A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1???, October 26, 1850, Image 1
VOLUME 11. €l)t jfnntli nf €\)t jfntitihj, A Weekly Southern Newspaper, PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY EDWARD J. PURSE. terms: Two Dollars a year, in advance, or Two Fifty if not paid within three months. SUBSCRIPTIONS RECEIVED FOR SIX MONTHS, AT ONE DOLLAR, IN ADVANCE. Three copies for one year, or one copy three years, ------- $5 00 Seven Copies, - -- -- -- 10 00 Twelve copies, - - - - - - -15 00 Advertisements to a limited extent, will be inserted at the rate of 50 cents for a square of twelve lines or less, for the first in sertion, and 30 cents for each subsequent insertion. Business cards inserted fora year at Five Dollars. HP* A liberal discount will be made to Post Masters v/lio will do us the favor to act as Agents. Postmasters are authorized to remit mo ney to Publishers and all money mailed in presence of the Postmaster, and duly for warded o him, is at our risk. ftT All communications to be addressed (post paid) to E. J. PURSE, Savannah, (In. JOHN POOLS, PAINT AND OIL STORE, No. 11 Whitaker Street, Keeps constantly for sale White Lead, Pure Nos. 1 and 2 English. Ground Paints: Black, Yellow, Brown, Chrome Green, Paris Green, and Prussian Blue; Dry Venetian Red, Spanish Brown, Lamp black, Yellow Ochre, Red Leal, Litharge, Paris and Chrome Green, Prussian Blue, Chrome Yel low, Umber. Terra de Sienna, Drop Black, and a variety of fancy colors; Linseed Oil, Sperm do, Neutsfoot do. and Spirits of Turpentine ; White Wash Brushes, Paint, Varnish, Graining and Ar tists Brushes ; Window and Picture Glass of all qualities; Copal, Japan, Lisjht and Dark Coach Varnish; Mixed Paints of all kinds; Paper Hang ings, l ire Board Prints and Borders. The above articles will he sold on reasonable terms. f?’ House, Sign and Ship Painting done in a worktrmniike manner, and at reasonable prices, oct 19 ly G-. BUTLER, MASTER BUILDER, DEALER IN WHITE PINE LUMBER, York Street, Oglethorpe Square. N. B.—lie is prepared to put in Iron fronts to Stores, &c. ly oct 19 T. R. CLARKE, FASHIONABLE BOOT MAKER, Next door to corner Bull and Broughton-sts. oct 10 ly A. PONCE, Importer and Manufacturer of Scgars, No. 13 Whitaker Street, Keeps on hand a well selected stock of impoited Segars ; also Manufactured Tobacco, Snuff, Pipes, and till other articles usually kept in his line of business, which he offers on the most reasonable terms. ly oct 19 SAM L. L. SPEISSEGGER, TUNER $ REPAIRER PIANO FORTES, HAVING been engaged in the above busi ness for the last 35 years, Mr S. trusts that special references are unnecessary. Orders left with Mr 11. S. Bogardus, Bull-st., Messrs F. Zngbaum & Cos., or Messrs I. W . Mor rell &. Cos., wiil be attended to with promptness arid fidelity. lm oct 12 W. A. J. WYLLY, CABINET MAKER UNDERTAKER, Corner of Broughton and Bull Streets, Under the Lyceum Hall. Coffins nf all kinds made of the best materials, and furnished at the shortest notice. Also, uew and second hind Fu niturc bought and sold, and repaired with dispatch. ort 12 2 m N. ELLS, FASHIONABLE BOOT MAKER, No. 104 Broughton-st., near the corner of Bull-- t. oct 12 .if J. S. SOLOMONS B ILL contract to execute I’iastci iog, of all kinds and styles, at the shortest notice. Residence, President Street, next door to Mr. B. Snider s. 2 n oct 12 BOOK AND JOB PRINTING. GEO. N. NICHOLS, (Ovens’ Building, opposite the Pulaski House,) SAVANNAH, GA. li prepared to execute all work in his line, with neatness and despatch, and in a style not to be surpassed. Brices as reasonable as any other establishment in ihe city. ly t 28 JOHN F. SHEEN, fashionable tailor, Over .1. M. Haywood's Hair Dress ins Saloon, OPPOSITE THE PULASKI HOUSE. Cutting, Mending and Cleaning done with neatness *nd despatch- Work made up as cheap as at any other establishment in the city. sep* 21 J. DE MARTIN, DEALER IN Fruits, W iaes, Liquors, Scgars. PICKLES, PRESERVES and GARDEN SLEDS. —: also: — APPLES, ONIONS POTATOES, When in season, received fresh by every vessel. —: also: — Oysters put up to order in from Ito 10 gallon kegs. Corner of Bay and Whitaker Streets, JOHN OLIVER, HOUSE AND SIGN PAINTER, GILDER, GLAZIER, &c., No. 121 Broughton Street, a few doors east of Whitaker Street, Savannah, Ga. t if’ All kinds of Paints —Paint Oil, Turpentine, Varnish, Glass. Putty, &e., for sale. July 20. EDWARD G. WILSON, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, Conveyancer, Collector, Accountant .tj- Copyist, Office under .T. M. Havwood’s. rF*R ‘tarn Day, Wednesday, November 27th. JOHN MALLERY, DRAPER AND TAILOR, No. 55 Bay-st. joining the City Hotel. Invites the attention to his Stock of. New and Seasonable Goods, now opening, consisting of choice READY MADE CLOTHING and FUR BISHING GOODS, comprising every article °f Gentlemen's apparel. Also, a full supply of CLOTHS, CASS IME RES and VESTINGS, of various shades and qualities which will be made to order in the most ap proved style, by competent and experienced orktnen, warranted to give entire satisfaction, *nd at prices to suit the times oct 18 IfiHirt nnir art, flip &nns nf faipraarc, <Diiit fftnainrn unit Hit Inns nf tijp Dmp McARTHOR & MORSE, Manufacturers and Dealers in PLAIN, JAPANNED & BLOCK TIN WARE, HOLLOW & ENAMELLED WARE, STOVES AND COOKING RANGES, Lead Pipe, Sheet Lead. Copper and Zinc, STORE, 13 BARNARD STREET. Ail kinds of Copper, Tin and Sheet Iron Work, done in the best manner, at the shortest notice. P P* 51 lyr ALLEN & BALL, FACTORS & COMMISSION MERCHANTS, No. 112 BAY STREET, SAVANNAH, GA. J. M. BALL & CO., CommtfiHton S&crcHants, MACON, GEORGIA. ROBERT A. ALLEN, JAMES M. BALL, sept 20 ly JONES & PAFOT, Shipwrights, Spar Makers, AND CAULKERS. Yard opposite R.& J. Lachlison’s Foundry. R. H. DARBY, P T’ EX B H _ Corner Broughton and Whitaker Streets, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. R. 11. D. is prepared to execute all orders for Making or Cutting on reasonable terms. * mar 9 ]y J. S. STURTEVANT, MASTER BUILDER, Corner Montgomery and Liberty Sts. All orders in his line will be promptly attended to, and faithfully executed. ly * )une 1 JOHN V. TARVER, FACTOR $ COMMISSION MERCHANT exchange wharf, savannah, GA. RABUN & FULTON, COMMISSION MERCIIANTS, 80. 20< Bay Street, Savannah, Ga. J. W. RABUN, R. L. FULTON, I. P. WHITEHEAD. LANIER HOUSE, BY LANIER & SON, June 22 Macon, Georgia. J. HASBROUCK & CO., \\ holesale and Retail Dealers in CHINA, GLASS AND EARTHENWARE, sept 21 BROUGHTON STREET, SAVANNAH. S. Y. LEV Y, ATTO RN E Y A T LA W , J3lfice, No. 185 Bav-Strcet. E. T. SHEFTALL, A T TOR N E Y A T L AW , may 23 Dublin, Georgia. MEDICAL NOTICE. DOCTOR MOREL. Office No. 157 Brough ton Street. ts mar FRANCIS V/AVER, IMPORTING & COMMISSION MERCHANT, No 107 Bay Street, Savannah, Geo. PHILIP KEAN, DRAPER AND TAILOR, AND DEALER IX READY MADE CLOTHING. Renfield's Range, No. 98 Bryan Street, Store formerly occupied by J. Southwell &, Cos G. V/ HEDRICK, HOUSE AND SIGN PAINTER, Gilder, Glazier, Grainer k Paper Hanger. No. 12 Barnard Street, Soutli of the Market, IS always ready toexeente all orders in his line with dispatch, and at the lowest prices. All kinds of mixed Paints, Glass and Putty kept for sale. lyr Dec 22 J. T. JONES, MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN Double & Single Guns, Rifles, &c., West Side of Monument Square. SAMUEL S. MILLER, MANUFACTURER OF CARRIAGES AND WAGONS, DEALER IN HUBS, SPOKES, FELLOES, &c. No. 140 Broughton St., Savannah. A SHORT, MASTER BUILDER, Will t ike contracts for Building and Work in Ma sonry of every description. Cornet of South Broad and Whitaker streets. may 26 CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER. The subscriber is prepared to execute with neatness and despatch all work in the above line. 142 Broughton Bt. Two Doors West of I. W. MORRELL’S Furniture Store. pme 1 ly I. SOLOMONS, Agent. CLOTHING, PIERSON & HE IDT offer for sale CLOTHING, Wholesale and Retail, at New York prices, No. 10 Whitaker Street. apl 26 DR. J. DENNIS, BOTANIC DRUGGIST, Next door above L. C. Warren &. Cos, Augusta, Ga. Keeps constantly on hand a choice assortment, selected from the best establishments in the United States, consisting of Emetics, Cathartic®, Diapho retics, Diuretics, Expectorants. Emmcnagnirue*, Stimulants, Tonics, Astringents, Nervines, Alka lies, Alteratives, Rubefacients, and Compounds for family use. Composition Powder, No. bix, Lobelia in its various preparations, &e., also Medical Books. may 4 ALFRED HAYWOOD, CORNER BRYAN AND BARNARD STREETS, Market Square, Savannah, Denier in Choice FRUITS, CANDIES. NI IS, ORANGES, LEMONS, APPLES, AND PO TATOES, Wholesale and Retail. First quality Thnnderbolt Oysters, Fih, &c. Newark refined Champaigne Cider, and Albany Cream Ale, by the bbl. ty Orders from the Country, accompanied by the cash or City reference, punctually attended to ‘ a'tg 9 GAS PIPES AND FIXTURES. STRATTON At DOBSON, Ha ving received an assortment of Chandeliers, Pendants, Brackets and Portable Gas Burners, respectfully invite the citizens of Savannah to call at their store, No. 72 St. Julian street, 0"d examine the same 4t juue 1 G. M. GRIFFEN, HAVING puichased the stock in trade of thelate M. Eastman, would solicit the con inued patronage of all the friends of the establishment. All customers shall be pleased with goods and satisfied with prices. GEO. M. GRIFFEN. N. B.—Watches and Chrometers will receive the personal attention of Mr. G., as usual, sept 21 • Jblrrtrii 1 rom Arthur's Hume Gazette. TO ONE UNSEEN, THOUGH PRESENT. I know thou art at rest, Cold, cold upon thy breast 1 saw the damp sod, and the falling mould ; ‘ et oft at day's decline, Thy loving hand clasps mine With the kind pressure that it gave of old. This tress of sunny hair, T. hou bad’st me ever wear ; Oh dearest! didst thou think that we should part? Ah no ! thou’rt with me now, Thy breath is on my brow, I feel thy presence in my throbbing heart. rhou’rt with me, though unseen, At morn, at shady e’en. By hill or grove, on sea or silent shore, Thy love— Oh !is it not In each familiar spot, Breathing its blessings, as it breathed ofyore! They call thee lost and gone, r They think that lam lone, \ et tell me oft of happier days to come, And know not that I stand. Lured by thy beckoning hand, On the bright threshold of thy spirit-home. And oh! when I depart, \Y hen tails this throbbing heart. Tell me, oh tell me, shall I not the while, Enfolded to thy breast, Breathe out my soul to rest, And meet Heaven’s welcome beaming in thy smile. “ S. From Fitzgerald's City Item. My HAPPY HILLSIDE HOME. AN ORIGINAL SONG BY OLIVKR OAKWOOD. The mountain stretching to the sky, Is beauteous to behold, When at the early morning hour, It dons a cap of gold. But there’s a scene 1 hold more dear, From which I would not roam, To me ’tis bound by love's strong ties My happy hillside home ! I’ve rode upon the stormy main, And trod the flowery land, I’ve sought for re’st ’mid far-off isles, By gentle breezes fanned; Yet gladly turned my weary feet, From isle and ocean foam. To rest ’neath thy refreshing shade, Myh appy hillside home ! The robin at. the dawn >f day, Pours forth his song of love, And other warblers swell the strain. That sweetly floats above. Then you who see no joy in life, 1 pray you hither come, And taste the pleasures all around, My happy hillside home ! i ■ ■ 11 ■ . Idnlcit €n(e. I ■ ■ THE SICKNESS AND HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE OF BLEABURN. IN THREE PARTS CHAP. VI. The new clergyman was, as the i land bird supposed he would be, a J very different person from Mr. Finch. If he had not been a fear less man, he would not have come ; much less would he have brought his wife, which he did. The first sight of this respectable couple, middle-aged, business like, and somewhat dry in their manner, tended to give sobriety to the tone of mind of the Bleaburn people; a sobriety which was more and more wanted from day to day ; while certainly the aspect of Bleaburn was enough to discourage the new residents, let their expectations have been as dismal as they might. Mr. arid Mrs. Kirby arrived when Bleaburn was at its lowest point of depression and woe. The church yard was now so full that it could not be made to hold more; and ten or eleven corpses were actually ly ing unburied, infecting half-a-dozen cottages from this cause. There was an actual want of food in the place—so few were able to earn wages. Farmer Neale did all he could to tempt his neighbors to work for him ; for no strangers would come near a place which w r as re garded as a pesthouse; but the strongest arm had lost its strength ; and the men, even those who had not had the fever, said they felt as if they could never work again.— The women went on, as habitual knitters do, knitting early and late, almost night and day ; but there was no sale. Even if their wares were avouched to have passed through soap and water before they were brought toO , still no one would run the slightest risk for the sake of hose and comforters ; and week af ter week, word was sent that noth ing was sold ; and at last, that it would be better not to send any more knitted goods. In the midst of all this distress, there was no one to speak to the people; no one to i keep their minds clear and their ; hearts steady. For many weeks, there had not been a prayer public ly read, nor a psalm sung. Mean while, the great comet appeared nightly, week after week. It seemed as if it would never go away ; and there was a general persuasion that the comet was sent for a sign to Bleaburn alone, and not at all for , of the earth, or of the uni ! verse ; and that the fever would ndt be stayed while the sign remained in the sky. It would have been SAVANNAH, GA., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1850, well if this had been the worst. — The people always rude, were now growing desperate ; and they found, as desperate people usually do, an object near at hand to vent their fu ry upon. They said that it was the doctor’s business to make them well ; that he had not made them well; that so many had died, that anybody might see how foul means had been used ; and that at last some of the doctor’s tricks had come out. Two of Dick Taylor’s children had been all but choked by some of the doctor’s physic ; and they might have died if the Good Lady had not chanced to have been there at the moment, and known what to dr?. And the doctor tried to get ofl’ with saying that it was a mistake, and that that physic was never made to go down anybody’s throat. They said, too, that it was only in this doctor’s time that there had been such a fever. There was none such in the lale doctor’s time ; nor now, in other places—at least not so bad. It was nothing like so bad at O . The doctor had spo ken lightly of the comet ; he had made old Nan Dart burn the bed ding that her grandmother left her —the same that so many of her family had died on ; and, though he gave her new bedding, it could nev er be the same as the old. But there was no use talking. The doc tor was there, to make them well ; and instead of doing that, he made two out of three die, of those that had the fever. Such grumblings broke out into storm ; and when Mr. and Mrs. Kirby descended into the hollow which their friends feared would be their tomb, they Found the whole remaining population of the place, blocking up the street before the doctor’s house, and smashing his phials, and making a pile of his pill-boxes and little drawers, as they were handed out of his surgery window. A woman had brought a candle at the moment to fire the pill-boxes; and she kneeled down to apply the flame. The people had already’ broken bottles enough to spill a good deal of queer stuff; and some of this stuff was so queer as to blaze up, half as high as the houses, as quick as thought. The flame ran along the ground, and spread like magic. The people fled, supposing this the doings of the comet and the doctor together. Off they went, up and down, and into the houses whose doors were open. But the woman’s clothes were on fire. She would have run too ; but Mr. Kirby caught her arm, and his firm grasp made her stand, while Mrs. Kirby wrapped her cam let cloak about the part that was on lire. It was so quickly done—in such a moment, of time, that the poor creature was not much burned ; not at all dangerously ; and tlie new pastor was at once informed of the character of the charge he had un dertaken. That very evening Warrender was sent through the village, as cri er, to give a notice, to which every ear was open. Mr. Kirby having had medical assurance that it was injurious to the public health that more funerals should take place in the churchyard, and that the bodies should lie unburied, would next day bury the dead above the brow, on a part of Furzy Knoll, selected for the purpose. For anything unusual a bout this proceeding, Mr. Kirby would be answerable, considering the present state of the village of Bleaburn. A wagon would pass through the village at six o’clock the next morning, and all who had acoflin in their houses were reques ted to bring it out, for solemn con veyance to the new burial ground; and those who wished to attend the interment must be on the ground at eight o’clock. All ears were open the next morn ing, when the cart made its slow progress down the street; and went out to see. It was starlight; and from the east came enough of dawn to show how the vehicle looked with the pall thrown over it. Now and then, as it passed a space between the houses, a puff of wind blew aside the edge of the pall, and then the coffins were seen within, ranged one upon another—quite a load of them. It stopped for a mi nute at the bottom of the street ; and it was a relief to the listeners to hear Warrender tell the driver that ihere were no more, and that he might proceed up to the brow. Af ter watching the progress of the cart till it could no longer be dis tinguished from the wall of grey rock along which it was ascending, those who could be spared from tending the sick, put on such black as they could muster to go to the service. It was, happily, a fine morning— as fine a November morning as could be seeif? It is not often that weather is of so much consequence as it was to the people of Bleaburn to-day. They could not themselves have told how it was that they came down from the awful service at Furzy Knoll so much more light hearted than they went up ; and when some of them were asked the reason, by those who remained be low, they could not explain it—but, somehow, every thing looked bright er. It was, in fact; riot rtierely the calm sunshine on the hills, and the quiet shadows in the hollows ; it was not merely the ruddy tinge of the autumn ferns on the slopes, or the lively hop and flit of the wag tail about the spring-heads and the stones in the pool; it was not mere ly that the fine morning yielded cheering influences like these, but that it enabled many, who would have been kept below by rain, to hear what their new pastor had to say. After going through the burial service very quietly, and waiting with a cheerful countenance while the business of lowering so many coffins by so few hands was effected, he addressed, in a plain and con versational style, those who were present. He told them that he had never before witnessed an inter ment like this ; and he did not at all suppose that either he or they should see such another. Indeed, hence forth any funerals must take place without delay; as they very well might, now that on this beautiful spot there was room without limit. He told them how Farmer Neale had had the space-they saw staked out since yesterday, and how it would be fenced in—roughly, per haps, but securely—before night He hoped and believed that the worst of the sickness was over.— The cold weather was coming on, and, perhaps, he said with a smile, it might be a comfort to some of them to know that the comet was goingaway. He could not say for himself that he should not he sorry when it disappeared ; for he thought it a very beautiful sight, and one which reminded every eye that saw it, how die • heavens declare the glo ry of God;’ and the wisest men were all agreed that it was a sign— not of any mischief, but of the beauty of God’s handiwork in the firmament, as the Scriptures call the starry sky. The fact was, it was found that comets come round regularly, like some of the other stars and our o\VJ moon ; and when a comet had once been seen, peo ple of a future time would know when to look for it again, and would be too wise to be afraid of it. But he had better tell them about such things at another time, when per haps they would !et their children come up to his house, and look through a telescope—a glass that magnified things so much, that when they saw the stars, they would hard ly believe they were the same stars that they saw every clear night.— Perhaps they might then think the commonest sfhr as wonderful as any comet. Another reason why they* might hope for better health, was, that people at a distance now knew more of die distress of Blea burn than they had done ; and he could assure his neighbours that sup plies of nourishing food and whole some clothing would be lodged with the cordon till the people of the place could once more earn their own living. Another reason why they might hope for better health was, that they were learning by ex perience what was good for health and what was bad. This was a very serious and important subject, on which he would speak to them again and again, on Sundays and at all times, till he had shown them what he thought about their having, he might almost say, their lives and health in their own hands. He was sure that God had ordered it so; and he expected to be able to prove to them, by and by, that there need be no fever in Bleaburn if they chose to prevent it. And now, about these Sundays and week days. He deeply pitied them that they had been cut off from worship during their time of distress. He thought there might be an end to that now. He would not advise their assembling in the church.— There were the same reasons a gainst it that there were two months ago ; but there was no place on earth where men might not worship God if they wished it. If it were now the middle of summer, he should not say that the spot they were standing on—even yet so fresh and so sunny—was the best they could have ; but soon the win ter winds would blow, and the cold rains would come driving over the hills. This would not do ; bat their was a warm nook in the hollow— the cragg behind the mill—where there was shelter from the east and north, and the warmest sun shine ever felt in the hollow—too hot in summer, but very pleas ant now. There he proposed to read prayers three times a week, at an hour which should be arranged according to the convenience of the greatest number; and there he would perform service and preach a sermon on Sundays, when the weather permitted. He should have been inclined to ask Farmer Neale for one of his barns, or to propose to meet even in his kitchen ; but he found his neighbours still feared that meeting anywhere but in the open air would spread the fever. He did not himself believe that one person gave the fever to another; but as long as his neighbours thought so, he v'ould not ask them to do what might make them afraid.— Then there was a settling what hours should be appointed for wor ship at the crag ; and the mourners came trooping down into the hol low, with brightened eyes, and freshened faces, and altogether much less like mourners than when they went up. Before night Mr. Kirby had visi ted every sick person in the place, in company with the doctor. The poor doctor would hardly have ven tured to go his round without the assistance of some novelty that might divert the attention of the people from his atrocities. Mr. Kirby did not atlempt to get rid of the subject. Hetold the discontent ed, to their faces, that the doctor knew his business better than they did; and bade them remember that it was not the doctor but them selves that had set fire to spirits of wine, or something of that sort, in the middle of the street, whereby a woman was in imminent danger of being burnt to death ; and that their outrage on the good fame and prop erty of a gentleman who had worn himself half dead with fatigue and anxiety on their account might yet cos; them very dear, if it were not understood that they were so op pressed with sorrow and want that they did not know what they were about. His consultations with the doctor from house to house, and his evident deference to him in regard to matters ot health and sickness, wrought a great change in a few hours; and the effect was prodi giously increased when M rs. Kirbv, herself a surgeon’s daughter, and no stranger in a surgery, offered her daily assistance in making up the medicines, and administering such as might be misused by those who could not read the labels. “ That is what the Good Lad} 7 does, when she can get out at the rig ht time,” observed someone, “ but now poor Jem is down, and his mother hardly up again yet, it is not every day, as sfie says, that she can go so far out of call.” “ Who is th ; s Good Lady? ” in quired Mr. Kirby. “ I have been hardly twenty-four hours in this place, and I seem to have heard her name fifty times; and yet no body seems able to say who she is.” “She almost overpowers their faculties, I believe,” replied the doctor ; “ and, indeed, it is not very easy to look upon her as upon anv other young lady. It comes easier to one’s tongue to call her an angel than to introduce her as Miss Mary Pickard, from America.” When he had told what he knew of her, the Kirbys said, in ihe same breath : “ Let us go and see her.” And the doctor showed them the way to Widow Johnson’s where poor Jem was languishing, in that state which is so affecting to witness, when he who has no intellect seems to have more power of patience than he who has most. The visitors arrived at a critical moment, however, when poor Jem’s distress was very great, and his mother’s hardly There lay the Good Lady on the ground, doubled up in a strange sort of way ; Mrs. Johnson trying to goto her, but unable ; and Jem, on his bed in the closet within, cry ing because something was clearly the matter. “ What’s to do now ? ” exclaimed the doctor. Mary laughed as she answered, “ O nothing, Gut that I can’t get up. I don’t know how I fell, and I can’t get up. But it is mere fatigue— want of sleep. Do convince Aunty that I have not got the fever.” “ Let’s see,” said the doctor.— Then, after a short study of his new patient, he assured Mrs. John son that he saw no signs of fever about her niece. She had had enough of nursing for the present, and now she must have rest. “ That is just it,” said Mary.— “ If somebody will put something under me here, and just let me sleep fora few days, I shall do very well.” “ Not there, Miss Pickard,” said Mrs. Kirby, “you must be brought to our house, where everything will be quiet about you ; and then you may sleep on till Christmas, if you wiil.” Mary felt the kindness-; but she evidently preferred remaining just where she was; and,wiihdue con sideration, she was indulged. She did not wish to be carried through the street, so thrit the people might see that the Good Lady was down at last; and besides, she felt as if she should die by the wav, though really believing she should do verv well if only let alone. She was al lowed to order things just as she liked. A mattress was pul under her, on the Hoor. Ann Warrender came and undressed her, lifting her limbs as if she was an infant, for she could not move them herself} and daily was she refreshed, as she had taught others to refresh those who cannot move from their beds* Every morning the doctor came, and agreed with her that there was nothing in the world the matter with her ; that she had only to lie still till she felt the wish to get up ; and every day came Mrs. Kirby to take a look at her, if her eyes were closed ; and if she was able to talk and listen, to tell her how the sick were faring, and what were the prospects of Bleaburn. After these visits, something good was often found near the pillow; srme firm jelly,or particularly pure arrow- root, or the like; odd things to he drop ped by the fairies ; but Mrs. Kirby s*id the neighbours liked to think that the Good Lady was waited on by the Good People. Another odd thing was, that for several days Mary could not sleep at all. She would have liked it, and she needed it extremely, and the window curtain was drawn, and everybody was very quiet, and even poor Jem caught the frick of quietness, and lay immoveable for hours, when the door of his closet was open, watching to see her sleep. But she could not. She felt, what whs indeed true, that Aunty’s large black e\ 7 es were forever fixed upon her; and she could not but be aware that the matter of the very first pub lic concern in Bleaburn was, that she should go to sleep ; and this was enough to prevent it. At last, when people were getting fright ened, and even the doctor told Mr. Kirby that he should be glad to coirect this insomnolonce, the news went solilv along the street one dav, told in whispers even at tho further end, that the good lady was asleep. Phe children were warned that they must keep within doors, or go up to the brow to play; there must be no noise in the hollow. > The dogs were not allowed to bark, not the ducks to quack ; and Far mer Neale s carts w'ere, on no ac* count, to go below the Plough and Idai row. Fhe patience of all per sons who liked to make a noise , was tried and proved, for nobody bioke the rule j and when iNJary once began sleeping, it seemed as if she would never stop. She could hardly keep awake to eat, or to be vvashed ; and, as for having her hair brushed, that is always drowsy work, and she could never look before her for <wo minutes to gether while it was done. She thought it all very ridiculous, and laughed at her own laziness, and then, before the smile was off her lips, she had sunk on her pillow and was asleep again. PART 111. Chapter vh. It was a regular business now lor three or four of the boys of Rleaburn to go up to tl>e brow every morning to bring down the stores fiomO , which were daily left there under the care of the watch. Mr. Kirby had great influence al ready with the boys of Bleaburn. He found plenty for them to do, and when they were very hungry with running about, he gave them whole some food to satisfy their healthy appetite. He said, and Mrs Kirby and the doctor worked hard, and they could not let anybody be idle but those who were ill; and, now that the regular work and wages of the place were suspended, he arranged matters after his own sense of the needs of the people. The hoys who survived and were in health, formed a sort of regiment under his orders, and they certainly never liked work so well before. Every little fellow now felt his own consequence, and was aware ofhis own responsibility. A cer tain number,as has been said, went up to the brow to bring down the stores. A certain number were to succeed each other at the doctor’s door, from hour to hour, to carry NUMBER 34,