Newspaper Page Text
BY GARDNER & BARROW
XJIK GEORGIA TIISBKOR,
f s published every Saturday, in b lorence,
*ewart county, Ga. at THREE DODLARS a
vear, if paid in advance, or FOUR DOLLARS,
■ f not paid until the end of the year.
Ydvk'.u'iskmknts will lie conspicuously inserted
-it One Dollar per square, (15 lines) the first, and
50 cents for each subsequent insertion. Nothing
n lor 15 lines w tll be considered less than a
iirc . A deduction will be made for yearly ad
ertisements.
YU advertisements handed in for publication
without t limitation, will be published till forbid,
and charged accordingly.
Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Ad
ministrators and Guardians, are required by law
to be advertised in a public Gazette, sixty days
previous to the day of sale.
The sale of Personal property must be adver
tise' 1 in like manner forty days.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an estate
must be published forty days.
Notice that application will be made to the
Court of Ordinary lor leave to sell Land and Ne
,-rui s, must be published weekly for four months.
Q'J*' AH Letters on business must be i*os
taid to insure attention.
JOB PRINTING.
(CONNECTED with the office of the MIR
j ROR, is a splendid assortment of
Ynd wc are enabled to excute all kind of Job work,
m the neatest manner and at the shortest notice.
of every description will constantly be kept on
hand, such as
INDICTMENTS,
DKCLAR AT IONS,
S UR Pi ENAS,
JURY SUMMONSES,
EXECUTIONS.
COST EXECUTIONS.
SHERIFF’S BILLS UP SALE,
do DEEDS,
LAND DEEDS,
JUS. SUMMONSES,
do EXECUTIONS,
MORTGAGES.
LET. ADMINISTRATION,
do TESTAMENTARY,
do GUARDIANSHIP,
Ynd a great many others lor Justices of the
Peace, Administrators, Executors, die.
CAUTION^
IFORNVARN all persons from trading for any
of the notes hereinafter described to wit:
the amount of S3OO in small notes payable to
Crcenß. Bailor bearer, and bearing date some
time in this instant; some of the abovs notes arc
rrnetl Jeremiah Cults & William Johnson and
some signed William Johnson & Jeremiah Cutts;
and two notes given by myscll to Harris Dennaul.
amounting to $37 and bearing date some tune about
the first of this instant; also one given to V . A
P,. May for sl7 and some odd cents, bearing date
some time about the first ot b ebuary last, and
one for $5 bearing date in April or May last gi\en
by myself and payable to James Johnson; and
many others in the same situation now not recol
lected.
All of said notes having been paid off and fully
settled by me, that they are all illegally detained
from my possession, and I am determined not to
pay said notes the second time unless compelled
by law.
WILLIAM JOHNSON.
Lumpkin Ga. June 7, 1833. 12 4t
STRAYED,
From the subscriber in Lumpkin
about the first of May last, a BAY
FILLY, between two and three
years old, she is supposed to be still
in the county, any information respecting her will
will be thankfully received, or a liberal reward
will be given to any person who will deliver her to
me.
WILLARD BOYNTON.
Lumpkin, Ga. June 13,1838 12 ts
'strayed or stolen.
A bright BAY MARE, about
IjY, '/Aft five feet six inches high, long tail,
mr*s m has some white hairs about her
right bind foot, no other marks
scollected. The said Mare either Strayed or was
stolen from my house about the 20th of March.
Iny information will be thankfully received or
Ten Dollars Reward will lie given for her delivery
Jo me, near Roanoke, Stewart County Ga.
T. 11. CORBETT.
Florence, June 10, 1838 17 12
ten dollars reward.
RAYED or Stolen, from the subscribers
living two miles below Florence, about the
mst of June, adarkbny MARE MULE, rather
small, about six years old, no other marks recol
lected. Any information respecting said mule
"ill be thankfully received, or if delivered to the
subsveibers the above reward will be paid.
JOHN T. WARREN,
CHARLES 11. WARREN.
Florence, June 30, 1838 14 2t
LAST CALL.
A\/"E shall remain in town two weeks longer,
’ * those preferring a settlement with us, to
Allonso DeLaunay, Esq. can have the opportuni
ty- A. P. ROOD Ai Cos,
Florence, June 22, 1838. 13
TOWN COUNCIL.
Ordinances of the town of Florence , passed by the
Board of Commissioners , June 25, 1838.
f board of Commissioners met according
jL to adjournment, members present,
R. W. Williams, Intendant, Joseph M. Miller,
Benj. Gardner and William Stafford.*
Ist. For the preservation of good order, and to
prevent the annoyance consequent upon persons
being intoxicated" in the streets on the Sabbath
day, be it therefore
Ordained , That no person or persons shall
vend any spiritous liquors or any kind of merchan
dize on the Sabbath day—any person or persons
so ortbnding, shall.forfeit and pay the sum of ten
dollars for each and every offence.
2d. And be it farther Ordained , That no slave
or slaves shall be permitted to visit the town with
out a written permt from his, her or their owner,
or from the person or persons having the direction
and control of such slave or slaves; and no slave
or slaves, unless living in the place, shall be per
mitted to remain in town after ten o’clock, with
out it be specified in the written permit, under the
penalty of receiving thirty-nine lashes on the bare
back.
3d. And be it farther Ordained , That any white
person or persons trading with any slave or slaves,
for articles other than those pointed out by law,
shall forfeit and (pay the sum of five dollars for
each and every offence, and shall be prosecuted to
the extent of the law in such cases made and pro
vided.
4th. And be if. farther Ordained , That any per
son or persons who shall be found fighting or
quarreling within the limits of the corporation,
contrary to the good order and peace of the com
munity, shall forfeit and pay the sum of not less
than Three nor more than Twenty dollars for each
and every offence.
sth And be it further Ordained , That the Mar
shal receive for the correction of any slave which
may be sent to him by the owner, or any person
or persons having the control or direction of said,
slave, the sum of one dollar
Ordained , That the Marshall be authorized
and required to prevent all unlawful assemblages
of individuals, and any and everything calculated
to disturb the peace and good order of the com
munity. And any person or perrons so offending
be brought before the incorporated authorities ol
the Town, to be punished at the discretion of the
Board.
Ordained , That any member of Council who
shall be guilty of the violation of any ot the tore
going Ordinances, shall pay double the amount
imposed on other citizens.
It being requisite to raise a revenue to defray the
necessary police regulations lor the year 1838,
Be it therefore Ordained , That the following
rates of Taxation be imposed:
On all improved lots in the town of !• lovence, a
tax of 12£ cents on every hundred dollars of val
ue as returned or assessed.
On all unimproved lots in said town a tax of 20
cents on every SIOO assessed or returned.
On all goods, wares and merchandise, including
drugs, medicines, saddles, bridles, and harness,
hoots, shoes, ready made clothing, clocks, watches,
precious stones and jewelry of every description,
held and kept for sale in the town of Florence,
there shall be paid a tax of ten cents on every 100
dollars; the person giving in to swear to the high
est amount of stock or merchandize which lie may
have had on hand, between the first day of Jan
uary, and the eighteenth day of June.
On all retailers of spirituous or fermented li
quors, in less quantities than one gallon, a tax of
ten dollars, and one dollar to the clrr.v in every in
stance for a license.
On each male white inhabitant of said town, be
tween the ages of 16 and 45, a tax ot three dollars
as a compensation for road and street dulv.
On each practitioner of law anil medicine a tax
of three dollars.
On each slave liable to road duty, a tax of $3.
On each slave not so liable, a tax of 52 cents.
On every free male person of color a tax ot £>lo.
On every free female person of color a tax of $5.
On all pleasure Carriages a Tax of 50 cents per
wheel.
On all Road Waggons, Jersey Waggons, Carts
and Drays a Tax of 12<I cents per wheel.
On every Showman and Juggler who shall per
form or Exhibit for public amusement, and who
charges therefor, a Tax ot ten dollars.
On every circus or equestrian company, a Tax
of S2O. .
On each and every collection of animals or
Birds exhibited for money, a Tax of $lO, and all
Showmen or Juggler, proprietors of wax figures,
animals or Birds, every circus or equestrian com
pany, before they shall be allowed to exhibit, must
apply to and receive from the Clerk a license for
which, besides the before mentioned sum, they
and each of them shall pay to the Clerk one dol
lar for a license.
And be it further Ordained , that the assessor
and collector before entering upon the discharge of
his duties shall take an oath for the faithful per
formance of his duty, and give bond and security,
in the sum of three thousand dollars, and that he
proceed forwit h’to assess and receive returns ot all
property pointed out in the several ordinances and
that after giving thirty days notice in the Georgia
Mirror, he proceed to collect.
Beit further Ordained , that all persons who
shall refuse to give in their taxable property shall b
double taxed, and after sixty days from the udver
tisement of the collector, execution shall issue
against all defaulters as in case of Tax for the
State. _ _ ,
R. W. WILLIAMS. Intendant.
T. GARDNER. Sec.
•Elected in the place of Thomas Gardner, Esq.
who resigned at a previous meeting ol the board
notice:
ALT, persons indebted to the estate of Jesse
Wriglit, late of Sumter county, deceased,
will come forward and settle the same, anti those
having demands will present them in terms eftlie
law. NATHAN P. SINGLETARY,
May 7 8 Gt Adm'r.
FLORENCE, GA. SATURDAY, JULY 7, 1838.
-
From the Southern Literary JUcsscnecr.
SONG.
Air, Mrs. McDonalds.
Oh tmst not her love, ’twill endure but a day,
Like the golden winged butterfly,—child of an
hour,
Which only can live in the warm sunnv ray,
And delights in still roving horn flower to
flower.
Oh trust not her love, for ’tis not like that star,
That in heaven so bright and so steadfastly
shines;
Ah no, ’tis the moon, though surpassingly fair,
That is now at the full, and now waning de
clines.
Oh trust not her love; how unlike tdthat flower,
The emblem to love and to constancy dear,
That turns to the sun with each varying hour,
And follows her idol throughout his career.
Oh trust not her tlove, she will wind the soft chain
So closely around every chord of thy heart,
That when she proves faithless you’ll struggle in
vain
From her fair but false bosom to tear it apart.
From the Philadelphia Visiter.
THE POOR POET OF CRIPPLEGATE.
One night, in the melancholy month of Novem
ber, as I was sitting in my garret by the side of a
fire with very little heat, and a candle with very
little light, ruminating on the various follies and
pursuits of men, reflecting on the riches of some
and the indigence of others; figuring in my
mnd the waste, riot, and superfluity of many
among us poor mortals, and of my own excessive
poverty, sometimes sighing and wishing 1 had
strength sufficient for a bricklayer’s labourer, a; o'lt
ers my head reclining on my band, my toe tapping
and my mind philosophizing on the nature of man,
how few his real, how numerous his imaginary
wants, and how exceedingly happy arid charitable
I could be, if 1 had thirty pounds per year. In
the midst, I say, of these my cogitatkns, 1 heard
a double rap at the door, just as I was distributing,
out of my plenty, half a crown to a blind beggar,
and a bone to his dog. My reverie was at an end ;
a double rap was uncommon at the door of tlie
poor, the rich seldom called there—l listened.—
My landlady was gone out, and the intercession
for admittance was repeated. I took my candle
and ran down stairs. My imagination hurried me
away so fast, that 1 forgot my waiscoat was unbut
toned, and that my old brown coat had but one
lap. I knew not but it might be some lord who
had accidently heard of my poverty and merit,
and had flown to my relief. There are, doubtless
numberless lords and great men who would have
done it had they heard of me. It was not their
fault. In my haste to get down, one of my old
shoe slippers, and my woolen night cap, flew off.
The rain that half deluged my garret floor, in
formed me that 1 must not stay to e»ther them up,
the poor creature at the door would be wet. I
opened the door to a young lady—l thought at the
first it had been an angel. She started back a lit
tle. Indeed 1 had been very ill, and my clothes
were not quite so good as 1 could have wished :
she advanced, and begged me in a tiembling voice,
to be sure it was a sweet one, that I would let her
stand in the passage for a moment, and shut the
door, for she was apprehensive of being pursued
by some rude men, and being a stranger, she knew
not how to avoid them. Had she presented me
with a roll and a red herring instead of that fair
soft hand, it had not been half so welcome, though
1 cannot say hut 1 was very hungry. 1 drew her
in, and instantly shut the door. I told her that
the people belonging to the house did not happen
to be at home, but if she would kindly condescend
to walk up into my poor garret she should lie veiy
welcome. To be sure, it is but a pool place, con
tinued I, but indeed you shall he very welcome
Her eyes glistened—she looked as if she had not
power to deny my request; she sighed. I led,
and she followed. My night cap and slipper were
replaced. I handed her the only chair in the
room—l was sorry it had not a back. 1 stood by
the side of her, and observed her give a timid
glance round my poor garret, then turn her head
away, wipe her eyes, and smother the rising sigh :
Indeed, she was an angel! I began to wish for
riches, youth, and beauty, while I gazed upon her.
Vain aiid silly man is always wanting, never satis
fied. What right had 1 to be discontented, or
wish for any tiling but what I had—But man is
never satisfied, as 1 said before.
Pray, sir, said the divine cherub, will you be
kind enough to send for a bottle of wine to the
tavern over the way; lain somewhat faint. Yes,
indeed I would, I replied, if I had any money,
with all my soul; but I hope you—you will not
be offended that I have it not in my power —I am >
very sorry for it. I would ask them to trust me,
but lam afraid they will not; however, I will try,
and I will promise to pay them as soon as I can—
I hope they will not laugh at me—l will try.
She caught hold of my hand as I turned about,
and almost drowned it with tears—Pray, sir said
she, sobbing with pity and benevolence, as 1
thought, do not be offended that I intrude thus
upon you, be,pleased to take this, presenting me her
purse; lam very hungry likewise, pray sir, be so
kind as to order them to send me a fowl, or any
thing they have. Do not he offended! oh! that
I could entertain you according’ to my wishes?
said I, but pray do not send all this money by me,
they perhaps may suspect that 1 have stolen it.
They may perceive; nay, they know, that I am
poor—l offered the purse, she received it, tho’ I
thought she loooked as if she wished I would
keep it. She gave me a guinea, and I did as I
was desired. The waiter followed me up stairs.
I cannot say, but I imagined he rather had a very
impudent kind of look, and rather an inquisi
tive stare —though, to be sure, be might well be
surprised to see so beautiful a creature, and so
I well dressed too, in my poor garret—l was amazed
myself, nor could I scarcely, believe I was awake.
She gave him a shilling as his own perquisite. He
took it, gazed on her, stared at me, cast his eyes
round the room, and departed.
Come, sir, said she pray let me entreat you to
eat a little bit of supper with me. I cannot eat,
indeed, f you sit by without eating. Nay, pray,
sir, come; I will draw the table, and sit upon the
corner of the bed. Do, sir, take the chair.
Her eyes were brimful again. Indeed she was
an angel—l was very hungry, and she asked in so
sweet a manner, that it was impossible to resist, it
was a fine fowl, and the sweetest I think, I ever
tasted in alljmy life. To be sure I was very
hungry. She said at first she was hungry like
wise. I could not see any thing that she had
eaten, except picking one of the side bones. She
seemed to mind nothing, only the helping of me.
I told her of it. She gave men smile of the most
enchanting complaisance, and replied she was en
tirely happy to see me eat—her hunger was aba
ted.
Well, to be sure, every time I looked at her,
ever time I recollected myself, l could not help
thinking that this was an odd adventure.
When supper was over, and little remaining of
the fowl except the bones, the young creature as
ked how long I had Jived in my present lodging?—
I told her fifteen years, but that there was anew
landlady come to the house, and l was afraid she
would turn me out, for that I had a severe fit of
sickness, which had taken the trifle of money
which I had, and had likewise unfurnished my
garret: and that my quarter’s rent had been due
nbotTt 3*%eek, which had caused my present lady,
as I imagined, to speak in a very surly manner to
me. I would sell my bed to pay her, continued
I, with all my heart, but they give so little for se
cond-hand things, that I am afraid that will not do.
Well, to be sure, 1 thought it very strange, I
could not say a word, but this kind angel was wi
ping her eyes.
The waiter now came, as he had been ordered,
to fetch away the plates and other tilings which
had been sent over with the fowl. As he was going
out again, he met my landlady entering tlie door.
Hey day! exclaimed she, what are these? and
where have you been ? Up stairs into tlie garret,
returned the waiter, with a fowl to your lodger;
and a fine young lady is with him, ‘Up stairs into
the garret, with fowl!’ ‘Yes,into the garret with
a fowl; and a bottle of wine, to raise their spirits,
1 suppose:—l think they want it. She is a fine
young creature, to be sure, but she has a plaguy
queer choice,’ ‘A fine young creature, and a bot
tle of wine! Very well, very well, upon tny word!
A fowl, too’—up stairs she bolted and began
“Why, hark you, Mr. Shaberoon, you Mr.
Poet, what is the reason that you doesnt’t pay me
my good thirteen shillings and two pence half
penny that you owes me ?—A fine way, indeed, to
pay yourrent, to be jurketing with your fine mad
ams upon wine and fowls ! But I would have you
to know, Sir, that although to be sure I’m hut a
poor parson, I am honest—There isn't any parson
in Cripplegate parish keeps a more betterer or a
more decenter house nor I do. 1 keeps no bad
houses.’
The sweet creature was shocked, and turned
aside her head.
“Don’t turn up your nose rt me. I say T keeps
no bad houses, nor for the best noblemen that ever
stepped the king’s ground; so don’t think to bring
any of your kept madams into my departments, to
bring an ill kiracter upon my house.’,
‘Madam!’ said the young lady, with the utmost
timidity—‘Madams !—Yes madams. You cant
take the law of me for that—l did’nt say you was
a mind, whatever 1 may think. And if
vou, Mr. Farthing Poet, must have your Madams,
you shall get em’ in some body el’ses house, and
not in mine, I’ll promise you; and if you don’t
pay me my rent tomorrow moring I’ll take out an
executioner, and sieze upon what few rags and
sticks you have left Thank God, the landlord
comes first.’
Nay, pray do not do that, said 1:—I will pay you
as soon as. I can indeed.
How much is the rent, said the trembling che
rub.
Why. thirteen shillings, said she, the rent is,
madam, besides two pence half penny that I lent
him out of my pocket, at rarisum times, half
penny and a farthing a time, and to be sure its very
hard. I has nothing but what I works for, anil 1
caut't afford to lend my salt and give my eggs into
the bargin. Purvisions are very scarce—then
there’s rent, and winder money, and poor rates
and common shore, and scavenger, and don’t know
how much; one can’t feed hungry children with
bad debts, you know, madam I didn’t mean to fend
you. Madam, I only want my own. Nobody can
he blamed for seeking after their own, Madam.
The shirt isn’t so near at the skin, you know,
Madam, and I hope y;e doesn’t take any thing a
miss Madam, for when considerates the thing
Madam, I can’t say as how you has any thing the
l appearance of a bad person Madam ; to be sure
l l am a little passionate, Madam, and its soon over
* with me- -and I am shure there’s nobody, better
nateader, nor betterer temperer’d, nor more readier
to do a good turn nor I am, Madam.
All the time during the last harrangue she kept
softening her tone, which was rather shrill it must
be owned at first, while her eye continually glanced
towards the purse in the young lady’s hand.
Pray, sir, said the sweet cherubim, do not be
offended with me, I must insist upon paying this
small triflle—nay, nay, good heaven? pray rise,
sir—-I must not be thanked ! you have done more
than this perhaps for me, sir.—Me! Madam—
when ? no, no—alas! I have not had the means
to do so much these many years : but you arc an
angel, and l will pray'foryou. Yes,indeed, she is an
angel, rejoined the landlady, and you ought to pray
for her, and 1 hope your ladyship doesn't take to
heart what I said ; 1 would not offend her lady
ship for the world; but her ladyship knows, thal
always taking out of the meal tub, and never put
ting in, one soon comes to the bottom; and a smal
leak will sink a great ship, or else I am sure 1
wouldn’t have said a word to the gentleman no!
Vol. I.— No. 15.
your Jadyship ; but nobody know s where the shoe
pinches so well as he that wears it, or else I am
sartin there isn’t a better natered person on the
face of the yarth nor I am, though 1 say it*
Perhaps her husband, had he been present,
might have contradicted her. if her durst.
Well, said the sweet creature, in the most
affable manner imaginable, you will not be quite so
passionate for the future, perhaps it w ill all be for
the better. Away she now went down stairs, tal
king all the way about her nature.
As soon as she was gone, the sweet creature beg
ged me to tell her whether I had ever bceu mar
ried—The question made my sorrows overflow—
Dear, madam, pray excuse, me, said I—l cannot
restrain my tears—married—Oh! Lisbon ! Oh!
Maria!—pray forgive me—’tis now, madam, six
teen years since 1 lost my dear Maria: alas! how
many heavy sighs, how many melancholy hours,
how many restless nights and dolelul days has the
sad remembrance cost me! my kind, my dear
Maria—-thy heart was cheerful—-and thy soul was
tender—thy enlivening conversation, thy happy
disposition, thy mild and alleviating temper, thy
innocent and benevolent thoughts, were so many
sources of continual pleasure to me, to thyself, to
all who knew thee—every body praised, for every
body loved thee, and sought tliy company; tor
there the wretched found an open ear, and a ten
der heart, ever ready o share their sorrows, and
the fortunate a cheerful mind that partook of ad
their joys, without envying any of their happiness ;
alas! thou art gone! my days had surely else
have been no sorrow s : but thou wert too good for
me or this poor world : excuse my tears; tny poor
Sophia too; my lovely darling—my tender bird
snatched from me just when thy chirping halt
formed notes stole sweetly on my soul—-just as
thy little antics, witty far beyond thy years, came
thrilling to my heart and made me snatch thee
often to my eager arms, and dwell with kisses ou
thy prattling lips. Alas, madam, you seem too
much affected—-I hope—Oh! sir—Madam. I
am—What Madam?—l am your daugh —— lly
daughter! Oh! heavens my child! gracious prov
idence! my dear infant! my sweet Sophia! alas, I
fear it is impossible ! Speak to me il thou art my
child !—Oh God !
Oh ! my fa’her ! my dearest, dearest father. Tt
is impossible—exclaimed I, again—did not I see
the perish! alas! alas! this is but a heavenly
vision; I must shortly awake to misery and wolul
recollection—and yet thou art an angel ?Oh !
God of heaven permit to hope if thou bc’st
my child, thou hast a strawberry on thy breast.
Here it is, my dearest father.
Almighty Lord, thy mercies are infinite ! thou
art my child—the God of all worlds sent an angel
to thy rescue. Did I not see the horrid chasm
w herein both thee and thousands were enveloped ?
Did I not fly from Lisbon from tlie horrid jaws of
—but hold--tell me, I tremble while 1 ask
does—’tis too much—l cannot hope-—does Ma
ria—She lives, sir, she lives, and wants but you to
make her happy—never till to day could we hear
the least tidings of yon : an honest hearted wretch,
whom, three years since, you once relieved, heard
your name, and said be could never forget it—ho
heard you called likewise the charitable Poor
Poet of Cripplegate—my dearsest mother by
chance heard him drop a word ; she enquired : be
not offended that we, made use of a stratagem
but liark; she’s at the door: 1 kuow her
tread ; she’s coming—she’s flying—she’s here—
she’s in your arms.
Sparc me, gentle reader, do not expect me to
describe what heart can scarce conceive—lmagine
two people who had the tenderest, the sinceresf,
the most inviolable affection, lost to each other
for 16 years, after the most diligent enquiries on
one side and the most abandoned despair on the
other—imagine a husband restored to the arms
of the most amiable of wives, after thinking lie
beheld the horrid grave wherein she lay entombed.
Imagine a wife come unexpectedly to relieve the
man whom she dearly loved, and w hom she never
hoped to see again, from penury and misery—think
you behold a blooming heavenly cherub, weeping
for joy at the happiness of those who gave her
being—think—think of happiness, think of joy,
think of ecstaey, think you behold the The Poor
Foct of Cripplegate.
Genuine and True.. —A young man who boarded
at a house in the country, where w ere several coy
damsels, was on one afternoon accosted by au
acquaintance, and asked what lie thought of tlie
young ladies. He replied they were very shy
and reservd.
“So they are,” returned the other, “and so
much so, that no gentleman could get near en
ought to tell the color of their eves.”
“That may be,” said the boarder quickly “yet
I will stake a million that I can kiss them "all
three without any trouble.”
“ That you cannot do,” cried his friend “It is
an achievement which neither you nor any other
man can accomplish.”
The other was positive, and invited his friend
to the house to witness histrumph. They entered
the room together, and the three girls were at
home sitting beside their mother, and they all
looked as prim as possible, and almost as sepul
chral as Mr. Toucey, lecturing on a duel.
Our hero assumed a very grave aspect, even
to dejection —and having looked wishfully at the
clock, breathed a sigh as deep as algebra, and as
long as a female dialogue at the street door. llis
singular deportment now attracted the attention
of the girls, who cast their slow'opening eyes up
wards to his countenance. Perceiving the im
pression he had made he turned to his companion
and said in a doleful voice—it wants three minutes
of the time.
“Do you speak of dinner ?” said the old luu)
putting down her sewing work.
“Dinner ?” said he with a bewildered aspect,
and pointing as if unconsciously, with curled
forefinger at the clock.
A silence ensued, during which the female part
of the household glared at the young man wi‘h
irrepressible curiosity.