A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1???, October 26, 1850, Image 1

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    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,