Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

pcDfltc& to literature, Science, an* CArt, tl)c Sous of &em?erame, ©tt jFeiloiuMpp, JltasourD, anH ©eneral Intelligence. VOLUME I s EL 1 S Iflf . THE REBUKE. BY CHARLES SWAIN. Oli! speak to mo no more—ho more— Nor cast your sighs away ; j'or what, you think is to adore, 1 feel 1s to betray. Your words —your vows—in vain would hide The truth which I divine, If wedding me would hurt your pride, Ttieu wooing me hurts mine. Oh ! no’er commit so great a fault. Nor wrong the vows you’ve made, For what you say is to exalt, 1 feel is to degrade ! To make me yours while life endures, 1 Must be at God’s own shrine ; If such a bride would hurt your pride, Thco such a love hurts mine. JOHN ALCOHOL MY JO. John Alcohol, my Joe John, When we were first acquaint I’d money in fny pockets, John, Which iknv I know there ain’t. I spent it all in treating, John, Because I loved you so, But mark me how you’ve treated me, John Alcohol. 1113* Joe. John Alcohol, my Joe John, We’ve been too long together, So you must take one road, Johu. And I will take the other; For we may tumble down John, If hand in hand we go, Aod I will have the bill to foot, John Alcohol, my Joe. 0a 1 §ika& tail. r~ For A Friend of the Family. LOST AND WON. BY MISS SUSAN A. STUART. CHAP. 111. ,l A letter from my sister Ellen, Mary,” said Mr. Eccleston, a week or so later, “ she writes in very iow spirits and desires, most anxiously, that one of the girls should pay her a visit this winter. Poor thing, she has lost her only’ child, and she wants someone for company. Shall \ irginia or Ada go ? ” : “Who, I papa?” said Virge, “lou must really excuse me. I cannot bear the idea of be in” mewed up in the country and in November too; let Ada go, she has nothing to keep her in the city.” “And what, I pray Miss Virginia, have you of so much importance that you cannot pay a visit to one who truly wants company ? ‘* Mr. Eccleston, 1 wish you would not speak to \irge in that way, she has a great deal to detain her in the city at this time ; probably her very settlement fur life depends on tins winter 4 for i have never seen so many men really worth a girl’s setting her cap for, collected at one time to gether. There’s that rich Elderbey, Pete you didn’t know perhaps, that A irge has made quite an impression on him, did you ? ” No, I never know anything of yours or \ ir ginia’s affairs, hut it seems to me that either you or her change too often in your plans to succeed. I suppose this one must indeed be worthy of se curing, for I have heard you talking of him for hvo or three weeks.” “If you did not spend so much of your time over your inusiv otoi papers and with them hor riddogs, you would learn that Eugene Elderbey tsconsidered by far the best match in the city.— He lives somewhere in the country, and Mrs. Lit tletons, where we first were introduced to him, told me his house was a real old castle for every thing grand and noble, aud that the silver and china alone were a small fortune ; moreover, he ! s so popular with the people, that it is supposed .c “ill he rqn for Congress the next year. Now ,iL * ,e worth catching ? ” but of what avail will be the old castle &c., for Virginia, to use her own words, hates being mewed up in the country.” ‘‘°h,then it would be entirely different papa ; besides, if 1 marry him I would always have plenty 0 co (opany when at home, and as he is so wealthy no doubt I should go ‘more into society, than I do now.” fhen he would be obliged to have the days, arul lhe nights too made longer, for every moment } awake now you devote to that same J lln g called society. But to return to Ellen’s el | i er ’ w hich of thegirls shall go Mary ? ” Ada, of course,” said she, ‘‘ for A irge has many beautiful dresses that would be quite . r()Vv n away in the country, and as Ada lias but f^ v new things made up\ it will be a save too, will make the last winter ones do. Well, rny daughter,” said Mr. Eccleston to , a ’ w ho just entered the breakfast room, being v 1 ler a fate riser, “ What sav you to a visit to ‘° u raunt Ellen for the winter? ” “I shall be delighted to go papa. Have you heard from her ? ” “Yes, here is the letter, read it, and you will see how much she needs society. I will make arrangements for you to go at once, at least in a clay or so.” Ada read the letter whilst at breakfast, and Virge and her mether went on with their conver sation without giving any more thought to the proposed visit.” “Mamma I would like that beautiful silk I saw at Bennet’s, and as you say Ada will not re quire so much could’nt you get it for me ? ” “ Oh, Nirgc you are really too extravagant. — lou have already three new ones this winter, and Ada, your father will insist on her celling some thing.” “ Psha ! mamma, I want that one. lam very sorry it was not purchased instead of that French Grey. Let Ada. take my blue and brown cash mere, and then you can get me that silk. Will you Ada ? It is is a3...g00d as new, and you can carry my guitar with you to aunt Ellen’s also, if you will.” “les, I don’t care, but mamma must have it altered at once forme as I am so anxious to go to dear aunty. She writes so sadly. You need not laugh Virge, I do love to go to her, she has a nice old house, plenty of books, and a gentle pony on which I can take many a delightful gallop.” “ Well I hope you may enjoy it. As for my self the balls, theatres, &c., are my prospect. — l should die outright in a week at Chesnut Grove. Aunt is to my taste so very mopy.” “ She is very like your father in disposition,” said Mrs. Eccleston, “but dear me, Virge ’tis after ten, you bad better change your double wrapper now, for probably someone will call ibis fine da\.” • Ada set out for the country with her father, and I arrived at her aunt’s after a journey of three days. It was, as she said, a nice old house, built in the antique style, with its deeply embayed 1 windows, and lofty ceilings. She was a widow of rather a. melancholy temperament, but an es timable lady and truly pious. Her style of living : too was very good, and though sne saw out mile company yet those whom one met there, were everv way worthy of being lemembered and es teemed. Tenderly attached to Ada, she was de lighted to have her, and as her brother also in- 1 tended spending a week before returning to the city, her spirits became- quite enlivened. We will leave them in the country, Ada to the quiet happiness which gave bloom and elasticity to her cheeks and spirits, to her books, her music, her pony, and return to A irge, and her conquests, her excitements, whether of balls, theatre’s and of dress. Constantly did Mr. Elderbey visit Miss Eccles ton, and such was the might y spell of her beauty, joined to her own and her mother’s tact, that no suspicion bad as yet arisen to make him doubt her perfectioiVas regarded temper and mind.— And the hopes too of Virge and her mother of their ultimate success were fast verging on to cer tainties, for everywhere did he accompany them, and already among their circle was his name joined to that of Virge Eccleston as engaged. One morning Elderbey had gone into the office of a friend to see him before calling on his lady love, as we* may now call her. He found his friend however, engaged with a client, so lie strolled to t lie door and stood there observing with quiet humor the groups around the pumps imme diately in front of the door, where the black beaux and belles were flirting and chatting. His own name caught his ear and he listened to a conversation between a negro woman with a tub on her bead, and another who was leaning against the porch under him, “ So your young mistress io to many tlmt rich Mr. Elderbey, I suppose you’ll have grand do in"3 at your house soon.” I believe so child. 1 hear the Madam talking about it, and that Miss Virge must have this and Miss Virge must have that. MissA irge, she says he is powerful rich, and she will have eveiything in big stvie. He'll get a pretty wife sure ’nut, but if lie took mv say, he’d a fell in love with Miss Addy, who’s a long sight better, for Miss Virge is just zactly like her mother as two peas, aud you knows Nancy, her temper is bad enough to kill a horse, “ She has abominable temper, for true, cme hollers out at me just like common folks, and I’ve heard your master sees times.” “True, child, just as true as the gospel scrip ture. He has a bad time of it, him and the dogs, and Miss Addy too, when she was home, Miss Virore blazes out every now and then on her sister, , if i\ gentleman only but looks arter her or ll her father gives her anything new. AY hen that same 1 Mr. Elderbey fust come to see Miss A irge,he only r just axed Miss Addy to play on the planner, w hen 1 lo and behold, the moment, he was gone, Miss Virge flares out at her sister with all sorts of SAVANNAH, GA.. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2D, 1840. ; abuse and cried and took on migbtly. Aou see, child, she was so mad that her sister could play the planner and she can’t, and then ihe Madam too tells more lies about her than I would do this minute, black as I is, and pets her up to every thing, and snubs her other child—the more shame for her. But good-bye child, I can’t stand talking any longer; my dinner aint on yet. Tell Sam when you sees him, to he sure to come round to onr house Sunday, i’ye got something to tell him.” It was wonderful, what uneasy feelings this negro gossip roused in the breact of EldovUoy. All the hints he had received from Linton seemed co rro be rated by it. He determined to ask Linton seriously; and stop in his attentions whilst there was yet time for it there was one thing on earth he had a dread of, it was a woman with a bad temper, and with no sense to manage it. He set out at once for Linton’s Hotel. His friend answered him with candor. “ I am glad, Elderbey, you are not too much in love to hear reason, as I was fearful you might he so I will tell you from my own experience, and from good authority what I know’ of ATrge Ec cleston. She is a beauty no doubt, and is pos sessed of sufficient mother wit , to hide her defi ciences, hut her education is only for the world, and she cannot for her life, support what you or 1 call a conversation. Like yourself when I first became acquainted with her, I was fascinated with her, and ascribed her monosyllibic replies to diffidence, and if 1 must confess it, vanity whis pered lo me that she acquiesced in all my remarks from a congeniality of sentiment, and because she liked me, and whatever I thought that thought she also—have not you felt this too Eklerby, for her manner and looks lead one ever to draw this inference. But I heard, about that lime, from two cousins of mine, good girls they are too, that she was a downright dunce as related to original ideas, for they were school mates, and that A'irge did not care for books or anything in that way, nit her sole ambition was to he pretty, to wear .i:r gloves and bonnet, and to sit out of the glare so as not lo injure her compleetion. And the worst'd! an, tney roia me sue naa a areaaiui tem- Der, in fact, completely spoiled by her weak minded worldly mother, and 1 soon found it to >e the ultimathule of her ambition to to he a belie, and finally to make a good marriage l hope3*ou are sufficiently heart hole to hear this without a pang, for ’tis true as holy writ.” “lam grieved, 1 must own,” returned Elder bey, “ for I w’as enchanted with her beauty. But it is better to find this out from any one else’s ex perience than from my own, and as I think “ dis cretion the better part of valor” I shall quit for my country residence for a season, or at least until I can look upon the beautiful Miss Eccles ton without any wish to call her mine. Will you make rny adieux Linton, and my excuses until mv return to the city, for wilhout any equivoca tion, my affairs, require my presence, and that speedily for my overseer is quite sick. “ AViih pleasure, and report if }*ou wish it.— But when do you leave ? ” “ This evening. Can’t you cotnc to me, at christmas? 1 have no inducement to offer except my company, as I don’t believe there is a young lady within ten miles. “I cannot promise now r , perhaps I may take von on surprise. AVhat! going now ! ” as El derbey arose to leave. “ Yes, I must say, “ good bye ” and God bless 7 ? O •’ r • 1 you, my good fellow', for awhile. AV rite me the news, and come if you can.” And that evening he left for the country. CHAP IV. “ Lo nil tlio elements of love are liere — The burning blush, the smile, the sigh, the tear.” Bailey's Feslus. “ I have had a visitor this morning Ada,” said Mrs. Hunter, on Ada’s return from her ride, which she took every fine day, “ I have not seen him,for three years. His mother and my hus band were somewhat connected, and he has al wuiys been very intimate here. I told him I had a young neice staying w ; ith me, and invited him to call over often. I did not call your name 1 recol lect, but mentioned you as my neice.” “ I have more curiosity perhaps than the visi tor aunt, for rny first question is, AY‘hat is his name ? ” “ Eugene Elderbey. He lives in that large house after you pass the cross-roads. Tis a beautiful place, and l would like you to see it much. By-the-bve be is single yet, and being an especial favorite 1 think I must speak a good woid for him to you.” “ I have seen him aunt Ellen at home, and I be lieve Virge lays claim to him. But why has he left the city so suddenly ? I thought he proposed spending the winter there.” “ I do not know dear, for I did not hear him even speak of the city at all ; but his conversa- lion, though very interesting, related only to his European tour, and c hats about old times. He loves music toa passion, and 1 told him my noire played, and he promised to come over often 10 hear you play.” “Humph! I think he had better buy himself a hand organ, arid grind his own tunes, that would save him a ride of five or six miles. Is’nt it that far?” “ Yes, but } T ou must not feel piqued at his say ing be would come for the music instead of ad miring you, for he does know what a chatty liilie hrwly ynn nrp 11 Ada ran off to change her riding habit, and to get her work. So the morning visitor was forgotten or untalked of at least. About a week later she was standing, looking from the window,when Mr.Elderbey arrived. He appeared embarrassed at first, but after some time it wore off; and Ada began to like him and his conversation extremely. So she played, and sung for him all bis favorites. On his rising to take leave, after a visit of three hours, Mrs. Hunter would not hear of his leaving before dinner, arid after that the torrent of rain that was falling fits-t and heavy obliged him to accept her hospitable invitation for the night. It turned out too, to he what is termed a “dreadful spell” of weather; and we will not say how much against his w ill or Ada’s inclination it was borne for three days, but they at least, appeared to submit themselves with Christian resignation to the elements. When at length he look leave, he promised Mrs. Hunter to bring over very soon some curiosities he had collected for her. Are you surprised to hear, reader, that every two or three days, Mrs. Hunter received a visit from her husband’s old friend, bringing something for her or Ada; or are you disposed to criticise over his quick transfer of affection when you be gan to surmise how the “ cal jumps.” Know you not many a heart is caught in a rebound? And Ada— “ Why did she love him ? Curious one be still! Is human love the growth of human will?” Suffice it to say, she did begin to feel an affection trr him, and was pleased when, at last, he came without a shadow of an excuse, hut rode over on Lara, everyday to accompany her on her excur sions for air and exercise. And certainly air and exercise was very bene ficial to Ada’s health ; for one morning or rather noon, Mrs. Hunter unobservant, as she generally was of such things, found that Ada’s cheeks were most beautifully crimsoned, and her eye and lip sparkling with health and happiness, after her return, which she of course ascribed to the ride* And yet after that the old lady began to think it was probably too much for her niece’s nerves, for she found her unaccountably absent, and when reminded, would blush, and look so diffident and timid as made even Mr.Elderby proffer a thousand little services in the goodness of his heart, as the old lady thought, to set the blushing girl at her ease. Her view of the case, however, altered, when Ada told her at night, that she had promised Eu gene Elderby to become his wife with her parents’ consent. chap. v. “ The best laid plans of men and mice Gang oft nglice.” “Rather a surprise for you, Virginia and your mother,” said Mr. Eceleston, as he entered the same drawing room, and where Virge watery busy with her croghet work, and her mother with a novel. “ Yes, l think even you will acknowedge ’tis a great surprise, and wish you had gone into the country instead of Ada, when you hear my news.” “No I think not,” said Virge, “ 1 sup pose Aunt Ellen has made her will, being tnojjed to death in the country, and left all to Ada.” “ No, you are out there,” said her father, “ ’Tis not a question of death at all hut of mar riage. You will have to guess again.” By this time the novel was closed, and the purse hung suspended from the fair -fingers, as •Y T irge repeated : “ Marriage ! why surely aunt Ellen is not lo he married ? ” “ No,” said he quietly, “she has tried it once. As I am afraid you will not be able to guess a tail, I must tell you it is Ada’s self.” “ Ada ! ” echoed Mrs. Eceleston and Virge in tones of strong surprise, “ Why for mercy’s sake Mr. Eceleston what clown has the child picked up ? ” “ Eugene Elderbey,” said he, “is what is signed to the letter, which appears tome, if a let ter can speak a character, to be the name of a generous, intelligent and noble man ; one who certainly seems to love my little Ada as much as 1 can wish.” “ Eugene Elderbey ! ” almost screamed his wife, “ whv he loves Virge and will be back as soon as his business is finished, 1 know that you are telling this to annoy us.” & NUMBER 39.