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kitmu[e ((ntfiaxlcr.
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PEUTFIELD, GEORGIA.
THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 8, 1858.
kuTscnate Rejected the Amendment*.
xne se —The Senate, to-day, refused
House amendments to the Kansas bill,
Xturnedthe bill to the House by a majority of nimn
In the House, the deficiency bill was discussed. Both
Houses have adjourned Until Monday.
Southern Bank at Bainbridoe- Wc learn from the
Ttninliridee Argus that the former managers of this rot
se a n concern have deserted it, and that Mr Hubbard
who paid ten thousand dollars to a citizon of Batnbridge
for its charter-has sold out his speculation to a north
ern company. Ex.
Greene Superior Court.
The adjourned session occupied very nearly the en
tire ot last week. Among the legal fraternity, we no
ticed in the bar, in addition to the Greenesboro’ law
yers Hon. H. V. Johnson, T. R. R. Cobb, N. G. Foster,
Junius Wingfield, Col. Reese and the Solicitor, W. A.
Lofton.
The case of Miss Elder, of Clarke county, against Al
fred H. Poullain, of Greene, for seduction, excited con
siderable interest. Col. N. G. Foster made an able and
eloquent appeal in behalf of the young lady. Judge Cone
spoke for the defendant. The Jury hung 24 hours upon
a verdict, and finally rendered a bill of damages for the
plaintiff to the amount of §2500. We learn that Poul
lain has since comprcanised the matter with Miss Elder,
by proposing to pay all costs of suit, and give her §3OOO.
The negro of J. B. Hart, arrested on suspicion ot hav
ing committed violence upon the person of a white lady,
was cleared by proving an alibi. Hicks, tried for lar
ceny, was sent to the Penitentiary for four years.
The Presentments of the Grand Jury appear in to
day’s paper.
[Written for the Georgia Temperance Crusader.]
Friend Seals : As my last communication left me at
Mobile I will say a few words about that goodly city.
I confess I was decidedly “taken in” there, and that
most happily, for I was far better pleased with the ap
pearance of the city than 1 anticipated, and in addition
Iff the pleasant surprise, and the joy of meeting, once
snore, with beloved relatives, I shared largely of the
hospitality and courtesy of the warm-hearted citizens.
Not knowing in what part of the city my kinsfolk resi
ded when I arrived there, it was my good fortune to
stop at the “Chester House ” for a short time. I found
the house well kept, and its accommodating proprietor
a whole-souled friend of Sunday Schools, and 1 feel
greatly indebted to him, for much of the pleasure of my
visit. I met with more sympathy and liberality, in be
half of the cause I love to advocate, in Mobile, than any
city 1 have ever visited. I can truly say, there, I found
“The tear, inclined to ev’ry voice of grief,
The hand that open’d spontaneous to relief—
The heart, whose impulse (stay’d not for the mind
To freeze, to doubt what charity enjoin’d,
Hut sprang to man’s warm instinct for mankind.”
Mobile has many interesting Sunday schools, and a
host of devoted laborers engaged in this noble enter
prise. To show what may be the result of well-direc
ted efforts in this good cause, I will mention one, of the
many, encouraging facts I gathered there. A little
snore than four years ago, a few devoted Christians or
ganized a Sunday school in the upper part ol the city, in
‘the midst of a catholic population. At first, they had
but few scholars, and held their meetings in a carpen
ter’s shop for the want of a more suitable place. I\ot
discouraged, however, they labored on with an abiding
faith, that the dews of Heavenly Grace would water the
seed they were sowing, and cause the tender plants to
germinate. Now, they have a neat and comfortable
church edifice—a devoted Pastor, and one hundred and
fifty pupils in the Sunday school, and their numbers still
increasing.
I was also glad to find the colored children not over
looked in Mobile, as I had the pleasure of lecturing to
one very interesting Sunday school of colored boys and
girls, and was much gratified to hear their prompt re
sponses to all the bible questions I asked. Their ready
answers would put to shame the pupils of some schools
of white children to whom I have lectured north of
“ Mason’s and Dixon's ” line could they but hear them.
From Mobile, I passed up the Bigbee river to Coftee
ville, on the “ Eliza Battle,” the ill-fated boat which
was recently burned to the water’s edge, causing the
loss of many valuable lives, and sending mourning and
lamentation into many bereaved families. What a warn
ing that, to the living, to be found “ready” when the
awful summons comes to exchange worlds; and yet,
fiow little heeded, oftentimes, is such a demonstration of
she uncertainty of human life ! True—too true, it is,
over such a scene man will
“Pause for awhile, and murmur, ‘all must die,’
Then rush to pleasure, action, sin, once more—
Swell the loud tide, and fret unto the shore 1”
May God bind up the broken hearts of those who, by
that sad catastrophe, have been led to exclaim, “Have
pity upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God
hath touched me !” As lam now domiciled with be
loved kindred, where I hear
“ The tones of dear ddigld ,
The ■morning welcome, and sweet good night,”
1 must dr op the pen for a few days, and defer an ac
count of my yisit to CofTeeville until my next.
Yours, W. R. H.
{Written for the Ceorgia Temperance Crusader.]
Friend Seals : We have been blessed with delight
llll weather for a week or so past; but while lam pen
ning these lines, the sky has darkened, rain is descend
ing and the air is becoming chilly—a change from
“gay to grave.”
A revival is now going on in the Baptist and the St.
John’s Methodist Churches, and several have united
themselves with both. An increased interest in all the
churches in this city is experienced. The daily prayer
meetings of the Young Men’s Christian Association are
still in operation, and the attendance so very large that
-there is scarcely any room for an increase. A prayer i
meeting is held at six o’clock in the morning at the
Baptist Church and also at the same hour at St. John’s
Methodist Church.
On Monday evening, 29th inst., Prof. 0. S. Fowler,
the celebrated Phrenologist, of the firm of Fowler &
Wells, New York, delivered his opening Lecture on the
Science of Phrenology, to a large assemblage. Although
not a ornate and polished orator, yet he 13 a pleasing
speaker. His stand was decorated with the skulls of
various animals, Indians and the cast of the skull and
.brain of an idiot. His remarks were suggestive of many
valuable thoughts. He boldly asserted that very few
‘men of the present day know how to breathe ! When to
oat , how to eat, or how much to eat! When to court,
how to court or whom to courl! He continues a course of
Lectures during the week.
An interesting case is now in progress in a Baptist
Church some 15 miles .from this city. A member of
lhat church, residing withinsight of the meeting house,
has had a barrel of “Pike’s Magnolia,” or some other
brand of strychnine Whisky in his smoke-house, where
it has been disposed of to black and white. He excuses
himself on the ground that the whiskey belongs to his
son ; but his brethren insist that a3 he is the head of the :
family, and has control over Ills own premises, he is
responsible for the sale of it even by his son. If he re
fuses to abate the nuisance, the members of that church
have declared that they will not hold fellowship with
him. They firmly believe that it is a moral impossibil
ity lor a rum-seller to be a Christian, and vice versa, j
•Christianity inculcates Love and Peace"—not Hale and
Wai. How any member of the church can reconcile
ruin-selhng with his profession or the principles of the
Gospel, is more than I can perceive. Curses and im
precations prayers and thanksgivings issuing from the
eamc source! A man cannot serve God and the devil
at the same time. The case will be tried at the confer
ence of that churcli. { ■
Upon a review of the members of the Baptist church
of this city, I find there are 318 members, consisting of
229 females, of which there are 170 mrs. and 59 misses
and only 89 males. This is a glorious commentary up 3 „’
Woman.
A of the “Sons of Malta,” a benevolent insti
tution, twill be shortly organized in this city. W.
Augusta, March 30.
P. S. Bugipess brisk. Coffee advancing.
A Baton Rouge, Jj a., Paper thus notices an
aged negro who died recently in that place:
“He belonged to nobody in particular and went
pretty much where he pleased. He is said to
have been at least one hundred and twepty years
< old! Onesiphore Bernard, Sr, one of our eldest
fellow citizens, and who is fully reliable—himself
some seventy years of ‘ age—says he remembered
■when a boy, that Caesar was too old and infirm
•then to perform plantation labor. Ceesar was,
without’ doubt our eldest inhabitant.”
All Old Field Scliool in Georg la, Thirty Years*
ago.
FIVE CHAPTERS OF a HISTORY —BY PHII.EMON PERCH.
CHAPTER 111.
It was the custom, in the Goosepond—as in most of
the old field schools of those times—of the pupils to
study aloud. Whether the teachers thought that the
mind could not act, unless the tongue was agoing, or
that the tongue agoing was the only evidence ’ to be lur
nished that the mind was acting, it never did appear.
Such had been the custom ; and Mr. Meadows did not
aspire to be an innovator. It was his rule, however,
that there should be perfect silence on his arrival, to
give him an opportunity of saying or doing anything he
wish, and until he gave the word of command for
study. On this occasion, there did not seetn to be any
thing on his mind which required to be lifted ofi. He,
however, looked at Brinkly Glisson with some disap
pointment of expression—(he had beaten him unmerci
fully the morning before, for not having gotten there in
time—though the boy’s excuse was, that lie had gone a
mile out of his way on an errand of his mother) —as if
he had expected to have had some business with him,
which, unexpectedly, had to be postponed; and then
said: “Go to studyin’!”
It was plain, that in that house, Mr. Israel Meadows
had been in the habit of speaking but to command, and
of commanding but to be obeyed. In an instant, was
heard then ana there that unintelligible din and jargon,
which were invariable incidents of the country schools
of that generation. There were spellers and readers,
geographers and arithmeticians, all engaged in their se
veral pursuits, in the most delightful and inexplicable
confusion. Sometimes the spellers would have the heels
of the rest, and then the readers. The geographers
were always third, and the arithmeticians always be
hind. It was perfectly plain, that these last never could
catch up with the others. The faster they added or
subtracted, the oftener they had to rub out aud com
mence anew. It was but a short time, always, before
they found this to be the case, and they generally con
cluded by adopting the maxim of the philosopher :“Fes
tina lente .” The geographers were a little faster and a
little louder. But the spellers and the readers had it, I
tell you. Each speller and reader, in his or her turn,
went through the whole gamut of sounds, from low up
to high, and from high down to low again ; sometimes
in regular ascension and descension, one note at a time;
at other times, by perfect fifths; occasionally, one, as
he went up or came down, sounding, as the musicians
say, the chromatic intervals. Oh !it was so refreshing
to see the passionate eagerness which these urchins
manifested for the acquisition of knowledge. To have
sliced out about five seconds of their studying, and put
the words together, would have made a sentence some
thing like the following:
“ C-de-e-twice e-an-e three r i 1 two v old seven vill
times ade 1 cru i 1 com g fts man o six h mu four ni h
eight ca pt r teen e light is ca light i light x tweentlons
ty fix ne a cru cor a light rapt double good ty light man
cru four ner ci s press fix—oh! ’ ’
To have heard them for the first time, one would have
been reminded of the Apostles’ preaching at Pentecost,
and could not be persuaded that there were not then and
there spoken the language of at least the Parthians and
Medes, Elamites and the dwellers in Mesopotamia and
in Judea and Cappadocia in Pontus and Asia, Phrygia
and Pamphylia; in Egypt, and In the parts of Lybia
about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and Prose
lytes, Cretes and Arabians. Sometimes these cloven
tongues would subside a little, when it might bei half a
dozen would stop to blow; but in a moment more, the
chorus would swell again in anew and livelier accre
scendo. When this process had gone on for about half
an hour, Mr. Meadows lifted up his voice, and shouted,
“Silence !” and all was still.
Now was to commence the recitations, during which
the most perfect stillness was required ; for, as great a
helper to study as this delightful jargon was, Mr. Mea
dows found that it did J)ot contribute in the least to the
case of his work.
He now performed a feat, which he had never per
formed before in exactly that manner. lie put his hand
behind the lappel of his coat for a moment, and then
withdrawing it and holding it up, his thumb and fore
finger joined together, he said : “There’s too much fuss
here. I’m going ts) cjrap this pin. and I shall whipevery
single one of you little bqyjs tjiat don’t hear it when it
falls. Thar!” “I heered it, Mr. Meadows !” “I heered
it, Mr. Meadows!” exclaimed, simultaneously, two or
three little fellows. %
“Come up here, you three boys, You area liar;”
said he to each one ; “I never drapped it. I never had
nary one to drap. It just shows what liars you are.
Set down and wait a littLe whiff?, and PH show you how
to tell me lies,”
The little fellows slunk to their seats, and the recita
tions commenced. I shall not attempt to give a descrip
tion of these recitations. Memory was the only faculty
of the mind which underwent the smallest development
at this scliool. Whoever could say exactly what the
book said, was adjudged to know his lesson. The most
of them, on this morning, were successful; but four or
five boys, and as many girls, were adjudged to have
them was Asa Boatright’s class.
That shrewd and calculating young gentleman knew
his words, and fcjt perfectly safe. The class had spelled
round three or four tinier, iihen, lo! the contingency
which Allen Thigpen had suggested, .did come to pass.
Betsy Wiggins missed her word, and (in tjb„e language
of Allen) Heneritter Bangs hern, and Mandy Grizzle
hern; and their responsibilities were suddenly cast upon
Asa, which he was wholly unprepared to meet, and
which, fo>n the look of mingled terror and reproach
which he gave of those young ladies, as they
handed over to him their xv,Q* , d,, he evidently thought it
the height of injustice that he should (icen called
upon to meet. Mr. Meadows, closing the bodk, tv®sed
it to Asa, who, catching it as it was falling at his feet,
turned, and hip eyes swimming with tears, went back
to his seat. As he passed Allen Thigpen, the latter
whispered:
“What did I tell you ? You heard the pin drap, too.”
Now, Allen was in no plight to have given this taunt
to Asa. He had not given five minutes’ study to his
arithmetic the whole morning; but Ml'.- Meadows made
a rule (this one with himself, though all thepupffs knew
it better than any other rule he had,) never to allow Al
len to miss a lesson ; and as he had so kindly taken this
responsibility upon iffmself, Allen was wont to give
himself no trouble about tips matter.
Brinldy Glisson was the last to recito. Crinkly was
no great hand at pronunciation. He had been p.eqajjng
but a short time, when Mr. Meadows advanced hiifffntff
geography—with the purpose, as Brinkly came at‘er
vvards to believe, of getting the half-dollar extra tui
tion. This morning he thought he knew his lesson,
and did, as he had understood it. When called to re
cite, he went up with a countenance expressive of mild
happiness, handed the book to Mr. Meadows,
ting his bauds’ ip lff.o pockets, awaited the questions.
And now it was ah interesting thing to see Mr. Mead
ows fsmile, as Bnrikly talked of tjjlgnds and prominto
ries; of thisimuaes and’ h'eerftispoare*. The poor lad
misunderstood that snjile, and nis hedf t .yap riad at the
unexpected reception of a liW}e complacency from the
master. But he was not long in error,
“Is-lands, eh ? thsisimusees, eh ? Take this ItOOk, and
see if you can find any is-lands ami jjffsffmfsies, .apd
then bring them to me—l want to see them things, Idp.
Find \es), if you please.”
The boy took the book, and it would have melted the
heart of any other ijjan tha-n Israel Meadows, to have
seen the deep despair ts? his face, as he looked on it, and
was spelling over to hiinatii tyords as he came to
them.
“Mr. Meadows,” he said, in a t/jpe, “I
thought it was is-land. Here it is—i-s, 1-a-n-d, land,”
and he looked up into his face, beseechingly,
“Inland, eh ? is-lani! Now find ihisi- muses, and
promintor4ee, and heemispeares.”
“Mr. ?dea<i<iv\s, I didn’t know how to pronounce them
words. I asked ycuiwiY/ to pronounce ’em, and you
wouldn’t tell me; and I asjie® £l/.3.n, and he fold me
the way I said ’em.”
“I believe that to be a lie.”
Brinkly’s face reddened, and his breathing was fast |
aid hard. He looked at the master, as but once or
twice before during the term he had looked at him, but
made no answer. At that moment, Alien Thigpen
leaned carelessly on his desk, his elbows resting on it,
and his chin at} Jjis hands, and said, drily :
“Yes, I did tell jfi.ni so.” -
Mr. Meadows now a little. After a mo
ment’s pause, lie said:
“How often have I got to tell you not to ujrk anybody
but me !y?w to pronounce words?’ That'll ‘Ho,'Air j sit.
down, sir.” . ‘ “ “ •
He went to bis and looking gloomily towards
the door a minute,or t\y,o,j}| opened his book, but.stu-.
died it no more.’
vMr. Meadows now set upon g'as the only really
pleasant portion of his duties—the of offen
ders. The lawyers tell us, that of the several portions
of the law, the vindicatory is the most important. This
element of the lawyers of't lie Goosepond had been culti-:
vated so much, that it had grown to become almost the;
only one which was ever consulted at all. An for the |
declaratory and the directory, they were found to be,
wljen clearly understood, impediments to a fair showing
and a npoper development of the vindicatory ; in so
much that ike latter was often disappointed of a victim
for its daily lockJ. And so Mr. Meadows used some
times, when his urchins jvould not “miss,” to put the
vindicatory—punish tlic.pflfen&r. iind then declare what
lie had done to be an offence, and tiivu direct him that
he had better not do it any more. He t.9 owe a
grudge to society—whether for not'giving him a fatjher,.
as it had done to everybody else; or because it had in-;
terfered in the peaceful occupation which he had iriheri-’
ted from his grandfather, as if to avenge itself on him
for violating one of its express commands, that he, and
such as he, should inherit nothing from anybody, jt d}d
not appear. But lie owed it; and he delighted in pav
ing it nv beating those children, each one of whom aid
have or had had a father. So, on this morning, by way
of taking up another installment on this immense debt,
which, like iiioat other debts, seemed ns if it never
would get fully paid, be took down his bundle of hicko
ries from two pegs in one yf the jogs in the side of the
house, on which nc had placed them on his first coming’
in ; selected a keen one-five or six feet long', and polk
ing to the middle of the vacant place between tfje (j}Vr
place and t.hc rows of desks, he sat down in his chair,
and said: . •
“Them spelling and riding classes, all hut Sam
rale and Asa Boatright, come tq the circus.”
six bo , y , s ’ as ln W gw*>, irpm eight to
fini w’ came up, and eltting down yM tj-e
rnw j cj<te>plet) all along the length of two
the lim Rnd pwlh'ijg qjg’ijietr shoes and stockings,
Ikirfs nntnl) o ®’ ft™*
1 , u ' lr they made a ring round Mr.
Meadowy as he sat in his chair, and commenced a brink
i'tvx f 4 dcscnbed two ov three revolutions, (
and Mr. Meadow* was straightening his hickory, when
little Asa ran up, and crying piteously, said :
“Please, sir, Mr. Meadows; please, sir, Mr. Mead
ows, let go in the circus !”
Mr. Meadows rose up, and raised his hickory a
strike, but he looked at him a moment, and pointed to
his seat. Asa went back to It sobbing. Mr. Meadows
resuming his seat, went at once into the exciting part ol
the exhibition, by tapping the legs as they trotted
around him. This was done at first very gently and al
most lovingly, but gradually, as the sport warmed in in
terest, tha rapidity and violence of the taps increased.
The children began to cry out, and then Mr. Meadows
struck the harder; for it was a rule—oh, he was a
mighty man for rules, this Mr. Meadows —that whoever
cried the loudest should be hit the hardest. He kept up
this interesting and exciting amusement until he had
given them about twenty-five lashes a piece, the most of
them being easily counted by the stripes. He then
ceased. They stopped instantly, walked around him
once, then seating themselves again on the bench, and
resuming their shoes and stockings, they went to their
seats, one girl, thirteen years old, had begged him to
let her keep on her stockings, but Meadows was too
firm a disciplinarian to allow it. When she returned to
the front bench she put on her shoes, and taking her
stockings up and putting them under her apron, she
went to her seat, and sobbed as if her heart was broken.
Allen Thigpen looked at her a moment, and then he
turned his eye slowly around and looked at Brinkly
Glisson. The latter did not notice him. He sat with
his hands in his pockets, and his lips compressed. Al
len knew the struggle that was going on, and he longed
to see how it would end. Meadows rested three min
utes.
It has no doubt occurred to those who may be read
ing this true story, that it was a strange thing in Asa
Boatright, who so well knew Meadows’ ways, to have
expressed so decisive a wish to take a part in this last
described exhibition—an exhibition, however, entertain
ing, as it doubtless was, to Meadows, and might be to
most other persons, placing them in the attitudes of
spectators, was not, to the highest degree, agreeable to
one in the attitude which Asa must have known, he
would have been made to assume, had Meadows vouch
safed to have yielded to his request. But Asa was not
a boy who was either a fool, or one who had no care for
his physical well being. He knew what lie was about.
“Sam Pate and Asa Boatright,” said Meadows, after
his rest, “conic out here, and go to horsin’.”
The two lads came out; Pate gently inclined himself
forward, Boatright got upon his back, locking his arms
around his neck, and the former gathering the latter’s
legs in his arms, and drawing, as tightly as possible, his
pants across his middle, commenced galloping as fast
as he could around the area before the fireplace. Mead
ows, having taken down a fresh hickory commenced
applying it with great force and precision to that part
of Boatright’s little body which, in his present attitude,
was the most exposed. Every application of this kind
made that young gentleman scream at the top of his
voice, and even to kick; which Pate, being for the oc
casion a horse, was to understand as the expression of
a wish, on the part of his rider, that he should get on
faster, and so to frisk and to prance, and otherwise to
imitate a horse, as far as he could in the circumstances.
Now, those circumstances being, that as soon as Boat
right should have ridden him about long enough to have
become incapacitated from riding upon a real horse,
without the smallest degree of ease or comfort, they
were to reverse positions. Pate becoming rider, and
Boatright the horse; they were hardly sufficient to
make Pate entirely forget his identity, in the persona
tion of that quadruped. He did his best, though, in the
circumstances (if the expression will be allowed .once
more,) and not only pranced, but neighed severaltinies.
When Asa was put in the condition hinted at above,
he was allowed to dismount. Sam having mounted on
his back, it was truly stirring to see the latter kick and
the former prance. This was always the best part of
the show, A rule of tiffs exercise was that wfien the
rider should dismount and beeome the horse, he was to
act well his part, or be made to resume hi3 place as ri
der ; a prospect not at all agreeable—each one deci
dedly preferring the part of the horse. Sam was about
three years older, and some twelve or fifteen pounds
heavier than Asa. Now, while Asa had every stimulus
which a sensible horse, as he was could have to do his
best, yet'so it was, that he was so sore and Sam was so
heavy, tliat he met with great difficulty. He pranced
furiously, but fell several times. Finding that he could
do no great things at prancing, he attempted to make up
by neighing. When Sam cried out and kicked, Asa
neighed—jie would stumble against a desk and neigh—
he would run neadloiig against the side of the house and
neigh—he would lift up one foqi, antj neigh—he would
put it down and take up the other, and neigh; and
then, when he undertook to lift up both feet at once, fall
down and neigh. Never before had Asa so well acted
his part in the horsin at the goosepond. Never before
had horse with such weight on his back neighed so lus
tily. Sam screamed and kicked. Asa floundered and
neighed until, at last, stupibling violently against the
bench, Sam fell oyer his head, and fotffng loose his hold
of Asa’s neck for fear of breaking lffs own, he lay sprawl
ing on his belly under the desk. Mr. Meadows burst into
a paroxysm. His soul was satisfied—he gave up the
pursuit, and ordered them to their seats. They went
back to them, and sat down with spell a graduated de
clension of body, as one wotjid sit, withal, into a basket
of eggs, with a desire to avoid breaking any of them.
CHAPTERiv.
After the close of the last performance, which Mr.
Meadows facetiously called “Horsin,” he rested about
ten minuses. The most interesting, the most delight
ful, the most insniring exercise was yet to follow—the
punishment of Brinkly Glisson. It was strange to see
how he delighted in it. He was never so agreeable at
playtime pnd in afternoons, as when he had beaten
Brinkly in the* mining. If he knew his lesson, and
there were no pretexts to b&ht hirn, Ms. (ffo&dcW3 was
generally sadder and more peevish than ustffil during
the remainder of the day ; and looked and acted as a
man who felt that he was deeply injured. Now, Brinkly
was one of the best, most honest and bravest, and most
\ kind-kea;ted boys in Ihe world. He was the only son
’ of a poor widow, wfic had. at a great sacrifice to her,
sent him to Mr. Meadows’ school. IJe had pitched and
tended the crop of a few acres’ aroilfidher tiousu, and
she had secured the promising of a neighbor to gather it
when it was ripe ; and so, to afford her son an oppor
tunity of gettjng a “ leetle schoolin’.” He was the ap
ple of her eye—Jhe idol of her heart. He was to her
as we always think of one who is ‘f qnly son of his
mother, and she is a widow.” The sacrifice she made
cheerfully; for she loved him as'she loved'her ovyii'spul
—and Brinkly repaid that fond mother’s loye and..carc
by constant and unremitting study. He soon learned to
read pretty well, and was advanced into geography in
g couple ot months. How proud the widow was, when
she bought tlm jjew geography and atlas, with the pro
ce.ecjs.qi'fffur puff’ q/aockp which (sweet labor of love) she
had knit with ffep qwri'hdhdp f ha t .a vqrld pfjfnpwj
edge, she thought, tl’jprp ppujst be >n a Boole wi'tji five
times as many'pages as a spelling boqk, afitj >n those
great red, and blue, and pink piafureg, cpyerwg whole
page a foot square; and, yet, all this knowledge des
tined to become the property of Brinkly ! But Brinkly
soon found that geography was above his present capac
ity, and at once told Mr. Meadow'3 30, That gentle
man received the communication with displeagiu’3, told
him that what was the matter with him was lazinegg ;
. and that laziness, of all the qualities of boys, was the
i onO which im best knew what to do with. He then took
! to beatirrgdne Jiiiiy.
Brinkly, alter his first .beating, wi-iefi wjjj a light
one, Wjsnt home, and told his nipflie# ofikij and intima
ted b?3 (jCctfeffi# aj)} to take anQtjher. THe widow;
was sorely- atgfrpsks&'ah.^ JtfigW yh?t to do. On
the one hand, was hot- grief iff gyf} was
beaten unjustly, and his spirit coWedf fop shp ~ fcWfVT
that he studied bll the time he had ; and, though entirely
uneducated hereelf, eho WRS not, like many ether pa
rents in her day, who thought that the best means to
i deyefop the mind, was to beat the body, but, on the
I other Land, would be the disappointment of his only
chance of gating any education, if lie should leave this
school, as there was ijo.qtLiu ffi tfip neighborhood. This,
thought the poor woman,"was the wmst ff.qrn of dilem
ma; and ao, she affij begged Kim, .as he joyed
her, to submit to Mr. Mmows; tfo s{j!?uld bgyp’ thek
more time for study. She herself, would ffifi WJfod i
and feed the stock. He should have ali tffg ttmo
I at home, to himself. He could get it, she told him—
she fcntw fie pniffd. Br inkly said yes, he could he knew
it, if he could fead b,eUpp, and the master did not give
him such long lessons.. Ofi, it would cpme to him af
ter a little—she knew it would. Riinjfly yielded; but
how many a hard struggle he made to continue that
submission, no one knew but he—not even his motfier;
for lie concealed from her as much of the treatment he
had received, and his suffering under it, as he could.
Mr. Meadows could see it, sometimes. He knew that
the bpy was not afraid of him. He could see it in his
eye every jtinjc he beat him; and it was this which af
forded hfm'stiejh infinite satisfaction in punishing him.
He wished to Subdue. Brinkfy w,<?uld never beg, or
weep. Mr. Meadows often thought that ffp yap wn jjte
point of resisting him ; but lie knew (the region why fie i
did not, and while he hated him for It, ha trusted that.
it would last, yet, he often doubted whether it would j
antj thus the matter became so intensely exciting, that
he corktlftgajjy sought for opportunities of bringing it
; up. Heilpvpd ty tempt him. He'had no doubt but that
he could manage imp in an yon combat; but yet, he
did not wish it to COtwO to ihjit. Ho onjy gloried in
goading h)] almost to resistance, and tacn opting’ him
yield. ‘ v •
Have we not all seen how lh* fdfSW man adapts him
self to the different animals of the roanagnrk?? flow
quickly and sharply he orders the lesser animal?, who
jump over his wand and over it again, and back and
over again, and crouch in submission* as he passes by!
But when he goe3 to the lion, you can scarcely hear his
lew tones, as he commands him to rise and perform his
part, and i@ npt certain whether he will do as he is bid
or not. Dpubis sr.d thoughts UU thg/sp were ever in
the or Mr. MedfJows, when he set la w beat
Brinkly Glisson. After a‘kiiOF ffat jrqiff til'd fatigues
of the last exercise, he rose from his sunt, paced slowly
across the room once or twice, and taking down a hic r 1
ory switch-nrthe longest, largest and keenest of all he
had—he stopped in the mid.dJf 3 pf !l ie fl oor, and, in a low,
quiet tone of vou:e, said >’
“Brinkly Glisson —come.”
Allen had been eyeing Brinkly all the time, since the
closing of the circus. Ho saw the conflict which was
going on in his soul; and whon Mr. Meadows had burst
into the proxysm of laughter, at the untoward ending of
tii6’ horwn, fie thought he saw that the conflict was
ended, and he'chuokted.
Slowly and calmly, ‘ Brinkly rose frejn his scat, and
walked up and stood before Mr, Meadows;
“Why, high!” thought Allon.
“ Off with your coat, sir”’—low and genfle, and with 1
a coupfenance almost smiling.
‘Brinkly stispd jnotionlcss. He had done so before in
sitnilor'cfrcjfnltnness, o)j,c? or twice, but had, at length,
yielded'. • 1 • ■ * ’ W
“ Off with it, sir t” louder and not quite so gentfe.
Sfp hiotion on Brinkly’s hart ; r.ot . fcO'eri in jus syos, I
jvhjcjihrQked stpgfjjly into the mastor.’s,’W.it[i a meaning!
which he nearly, h.yt not quite undei stood- ” ‘l
Ain’t yog going tq p.ujfl yff fco.a/, r V’ now loud
“What fur?” asked Brinkly. I
“What for, sir?”
“Yes, sir, wlmt fur?”
“Because I’m going to give you this hickory, you im
pudentscoundrel! Andif you don’t pullitoffthis min
ute, 111 give you such a heatin’ as’ll make you feel like
you never was whipped before, since you was born
Ain’t you goin’ to pull it off, sir?”
“No!”
Allen wriggled on his seat, and his face shone as the
lull moon. Mr. M-eadows retreated a step; and catch
ing the switch two feet from the larger end. he raised
that end to strike.
“Stop one minute, if you please.”
Mr. Meadows lowered his arm ; and his face smiled
a triumph. This was the first time that Brinkly had
eV fio C^i r chuckled; Allen looked disappointed,
w n top, eh. I yi! This end looks heavy, does it ?
Well, I shouldn t be surprised if it warnt sorter heavy.
W ill you pull oft your coat, now, sir ?”
Air. Meadows, I asked you to stop, because I want
to say a lew words to you. You have beat me, and beat
me, worse than you ought to a beat a dog (Allen’s face
getting right again) and God in Heaven knows, that
endourin the time that I have come to school to you, I
have tnted as hard as a boy ever did try, to please you,
and to git my lesson. I can’t understan’ that jography,
and I am t been a read’n’ long enough to understan’ it.
1 have ast you to let me quit it; mother has ast you.
You wouldn tdo it; but you have beat me, and beat
me. (You do not know whether Allen wants to laugh
or to cry.) Whell, now, the more I study it, the more
1 don t understand it. I would a quit school long ago,
but mother was so anxious for me to learn, and made
me come. And, now, I have took off my coat to you
the last time. (Ah! now Ido see a great big tear in
Allen’s eye;) Listen to me,” as the teacher’s hand
makes a slight motion, “don’t hit me. 1 know I ain’t
iearnin’ nothin’, and your heatin’ ain’t goin’ to make
me learn any faster. If you are determined to keep me
in this jography, and to beat me like you hav’ been a
bcatin me, just say so, and I’ll take my hat and go
home. I’de like to a-not come to-day, but I thought I
knowed it. Now, I say agin, don’t, for God’s sake,
don’t hit me.” And he raised up both his hands, pale
and trembling.
It would be impossible to describe the surprise and
rage expressed on the face of Mr. Meadows during the
delivery, and at the close of this little harangue. He
looked at the boy a mpment; his countenance expressed
the deepest sadness; but there was nothing in it like
defiance or threatening; it was simply sad and beseech
ing. The master raised his switch, and struck with all
his might across his shoulder. In an instant, sadness
and beseeching passed from Brinkly’s face; the long
pent-up resentment of his soul gushed forth, and the
fury of a demon glared in his eyes. He was preparing
to spring upon Mr. Meadows, when the latter, by a
sudden rush, caught him and thrust him backwards over
the front bench. They both tumbled on the floor, be
tween the rows of desks, Mr. Meadows uppermost.
“It’s come,” said Allen, quietly, as he rose and
looked down upon the combatants.
Mr. Meadows attempted to disengage himself and
rise; but Brinkly would rise with him. After several
attempts at this, Brinkly managed to get upon one
knee, and by a violent jerk, he brought Mr. Meadows
down to the floor j and they were, in the phraseology of
the boxing-ring, cross-and-pile. Mr. Meadows shouted
to Sam Pate and another boy, to hold Brinkly, until he
could rise. They rose to obey; but Allen, without say
ing a word, put out his hand before theiq, and motion
ing them to their seats, they resumed them. And now
the contest set in for good—Mr. Meadows struggling to
recover his advantage, and Brinkly to improve what he
had gained. The former’s right arm was thrown across
the latter’s neck, and its hand wound in and pulling vio
lently his hair, his left hand pressing against his breast .
Brinkly ? 3 left leg was across Mr. Meadows’ middle, and
with his right against a stationary desk for a pon sto,
his right arm befit and lying under him like a lizzard’s,
and his left jn Ms. Meadow's shirt collar, he struggled
like a young giant tpget uppermost. When Mr. Mead
ows’ upper parts were rising, and about to rule the as
cendant, Brinkly’s lower parts would swell like a sea
wave. Between these two the strife was even, and it
was plain that the matter would have to be settled by
Mr. Meadows’ lower parts and Brinkly’s upper parts.
When Brinkly would raise his head, that hand wound
in his hair would instantly bring it back to the floor.
When Air. Meadows would attempt to disengage his leg
from underneath Brinkly’s that member, assisted by its
brother from th epon sto, held it like the boa holds the
bullock. Oh, Air. Aleadows! Mr. Aleadows! you don’t
know the boy that grapples with you. You blow, Mr.
Meadows! Bee, Brinkly blows not half so hard. You
walk a mile to and from school; Brinkly seven, often
running the first half. Your right hand pulls less vig
orously at the hair of Brinkly’s ascending head. Look
there, now Brinkly’s leg has moved an inch further
across you ! Wring and twist, Mr. Aleadows; for right
under that leg, if any where for you, is now the post oi
honor. Can’t ypu draw out your left leg, and plant it
against the desk behind you, as Brinkly does with his
right ? Alas ! no! Brinkly has now made a hook of
his left, and his heel is pressing close in the cavity be
hind your knee. Ah, that was an unlucky move for you
then, Mr. Meadows, when you let Brinkly ? s hair go,
and thrust botlj of your band s at his eyes. You must
haye dpnp that in a passion. But you are racking him
some now, tjiat is certain. But gee there, now, Air.
Aleadows, he has released his grasp of your shirt collar,
and thrown his left arm over you. Good morning to
you now, Mr. Meadows !
On the instant that Air. Aleadows had let go his hair,
Brinkly, though he was being gouged terribly, released
his hold of his collar, threw his arm across his neck, and
pushing with all his might with his right leg against the
desk behind him, and giving a corresponding pull with
his left, he succeeded in getting fully upon him; then
springing up quick as lightning—as Mr. Meadows, pant
ing, Jifgjeyes gleamed with the fury otan enraged tigress,
was if thin p ting to rise—Jie jjeah h : m a blow in the face
with his fist, which £cnt Hitft back bleeding line a butch
ered beast. Once more the master attempted to rise,
and those who saw it will never forget that piteous
spectacle of rage, and shame, and pain, and fear. Once
more Brinkly struck him back. And then he sprang
upon him again, seizing his arms, and pinioning them
tinder iiis knees, {;e wound both hands in his grizzly hair,
and raising his” head', he brought jt down several times
with all his might against the floor.
“Spare me —for God’s Sake; spare me!” cried Mr.
Meadows, in tones never before heard Ircm him in that
house. Brinkly stopped.
‘.Spare you,” he said, now panting himself. “Yes,
spare you,-whp Spared anything that you could
hurt, poor, cruel and unfeelin-’ irtaftiYou loved to beat
other people, and gloried in seein’ ’em sufferin’ ; and
when they bogged you to spare them, you laughed, you
did. And now you are beat yourself, and whipped, and
you beg like a poor cur dog. Yes, and I’ll spare you,”
he continued, rising from him ; “it would be a pity to
he a t tiny sicb, 0- ppor, cowardly human as you are any
Jdrtger. • Now, go) go and make them poor little chaps
tJfaS- go tj)'hdrsin : agm, arid‘cut’em in. two agin, arid
then git in the circus ring, and mffke therh'btbfefs lhar,
gais afid gals and all—hold up their etose, and
trot round you; and tljgy cry like’ you, and beg
you to spare ’em, you laugh agin. n
The boy turned from him, gathering up his books, he
WPn{ to tpe peg whereon his hat was hanging, and was
in the act of taking it down, witon a audden revulsion
of feeling came over him, and he sat down and wept.
And oh, the feelings of that poor boy's heart! The re
collection of the cruel wrongs he had suffered ; of the
motives, full of pious duty, which had made him endure
.thVit; ihd j thought of ho,v fr.istqken was the wish of
his mother,'that he-should endure them, and jio>y they
had been avenged ; thfese ‘ali infecting-ai once in his gen
tle bi.it'nmiught spirit, overcame- it, and broke it into;
iMfnjjf 1 ‘ ’'” ‘ ‘ l *’ ‘ ‘ ‘
Meanwhile, other things .were gqing ffit), Mr. Mead
ows, haggard, bloody, bruised and covered Sthth d)rt,
slung off towards the fire place, gpt down in Jits chair
and buried his face in his hands. The scholars —boys
and girls—liad all been in tlm highest states of alter
nately alarm and astonishment. They were now all
standing about their seats, looking alternately at Brinkly
and at Mr. Meadows, but at the latter mostly. Their
fcountenaiices plainly jndipnted that that was a sight
which, in llidii’ ftirnds, Jiatl never before been vouchsafed
tq mgjtifl y'sihn. f A Schoolmaster whipped,-beat, choked
—his hohti’ immhgd- wd’ by one of his ‘scholars!’ and ;
Mr. Meadows—Mr. f Aieaao'w#,'thaf's,a)lfe fi)art, who, ten
minutes before, was in the exercise of eovdivigh and
despotic authority! And then to have heard him beg
—a schoolmaster—Air. Meadows —actually beg Brinkly
to snare fiirji ’ These poor children actually began to
feelW only pity,’ but’ gyyift resentment, at what had
bppn dpne, Tlply felt tqrfffied, and, Jtf sojup extent,
mlserabt'’, at lf:p sjgl|t pf so much'power, iso’much au
thority, so much royalty dishonored and laid low!
Brinkly appeared to have been transformed, fjp was
a murderer—a regicide f Talk of the divine right ol
kings if you wish. There was never half .of. the piety
felt for it, as the children in country schools in the south
ern States felt for the kingly dignity of the schooimas.
tors of tjpfty yearn
tb>.m;ii ¥,
Allen Thigpen was the only One .of the pupils who did
; not entirely lose his wits while t ho events of the last
; few minutes were transpiring. Mr. Meadows
1 had taken his seat, Allen looked at hint lor a moment
1 o'-two, as if hesitating, what to do. He then walked
! slowly tiv/ai-d? him, and delivered the following ora
’ tion:
“ It’s come to it at
I t|e fast, yop ort tp a seen it yourself, but ypu yvofjla’nt,
ur you could' fit, ami I den I know which, and it makes
no odds which; you didn't ~--t did i and tjovy jt’p come,
and such a beatin, Jperoosalem! But don't, you be too
much took Lack by it. You want goin’ to keep school
here no longcr’n to-day, no how. Now, I had laid off,
Mr. Meadows—l say, I had laid off in my mind to a gin
s-sits II duckin’ this very day; and I’ll tell you for why.
I Npt atil’c gqt anything paj-tjcular agin you, myself.
1 y°u hoi;jU aftW n,o| pno out o,'the way ip p.p this
> -jtlije.ftrst placpi it-'s hot my opinion,
nur hala't bo*,; fiqr tjpjjp, that you ape fit too be
a schooluiasbr Hint a them sums in hi-tfmjp-ln
fl'USt IS the very thing, and the only thing I wanted too
learn—l suy tlaf’a them sums in In-trust, which I can’t
work, an,d whjpb yqq oqn'f sjipw mp how too work, or
haul t yit, though l ye beep cypherin’ in it now two
months. And tnui’ g Me|y .Tones, that’s in thp sapje,
and sho hain’t loarnt It neither, Hut tjiaf ain’t the
main thing yit. It’s your imposin’ disposition. It
this here school-house,” continued he, looking around,
“if this here school-house linin’t seen more onmerciful
heatin'? than ary nuthcr school-house in this country,
t then ,{ say it's arUv thqt tljar’s sjch a thing as educa
■ tion} ami if tj t e >Vny that thirds ha,; cps n ,B|} >n
this horo echbol'housc, Since youwe been nepp, is the
onliest way of genin’ of ii education, tgpn { sy, agirj,
it’s a pity thar's sich a thing'as education, It pint
worth while for mo to name over all the ways jrou ve
had of tormentin’ o’ those children; you know em, I
1 know ; everv body about tins here school-house
1 knoW'Vih. New, ass sufd bjjforp, I had laid off to a
gin’-you a duckin’ t.M* very day ; and HU niormn/ I
was going to let BrinlUy into? it, till I found that the time
r seen was a cummin’ in him was done cum, and I
Unwed he wouid’nt jine-iti ducKin’ you, on account o-
KSmSWi?. Now I’i'fi km a tbinktn o’ this for more’p
two weeks, bekase —noW. listen ac me didn't you say
you was from South C alliner ?
Pausing for a reply, and receiving no answer, he con
tinued:
“Yes, you said you was from South Calliner. v> ell,
now, I’ve hearn a man—a travellin’ man—who staid
all night at our house, on his way from Fluridji, say he
knowed you. He axed me, seein’ me study in’, who 1
went to school to; and when I told him (Mr. Meadows
appearin’, for the first time, to be listening) ‘Aleadows ,
says he, ‘ What Meadows ?’ * Israei Aleadows, says I.
‘ Israel Aleadows!’ says he; ‘lsrael Meadows a school
master?’ and he laughed, he did; he laughed fit to kill
hisself. Well, he told me wharyou lived, and who you
wus— who you wus,” lie repeated, in a low, knowing
tone. “But you needn’t be too bad skeered. lam t
told it to the fust human, and I ain’t goin’ to, till you
leave. Now I had laid off, as I told you, to gin you a
duckin’; but I hain’t the heart to do it, and you in the
fix you are now at the present. Nuff ced, as I seed in a
bar-room in Augusta, on a piece ol pasteboard, under
the words ‘no credit,’ when I was thar. Wonder n
thar’s goin’ to be much more schoolin’ here?” _ Saying
which, Allen puckered his mouth as if for a whistle, and
stalked back to his seat.
Mr. Meadows, during the last few sentences of this
harangue, had exhibited some emotion. When Allen
had told him what the traveller had said, he looked up
at him, once, a countenance of terror, and on. Allen’s
assuring him he had not mentioned it, he had again slunk
down, and buried his lace again in his hands. When
Allen had finished, and resumed his seat, he rose, and
beckoning to him, imploringly, they went out of the
house together. Around to the chimney coiner they
went, and after a few minutes they returned. Mr.
Meadows took up his hat, and, without looking at any
one, walked rapidly away. He had just entered the
path in the pine thicket, and turning, unobserved, (as
he thought, though a little boy, who was playing truant
that day, and lay hid in the thicket, saw him,) he paused
and looked back at the school-house. And oh! the an
ger, the impotent rage, chagrin, and shame that were
depicted upon his blood-shot face! No exiled monarch
ever felt more grief and misery than he did, in that mo
ment. He paused but for a moment; and raising both
his hands and shaking them towards the house, without
saying a word, he turned again, and almost ran along
the path.
After he hsd gone, and not until he had gotten out of
sight, Allen —to whom all eyes were now directed, (ex
cept Brinkly’s, who sat with his head hidden in his
hands on the bench,) took Mr. Aleadow’s chair, and
crossing his legs, he said:
“ Well, boys and gals, the Goosepond is a broke-up
school. The school master has, so to speak, absquatu
dated. Thar’s to be no more horsin’ here, and the cir
cus is clean shot up. And the only thing I hates about
it is, that it’s Brinkly that’s done it and not me. But
he wouldn’t give me a chance. No,” he added sorrow
fully,” as if speaking to himself, “he wouldn’t give me
a chance. Narry single word could I ever git him to
say to me out o’ the way. I have missed lessons.
’Deed I never said any, I never kept navy single rule in
his school, and he wouldn't say nothin’ to me.” Ti en
going to Brinkly, he put his hand on his shodlder,
no, it’s just as it o’rt to a been. You was the one to
do it. And in the name of all that’s jest, Brinkly Glis
son, what is you been cryin’ about ? Git up, boy, and
go and wash your face. I would druther a done what
you have done, than to a been the man that fooled the
tory in the revolutionary war, and stoled his horse, in
the lile of Alarion. Come along and wash that face and
hands,” and he almost dragged Brinkly to the pail,
and pouring water while he washed.
The children, recovering from the consternation in
which they had been thrown by the combat and its re
sult, now began to walk about the house, and pick up
their books, and lay them down again. They would go
to the door, and look out towards Air. Meadows’ path,
as if expecting him to return ; and then they would stand
around Allen and Brinkly, as the latter was washing
and drying himself, but they never spoke a word. Sud
denly Allen, mimicking the tone of the school master,
cried out : “ Asa Boatright and Sam Pate go to horsin.”
In a moment they all burst into shouts of laughter.
Asa mounted on Sam’s hack, and Sam pranced around
and neighed, oh, so gaily ! Allen got a switch, and
made as if he would strike Asa, and that young gentle
men, for the first time in the performance of this inter
esting exercise, screamed with delight instead of pain.
“ Let Asa be the schoolmaster,” shouted Allen.
“Good morning, Air. Boatright,” said he, with mock
humility. “ Air. Boatright, may Igo out,” asked tim
idly, half a dozen boys.
Asa dismounted, and seizing a hickory, he stood up
in the middle of the floor, and the others formed the cir
cus round him. Here they came and went, jumping
over his switch, and cryjng out, and stooping to rub
their legs, and begging him to stop—for God’s sake,
Air. Boatright, stop. Suddenly, an idea struck Air.
Boatright. Disbanding the circus, he cried out:
“You, Isr’l Meadows, come up here, sir. Been a
fightin’, haye you, sir? Come up, sir. Oh! here you
are,” and Mr. Boatright fell upon the teacher’s chair;
and of all the thrashings which a harmless piece of
household furniture ever did receive, from the days that
mankind first ceased to sit upon the ground an and on
cushions, up to the present, that unlucky chair did there
and then receive doubtless the worst. Boatright called
it names—he wore out evory switch upon it—he drag
ged it over the floor—he threatened to burn it up—he
knocked it against the wall: one of its rounds falling
out, he beat it most unmercifully with it; and, at last,
exhausted by the exercise, he indignantly kicked it out
of doors, amid the screams and shouts of his schoolfel
lows, who now all gathered up their hats and bonnets,
and books and slates, and went off cheerily to their sev
eral homes.
This is what happened that morning at the Goose
pond. And if anybody asks the reason why I have ta
ken five chapters to relate the incidents of one morning,
all occurring at the same place, let him read the follow
ing aneepote, which I heard many years ago :
A negro man came to his master to inform him of the
death of both his oxen. ■■■■<•’ >
“Master, one ofdem steers is dead.”
“ Which one ?”
“ Sam.”
“Ah! well, you must get a yoke-fellow for Lion'”
“ Lion’s dead, too.”
“ The dickens! ‘Why didn’t you tell me that at first,
you fool ?” -
“Master, I was afraid you couldn’t bar it.”
Telegraphic dispatches state thatpyery member of the
House of Representatives in Congress, favorable to the
admission of Kansas with the Lecompton Constitution,
was in his seat at the time Mr. Stephens called up the
bill on Wednesday, with the exception of Mr. Caruth
ers, of Missouri, who was absent in consequence of sick
ness.
‘Tom, you sot,’ said a temperance man to a tip
pling fridn'd,•‘wha't “ftiakc's you drmk sucjvstuff as you
do? Why, the very hogs wouldn’t drink that brandy.’
‘That’s cause they is brutes,’ said Toni. ‘Poor crea
tures! they 1 don’t know what’s good. 1
[A carp.]
TO TIIE PEBEIC.
I have been informed. by undoubted authority, that
some low-lived, insignificant puppy has put in circula
tion a leport calculated to injure my character where I
am not known; and not having sufficient grounds to
justify my making a personal attack upon the scoundrel,
I takefthis method of informing the honest citizens of
Greene county jtjit ttyo ropoft ,js hot true, and I deny it
most emphatically. ‘ ’• “.i
The report is,'that during the trial of a suit recently
trifid in'this county between-Elder* and Poullain, Dolvin
Hunt and inyself were bribed by defphdAn't to give a
verdict in his favor- Wboeyer says (I’ care not who
they be) that the defendant influenced ‘ me in any man
ner whatever,’■io give a verdict in his favor, is a poor,
debased, cowardly skunk, who acts on the principle
that every man is to be considered dishonest because he
is dishonest himself. God knows, and honest men
know, I gave the verdict as my conscience dictated, and
never was there even a hint from any one to decide as I
did. Twoukjl havfi.decided as i did nau bvtl. parties been
entire strangers 6r intinYaie' FrlehitsV’ J Jodjk Upon Mr.
Poullain as being a gentleman of too high a Sense of
honor to oiiof h bj,fbe djd lie cyeti kfroW* that by so doing
he could gain the cash; and by pot (t he would
lose his last dollar. I look upon the crime'he commit
ted as being a great wrong; he feels it—he knows it,
and J believe honestly he lias repented for it, still the
cry is, persecute hlpi! nefep.cute him ! away with him.
Let ing'apk whp these dp up notations ppmp fyqm ? From
men Whft'pccupy respectgblp places in society; but
whose hearts, fcotiid they he seen as they really arc, to
the public, would be pregnant with the blackest crimes
that were ever recorded upon the annals of our country.
Yes ! the blood of some of these hypocrites is coursing,
to-day, the veins of some gentleman’s carriage driver.
I care not what mean men think of me ; I take this me
thod Qpjy those jyhodo npt know ipeas I am
from fprmifig ar( iiipof-rept itfpa'Q'f pip Trpfi) what men
stepppd’ in pfime tpjj tijqps darker than was ever com
niiliod iiy ft f’OHviPt j‘n pur gtat£ prison, may say of me.
Penfield, April 5, 1858 JI, Af, fO^TER.
TRIBUTE OF RESPECT.
Ciceronian Hall, April 2d, 1858.
A meeting of the Sophomore class of Mercer Univer
sity haying been p ; t}l|c|d for the punioac of naming some
tribute of respect to the nibffidry prone 6? tneif munbter,
Mr, S. L. Peebles, wfio departed this life on tlje l9tihst;
it ww ntavsd thfit atmmnmiMVfive b# appointed.
dralt suitable rtmolutioms. This committee, censUring
of Messrs. Matthews, Carson, McCall, Harris a*2
Proctor, submitted the following, which were unani
mously adopted i
Whereas, we, the Sophomore Class of Mercer Uni
versity are pollpt} upon to lament the untimely death of
Ottr"beloVed"efaesniAfp, Mr. S/L'. Peebles, We are desi
rous, in so doing, of expressing, not only sorrow at the
soypffinpp of ties which half endeared him to us all, but
also our high npprsdittipu ot virtues w|l|ch adorned
his life. He had been among us but a short time, yet
long enough to display traits of character which pro
clnipied him both the Christian and gentleman. Reti
ring in ipanpef and etgdipps > n Habits, hjs example was
giving tone to our University and inspiring respect in
ail who knew him t therefore, be it
l.<, Resolved, That while we bow to the will of Him
who is all merciful and wise, we would nevertheless re
cord our sense of the loss we have sustained.
2</, Resolved, That in the death of our friend and
classpm'te, MV. X L. Peebles, we have sustained an ir
reparable joss, but me,comforted with the hope that our
lops js his eternal, an,in v ~ ,
3d, Resolved, That we deeply sympathise with his
afflicted relatives, and that a copy of these,resolutions
be transmitted to them, and that the same be published
in the Crusader and Index.
4th, Resolved, That wc attend his funeral in a body
ind wetr the usual badge of mourning thirty days. <
G; A. MATHEWS, V
f M. PROCTOR, |
M. N. m’cat.l, ■ Ccm. 1
1. P. CARSON, 1
/. HARRIS. J
FOREIGN NEWS.
General Intelligence.
Nothing of much interest had transpired in Parlia
ment. The East India Loan Bill, after much discussion
in Parliament, had been passed.
Count Persigny had resigned the French mission in
London. [Rumors were current a week before in Paris,
that the Count would resign this mission, and take the
place of Count Walewski, as Minister of Foreign Af
fairs in France.]
It was currently stated that the French navy was to be
placed on a war looting.
Il was confidently stated in Madrid that the vexed
questions between Spain and Mexico had been amica
bly settled.
The United States sloop-of-war Cumberland, the flag
ship of the African squadron, had been in very immi
nent peril during a hurricane off the Island of Madei
ra. Two of her men were lost during the storm.
We have dates from Canton to January 28th. No re
ply up to that time had been received from the Empe
ror. The allied forces would ascend the Ho river with
a fleet of gun boats, manned with four hundred French
and one thousand English from the garrison at Canton.
The English were erecting strong works on the Island
of Berim.
There is afurther deficiency in Teas reported.
Washington, Alarch 31. —In the Senate to-day the
Minnesota bill was amended so as'to allow two repre
sentatives, until a census was taken.
The .Georgia Penitentiary has opened the spring sea
son with brighter prospects than ever. The prospect is
now good for an abundant harvest of rascals.— Federal
Union, March 30.
A Youthful Candidate for the Gallows. —A slave
boy, eleven years of age, who confessed to the burning
ol Col. A Bayly’s residence, in Surry county, Va., has
been sentenced to death.
%
The Athens Watchman is credibly informed that in
Jefferson the other day a man who was very drunk hav
ing vomited in the street, some hogs passing along
stopped and helped themselves to as much as they
wanted, and shortly thereafter died, notwithstanding
the efforts that were made to save them ! What killed
the hogs? Was it the strychnine in the whisky? Who
will dring buckeye whiskey after this?
“ The bloom or blight of all men's happiness.”
On Tuesday, the 18th inst., by the Rev. J.H. Harris,
Air. Troup Perryjian, and Aliss Leonora Ward, all
of Randolph county, Ga.
In Putnam county, Ga., on the 23d inst., by the Rev.
Wm. Arnold, Mr. Mark A. Hubert of Americus, and
Aliss Rebecca A. Marshal, of the former county.
When coldness wraps this suffering clay,
All! whither strays the immortal mind !
It cannot die—it cannot stay,
But leaves its darkened dust behind.”
Died In this city, On the 23d instant, of Consumption,
Mr. William S. Williford, in the 37th year es his
age.
Air. Williford was a native of Greenville, S. C. At
an early age he settled in Savannah, and about 14 years
ago, removed to Macon, where he continued to reside
until his death. The distressed always found in him a
sympathizer, and the virtuous a friend. Every enter
prise calculated to suppress vice or advance morality
obtained his sanction and support. He was a zealous
advocate of tho Temperance Reform, a worthy Mason
and an humble and consistent Christain.
In his domestic relations he was a kind Father an af
fectionate Brother, a dutiful sonand a'devoted fyqsbarid.
His illness was protracted and painful, yet he was
never known to murmer, and through his indomitable
energy continued in the discharge of busines, almost
until the day of his death.
His upright and honorable deporUnent endeared him
to the community, and he died regretted and respected
by all who knew him. His remains were followed to
the tomb by the Masonic fraternity, the Alacon Volun
teers (oi which he was a member) and a large con
course offriends, all testifying that a worthy man has
departed.
He leaves a deeply afflicted family, who deserve and
will receive the sympathies of the community.
A Friend.
Died, at his residence in Floyd county, Ga. on the
12th of November last, in the 31st year of his age, Dr.
James T. Bond. In 18<6, he professed religion and
joined the Methodist church, in which he continued a
faithful member to his death. He was zealous to im
prove the moral condition of his neighborhood ; and in
his last hours, was able to testify that all was well as to
his future prospects. He said to his wife he was per
fectly willing to die—dont weep for me: I have no leara
but you will be taken care of. : He leaves, also, a little
daughter, an only child, on whose tender ‘being he
poured out his heartVlaSt blessing. HeVas a member
of the masonic fraternity. Will’ not the brethren look
aftef that daughter? Blessed are the dead that die in
the Lord : yes, saith the Spirit, they rest from their la
bor, and their works do follow them.” C. F.
PRESENTMENTS OF THE GRAND JURY
OF GREENE COUNT?. “
The Grand Jury, selected, chosen and sworn for
March Term qf Grpene Superior Cpurt, 1858, beg leave,
respectfully, to niulte the following General Present
ments :
We have examined, through committees, the roads
and bridges, the books of the County Treasurer, of the
Clerk of the Superior and Inferior Courts, and of the
Ordinary ; also, the Court-house and Jail. We find
the roads and bridges, generally, in tolerably good or
der, with the exception of the bridge across the north*
prong of Little Riyor, which is much out of repair;
also, the road leading from Madison fb Poivllain’s bridge;
between Little and Big Green Brier creeks, (especially
at the ford of Ljttle Green Brier,) is in bad condition,
and we hereby request the proper authorities to have
this road and the butttnent of the bridge across Little
River, put in good repair. We also recommend, that
the proper authorities have the bridge across Ogccheo,
on the road leading fr om Bethany to Bethesda, “ put in
good order.
We have examined the Treasurer’s books, and fmd
them neatly and well kept. There was in his hands,
on the 9th ofMarch, 1857, sixteen hundred and fifty
three dollars and fifty-seven cents, front which the suin
ofeleven hundred and ninety dollars and twenty-e;xl. •
centsihas been disbursed, for all of which \re hrufiriiji
per and satisfactory-vouchers, leaving ndwin Iris hands
a balance of four hundred and dollars and
nine cents. - -• < • • * *t
We ltaye examined the Ordinary’s bookg, and find
them neatly and cowWity item. Thp arrangement'm
the books and papers of the office is most'excellent, ants
reflects much credit upon the Ordinary. We find a bal
ance of sixty, three dollars and ninety cents in the hands
of the Ordinary, for Poor School purposes. It is also
estimated, that it will require a tax of thirty per cent,
upon the State Tax, to meet the demands of the present
year. We therefore recommend, that the Ordinary levy
that r mount.
We.hay^,pxamined the Court-house and Jati.and find
them in good order, anil the'Jail safe and elettrily. .Th*
Clerk’s books of th'e Irifeijibri and ‘Superior Courts, ate
well kept, the entries being properly made,’ and carriccj
forward with the 1 necessary ipdpxps,’ reflecting much
credit upon the officer. .... -
We call the special attention of the Tax Receiver tg
the law in relation to free negroes and nominal slayes.
We also recommend tq tfie Inferior Court, to have pro
per fastenings |p the windo\vrsluitters on the Court
house.
In closing our arduous and protracted labors of nearly
two weeks, and in taking leave of his Honor, Judge
Hardeman, we respectfully lender him out most cor
dial thanks, for the prompt and efficient manner in
which he has so ably discharged hit official duties du
ring the tem pf tips opp-f, / ....
Our thanks'are equally due, and hereby tendered tq
the Solicitor Gfindpaj, Wm. A- Lqftan,, for tfie aid and
legal adyice with which he‘has favored us, apd sos his
courteous and gentlemanly intercourse with us, while
in the prosecution ofour investigations.
We request that these Presentments be published in
the Weekly Gazette and Temperance Crusader.
R. H. WARD, Foreman. W TUGGLE,, Senior.
’ J T FIND'LBW V CMAWFURD,
DAVID. LESLIE, JO UN eOECSLQVGH,
THOMANMILLER, S D DURHAM, ;V
“ii* •. x c. A^mithisD,
GREENE MOORE, T H SMITH,
B E SPENCER, J R PARKER,
R lIURLBERT, J F WRIGHT,
/A THOtfNTQN, ilf F FOSTER,
On motion pf W A Lofton, Esq., Solicitor General,
it is ordered that the loregoing Presentments be pub
llshed in accordance with the request of the Grand Jurv
A true extract Irom the minutes, this 3d April 1858
VINCENT SANFORD? cierk.
Notice to Town Tax-Payers,
Vp Commissioners for
JLJ* the I own of Penfield, all defaulting Tax-payers
are h ueby notified that executions will be issued against
all who do not pay within ten days. B
April 8, 1858 J AMES Armstrong, Clerk.
A LL persons are forewarned against trading fdr*a
miif ole -ru 53 held b y franklin Moori against
myseit. Ihe considerations for which the note
given having failed, I decline paying it.
April 8, 1358 IF. IF. DURHAM.
M’OTlCE.'—' j Iwo months after date, application
will be made to the Court of Ordinary of Newton
couipy sot leave to sell the west half of lot No. 2401 irt
the 1 ith district of Henry'county, belonging to. the ti
tate of Thomas Beall, late of Newton county, decer rod.
April 8,1858 SHELLY DOWNS, Ad^r.