
With the birds in the forest olden.
But one night, the shuddering stars turned pals
At a deed of guilt and horror;
And the waning moon, in a cloudy veil.
Hid her pallia face in sorrow.
There was one low moan, deep and prolonged,
And a voice was hushed forever—
And a trusting heart, betrayed and wronged.,
Lay cold ‘neath the forest river, ~
And the stain that its waters still retain
Is blood, and the blood ia human—
And the moan that it echoes again and again,
Is the cry of a dying wokirh.
But the murderer fled with his erimsened hands.
And no vengeful foot pursued him—
And he wandered away to distant lands.
And the smiles of fortune woo’d him.
But the vengeance of God is just and true,
And sleeping, or waking ever,
A spectre, with wounds of erimson bus,
Haunted his thoughts forever.
Amid crowded marts, or pleasure's whirl,
Though he well and bravely bore him,
The faee of that wronged ana murdered girl
Rose fearfully before him.
And onee, at the close of a night of storm.
At dawn a forest ranger
Discerned on the shore, the lifeless form
Os a pale and dark-haired stranger.
They put baek the loeks of raven hue,
Still wet with the chilly water —
And a gray-haired man among them knew,
The betrayer of his daughter.
From his distant home, from the smiles of love.
By that haunting spectre driven,
He had eome at length, to this spot to prove,
How true the vengeance of Heaven.
He sleeps on the bank of that lonely stream.
Where the breezeleaa poplars auiver—
Where falleth the star-light’s pallid gleam.
And mo&neth the haunted river.
Thomasville.
LEAVES FROM THE DIARY OF A BRIEF
LESS BARRISTER.
BY MARY B. BRTAN.
Jfev, 80m.
To-dat i a my birth-day. Twenty-one years this
bright winter morning since I entered open
the stageof being, and juatsix months since I went
through that neseasary formula (which by the
way is an egregious humbug) of admission to the
bar, and obtained permission to write my name,
“Thomas Jenkins, Attorney at Law.” My father
intended me to be his assistant in the little form
of a few hundred hereditary acres, but my mo
ther was more ambitious. She was persuaded
that I was the genius of the family, and felt as
; that a higher destiny awaited me. When
did a determined woman fail in accomplishing
her purpose!.and accordingly, my father was
forced to yield, and I was sept away to gain a
smattering of Latin, preparatory to the study of
law.
After my ad#isWM>h to the bar, Judge I^-—,
who presided at the time and who patronises all
fledglings of his profession, roiunteored a bit of
timel/ advice.
“My dear young fellow” he began, “you have
j now entered upon a path which I need not
‘ail you you will not find strewn always with
* However, once manage to gain a reputa
tion anJ 1 the battle is won. After that, if you
commitbl nn4 * w and mak * B ° rry *P e * che#
will b. - P* rfe *>[ T"!’.*** “ and
erery ow you J* m you,
feyor
will let you into on. or .**<> h *
sion. There i only on. ‘b-luWjr qm
•a a ‘ ...a • * **} brass, you will
site to success : that is, cuswraru. • <
find, is as necessary to a lawyer, u *
woman. Put on a consequential face
vate a business-like air. Talk largely oev'**
ally (where you are not well known) of my t.
ents, Messrs. A and B, and of the “case of E verm
F,” and during a session of court, hurry up
aid down street with an air of importance and
a roll of tape-bound parchments under your arm,
no matter if they be blank. You understand me
I see” he continued catching my smile; “Weill
well 1 I've no doubt yob will do, cnly let number
one and nilduperandum be your mottoes.”
Knowing that a prophet is without honor in his
Qwn country, I removed to the village cf Pineville
and tendered my legal eenriem to the publie
| through the columns of tho Ptncvfflt flss/rf, itwock*
i ly thumb-paper filled with stale aneedotes and
thb adopted organ of ale the temperance organizations in the state.
PENFIELD, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 1858 .
misprinted doggerels, and retailing under the
head of “news of the week” all the gossip of the
village: the horse races, chicken fights, street
riots, deaths and marriages. During my six
months’ residence in this delectable village, I re
ceived two oases. The-first, a suit of Scruggs vtr-’
stu Simpkins, in which the former accused the
later of feloniously abstracting a ham from his
larder. I was oounsel for the defendant, and I
made quite a pretty oase of it; I thought
first of making a bould coup and establishing an
alibi, but finally relinquished the design, fearing
that it would not be appreciated, and contented
myself with proving the innocence of the ac
cused by, what I considered, a chain of incontro
vertible evidence.
Unfortunately, my brilliant arguments were
rendered futile by the prosecuting counsel bring
ing forward a witness, who testified that he had
dined with the accused the day succeeding the
night of the theft, and that he actually had a ham
for dinner: “ and this,” commented my oppo
nent triumphantly, “is of course proof positive of
his guilt; for you know, gentlemen of the jury,
that the accused never owned a hog in his life ;
and as for purchasing a ham, you are quite as
well aware, that if there had been a dime in his
possession, it would have been exchanged at
Brown’s for a glass of grog.
Whereupon, the counsel for prosecution ar
ranged his wig with an air of great complacency,
the jury agreed unanimously, the olerk waked up
his honor the Judge, who had himself been im
bibing two freely at Brown’s, and informed him
in a whisper that the case had been decided in
flavor of the plaintiff, upon which the dignified
functionary solemnly nodded his head and the
suit was dismissed.
And so I lost my first casein Pineville. My
next promised to be more important. It was re
ally out of the common line—decidely romantic.
I was employed as counsel for the plaintiff, in a
suit of breach of promise, and had prepared (in
my own opinion) a most eloquent and convinc
ing speech for the occasion. I labored assiduously
and arranged, to my own infinite satisfaction, the
exordium, explication,argumentative and pathetic
partp, concluding in a heart-moving peroration,
with an affecting appeal to the honor and chi valryof
men in behalf of defenceless woman, and a touch
ing allusion to the youth', beauty and innocenco
of my fair client, (who by the way I intended
advising to keep down her veil.) In pursuance
of Dean Swift’s plan, read it aloud to my office
boy, and at ita conclusion, I am confident his
eyes were red with lachrymal indications, (though
stow lam not positive that they were not occa
sioned by sleep, as I observed him bow his head
rather too low for me to flatter myself in
tended as a nod of approbation.)
However, I looked forward with sanguine ex
pectation to my hour of triumph but alas l
L’komme propose et Dteu dispose. The day previous
to the one whieh should have established my
reputation in Pineville forever, my client, a red
haired, six feet Amazon, stalked into my office
and pushing forward a small, tallowy, meek-look
ing man, informed me that the matter had been
compromised by a marriage, and that she would
have no need of my professional servioes. Here
was a terrible disappointment! It was as much
as l could do to bow back blandly, as a poor
devil dependant on public opinion for bread and
butter should do. If I had consulted my own
inclination, I should eertainly have kicked the
Amason and her victim down the steps.
I sat down, thoroughly disgusted with Pine
ville and its inhabitants, and on the impulse of
the moment, wrote to any old chum, Jack Wal
thong, who had married several years previous
and settled in T ville, to know if that would
not be a favorable locality for a young man of
my profession. A few days after, I received the
following characteristic note:
My Dear Tom: The very place for you; plenty
of liquor here and of course plenty of riots and
quarrels; and consequently, business for you.
Paek up your and come along by the first
stage. Step with us of course. Want you to see
Elisa and tne boy, (the very image of his Papa
and as fine looking a boy as you will find south
of the North pole ; olever too ; can make an O
as big as a pewter plate, and tell who the Presi
dent is already.
Be sure to come.
Your sincere friend,
Jack Walthong.
So I “packed up my traps,” no great task,
when a common sized earpet-bag could hold them
all, and two days later, found me inT ville, at
the hospitable home of my friend, with his snub
nosed cherub on my knee, Elisa darning stock-,
ings in the eoraer, *nd Jaek himself at his old
trade of cracking jokes and nuts alternately.
Here, if I had yielded to the entreaties of my
generous friend, I should have remained free of
charge ; but poverty and Pineville misfortunes had
not quite broken my spirit; and accordingly, with
Jack as a pilot, I set out to find lodgings, and ac
tually succeeded in obtaining what I thought, from
the description of its owner, must boa perfect
jewel of an office, but which upon inspection turned
out to be a rat-haunted, leaky affair, cheerless in
the extreme. However, a little paint and clean
ing and a set of curtains, furnished by the warm
hearted Mrs. Walthong, effected quite a trans
formation. and at the end of a few days I was
comfortably established in my new locality, with
“Thomas A. Jenkins, Attorney at Law,” flaming
out on ft brass door-plate, instead of upon the
shingle which had served the same purpose in
Pineville.
I find it quite peasant siting here to night,
by the cheerful fire, turning the white leaves of
the Journal that shall contain my life history ;
but I confess my prospeets for the future are not
very encouraging. k This evening, I sat with Jack
Walthong in the little front of porch my office, en
joying a racy Havanna. He had a smile and a
nod for each passer by, and for every third one,
he turned to me and said, par parenthesis, Lawyer
M. or H. Ac. I bad counted nine, and was begin
ning to be appalled.
“Jaok"saidl, “why did you write that this
wae tfie very place for me, and now, I find that
two thirds of the population are lawyers ?”
Hriaughed heartily at my blank countenance.
“The faet is Tom,” he said, “I wanted you
with me, and then, we will have a railroad here
mretty soon*-at least, they have sent on members
enough to pass the bill, and then there will be
work for J*OU all. You will find this place as good
as any. The whole world is overrun with gentle
men of the tape arid parchment profession, but
never mind! look and M though head and
hands were full of business, and above all keep
a stiff upper-lip.”
Nov. 27th. Two weeks have passed since my
removal to t—<—-, and I have been most dread
fully afflicted with mud, that most tiresome of all
diseases, which results from haying nothing to do,
I take my Blackstone and sit in my efflee deer,
reading industriously, or throwing back my hair
and affecting an air of profound meditation;
but all to no purpose. Asa mode of passing
time, I have determined upon resuming what has
always been a passion with me, the study of human
nature. “The proper study of mankind is man,”
and in my humble opinion the mdSt agreeable. I
confess I take a malicious pleasure in detecting
hidden emotions, in analysing disinterested actions,
and looking beyond the smiling face into the
heart, which is the hive where a thousand vanities
and levities are flattering and buzzing. For this
reason, I frequent parties, with their files of
young gentlemen and rows of nice young ladies,
insipid as the blunt mange they eat, with their thir
teen cotillions and two waltzes, their liquid ice
creams and flat champagne.
Jack Walthong has become quite a sober and
respectable citizen, under the influence of his
demure Eliza, and when I asked him to intro
duce me to T ville society, he gravely replied
that they were “divided into two classes, and he
presumed I would wish to associate only with the
quiet and orderly portion of the community; it
would be more consistent with my dignified pro
fession. I acquiesced, and was accordingly in
troduced to half-a-dozen “ quiet” young gentlemen
—a promising young lawyer of literary habits and
rare attainments, and his tall shadow—an ex-ed
itor—now a gentleman of elegant leisure; a phys
ician of the reform practice, and two young M. D.
fresh from Pennsylvania University, who conduc
ted themselves with as much gravity as though
they felt assured that the lives of the whole pop
ulation of the town depended upon their individ
ual exertions.
I went with Dr. B. to call upon a young lady of
his acquaintance residing at the upper part of
town. She was, as Jack Walthong informed me,
the only daughter of a wealthy farmer, and heir
ess of a cool twenty thousand. I found her a
very.amiable young lady, soft as the slumbers of
infancy, with an unmeaning smile and a terrible
sadness of comprehension.
“ Her pulse is calm, milk-white her skin.
She hath not blood enough to sin.”
Knowing myself to be in rather a precarious sit
uation,
“ For Lawyers, they must either starve or plead,
And follow right or wrong where guineas lead,”
I betook myself with desperate resolution to
playing the agreable, exhausted all my powers of
conversation, traversed the fields of literature and
passed most sweeping criticisms on all unfortunate
authors, but only succeeded in eliciting that same
vacant smile, accompanied sometimes by a stare
of surprise. At length I spoke of the new work,
“ Bonaparte and his Marshals.” Her counte
nance lighted v little, and she exclaimed with
considerable animation,
“ Oh, yes! I play the tune, Bonaparte crossing
the Rhine.”
I was effectually silenced; and taking the hint,
I led her to the piano and sat for two mortal
hours, listening with an affectation of delight to
her performance.
This morning, when returning from my usual
saunter down Broad street, I chanced to be near
a handsome, reckless looking young man, who
was criticising through an eye-glass a lady prom
enading the street, with skirts most decidedly
lifted, thereby disclosing pretty bronze gaiters of
Cinderilla dimensions. Now, if I have a weak
ness in the world, it is for a neat foot, and it was
quite involuntarily, that I exclaimed,
“By Jove, what a pretty foot and ankle!”
The handsome young man wheeled instantly
around and looked at me intently for half a
minute.
“You’ll do young gentleman,” he exclaimed.
“We want one more addition to our set, and I
think you will answer. lam Harry Hall, better
known as Harry Hotspur, very much at your ser
vice. I will call around this evening and take
you to a supper with our fellows at my rooms.
We want to show you life, for you look as mopish
as an owl; no wonder we took you for a milk-sop
or a simon pureand with a cordial shake of
the hand, he darted away-to pick up 1 the hand
kerchief of the lady he had just been criticising.
So, to-night I am to find new specimens for my
favorite study among the jolly members of the
“Fast club.”
Nov. 29th. True to his promise, Harry Hot
spur came and conducted me to the back room
of his store upon Broad street, where we found
quite a merry party already assembled around a
table, with cards and wine before them.
“ Jenkins,” said my conductor, after he had
introduced me in an easy, off-hand way to the
half dozen guests, “ you see before you the pillars
of the State, or, I should have said, the pillars of
the town ; for without us the city council would
be minus employment, and the treasury minus
funds—a greater portion of which is extorted
from our pockets under the plea that they are
lawful fines ‘for the infringement of established
rules. ’ Wo are not an organized club ; we pay
no iniatory fee, but we are, nevertheless, a set to
ourselves, and we have a few peculiar regulations,
which I hope you will not find it difficult to abide
by. We drink as much and as often as we
please; drive regular stunners, make love to
every pretty face and swear to stand by each
other in every difficulty, right or wrong. In
short, we have.'Live and let live’ for our motto;
or, in other words,
’ We go for life in all its variety
And do’nt care a fig for the Temperance Society.’
Do’nt look bo horrified, my dear Jenkins 1 We
shall not bind you by oath to do all this; we will
only take you for a short time upon trial. Here,
try a glass of this old Maderia— ‘ rich, rare and
racy—the very elixir of life/ Fill up all—'To
ladies’ eyes around, boys/ ” and he drained the
brimming goblet with an air of infinite gusto.
“ I will drink to that forever,” exclaimed a
?9ice of singular sweetness. “ Heaven bless the
ladies! I feel I love them all.
‘ 1 worship now tho black eyes,
And now adore the blue—
tnon breathe vows to Ida,
breathed last night to Sue.’”
I looked at the speaker, and felt convinced
that I had now found an interesting study. Al
though quite young, he was already blase, and I
recognised him as one of the leaders of the fast
set pointed out to.me by Jack Walthong. In
the course of the evening, I studied him pretty
thoroughly, t found that he coveted the appel
lation of roue, and fancied himself a skilful flirt,
because he had succeeded in obtaining the thread
bare affeotions of certain impressible young dam
sels. He was what girls of the bread-and-butter
age pronounce “fascinating,” and had evidently
sacrificed to the graces and practiced a number
of irresistible ways before the mirror of his pri
vate apartment. And yet, I could not but ac
knowledge there was something peculiarly at
tractive in his There was mere ]
power for good or evil expressed in his counte
nance than in those of all the rest put together.
There could be no medium in him. He would
either be a man of worth and integrity, or he
would make a villain. The others were mere
satellites, revolving around these two central
leaders of dissipation, completely under their in
fluence, and imitating them with an assiduity
worthy of a better purpose. Did Harry Hotspur
invent anew slang phrase, it was ever afterwards
on the lips of his admirers, and they visited their
lady-aoquaintances to “ try it on” with them.
All Harry’s drolleries were imitated; his witti
cisms repeated, while Percy's imprudent manner
and studied fascinations were faithfully copied
and dealt out second wanting
in the'careless grace and happy insouciance of the
original. In fact, Hal and Percy were the two
great Moguls, the ruling spirits of the Fast Club,
and all they suggested, from the pleasant amuse’
ment of barricading the streets to getting up a
perfect stunner ball, was received with unanimous
approbation.
As for Hairy Hall, I found him a complete par
adox—a perfect bundle of contradictions. He
possessed an inexhaustible fund of animal spirits
and a constitution which no excess seems to im
pair, since after a night of wildest dissipation he
comes forth, fresh and bright as though he had
just awakened from the peaceful slumbers of in
nocence.
His mirth sparkles and effervesces like cham
pagne, and his laugh is perfectly irresistible. He
gets into all manner of difficulties and out of them
again with wonderful facility; a word—a quick
blow deciding the matter, and then after he has
taught the offender his “ place,” he is quite ready
to forgive and oiler him the right hand of fellow,
ship. He has always something new on the
ladies and spends his time in coining slang phra
ses and elegant appellations, to express that state
of partial intoxication considered as very manly
by young gentlemen upon whose upper lip the
down of manhood has just been coaxed into ap
pearance. Harry Hall glories in being consul,
ered a “ regular brick.” He conceals none of his
excesses, talks openly of his “ sprees,” and yet, is
not only tolerated, but half worshipped, by young
ladies, who laugh at his impertinences, repeat his
bon mots, and are proud of being driven by him at
rail-road speed to picnic or pleasure excursion.
It was at one of these that I saw him first. For
once, the others had been before him in engag
ing the best turnouts that Guy’s stables afforded,
and were chuckling over their success, when Hal
appeared on the ground with the belle of T
ville, seated in a rickety vehicle, and driving a
couple of shaggy, weasly little mules that looked
as though they might be the identical pair pre
served by our worthy progenitor in his miracu
lous ark. Os course it was a triumph, and Hal
was the hero of the day, the “ break-down” on
his return being the grand coMp d* grace of the
affair.
Such were the new acquaintances to which my
curiosity had introduced me. Not a very prom
ising group, perhaps, but it was pleasanter to
study their individual peculiarities than to sit
in my cheerless office waiting for a brief.
“ I think it is time we had supper; I’m deuced
hungry, myself,” ejaculated a short, stout young
man, whose rubicund countenance and abdo
minal rotundity bespoke him a lover of the good
things of life.
“So I think,” responded Mr. Augustus Mul
lin, a sentimental youth of extreme susceptibility,
whose growth, like that of the mushroom, had
been exceeding rapid, inasmuch as at eighteen
he stands six feet in his pumps. Perhaps some
malicious person might add that the simile of the
mushroom might be extended to the tout en semble
of Mr. Mullins, but tar be it from me to be guilty
of such detraction.*
“ Certainly, we shall have supper immediately,”
said Hal. “ Joe, remove the glasses and bring
on the meats,” he added, turning to one of the
many obsequious servitors who stood grinning
around; for the boys and negroes of T were,
one and all, Harry Hotspur’s huge admirers.
“Now Jenkins,” he continued, laying his hand
upon the cover of the dish, “guess what I’ve
brought you to regale upon.”
“A haunch of venison, probably,” I replied,
looking up from the comic pictures of Harper’s
last, with visions of Goldsmiths and Garrick’s
club Buppers flitting before me.
“ Not exactly;
’Tis a ’possum ; a poet or painter might study—
The fat is so white and the lean is so ruddy.”
Only inhale the aroma, and look how tempting!
’Possum and potatoes forever! The peacock’s
brains of those dunces, the Roman Epicures,
were nothing in comparison. I say Joe, take
away this wine and bring us something stronger.
Here, Jenkins, let me fill up your glass! Here’s
to good fellowship, and I hope you’ll drink it with
a hearty will, for I want you to like our set. I
am sure we expended a deal of pity upon you,
while you were moping around town, victimized
by those old fogies and doing your best to hide
the lightness of your purse. (By the way we
never let that calamity trouble üb, I assure you.)
This is only half our set. In due time, you shall
be introduced to the other and fairer portion.
“ What!” I exclaimed, “ that is contrary to all
club rules. Do you really mean to say that you
have ladies belonging to your party ?”
“ Certainly ; as fine a set of girls as you ever
laid eyes on— regular trumps, every one of them;
but you must know them yourself. What’s the
order of the week, Sandy ?” he continued, turn
ing to the stout young man who, by this time, had
succeeded in .demolishing more than a third of
the ‘possum, and was still industriously at work.
“ A serenade, two parties and a regular blow
up next Saturday night,” replied Sandy, a little
stutteringly, for that old Maderia was very strong,
to say nothing of the brandy smash.
“ Never mind the blow up; that’s our own pri
vate affair; the girls have nothing to do with it.
You shall go to the surprise party next Monday
night, Jenkins, and judge for yourself.”
“ But I am prejudiced against parties,” I ven
tured to say.
“ Nonsense 1” you mean those quakerish af
fairs, with rows of nice young ladies seated on
sofas or pn a line of chairs, chatting most volu
bly, and whenever a male creature approaches
them, drawing themselves up primly, and say
ing ‘yes, sir/ and ‘no sir/ with intense gravity.
Our girls are nothing of the kind; none of the
prude about them; they are full of life and spirit
and wide awake for fun. Eh, Percy?”
Certainly,” responded the Adonis, tossing
back his long hair. “ They are choice specimens,
even in this 4 land of white bosoms and love beam
ing eyes,’ What say you, Augustus? But Augustus
did not reply. - He had bowed his head upon the
table sad slept; but his dreams were pleasant,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
for a stream of wine from an overturned goblet
“ rippled peacefully past his nose.”
The feast was prolonged until a late hour, and
upon its conclusion, Hal was conveyed to bed by
the joint assistance of Percy and one of the sable
attendants, while the fragments of the supper
were seized upon by the negroes, as part payment
for the many odd dimes owing to them for sun
dry small services in the way of holding horses
for the “gents,” mixing gin with their water and
rendering them assistance in sustaining their per
pendicular, when they were in the fashionable
predicament of having “more than they could
carry.”
And so the supper was over, and I returned to
lodging, musing over these strange specimens of
the genus homo , and speculating upon the proba
ble future of the fasfyoung men I had just left.
AMERICAN FEMALE AUTHORSHIP.
BY MART £. BRTAX.
Thb development of a taste .for authorship
among females is of comparatively recent date.
At no remote period a bas bleu was regarded as a
rara avia, and she was a bold woman indeed, who
would thus step forth upon the platform of pub
lic notice, exposed to the shafts of masculine envy
and criticism. A few, indeed, wrote from the
necessities of genius, because the God-given tal
ent would not remain hidden —the spirit harp
would give forth broken music when swept by the
wing of passion, of grief or wrong. In England,
Hannah Moore and Mrs. Hemans, in their two
widely different intellectual spheres, first gave
tone and dignity to female authorship; and in our
own country, Miss Leslie was first to render it a
distinct and lucrative profession—Miss Leslie the
clever satarist, the keen, discriminating writer,
who at first mistook her vocation, endeavoring to
believe it her mission to paint portraits in the
studio of her artist brother. But the pictures
were all caricatures, the pencil was thrown aside
for the pen and Miss Leslie became an authoress
in spite of herself.
Since then, the taste for authorship among our
American ladies has been steadily on the increase
—the needle has found a formidable rival in the
pen and every village newspaper has its quota
of our “ charming correspondents.” Many of
these write, not from the promptings of genius,
but from a vain desire to see their noms des plumes
in print, or perhaps from the want of employ
ment better suited to their ability. They write
crude, unfinished articles, with no redeeming
originality—mere shreds and patches that their
memories or their scrap-books have retained, and
finding encouragement from the too lenient press,
they continue to write thus, without any desire
or attempt at improvement. It is this misplaced
leniency that fosters the brood of flat, insipid and
mediocre writers, who have considerably lowered
the standard of perio lical literature in our coun
try.
Miss Anna Maria writes a poem in the pretty,
gilt-edged album of her friend, in which “child,
hood’s hours” rhyme with “smiling bowers,”
“heart” with “part,” and “friendship’s prayer”
with “forehead fair.” Miss Anna Maria’s friends
commend the poem as the “sweetest thing they
ever read,” and dear Charles, to whose perusal it
is blushingly submitted, pronounces it “superior
to anything that Mrs. Hemans or Mrs. Sigourney
has written.” Forthwith Maria fancies herself a
genius, procures a rhyming dictionary, and under
the poetical pseudonym of “Minnie Mayfield,”
indites her most charming verses iria delicate,
crow-quill hand on gilt-edged paper, and sends
the precious manuscript, tied with blue ribbon,
to the “Weekly Rose Bud.” The Editor, who has
more gallantry than discrimination, publishes the
stanzas with a flattering mention of our “fair cor
respondent,” and a hope that “she will not neg
lect the talents so abundantly bestowed upon
her.”
Aoting upon this advice, and elated with her
success, “ Minnie Mayfield” continues to favor
the readers of the “Weekly Bose Bud” with her
effusions, pouring them forth in one “weak,
washy, everlasting flood.”
Even where they have talent, and perhaps
genius, our young- aspirants for literary honors
are in two great haste to have their names appear
in print—to become, as they fondly imagine, dis
tinguished—for them to attain that success only
to be won by patient study and practice. Pope
says very aptly, that
** True ease in writing comes by art, not chance,
As those move easiest, who have learned to dance.”
A lady once complimented Mooro on the unstu
died ease of his verse, and quoted a particular
couplet which seemed to have flowed from his
pen without effort or previous thought.
“Madame,” replied the poet, “ that very cou
plet you mention cost me a week's labor.” One
of our best female writers, the popular author of
“ Fashion and Famine,” did not venture upon
publication until comparatively late in life.
She had written only for her own improvement
and diversion, until the failure of her husband,
when wishing, with true wifely andwomanly feel
ing to aid him in his struggles, she had recourse
to her pen. The first article written for publica
tion, she submitted to the revisal of the best cri
tique and reviewer that America has ever known.
He reviewed it carefully—drew his pen acros
whole sentences and returned it with the advice,
that she would read and study, but not touch pen
to paper in literary composition within a year.—
She was not discouraged—no true genius, who felt
within them “the stirrings of agift divine,” would
have been, at the first failure.
She followed his counsel to the letter; with
what success the whole reading public can testify.
Miss Edgeworth, although in the habit of wri
ting from childhood, published nothing until she
was almost a middle-aged woman.
In one of her late works—the last to which her
father wrote the preface, he “.assures the publio
that my daughter does not write negligently. I
can assert that twice as many pages were written
for these volumes, as are now printed. I maybe
permitted to add a word on the respect with
which Miss Edgeworth treats the public; their
former indulgence has not made her careless or
presuming.”
If our aspiring young writers would observe
something of this modesty and respect for the
publio, we should find fewer half-finished pro
ductions crowding the columns of our periodicals.
MARIAN EDGELY.
The conclusion of our novellette with the abova
title, will appear in the next issue of this paper.
it menu
jflTWhyis a loafer in a printing efiSee Hite A
•hade tree?
Because we are glad whan he leaves.
VOL. XXIV. NUMBER 8