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with trulli and sympathy into the beauty of By
ron’s lines :
•• Oh that the desert were my dwelling place
With one fair spirit for my minister,
That I might a!I forget the human race,
And hating no one, love but only her.
Ye elements, in whose enlivening stir
I feel myself ennobled, can you not
Accord me such a being ?
Yes, I felt all this,” continued he, taking mv
hand and speaking yet lower, “ but I asked not
the question of the elements norof my own heart,
for ’twere needless. I have found such a being,
and you are the fair spirit I would have to minister
to me through life.”
I could hardly repress the low cry of joy which
sprang from my heart to my lips ; yet l did so,
and sat apparently calm at his side, whilst he
continued siill more passionately” :
“Yes, you dearest Florence are the fair spirit
whom I would adore. Tell me, can you, will you
he mine, and though the desert be not our dwell
ing place, make with your love and smiles a par
adise of my earthly habitation. Say Florence,
dear one, will you be my wife ‘? ”
1 did not answer, I could not answer, but I
leaned my face against his shoulder, and as his
arm encircled me, he bent overme and whispered
my answer; and we left that one favorite walk
engaged ; wiih one hope, one love, one joy.—
Everything was now forgotten but the certainty
of his loving me, and my having promised to be
come his. When he is gone, (and sadly I write
it he leaves soon) I will form some plan to
make sufficient money in order that I may not be
dependant on any one for my out-fit, and thus we
will marry next summer. Now I can only think
of my happiness.
Tuesday, October, A fortnight has dragged on
since his departure, and I have wondered to my
self that I could have ever been so contented here
without him. Jn one of the literary 7 papers which
my uncle takes, is a notice of premiums to be
awarded to successful competitors. *1 have de
termined to become one. 1 have often written,
and I may succeed. 1 have a good plan too for a
story founded on an incident in the life of my
grand father. So adieu my old friend for a while
for I must bend all my energies on my Prize
Story, as I will it to be ; and in doing that, and an
swering Hugh’s letters, the time at my disposal
will be entirely taken up. The prizes will be
awarded in a month after the reception of the ar
ticles sent. lam beginning to think Mrs. Dudley
and Clare suspect my engagement to Hugh.
December 28 th, Joy ! joy ! and now for the do.
tails, to put in words of what my joy consists. —
My uncle opened the mail bag, as usual, this
morning, whilst we were at breakfast. There
were two gentlemen present beside our family
circle, one of them 1 believe Mrs. Dudley and
Clare (l always couple them for they go together
in their likes, &c.,) imagine I am ‘ setting my cap ’
for, a wealthy gentleman from a neighboring city,
and who does me the favor of being exceedingly
polite and attentive. Well revenous a nor, moutons
my uncle laid two letters to my share of the pre
cious bag, remarking as he did so “ one is from
Philadelphia, the other from your correspondent
south.”
“ Why Miss Florence,” said Mrs. Dudley, “ is
not this affair with my nephew brought to a con
clusion yet ? I will begin to think their is some
thing serious in it; though I thought from your
very open manner of encouraging his attention it
was solely for amusement. Do inform me pray,
as his relation, if there is anything in reality
in it.
How the hot blood rushed to my temples, and I
convulsively grasped the letters as I took them to
place in my pocket. Yet my pride came to my
assistance, and turning to her I said smilingly
and scoffingly, to hurt her feelings, Your nephew!
Ah! yes, your first supposition is correct, my flirt
ation with him would only do for the country of
course! ”
The old creature seemed dreadfully nettled by
iny answer, and I am only sorry that I made it.
It seems like treason against my love to utter such
a thing about him, even to pique her. My letters
I opened when 1 entered my own chamber, which
I hastened to do. The first I opened was from
Hugh Dudley, breathing devoted love, and beg
ging me to think better of his proposition, and let
him come at once to claim me as his own. The
other was from the Editor of the , and con
tained a check for sl*so. My story had obtained
the prize !! Now I can think as dear Hugh begs
me. 1 will write him to-morrow, and tell him of
my success, and that I will consider about his pe
tition. I must not grant it at once, lam ashamed
to let him see how much l love him.
February, Oh God! how utterly miserable am
I. And -you, old friend, that has been the record
of ™yj°yi m y Short dream of happiness, be also
the page upon which I chronicle my grief,
my deep despair. I am calmer now, 1 did
think I should have crazed under the blow, but
God has borne me up. 1 had been expecting an
answer to my last letter to Hugh : oh ! how anxi
ously, for ’twas over the usual time, when one day
my uncle sent for me, —“Florence,” he said, as I
entered, “I have a package for you, sent under
cover to me. lam afraid, from the letter which
accompanies it, that it will prove a severe trial for
you, but you must bear it as well as you can. I
also consider that you brought it on yourself.
Hugh Dudley has written me that you and him
self were engaged, solemnly bound to each other
towed the ensuing summer: and that from your
own speech, made in public in the presence of a
friend of his, from whom he received information,
he now releases you from chains, that must be gal
ling from so unprovoked, so cruel a speech.’
1 felt like throwing myself at my uncle’s feet,
and begging him to plead forme, with Hugh, in
my great misery : but at this moment I looked up
and saw standing at the door, Mrs. Dudley, who
was peering on me with such a smile ot malicious
triumph, that crushing back my real feeling with
my all conquering pride, I said lightly, though it
seemed my heart was weeping blood the win e .
“Do not trouble yourself, uncle, about my not. oe
ing able to bear it. Inform Col. Dudley, for it is
not necessary for tne to write, that I accept any
release with thanks.” How I left the room) or
reached my own, I know not. I have a dim re
collection of laughing as I received the package,
and of hearing as an echo from Mrs Dudlev, of
“ heartless flirt.” I locked myself in and opened
the bundle. My o*vn letters dropped out, undone
from hwi ; 1 put it here, that with the record of
my wilful error, its punishment may also be seen.
Miss De Lacy,
1 return you your letters, and your vows of
love; when the substance is not possessed, liow
worthless the shadow. 1 scorn myself for having
loved one who could so wantonly trifle with the
heart which so fondly trusted. May you be hap
py, and be more careful of the next heart you
may witch to love you. At least, never say of
him, in the presence of his friends—“He will do
well enough for a country flirtation.” With the
hope that you may be happy, I remain
Hugh Dudley.
I determined he should not know that his break
ing our engagement troubled me, even though 1
died : because, he believed so quickly, so readily,
an assertion against me: did not ask me first,
“ was it so ? ” but acted on the information. Had
he asked me, then would I have thrown myself
on his love for forgiveness. 1 bathed mv eves
till no traces of tears were visible, and descend
ed into the drawing room. I played, sang, I was
in my wildest spirits. I kept up ibis face for
weeks, till 1 thought my mind must give way,
when receiving a letter from an old lady, cousin
of rnv mother’s, begging me to come and reside
with her. I accepted at once, determined to hide
forever from the of those whose triumph
was built on the ruins of my happiness. Oh !
II ugh, could you have known how deeply I have
repented of that speech, wrung from my wound
ed pride, even yon would have forviven me, and
loved me still; but you never, never loved me as
I have loved you. But’tis all past, mv dream of
bliss is ended ; and I now walk sadly my allotted
time on earth, a sorrower, a sojourner in a vale of
tears.
Here ended that journal, and Cora Norton sntat
first meditating, with her head still leaning on her
arm. Turning at last toiler aunt who was do
zing across the room, she asked,
“ What has become of Col. Dudley aunt Mary ?”
“Ech! What! exclaimed the old lady, and
then being roused, she took her.knitting fiiom the
floor, which had slipped from her lap, and re
ceived her specs, from Cora who repeated her in
quiry :
“He is now,” said aunt Mary, gaping and rub
bing her eyes, the husband of Clare Alton, and
lives in his far distant home. ’Tis said that the
match was made up by his aunt, and that Clare
makes an excellent housekeeper, and raises more
chickens and turkies than any lady in the neigh
borhood. She has even finished a bed quilt with
ten thousand patches, in fact, she’s a model house
wife ; she and her husband get along very politely,
and as I have heard say
“ They live together as most people do,
Suffering each other’s foibles, by accord
And not. exactly either one or two.”
And this is the end. And now Cora, love, ’tis
time for bed. Need 1 * point a moral’ to the jour
nal you have read ? Ah, no, well when that lit
tle, rattling tongue of yours seems disposed to
laugh, and aaj Hippant tiling* about VOUf lovet’S,
think of my girl-friend Florence, and proftH by
her dear bought experience. Come love, let us to
bed.”
Colonel’s island, Nov. 1549.
Baths In India.—A peculiar kind of bath is
used in the East Indies. An attendant stretches
the bather upon a table, pours over him warm
water, and begins afterwards, with admirable
skill to press and -to bend his whole body. All
the limbs are extended, and the joints made to
crack. Alter lie has done with one side he goes
on with the other —now kneels upon the bather—
now takes hold of his shoulders —now applies gen
tle blows to the fleshy and muscular parts. After
this he takes a cloth of hair and rubs the whole
body—removes the hard skin from the feet with
pumice stone, anoints the bather with soap and
perfumes, and finishes bv shaving and cutting
his hair. This treatment lasts about three quar
ters of an hour, and produces the greatest refresh
ment. An agreeable feeling pervades the whole
body, and ends with a sweet slumber of several
hours.— Mason .
The following verdict was given by an eastern
coroner’s jury : “ We firmly believe that the de
ceased came to his death by falling from the top
of the mainmast to the bulwarks—fell overboard
and was drowned; washed ashore and frozen to
death—and then carried to the watchouse and
eaten by the rats.”
AN OLD KING OF FRANCE .
Th e description of the life of King Clotaire,
by M. A. Thierry, may be taken as a type ot the
lives of French Kings in the sixth century: Clo
taire generally resided at his villa at Braine, near
Soissons. This was a large building, surrounded
with Roman porticos. Around the aparments of
Clotaire, were the rooms of the others ol his
household, and of his chief officers of state.
In a secret apartment of the \ ilia, where a number
of cottages, inhabited by numerous families, who
exercised various trades; among which were
goldsmiths, armorers, weavers, curriers, embroi
derers in silk and in gold, &c. Farms, stables,
sheepfolds and barns, completed the royal vil
lage. At- this Villa Clotaire transacted a great
portion of his state business, and likewise gave
large festivals, at which wild boars, deer, &c.,
were served at table whole ; while casks with the
heads knocked out, occupied the four corners of
the banqueting hall. The king amused himself
and his officers in exercises of arms, in hunting,
fishing, &c. Clotaire, according to the custom of
his contemporary Kings, had many wives, but
only one had the title of Queen. Among his
wives was a young female of low birth, named
Ingande. One day she said to him, “You, my
master have raised me to the high position I now
occupy ; complete your kindness, and deign to
procure for my sister a brave and rich husband,
so that I may not feel humiliated on account of her
humble condition.” Her sister named Aregande,
was a workwoman on one of the roval domains.
Clotaire went to her, and finding her very beau
tiful married her, “ 1 have sought a wise and rich
husband for your sister, and I have not been able
to find a better than myself.” Ingande humbly
replied, “My master, it is right for 3 T ou to do
what you deem best but I know that I shall not
have the misfortune to lose your favor.” This
trait shows the miserable condition of women
amorm the barbarous Franks.
O
Antiquity of Umbrellas —Umbrellas and para
sols, be it remefnbered, are as old as the sun and
rain. Though of modern introduction in this
countrv, they were well known in the olden time.
In the East the umbrella has been used from time
immemorial, though chiefly by the great, and
proud is the Oriental despot who can style himself
“ Brolheyif the Sun and Moon, and Lord of the
Umbrella*” Assyrian Monarchs stood beneath its
shade whilst receiving homage from their van
quished foes and Lyeian Princess sat under such
shelter while directing the siege of a hostile city, as
the reliefs recently brought from the ruins of Nine
vah, and the coasts of Lycia, and now in the Brit
ish ministry satisfactorily attest. The proudest
trophy of the Galic wars in Africa was the umbrel
la of Abd-el Kader, fill he himself shared its fate,
though lie was soon avenged bv bis victor being
compelled to abandon his in a far more ignoble
manner. Umbrellas preserved the complexion ot’
the “ fair cheeked ” Helen, and sheltered many a
fair one of Greece and Rome from Phoebus’ gaze,
as we learn from ancient vases, bas-reliefs and
paintings. They were borne by the men as well
as the maids of Athens, in the days ot Pericles.—
In a tomb atChiusi we have proof that they were
used in Eturia also. Yet though an umbrella often
shaded the rich cheek of Cleopatra, and softened
the glow of Aspasia’s charms —In London, in the
centre of modern civilization, not a century since,
Jonas Hanway was ridiculed for carrying one
through the streets.
Thr Musquitoes ix California.— l read a
great deal in the papers about the musquitoes on
the San Juan, and the king of the Musquitoes, and
how John Bull is trying to turn these musquitoes
against us. We know of no place where they
employ them to any advantage save in California,
and that happened in this wise : A rogue had sto
len a bag of gold from a digger on the San Joa
quin, and hid it. Nothing could induce him to
tell where he had secreted the treasure. We sen
tenced him to one hundred lashes and then offered
to let him off with thirty, provided he would tell
what he had done with die gold, but lie refused.
We inflicted the thirty lashes, and he was still as
stubborn as a mule. We then stripped him na
ked and tied him to a tree. The musquitoes went
at him, and in less than three hours he was cov
ered with blood, and in the most excruciating tor
ment cried out, “Untie me, untie me, and I will
tell ! ” “ Tell first,” was the reply. So he told
us where the gold was. Some of us with whisps,
kept off the musquitoes, while others went as di
rected by the culprit and recovered the gold. We J,
then untied him, washed him all over with cold
water, and put on his clothes. His only remark
was, “If h—ll is worse than that, I should like to ,
know it.” Now, if you can make as much out of ,
yuur mosquilons on the San Juan, then go ahead.
North American .
The Albany boat had just arrived, and the lan
ding was as usual crowded with cabmen, porters,
loafers, &c. When the passengers commenced
landing a colroed porter stepped to a country
looking chap, sa}riug—
“Carry your baggage sir?”
“ No 1 rather guess not,” was the reply.
“ Shan’t I carry your baggage ?”
The porter looked at him for a minute, and
very cooly stooped down and taking hold of his
toot, smd with an air of astonishment—
Why, masse, that s one ot your feet ain’t it?
Hang me if I didn t think it was a leather trunk !”
mmmmmwm a gami.
THE MECHANIC’S SONG.
EY BFN'J. FRANKLIN.
All jovial Mechanics come join in my song,
And iet the brisk chorus go bounding along;
Though some may be poor, and some rich there may be,
Yet all are contented, and happy, and free.
Ye Tailors! of ancient and noble renown,
Who clothe all the people in country and town.
Remember that Adam, your father and head,
Though the lord of the world was a Tailor by trade.
Ye Masons! who work in stone, mortar and bricks,
And lay the foundation, deep, solid and thick.
Though hard be your labor, yet lasting your fame,
Both Egypt and China your wonders proclaim.
Ye Smiths! who forge tools for all trades here below,
You’ve nothing to fear while you strike and you blow,
All things you may conquer, so hajTpy your lot,
As you're careful to strike while your iron is hot .
Ye Cabinet Makers! brave workers in wood,
As you work for the ladies j our work must be good,
And Joiners and Carpenters, far off and near,
Stick close to your trades, and you’ve nothing to fear.
Ye Hatters! who oft with hands not very fair,
Fix Hals on the blocks for blockheads to wear,
Though charily covers a sin now and then,
You cover the heads and the sins of all men.
Ye Carders, and Weavers, and Spinners attend,
And take the advice of “ Poor Richard ” your friend,
Stick close to your looms, and your wheel, and your card.
And you never need fear of the times being hard.
Ye Printers who give us our learning and news.
And impartially print for Turks, Christians and Jews,
Let your favorite toast ever sound in the streets,
“ The freedom of Press and a volume in sheets.”
Ye Coopers who rattle with driver and adz,
And lecture each day upon hoops and on heads,
The famous old ballad of “ love in a tub,”
Y r ou may sing to the tune of “rub a dub dub.”
Ye Shipbuilders, Riggers and Makers of sails,-
Already the fame of your labor prevails,
And still you shall see o'er the proud swelling tide,
The ships of our nation triumphantly ride.
Each tradesman turn out with lfs toolin his hand,
To cherish the arts and keep peace through the land,
Each Prentice and Journeyman join in my song,
And let the brisk chorus go bounding along,
AFIUEND OF Tll E FAMILY.
SAVANNAH, THURSDAY. DKC. 6. 1840.
TO CORRESPONDENTS.
The Wife's Reward is accepted, and many thanks to the
fair writer,
E. G. N. will receive an an ever in due course of mail.
co N CERT.
A Grand Sacred Concert will be given at the Catholic
Church, this Evening, under the direction of Mr. Guilinette,
assisted by a large number of Amateurs. The pieces selected
for the occasion is from the most sublime music written.
BALLOON ASCENSION.
Mon. Victor Verdelle proposes giving a Balloon Ascension
on Monday afternoon, at 4 o’clock from the lot corner of Lib
erty and Montgomery streets, known as Sturdevant’s carpen
ter shop.
THE CHEROKEE
Arrived on Saturday evening from New York, bringing 8"*
cabin and 35 steerage passengers. This we understand is her
last trip to this port, as she has been sold to the California
Line for $200,000. We, in common with the community
generally, regret her loss, but we do not blame her owners for
making a good bargain for their property when the occasionjot
fered. The true policy of our citizens is to own the new
line entire, or at least a sufficient quantity of the stock to con
trol its operations.
A FLOATING DOCK.
Thousands of dollars has been lost to the city of Savannah
for the want of a floating dock, and thousands more would have
been made by her mechanics in the past three years it it had
been in operation. Its cost will be but SIO,OOO, and it will
yield from 33 to 100 per cent proffit, so says a competent
mechanic of our city who has been urging its construction for
the past twelve months, besides the employment it will give
to Ship Carpenters, Jolliers, Blacksmiths and Machinists and
the money thus diffused in the community.
The Dijfusian of Odors. —Odors are capable of a ver ?
wide diffusion A single grain of musk has been know to
perfume a large room for the space of twenty years. Consider
how often during that time the air of the apartment must
have been renewed, and have become charged with fresh oder.
At the lowest computation the musk had been subdivided into
320 quadrillions erf particles, each of them capable of affec
ting the olfactory organs. The vast diffusion of odorous effio’
via may be conceived from the fact that a lump of assafcediW*
exposed to the open air, lost only a grain in seven weeks. Id
since dogs hunt by scent alone, the effluvia emitted from the
several species of animals and from different individuals of
the same race, must be essentially distinct. The vapor of p*’
tilence conveys itc poison in a still more subtle and attenuated
form. The seeds of contagion are known to lurk for years i°
various absorbent substances, which scatter death on expose
to the air.
Camomile. —A few roots of this plant should have a plac f:
every garden. Not only are its medical qualities valuable,
its presence among vegetables is supposed to be an J^ l?
protection against many diseases to which they are subject-"”
It should be transplanted into warm and rich soil, early
spring, and bo assisted and uring its early development with I
pious manuring and frequent pressure. When plants
the season exhibit symptoms of decay or general debility’
planting of a small root of camomile in their vicinage )s |
quently the most speedy and efficacious remedy that ca
applied. The odor or aroma diffused by this pl nt 19
known to be highly repellent to many kinds of alig® r ° u
sects among those species of plants and vegetables * u^e^ lUO jt
such enemies, will protect them more effectually jarl
any other agent known, and at comparatively small cs\
