Richards' weekly gazette. (Athens, Ga.) 1849-1850, October 20, 1849, Image 2

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“Ladies, you are all mistaken about Mr. Ktliston. He is neither a poor mechanic, or a very wealthy man. He had an only and beloved sister, who lost all her fortune when te hail just come of ape He placed her on his estate, allowing her all the pro ceeds. He entered a mechanic’s school, determining to make a support in the way his practised mind dictated. His sister’s, fortune, in the last few months, has been restored, and therefore he has received his hack. This, although not very large, en ables httn to get a wife, if he desires one; and tirs standing and family, with which 1 am intimately acquainted, authorize him to otfer his name even to the proud and high minded Charlotte Carey.” Oh, truth! oh, honesty! why do you de stroy these gorgeous superstructures of creative genius ? Again and again they will arise, like magnificent castles in the air, bearing the semblance of reality, but , yet fading and ever fading away before the ‘ light of tiuth. Honesty, with his leveling touch, dispels the cherished illusions, and they disappear, to rise again and again in some more remote and airy region. We might accompany our young friends through many agreeable and interesting scenes, and exhibit them before you in all their pleasing variety ; but I forbear, hav ing already informed you that they have entered into the sanctum sanctorum of life. Mr. and Mrs. Oliver contributed not a lit tle to their happiness and pleasure—for they were happy themselves, and they were pleased that those they loved should be united on the journey of liie. They fell and aily the gentle influence of benevo lent natures, so that they imparted to all with them the true joy of the heart. Miss Ormstead was certainly correct in one piece of her news—for instance, that they were to be married very soon—Mr. Elliston to Miss Charlotte, and Mr. Geffrics to Miss Emma Carey. They then went to Savannah, where Mr. Geffries and Emma concluded to reside for the Winter. Charles and Charlotte soon left for Maryland, where, we think, at this very time, the old family mansion is made mirthful with the voicesof the young and happy. Presiding at the head of the establishment, is that tall and dignified aunt, who is the very soul and sun-light of the house. Genevra Dupon. has regain ed that freshness and beauty she had lost by suffering. Her face is as joyous, her stcpVis elastic, her mirthful laugh resounds as merrily as ever, through the old halls. Rut when Miss Elliston raises her white, tapering forefinger, and says, “Beware, my child, of impulse,” she invariably gives a moment of thoughtful remembrance to the past. Mr. and Mrs. Oliver, with their children and the Georgia brother, are also thjre, on a visit. This re-unlon is worthy the admiration of angels! Those ideas whicTi have been clustering in the mind of weak humanity, have been exhibited before Georgians! Those de n-aivt. wo *.*,u offprt the very Dasi* of society, have been elucidated by practi cal incidents. The remedy—-the corner stone of anew era—may have made its appearance amid the mystifications of an inexperienced style. We hope there are few Duponts, yet it is not to his character or fate we wish to call your attention, but particularly to the fact, that the marriage settlement was of no avail. This is too general an occurrence to be denied. How many women there are, cheated of their inheritance! How many there are, who have their own meted out to them, a mere pittance, from parsimo nious hands! How many children there are, who are r.ot only supported by the property of others, but in course of time, have it awarded to them by law! Is this right ? Is tins wise 1 Can it be accord ing to the true policy of a wise and liberal government ? The crumb has been “cast upon the wa ters may the eddy that hears it to the “lords” of the land, take to them also, con victions of its truth and of its importance! May they exhibit a noble freedom from parsimony, from selfishness, from a fortune hunting spirit, by giving to the rising gen eration anew incentive to personal exer tion 1 And may the women of Georgia, poor and rich, live to Mess the happy in fluence of Georgia laws. American Lithographic Stone. —A’ quarry of fine lithographic stone has been 1 discovered by Dr. H. McKenzie at Talla dega, in Alabama. The lithographic stone 1 heretofore employed in this country, have all been imported from Germany. The 1 American stone is stated to he as good as ihe foiVign. This will be a great benefit 1 to the art, as it will no doubt be obtained much cheaper at home than to import it. Taxes of Literary Men.— The fol lowing gentleman pay the taxes assessed against their names, as appears from the Tax List published m Cambridge: Henry W. Longfellow, $l6O 78 ; James Russel Lowell, SB3 16. This is pretty well for poets. Edward Everet, $114: Prof. Fel ton, $93 12; Prof. Norton, SBB4 52—the largest in the city : John G. Palfrey, $lO7 02. A Dutch Sronv I and profiler Utilise and two other togs vas out hunting next week, and we trove nine woodchucks into a stone heap and k ill ten out of the nine be fore tev cot in. A N'ovei. Amusement : try it.—Some times, to amuse myself, 1 give a beggar a guinea, lie thinks it is a mistake, and for fear 1 should find It out, off he runs as hard as he can. 1 advise you to give a beggar a guinea cometirncs it is very amusing. Potatoes, —The Salem Gazette says that several hundred bushels of potatoes, fresh ly dug, and apparently in a healthy condi tion, were stored in the cellar of the city almshouse, a short time ago; hut they rot ted with such rapidity, and emitted so of fensive a smell, that it was found necessa ry to remove them forthwith. ‘f S fla fl &A Jl/Y, CATCHING A WHALE. A SEA SKETCH. We were running down from the Alba dra Islands with a fine steady breeze. The morning was bright and clear, and the wa ter of lhat peculiar color which whalemen regard as the favorable resort of whales. I had ihe forenoon watch below, and was just congratulating myself upon getting through with my “ double altitudes,” when the loud clear voice of a man at the mast head came ringing down the forecastle. “ There she blows !” was the thrilling cry. “That’s one,” shouted the captain. “There she blows.” “ That’s twice, by jingo!” “ There she blows 1” “ Three times! Where away, Tabor?” “Off the weather-bow, sir, two points.” “ How far?” “ A mile and a half. There she blows.” “ Sperm whale! Call all hands’” There was a general rush on deck, each man trying to get to the scuttle first. Then came a half dozen loud knocks, and a hoarse voice, shouting, “Larboard watch, ahoy! Turn out my lads! Sperm whale in sight! Heave out! Lash and carry! Rise and chime! Bear a hand, my hearties !” Those who had turned in, rolled out as soon as possible and buckled on their ducks, and in less than two minutes we were all on deck, ready for orders. The tubs were put in the bout, and the main yard hauled hack. We all perched ourselves in the rigging, and kept a sharp lookout on every side for the whale’s next rising. Twenty minutes elapsed since the spout was first seen ; twenty-five passed, and the captain began to get into a state of nervous anxie ty. We strained our eyes in all directions to ‘• make a spout.’ Half an hour flew by and no spout was seen. It began to look like a hopeless case, when Tabor, whose visual organ appeared to have the power of übiquity, sang out— “ There she blows!” “ Where now?” roared the captain. “ Off the weather quarter! Two large sperm whales, sir. Go it, boots!” “Clear away the boats! Come down from the mast-head all you that don’t be long there! Bear a hand! We'll take them this rising. ” shouted the captain, in a load voic c. “All ready, sir.” “ Lower away, then !” The waist and larboard boats were in stantly down, ready to 1 bend off.’ Captain A , and some of the boat’s crew be ing too ill to man the other boat, we struck oil for the whales without them. I pulled the aft oar, as usual, and as, by this time, I was as tough and muscular as any of my comrades, the boat danced along the water in fine style. Although the larboard boat was much easier pulled, and had the oldest and stoutest of the whole crew, we con trived, by unusual exertions, to keep ahead of her, till the real ‘tug of war’ came.— Then was our mettle put to test! One of the whales was leisurely making to wind ward, not more than half a mile off. “ Ltiy hack, my lads!” cried P , pale with excitement. “Keepthe larboard boat astern ! Never say die ! That’s our whale! Oh, do spring—do spring! No noise, steady and soft's the word.” We replied to this appeal ‘piling up the agony’ on the oars. Away sprang our boat, trembling and shivering as she darted through the waves. She really seemed to imbibe the general excitement, as she part ed the clear blue water, and dashed it foaming from her bows. Onward she flew ! The larboard boat was hard upon our stern ; the whale rolling lazily in the trough of the sea, a few darts ahead. “Oil, lay hack!” whispered P , trembling with eagerness not to be outdone by the mate. “ l)o spring, my boys, if you love life! Now's your time! Now or never! Oh, see him! see him ! how quiet he lies! Put the beef on your oars, every mother's son of you ! Pile it on ! pile it on! That's the way to tell it! Our whale this time!” “Stand up, Tabor!” cried P , in a low voice. Peaking his oar, Tabor sprang to his feet and grasped a harpoon. “Shall I give him two irons'?” “Yes; he may he wild.” Another stroke or two and we were hard upon him. Tabor, with unerring aim, let fly his irons, and buried them to the sockets in the huge carcass of the whale. ‘ Stern all!” thundered P . “ Stern all !” echoed the crew but it was too late. Our bows were high and dry on , the whale’s head ! Infuriated with the pain produced by the harpoon, and doubt . less much astonished to find his head so i roughly used, he rolled half over, lashing the sea with his flukes, and in his strug gles dashing in two of the upper planks. • “Boat stove, boat stove !” was the general cry. ! “Silence!” thundered the second mate, I ns he sprang to the bow, and exchanged 1 places with Tabor. “ All safe, my hearties ! 1 stern hard! stern ! stern ! stern ! before he gets his flukes to bear upon us.” “ Stern all!” shouted we: in a moment more we were out of danger. The whale now “turned flukes,” and dashed off to 1 windward with the speed of a locomotive, nrtl O GI IAS E) 8 9 1 towing us after him at a glorious rate.— We occasionally slacked line in order to give him plenty of play. k . A still’ breeze had sprung up, causing a , rough chopping sea; and we leaked badly jut the bow. It fell to my lot to keep the water bailed out and the line clear as the i others hauled in; a ticklish job, the last; for, as the second mate said, a single turn I would whip oil’ a shm : “slick as goose | grease.” Notwithstand the roughness of the sea. we shot ahead with incredible swiftness ; and the way we walked past the larboard boat, whose crew was tugging and labor ing with all their might, was surprising. “ Hoora for the waist boat!” burst from every mouth. Three cheers were given, much to the annoyance of the other boat’s crew and mate. We exultingly took off our hats and waved them a polite “good bye,” requesting them, if they had any news to send to the windward ports, to be quick about it, as it was inconvenient for us to stop just then. I believe Solomon says it is not good to be vain-glorious. At all events, while we were skimming along so gallantly, the whale suddenly milled, and pitched the boat on her beam ends. Every one who could grasp a thwart hung on to it, and we were all fortunate enough to keep our seats. For as much as a ship’s length the boat flew through the water, on her gun wale, foaming and whizzing as she dashed onward. It was rather a matter of doubt as to which side would turn uppermost, until Tabor slacked out the line, when she righted. To haveaboat, with all her iron, lances, gear, and oars, piled on one’s head in such a sea, was rather a startling pros pect to the best swimmer. Meanwhile the whale came to the sur face to spout. The change in his course had enabled the mate’s boat to come up, and we lay on our oars that Mr. D might lance him. He struck him in the “life” the first dart, was evident from the whale’s furious dying struggle; neverthe less, in order to make sure, we hauled up and churned a lance back of his head. I cannot conceive anything more strik ingly awful than the butchery of the tre mendous leviathan of the deep. Foaming and leaping and plunging from wave to wave, flinging high in the air torrents of blood and spray. The sea around was literally a sea of blood. A‘. one moment his head was poised in the air, the next buried him in the gory pool of foam and slime. But this respite was short. He rose again, rushing furi ously on his enemies: but a slight prick of the lance drove him back with mingled fury and terror. Which ever way he turn ed, the barbed irons goaded him to despera tion. Now and again intensity of agony would cause him ‘o lash the water with his huge flukes, till the very ocean appear ed to heave and tremble at his power.— Tossing, struggling, dashing over in his agony, he spouted up the last of his heart’s blood. Half an hour before, he was free as the wave, sporting in all the pride of its gigantic strength and unrivalled power.— He now lay a lifeless mass; his head to wards the sun, his tremendous body heav ing to the swell, and his destroyers proud ly cheering over theii victory.— Brown's Whaling Cruise. DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IRON AND STEEL. Steel is iron passed through a process which is called cementation, the object of which is to impregnate it with caibon.— Carbon exists more abundantly in charcoal than in any other fusible substance, and the smoke that goes up from a charcoal forge is carbon in a fluid state. Now, if you can manage to confine that smoke, and put a piece of iron into it for several davs, and heat the iron at the same time it will become steel. Heating the iron opens its pores, so that the smoke, or carbon can enter into it. The furnace for this purpose isa conical building of brick, in the middle of which are two troughs of brick or stone, which hold about four tons of bar iron. At the bottom is a large grate for the fire. A layer of charcoal dust is put upon the bot tom of the troughs, then a layer of bar iron; and so on alternately, until the troughs are full. They are the covered over with clay, to keep out the air, which, if admitted, would prevent the cementa tion. Fire is then communicated to the wood and coal with which the furnace is filled, and continued until the conversion of the iron into steel is completed, which gen erally happens in about eight or ten days. This is known by the blisters on the liars, which the workmen occasionally draw out in order to determine. When the con version is completed, the lire is then left to go out, and the bars remain in the furnace about eight days more, to cool. The bars of steel are then taken out, and either sold as blistered steel, or drawn to a convenient size, when it is called tilt ed steel. German steel is made out of this blistered steel, by breaking the bars into short pieces, and welding them together, drawing them down to a proper size for use. . - -i mm - FOOD MADE OF INDIAN CORN MEAL. Carlyle, in an able article on the uses of Indian Corn Meal, says, “The Valley of the Mississippi is able to raise food enough to supply the whole world.” Alluding to the Indian Corn Meal that had been im ported by England (luring the dearth of 18- 47, lie says, that again and again he tried a mess of Indian meal porrige, hut it had “a musty taste—it never wanted a disa greeable tang. In vain was it washed, in vain was the meal boiled, the musty tan” was still there.” He finally came to the conclusion that all the Americans had said about the sweets of hominy was mere stuff. Last year, however, he got a present of some excellent, well-kept corn from an A mcrican friend, which has altered his old views about hominy entirely. He now be lieves it to be an ambrosial dish, fit for a prince or a poet. We are glad that Uncle John has received a palatable dish for once, from Brother Jonathan. It would be well for the poor of Britain, if thisarticle of food was more generally used by them. If the corn be kiln dried, and the meal well boil ed, t is sweeter than the meal made from oats, and contains far more nutriment to its specific gravity. There is a kind of meal made from Indian Corn that is very scarce in this city, and which sells at a too high price, we think. It is made of the inside of'.he berry—the whole hull being separa tee from it. It is as white as wheat flour and very palatable. The price as retailed is six cents per quart. This is a kind of food which would answer admirably as a substitute for oatmeal, to the inhabitants of Britain, and the northern kingdoms of Eu rope, who have been accustomed to an oat meal diet. America might drive a most e.x tensite corn trade with Britain, if the in habitants of that country fully appreciated the good ness of Indian Corn Meal food. We wish to throw all the light we can upon this subject, as we know that Carlyle is cor rect respecting the capacity of America to supply any quantity of it. A valuable improvement has recently been made by Mr. Oliver P. Stevens, of Ohio City, in the manufacture of hominy. We have received a sample of it by a gen tleman who lias come from that place. It is a great article of food, Carlyle would smack his lips after a meal of it, with true ahmentive gusto. The Hon. H. L. Ells worth, ex-Commissioner of Patents, has ad vised Mr. Stevens to take out a patent for the manufacture. We have a piece of advice to give our dispepsicai friends, and those engaged in sedentary occupations, and then we are done. It is this. Take each a soup plate ful of hominy and sweet milk for breakfast every morning, and if you chose, “a cup of coffee afterwards.” If you follow after this advice, you will soon give evidence of the truth of tire old adage, “ Laugh and grow fat.” DISCOVERIES IN ART. A French paper states that Monsieur Jauron has just discovered the famous Naiad, all trace of which has been lost for many years. It was discovered pure and unimpaired in the subterranean vaults of the Louvre, where it has lain ever since 1824. What is perhaps, equally curious, although perhaps less valuable, is the dis covery, in the same hiding-place of the famous apparatus for lighting the statue gallery at night, which was executed by order of Napoleon, and of which all trace has been lost ever- since the Restoration. This discovery was hailed with delight by all lovers of art, and apparatus is to be ap plied immediately to its original purpose. A grand soiree will be given in the course of the month to artists of all denominations who may be at the time in Paris ; all na tions are to be invited, and the experiment tried for lighting the gallery. The appa ratus is said to have cost the government under the Empire more than 100,000 francs, and to be the result of the united effoats of all the great physicians of that day.— Sci. American. WONDERS OF GEOLOGY. More than nine thousand different kinds of animals have been changed into stone. The races of genera of more than half of these are now extinct, not being at present known in a living state upon the earth.— From the remains of some of these ancient animals, they must have been larger than any living animals now known upon the earth. The Megatherium, (Great Beast) says Buckland, from a skeleton, nearly perfect, now in the Museum at Madrid, was perfectly colossal. With a head and neck like those of the Sloth, its legs and feet exhibit the character of the Armadillo and the Ant-eater. Its fore feet were a yard in length, and more than twelve inches wide, terminated by gigantic claws. Its thigh bone was nearly three times as thick as that of the elephant; and its tail, near est the body, was :.i.x feet in circumference. Its tusks were admirably adapted for cutt ing vegetable substances, and its general structure and strength were intended to fit it for digging in the ground for roots, on which it principally fed.— Bucklamfs Treatise. fi> D J 5 IF IE Y ♦ OUR ELLIE. Tread softly in this hallowed ground, Break not the silent shmihercr’s sleep ; Beneath this little yellow mound Our darling Ellie lies asleep. Two years ago, when just the same The summer walked upon the hills, From brighter realms than this he cam?, To lessen, with his smiles, our ills. Too like an angel from his birth, He never knew the taint of sin ; $o the last hour he lived on earth Was lovelier than the first had been. As faint and fainter burned the (lame Os life a mother could not keep, Murmuring with trembling lips her name, Chir blessed Kliie fell asleep. Then here to slumber on alone, Wc laid him in the earth below. And withhim to tho grave weut down That mother's breaking heart of woo I Vet, mourner, in thy dark despair, O. weep not hopeietsty for him ; Though tho bright sunlight of his hair Long in the earknoss shall grow dim! The blessed promise of his word To ,ouls like thiue did le-us give, ! And in the kingdom of our Lord, . uchebildreu a- our l.llie live ‘ f I’mri’E Car SUNDAY READINGS October 21, 1849. 1 > tup: danger of temptation. “ Watch and [ ray that ye enter not into temp tation.—Matt, xxvi, 41. This was the language of Jesus to three of his disciples, in the garden of Gethsem ane; and it is a suitable counsel to all his followers. Observe The danger to which, we are exposed. Entering into temptation. Let us notice The care that should he taken. We must not cherislrthe thought of sin; the revolv ing of it in our mind is the first step in the passage of temptation. We must not ex pose ourselves to the occasion of sin. When the mind is unoccupied, it is a fa vorable time for the enemy. It is the sit ting, not the flying bird, that is the fowler’s mark. We must not parley with sin. Eve was overcome by this. In the hour of temptation, side not with your corrup tions, but with your convictions. We must not enter upon the course of sin. Ap proach not the borders of temptation. We should keep at such a distance from break ing the law, that, as the rabbis say, we should not touch even the hedge that gaurds it. 27/ e reason why we should evince this care. We will give four. The craft of the enemy. We have a subtle foe to deal with, who assumes a thousand different forms to entice and entangle us. The weakness of our hearts. 11 How weak is thine heart!” says God.—Ezek. xvi. 30. How soon are we overcome, and yield to temptation ! Our personal comfort. W hen we turn aside into the way of temptation, how destructive is it to the peace of our minds! The honor of religion. How ma ny, by yielding to the suggestions of the enemy, have brought a disgrace on religi on, and caused the way of truth to be evil spoken of! Let us seek help from our Great High Priest, who “ in that he suffer ed being tempted, he is able to succor them that are tempted.” Fast.— The Governor of North Carolina has appointed Thursday, Nov. 15, as a day’ of Thanksgiving and prayer. QDUns [grJTfiSLftg* For Richarda’ Weekly Gazette* A NEW COIN. Mr. Editor: The issue of a seven cent coin, under the denomination of the ‘ Septi ceut,’ has been suggested in your paper. The comparative advantages of this issue with that of a three cent coin has been dis cussed in the National Intelligencer of an earlier date. Still a third suggestion would be the issue of a two cent coin, the advan tages of which I have no where seen pre sented. The coin of three cent value might be conveniently denominated the ‘Tri-cent,’ and the two cent coin, the ; Bi cent.” From the table appended to this article it will be seen that either the Tri-cent or Bi-cent possesses manifest advantages over the Septi-cent, both as to the number of pieces and the aggregate value involved in making change. The question of con venience lies therefore between these two coins. The controlling consideration which should decide upon their relative advant ages, is one which of itself would exclude the claims of the Septi -cent. This con sideration is, conformity to the ultimate reduction in the rates of postage. Should the postage on letters be reduced to three cents, the Tri -cent would be the proper is sue—if to two cents, the Bi-cent, for the same reason. Aside from this consideration, the Bi cent has the advantage : First, because it involves a somewhat smaller value in ma king change than the Tri-cent, Secondly, because being smaller than tne Gold Dol lar, it will be more easily distinguished from it, should that beautiful little coin be continued in use. Third, anil most impor tant of the reasons, because it alone of all the coins proposed, is an exact measure of any existing coin. A dime, for example, can he changed into Bi-cents but not into either Tri-cents or Septi.cents. There are coins of which the Bi-cent is nota measure, it is true, but of several coins it is a meas ure. There is no single coin of which either the Tri-cent or Septi-cent is a meas ure. In our own State there is less need felt for a smaller coinage than in those more thickly settled. The advantages with us are confined mainly to cities and post of fices. Those, however, who can recollect the shifts to which our own ancestors were reduced, when population was still scantier than at present —the half and quarter dol lars, themselves halved and quartered— can appreciate the changes required by the necessities of a denser population. It has been our object to show that when another coinage is thus rendered necessary, Tri cents or Bi-ccnts offer advantages superior to Septi-cents in subserving the purposes’ of SMALL CHANGE. Table showing the advantages of the different proposed issues in making change: Change required- Fiece§ required. Nu. of piece*. Aggregate value. 1 cent 1 dime & 1 half dime leas 2 septi-cents 4 29 ct*. 1 “ 2 tri-cents less 1 half dime 3 11 “ 1 “ 1 half dime less 2 bi-cents 8 9 “ 2 cents 1 septi-cent less 1 half dime 2 11 “ 2 “ 1 half dime less 1 tri-cent 2 8 “ 2 “ 1 bi-cent 1 2 t( 3 cents 1 dime less 1 septi-cent 2 17 “ 3 “ 1 tri-cent 1 3 “ 3 “ 1 half dime less 1 bi-cent 2 7 “ 4 cents 2 septi-cents less 1 dime 3 24 “ 4 “ 1 dime less 2 tri-cents S 16 ** 4 “ 2 bi-cents 2 4 “ Like results would follow from a con tinuation of the table. The first column for each number of cents is far septi-cents, the second for tri-cents, and the third for bi-cents. id J 3 C iE !L 1 i\ J'J df7~ THE WOULD. Whether men do laugh or weep, Whether they doe wake or sleep, Whether thy feele hear or cold. Whether they be young or old ; There is underneath the sun Nothing in true earnest dono. All our pride is hut a jest, None are worst and none are best, Griefe and joy, and hope and feare, Play their pageants everywhere ; Vaine opinion all doth sway And the world is but a play. Powers above in clouds doth sit, Making our poore apish wit, That so lamely without state, Their high glory imitate. No ill can be felt put paine, And that happy men disdame. [Wit Restored, 1640. THE UNIVERSAL YANKEE NATION. No land is too far —no nook too dark for their researches. If a taste for copper should lead you to the bottom of a Cornish mine there will be found one of the sover eigns of the great Republic; should a cool morning tempt you to the top of the grand Pyramid, you will find cousin Jonathan astride the apex. Theoasisof Sievah, the Dead Sea,the Chilian mountains, Beloochis tan and Timbuctoo all know his visits and have heard of the glory of his native cities. Should the north-west passage ever be discovered, a Yankee will probably be found there settled on a stranded ice-berg ; and some fine day we expect to hear that M. d’Abbadie has come upon a camp of Yankee Arabs, pic-nicing at the sources of the Nile. The adventures, energies, and powers of our cousin-german grow quite alarming. “ Rough and Ready” has ex tinguished Bonaparte; the march of Col. Doniphan into New Mexico has put down the retreat of the Ten Thousand ; ‘ Mardi’ has forever eclipsed Marco Paolo. Lieut. Wilkes has put down—but we must take breath. Time and space fail us before such an enumeration. An American has said of his countrymen, that the genuine Yankee would not be able to repose in Heaven itself, if he could go farther west ward. He must go ahead. Prophecy looks forward to the time when the valley of the Mississippi shall overflow with this restless population, and Europe be subject to anew migration. “ What do 1 consider the boundaries of my country, sir!” ex claimed a Kentuckian ; “ why, sir, on the east we are bounded by the rising sun— on the north by the aurora borealis —on the west by the procession of the Equi noxes —and on the south by the day of judgment!” CANINE REASONING. While I had charge of an academy in Springfield, (Ga.,) from 1829 to 1836, 1 de voted a few hours occasionally to angling. 1 went on horseback and took with me a large dog, which I had taught almost as a child, to guard my horse while engaged in the sport. I had accustomed myself to talk to him slowly but distinctly, and to show him how I had done this and that. I found that he understood me. If I said, “The weather is unfavorable, there will be no fishing to-day,” he would go oil’ and lie down apparently in sorrow ; but if I said, “It’safine day, we shall have sport enough,” he would jump around in the highest ex citement. One evening, at the old of the moon, the fish biting keenly, I had remained an hour after dark, and as I had left the horse un tied to graze and did not see him, I asked the dog—“ Tiger, where is the horse ?” lie conducted me to him, and, on my saying, “ You are a fine, intelligent dog,” he became overjoyed and began to bark at the horse. The horse became alarmed, and ran home. 1 then said to the dog—“ Tiger, do you see that you have frightened Saladin, and that now, tired and fatigued, I have to go home on foot ? Now mark me ! If you ever do it again, I will as certainly shoot you as I did the squirrel on the tree, or the bird in the air ? Do you hear 1 Mind ! As soon as you see my eye on the horse, do you go behind a pine-tree or bush, and then you may do as you please.” On the third evening I went again, and had forgotten myself the instruction given Tiger. I was again delayed. On my whistle he came to me, watched my eye as he con ducted me to the horse feeding in a small savannah, and as soon as I saw him went back and hid behind a large pine-tree. As soon as I had caught the horse and mou n t e j he came and with the strongest possible de monstration gave me evidence of bis se], complacency and joy. fle ever after f (> j, lowed th.tt instruction once given, fl. same dog toiled three hours to bring bar my horse who had escaped with his halt/, and had struck off to his former home. an,i finally seizing him by the halter, actually led him two miles back to his stable. soon as the horse was secured, the dog l av down exhausted by the long and persever ing effort. Here was reason. He heaid, he und er . stood, obeyed, in the exercise of memory judgement, reflection, determination. I n || J( last rnstance there was evidently deeper re flection and thought, and longer and mort persevering effort than many a child of tea years of age would hare exercised or made — lnvestigator. FALL FASHIONS; Thus early in the season, there are fev decided changes. Our ladies are balan cing between summer and winter. TV large mantalets are somewhat in vogue but the most decided novelty is anew style of sacque imported by Stewart, and being costly, are still the rage. They will worn upon the street now, and for opeu and concert dress through the winter. They are quite small, fitting closely to the figure, and are lined and wadded throughout. The favorite material is heavy cut velvet of ike richest green, blue garnet, purple and clar et shades. Turc satin, or a thick mantm silk, may also be used ; and there are some in plain colored cashmere and flannel, line, with silk. Some have no trimming at all, and can he worn so, or have an addition u elegant lace to suit the wearer; but the fa vorite style is a quilted or knotted horde’ of two inches in depth. The sleeves at* short, not reaching below the elbow, ar„ are set in at the shoulder. There is little variety in shawls; i l probably no striking novelties will be is-fl ported before another season. I Case ing bonnets, and variegated strain.B are worn, so far, by those who have mai/H any change. Most ladies prefer theirsua-l trier straw trimmed with a rich fall nbbirl and lined with a dark, bright-bued -.1 The ribbons are extremely beautiful. OkH of the prettiest patterns, presents the ayl pearance of autumn leaves, lapped one i r/fl the other slightly ; another is a rich, bma-M ileil centre, with one edge in deep scallu rM the other plain. ■ For dress stuff, we have first, silks, I---H cade and watered, with art infinite of older and plain styles. The greatest eltics are poplins id silk and linen ; they rl both watered and changeable and are : H nitely richer than the silks. Our rea can have some idea of their width, from : : .fl fact that they come in patterns of yards, a full dress, price two dollars ;>eH yard. Many prefer them to velvet eve. H The fashionable colors are black, <ia:lH green, blue, violet,and garnet. Cashim of every variety, and very rich, are nn^H opened. The Clementine has the apjie&fl ance of satin damask. Tare and others* ins are more worn than for many ycarsM Moaselincs of dark, plain grounds, wi:hii.'B ures in brilliant colors, and palm-leaH French chintzes, are worn for ses. Corsages are almost entirely plamifl yet; the old surplice and fan waists partially restored. The skirts are moitlß narrower than they have been, and rtifl long, almost concealing the feet. West ■ have more to say on this the ensuingmociH as well as on new styles of dressing hair, combs, shoes, and jewelry.— far October. m I SHAKESPEARE MODERNIZED,! Or a Scene from the ‘ Merchant of LouisnZfM •• Scene 3,” Main Street. — Enter , .IsytH If Broker. I Broker.— So you want $3,000, old low ? I Bass. —l iln that, for 90 days. k Broker. —For 90 days, eh 1 B Bass. —And, as 1 told you, 1 will Brown as security. B Broker. —Brown, security ! —Brown Brown! B Bass. —Well, what do you say,old —wilt you do it I fl Broker —s3,ooo for 90 days, ir ß Brown's name. ■ Bass. —Them's urn. I Broker. —Brown is good. I Bass. —Has he ever been ttndei pretf* not as I’ve heard on. I Broker. —llo! no, no, no, no; I that Brown's very good. To be sure, rather too deep in that Cannelton factoring Company ; and besides, 1 lie is speculating in railroad stock H they tell me down at Hatching's th Jt ß has a fourth interest in the General Brown, and some shares in a Coal ■■ besides a fiat boat load of corn on the to New Orleans. Stock, steamboats B corn, are very low now. Steamboat ■ up, flats get sunk or run on sand kj There be land rats that will eat lhrotipß sack of corn; and water rats, I lllf poor pilots—and the insurance com I 1 J wont pay without a suit, lie'll do thouM he’s worth $3,000, I reckon. I Bass.- — Yes, 1 should think he B „ Broker.- -Well, when can I sec |b<’’ , B Bass. — Come and go round to Wal *B 1 guess we'll find hitn there. . B Broker. —Yes, and meet n whole m ■ fellows, and have to treat. No, Hir ’ I your little business, hut you me at Walker’s, fivedollars a l’°l’' 1 J Who is that 1 I Bass. —Brown, by jingo! I (Enter Brou-n.) I Broker. —(aside.) How like a cunning sly old B looks. He does this thing n°' v 1 H for friendship : and unless he s underhand bold on Bass, —a. n>o*V H