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OSE6XHA !■ W&mwmT. ror a Friend of the Family. TO A MOSQUITO. Tiny torment! why wilt thou Still thy song chnunt in mirre ear ? Censer thy music ! or I vow Soon shall eixl thy brief career! Tell me, tefl mo, why dost thou Linger last of all thy race 1 Haste ! oh haste ! I tell thee now Winter’s coming on npHce! Go, T pray! in peace depart ! Go, aud 1 will thee forgive ; Go, and I’ll forget thy smart! Go in peace, repent and live. Go, and I no more will write ; Go, aud let me end my lay; Go, marauder of the night I Go, disturber of the day f If thou’lt drown thee in the flood While I scratch thy blotch of white, I'll forgive each drop of blood I>rawn from me by thee this night. Oft at night, when sleep I’ve sought, Thou hast kept me long awake ! Go, “ for certainly thou ought” Go, or I will vengeance take! Cease, 3 say, thy serenade I Cease, oh thy song so shrill; Cease, or low thou shall bo laid, Ere thou canst send in thy bill! Offspring of the stagnant pool! Stay’s! thou to annoy me still ? If thou liugerest long, poor fool, Thy ill-gotten blood I’ll spill! Begone ! or I will crusti thee flat! Haste ! while my hands extended 6tay ; Fly’st thou not ? then take thou that! Aud with thy life, now euds my lay. W. - MI g C DOING A COLLECTOR OR CONTEMPT OF COURT. ’Twas in New Orleans, some two years ago, that this little incident occurred. During the ab sence or illness of the Recorder of the first mu nicipality, the presiding functionary for the time being was alderman B e. ’Twas probably owing to the fact, this “ Col lector” was not “well posted’’ in bis French, that caused him to come so near being “ put through ” to a course of the “ damp and dirty.” Our friend entered one morning just as the court was opened. The clerk was “on band,” several officers were “ about,” and several of the “ un washed ” bad taken the “anxious seat,” when said “ Collector” presented to Alderman B e an account for payment, remarking (for about the twentieth time) ihat it was of “long standing,” overlooked, of course, small amount, convenient, etc., etc., when he heard someone exclaim— “ Take or y r er hat and cote ! ” Thinking only of his chances for another long walk, he paid no attention to the remark.—l -in a loud,fierce tone was repeated —“ Take ov yer hat an ze cote I ” by a little frog-eating Frenchman, with an immense moustache, resem bling, as to shade, a faded pair of nankeen pants, while the proprietor of the “ ornament ” look the unsuspecting “ Collector” into the clerk’s of fice, where the following conversation ensued— “ Vat for you no take ov ze hat and ze cote ? ” “ Thankee, believe not just now—aint partial to shirt-sleeves in the winter.” “ Have you no respec for ze cote ? ” “Respect for my coat! Os course I have, said our friend, buttoning up his sack, and look in” down on it with a self-satisfied air, “ Tolera hie good coat, I fancy ! ” “One! certanement! ze dress est bon, pour von shentleman, but you no take ov ze hat in ze respec of ze cote ! ” “ You can ‘take my hat’ if I understand your lingo ; why by Jove don’t you speak English—l cannot comprehend your ‘ nigger French,’ ” said our friend getting his “ back up.” “ Von time I tell you ze respec ! Two tree time I tell you take ov ze hat an ze cote ! By gar, Monsieur! I show to you ze respec. Ah, Mon sieur! you make ze allusions to ze—me speakee ze Francaise,” said the Frenchman, in a rage at the allusion to his “ faeon de parlee.” “Le dia hle ! I sail take ov zehat! Ha ! ” said he, suit in” the action to the*word, and our friend’s heaver o went flying across the room. His coat wasoff in an instant, and he “struck an attitude” —ala Fistiania —and commenced sundrv gyrations of a decidedly hostile nature, accompanied by sundry allusions to, and vari ous estimates of the time necessary “to smash some one’s hill,” together with some scientific flourishes of his “fives,” in the immediate vicin ity of the Frenchman’s profile, and hints as to punched heads, and cracked mugs, sneezers, and claret, etc. The Frenchman thinking he was fast losing “ze respect” for everything, sung out something in French, when the Collector was ta ken by each shoulder, and informed (in excellent English) that he inightput on his coat preparatory to his accepting a shorleaseof one of the “ small cribs” in the immediate vicinity, for “contempt of court.” The Frenchman had said in his own peculiar style--“ Take off yourhat in court,” which sound ed like “ Take off* vour hat and coat.” The prisoner had to pass directly in front of the Recorder’s seat to the yard, in his way to the “ snug apartments.” Alderman B e inquired —in French—what was wrong, and when in formed, said— “Ah! it is von mistake —as shentleman was notcomprehendez ! Let him go, Monsieur ; 1 sail pav ze bill to you, my fren, in ze morning.” We never heard if that hill was collected, hut we presume that it was, though our friend says this was his last act of “Contempt of Court.” — Spirit of the Times. Taking Toll. —The St. Louis Reveille is pub lishing a tale, purporting to give some adventures in the life of a young physician, from which we take the following extract: A snow having fallen, the young folks of the village got up a grand sleighing party to a coun try tavern at some distance; and the interesting Widow Lambkin sat in the same sleigh, under the same buffalo robe, with myself. “Oh, oh—don’t!” she exclaimed, as we came to the first bridge, catching me by the arm, and turning her veiled face towards me, while her lit tle eyes twinkled through the gauze, in the moon light. “ Don’t what?” I asked ; “ I’m not doing any thing.” “ Well, but I thought you- were going to take toll,” replied Mrs. Lambkin. “ Toll ?” I rejoined ; “ what’s that?” “Now, do tell?” exclaimed the widow, her clear laugh ringing above the music of the hells. “ Dr. Mellows pretends that he don’t know what toll is !” “Indeed I don’t, then,” I said, laughing in turn. “Don’t know that the gentlemen, when they go a-sleighing, claim a kiss, as toll when they cross a bridge ! Well I never!” But shall I tell it all ? The struggles of the widow to hold the veil were not sufficient to tear it, and somehow, when the veil was removed, her face was turned directly towards mv own, and then, the snow glistering in the moonlight, and the horse trotting on of himself, the 101 l was ta ken, for the first time in the life of Dr. Me flows. Soon we came to the long bridge, hut the widow said it was “nouse to resist,” and she paid up as soon as we reached it. “But you won’t take toll for every span, will you, Doctor?” she asked. To which the only reply was, a practical negative to the question. Did you ever, reader, sleigh-ride with a widow, and take toll at the bridges? Hindoo Wit. —We find the following in a for eign newspaper: A Hindoo having been sum moned to give evidence before the court of judi cature in Calcutta, deposed that such a circum stance happened in her presence. The judge asked where it happened ; she replied in the ve randah of such a house. “ Pray, my good woman,” said the judge, “how many pillars are there in that verandah?” “ The woman, not perceiving the trap that was laid before her, without much consideration, said that the verandah was supported by four pillars. The counsel for the opposite party immediately offered to prove that the verandah contained five pillars, and that, consequently, no credit could he given to her evidence. O # # The woman, perceiving her error, addressed the judge : “ My lord,” said she, “your lordship has for many years presided in this court, and every day that you come here ascend a flight of stairs; may I beg to know how many steps the stairs consist of?” The judge confessed that he did not know. “ Then,” replied she, “if ymur lordship cannot tell the number of steps you ascend daily to the seat of justice, it cannot he astonishing that 1 should forget the number of pillars in a balcony which I never entered half a dozen times in my life.” The judge was much pleased with the woman’s wit, and decided in favor of her party. Friends. —There re three sorts of friends—the first is like a torch we meet in a dark street —the second is like a candle in a lantliorn that we over take—the third is like a link that offers itself to the stumbling passenger. The met torch i?the sweet-lipped friend,which lends us a flash of com pliment for the time hut quickly leaves us to our former darkness. The overtaker lam horn is the true friend, which, though it promises but a faint light, yet it goes along with us as far as it can, to our journey’s end. The offered link is the merce nary friend, which, though it he ready enough to do us service, that service hath a servile relation to our bounty.— Quarles. At the Scientific Convention recently held at Boston, a paper, written by Professor Hers ford, was read, in which an account is “iven of a cave, situated about twelve miles from the Mammoth Cave, in Kentucky, and supposed robe larger than it. Mr. J. S. Stevenson, of Bovvling Green, has penetrated it to a distance of fi e and it then seemed still expanding. “Mother,” said a little ’><> , “I’ve got a had headache and sore throat t > “ Well, v u shall have some oil,” said the m her. “ It’s no mat ter,” retorted the shrewd urchin, “ I’ve got ’em, [but they don't hurt me. The Seed Corn. —Two travellers once rested on their journey at an inn, when suddenly a cry arose that there was a fire in the village. One of the travellers immediately sprang up and ran off to afford assistance. But the other strove to de tain him, saying, “ Why should you waste your time? Are there not hands enough to assist ? Why concern ourselves about strangers? ” His friend however, listened not to his remon strances, but hastened to the fire, the other fol lowing and looking on at a distance. A woman rushed out of the burning house screaming, crying, “ My children ! my children !” When the stranger heard this, he darted into the house amongst the burning timbers, while the flames raged fiercely around him. “He will surely perish ! ” cried the spectator’s. But after a short time, behold he came forth with scorched hair, carrying two young children in his arms, and delivered them to their mother. She embraced the infants, and fell at the stran ger’s feet, but he lifted her up and comforted her. The house soon after fell with a terrible crash. As the stranger and his companion returned to the inn, the latter said, “Who bade thee risk thy life in such a dangerous attempt ?” “ He.” answered the first, “ who bid me put the seed into ground, that it may decay, end bring forth new fruit.’’ “ But if thou hadst been buried among the ruins ? ” His companioned smiled, and said, “Then should 1 myself have been the seed ! ”—Krum machcr. Self-Made Men. —Columbus was a weaver. — Franklin was a journeyman printer. Sixtus V. was employed in herding swine. Ferguson and Burns were ploughmen. dEsop was a slave.— Homer was a beggar. Defoe was a hosier’s ap prentice. Hogarth, an engraver on pewter pots. Ben Jonson was a bricklayer. Person was the son of a parish clerk. Akenside was the sJh of a butcher —so was Wolsey. Cervantes was a common soldier. Halley was the son of a soap boiler. Arkwright was a barber. Belzoni, the son of a barber. Blackstone and Southey were the sons of linen-drapers. Crabbe, a fisherman’s son. Keats, the son of a livery stable-keeper. — Buchanan was a farmer. Canova, the son of a maso i. Captain Cook began his career as a cabin boy. Haydn was the son of a poor wheelwright. Hogg was a shepherd. The list might be ex tended. Genius,talent, skill, greatness of charac ter, are confined to no rank. The world’s most eminent men have generally issued from the cottage. Poverty a Blessing. — Rev. Mr. , having been on a visit to one of his poor Scottish parish ioners, who was taken ill, and being about to take his leave, held out his hand to Ihe object of his visit, who pressed it affectionately, at the same time thanking his pastor for his kind solicitude about his soul’s welfare, and, in conclusion, said : “God grant ye, sir, great abundance of poverty here, and a double portion o’ it through a’ eter nity.” “ What!” said the astonished clergyman, “do you wish me to become poor?” “ Wi’a’ my heart, sir,” answered the old man seriously; “ye ken a hundred limes, and mair, hae ye told me that poverty was a blessing, an’ I’m sure there’s mine I could wish to see better blessed than your self.” A solemn pause ensued. At length the minister said, with an air of touching humility, whi ch showed he felt the full force of the cutting reproof—“ Well, James, I never thought seriously on that point till this moment; poverty cannot be a blessing—it is at best a misfortune .” London Literature. —ln a window in the White Horse Yard, Drury Lane, may be seen a bill, announcing that “karpets is beet and mezzages tended to,” by the person in the kitchen. In Duke street, Westminster, “ile, for sallydes, is sold ; and in Union street, Somer’s town, a paper in the window announces that “a yung hooman is wanted to nus a divide.” In Margaret street aboard informs us that “ noates and leetters is punkuliy delivered and herrands dun.” Mr. G. Thomas, of Drummond street, informs his friends and the world, that he “ rites petishuns and let hers thortest notis,” and Miss Augustus Kennedy, of the same locality, takes into “hedukatein sow ing and reading.” A Mr. John Miles, of Gray’s Inn Lane, teaches “ singeing panefirte,” whilst Mrs. Murry, of Waterloo road, “lets logins for singel men.” It would take a column or more to chronicle all the good things to be seen, in a literary wav, in the windows of London. Making and, Reviewing Books. —Hannah More in a letter written more than forty years ago, thus finds fault with the mode at that time in vogue of • • • O making and reviewing books. The custom, how ever, is by no means obsolete. “We have been reading a treatise on the morality of Shakspeare, it is a happy and easy way of filling a book that the present race of authors have arrived at —that of criticising the worksof some eminent poet, with monstrous extracts and short remarks. It is a spec ies of cookery I begin to grow tired of. They cut up authors in to chops, and by addmg a little crumbled bread of their own, and tossing it up a little, they present it as a fresh dish; you are to dine upon the poet; the critic supplies the garnish, yet has the credit as well as the profit of the whole entertainment.** A Word to the Marrying. —There is great br as well as most wholesome advice in the foil - ing: ow ’ “Let thy liking ripen before thou lovest-1 thy love advise before thou maketh thy choic . and let thy choice he fixed before thou marryesr* The above is worthy of being pinned i n bonnet of every unmarried marriageable wom n ° and of being pasted in the hat of every ing young man in the country. If its teach in'!’ were heeded we have no doubt domestic clistur bailees would less frequently enter our i legislative halls for adjustment than is now ii e case. This love at first sight, so popular with poetic young gentleman, has been proved by S J experience as not generally suited to this matter ot-fact world. We have no recollection of a mat}, in marriage that ever suffered from blendiaa a little common sense with it. One of the largest dry goods establishments at Boston, in their advertisement in the Travellei holds out, as an additional inducement for gers” to visit the establishment, a free exhibition of some $15,000 gold dust, just received, p er Empire Gity, rotn California. Ihe precious metal is herped up in a “big pile “on one end of th e counter, and is stated to be the return proceeds of a lot of dry goods a member of the firm sent off to El Dorado when the gold fever first broke out. A FSi END OF THE FAMILY. SAVANNAH, THURSDAY, OCT. 11. IBt9. AGENTS. Mr. J. M. Boardman is oar Agent for Macon. Mr. S. S. Box for Rome. Mr. Flodt. E- Skylk for the State of South Carolina. James O’Conner, Travelling Agent. Dr. M. Woodruff, Columbus, Ga. The Providence Day Star records the following beautiful sentiment of Father Mathew—A lady complimented hi,,, upon being so useful in the cause of temperance. “Ah. Madam, we never thank the rain drops but the author of them. lam but an humble instrument in the cause.” \\\> saw yesterday the medal which is presented to each one who signs the pledge of total abstinence. The number on the ticket was 5,745,358. Fkncf. Posts.—lt is said that if these posts are set limb part down, or inverted from the way they grew they will last much longer. O THE ELECTION In Maryland took place on Wednesday, the 3d fast.-- Three Whigs and three Democrats are elected to Congress, and the Whigs have twenty majority in the Legislature on joint-ballot. Our readers will find on the fourth page of this num ber a portion of an articro on the pronunciation of the latin language from the North American Review, with additions by one of the best linquists in the city; its publication will be continued from week to week until completed. For a Friend of the Family. SABBATH DAY REFLECTIONS. Sunday, October 7th, 1849. Change! Change!! Change!!! —ln the economy of Di vine Providence, man is the only animal endowed with a capacity for reciprocating the love and wisdom of his Creator. To him all things point as the great object in the creation and preservation of this terraqueous globe. All things of this sub lunary sphere—its sunshine and shade—making days and nights, seed time and harvest, summer and winter, oceans, mountains, valleys, rivers—all, all, is made for man; to him, then, must we look for a solution of this mighty problem, pre sented to the consideration of nil by the continual changes constantly going on, both within and around us. All animals, man excepted, are born into the science of their lives, and desire nothing more than to enjoy their instinctive pleasures. They fill their sphere of use, and pass away to be no more. But man, born into no science—that he may be unlimited in acquiring all sciences—that lie may feel deiight. in living, not from instinct, but from reason and reflection—born the most helpless of all, that he may in becoming *• lord of all,” see and acknowledge his dependence on his Maker and his fellow man for all that he is or ever can be, that he may see that he has important duties to perform, both to his God and his fel low-man ; in a word, born with a capacity for endless pro gress, in good or ill, to him this eternal law of change is of the highest moment to develope his true character, to teneh him, his duty and his destiny. It is nn old adage, that “ experience is the best school master.” Now, without change, experience would have no lessons to impart; and, in fact, all progress would be at an end. Should the eternal law of change bo suspended—if we were not turned into a pillar of salt liko Lott’s wife, we should be in no respect any better, either in form, thought, or feeling. It is much easier to understand the necessity of change than it is to disown the wisdom of those that do not suit us. Are we not always complaining? Toe hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too little, or too much. Some thing always wrong, when we make ourselves the standard of what is right, or what is- the same thing, when we only desire our own gratification. Almost every one professes to believo in a Divine Providence. Yet how many of us trust more to our own prude-ace. When we are deprived of the endearing objects, of our affections, can we say with Job, “ the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name oi the Lord.” If I am placed here iu this world of chang es ultimate a spiritual form, and thereby become a i|t inhabitant of the eternal world, then surely the* kind Providence placed me here knows best what is for my greatest good, all things that I cannot help, I ought to submit to with all hu mility and cheerfulness; while, at the same time, all that reason and revelation sanctions, as right for me to do, I should go about it manfully, and not satisfied until the end attained* NEIGHBOR.