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About A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1??? | View Entire Issue (June 1, 1850)
Hi Rim er tie fahhx VOLUME 11. (Driginnl |3netrtj. A Voice from California, in 1849. BY MRS R. H. RILEY. Gold, pure red gold in shinings heaps, Gleams in these darken’d mines, where so e’re I turn my eyes, The yellow tempter shines. A thousand sicken’d wretches pine, In hunger b}’ those heaps, While some not yet quite sickened down. The sufferer’s labor reaps. A fearful scourge, a fatal plague, Is stalking through the land, Which, like a ruthless Victor slays, Our brave, but feeble band. Through watches of the fearful night. Prayers, groans and cries are heard, While hungry wolves impatient wail, As screani3 the carrion bird. No shelter o’er our burning heads. But ’nenth the scorching sky, We stretch our weary limbs at night, And almost pray to die. No wife, no child, no mother dear, Are near to hear our groans, Nor can they come in future years, To hide our bleaching bones. No God but gold is worship*d here No Sabbath kept no bible read, No prayers around the sick man’s couch Nor funeral service o’er the dead ! Some rotted hero in festering heap?, Uncoffined, and unknelled. O’er whose foul bodies in mid-day The beast their banquets held. Then come not here ! gold cannot pay You for your friends and home, Stay, stay, nor from such blessings turn In this strange land to ro un . E'en as a child whose clear eye tracks The sunset ’cross the sea. Believing that its golden trait Will next eve brighter be. So I from my dear home did view Across the flashing brine, A bright, but ah delusive trace I thought would always shine. But were I back, no golden dreams Could their delusions fling, For like a storm beat eagle, 1 At home would fold my wing. Alas! alas! like some proud oak, Scathed in its forest strength, I'm plighted in the morn ot life, And here must die at length. Glynn County , Ga. irlrrtrit Cult. THE PHILADELPHIA DUN. One day* no matter when, a stran ger was seen riding slowly through the streets of a flourishing town in Tennessee. He was a well dressed, good looking young man, mounted upon what in this country would be called “ the best kind of a nag.” His appearance altogether, was re spectable enough ; it was even, as respects exteriors, a touch above “'hat is common ; and he would have passed along unnoticed, had it not been for one thing, which ex cited universal attention. Although the streets were crowded with peo ple, and the fronts of the stores adorned with fine goods and such fancy articles as usually attract the e }’e —the stranger’s gaze was fixed vacancy ; he turned his head nei ther to the right nor to the left; he tooved not lip nor eye-lid, but rode forward, as if apparently uncon scious, as well of his own existence, of the presence of his fellow Matures. It was court week, and an unu sUal concourse of people was col lected. Here was the judge with a long train of lawyers. The candi dates for office were here distribu ting smiles and kindness, and prac ticing all those popular arts, which are so well understood in every re publican country. Here was the former, clad in his neatest home- and mounted on his best horse. the hunter with his rifle. ere ) in short, were the people ; col kcted, some for pleasure and some f° r business, exhibiting that of feeling which crowds al- Va ys produce, with a good humor is only found in countries Sruntrii tn literature, Irienre unit Slrt, ttje Inns us Cnnprrunrr, <Dhii Hnsnnrt] anil (£enernl Sntelligenre. where all are free and equal. The public square exhibited a scene which would have been amusing to one unaccustomed io such displays of character. At one spot were two neighbors driving a bargain.— Unlike the people of other coun tries, who transact such business in private, they were surrounded by a host of people, who occasionally threw in their comments. A stran ger, judging from the sly jokes, the loud bantering, and the vociferous laughter which passed round the circle, would not have supposed that any serious business was in hand ; a resident only would infer that before this little circle parts, a horse would be swapped, a crop of tobacco sold, or a tract of land con veyed. Not far ofF was a set of politicians settling the affairs of the nation. But the most amusing in dividuals were some two or three who were cavorting . Now, if any lady or gentleman, is so ignorant of the American language as not to know what cavorting is and if Web ster’s celebrated quarto does not furnish the definition, it is necessa ry that we explain, that it expresses the conduct of an individual who fancies himself the smartest and best man in the world. On the present occasion a fellow might he seen, dressed in a hunting shirt with a rifle on his shoulder, moun ted, half tipsy, upon a spirited horse, and dashing through the crowd. Now he would force his spurs into his horse’s sides, and put him at full or rein him up until he reared on his hinder feet; and now he would command him to stop, and the obedient animal would stand and tremble. All the time he was ranting and roaring in praise of himself, his horse, and the Uni ted States of America. He boasted that he was horn in the woods ; and that he could tote a steamboat and outrun a streak of lightning ; that his wife was as handsome as a pet fawn, and his children real roarer. He bestowed similar encomiums on his horse; and finally avowed him self to he a friend to the Lnited Slates of America —and then he commenced again and went over the same round, flourishing his rifle all the time, and exerting his lungs to the utmost. Although he often declared that he could whip any man in the world, except Col. C. that he fit under at New Orleans, nobody accepted the challenge, or took offence; the whole being con sidered as a matter of course, and as the natural effect of stimulating potations upon an illiterate man ot ardent temperament, who ; when du ly sober, was an honest, quiet and inoffensive citizen. While the people were amused at the vagaries of this wild hunter, or engaged in conversation, the sun o o had gone down, and it was nearly dusk when the moving automa ton described in the commence ment of this story, rode solemnly into town. It is customary in this country for persons who meet, al though unacquainted, to salute each other, and this courtesy is especial ly practiced towards strangers; and although the new comer on this occasion, would not have been expected to address each individu al in a crowded street, yet, when those who were nearest nodded or spoke as they civilly opened the way, they were surprised to see the horseman’s gaze fixed on vacancy, and his body remaining as erect as if tied to a stake. “ That man’s asleep,” said one. “He’s as blind as a bat,” said another. “I reckon he’s sort o’dead,” ex claimed a third. SAVANNAH, GA.. SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1850. “He rides an elegant nag,” re- fourth ; and all were sur prised that a man, who was appa rently so good a judge of a horse, had not wit enough to see where he was going, or to know who were around him. In the mean while our traveller moved proudly on, until he reached the best inn ; a fine brick building, presenting every indication of neat ness, comfort, and even luxury.— Ashe rode up, two well fed, ath letic negroes, with visages like pol ished ebony, and teeth as white as snow, rushed forth, and while one seized his bridle the other held his stirrup as he dismounted. Still the automaton relaxed not a muscle; hut drawing up his body, moved majestically towards the house.— At the door he was met by the landlord, a portly well dressed man, with a fine open countenance, who had been honored by his fellow cit izens with several civil appoint ments, and had even commanded some of them in the field, in times of peril. He touched his hat as he welcomed the stranger, and invited him into his house with an air of dignity and hospitality. A servant took his surtout, and several gen tlemen who were seated round the fire, pushed hack their chairs to make room for the stranger. But all these tilings moved not the au tomaton ; the glazed eye and com pressed lip were still fixed, and the chin remained in the cushion of an immense cravat. After a momen tary pause the gentlemen in the room resumed their conversation, the landlord applied himself to the business of his house, and the si lent traveller was consigned to the oblivion which he seemed to covet; and excited no more attention ex cept from an honest backwoods man, who strolled in to take a peep, and after gazing at him for a quarter of an hour, suddenly clapped his hands, and exclaimed, “ it moves, Bill, if it ain’t alive, I’ll agree to go afoot as long as 1 live ! ” By this time candles were lighted, and the silent gentleman seemed to grow weary of silence. lie now rose and strutted across the apart ment, with a very important stride. He was a young man of about two and twenty; of ordinary height, and less than ordinary thickness.— His person seemed to he compressed with corsets, and his head was sup ported h} T the ears upon a semicircle of stiffened linen, which occupied the place of shirt collar; and all his habiliments announced him to the eyes of the curious, as a genuine specimen of that singular genus , the dandy. After taking several turns through the apartment, he drew forth his gold repeater, and open ing his mouth for the first time, ex claimed in a peremptory tone,“land lord ! I want supper!” “You shall have it, sir,” said the landlord, with a bow, and winking at the same time at the other guests, “ we had supped when you arrived hut will not detain you many min utes.” In a short time supper was an nounced and the stranger was shown into a back room, handsomely fur nished, where a neat, elderty mat ron presided at the head of a table, spread with tea, coffee, bread, cakes, beef, pork, bacon, venison, fowls and all that profusion of eatables, with which western ladies delight to entertain theirguests. Near her sat a young lady, modestly attired, in the bloom of youth and beauty,— whose easy manners and engaging appearance might have warmed any heart not callous to the charms of native elegance. Now indeed, our dandy opened both mouth and eye*? to some purpose. Scarcely deign ing to return the salutations of his hostess, he commencdd the work of havoc—fish, flesh and fowl vanished from before him ; his eves roved trom dish to dish, and then wan dered off’ to the young lady ; now he gazed at a broiled chicken, and at the fair niece of the landlord— but which he liked best, I am una ble to say ; the chicken seemed to gooff very well, but on the subject of the damsel, he never opened his mouth. Returning again to the sitting apartment, he found the same set of gentlemen whom lie had left there, still engaged in conversation. They were the judge, the lawyers, and other intelligent men of the coun try, who were not a little amused at the airs of our dandy* Again they opened their .circle to receive him, hut his ey r es, his mouth, and his heart, if he had one, were closed against everything hut the contem plation of his own important self. After drawing his boots, picking his teeth, and puffing a cigar, he again opened his mouth, with, “Landlord ! 1 want to go to bed !” “ Whenever you please sir.” “I want a room to myself sir.” “ I do not know how that will be,” replied the landlord, “ my house is full, and I shall be compelled to put 3’ou in the room with some of these gentlemen.” “I can’t go it, sir!” replied the dandy strutting up and down : “nev er slept in the room with any body in my life, sir ! and never will, must have a room sir!” The landlord laughed outright at the airs of the coxcomb, and then said, very good humoredJy, “well, I’ll go and talk with my wife, and see what we can do.” “ My dear,” said the landlord as he entered the supper-room, “here’s a man who says he must have a room to himself.” “ What, that greedy man in cor sets ?” “ The same.” “Set him up with a room,” ex claimed the landlady. “ He is a trifling fellow,” said the landlord, “hut if vve can accom modate the poor little man, we had better do so.” The lady professed her readiness to discharge the rites of hospitality, but declared that there was not a vacant apartment in the house. “ Give him my room aunt,” said the pretty niece, “I will sleep with the children, or any where N r ou please.” The 3 r oung lady was a visitor, and a great favorite, and the elder lady was altogether opposed to putting her to any discomfort, particularly on account of such a rude man. But the niece carried the point, and arrangements were made accordingly. In a few minutes, the silent man was conducted by the landlord to a v er3 r handsomely furnished apart ment in the hack part of the house. Everything here was of the best and neatest kind. A suit of cur tains hungaround the bed, the,coun terpane was white as snow, and the bed-linen was fresh and fragrant.— The dandy walked around the room, examining every thing with the air of a man who fancied his lire in danger from some contagi ous disease, or venomous reptile.— He then threw open the bed clothes and after inspecting them exclaim ed, “ I can’t sleep in that bed !” “ Why not sir ?” exclaimed the astonished landlord. “ It’s not clean ! I can’t sleep in it!” replied the dandy, strutting up and down with the most amusing air of self importance, “ I wouldn’t sleep in that bed for a thousand dol lars!” “ Take care what \ou sav,” said the landlord, “ you are not aware that I keep the best house in the country, and that my wife is famed for the cleanliness of her house and beds!” “ Can’t help it,” replied the dan dy, very deliberately surveying himself in a mirror, “very sorry sir, awkward business to be sure—but to be plain with you, I won’t sleep in a dirty bed to please any man.” “You won’t, won’t you?” “ No sir, I will not.” “ Then I shall make you !” said the landlord, and seizing the aston iseed dandy’ by the back of the neck he led him to the bed, and forced his face down upon it—“ look at it,” continued the enraged Tennessean, “ examine it—smell it—do you call that bed dirty, you puppy ?” Then going to the door, he called to a servant to bring a horsewhip ; and informed the terrified dandy that unless lie undressed and went to bed instantly, he should order his negro to horsewhip him. In vain the mortified youngster promised to do all that was required of him ; the landlord would trust nothing to his word, but remained until his guest was disrobed, corsets and all, and snugly nestled under the snow white counterpane. It was nearly breakfast time when the crest-fallen stranger made his appearance in the morning. To his surprise, his steed, who had evi dently fared as well as himself, stood ready saddled at the door. — “ Pray, sir,” said he to his host, in a very humble tone, and in a man ner which showed him at a loss how to begin a conversation, “ pray, sir, at what hour do you breakfast?” “ We breakfast at eight,” was the reply. “ but the question is one in which you can have little interest:— for you must seek a meal elsewhere.” ‘‘Surely, my dear sir, y r ou would not treat a gentleman with such in dignity—” “ March ?” said the landlord. “ My bill ” “You owe me nothing ; 1 should think myself degraded by recei ving vour monev.” O y y In another moment, the self im portant mortal; who had the evening before ridden through the town with such a consciousness of his own dignity, was galloping away, degraded, vexed and humbled. “As he passed along, the same backwoodsman, who had gone to ascertain the fact of his vitality, on his first arrival, met him, and put off his hat, said, very civilly, “ stran ger, your girth is under your horse!” The dandy reigned up his steed, jumped off, and found that his girth was indeed under his horse—where it ought to be. “ Do you mean to insult me ?” — exclaimed he turning fiercely upon the backwoodsman ; but the latter, instead of replying, cooly remarked to bis companion, “if it ain’t alive I’ll agree to be shot,” and walked on. “Who is tliat young man ?” in quired the judge of the circuit court, as the stranger rode off. “He is a Philadelphia Dun,” re plied the landlord. “ I am no wiser than before,” said his honor. “Have you lived in this country so long, and not know this race of men? They are collectors, sent out by eastern merchants to collect their debts. Although they come from different cities, they all go un der the general denomination ; but too many are like yonder chap.” “ But how do you know this to be one of them ?” “Oh, bless you, I know them well. I read the history of that youth in his motions, before he was in the house five minutes. One year ago he could bow and smile like a French dancing master, skip over a coun ter and play as many tricks as a pet monkey. He is just out of his apprenticeship, promoted to the dignity of a dun, and mounted on a fine horse, and you know the old proverb, ‘set a beggar on horse back—’ ” l understand the whole matter,” replied the judge, and very gravely walked into the house, while the other members of the bar were roar ing with laughter at this adventure of the Phildaelphia Dun. A BARGAIN. A celebrated essence pedlar, who had perambulated the streets of Newbury port nearly the whole of a long summer’s day without selling a single phial of his wares, called in upon a hatter near the market place, and told him he could pay tor it in essences. Trade had been rather dull with the hatter also, that day; so he was not backward for an ‘operation,’ and in a short time a bargain was struck up for a ‘tile,* the price of which was fixed at five dollars , to be paid in essences. 4 There, by thunder!’ exclaimed the man of extracts, 4 I’ve made one trade to-day, anyhow.’ •It’s the first bargain l've closed to-day,’ returned the hatter. 4 Now,’ continued the pedlar man, 4 1 don’t want this hat; it is too nice for this business, exposed as I am to all weathers —sun, dust and rain. What will you give me for it cash?* 4 1 sell, but do not buy hats,’ re turned the man of ‘tiles.’ ‘ You shall have it cheap,’ said the pedlar: ‘ I’ll sell it to you for three dollars .’ 4 No, you will not,’ replied the hatter. ‘ Well,’ importuned the vender of tinctures, what will you give for it?’ ‘ I tell you I sell, and do not buy, at anv rate,’ returned the dealer in ‘castors.* 4 But,’ comin ued the indefatigable vender of peppermint and laven der, ‘it certainly must be worth something t.oyou ; it must have cost you something for stock and labor ; now please make me an offer, and I’ll not ask you further. - The hatter wearied with his cus tomer, took out a dollar and a half, threw it upon the counter, and said, 4 if you want that for the hat, take it and be off’, for it’s all you’ll get from me.’ The essence man took the money, and coolly put it in his pocket and started for the street. Just as he was closing the door he said to the hatter. 4 Well old cockalorum, I’ve made seventy-fire cents out of you, anyhow!’ lltalfh Undervalued . —Such is the power ol health, that, without its co operation, every other comfort is tor pid and lifeless, as the powers of ve getation without the sun. And yet this bliss is commonly thrown away in thoughiless negligence, or in fool ish experiments on our own strength we let it perish without remember ing its value, or waste it to show how much we have to spare —it is some times given up to the management of levity and chance and sometimes sold for the applause of jollity and debauchery. It is curious that some learned dunces, because they can write non* sence in languages that are dead, should despise those that talk sense in languages that are living. ‘To acquire a few tongues,’ says a French writer, ‘is the task of a few year*, but to be eloquent, in one is. the labor of a life,’ NUMBER 13
