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.
