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pcuotcb to Citcrature, Science, cmi> 2Vrt, tlje Sous of temperance, Tellotosl)ip, JJlasonrn, ant) ©eneral intelligence. VOLUME I. OBIISZJiASi VAIiS. ” THE SISTERS. BT H. M. C . Concluded from our last. CHAP. 111. n] Whose liandfAdone consent, and hearts abhor!” y week has passed, Mary has not answered Afr Brings’ epistle, and has, at last, yielded to flrr* Aster’s persuasions, and consented to accom ri/j; j jC r to Mrs. Barton’s to learn the art of f.j fin” flowers. It was a bright day when they Allied “forth to their employ. Mrs. Barton was a kind hearted, but vulgar woman, who had learned the trade in her youth, and who now exercised it for the support of herself and children, for she had foolishly and unfortunately married a man who became, as it were, a perfect burden on her hands, loafing it about, returning to her residence as he would to his boarding bouse. She received Alary and Emma kindly, told them they were rather late, but she would overlook it as it was their first morning, and eventually wound up with, ‘•Well! come in now, gals, and be brisk, for you must all work to-day like a house a fire.” The girls sat down to one of two long tables where a number of others were grouped. An hour or two passed in silence, and, hear it ye critics of theYnale sex, though there were at least a dozen girls in the room, silently, as I said, mod eling bright flowers. “Emma,” said the fastid ious 0 Mary, “is not that odor from the kitchen most disagreeable to you, I declare I am quite sick.” More Emma replied, however, Mrs. Bar ton said, “Young ladies, 1 do not allow chatting in the work room, it interferes with the work.” Another hour glided on, or rather, to our two heroines, dragged on, for the hours seemed clogg ed, and the one o’clock bell which now rang in the neighborhood seemed to summon from the “vasty deep of loferism” Mr. Barton, who pass ed through the room to his dinner. He was a tall, thin man, with that unmistakeable seedy ap pearance betokening a true loafer. But a few moments was given to his repast, when, after ex changing some hasty and rather ill natured re marks with his wife, of which the echo came to the ears of the girls, commingled with the aroma of a shocking bad cigar, he leisurely sauntered through the room again to return to his haunts. O O Soon Mrs. Barton returned, and in rather an excited manner seated herself on a low chair, squaring her hands on her knees, said emphati cally : 44 Take a piece of advice from me, gals, one and all, and never marry unless you are certain you ft ill get a good man, and that is just as un certain as the sun in April. When 1 was young 1 had another beau, aud because he was a car penter—though lie’s powerful rich now, and rides in his carriage—-I was sich a fool that I thought nothing would suit but a gentleman, and lord a mercy 1 ain’t I got a nice one ! Well! bad as he looks now, he had a pretty face, white hands, be cause you see lie was a” dark and writ, and 1 ‘Harried him; and bless your soul! he keeps l!, eai same hands of his’n white yet, the lazy hones! fo r h e leaves me every care on earth to do.” J 1 his longest of all long days, at length drew 10 a close, and the street-lamps were lit as they pursued their home ward route, and at last, shrink ing from every chance passer, entered their own j ,)or with beating hearts and frightened nervous My first and last day at learning a trade,” ,‘ ar y> a $ she threw her bonnet and shawl on a e nnd advanced to the scanty fire in excited contern ptuous looks, “ that horrid vulgar her lnatr ? ma ’ fr you could have only beheld tact * a g a io subject myself to a con thnr T Vu lgarity. Marry old Braggs, yes! willing ’ Nvere he twice as old and hateful, I .•Oh sister y r - v ’ (1 ° n °t say so,” interrupted her von pLi , ou . sare ly would not marry one whom have spp n . eidjer We or respect. Besides, you to sunn \ - W ? rs b ba ve only the moral courage a few w F i. 1 HS sltuabon > disagreeable I allow, for n'eni'i] r, n r and We can then select a more con- Peonlp t i° r our We mixed with those cooL; n °' day ’ but ourselves, are innately But Wp US We “ were wW them, but not of them.” Vi SS ecnnV ol ir t 0 marry Mr - Brl gg 3 ’ yc \ u become ever j- and f ’ and cannot get rid of him how b,a^*reea^e be rosiy be. In sickness, .in /or the ln -r°, ys or sorr ows, you cannot fly to him %otf i eSdearest P rivi l e S e —sympathy, for he v ul gar i , lf * Be has been reared as coarsely, as u > V a ?. tbe P ers ons who have thus disgusted e Wce ’’ S Us mone y alone that makes the difF- “Emma, I know it is a dreadful perspective, but ’t is still more so for me to work, I will gild the pill, bitter as it is, in dreams for the future, and buy with his wealth, pleasures to compensate for the loss of my love, for the refined, the beau tiful in the home circle, I reiterate it, I cannot and will not work !” “You can if you wish it. It is difficult at first to bind yourself to strict rules, because you have only been accustomed to employ yourself as your fancy dictated.” “ It is useless to argue, Emma, I have decided I will not return to Mrs. Barton’s, and I have no other‘alternative.” “Well, Mary, try plain sewing at home. I have no doubt but I can get you some. “I would not earn my salt at it.” “ One more appeal to your heart, if not your judgment. Can you dare to marry another when your every thought turns to one, in every way calculated to make you happy.” “Hush! Emma, I shall get seriously angry with you if you speak thus. He has never prof fered a word of love to me, and 1 have no right to think he ever casts a thought upon me.” “Yet I am sure he loves you, and that he does not speak of it he must feel as in those favorite lines of his from Mrs. Hemens: “ There’s such a glory on thy cheek, And such a magic power around thee, That if I could, 1 would not break, The spell with which thine eye has bound me.” “If you are correct in your surmises, why has he not called since papa’s death. But spare your breath,” she continued, indignantly, “lie thought me rich, but now he does not wish to burden him self with a poor wife, I see it all.” “ Perhaps he has not returned, at least wait a week before you say “yes” to Mr. Briggs, for I shall certainly look upon that decision to be the requiem to all your hopes of happiness.” “Oh ! do pray hush! Emma, I am sleepy and tired of this nonsense*” She raised the candle from the table and as she walked up the staircase the indefatigable Emma following her, still urged his cause, saying, “ Do you remember, Mary, when Layton brought you that beautiful edition of Mrs. Hemen’s his marking those exquisite lines for you, “ Oh ! cast thou not Affection from thee ; in this better world Hold to thy heart this only treasure fast, AVatch, guard it, suffer not a breath to dim The bright jems purity.” “ Once more Emma, will you hush, for I am tired both of your prose and poetry.” Mary spoke the truth when she said she had decided. To save her refined and morbidly sen sitive feelings contact from o collision with the vulgar, she cared not what she had to encounter, so she could once again reinstate herself in the sphere from which she had been hurled ; and to surround herself anew with the appliance of wealth and luxury. So the answer was written and despatched ; and I shall not linger here to tell of the pompous arrival of the bridegroom elect, the rich but gaudy presents he showered on his intended, their quiet wedding, with none present but the mother and sister, and the soirow fui parting of Mary from them, as she stepped again into her carriage, which was to eonxey her to the Liverpool steamer, on her way, as the be ginning of her European tour. They still lingered at the window when a step crossed the pave, and they beheld Mr. Layton. He entered with afaceMie in vain endeavored to sober down into symipathy for their loss, (foi he was buoyed up by the hope of seeing Mary,) but he expressed himself tenderly and feelingly for their misfortunes, and then inquired for her. Emma's blank look startled him. fiom Ins dicam, and he turned to Mrs. Atkins: “ Shall I not have the pleasure of seeing Miss Mary?” , „ i r “ Have you not heard • and a ol tears at the remembrance of the parting, inter rupted the disclosure. . . “For God’s sake!” exclaimed he, now thor oughly aroused, “ tell me, has any thing happen ed? Is she ill? do, do tell me, I pray you Mrs. Atkins, Miss Emma?” “ She is married,” was the answer. Horror struck he stood, almost gasping out, “impossible, married, and 1 but to whom l “ Mr. Briggs,” said Emma. How hotly and indignantly did the blood now flush up into his cheeks and temples at the idea of him, the rough, vulgar old man, bearing off his treasured Mary, whom he had even feaied anger by his sincere profter of devoted love, and he sat silent, scarce replying to Miss Emma and her mother’s questions; and soon he ielt them, with a palor of the cheek and cloud on his brow, in sad contrast to the hopeful ngnt -ook with which he had hurried into their presence. SAVANNAH, GA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1849. CHAP. IV. “1 do not love Much ceremony; suits in love should not Like suits in law, be rocked from term to term.” Months rolled on, occasionally gladdened by a letter from Mary, speaking of the strange sights she saw, the people she met, but old Briggs’ name did not figure on the page at all. Mr. Layton sought sympathy in her society for his recent wound, and then his visits began to increase both in number and length, until he no longer wanted the excuse of anew book, choice fruit or bright flowers to pay his accustomed visit. And when at the end of the year, Emma was about to seek more humble lodgings for herself and mother, lie offered her his heart and hand, and Emma, with all her straightforward simplicity of character at once accepted him, for she had long seen she had rivalled Mary in his esteem, and loving him as no one but a true hearted woman can love. Their wedding, too, was quiet, but oh ! how unmeasurably happier than her sister’s, and they removed to a nice two story house in a retired street, plainly but comfortably furnished, where they lived in peace. Skip ten years, and again we will see the sis ters in their respective dwellings. Enter with treading me into Mr. Briggs’ superb mansion, and softly 7 on the splendid Brussels, ascend with me the broad staircase, and then enter the bed-room of the owner of that elegant house. Behold him writhing and twisting in the agonies of a severe attack of acute rheumatism. “Mary,” said he crossly, “ why in the devil’s name don’t you come here and help Mrs. Norton, I did not take you out of your poverty to show your airs to me, I mar ried you my fine madam, to entertain my com pany, and nurse me when this rheumatism takes me.” Mary arose from the distant part of the room to where she had retreated but a short time be fore from bis angry words. Never amiable, at best, aggravated now by the severe attack from which he was suffering, lie vented on her all his spleen, not daring to do so to bis nurse, fearful she would leave him. Another picture and we have done. In an equally splendid house not far from Mr. Briggs, lived the Laytons. The world had gone well with them, for his attention to his profession, per severance and talents, aided by his wife’s indus try and economy, had made all things wear a smiling aspect. Late on the evening of the same day to which we have glanced in the house of the Briggs, could you have seen into the back parlor of the Layton’s, what a contrast would have presented itself. There sat Wm. Layton in a cozy arm chair, eyeing with a quiet smile his boy of eight summers, reading intently some story book, whilst a curly head little fairy of a girl was making the room ring with her laughter, as she tried now and then to catch her grand-ma’s watch. Emma, who had been joining in the laugh, now giving her babe lo the nurse, said: “ Let us have tea, mamma, for ’twill soon be time to dress for Madam Seguin’s concert.” “Have you sent to see if Mary will accompany us,” said Mr. Layton, “ she is so fond of music.” “Yes,” said Emma, “but Mr. Briggs lias very politely sent back my messenger with the answer that she cannot go, as lie does not believe in a woman’s flaunting around whilst her husband is sick.” When Thomas Campbell made a voyage from the Elbe to Yarmouth, he had fora fellow-passen ger one Donavan, a Croppy of 1798. The Bri tish Government was warned of Donavan’s return, and he was arrested and committed to the Tower. A year afterwards Campbell encountered him in the streets of London, when the following conver sation ensued, as related by Campbell himself: “Ha, Donavan,” said 1, “f wish you joy, my good fellow, in getting out of the Tower, where I was told they were likely to treat you like another Sir William Wallace.” “Och,” said he, “good luck to the Tower! black the day 1 was turned out of it! Would that any one could get me into it for life !” “ My stars ! and were you not in confinement ?” “ Tschach ! The Government allowed me a pound sterling a day as a State prisoner. The Tower jailor kept a glorious table, and he let me out to walk where 1 liked all day long—perfectly secure that I would return at meal times. And then, besides, he had a nice pretty daughter.” “ And don’t you go and see her in the Tower?” ** Why, no, my good fellow. The course of true love never did run smooth. I discovered she had no money, and she found out that my Irish estates, and'all that I had told her about their being confiscated in the rebellion, was sheer blar ney. So when the day arrived that your merci less Government ordered me to be liberated, I was turned adrift on the wide world, and glad to become a reporter to the newspapers.” Treatment of Persons apparently Drowned. —The first object is the restoration of the animal heat. For this purpose, the wet clothes are to be re moved without delay, and the body, after being well dried, is to be surrounded with warm air. The heat should at first be moderate, and gently increased. In the absence of a warm air bath, the body should be laid in a well-heated bed or blankets, and bottles of hot water laid to the feet and arm-pits. A warming-pan* or heated brick should be passed over the body,or gentle friction exercised with other warm substances. Mean while, continual though gentle attempts should be made to excite respiration artificially. If there be any signs of returning life, such as sighing or convulsive twitching, a vein may'be opened. The throat may be tickled, to excite a propensity to vomit, and a table spoonful of warm diluted wine or brandy may be given. Keen if no vestige of returning animation be discovered , these means of recovery should be persisted in for three or four hours. Many instances have occurred where persons have been under water for 1-5 or 20 minutes, and even longer, and yet recovery has been effected by long and skilful exertion. To remove Stains from Cloth or Silk. —Pound French chalk fine, mix with lavender water to the thickness of mustard. Put on the stain ; rub it soft with the finger, or palm of the hand. Put a sheet of blotting and brown paper on the top, and smooth it with an iron milk warm. Balls for re moving spots from clothes may be thus prepared. Fuller’s earth, perfectly dried, so that it crumbles into a powder, is to be moistened with the clear juice of lemons, and a small quantity of pure pearl ashes is to be added. Knead the whole carefully together, till it acquires the consistence of a thick elastic paste ; form them into small balls and dry them in the sun. First, moisten the spot on the clothes with water, then rub it with the ball, dry it in the sun, and wash it with pure water. JFar and strong Drink. —From extensive calcu lations it seems that the average of human births per second, since the birth of Christ to the pres ent time, is about 5.15, which gives about thirty two thousand millions ; and after deducting the present supposed population of the world, (960,- 000,000,) leaves the n umber of thirty-one thousand and forty millions that have gone down to the grave; giving death and the grave the victory over the living, to the number of thirty thousand and eighty millions. Os this number, in the grave, about 9,000,000,000 have died by war. 7,920,000,000 by famine and pestilence. 500,000,000 by martyrdom. 580,000,000 by intoxicating drinks. 13,000,000,000 natural or otherwise. Thus it will be seen lhat war and strong drink have sent nearly one-third of the banian race to a premature grave. If strong drink has now had its 580,000,000 of victims, how many more must it have before the moderate drinker will lay his shoulder to the pledge of reform ? Suppose it required even no more than fifty bushels of grain, distilled, to make a man a drunkard, how long would it last famish ing Europe—nay, even the whole world? It would amount to fifty-eight hundred millions of barrels of flour. The calculations on this sub ject might be extended to an almost indefinite length, and perhaps, too, with propriety, if thought and meditation would dwell upon them and de duce the moral from each and every avenue. A Scene in Court. —The Cincinnati Commercial l tells a good story of a scene in a court of that city* We give the story as that paper tells it: Not a bad anecdote is told of Esquire Wick Roll. A case of assault and battery came before him sometime since, and after an examination of several witnesses, one of them, whom the ’Squire had questioned rather sharply, became highly in censed, and uncorking the vials of his wrath, said he could “ whip any man that doubted his word under oath.” The ’Squire pulled off his specta cles, made a leap over the rail, and cried, “ The court stands adjourned till the sight’s overand then, in a trice, “harnessed” to the witness and whipped him in about as quick time as he sup posed to be agreeable. The belligerent witness being disposed of, the ’Squire very gravely con tinued the case, and gave in his decision accord ing to the evidence. He who sedulously listens, pointedly asks, calm ly speaks, coolly answers, and ceases when he has no more to say to the point, is the fittest for business, and is sure to succeed. To take Mildew out of Linen. —Rub it well with soap; then scrape some fine chalk, and rub that also on the linen ; lay it on the grass; as it dries, wet it a little, and it will come out after twice doing. i NUMBER 31