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VOLUME 11.
li’lerteii
THB bridge op sighs.
EV TIIOS. HOOD.
it Drowned ! drowned !! ” —hamlet.
One more unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death !
Take her up tenderly,
Gift her with care ;
fashion’d so slenderly,
Young, and so fair !
Rook at her garments
Clinging like cerements,
Whilst the wave constantly
Drips from her clothing,
Take her up instantly,
Loving, not loathing.
Touch her not scornfully,
Think of her mournfully,
Gently and humanly;
Not of the stains of her,
All that remains of her
Now, is pure womanly.
Make no deep scrutiny
Into her mutiny,
Rash and undutiful;
Past all dishonor,
Death has left on her
Only the beautiful.
Still, for all slips of hers,
One of Eve’s family—
Wipe those poor lips of hers
Oozing so clammily.
Loop up her tresses
£-c iped from the comb.
Her fair auburn tresses ;
Whilst wonderment guesses
Whore was her home ?
Who was her father ?
Who was her mother ?
Ilad she a sister ?
Had she a brother?
Or was there a dearer one
Still, an 1 a nearer one
Yet, than all other ?
Alas ! for the rarity
Os Christian charity
Under the sun !
Oil! it was pitiful!
Near a whole city full,
Home she had none.
Sisterly, brotherly,
Fatherly, motherly,
Feelings had changed ;
Love, by harsh evidence,
fin-own from its eminence ;
Even God’s providence
Seeming estranged.
Where the lamps quiver
So fur in the river,
With many a light
From window and casement.
From garret to basement,
She stood, with amazement,
Houseless by night.
The bleak wind of March
Hade her tremble and shiver ;
But not the dark arch,
Or the black fhAving river ;
Had from life’s history.
Glad to Death's mystery,
Swift to be hurl’d—
Anywhere, anywhere
Out of the world !
In she plunged boldly,
No matter how coldly
file rough river ran,
Over the brink of it,
dicture it—think of it,
Dissolute Man !
Due n it, drink of it
fhen, if y OU can I
lake her up tenderly,
Lilt her with care ;
lashion’d so slenderly,
and so fair!
O'e her limbs frigidly
•'hiffeu too rigidly,
Decently— kindly,
° n oothand compose them ;
And her eyes, close them,
{ so bliudly !
D"eadfully staring
1 ’ rough muddy impurity,
when with the daring
Dast look of despairing
I ixed on futurity.
IVrishing gloomily,
Spurred by contumely,
Cold inhumanity,
Burning insanity,
Into her rest.—
Cross her hands humbly,
As if praying dumbly
Over her breast!
her weakness,
er **\\ behavior,
rj( l leaving with meekness,
sins to her Saviour !
flmtfii tii titrrntnrt, gtirmr nnii 51rt, tljt fm if Cniiprnnirt, ‘m SHfimfy, 3)taiiri|
(Original CnU.
THE BRIDAL PARTY.
BY MISS S. A. STUART.
“ A little nonsense now and then,
Is relished by the best of men.”
“Do ILirry request that obedient
wife of yours It) tell us that conclu
sion to her country frolic she com
menced. She is determined not to
treat us as company at all, hut just
let’s us amuse ourselves as we can.”
“ 1 declare Virge, Mr. Waltham
ought to see how prettily you can
affect a pout. ‘ Let's us amuse our
selves!’ ” repeated Mrs. Anderson,
mimicking her cousin, ‘f What did
you expect when you came to Home
wood ? You were surely not so un
conscienahle as to expect me to
amuse you, when these two pests
take up all mv time. Do pray Har
ry, senior, don’t begin to lengthen
your phiz to ‘ dignity mark,’ for 1
assure you, ‘ my heart is broke in
lircly,’ as Ann M’Carthy would say 7 ,
in my endeavors to keep you in
smiles.”
“ You make no allowance for the
hearty laughs, Carry,” said Anna,
“ for Harry has to utter more than
one ha ! ha! through the day when
you begin.”
“ All ! yes, Miss Anna, I am easi
ly flattered, as you may suppose. —
Why arc you so anxious to hear
about the narty. 1 am certain it
*
will he tiresome enough. If you
had been there I grant you would
have laughed ; but to hear it rela
ted, makes it altogether different.”
“Do Carry oblige us, for the :1s
have made me curious to hear it.—
I’ll undertake to keep Harry quiet.”
“ That I’ll defy you to do, for if
you give him everything within your
reach, he will set up a squawl for
the moon, as a plaything. Call
Bet, and lei her take him.”
“ The Bridal Party ■ Well! we
devoted one day to rest from the fa
tigues of the Wedding, before we
setoff, for Mr. Warren’s to dine and
dance. It was a horrid day 7 , and
Clicsnut Grove was seven long
miles off. The rain came pouring
down, as if the heavens were a sieve;
and so we packed up our finery,
and left the trunks io follow, in
Mr. Harrison’s carriage, which was
to bring up the rear of our cor luge.
1 rode in Mr. Warren’s close carri
age, and we started about eleven in
the morning, as we wished to arrive,
and make our toilettes, before the
company came. What a vain hope !
Weddings were scarce articles, in
that neighborhood ; and every one,
who had an invite, was there ; and
some whom Mr. Warren had not
honored, so far. I heard one man
tell him, during the evening.
“1 didn’t get your notice, Squire ;
hut I came without, thinking you’d
forgot it, and would be sorry arter
wards.”
“Tis an ill wind that blows no
body good.” Mr. Plopely was laid up
with a severe toothache, and could
not come in the rain. We passed
through a room pretty well filled
to reach the chamber up stairs, to
which they conducted us. Mr.
Harrison’s carriage was not in sight,
and as it contained our trunks, we
could only arrange pur hair, and
then sit down to await patiently its
advent.
In the meantime the door open
ing—’twas anew house, and the
locksmiths, had not been there—
gave admittance to one —then came
a group of three—then more stalked
into the room, where we sat wrap
ped in our shawls, till there was no
longer, any seats. Helen and I,
occupied one ottoman. Mrs. Mer
ton —Helen’s aunt —and two of the
bride’s maids, leaned against the
bed; and to cap the climax, not
SAVANNAH, GA, SATURDAY, MAY 13. tsW
one of the intruders were known to
our party. W hat a grotesque set
they looked, in their w edding finerv.
Not one of them, I will venture to
say, had even seen the outskirts of a
town, hut had undoubtedly vegeta
ted their whole lives, in the “piney
woods.”
One of them, a strapping, buxom
girl, with a magnificent head of
hair, wore, (April though it was) a
dark green moxislin —one of those
execrable robes., that were in vo^ue
O
some years since—trimmed with
Lisle edging; and the tremendous
knot of hay coloured hair, rested
on the nape of her neck ; — whilst
the comb which sustained it was
tastily festooned by some strings of
coral.
She was a real beauty that givl;
hut a slim one who sat on the edge
of the chair nearest the door, flour
ishing for dear life, a handkerchief
trimmed with cotton lacc, heat her,
as the saying goes “ all hollow .” If
the damsel with the green dress had
much hair, she of the handkerchief
had little, and that little was drawn
hack so tightly that it was fully evi
dent. she had made her prepara
tions before hand, to see all that was
to he seen by keeping her ey’es wide
open.
“ Who on earth are these people,
Helen ? ” I whispered.
“ Indeed, Carry’, you know as
much as myself. I really do not
think they have names, but sprang
out of the earth to grace* my wed
ding.”
O
“ Well, I shall consider it mv du
-7 J
tv, as first lady in waiting, to make
myself acquainted with their ti
tles.”
“ Do not, for mercy sake, Carry,
ask them a question, for I know I
shall laugh. Look at Aunt, she is
red in the face already, as she sees
them staring at you and I so sol
emnly, as if it were a funeral in
stead of a wedding.”
o
“ Nevertheless I shall amuse my
self, whilst waiting for the trunks.
You need not even smile, if y 7 ou
don’t wish.”
And composing mv features into
a becoming gravity I commenced
looking “cotton handkerchief ” di
rectly in the face.
“lam a stranger here, ma’am,
and as I am one of the waiters, and
wish to know the present company’,
will you , who I think must enjoy that
happiness, introduce them to me ? ‘’
“ Yes, miss,” said she, clearing
her throat, and drawing herself up
into the perpendicular,without even
winking, “ Mv name is Betsey, and
this here one,” laying her claw on
her neighbor, “is sister Nancy ;
and that one there is brother Mose’s
wife ; and that gal you sees sitting
yanderis my tother sister Silly.”
I acknowledged one and all ol
these introductions, and then ari
sing said, “ Allow me, Miss Bet
sey to introduce you and the com
pany generally’, to the bride, Airs.
Warren.”
Such a hohing ot heads !It seemed
as if they had all turned into Chi
nese mandarins, and I looked close
ly at “ green dress” thinking to see
her knot of hair tumble down. —
When this performance was over,
and I was enjoying the agonised state
into which I had thrown the bride,
Mrs. Merton and the rest. Miss
Betsey broke the silence :
“ Well ! I does say T ANARUS, for a city
lady, you is the sociablest I ever
seed. I’m ’mazin glad y r ou is come,
and will talk to us all, for we was
sitting like a jpassel of mumclmnces
afore. ’Ain’t you sister Nancy and
brother Mose’s wife ?”
“ Sartinly r . I’m agreeable and
likes to see others so. You comes
from far parts from this, don’t -you
Miss ? ” said the matron.
“ Ves, a good distance. Like
yourself I a] way’s endeavor to make
m vsell agreeable.”
Here our trunks arriving broke
into this exchange of civilities.’ It
was quite impossible for u$ to dress
before this gaping crowd ; So on
the strength of my 7 popularity’, 1
said, with ray most winning smile,
“ May we beg of you ladies to go
into the other chamber, whilst we
change our dresses. Then I shall
have to trouble you again Miss
Betsey 7 , to introduce me to some
more of the company, as you seem
to be well acquainted and to have
many relations here.”
“N es Miss, Daddy is here ; and
brother Mose—this woman’s hus
band—and lots more of my kin,
and I’ll make you acquainted with
them.”
They all walked into the next
room, and from the loud chattering
of their tongues, I was sure they
were discussing us well.
“ What are they talking about
Lucy 7 ? ” asked I, of Helen’s
maid, who had just come from
thence.
“ They 7 ses you is the most beau
tifulest young ladv, they ever seed
in their horn days ; and wonders if
that are y’our own curls or a wig
you has on. That hard-faced one
y 7 ou was talking to, say’s she ’dares
’tis your own hair, and that she
likes y r ou ’mazingly.”
We were soon dressed, and I
went to the head of the stairs to
see if I could see Mrs. or Mr. Har
rison. when I espied Charley - More
ton. The opportunity was too
good to be lost. It <vas the most
difficult thing in the world for him
to suppress a laugh, when anything
ridiculous struck him, and so, I
beckoned him up tome.
“What is it?” queried he, as he
reached my r resting place. “ Dont
you wish to he introduced to some
ladies, who scetn to he strangers. —
All young ladies too,” said 1 without
a smile.
“Certainly, if y r ou will trouble
yourself to introduce me. But I
thought I knew every one in the
neighborhood.
“ I do not think you know these
J
at all events, or I should have heard
y r ou speak of them :so I will pre
sent you now.”
I took his arm ; and I could see
him drawing his face down into his
company look, as I glanced slyly at
him, from the comer of my eye.
“ Miss Betsey 7 , allow me to intro
duce Mr. More ton who is desirous of
becoming acquainted with y r ou.
And Miss Nancy 7 Miss Sidy—
Brother Mose’s wife—Mr. More ton ”
Charley had to bow becomingly,
to all these ladies; and ’twas a
choice morsel, to watch him as he
struggled with the laugh, whilst I,
leaning on his arm, stood talking,
the better to enjoy his torture ; he
unable for his life to utter one word.
I released him, however from this
purgatory by going with him in
search of Mrs. Harrison, but in the
ante chamber, I encountered Ed
mund Browne, who stopped with me
a most lovely boquet of tea roses,
so master Charley had to speed on
alone to do my bidding, whilst 1 ac
nscepted Mr. Browne's arm, whilst
returning my thanks, and waiting
for the bride and her party.
Miss Betsey 7 and her troop, 1 sup
pose, missed me about this time, and
now came lumbering down stairs.
One after another did I introduce to
my elegant and fastidious beau;
whose affectation had to fly for the
once, as he bowed to them. An old
man with a pair of grey whiskers,
but hale looking withal, and who
really resembled a wolf, came on the
scene at this epoch.
“ Hi! gals, whar have you been ?
I’ve been sarching all round the
lot arteryou.
‘•Daddy,” said Miss Betsey,
“ This young lady wishes to become
acquainted with you.”
‘‘ How are you, inarm,” said he,
as he held out his hand, “ 1 hope I
sees you in prime health and sperils.
“Thank }ou, I am quite well.
Mr. Browne, Daddy,” said I, deter
mined he also should shake hands.
We'We re introduced as we entered,
to the company, and shortly after
wards dinner was announced. Os
course, there were many tables, and
I am happy to tell you I saw noth
ing more of my new friends, Miss
8., and her kin ; for 1 had begun to
tire ot them. I believe the old man
got angry at the fashion of standing
to cat, and therefore withdrew with
his rose-buds. Dancing commenced
at six o’clock, and continued till late
at night, and I need hardly tell you
I had acquiesced very readily to
Mr. Browne’s and Charley More ton’s
proposition to make the same en
gagement with them as before.
“Did you see or hear anything
about that queer man Griffin, at the
party,” said Anna.
“Oh yes! I must tell you some
thing about him. He was one who
certainly went in for the good tilings
at a feast. He also hovered about
on the outskirts of the dancers to
pass his opinion.
“ Who is that they keeps calling
‘Miss Marg’rat,’ ” said he of some
of his associates, “ I wish I could
see her. 1 aint heard tell of nothing
but Miss Marg’rat, amongst you fel
lows. Whar is she ?
“ You can’t see her from here, but
she is sitting in that corner where
you see Bill Martin* and the other
youngsters standing.
“ Well, I am for a saunter round
I bar to take a squint at her myself.”
So he accordingly stuck his hands
in his pockets lo make him look in
dependent and careless, and walked
very leisurely around where the
country belle was sitting with her
circle of beaux, eating sugar kisses,
and reading the “ sweet verses.” —
Peeping over the shoulder of one of
the young men, he exclaimed quite
loud enough to be heard by those
around:
“ Miss Marg’rat! fore my Gad !
’tis Peg Allen they’re been making
all this fuss about. Why bowdye,
Peg? I am glad to see }’ou here,
looking so spruce. Whar did you
get all these fine things, I never seed
O O J
you buy ’em.”
Certainly, Peg was as much elec
trified as we all were ; but the poor
creature was somewhat oxcusable,
as he had been “ imbibing ” all the
afternoon. He left soon after this.
We returned next morning to Mr.
Harrison’s accompanied by the trim
beaux for a visit for some days,
“ to ate the fragments,” as Miss
Ann laughingly declared. And this
is all I have to say of the Bridal
Party.
“Did any of the beaux come
home with you, Carry ?” said Yirge.
“ Ask Harry.”
“She was very anxious for that
Mr. Browne to do so, but mv coming
for her, made it unnecessary for him
to take that trouble.”
“ You had better say that your
black looks was enough to scare any
body out of their wits. I am cer
tain they all thought ’twas the old
gentleman himself, who was about to
fiy off with me.
“I will only say, that when the
servant announced, me a young lady
whom I do not think it necessary to
name, flew into the parlor, saying
Dear Harry* I am so glad you have
come P
“Pshaw! dont believe him girls.
I never said so, in my life, Look
out Virgy—ls not that Mr. Walt
ham’s buggy driving up the avenue ?
Do, Harry, go down and receive
him.”
The Home of Taste . —How easy
to be neat —to be clean. How easy
to arrange the rooms with the most
graceful propriety ! llow easy it
is to invest o.ur houses with the tru
est elegance ! Elegance resides
not whh the upholsterer or .the dra
per ; it is not put up with the hang
ings and curtains; it is not the mo
saics, the carpetings, the rosewood,
the mahogany, the candelabra, or
the marble ornaments ; it exists in
the spirit presiding over the cham
bers of the dwelling. Content
ment must always be most grace
ful : it sheds serenity over the
scene of its abode ; it transforms a
waste into a garden. The hon e
lightened by these intimations of a
nobler and brighter life, may be
wanting in much which the discon
tented desire ; hut toils inhabitants
it will be a palace, far outvying the
oriental in brilliancy and glory.
Married Life. —If WP consider
carefully the condition of a married
man, and that of an old bachelor,
we shall see how little reason the
latter has to congratulate himself
that he has never been “caught.”—
The married man has someone to
think of all his little comforts; to
sympathise alike in his adversity and
in his prosperity ; to soothe his iljr
humor when he D annoyed; to
amuse him when he is dull; and to
nur. e him when he is ill; but who
cares for an old bachelor ?- unless,
indeed, he should chance to he rich,
and then he is surrounded by cour
tiers, all eager to please him—but
with what hope ?—only that they
may benefit by his death,
A Nolle Boy . —A touching inci
dent occurred recently at a steam
boat sinking, in the Missouri river,
near St. Louis. Among the persons
who were swept overboard, were a
woman, and a boy about twelve
vcars'of age, A man on the steam
■j O
er seeing the hoy buffeting the w aves
just beyond the boat, threw him a
rope and called on him to take hold
of it. The little fellow replied :
“Never mind me —1 can swum —
save mamma.” They were both
rescued. Such a boy in now-a-days
of selfishness, should swell his pa
rents hearts with pride.
Led Astray. — A good story was
recently told at a Temperance meet
ing in New’ Hampshire. A stranger
came up to’ a Washingtonian with the
enquiry :
“Can you tell me where I ean get
any thing to drink ?”
“ Oh, yes,” said the other, “ follow
me.”
The man followed him through
two or three streets, till he began to
be discouraged.
“ How much farther shall I go?”
said he.
“ Only a few steps further,” said
the Wasqing'onian, “ there is the
pump”
The man turned about and moved
his boots,
Commit a crime, and it seems as
if a coat of snow fell on the ground,
such as reveals in the woods the
track of every partridge, and fox,
and squirrel, and mole. You can
not recall the spoken word—you
cannot wipe out the f< ot track, you
cannot draw up the ladder, so as to
leave no inlet or clew. Always
some damning circumstance trans
pires. The law’s and substances of
nature, water, snow, wind, gravita*
tion become penalties to the thief*
— R, TV. Emerson.
NUMBER n.