Newspaper Page Text
Iterance Crusader.
-i
PENFIELD, GEORGIA. _ j
THURSDAY’ MORNING, -APRIL 1, 1658. j
New Advertisements* teffal Sales, &c.
Read under ihe head, “New Business.” this week, ,
on first side, various important County sales, &c. &c.
\V. R. Hunter.
Our friend Hunter, the “fchildrens’ friend,” has
“turned up” again, (as Mr. Mkawber would sav,) and
his numerous friends will find in this issue some inter
esting jottings tff his-travels. We are happy to hear
from him again.
our Bachelor Editor • hinder* Rubbed.
Our poor old bachelor associate, whose muse sings
on the opposite page, having taken occasion in an issue
or two preceding the present, to speak discourngingly
oi matrimony, “teething children,” &c. a fatr lady of
superior mind end literary attainments, under the nom
deplume, “Little Dorrit,” “strings” his honor upon a
pole and “ sorter ” takes the bark off him.
Qldafield School in Georgia Thirty 1 ears ago.
Wc cannot forbear giving space in our columns to the
spicy, natural and ucll written story of an “ Old-fiold
School in Georgia thirty years ago,” which we com
mence publishing this week, and will conclude in the
succeeding number. W T e learn that it was written by
a native Georgian, and we would be happy to learn his
name. It is well told and will interest all classes of
readers.
Marching to the Penitentiary.
The last Superior Court of Sumter county sent three
delegates to the Penitentiary, viz : Ivey, ior forgery,
sentenced to eight years imprisonment; another for
stealing a negro, was sent for six years, and Avery for
assault with intent to kill, sent for seven years.
Putnam Court sent two, viz: Rainey alias Buckhal
ter, arraigned for horse stealing, was sent for five years.
Pool, fpr negro stealing, was sent for seven years to the
same institution.
The Sparta Georgian of the ult. says : “ A ne
t;ro woman belonging to Prof. Sasnett was brought to
jail last week undercharge of attempting to poison the
overseer, Mr. Hartwell Scott and his wife. Our in
formant states that each of them drank a sip of coffee in
which such large quantities of blue stone had been in
serted that they detected it instantly. The woman im
plicates her husband as the instigator to the foul deed;
he, however, has mnde his escape. ..Planters should be
careful in using blue stone with their wheat, (now a
common practice,) ns it affords evil-disposed slaves to
get in their possession a virulent poison. This is not
the first case that has occurred in tiiis county of a sim
ilar character.”
Don’t wear Dirty Clotlica.
Every domestic wife likes to have her sheets, coun
terpanes, bed-quilts, pillow-slips, table-cloths, towels
and such like look clean and nice. She also delights in
seeing her children and husband neatly clad; the fast
coquette and the starchy dandy love to see their ‘ beau
ideals and honnie lassies cleanly and tidy in their rig
ging; and where is the man or woman, married or sin
gle, who is not almost tempted to massacre their wash
er-woman when their clothes are brought in, week after
week, only half cleansed, and with buttons paddled into
pieces ; or where is the house-keeper who does not hate
to see her domestic fabrics rubbed and scrubbed full of
holes? We earnestly commend all such toW. L. Al
friend & Cos. of White Plains, in this county, who man
ufacture and sell Brown’s Jlotary Washing Machine.
This is the great desideratum, invented especially to
accomplish the ends and to heal the family difficulties
enumerated above. See their advertisement and relia
able certificates on first page.
Correspondence—Pliitip S. White.
Springfield, S. C., Feb 10,18.58.
To the Editor Charleston Courier :
The inclosed interesting letter from Philip S. White,
ns well as a previous correspondence with F. D. An
derson, of Maryland, with the remarks of the editor of
the Spirit of the Age, I desire you to publish in your
widely circulating paper.
They wiJI be giad tidings to many in your city, as
well ns in other parts of the State.
For Philip S. White was an early and devoted cham
pion of temperance. Ho traveled and lectured much.
In your city his unrivalled eloquence and wit was lis
tened to by hundreds in 1852.
I have had much opportunity to know White, and I
believe him to merit the good wishes and welcome oi
every friend of temperance in our broad land.
His letters speak for themselves, and will touch a
chord of sympathy in every generous heart.
Your Friend,
John Belton O’Neali,.
Philadelphia, February 3d, 1858
Dear Sir :—Your kind letter of the 25th ult., is be
fore me, and it seems to rebuke me for not having sooner
answered it. It merits the imputation of a want of
courtesy, yet I have an excuse to offer for it, which your
generous heart will no doubt gladly accept. The too
hasty action of the Division by which my connection
with it was dissolved, so irritated me, that T determined
never again to seek admission into the Order; and, no
doubt, 1 would have executed my purpose had it not
been for the interest which your letter conveys. I had
tio sooner perused its contents than I repented of my
determination, and resolved to resume the position
from tvhich I had dispensed innumerable blessings,
and by which I had myself been blessed. I hastened
accordingly to my old Division—“ Hope Division”—
that, under the aigis of its talismanic name, and in a
placid haven of its bright sea of happy influences, I
might east anchor and ride in safety for the remainder
of my life. To await the gratification of this desire,
which was consummated on last evening, is the excuse I
offer you for not sooner replying to the expression of
your generous sentiments.
You desire mo to present your kind regards to my
wife and daughter. To my daughter I have mentioned
your civility; but, alas! my friend, to my wife that
message can now only be borne by some winged mes
senger of the spirit land. It was the long and weary
vigils around her dying couch that led to that impair
ment of my health, for which stimulants were recom
mended; and, for the use of which, my Division no
doubt, thought it right to strike my name from the roll
of its members. Upon the occurrence of iliose two
events, I became alike indifferent to the claims of the
Order and the clamors of my enemies. ‘There is a de
gree in misery which, when harshly dealt with, drives
the victim oftener to rashness than to reason. Such at
least was its effects on tne. But let that pass; used to
abuse, I have grown patient under it. Reason, at all
events, i; now in the ascendant—Memory seeks to drop
a safe veil between the present and the past—Hope is
pointing to an unerring future—and Philip is himself
again.
I deeply sympathize with you for the death of your
excellent daughter. The extinguishment of “this light
of your house” throws a peculiar gloom around your
hearthstone, in as much as she was the only one to call
you father; but she has left behind her eight lesser
lights, who by imitating a mother’s virtues, will no
doubt irradiate that gloom, and bring that wonted halo
o! jov—partially at least—back lo heart and home.
Death, under any circumstances, is a sad visitor to the
family circle, for whatever may be the preparation for
his approach on the part of the relatives of the object of
Ins visit, an indescribable desolation of the heart will
arrest his presence, and nn agonized memory willawait
upon his departure. I speak experimentally, for how
deeply I have thus felt for like ravages upon my own
household, my heart only can describe. Had I more of
that Christian philosophy for which you are so emi
fiently distinguished, I might feel less acutely such an
infliction. But my nature has not been sufficiently
turned that way—reason, with her cold finger, points it
out but the melting heart will not profit by this lesson.
One might suppose that these afflictions were severe
enough, yet my enemies as if to pile Pelion upon Ossa,
are seeking in many of the Southern prints, to wound
more deeply still. I am charged by them with hav
ing been rescued from drunkenness by the temperance
reform, and with having fallen back into the fataUbyss
agdin. I need not say to you that such attacks are as
ungenerous as they are untrue are as
I never was a drunkard in my life-never could be
one. My whole mental economy revolts against the
vice, and my physical constitution forbids it °
tome that my own beloved South, where I expect Tet
to live and die, has been the theatre of all the VetfiSr
against my career of benevolence. Well, but let that i!£
|- Though greatly mortified by il, I have bmei”
lence enough to overlook and forgive it.
Write me soon, and fail not to place me foremost
among your friends and admirers.
Yours, &c..
Philip S. AViiite
Hon. John Belton O’Neali.
To a Drunken Husband.
I loved thee with a love untold,
And when I stood beside
Thy noble form, I joyed to think
I was thy chosen bride.
They told me, ere I was thine own,
How sad my lot would be;
I thought not of the future, then- —
I only thought of thee.
I do not blame thee for thy lot,
I only pray for thee;
That thou tnaye’st from the tempter’* power—
P> joyful thought! be free ;
A hat thou mayc r st bend above my grave,
With penitence sincere,
A i d . f °ln h ® br ° ken ‘Ported one
Let fall a sober tear. ,
An Old Field School in Georgia, Thirty Year*
ago.
FIVE CHAPTERS OF A HISTORY —BY PHILEMON PERCH.
CHAPTER I.
‘‘Books!" —There is nothing at all terrible in this
simple word. On the contrary, it is a most harmless
word. It always suggests quiet and contemplation;
and though is is true that books do often produce agita
tions in the minds of men and in the state of society it
self, sometimes even effecting great revolutions therein,
yet, the simple enunciation of the word, it would seem,
would never be adequate to the production of the smallest
amount of excitement; and, as little would it appear in
looking upon it from almost any point of view at which
one could get oneself, to be capable of allaying excite
ment, and causing instantaneously the most perfect
stilness. I never could exactly tell why (I, Philemon
Perch, who ant about to devote five chapters to the re
cording of a few incidents which transpired one forenoon
in a country school house, in Georgia, thirty yearsago,)
I say, I never could tell exactly why it is, that, a9 often
as as I have thought of the old custom in England of
reading during the progress of a riot, the Riot Act, und
began to wonder how in the name of common sense, it
could quell a riot, my mind has as often recurred at once
to the scenes I am about to relate, and admitted, but re
luetantly, that the reading of the act aforesaid might be
about as proper a thing as could be done on such an oc
casion—for there was one point of view, or rather a
point of hearing, from which one could obrerve the last
mentioned phenomenon, occasioned by tire enunciation
of this word twice a day for five days in a Avcek. It
was the word of command with which Mr. Israel. Mead
ows was wont toannounce tothe pupilsof the Goosepond
school house the opening of the school, morning and af
ternoon.
The Goosepond was situated in-one of tiie counties of
Middle Georgia, on the edge of an old field, with origi
nal oak and hickory woods on three sides, and on the
other a dense pine thicket—through this latter there
went a path, which led to theschool house, from a neigh
boring planter’s house, where Mr. Meadows boarded.
The school house itself was about one hundred and
twenty yards from the edge of this thicket, at the place
where the path emerged from it.
On a cold, frosty morning, early in the month of De
cember, in the year 1827, about twenty boys and girls
were assembled, as usual, at the Goosepond, waiting
for the master —some of both sexes conning their lessons
and some playing—the boys at bullpen, the girls at
jumping the rope—but all of them, with one exception,
those playingnnd those studying—the latter though the
most eagerly—watching the mouth of the path at which
the master was expected. The studying were the most
anxious. The players seemed to think the game worth
the candle; though the rope jumpers jumped with their
faces to the thicket, and when a boy was about to throw
a ball, lie would run to the corner nearest the thicket,
and looking behind him a moment, would turn his face and
instantly throw in the opposite direction. The students
they walked to and fro before the school-house door, all
studying aloud, and apparently exhibiting the very
greatest anxiety to transfer the secrets of knowledge
which tlicir book contained to their little heads. There
wasone boy in particular, whose eagerness for the acqui
sition of knowledge seemed toamount to the most violent
passion. He was a raw-boned boy, of fifteen years, with
very light hair, and a freckelod face. He wore a round
about, and pants of worn, walnut-dyed, homespun cloth
ragged sealskin cap, and red, coarse brogans, without
socks. He had come up, after nearly all the others had
gotten there—he lived three miles and a half from the
school house, and walked the way back and forth every
day. He came up shivering and studying, and perform
ing both of these apparently inconsistent operations
with great violence.
“ Hallow, Brinkley,” shouted half a dozen boys.
“Got in in time this morning, eh?—ha! ha! Why, you
are too soon, my boy—he won't be here for a quarter of
ahouryit. Come and help us out with the bull-pen.
Now, look at him, won’t you? Got that eternaljogra
phy, and actly a studyin’it, an’he nigh an’ in about
friz. Put the book down, and go an’ warm yourself a
bit; and come and take Bill Jones’ place, it’s his day to
make fires. Come we’ve got the inses.”
This last was addressed by the “one exception” be
fore alluded to —a large, well-grown, square shouldered
boy, eighteen years old, named Allen Thigpen. But
Brinkly Glisson paid no attention tothe invitation, but
came on up shivering and studying, studying and shiv
ering; and just as he passed Allen, announced the fol
lowing proposition :
“ A-an empire is a c-c-country g-g-governed by an
e-emperor.”
Now, ordinarily, the announcement of this proposition
w'ould, one would think, be entirely incapable to excite
any uncommon amount of risibility—it contains a sim
ple truth, and expresses it in simple terms. And yet, so
it was, that Mr. Allen Thigpen burst into a tremen
dous roar of laughter; and, as if he understood that the
proposition had been submitted to him for ratification
or denial answered :
“ Well, Brinkly, ’spozin’ it is. Who in the dickens
said it weren’t? 1 didn’t. Did you, Sain Pate?”
“Do what?” said Sam, pausing in the act of throw
ing the ball.
*• Did you say that a empire wan’t a—what Brinkly
said it was?”
“ A what Brinkly said it was!”
“ A empire.”
“I didn’t hear what Brinkley said it was.”
Allen strode up behind Brinkly, and, looking over his
shoulder, said slowly: “ A country governed by an Em
peror.”
“No, I never said nothin’ about it, nor I don’t kur
nothin about it, neither,” and away went the ball; but
Sam had thrown it too suddenly, after looking towards
the mouth of the path, and he missed his man.
Allen laughed exceedingly at this effort at humor,
but Brinkley did not even notice the interruption; he
walked to and fro, and shivered and studied, he bowed
to the book, he dug into it, he grated his teeth, not in
anger, but in the eagerness to git what was in it, ns he
called it; he tried to fasten it in his head, whether or no
by slightly changing the words and making them, as it
were, his own to command.
“ An-yempirc,” said lie fiercely, but not over loudly,
“is a ke-untry, ge-uverned by an y-vemperor.”
“And what is a y-yemperor,Brinkly,” asked Allen,
and lie laughed again.
“ Oh, Alien, please go way and let me alone. I most
had it, and you’ve put me out, and if I don’t know it,
you know Mr. Meadows will beat me. You know he
loves to beat tne anyhow. Now let me alone; it jist
sorter begins to come to me now, and I could git it,’
and lie went on shivering and studying, and shiveringly
announcing, among other tilings, that “an y-yempirc
was a kc-untry gc-uvcrncd by an y-vemperor,” etn
pasizing each one of the pollysylables in their turn ;
sometimes statingthc proposition slowlyand cautiously,
and rather interrogatively, as if hall inclined to doubt
it; at others, asserting it with a vehemence which
showed it to be his settled conviction that it was true,
and that whoever doubted it, it was plain, did not know
anything at all about the subject.
Allen Thigpen looked at him with a half-pitying,
half-ludicrous expression of face,and turning front him
went up to where a rosy cheeked little fellow of eight
years was sitting on a stump with a spelling book in his
lap, and with a pin in his right hand, spelling and dot
ting every fourth word, after reciting the following :
“Betsy AViggins,
“ Heneritter Bangs,
“Mandy Grizzle,
“ Mine, (dot) A a, 1-i-g-h-t, light—alight.
“ Betsy Wiggins.
“ Heneritter Bangs,
“ Mandy Grizzle,
“Mine, (dot) D-c,dc 1-i-g-h-t, de-light,” and so on.
Allen laughed again.
I, yi, my little Mr. Asa, and ’spos’n Betsy Wiggins
misses her word, ur Heneritter Bangs hern, and Mandv
Grizzle hern, then who’s goin to spell’em'? I want, to
know. And what’ll you give me.” continued Allen,
placing his rough hand with ironical fondness on the
child’s head, “what’ll you give me, not to tell Mr,
Meadows that you’ve been a gittin’ your own words ?”
“Oil, Allen, now please don’t.”
“ What’ll you give me ?”
“ Twenty chesnuts;” and the little fellow dived into
his pockets, and counting out twenty, handed them to
Allen.
“Gotany more?” asked Mr. Thigpen, cracking one
with his teeth.
“Oh, Allen, please don’t take ’em all.”
“Out with ’em, you little word-gittcr.”
Asa disgorged to the last one. Allen ate one or two,
looking quizzically in the child’s face, and then handed
them back to him.
“ Take your Acsnuts, Asa Boatright, and eat ’em. If
I ever git to be as feard of a human, as you and Brinkly
Glisson is of lserl Meadows, drat my hide, if I don’t
believe I would commit sooicide on myself—yes, on my
self—by cutting my own throat.”
“Yes,” answered Asa, “you can talk so? because you
are a big boy, and you know he is afeard o’ you. 11
you was as little as me, you would be as feard o’ him
as me. If lever git a man”—the little fellow was
about to continue, whimpering, but suddenly checking
himself, took his pin, and mumbling:
“Betsy Wiggings,
“ Heneritter Bangs,
“Mandy Grizzle,
Mine,” he resumed his interesting and ingenious
occupation of dotting ever fourth word.
Brinkly had overhead Allen’s taunt ; and closing his
hook, after a pause of a few seconds, he walked straight
up to him, and said:
“Allen Thigpen, lam no more afeard of him than you
arc, nor than lam o’ you. I aint wait’n’ to git a man,
to pay him back for the beatinshe has giv me. Do you
think that’s what makes me stand what I do, you nre
tnich mistaken. Allen I’m a tryin,’ trying’ all thetime
hard to keep down, on mother’s account ; I’vo ,told her
of some o’ las treatment to me; and that I wouldn’t
stand it, and she’s always a cryin’ and takin’ on about
it, and tellin’ me she’s so anxious for me to git a edu
cation, and that this is my ownly chance; and it do
■L U n *E b an in about kill her, if I was to
1 j * 1 ? vo becn a tr yin’ all I could to get the
me , kce P fr°in fightin’ him when he beats
fact i T * t cou ld get era if I had a chance. But the
in thfs lL n ’T l ° n [ U u r ? n ? ugh in rea( J in ’ t 0 a been P ut
to readntrht iia , s J ust P ut me in it before I learn
raphv, ami leant jKjSFSgtX&J&P Si
SS. pay yoUchesnu,s n °‘ to tell him I said so, neL
“Hooraw,” shouted Allen ,
Brinkly.” In a lower tone ; “By^ jingo, I thought it
was in you. I seen yon many a time, when I thinks T
to myself “would’nt take Wh tomakeßrinkley
Glisson fight you, old fellow.” Then, taking him a
little way off, he wWred: “You’ve stood enough
already, and too much too. My blood has biled many a
time, when he s benten you; and I tell you, don’t stand
it no longer. Es he beats you again, pitch in him; try
to ride him from the ingwine; he can maul you, I ex
pect, but look at this,” raising his first, of about the
size of a mallet, “I’m here, and I’m some.” )
Brinkly looked at the big fist and brawny arm, and
smiled dismally.
“Books!’* shouted a voice,, and Mr. Israel Meadows
emerged from the thicket, with a handful of hickorv
switches. ‘ !
In an instant, there was an immediate rushin of
boys and girls into the school-house-all, except Atlen,
who took Bis time, Mnster Asa Boatright was the last
togei in. t- He had changed his position, and was walk
ing, book in hand, apparently all-absorbed in its contents,
though his eye was on the mouth of the path of the !
schoolmaster, whose notice he was endeavoring to at
tract. He walked, though with more rapidity than Al- j
len, with less than the rest—book in hand, bowing, ;
and digging, and diving into it, when he looked up and
seeino- him, suddenly gave one more dive inio his book, j
and darted into the school-hou.se.
H lt was a rule in the Goosepond school, that the schol- ‘
ars should all be in and at their seats when Mr. Mead- 1
OW3 arrived. His wont was to shout “Books!” from
the mouth ol the path, and to walk then with great ra
pidity to the house. VVoc to the hoy or girl who was
ever too late, unless it was Allen Thigpen., He had,
some months before, been heard to say that, “ding any
such rule; he did not intend to break his neck for Israel
Meadows, nor nobody else,” and so was wont to take
his time. If he got in behind the master, which seldom ;
happened, that gentleman was kind enough not to no
tice it, an illustration of an exception to the fine diseip- \
lino of schoolmasters, which was quite common in the
generation in which Mr. Meadows lived and flour
ished.
On this occasion, when Mr Meadows saw Allen,
knowing that thogait at which lie was walking would take
him inside the school-house before Allen could get in,
he halted a little, and taking a step or two, stooped
down and having untied one of his shoe-strings he tied
it again. While this operation was going on, Allen
went in. Mr. Meadows, rising immediately, struck
into a very brisk walk, as if to apologize for his delav,
and then entered into and upon the scene of his daily
triumphs.
CHAPTER 11.
Mr. Israel Meadows was a man about thirty-five or
fort> years of ago, five feet ton inches in height, with a
lean figure, dark complcxidh, very black grizzly hair
and eyebrows, and of a most grim and forbidding ex
pression of countenance. The occupation of training
the youthful mind and leading it to the fountain ofwis”
dom, ns delightful and interesting as it is, was not, in
fact, Mr. Meadows’ choice, when, onarriving at man’s
estate he looked around him for a career in which lie
might probably develop and advance his being in life.
Indeed, those who had been the witnesses of some of
the incidents of his youth and young manhood, and of
the opportunities hchad been favored withal of getting
instruction himself were no little surprised when they
heard that in the county of , their old acquaintance
had undertaken, and was in the actual prosecution of
the profession of a schoolmaster.
About one hundred miles from the Goosepond, in a
neighboring county, was the spot which had the honor
of giving him birth. In a cottage on one of the public
roads leading tothe city of Augusta, there lived a couple
who cultivated a small farm, and traded with the wago
ners! of those days by bartering for groceries and money,
corn, fodder, potatoes, and such like commodities. It
was a matter never fully accountable, how it was that
Mr. Timothy Meadows, during all seasons, had corn to
sell. Drought or drench affected his crib alike, that is,
itdid’nt affect it all. When a wagoner wished to buy
corn, Timothy Meadows generally, if not always, had
a little to spare. People used to intimate sometimes
that it was mighty curious that some folks could always
have corn to sell, while other folks could’nt. These ob
servations were made in reference to no individuals in
particular, but they were generally made by one far
mer to another, when, perchance, they had just ridden
by Mr. Timothy Meadows’ house, having seen a wag
oner’s teem feeding at his camp.
To this respectable couple there had been born only
one offspring, a daughter. Miss Clary Meadows had
lived to the age of twenty-four and had never, within
the knowledge of any of the neighbors, had the first
beau. And, indeed, if to ihe fact that Mr. Timothy
Meadows, her father, always having corn to sell with
out his neighbors, ever knowing exactly how he came
by it, had to a great extent discouraged visiting and
neighboring between their families and his (though it
must be owned, that was not the faith of the Meadows,
who had, repeatedly, in spite of their superior fortune,
shown dispositions to cultivate good neighborhood with
al the families around) —if to this fact be added the fur
ther one that Miss Clary was bony, and in no respect
possessed of charms likely to captivate a young gentle
man who had thoughts on marriage—it ought not to be
very surprising that she had thus long foiled to secure a
husband.
But it is a remarkable thing in—whether physiology or
psychology 1 really do not know which —how often not
only the traits of character and the lineaments of form
ot parents are inherited by their children, but even their
very habits and ways, the good luck and bad luck of
their lives. An instance ol this kind occurred in the
life of Miss Clary Meadows. We have seen how that
her father was wont always to have corn to sell, over
and above what was necessary for the wants of his
family, while, nobody ever knew how he got it. Sur
prising as this was, and unaccountable, it was not the
less surprising and unaccountable when it became gen
erally known in the neighborhood that Miss Clary had
a baby. And yet so it was, and in reference to this
same baby, as how he got there, there has beta no more
definite information —yea, even to this day—than as
how three-fourths of the corn which Timothy Meadows
sold found its way into his crib.
Israel, the baby—another thing uncommon with chil
dren—took the name of his mother. The class of chil
dren of which he was an individual, are wont to have no
names except such as they can acquire by reputation.
Generally, society gives to the young the names of their
fathers: and by good rights, Israel ought to have borne
another name than Meadows, and doubtless he would
have done so, if it had ever been possiblefor him to have
found his father. But if lie ever went out upon that
he failed in the prosecution of it; and so society, being
no more successful than himself, pronounced him, in
legal terms, nullius filius, which was asserting, in so
many words, that he never had had a father, and con
sidering and holding Miss Clary as entirely and solely
responsible for his coming into this world, gave him
her name after he got here.
There were many interesting occurrences in the early
life of Israel, which it would be foreign to the purposes
of this history to relate. It is enough to say that he
grew up under the eye and training of his grandfather,
and soon showed that some of the traits of that gentle
man, descending in the direct maternal line, were in no
danger of being lost to society by a failure of reproduc
tion.
In process of time, Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Meadows
were gathered to their fathers; and Miss Clary, yet un
married, had become the proprietress of the cottage and
the farm. Israel hnd the good luck of the Meadows, to
be always able to sell corn to the wagoners. But un
luckily, the secret of how this wonderful faculty existed
which lay bidden in such profundity in the lifetime of
Timothy, did about six months previously to the period
when he is introduced to the reader, transpire—a cir
cumstance which would induce one to suspect, that in
spite of the declaration of the law, in such cases made
and provided tothe contrary, that there was something
in the blood of Israel which was not all Meadows. A
company of neighbors on patrol, on one Saturday night,
found a negro man issuing from the gate of Miss Mead
ows’s yard, with an empty meal bag. Having appre
hended him, they had given him not more than a dozen
lashes with a cowhide, before he confessed that he had
just carried a bagful of his master’s corn to Israel, and
that without any order from his master. The company
immediately aroused Israel, informed him of what the
slave had confessed, and although he did most stoutly
deny any and all manner of connection with the matter,
they quietly informed him that they should not leave the
premises until they could go and get a search-warrant
from an adjoining magistrate, by which they could
identify, as their spokesman said, the corn. This was
a ruse to bring Israel to terms. Seeing his uneasiness
they pushed on, and, in a careless manner, proposed
that if he would leave the neighborhood by the next
Monday morning, they would forbear to prosecute him
for this, as well as for many similar offences, which they
intimated that they had abundant proof to establish. Is
rael was caught; lie reflected a few moments, and then,
still asserting his innocence, but declaring that he did
not wish to live in any community where he was sus
pected of crime, he expressed his resolution to comply
with their demand, and he left the next day. Leaving
his mother,he setout to try his fortunes elsewhere; in
tending, by the time she should lie able to dispose of the
homestead, to remove with her to the West. But, de
termining not to be idle in the meantime, after wander
ing about for several days in search of employment, it
occurred to him, suddenly, one night, after a day’s ride,
that he would endeavor to get a school, for the balance
of the year.
Now, Israel’s education had been somewhat neglected.
In fact, he had never been a day at school in his whole
life. But he had at home, under the tuition ol'his mother
been taught reading and writing, and a little of geogra
phy, and his grandfather imparted to him some knowl
edge oi figures.
But Mr. Israel Meadows, although not a man of great
learning, was a very great way off from being a fool,
lie had a considerable amount of that wisdom of this
world which comes to a man from many other sources
besides books. He was a man like many others in one
respect. He was not to be restrained from taking office
by the consciousness of parts inadequate to the discharge
ot its duties. This is a species of delicacy which, of all
others, is attended by fewer practical results. The most
it generally does, is to make its owner confess with mod
esty his unfitness for office, with a “he had hoped that
some worthier and better man had been chosen,” and
then to lake it. Israel wisely reflected that with a ma
jority of mankind, the only thing necessnry to establish
for oneself a reputation of fitness for office, is to run
for it and get into it. (A wise reflection, indeed, nnd
acting on which, many men have become great, even in
Georgia, and I doubt not in other places, with no other
capital than the adroitness or the accident which placed
them in office.) He reflected further, and as wisely as
before, that the office of a schoolmaster in a country
schoolhouse was as little likely as any other he could
think of, to furnish an exception to the.rule. And so,
in less than six weeks from the eventlul Saturday night,
with a list of school articles which he had copied from
another list he had picked up in his travels, he had ap
plied for, and had obtained, and had opened the Goose
pond, and was teaching the children reading and writ*
mg at a dollar a month, and arithmetic and geography
at tho advanced price of a dollar and u half.
Thus much must suffice for his biography up to this
morning.
[to be concluded next week.]
The name Teetotalism is said to have originated in
the stammering of a speaker at a temperance meeting,
who declared that nothing w'ould satisfy him butt-total
abstinence. The audience eagerly caught up the pun,
and the name was adopted by the champions of the
cause. Wm*
COMMUNICATIONS.
In a late issue of the Crusader, one of its editors, pre
suming upon his bachelor prerogatives,-lauded to the
skies the felicities of single blessedness; this inveigher
against the sublimated delights ol matrimony, is making
merry over the woes of married men, in a manner cal
culated to rouse the ire of every wedded lord and “ the
noisy clamors of their angry spouses.’
Whilst exclaiming that “the shrieks of a teething
child” would be a relief to his solitude—in the same
breath rejoicing at his freedom from such thral
dom. Does he reflect how often he afforded his mother
this luxury, this exquisite enliveneT of solitude, hisown
teething shrieks ? and how many species ofth o genus homo
he has driven into the lone wilds of bachelordorn by the
display of his swollen gums and the shrill cries issuing
from between, sufficient to produce a re-action upon
the tympanum of a deaf man’s ear ?
Whenever I listen to a man speaking thus slightingly
of the sacred sweets of wedded bliss, methinks he has
solved the abstruse problem, “why Jack couldn't eat
his supper;” and I would, in such a case, unhesita
tingly insure “his expectations ol remaining a bachelor”
until Death had recorded of him—Finis !
He reminds me of a caged bird ; no sooner does one
of his own species draw near to his prison-house, thnn
he mounts his loftiest perch with a flood of gushing mel
ody—flits to his seed-box, picking up the tiny globules
with the relish of an epicure, dipping his bill repeatedly
and most enjoyingly into bis tiny crystal fountain; then
up to his perch, swinging in his ring, again bursting
out in joyous strains. And nil the while, should some
curious hand hut open the cage, just to see if birdie was
so happy as he apparently sremed in his contracted
home, disdaining the very iden of freedom—why, before
the door could swing to the utmost bounds of its hinges,
the little prisoner would have emerged, and in “the
twinkling of an eye,” an empty cage, alone, would be
left to tell the tale of its former occupant.
Likewise, did Mr. Veazey see a sweet maiden’slieart
opened to receive him, staightway leaving the charnel
house of his bachelor joys, filled with the memories of
deceased hopes, he would take “ the wings of the morn
ing and hnsten to roam at large in this eden of the affec
tions, warbling such a song of freedom as to make “the
shrieks of a teething child” but a muffled drum in com
parison. Is he loth to barter away his freedom ? Why
‘tis the married man who is free! free to pour into the
car of his sympathising better half, the trials, fears
and woes of life’s conflict; to feel “sorrow remove at the
touch of her gentle hand to brighten with her blessed
companionship the shady walks of life, revelling with
her in its sunbeams. Free ! to stretch himself mum
this “ torturing rack ofhis soul,” her sweet smiles and
endearing caresses—
“ Oh! not one moment forjoy likethishasbachelcrdom.”
But hasten I must, to pronounce an anathema
Upon this musty, crusty old bachelor !
“ When tired nature’s sweet restorer
Courts his eyelids to pleasant slumber,”
May an army of women—a virago as controller—
Meet round his bedside in ranks without number,
Eeach bearing arms—say an infant just “ teething,”
Which will kindle his wrath to a point about seething.
Mauling with broomsticks, may these monsters of sin
Round his bachelor ears create sucli a din,
The roused cries of infants, so shrill and prolonged
As to leave him to long for but six feet underground.
Little Dorritt.
ZT&'A correspondent from Thomas county reports
himself in a wolul plight. We assure him of our hear
tiest sympathy in his unprecedented chapter of misfor
tunes. A neighbor of bis lately solicited a loan of fifty
dollars, with which request he was unable to comply.
The disappointed applicant went Itis way in high dudg
eon, throwing out the ominous threat that “he would
be even with him.” But we will let him tell the result
in his own words :
He didn’t shoot me—he didn’t challenge me to fight
a duel with pistols, nor invite me to coffee and bowie
knives. I wish he had been satisfied with such a rea
sonable revenge, but he wasn’t, not he ; the blood
thirsty, tiger-hearted, measureless villain, boldly and
cruelly, calmly and deliberately, the conscienceless
monster, sought revenge, and smiled as he sought it.
What do you think he did ? He reported it about, up
and down, far and near, that I— me, Amaziah M. Sniyke,
was a literary ?nan! Well; what was the result?
Since that ill-omened report, I have had no peace of my
life. My sleep is broken and my dinner don’t agree
with me; and daily, I pine and waste away; and unless
you help me I shall soon be a gone Sniyke. We have
in our county-nine hundred and twenty-seven ladies,
aged between nine and sixty-seven, nine hundred and
eighteen of whom write poetry, and all of whom write
something which may be poetry and may be prose.
Well; since the report, every one of the nine hundred
and twenty-seven have tracked me like hungry wolves.
No sleep—no dinner—no cigars—no rest —no peace—
no quiet any more for me. I can’t stand it any longer;
I’ll be confounded if they don’t let me alone if I don’t
hurt somebody; I give ’em fair warning. Only the
other day, a lady (never mind her name—that don’t
matter) sent me five thousand two hundred pages of
foolscap paper, “ being, containing and comprising” (as
her note said) “ her complete poetical works,” with a
request that, “ tlio’ personally a* stranger to her, (thank
the good Lord, so I am.) I would pardon thc'liberty, &c,
(I’ll be hanged if I do.) and criticise these humble effu
sions,” &c. &c. &c, Well; what could Ido ? I criti
cised four thousand and twenty-eight (about half) of her
poems, and was at the four thousand and twenty-ninth
taken with a fit, and afterward with brain fever, from
which lam slowly recovering. Can’t you grant me a
literary Bill of Injunction to restrain ’em, or had I bet -
ter take out a bond for them all to keep the peace ? I
can safely swear they mean to kill me. Look ! here is
a specimen—see how you like it and weep for me :
An Epigram. No. 398. 12. Boor, poor bug on my rug,
jStay awhile, out of doors—
By Mrs Falis the rainy wind blows,
Harsh and cold, you arc old
I love what I love, and what (Perhaps) and might die
I dont. love I dont ; Ilf you went into the sky.
Ido what I do, and what 11 will go, down below
wont do I wont. And bring some cake and
Mary’s my name and Tlio-i some jelly
mas my nation— :For to fill your empty—sto-
A lady by birth and a poet! mach.
by station. TfiomasviUe, Ga.
I dwell with the stars —1
ride on the wind, No. 1023.
And leave all the earth and
the earthy behind. By Mrs
No. B(>.— An Eclogue. Apostrophe to the Ocean.
By—(never uiiml the name.) What meanest thou by thy
never ending motion ?
Ugly bug on my rug, [ pray thee tell me wise and
Lying snug, like a pug, reverend ocean,
Dog or poodle, or a doodle, Why tossest.tuinblest, rum-
Ever chawing, sawing, blest thou about,
gnawing ; And isn’t you feared, you
Ever pawing, clapper-claw- waves will all spill out?
ing,) Your conscience cant be
Like a race nag in a quag. j quiet, so I pray thee
Go—begone ! through the-Confcss your sins, for niur
door, der thou hast done.
Where I’ll see you never-jAnd like to Cain, whoever
more! meets will slay thee,
Get away—go, I say ; Unless you try for murder
My rug’s no place for you! to atone.
to stay. j Thomasville, Ga.
Thus much at present, from SMYKES.
(For the Georgia Temperance Crusader.)
*• He that Write*
or makes a feast, more certainly invites his judges than
his friends ; there's not a guest but will find something
wanting or ill-dresl.” So said Sir U. Howard; but 1
do’nt care the snap of my finger for all that, as write I
will, since I’ve just seen a copy of the Crusader for the
first time since it donned its new dress ; so with my host
bow to John, who so lately learned,
“There’s bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,
When two soul’s are linked in one heavenly tie
(may he have many Seals to thatbljss;) and a slight
inclination of the head to that clever old bachelor “to
be found in another column,” wno, alas, knows not
“ How pleasant is the welcome kiss,
When day’s dull round is o’er;
How sweet the music of the stop,
That meets one at the door,”
not forgetting to tip my beaver t 6 the beautiful Editressr
(my pen tells me she’s beautiful,) I'll essay to give you,
readers some ink-drops concerning my journeyings
since leaving the Empire State, even at the risk ol ex
amplifying
“ llow much a dunce that has been sent to Home
Excels a dunce that has been kept at home.”
To begin at the beginning, on the morning of the
ninth of January last, 1 took my scat in the cars at Rer
zelia for a visit to Mobile to spend a short time, in rest,
among donr -relatives there, and oo the Iligbeo river,
whom I had not seen since childhood's days. After
a most delightful ride upon the rail-road, I arrived at
Montgomery late Saturday night and was met at the
depot by Mr. L. It. Butler, proprietor of the Cremona
House, where I was soon enfolded in the arms of the
“ drowsv-god,” who
“ Winds us np for the succeeding dawn.”
Mr. Butler is a Georgian, and has recently opened the
Cremona House for the accommodation of the travelling
public; and although “anew hand at the bellows.” he
scorns to endorse the sentiment of the poet, who said,
“ The turnpike road‘to people’s hearts, I find,
Lies thro’ their mouths, or I mistake mankind;”
for he provides most bountifully, and that of the very
best. From a palatable experience, I would sav to all
who love eating and a quiet house, give him a
cal).
After a “barber-ous” t operation and other prelimi
naries I, as a matter of course, dropped into the
Sunday-schools on Sabbath morning, where I saw many
“ shining morning faces” and eyes,
i’ Bright as dew-drops when they first descend ;”
and hence, could not resist the promptings of my heart
to talk to the happy Sundy-sehool children of Montgom
ery. Arrangements being [mnde for a union meeting
at the Presbyterian church at 3 o’clock, P. M. at that
hour I had the pleasure of addressing a large concourse
of boys and girls. Having to remain over on Moridny,
I passed a part of the day in listening to the debates of
the people's servants at the Capitol, and svns much
pleased with all I saw and heard. A finer looking body
of men one seldom sees, and their debates were conduc
ted with a dignity jnnd unbanity/in striking contrast
with the scenes ol rowdyism sometimes witnessed in
our National Halls,
“ Fit for the mountains and the barbarous eaves,
AVhere manners ne’er were preached !”
Montgomery lias a beautiful location on a bend of (lie
Alabnrna river, and when “finished,” will no doubt lie
justly entitled to be called the “Crescent City” of the
“ Land of Rest.’ ’ The capital has an elevated site, and
from its front, the eye take-t in a most beautiful land
scape through which the river can be seen winding its
way for a long distance with its silver sheen glittering
in the sunlight, reminding one of the words of Bryant—
“ But thou unchanged Iroin year to year,
Gayly shah play and glitter here;
Amid young flowers and tender grass,
Thine endless infancy shalt pass ;
And singing down thy narrow glen
Shall mock the fading race of men!”
Monday night I again had the pleasure of addressing
the Sunday-schools of the city at the Methodist church,
and, with the promise to give them a series of lectures
on my return, the next day found me “ steaming” down
the river on the “ King,” bound for Selma, where, all
unexpectedly, I dropped in upon a beloved nephew re
siding there. I remained in Selma a few days and
made the acquaintance of the “little folk” and a host of
friends of the Sabbath-school cause at the Baptist
church; but being anxious to pursue my journey, gave
them but one lecture, and left with the promise to call
on my return. Saturday night at half past 8 o’clock I
arrived at Mobile, intending to throw off'the harness at
least for a week to recruit the weary body and cool the
scetliing brain; but from the following, clipped from
the Mobile Tribune, you will perceive “Ala-bain-a”
proved a misnomer in my case. A word about the Cru
sader anil I close for. tiie present, with the promise to
give you some “jottings” about Mobile, New Orleans
and other places I have visited. lam delighted with the
improved appearance of the paper and the new arrange
ment, and also that you have placed the subscription
price at a higher figure; for surely no sane man can
grumble at paying two dollars for a newspaper.
“ Newspaper ! who has never felt the pleasure that
it brings? It always tells ns of so many strange and
wondrous things ! It makes us weep at tales of woe ;
it fills our hearts with mirth; it tells us of the price of
stock; of produce tells the worth ; and when, and where,
and how, and why strange things occur on earth. Has
war’s loud clarion call’d to arms ? has lightning struck
a tree? has Jenkings broke a leg, or has there been a
storm at sea? or has some heiress with her groom run
ofl’to Gretna Green ? All this, and many wonders more,
you from this sheet may glean.” So, reader mine,
“down with the dust” and take the Crusader’, for, as
a gentleman remarked in my hearing but yesterday,
il it is a paper which should be found in every family.”
So mote it be. W. R. 11.
“ AVlicre there is a Will there is a Way.”
The above trite saying has been truly verified the past
week by the indefatigable labors of Mr. W. R. Hunter,
the Sabbath-school lecturer and “children’s friend.”
Air. Hunter arrived in our city a stranger and unheral
ded, on Saturday night, the ICth inst. On Sunday
morning, as his custom is, he started out to visit the
Sunday-schools then in session, and before the hour of
church service, had made arrangements for a union
meeting of the children at the St. Francis Street Meth
odist Church, at 3 o’clock, P. M. when he addressed
them for nearly two hours. Alt present seemed to be
highly entertained and gratified with his lecture, and at
the close an appointment was made for another lecture
at the same place on Monday night. On Wednesday
night he lectured at the Mission Church in the upper
part of the city, and again on Friday afternoon, in the
Second Presbyterian Church. At each meeting he was
greeted with a full house, cvidencingan increased inter
est on the part of the children and adults in his lectures.
Air. Hunter having been persuaded to remain with us
another Sabbath, arrangements were made for another
union meeting at the Third Presbyterian Church at three
o’clock. P. AI. and to one whose heart seems so deeply
interested for the young it must have been a cheering
sight to witness such a large assemblage of children as
greeted the “ Children’s friend” on that occasion.
There was such a large concourse of happy girls and
boys that many of them were compelled to occupy the
gallery. By Air. Hunter's tract in controlling an audi
ence of children, the utmost order was maintained
throughout, and all seemed to listen to his words with
wrapt attention. AVc noticed that some of the children
occupying the front scats became so deeply interested
as to rise to their feet and lean eagerly forward, seeming
ly so much obsorbed in Mr. Hunter’s theme and manner
as to become entirely unconscious of everything else.
Although it is very evident that this noble-hearted
philanthropist is deeply in earnest in this good work, wc
were glad to perceive by his manner of lecturing to
children that lie docs not belong to that class of long
visaged religionists, who
“ AVcar such long faces, just as if our Maker,
The God of goodness, were an undertaker ;
Well pleased to wrap the soul’s unlucky mein
In sorrow’s dismal crape of bombazine.”
lie. However, never seemed to forget the time or
place, and in making a facetious remark, it is evident
to all that it is not his intention to raise a laugh, but
rather to illustrate in a pleasing manner some impor
tant truth; and we noticed often that while a lurking
smile could be seen in the countenances of his hearers,
he would let fall a telling sentence, thrilling with elo
quence and the deepest pathos, causing a death-like
stillness to pervade the entire audience, while many old
and young appeared unable to restrain their tears. His
remarks to the children on the subjects of Faith and
Prayer, at the close ofhis last lecture, will be long re
membered, we think, by all who heard them, and we
doubt not many a little child left the church that day
with an earnest desire to be able, on a death-bed, to ap
propriate the sentiment of the beautiful lines quoted by
the speaker, as sung by the little dying girl whose
death-bed scene Mr. Hunter so beautifully depicted;
“ I want to be an angel,
And with the angels stand,
A crown upon my forehead,
And a harp within my hand;
There right before my Saviour,
So glorious and so bright.
I’d make the sweetest music,
And praise him day and night.”
On Sunday night Mr. Hunter lectured, by request, at
the Bethel on the subject of Temperance, and after a
very interesting address of near two hours in length, he
called for new recruits in the temperance ranks, and
thirty-seven names were soon added to the “pledge,”
thus verifying the words of the poet:
“ The ball is still in motion,
Again it goes ahead;
Its all a hasty notion,
That Temperance is dead.”
Before closing we take pleasure in stating that Mr.
Hunter, on his return from New Orleans, will lectur
again in our city, and we beg to assure him of a hearty
welcome from many warm Friends.
—Mobile Tribune.
Cheap Paint.—ls any of our readers wish to use
a very cheap paint, ol’ a drab color with luster,
let them mix water lime and skimmed milk, to
a proper thickness to apply with a bruslj, and it
is ready to use. It is too cheap almost to esti
mate, and any one can put it on who can use a
paint brush. It will adhere well to wood, whether
smooth or rough to brick, stone or mortar, where
oil paint has not been used, in which case it will
cleave to some extent, and forms a very hard sub
stance as durable as the best oil paint.
FOREIGN NEWS.
_ Hy the Niagara.
Halifax, March 36.—The British and North Ameri
can Royal Alail steamship Niagara, Capt. J. G Wick
man, has arrived with Liverpool dates to Saturdav
March 13th.
Commercial.
Liverpool Cotton Market. -Theaales of cotton for the
week ending the 11th inst., wers 21.000 bales, and all
qualities had declined id togd., in consequence of the
heavy imports.
Provisions and Breadstuffs were reported dull.
General Infelllgnce.
Nothing later had been received from India.
Arrests of persons suspected of being implicated iu
the conspiracy against the life of Napoleon, continue to
be made throughout France.
The appeal oi Orsini, nnd his accomplices, has been
refused. ,
The House of Commons of England met on the 12th
inst. I)’ Israeli announced a satisfactory termination of
the misunderstanding between France and England.
SECOND DISPATCH.
Sales of Cotton, in Liverpool, to speculators 2,500,
and to exporters 2,.i00 bales. The quotations are:
Fair Orleans 7ld. Mid. Orleans 7 9-16 J.
“ Mobile 7fd. “ Moble 7id.
“ Uplands 73d. “ Uplands 7|d.
The stock qji Cotton was 272,000, of which 175,000
bales were American,
The sales on Friday were 3,800 bales, and the market
closed dull.
-Manchester accounts were unfavorable, as there was
but little enquiry for manufactured goods, and prices
were feeble.
Flour was very dull nnd almost unsaleable.
AVheat was dull, but unchanged.
Corn was quiet, but the Brokers’ Circular reports a
slight improvement in prices.
Sugar closed firm, but the inquiry was limited.
Rice was reporter<l buoyant.
Rosin was dull at 4s. 3d. to 4s. fid., and Turpentine
quoted from 11s. 9d. to 425. od.
* Additional General News.
An attempt had been made at Chalons, but it was de
feated, to revive the Republic in France.
A serious riot had occurred at Dublin, between the
Police and College Students, in which five of the stu
dents had been dangerously wounded.
A telegraphic dispatch received in London from Mad.
rid, states that Gen Zuloaga seemed well disposed to
settle the differences with Spain.
The removal o/ Gen. Concha is contradicted.
The few items ol news, by the steamer, telegraphed
above, comprise all pcintsof general interest received
by this steamer.
Later froth California.
New York. Afnrch 26.—The steamship Aloses Tay
lor, from Aspinwall, with late dates from California,
lias arrived.
She brings one million four hundred thousand dollars
in specie.
The Moses Taylor nnd her connecting lines on the
Isthmus and Pacific, have made the quickest trip, from
San Francisco to New York, which lias ever been re
corded.
The intelligence from Coliforrtia by this arrival is un
important.
The legislature has confirmed the disputed titles to
land, in San Francisco, to the occupants.
Gen. M. B. Lamar had been received ns the accred
ited Minister from this country by the government of
Nicaragua. It was believed that the Ycrisari treaty
would here-opened at Washington.
Tlio steamer San Carlos had beer, lost on the Lake.
Vivanco had captured the town of Arica, in Pern,
and one half of the town was destroyed and several hun
dred lives list.
The attempted revolution in Lima had been sup
pressed.
—4ta i >
A Airs. Jenkins, of Mount Savage, Aid., was frozen
to death in her bed a few days ago while intoxicated
She left a family of small children.
Fatal Accident. —AVe learn that a Air. Brawner, a
teacher by occupation, was fatally stabbed on last Mon
day evening, by one of his students only twelve years
old. The circumstances connected with this case are
as follows: While the boys were at play, duringrecess,
Mr. Brawnier heard the little boy making use of profane
language J lie addressed the boy—William Collins —and
asked him what he said. The lad repeated the oath,
whereupon, the teacher said to him, “ William, come
into the house, and I will settle with you.” The lad
walked to the school-room, and while on the way, report
says, that a larger boy said to William, “if he attempts
to whip you, stick your knife in him.” Mr. Braw
ner struck hint once or twice with a switch, William re
turned the blow; and made his escape by running off .
Mr. B. ran after him some distance, and on his relum,
was observed to fall several times. He died from a stab
received in the left breast, before reaching the school
house.
AVe learn that Air. Brawner was raised near Elber
ton, Elbert county, Georgia. He was an estimable
young man, beloved by aIF who knew him, and none
knew him better or loved him more than the parents of
the unfortunate little boy, at whose hands he lost his
life—yea, the chief mourners round his grave were little
AVilliam’s parents, brothers, sisters, uncles and aunts —
but
“ This is thy work, Almighty Providence !
Whose powers beyond the reach of human thought,
Revolves the orbs of empire; bids them sink
Deep in the dcad’ning night of thy displeasure,
Or rise majestic o’er a wondering world !”
It appears that Mr. Brawner was a particular favor
ite with William’s parents, as he had been chief atten
dant at a wedding party only four days previous to his
death, at the marriage nuptials of William’s cister.
This sad accident occurred near Berlin, Chambers eo.,
Alabama.— West Point Citizen.
Breach or Promise.—At Chardon, Ohio, they had a
breach of marriage contract case before the court rc *
cently. Susannah Garris sued John Sumner for the
offense, and proved that the “courtin’’ began when she
was “ seventeen,” that it continued regularly fourteen
years, infersperced with three several appointments of
the happy day and the usual country preparations for
such an event, as white dresses, new bonnets, quilts,
dried apples, embroidered chemises, &c. The defen
dant at last repaired to the Stateof New York and mar
ried a wife. Then Susan, who had grown wiser, and
found that she was getting toward the “ shady side of
forty,” got riled and sued. The jury gave her ten
thousand dollars.
Queen Victoria’s Dress. —It seems A'ictoria is utterly
out of the fashion, except in the matter of red flanne l
petticoats. She does not approve of the Lilliputian Eu
genie hat for one thing, and with a true lady-likc taste
ignores jewelry and flashy ornament, especially in pub
lic places. An English writer, in giving a few “Chris
tian Thoughts on the Manchester Exhibition,” has the
following paragraph in his strictures upon the prepos
tcrousness of modern fashion:
“But let inc throw out a hint to fair sisters—follow
the example of your own beloved Queen, and you will
not go wrong in your dress. I watched her narrowly
as she stood on the dais and her dross, while rich, as it
ought to be, was strikingly plain, and ornament of any
kind I could hardly detect; and ns for her bonnet, in
stead of one of those little bits of things stuck on the
back of the head, it reminded me of one of the good old
coal box shaped bonnets. I think the ladies of Manches
ter—aye, and the ladies of England too —had a silent
but eloquent reproof from their Queen, and I trust they
will lay it to heart. It will be far more noble to follow
the example of a fc reign potentate, who is not of royal
birth, and is not distinguished, like our own Queen, for
the matroniincss of her appearance.”
It would be as well if the ladies of our country, also,
would follow so sensible an example, especially in the
matter of “ something to wear” on the head, which can
at least have a show of protecting delicate heads from
the frosts of wintcrand the heats of summer.
Young Man, pay Attention! —Don’t be a loafer,
don’t call yourself a loafer, don’t keep loafers’
company, don’t hang about loafing places. Bet
ter work hard for nothing and board yourself than
sit around day after day or stand at corners with
your hands in your pockets. Better for your own
mind, better for your own prospects. Bustle about
if you mean to have anything to bustle about for.
Many a poor physician lias obtained a real patient
by riding hard to attention an imaginary ono. A
quire of blank paper tied up with red tape car
ried under a lawyer’s arm may procure him his
first case and make liis fortune. Such is the world
—to him that hath shall be given. Quit droning
and complaining, keep busy and mind your chan
ces.
” The bloom or blight of all men’s happiness.”
On the 7th inst. by Rev. J. AY. David, H. S. Rees, of
Muscogee co. Go. and Almedia A. Brawner, of Harris’
co. Ga. •
In Savannah, on the 17th inst by Rov S G Daniel,
Campbell Barnard, of Bryan co and Helen, eldest
daughter of S B Williams, esq of the former place.
On the 10th inst by Hon L M Griffin, J I C John F
Malone, of Bainbridge, Ga and Ida Jones, of Gadsden
county, Fla.
On the 23d inst by Bishop Pierce, Wm H Bonner, of
Hancock county, and S Eudosia, youngest daughter of
Judge Ramsey of Columbia county.
On the 4th inst near Grantville, by Rev A C Rees,
O Stafford to MUs E Strickland.
On the 18th inst by the same, M S Smith and Jane
Fariba, all of Grantville.
On the 14th inst by Rev Robert Elcming, Robert R
Miller and Martha Colvin.
On the 7th inst in Thomas county, by the same, Jo
seth O Brown of Lowndes, and Mary Ann Bryan.
On the 28th February, James Campbell and Eliza
beth Rushing, all of Telfair.
On the 17th inst in Thomas county, by Rev Dr Gard
ner, Patrick Whitten and Nancy Hancock.
On the 21st inst by W P Rogers, J I C John W Dil
leshaw and Sallie E Chapman, daughter of Dr Nathan
Chapman, of Canton.
On the 15th inst by Asa A Shell, J P William H
Crawford and Juua F Gary, all of Hancock county.
On the 22d mat in Darien, by Rev S J Pinkerton,
Marshall B Holland and Minnie E Hopkins.