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EDITED BY THOMAS HAYNES.
VOL. VB. NO. 20.
q Ije ' unbtivb of
BY P. E. ROBINSON, State Printer,
And Publisher (by authority ) of the Laws of the United States.
ISSUED EVER! TUESDAY MORNING.
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taining several thousand names.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted at the usual rates. Sales of LAND, by Admi.
niatrators, Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be held on the first Tues
day in the month, between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the ufter
qiuon, at the Court House in the county in which the property ia situhte. Notice of
thaac antes must bo given in a public gazette SIXTY DAYS previous to the day of
otic. .
Sale* of NEGROES must beat public auction, on the first Tuesday of the month
between the usual hours of sale, at the place of public sales in tho county where the
letters testiinentary. of Vlininislrutionor Guardianship, may have been granted, first
giving SIXTY’ DAY’S notice thereof, in one of the public gazettes of this State*
and at the door of the Court House whore such sales are to be held.
Notice tor the sale of Personal Property must ba given in like manner, FORTY
DAY’S previous to the day of sale.
Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published FORTY’
DAYS.
Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell
LAND, must be published for FOUR MONTHS.
Notice for leave to sell N EGROES, must be published for FOUR MONTHS
before any order absolute shall be made by thoC’ourt thereon.
Notice ot Application for Letters of Administration must be published THIRTY’
DAYS.
Notice of Application for Letters of Dismission from the Administration es an Es
tate, are required to be published monthly for SIX MONTHS.
MISCELLANEOUS.
From Chambers' Edinburgh Journal.
THE FORTUNES OF A COUNTRY GIRL.
A STORY.
One day, I will not say how many years ago—for I intend
to be very mysterious for a time with my readers—a young
woman stepped from a country wagon that had just arrived at I
the yard gale of the famous Chelsea Inn, the Goat and Com
passes, a name formed by corrupting time out of the pious !
original, “ God compassed) us.” The young woman seemed
about the age of IS, and was decently dressed, though in the
plainest rustic fashion of the times. She was well formed and ■
well looking, but form and looks giving indications of the
ruddy health consequent upon exposure to sun and air in the
country. After stepping from the wagon, which the driver
immediately led into the court yard, the girl stood for a mo
ment in apparent uncertainty whither to go, when the mistress
of the inn, who had come to the door, observed her hesitation,
and asked her to enter and take rest. The young woman readi
ly obeyed the invitation and soon, by the kindness of the land
lady found herself by the fire-side of a nicely sanded parlor, t
wherewithal to refresh herself after so long and tedious a
journey.
“And so, my poor girl,” said the landlady, after having I
heard in return for her kindness, the whole particulars of the
young woman’s situation and history, “so thou hast no friend j
but John Hodge the wagoner?—Tray he is likely to give
thee hot small help, wench, towards getting a place.”
“Is service, then, so difficult to be had?” asked the young |
woman sadly.
“ Ah, marry, good situations, at least, are hard to find. But
have a good heart child,” said the landlady, and, as she con- I
tinned, she looked about her with an air of pride and dignity ; j
“thou sees! what I have come to myself; and I left the coun- !
try, a young thing just like thyself, with as little to look to. i
But ’tis’nt every one for certain, that must look for such a |
fortune, and in,any case it must be wrought for. I showed ;
inyself a good servant, before my poor old Jacob, heaven rest
his soul, made me mistress of the Goat and Compasses. So
mind thee, girl ”
The landlady’s speech might have gone on a long’way ; for
the dame loved well the sound of her own tongue, but for the
interruption occasioned by the entrance of a gentleman, when
the landlady arose and welcomed him heartily.
“ Ha! dame,” said the nAv comer, who was a stout, respect
ably attired person of middle age, “how sells the good ale?
Scarcely a drop left in the cellars, 1 hope?”
“ Enough left to give your worship a draught after your
long walk, ” as she rose to fulfil the promise implied in her
words.
“I walked not,” was the gentleman’s return, “but took a
pair of oars, dame, down the river. Thou knowest I always
come to Chelsea myself to see if thou lackest anv thing.”
“ Ah, sir, replied the landlady, “ and it is bv that wav of
doing business that you have made yourself, as all the citv
says, the richest man in the Brewer’s Corporation, if not in all
London itself.”
• “ Well, dame, the better for me if it is so,” said the brewer
with a smile ; “ but let us have the mug and this quite pretty
friend of thine shall please tis, may hap, by tasting with us.”
The landlady was not long in producing a stoop of ale,
.knowing that her visiter never set an example to his own in
terests by countenancing the consumption of foreign spirits.
“Right, hostess,” said the Brewer, when he had tasted,
“well made and well kept, and that is giving both thee and me
our dues. Now, pretty one,” said he, filling one of the meas
ures of glasses which had been placed beside the stoop, “ wilt
thou drink this to thy sweetheart’s health ?”
The poor country girl to whom this was addressed, declined
the proffered civility, and with a blush ; but the landlady ex
claimed. “ Come, silly wench, drink his worship’s health; he
is more likely to get thee a service, if it so pleased him, than
John Hodge, the wagoner.”
“ This girl has come many a mile,” continued the hostess,
“to seek a place in town, that she may burden her family no
more at home.”
“To seek service,” exclaimed the brewer; “why then it is
perhaps well met with us. Has she brought a character with
her, or can you speak for her, flame?”
“ She has never been from home, sir, but her face is her char
acter,” said the kindhearted landlady; “ I warrant she will be
a diligent and trusty one.”
“ Upon tby prophecy hostess, will I take her into my own
service; for but yesterday was my housekeeper complaining
•as t,."? want of help, since this deputyship brought me more in
dhe way of entertaining the people of the ward.”
Ere the wealthy brewer and deputy left the Goat and Com
passes, arrangements were made for sending the country girl
<o his house in the city on the following day. Proud of having
done a kind action, the garrullons hostess took advantage of
the circumstance to deli ver an immensely long harrangue to the
young woman on her new Julies, and on tbe dangers to which
youth is exposed in large cities The girl heard her benefac
tress with modest thankfulness, but a more minute observer
t tan t >e good landlady might have seen in the eye and coun
tenance of the gj r | a q U j el fi rrnriegs expression, such as
* r,l K 11 mduced the cutting short of the lecture. However
ic .ini .a y ~(;t ure did end, and towards the evening of the
<ay > .oAinu io" day of her arrival at the Goat and Compass
the !' 'h -UI '<■ herself installed as housemaid in
the dwelling of the rich brewer.
The fortunes of this girlit i» . <• ■ ■ mi
/• ~, . . . is our purpose to follow. 1 lie
nrst change in her condition which took „ i
.k-.r i... i i i . looK place subsequent to
tnat related, was her e evation to ih<> .... . I ,
i , . , . .. l<> ~,e vacant post ol house
keeper in the hi ewer s family. hi this sin.i i
_,i, c I ■’ Hll ' t,,,, * r Hion she was brought
more than formerly m contact with her master, who, found am
ple means of admiring her propriety of conduct, a. well as
her skdf.il economy of management. By degrees he began to
hmh of h r n e “ M “ eCe ’- a 7 tO h j* ha PP i « c «; and being a man I
both of honorable and independent mind he at length offered i
/ c c c AWW 4 !
her his hand. It was accepted; and she, who but four years
before had left hercountry home barefooted, became the wife of
one of tbe richest citizens of London.
For many years Mr. Aylesbury, for such was the name of
the brewer, and his wife lived in happiness and comfort together.
He was a man of good family and connexions, and consequently
of higher breeding than she could boast of, but on no occa
sion had he ever to blush for the partner whom he had chosen.
Her calm, inborn strength, if not dignity of character, con
joined with an extreme quickness of perception, made her fill
her place at her husband’s table with as much grace and credit
as if she had been born to the station. And, as time ran on,
the respectability of Mr. Aylesbury’s position received a grad
ual increase. He became an Aiderman, and, subsequently a
sheriff of the city, and in consequence of the latter elevation
was knighted. Afterwards—and now’a part of the mystery
projected at the commencement of this story must be broken
j in upon, as far as the time is concerned—afterwards, the im
! portant place which the wealthy brewer held in the city, called
down upon him the attention and favor of Charles I. then
i anxious to conciliate the good will of the citizens, and the city
knight received the further honor of baronetcy.
Lady Aylesbury, in the first year of her married life, gave
birth to a daughter, who proved an only child, and round whom,
as was natural, all the hopes and wishes of the parents entwined
themselves.— Phis daughter had only reached the age of sev
enteen when her father died, leaving an immense fortune be
hind him. It was at first thought that the widow’ and her
daughter would become inheritors of this without a shadow of
dispute. But it proved otherwise. Certain relatives of the
deceased brewer set up a plea upon the foundation of a will
made in their favor before tbe deceased had become married.
With her wonted firmness, Lady Aylesbury immediately took
steps for the vindication of her own and her child’s rights.
A young lawyer who had been a frequent guest at her "hus
band’s table, and of whose abilities she had formed a high opin
ion, was the person whom she fixed upou as the legal asserter
of her cause. Edward Hyde was indeed a youth of great
ability. Though only twenty-four years of age at the period
referred to, and though he had spent much of his youthful time
in the society of the gay and fashionable of the day, he had
not neglected the pursuits to which his family’s wish, as well as
his own tastes had devoted him. But it was with considerable
hesitation, and with a feeling of anxious diffidence, that he
consented to take the charge of Lady Aylesbury’s case; for
certain strong though unseen and unacknowledged sensations
were at work in his bosom, to make him fearful of the respon
sibility and anxious about the result.
The young lawyer, however, became counsel for the brew
er’s widow and daughter, and by a striking exertion of elo
quence and display of legal ability, gained their suit. Two
days after, the successful pleader was seated beside his two
clients. Lady Aylesbury’s usual manner was quiet and com
posed, but she now spoke warmly of her gratitude to the pre
server of her daughter from want, and also tendered a fee—a
payment munificent, indeed for the occasion. The young
barrister did not seem at ease during Lady Aylesbury’s ex
pression es her feelings. He shifted upon his chair, changed
color, looked to Miss Aylesbury, played with the purse before
him, tried to speak, but stopped short and changed color
again. Thinking only es best expressing his own gratitude,
Lady Aylesbury appeared not to observe her visiter’s confu
sion, but arose, saying, “In token that I hold your services
above compensation in the way of money, I wish also to give
you a memorial of my gratitude in another shape.” As she
spoke thus she drew a bunch of keys from her pocket, which
every lady carried in those days, and left the room.
What passed during her absence between the parties whom
she left together, will be best known by the result. When La
dy Aylesbury returned, she found her daughter standing with
averted eyes, but her hand within that of Edward Hyde, who
knelt on the mother’s entrance and sought her consent to their
union. Explanation of the feelings which tbe parties enter
tained for each other passed, and Lady Aylesbury was not long
in giving the desired consent. “Give me leave, however,”
said she to the lover, “to place around your neck the memo
rial which I intended for you. This chain,” it was a superb
gold one, “was a token of gratitude from the ward in which
he lived, to my poor husband.” Lady Aylesbury’s calm seri
ous eyes were filled with tears as she threw the chain round
Edward’s neck, saying, “These links were borne on a worthy
and honored man. Mayst thou, my beloved son, attain to still
hieher honors.”
The wish was fulfilled, though not until danger and suffer
ing tried severely the parties concerned.—The son-in-law of
Lady Aylesbury became an eminent member of the English
bar, and also an important speaker in Parliament. When
Oliver Cromwell brought the King to the scaffold, and estab
lished the Commonwealth, Sir Edward Hyde—for he had held
a government post and been .knighted—was too prominent a
member of the roxalist party to escape the enmity of the new
riders, and was obliged to reside on the continent till the resto
ration. When abroad, he was so much esteemed by the exiled
Prince, (afterwards Charles II,) as to be appointed Lord High
Chancellor of England, which appointment was confirmed
when the King was restored to his throne.—Some years after
wards, Hyde was elevated to the Peerage, first in the rank of a
Baron, and subsequently as Earl of Clarendon, a title which
be made famous in English history.
These events, so briefly narrated, occupied a large space of
time, during which Lady Aylesbury passed her time in quiet
and relitement. She had now the gratification of beholding
her daughter Countess of Clarendon, and of seeing the grand
children who had been born to her mingle as equals with the
noblest of the land. But a still more exalted fate awaited the
descendants of the poor friendless girl who had come to Lon
don, in search of service, in a wagoner’s van. Her grand
daughter Ann Hyde, a young lady of spirit, wit and beauty,
had been appointed, while her family staid abroad, one of the
maids of honor to the princess of Orange, and in that situation
had attracted so strongly the regards of James, Duke of York,
and brother of Charles 11, that be contracted a private mar
riage with her. The birth of a child forced on a public an
nouncement of this contract, and ere long the grand-daughter
of Lady Aylesbury, was openly received by ?the royal family
and the people of England as the Dutchess of York, and sis
ter-in-law of the sovereign.
Lady Aylesbury did not long survive this event. But ere
she dropped into the grave at a ripe old age, she saw her de
scendants heirs presumptive to the British crown. King Charles
had married, but had no legitimate issue, and, accordingly, his
brother’s family had the prospect and rights of succession.
And in reality, two immediate descendants of the bare-footed
country girl did ultimately fill the throne: Mary (wife of Wil
liam HI,) and Queen Anne, princess both of illustrious
memory.
Such were the fortunes of the young woman of whom the
worthy lady of the Goat and Compasses was fearful of en
couraging rash hopes by a reference to the lofty position which
it had been her own fate to attain in life. In one assertion, at
least, the hostess was undoubtedly right—that success in life
must be labored for in some way or other. Without the pru
dence and propriety of conduct which won the esteem and love
of the brewer, the sequel of the coontry girl’s history could not
have been such as it is.
The New York Journal of Commerce says that the follow
ing ships of war will be assembled on the Mexican coast soon
after the arrival of Mr. Ellis at Vera Cruz, and it is presumed
that they arc not sent out for nothing. The Constitution, 44
guns, which sailed from that port a week ago with Mr. Ellis on
board; the Macedonian, 36 guns ; the Ontario, 18; the Van
dalia, 18; the Levant, 18; the Erie, 18; the Warren, 18; the
Natchez, 18. Total, 188 guns; which, in case of necessity,
would be able to make a “ pretty considerable” clattering. We
presume it is expected there will be no occasion for the employ
ment of this force, except byway of demonstration.”
We learn from the New Orleans Advertiser, that the law of
Louisiana which prohibits the entrance of free blacks into that
State, is about to be enforced, in consequence of the number of
persons of that class who have emigrated thither.
MILLEIBGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY MORNING, JUNE 11, 1830.
Our Conscience—.Qur Country—-Our Party.
advice: of a father to HIS ONLY DAUGHTER.
BY PATRICK HENRY.
My Dear Daughter.—You have just entered into that
state which is replete with happiness or misery. The issue de
pends upon that prudent, amiable, uniform conduct, which wis
dom and virtue so strongly recommend, on the one hand, or
on that imprudence which a want of reflection or passion may
prompt on the other.
You are allied to a man of honor, of talents, and of an open,
generous disposition. You havQ therefore in your power, all
the essential ingredients of domestic happiness: it cannot be
marred, if you now reflect upon that system of conduct which
you ought invariably to pursue —if you now see clearly the
path from which you will resolve never to deviate. Our con
duct is often the result of whim or caprice, often such as will
give us many a pang, unless we see beforehand what is always
most praiseworthy, and the most essential to happiness.
The first maxim you should follow, is, never to attempt to
control your husband by opposition, by displeasure, or any
other mark of anger. ■ A man of sense, of prudence, of warm
feelings, cannot, and will not, bear an opposition of any kind,
which is attended with an angry look or expression. The
current of his affections is suddenly stopped ; his attachment is
weakened ; lie begins to feel a mortification the most pungent;
he is belittled even in his own eye; and be assured, the wife
who once excites those sentiments in the breast of a husband,
will never regain the high ground which she might and ought
to have retained. When he marries her, if he be a good man,
he expects to find in her one who is not to control him—not to
take from him the freedom of acting as his own judgment shall
direct, but one who will place such confidence in him, as to
believe that his prudence is his best guide. Little things, what
in reality are mere trifles in themselves, often produce bicker
ings, and even quarrels. Never permit them to be a subject
of dispute; yield them with pleasure, with a smile of affection.
Be assured that one difference outweighs them all a thousand
or ten thousand times. A difference with your husband ooght
to be considered as the greatest calamity—as one that is to be
studiously guarded against; it is a demon which must never
be permitted to enter a habitation where all should he peace,
unimpaired confidence, and heartfelt affection. Besides, what
can a woman gain by opposition or indifference? Nothing.
But she loses every thing; she loses her husband’s respect for
her virtues, she loses his love, and with that, all prospect of fu
ture happiness. She creates her own misery, and then utters
idle and silly complaints, but utters them in vain. The love
of a husband can be retained only by the high opinion which
he entertains of his wife’s goodness of heart, of her amiable
disposition, of the sweetness of her temper, of her prudence,
of her devotion to him. Let nothing, upon any occasion,
ever lessen that opinion. On the contrary; it should augment
every day: he should have much more reason to admire her
for those excellent qualities which will cast a lustre over a vir
tuous woman when her personal attractions are no more.
Has your husband staid out longer than you expected?
M hen he returns, receive him as the partner of your heart.
Has he disappointed you in something you expected, whether
of ornament, or of furniture, or of any conveniency? Never
evince discontent; receive his apology with cheerfulness.
Does he, when you are house-keeper, invite company without
informing you of it, or bring home with him a friend ? What
ever may be your repast, however scanty it may be, or how
impracticable it may be to add to it, receive them with a pleas
ing countenance, adorn your table with cheerfulness, give to
your husband and to your company a hearty welcome; it will
more than compensate for every other deficiency ; it will evince
love for your busband, good sense in yourself, and that polite
ness of manners, which acts as the most powerful charm I It
will give to the plainest fare a zest superior to all that luxury
can boast. Never be discontented on any occasion of this na
ture.
In the next place, as your husband’s success in his profession
will depend upon his popularity, and as the manners of a wife
have no little influence in extending or lessening the respect and
esteem of others for her husband, you should take care to be
affable and polite to the poorest as well as the richest. A re
served haughtiness is a sure indication of a weak mind and an
unfeeling heart.
With respect to your servants, teach them to respect and
love you, while you expect from them a reasonable discharge of
their respective duties. Never teaze yourself, or them, by scold
ing ; it has no other effect than to render them discontented
and impertinent. Admonish them with a calm firmness.
Cultivate your mind by the perusal of those books which in
struct while they amuse. Do not devote much of your time to
novels ; there are a few which may be useful and improving, in
giving a higher tone to our moral sensibility ; but they tend to
vitiate the taste, and to produce a disrelish for substantial intel
lectual food. Most plays are of the same cast; they are not
friendly to the delicacy w hich is one of the ornaments of the fe
male character. History, geography, poetry, moral essays, bi
ography, travels, sermons, and other w ell w ritten religious pro
ductions, will not fail to enlarge your understanding, to render
you a more agreeable companion, and to exalt your virtue. A
woman devoid of rational ideas of religion, has no security for
her virtue; it is sacrificed to her passions, whose voice, not that
of God, is hes only governing principle. Besides, in those
hours ol calamity to which families must be exposed, where will
she find support, if it be not her just reflections upon that all
ruling Providence which governs the universe, t whether inani
mate or animate.
Mutual politeness between the most intimate friends, is es
sentia] to that harmony which should never be once broken or
interrupted. How important then is it between man and wife !
The more warm the attachment, the less will either party bear
to be slighted, or treated with the smallest degree of rudeness or
inattention. This politeness then, if it be not in itself a virtue,
is at least the means of giving to real goodness a new lustre ; it
is the means of preventing discontent, and even quarrels ; it is
the oil of intercourse, it removes asperities, and gives to every
thing a smooth, an even, and a pleasing movement.
I will only add that matrimonial happiness does not depend
upon wealth ; no, it is not to be found in wealth, but in minds
properly tempered and united toour respective situations. Com
petency is necessary; all beyond that point, ideal. Do not
suppose, however, that I would not advise your husband to
augment Ils property by all honest and commendable means.
I would wish to see him actively engaged in such a pursuit, be
cause engagement, sedulous employment, in obtaining some
laudable end, is essential to happiness. In the attainment of a
fortune by honorable means, a man derives satisfaction in self
applause, as well as from the increasing estimation in which he
is held by those around him.
In the management of your domestic concerns, let prudence
and wise economy prevail. Let neatness, order and judgment
be seen in all your different departments. Unite liberality with
a just frugality, always reserve something for the hand of char
ity, and never let your door be closed to the voice of suffering
humanity. Your servants, in particular, will have the strongest
claim upon your charity ; let them be well clothed, nursed in
sickness, and never let them be unjustly treated.
Washington’s opinion of Agriculture.—The follow
ing is an extract of a letter from Gen. Washington to Sir Ar
thur Young, who was distinguished for his devotion to Agricul
tural pursuits:
“ The more I am acquainted with agricultural affairs, the bet
ter I am pleased with them ; insomuch, that I can no where find
so great satisfaction as in those innocent and useful pursuits.
In indulging these feelings, I am led to reflect how much more
delightful to an undebauched mind is the task of making im
provements on the earth, than all the vain-ology which can he
acquired from ravaging it, by most uninterrupted career of con
quests. The design of this observation is only to show how
much, as a member of human society, I feel myself obliged to
your labors to render respectable and advantageous an employ
ment which is more congenial to the natural dispositions of
mankind than any other.”
POPULAR ERRORS.
(Continued from our last.)
Mrs.— that respectable abreviation, is exceedingly grieved at the
indignity she suffers. The good ladies whom she represents, are let
down from the matronly dignity, to which she would hold them, to the
un-married degradation of Miss; and this in the United States, where
matrimony is so universally honored and sought after. She desires
it to be universally published, that Jlffss belongs only to ladies who
have never been blessed with husbands; and that Mrs. is the legiti
mate and never-to-be omitted title of those who have been raised to
superior dignity by Hy-mcn, (high-men*) N. B. Mistress, for which
Mrs. stands in writing, is generally contracted in speaking to, or of,
ladies, by leaving out the letters t, and r, in this manner, Miss'es.
Oh! ye ‘bone and muscle of tbe country !’ bow can you refuse to
comply with so gentle and lady-like a request ! Wc pray you that
from the moment the sacred knot is tied, ‘ until death shall part,’you
will say, Miss'es. (Oh! how honored your own name to have such
a title prefixed!) 'Miss'es So-or-so, in what manner can I best
contribute to your real and permanent happiness!’ That’s a good
husband !
Oil, you all know has a disposition smooth to a proverb ; but he
is to say the least, in great danger of losing his fine, easy temper, by
being treated in the altogether improper manner that you here be
hold, He! Poor Oil has been for centuries crying out 01 O I O I
as loudly and roughly as his melodious but sonorous voice will per
mit ; but they will not hear; they still call him He.
Potatoes, (those most indispensable servants to all dinner-eating
Americans, and the benevolent furnishers of 'daily bread,' and in
deed the whole living to Pat-land’s poor,) Potatoes, 'Ate weeping
with all eyes, at the agony to which they are put by thousands,
f hey are most unfeelingly mangled, top and toe, in this manner,
Taters. Notwithstanding their eztremilies, in the most meafy-mouth
ed manner they exclaim, Po 1 Po! gentlemen and ladies! pray spare
us a head, and you may bruise our toes in welcome. Still you must
confess that Potaters is not so sound and whole -some as Potatoes.
Point, allows that in some respects he is of minute importance;
but asserts that in others he is of the greatest consequence, as in an
argument, for instance. He is, in zeal, the sharpest, of all those
who have entered into the present subject of Amelioration. Point
is determined to prick forward in tbe cause, till he shall be no longer
blunted and turned away from his aim, and robbed of his very na
ture, in '.he measure you here perceive, Pint. Do not disap-pin!
your injured servant, indulgent masters.
Philadelphia, takes off’ his broad-brim, and in the softest tones of
brotherly love, implores the people of the United States to cease
calling him by that harsh, horrid and un-brotherly name, Felly-del
phy. It deprives him of his significance, an ancient honorable line
age, as every Greek scholar well knows. 'Oh !’ cries the citv of
‘ Brotherly Love,’ in plaintive but kindly accents, ‘do understand
the meaning, behold the admirableness; hearken to the melody, and
respect the sincerity of Philadelphia.'
Poetry, What a halo of glory around this daughter of Genius, and
descendant of Heaven ! Behold how she is rent asunder by many a
pitiful proser, and made to come short of due honor. Potry, Apol
lo and the Muses know nothing about Potry !
Quench, that renowned extinguisher, whom the world can’t hold a
candle to, is himself very much put out, now and then, from this
this cause : some people permit that crooked and hissing serpent S
to gel before him and coil round him, while he is in the hurry of
duty, as you here see; Sqench ; and sometimes they give him a hor
rid black I, thus, Squinch.
Rather, is universally known to be very nice in his preferences,
and to be almost continually occupied in expressing them. Be it as
universally known, then, that he is disgusted beyond all bearing at
being called, Ruther. Oh, how, from time immemorial, has this
choice character suffered from the interference of U, ye masters!
iSaaze, has a good many elements in him, and, above all, a groper
share of self-respect. He thinks ho has too much spice and sp.rit
to be considered such a flat as this indicates, Sats.
Saucer, complains that he is served the same sass. Between them
both, unless there is something done, there may be an overflow of
saucincss to their masters.
Scarce, is not a very frequent complainant of any thing, but he is
now constrained to come forward and pour out more plentifully than
common. He complains that certain Nippies, both male and female
and hosts of honest imitators, call him Source, thinking it the very
tip of gentility. He will detain you no longer, gentlemen and ladies;
for he prefers to be always, Scarce.
Such, does not complain of mistaken politeness, but of low and
vulgar treatment like this, Sich.
Since, has been crying out against the times, from the period of
bis birth into English. It is abominable that a character of such
vast comprehension, should be so belittled. He embraces all antiqui
ty, goes back beyond Adam, yea, as far back into the unbeginning
ness as you could think in a million of years, and unimaginably fur
ther. And, Oh ! bis hoary head is bowed down with sorrow at being
called by two thirds of the American people, Sence. It is hoped
that all the Future and all the Past will be, Since.
Spectacles, those twin literati, who are ever poring over the pages
of learning, raise eyes of supplication. They say that they cannot
look with due respect upon certain elderly people, who pronounce
them more unlettered than they really are, as you may perceive
without looking with their interested eyes, Spetacles. Nene. able
friends, pray c us, c us, and give us our due in the matter of letters,
and cry Spectacles.
Sit, has been provoked to stand up in his own behalf, although he
is of sedentary habits, and is sometimes inclined to be idle. He de
clares he has too much pride and spirit to let that more active per
sonage, Set, do all his work for him. ‘ Set still,’ says the pedagogue
to his pupils, and parents to their children. ‘ Set down, sir,’ says a
thousai d gentlemen, and some famously learned ones, to their visi
ters. ‘ That coat sets well,’ affirms the tailor. Now all this does
not sifwell on your complainant, and he sets up his Ebenezer, that
he should like a little more to do—especially in the employ of col
lege-learned men, and also of the teachers of American yojith.
These distinguised characters ought to sit down, and calculate the
immense effect of their example in matters of speech.
Sat, makes grievous complaint that he is called Sot. He begs all
the world to know that he hath not redness of eyes, nor ruminess
nor brandiness of breath, nor flnmingness of nose’that he should be
degraded by the drunkard’s lowest and last name, Sot. The court
sat, not sot, the company sat down to dinner, not sot down; but ver
bum sat,' if English may be allowed to speak in Latin.
Shut : This is a person of some importance ; and, although your
slave, is a most exclusive character, as is said of the ultra fashiona
bles. He is, indeed, the most decisive and unyielding exclusive in
the world. He keeps the outs out, and the ins in, both in fashiona
ble and political life. He is of most ancient, as well of most exqui
site pretensions, for he kept the door of Noah’s ark tight against the
flood. Now this stiff old aristocrat is made to appear exceedingly
flat, silly, and undignified, by being called by sundry persons, Shet.
1 Shet the door,’ says old Grandsire Grumble ; of a cold, windy day.
1 Shet your books,’ says the schoolmaster, when he is about to hear
the urchins spell. • Shet up, you saucy blockhead,’ cries he to young
Insolence. This is too bad I It is abominable ! a schoolmaster, the
appointed keeper of orthographical and orthoepical honor, letting
fall the well-branded lofty-minded, Shut, from his guardian lips, in
the shape of Shet. Oh! the plebian I Faithless and unfit peda
gogue !! He ought to be banished to Shet-land where by day he
should battle with Boreas, and teach A, B, C, to the posterity of
Triptoleinus Yellowley’s ass; and where by night his bed-chamber
should be the un-sAa< North ; his bed the summit of a snow-drift;
his sheets nothing but arctic mists; and his pillow the fragment of
an iceberg!! Away with the traitor to SAeMand! O most merci
ful American masters and mistresses! Shut has no relief or safety
from the miserableness of Shet, but in U.
Told, is a round, sounding preterite, that is real music in a singing
school, it will bear such a round-mouthed thunder of voice. He feels
the dignity of his vocation, and asks not to be kef out of use by
such bad grammar as this— 7 tiled. ‘He telled rne so-and-so.’—
Pshaw 1 that renowned talker and servant of old.Peter Parley, Tell,
declares that no one has ever derived existence, com him by tlie name
of Telled. Pray, masters and mistresses, now forget what
you have been, Told.
l es, that good-natured personage, affirms that were he not of so
complying a disposition, he would henceforth bt> so to every body
who should call him, I ts. To this pleasant hint, ye kindly ones,
you cannot but say, Yes, Yes!
Finally Hearken! There is a voice from the past. It is the
complaint of departing Yesterday. He cries aloud Give ear, O,
To-day, and hear, hear, O, To-morrow ! Never, never more, call
me Yisterday!
We have thus presented you, Sovereign Owners, with the com
plaints and groans of a considerable number of our race. There
ai a, doubtless, many others, who are also in a state of suffering, but
who have uncommon fortitude, or too much modesty, to come forward
publicly, and make known their trials to our whole assembled commu
nity. Should the abuse of any such happen to be known to you at
any time, we pray that the same consideration may be given to them
as to the rest. Your supplicants fear that they have wearied your
patience. Nevertheless, we must venture a little further in our poor
addresses. Please then, to lend us your indulgence, a few moments
longer.
Theie is one family in the country of whom it is difficult for your
supplicants to speak with any degree of calmness, or with that char
ity proper to be exercised towards frail human nature. We mean
the Downing family. There is no abuse of language too gross for
P. L. ROBINSON, PROPRIETOR.
them. They torture words into such unnatural shapes that tbestretch
ings and disjointings of a Catholic Inquisition would be a pleasure in
comparison. They make short, long, and long, short, without merev
Oh ! what agony in their spelling ! An ignorant child might mangle
us in orthography, with innocence, as he might stick pins through
flies, or pull their wings off, not dreaming of tbe torttfre he inflicts •
but when a man—a statesman—a military man, and a Great man*
like the indomitable, the super-heroic and immoitally renowned Jack
Downing, is thus barbarous and butcherly on the servants of his lips
and pen, it is above *
“All Greek, above all Roman fame,"
in the treatment of slaves. But we will not dwell on misdoings of
the Major, in a vain spirit of vindictiveness. He is dead and gone
according to the record of the Portland Courier, ‘ awav down in
Maine.’ But, alas! bis works remain disseminating their Vandal in
fluence. Therefore, we earnestly entreat the free, and ought-to-be
enlightened people of the United Stales, to arise, all as one, in this
great cause of Letters, and hunt up and gather together all the wri
tings of said Jack Downing, and make ashes of them, to be trodden
under foot, so as never more to come near any body’s head in the
shape and quality of Letters. We entreat, also, that the similar
writings’of his relations—' Sargent Joel,’ and the rest—and all other
fZ-literati of like stamp, may be put, ashes to ashes, with the Major’s.
Still further, in behalf of sound learning and ourselves, we beg that
all remaining members of the Downing family, may be sought out
by the protecting hand of Public Justice, and hurled into that origin
ci nothingness, from which, without father or mother, they rose. °or
if tho following process should be deemed of greater utility, we de
sire that it may be adopted instead, viz: Let all parents and school
teachers take the aforementioned II literature, and point out to their
children and pupils all the abuses of good grammar and correct spel
ling therein t« be found. Let these abuses be made a sign and a
warning to them, never to be guilty of the same. Let this be done
and we will cease from our maledictions on the Downingville heroes
and heroines. Yea, we prefer that the last suggestion should be car
ried into effect. Let the Major, the Sargent, Ezekil Bigelow, and
all the rest of them, live in their works. Who knows but that they
are even more beneficent and wise than the world and ourselves hava
ever dreamed. On reflection, we are more and more inclined to
the opinion, that we have been designedly abused in said writings,
on purpose to excite public attention and commiseration towards simi
lar abuses experienced by us, every day, from thousands and indeed
millions of others in this country. If this after-thought be true, we
most cordially take baek whatever of severity we may have indulged
towards these deepplanning benefactors. We cannot but entertain
agreeable anticipations. From the unsound boundary of remotest
Maine ; yea, from the furthermost point of ‘Away down East,” to
the Southwesternmost corner of that /ZnrraA-Land, called Texas
we extend our visions of amelioration. We behold pedagogues and
parents making use of the Downing writings as a text-book, whereby
to illustrate the bad usage of their faithful servants, ourselves. Or at
least we behold them watching the bad habits of their own lips, and
most sedulously correcting the bad habits of the young as often as they
may appear. Now, Sovereign Masters and Mistresses, and Rightful
Owners, shall these visions of hope be realized ! Shall the condition
of our suffering brethren be ameliorated ? Shall the era of good gram
mar, correct spelling, and proper pronunciation, be hastened forward
by some benevolent exertions! Shall tbe present abuses be trans
mitted to the future or not! Shall the Golden Age of Speech spee
dily come and last evermore!
That stich improvement in their condition may be vouchsafed, is
the humble prayer of your supplicants; all whose names, being too
numerous to be here subscribed, may be found recorded in Webster’s
great dictionary t
From the New-Orleans Picayune.
tUN ON BOARD A STEAM-BOAT.
j»LAYING A STRONG GAME WITH A POKER PLAYER.
Not long since a gambler had a game played upon him by the deck
hands and fireman on board one of our Western Steamers—a game
even stronger than that played by our second Municipality on this
class of the community in New Orleans.
It seems that he had made out to ‘ get up a small game’ of poker
with some of the deck hands, and that by dint of cheating, putting
up the cards, and other tricks, known only to those up to them, and
who make a living by “ handling the papers,” he had transferred
nearly all the surplus revenue from their pockets into his own. He
“ He cut and shuffled” to all appearance fair for some time but was
finally caught at some trick which at once let the honest steamboat
men into the secret of “ how the thing was done,” and proved that
they had lost their money by any other than the right ‘clean thing.”
The game, as a matter of course, was ‘ blocked’ at once, and a
demonstration immediately made that he should fork over his ill got
ten gains. This he flatly refused to do—said that he had won the
money fair, and that he was very clear of giving up what he had
come honestly by. They still persisted and he still refused.
The boat at length stopped to wood, when the men finding it use
less to attempt regaining their money by fair means, resorted to a
plan which the gambler undoubtedly thought loul. Having gained
the consent of the engineer to use the engine for a short time, they
forthwith put a plan in execution—a plan rather bordering on that
code of laws generally known as coming under the especial jurisdic
tion of Judge Lynch.
They in the first place made one end of a rope fast around the
neck of the astonished gambler, while the other was tied to the end
of the piston rod, allowing him only two or three feet slack. They
told him unless he shelled out their money instanter, they would work
the engine, and at the same time that they were not responsible for
any injuries he might sustain. Loth to give up his the fellow
cast one look at the new system of extortion, coolly calculated his
chances, and then told them that ‘ they might work away and be d—d.’
No sooner said than done; and the gambler was immediately seen
first chasing the piston rod upon all fours and then backing out of its
way. His eye all the time was as firmly set upon the rod as ever that
of Herr Cline or Gabriel Ravel was upon the tight rope. After work
ing him forward and back several times one of his tormenters asked
him, ‘ Don’t you think it best to hand it over?’
‘ Don’t bother me,’ retorted the gambler.
‘ You’ll get sick of that fun,’ said another of the boatmen, when
he was following the piston rod in the attitude of a bear.
‘ Not as you know on,’ rejoined the gambler as he backed out of
its way.
In this way they ran upon the poor fellow for some time, he still
manifesting bis unwillingness to give up his spoils. By this time all
the cabin passengers had heard of the fun going on below, and went
down to witness it. After a few moments respite the engine was
again set in motion, and the gambler along with it. The laugh from
the bystanders was boisterous and hearty in the extreme as the poor
fellow, intent upon nothing but his own safety, followed the pisten
rod up to prevent his neck from being jerked off', and then backed
out of its way to avoid being fairly run over and crushed. We can
liken his looks and actions to nothing save an old bear being dragged
by a chain up to some point against his will, and backing out the mo
ment a foot of slack was given him; or else to a savage and hungry
bull dog with a rope round his neck, fiercely endeavoring to get at
some prey, and then being dragged back the moment his mouth was
opened to secure it.
‘ Fite and fall back,’ was heard from an individual in the crowd.
‘ Root hog, or die,’ came from another.
‘ Twig him—only look !’ says one.
‘ Here he goes, there he goes,’ said a second.
‘ Ha ba, he he, hi hi, ho ho,’ laughed another.
‘ Ain’t he in a pretty fix,’ cried still a third.
‘ Serves him right,’ says a fourth.
‘ Good enough for him,’ said a fifth, the piston rod all the while
keeping him in full excercise, with the perspiration rolling down hi*
cheeks in streams.
‘ Ain’t you most ready to hand over now?’ said one of the plucked
deck hands.
‘ Don’t bother me, I say,’ retorted the gambler, ‘ if you do, I’ll
loose my lick.’
‘ Won’t you give us up the money ?’ asked another of those whom
he had fleered.
‘ If I do, I do ; but if I do I’m d-d,’ continued the companion of
the rod. ‘ I’ve got the hang of this game— l understand the princi
ples of this machinery now, and you may work me from one end of
the Mississippi river to the other, before I’ll give up the first red cent
—that you,may.’
The gambler was worked in this way until the boat was ready te
start, without flinching or showing any disposition to give up. Con
sidering that they had got the worth of their money out of him in
the shape of fun, and that he had worked hard and afforded sufficient
amusement to more than compensate them for their odd bits and picay
unes, the engine was slopped and the man let loose 3
After puffiing, blowing, and wiping the perspiration from hisfaee.
the gambler looked at his tormenters with a self-satisfied air, and ex
claimed, ‘ You can t come it over this child with any of your com
mon games. Ive stood three pluck one too often to be bluffed off
even if there were forty against me. Any time you want to get up
another game, and there’s any thing to be made by it, I’m your man.’
I he boat was soon underway, and all hands adjourned to their
respective callings. • ‘
A steam Orchestra.— A steam organ, drivrug g gigantic
violin and a whole team of orchestral instruments. ha.S been in*
vented in Germany. - * u
WHOLE NO. 280.