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About A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1??? | View Entire Issue (Nov. 23, 1850)
<£>rigiMj ‘raif * A DELB HtWX 03SABAW. „ ...... „ beautiful nfwrooon. m i I'D ‘Ct-iv btT !S —; ulien. - lie mo "‘i.i. <>f I . n - u !‘\Vfi the city of Savannah fcX-Tiute slo-P J“l fnn, lor an ... the Island ot Ossabaw, eXCUr We had a favora- I’teYeeze. so gently breathing up on our sails, that surly Boreas • inla ,i ,hail Ins wonted mood, sent a zephyrs to waft us along. We casl anchTu* about ten o'clock at uioht near Ossabaw sound. 1 was •iroused from my slumber in the ‘ nriiin” hv a noise on deck, and K°the little vessel springing from Wilder me, and leaping from wave to wave like a high mettled racer with his goal hut a bound be fore him. 1 soon dressed and moun ted the deck, sot bam candid to con fess that I’m atVa id of rough water, and not the man to |day with ocean’s mane, or mount his v\ 1 ji te winged coursers, and scout ms pathless tie Ids. We were crossing Ossabaw sound, and the swelling ocean was sending m its moimng s tribute in \ad scrolls, w hich rolled irresistibly onward, ami majesti cally unfolded on the shores ot Os sabaw, our gallant little vessel ae ,ted nobly ; she would mount a wave as gracefully as the swan, then seemingly piuse for a moment to shake the water from her sides, as the lion scatters from his mane tne morning dew. Our party consisted of etgut souls, three hunters tro n the city ot Sa vannah, a young doctor from LI , the Captain of the sloop, his sea man Pat licit, his friend little Sammy of the county of B , and old lshtmn 1, a free man of color. It was a little amusing to hear Simmy, unaccustomed to the sea, cry “sad ho ! ” as the snowy inane ot a dis tant wave, Hashed for an instant up on his unpractised vision. About nine o'clock at night we cast anchor in Johnson’s creek opposite the hunting grounds. An inky cloud came heaving up in die eastern horizon, and soon the rain drops came tumbling on the deck. W e drew back into our little berths, like affrighted snails into their narrow shells. Merrily, mer rily did the night wind howl and whistle, and rave around our little vessel, beneath whose deck the hunters hud fain themselves down to rest. Now it would whistle through tie rigging of onr little ves sel, and anon sigh among the tree tops, like the wail of some lost one of the waste. Hours passed away before the. hunters could quiet their minds to slumber. We hid a pack of eight dogs! chained on ltie open deck, anil as! they could not endure with equan-j imity die pitiless drenching ot a cold winter’s shower, they began howling about three o'clock in the morning like a pack of hungry wolves, scenting the blood stained tracks of a wounded deer. Jt is in deed a bitter thing rudely to have! ones rest broken up, and it is not in my nature to bear with it quietly.— First l ordered the brutes in tones of stern mandate, to cease their noisy rebellion. Then l addressed them in language mild and conciliatory, ; entreaty and command were alike! unsiicecsstu 1, and they continued their howling, vexing the dull ear of every diowsy man, in the terrible language ot Macbeth’s evil con science “sleep no more.’ In very desperation of self defence I arose and mounted the- deck, to count j away the tedious hours until day-1 light. Fortunately the rain ceased j in a few minutes after, and as the morning advanced the clouds dis appeared. The sun rose in cloud less in ijestv, ihe heavens were calm and blue, and the bright orb of day J was soon careering on in his giant course as gloriously as if ihe storm cloud had never swept his path. We partook of breakfast about eight o clock, and about nine we j sounded our horns to assemble the j dogs. Ihe wild, clear, startling! notes or tue hunters horns, waking the slumbering echoes of the distant hammocks, succeeded by the baying i of the hounds, all gave” indications | that some light tooted deer would soon bite the dust. Old Ishmael with four dogs entered Johnson’s! hammock. W e took our stands a bout one hundred and fifty yards apart, on the marsh tints and sand spits, each commanding a deer path or avenne, through which the deer were expected to pass. A few mo-I merits after taking our stands, we heard the dogs in full cry com in” < down upon us,a doe passed Sammy, who tired without success, lu ihe afternoon old Ishmael killed a fine doe. Night approached, and ihe hunters dispirited and worn out with fatigue, gathered around a blazing fire to count over the events of the day. On the second we hunted without success. After sup per Sammy said he would like to go fire hunting if the quinch owls would holla ; this expression exci ted the risible emotions of the whole party, and poor Sammy heard e nough ot the quinch owls during our sojourn on Ossabaw. We all re tired for the night and were soon en folded in the arms of slumber.— The next morning was trulv a love ly one, the sun arose in the splendor of his oriental pomp, the air was as calm and as mild as an infants dream, and as smiling as the fath ers gaze upon the sleeping counte nance of his first born babe. We hunted this day on the beach ham mocks. A herd of seven deer pass ed near the young doctor, who bad never belly re seen a wiid deer. — With the first fi’e he laid a beauti ful doe gasping at his feet, with the second barrel he crippled another, which finally escaped. Few men can boast of doing as much, for l have known old and experienced hunters so awed and unnerved at the sight of a deer, that they had not the power to pull a trigger. On the fourth day one of the hunters killed two deer. We returned to the camp about sunset, partook of sup per, then clustered around a cheer ful fire, and inquired of Sammy if he intended to go fire hunting in the event of the quinchowls holloaing. “ Gentlemen,” said he, “ you think ’tis all a humbug about the quinch owis, but I will tell you a circum stance that will prov'e all that 1 say about them is true One night we heard the quinch ‘owls singing away like all Jerusa lem, so off we puts, and we killed six deer that night. Well, what it talk it did make, one of the high back aristocrats of our county who wears bis bat on one side of his head, with a red silk handkerchief tied round his neck, and high heel boots on, turning up at the toes a feet, called on daddy and told him if be didn’t stop fire hunting, be would prosecute him, and told him if he didn’t get satisfaction there, he would take him up to the courts of errors. Daddy said he might carry.it up to the coaits of Beizebub for all lie cared. Another night we went fire hunting, and walked all over the county and never heard a quinch owl or seed a deer. Just before we got home, Sammy saves, “Daddy, l see a deer’s eye, quinch owl or no quinch owl,” so l handed him the gun and he fired, “ b:yig !” Goody, gracious what a noise: you never heard such a pitching and , rearing around. Our dog tiger stood j close by us, trembling all over.- ! Fust thing we bowed the old buck | runned over daddy knocked him j down, outed all the fire, and away went tiger for home, with a little bell round his neck, ting a-ling, ting a-lingaud a holloaing every jump. Daddyjump up and swore it was I the devil, so we made tracks for ! home, and we done some tall run ! ning. Fast thing daddy done when he got home was to nail an old horse shoe over the door to keep the devil out, then he hunted up the old bibiehe had’nt seen before in twen ty years, and read a chapter in Exe j dies and Wonders, and Libilicus j and Jcrediab, and be and the rest of the family sung Psalms and Himes all night, except me 1 did’nt join in, ai.d daddy said to me Sammy aint you “afraid the devil will gome and dfag you down to eternal welfare. Not as long as the horse shoe isover the door said I. Well in the morn ing we put off for the pi ice,we shot the devil, and when we got there what should we see but our poor old mare nearly dead. She didn’t I have but one, eye and dad shot that , clean out, and-the poor old thing i knocked all the bark off the trees for i a mile around, and bruised herself all into smashes. “Serves me right,” said daddy, iC l had no business to shoot, after the quinch owis didn’t holla.” INow if you want to get the old man’s back up, just tell him about shooting a poor old one eye mure for a deer, and the way he’ll fly around and clear the kitchen will be a caution, I tell you. Anoth er night we went out fire hunting be tore the quinch owls began to sing and daddy knocked against a hor net’s nest: well, the hornets soon covered him, and the way he did cut the pigeon wing and forward | two and fall hack, was wonderful ; why Fanny Hesler as you call her, i warn’t a circumstance to him. He ! ‘ ; knocked about among the bushes j equal to the old mare. “ Daddy,” said I, “ yo-u’ve got into the courts of errors now,” how the old man did snort and rare; he cursed me for an infernal fool, and swore he never would fire hunt again About ten o'clock we retired to dream over Sammy’s hair breadth escape* In the morning we partook of breakfast at an early hour, and old Ishmael with the whole pack of dogs, (this being the last hunt,) en tered one of the hammocks, the dogs soon bounced a young buck from his lair, which was soon killed by one of the party. We then returned to the camp, and at one o’clock set sail for Savannah. A party of men who are fond of the spirit stirring chase, might pass otf a week very pleasantly on Ossa baw ; nevertheless, the deer are not so numerous as their tracks indicate, one deer will make many tracks, and the impression of deer in the sand spits will appear fresh for sev eral days, and will remain until obliterated by high spring tides, or repeated showers of rain. The young and inexperienced hunters imagine tiom the myriads of tracks that the deer are as numerous as the leaves on the trees ; but the old and | experienced hunter is not so easily | duped. Many years ago while the Indian yet retained a crumbling foothold upon this pleasant land ot bis fathers ; when the deer roved the woods in countless herds, a party of hunters might have been as success ful as old lshmael said w T e would be, “only shoot straight,“ said he, “and you will kill from twenty to tirty eb ery day.“ But such is not the case now, the march of civilozution has greatly diminished their numbers, and they and the red man have been drivers far to the setting sun. DEAN FOREST. Poetical License. —A young gentle man, not much renowned for Greek, was asked by the venerable Profes sor , one evening, to translate in his turn, that beautiful passage in the Odssev, where Penelope, en raptured at the safe return of her son, threw her “white arm around bis neck—and kissed his beautious head and both bis lovely eyes,” This passage our friend, with the utmost innocence and gravity, trans lated thus : “She threw both her white arms around his neck and cut off his beau teous head: and dug bodi his lovely eyes out /” The shouts of bis class, and the profound amazement of the pro fessor, convinced him that something was wrong—and he got ready for the question. “Mr. K.” said the professor, as soon as he could trust himself to speak—“why do you translate the passage in that strange manner?” “Oh ! sir,” replied our hero, pert ly—“by a poetical license , allowable in some cases 1” There were no more recitation that evening. O -it Lee dote of a French Soldier. —D u - ring one of Napoleon’s memorable campaigns, a detaehmentofa corps, commanded by Duvoust, occupied the island of Rugeon, which they were suddenly ordered to evacuate. They embarked with such precipi tation that they forgot one of their sentinels, who was posted in a re tired spot, and so deeply absorbed in the perusal us a newspaper con taining an account of one of the emperor’s splendid victories as to be totally unconscious of their de parture. After pacing to and fro, for many hours upon his post, he lost patience and returned to the guard-room, which he found empty. On inquiry, he learned with despair what had happened, and cried. “Alas! alas! L shall be looked upon as a deserter dishonored, un happy, wretch that I am.” His lamentation excited the com passion of a tradesman, who took him to his house, did all in his pow er to console him, taught him to make bread, for be was a baker, and after some months gave him his only daughter Justine, in marriage. Five years afterwards a strange sail was seen to approach the island. The inhabitants Hocked tothe beach, and soon discovered in the advanc ing ship a number of soldiers, wear ing the uniform of the French army. “1 am done for now, any bread is baked,’ ” cried the dismayed hus band of Justine. An idea, however, suddenly oc curred to him, and revived his cour age. He ran to his house, slipped into his uniform, and seizing his fire lock, returned to the beach and pos ted himself on sentry at the mo ment the French were landing. “Who goes there ?” replied one in a voice like thunder. “Who goes there, yourself ?” re filled one in the boat. “Who are you?” “A sentinel.” “How long have you been on guard ?” ‘ Five years,” rejoined our man. Davoust laughed at the quaint reply, and gave a discharge, in due form, to his involuntary deserter. A Singular Potato. —The Central Georgian says: “We have l'°en presented by Capt. Thomas Guyton of Laurens, with a specimen of the most singular growth of the Sweet Potato kind, that we have ever laid our eyes on. it presents the ap pearance of a snake in coil, while its conformation is so exactly similar to that vermin, as to leave no doubt on the mind a3 to its identification with that species. This is the rarest freak of nature in the vegetable world that we have met with.” The Wisconsin Free Democrat relates the following of Miss Bremer. The Swedish authoress, it appears, has as admirable an idea of hot-house keeping as of house keeping: “On entering a private dwelling, she was asked to sit near the fire, where some other ladies were seated but replied. ‘No, no ; you American ladies are very handsome, but you are 100 while. You sit down by a fire of your own making, and no glecPthe great fire that God has placed in the Heavens, which would give you health and a better color.” An English paper says that when Jenny Lind was travelling through Sweden, it was her custom, upon entering the theatre in the evening, to seize the first man she met with, carpenter, scene-shifter or gas man, and shake him by the thumb, in friendly token. This custom is not confined to Sweden. Walter Scott says of Rob Roy, to Bailie Nicol Jarvie—“There’s my thumb—l’ll ne’er beguile ye.” ROB CRT FCJIifON. The following reminiscence of Fulton’s first steam voyage, and the reception of his first passage money, was communicated to the Buffalo Commercial Advertiser, bv R. W. Haskins: “ Some twenty years since, 1 formed a travelling acquaintance upon a steamboat on the Hudson river, with a gentleman who on that occasion, related to me some incidents of the first voyage of L ul tou to Albany, in bis steamboat, the Clermont", which I never met with elsewhere. The gentleman’s name I have lost; but l urged him at die time, to publish what he re lated ; which, however, so far as I know, he has never done. ‘ I chanced,’ said mv narrator, ‘ to be at Albany on business, when Ful ton arrived their in bis unheard craft, which every body felt so much interest in seeing. Being ready to leu/e, and bearing that his craft was to return to New York, I repaired on board, and inquired for Mr. Fulton. 1 was referred to the cabin,and [ there found a plain, gentlemanly man, wholly alone, and engaged in writing— ‘ Mr. Fulton, i presume.’ ‘Yes sir.' — ‘Do you return to New York in this boat ? ’ ‘We shall try to get back sir.’ ‘ Can l have a passage down ? ’ ‘ You can take your chance with us sir.’ 1 inquired the amount to be paid, and, after a mo ment’s hesitation, a sum, J think six dollars, was named. The a inounl, in coin, I laid in bis open band, and, with an eye fixed upon it, he remained so long motionless that l supposed there must be a tniscouift, and said to hi;n, ‘ Is that right sir V ’ This roused him as from a kind of re very, and as lie looked up at me, a tear was trem bling in bis eye, and his voice fal tered as be said, ‘ Erxcuse me, sir, but memory was busy as 1 contem plated this, the first pecuniary re ward l have ever received for all my exertions “in adapting steam to navigation. 1 would gladly com memorate the occasion over a bot tle of wine with you, but really I am too poor, even for that, juit now ; vet l tri/st we may meet a gaiu, when this will not be so.’ Some four years after this, when the Clermont bad been greatly im proved. and two new boats made, making Fulton’s fleet three boats reg ularly plying between New York and Albany, l took passage in one of these for the latter city. The cabin in that day was below; and as 1 walked its length, to and fro, l saw 1 was very closely observed by one 1 supposed a stranger Soon, however, l recalled the fea tures of Mr. Fulton ; but without disclosing this, 1 continued my walk and waited the result. At length in passing his seat our eves met, he sprang to bis feet, and, eagerly sei zing my hand, exclaimed, ‘i knew it must be you, for your features have never escaped me; and al though lam still far lrom rich, yet L may venture that bottle now.’— It was ordered, and during its dis cussion Mr. F. ran rapidly but viv idly over bis experience of the world’s coldness and sneers, and of the hopes, fears, disappointments and difficulties, that were scattered through his whole career of discov ery, up to the very point ot his final crowning triumph, and which he so fully felt ill at lie had at last arrived. ‘And in reviewing all these,’ said lie, ‘ l have often recalled the occa sion, and interview we had at Al bany : and never have 1 done so, without its renewing iu my mind,the vivid emotion it originally caused — That seemed, and suit does seem to me, rheturning point in my des tiny—the dividing liuei between light and darkness, in my career upon earth ; tor it was the first, actu al recognition, of my usefulness to my fellow mend Such then were the events coupieu with the very dawn of steam navigation—a dawn so recent as to be still remembered by many—and such as Fulton there re lated them, were the early appre ciations, by the world, ot a discov* erv which has invaded all waters, causing a revolution in navigation which has almost literally brought the very ends of the earth in con tact. There is no necessary connection between genius and an aversion or contempt for any of die common du ties of life. To spend some fair por tion of every day in any matter of fact occupation is good for the high er faculties. St. Stephen’s porch, the ap proach to the New Houses-of Par liament, is quite finished. It will be reached by a noble flight of steps, the entire breadth of which extends forty feet into the body of Westmin ster Hall. The restoration of the fine roof of this Hall is commenced. The Texas Monument describes a stinging worm which has been noticed within a few weeks in the vicinity of Black Jack Springs. It is sluggish, has a great many feet, and looks like a little bunch of cot ton. The lives of the persons stung by it were, fora time supposed to be in danger. The pain is said to be intense. A subscription lias been started in Madrid tor a colossal monument to Columbus, and is fast receiving, says the Builder, the names of per sons of every rank. The situation chosen is on an elevated spot of Palos de Magner, opposite the con vent of St. Ann, whence Columbus started on his first adventurous ex pedition for the New World. The plan is to be open to all tlie artists of Europe for competition. The preliminary arrangements hint at a colossal statue twenty feet high, and groups surrounding it, (arming a base of forty feet in circumference. The statue to be of the finest Flo rentine bronze, and the pedestal of reddish granite. ‘The lowest esti mate o r the cost is £20,000. One of the) severest struggles in life is that between a proud spirit and an empty purse. A fresco painting, of the 19th century has been discovered on removing a coat of whitewash in the sacristy of the cathedral of Pay, France. The composition is an al legorical one, representing the Sci ences, and the work is pronounced by M. Merimee, one of the most important existing in France. The largest specimen of gold yet received in England from Cali fornia has just arrived. It weighs 20 lbs. 9 oz. and is valued at <£7oo. It is to figure in ibe Exhibition of ISSO. ‘l'lie Mineral Products of Eng land are to be represented in the Exhibition by specimens in accor dance with a catalogue issued bv the committee. The Frescoes of Anriibal Caracci j in the church of St. James at Rome, are to be removed to Madrid. A large collection of portraits of eminent men of the day, formed by the King of Prussia, has been re moved from his palace at Berlin to tlie marble palace at Potsdam. The fine front of the British Museum, just completed at an ex pense of several thousand pounds, is to be shut out from public view by a wall twelve feet high. This idea, however, lias been a* bandoned, and the orignal one of : iron railings in front of the building reverted to. The statues to beset up on the four pedestals in the line of the inclosure, will be those of Newton, Shakspeare, Milton, and Bacon —all by Westmacott. A por tion of the sculpture for the pedi ment, by the same artist, is comple ted. The desigh is lo represent the progress of man, from the time when “ wild in the woods the na ked savage ran,” up to the highest state of intellectual advancement. The taste for polychromy has seiz ed the trustees of this Institution, and we find the Athenaeum invehdi .... . . O ing lustily against “a garish and un meaning species of painted decora tion in process of perpetration” in the Egyptian Ilall. (fiiifnriiil iffirimiiiga. There is not a book on earth, so favorable lo all the kind, and all the sublime titled ions, or so un friendly to hatred and persecution, to tyranny, injustice, and every sort of malevolence asthe Bible, it breatjies nothing throughout, but mercy, and peace.— Beattie. Viewing y-ourselves, with all your imperfections, and failings, in a just light, you will rather he sur prised, at your enjoying so many good things, than discontented, be cause there are any, which you want. — Blair. The forms of die world disguise men, when abroad ; but within his own family, every man is known to be, what he truly is—in ail our intercourse then with others, par ticularly that which is closest, and most intimate, let us cultivate a peacable, a candid, a gentle, and friendly temper. Magnanimity, generosity’, and fortitude, are what all mankind ad mire. Modesty alway’s sits gracefully upon youth, it covers a multitude of faults, and doubles the lustre of every virtue, which it seems to hide, the perfections of men being like those flowers, which appear more beautiful when their leaves are a little contracted and folded up, than when they are full blown, and display themselves without any reserve to tlie view.— Seed. Superiority will remain—distinc tions will be preserved, though all of us must serve each other, while that service isdiflerentlv performed. Superiority has no sort of connex ion with idleness and uselessness. It may exempt us from the bodily fatigue of our inferiors—from their confinement and hardships—it may entitle some to the defference and submission of those about them ; but it by no means exempts any of us from all attention to the com mon good from all endeavors to promote it—by no means does it entitle any of us to live like so many drones, on the industry of^others, lo reap al! the benefit we can from j them, and be of none to them.— Boltin. Popular glory is a perfect co quette; her lovers must toil, feel every inquietude, indulge every caprice, and, perhaps, at last, be jilted for their pains. True glory, on the other hand, resembles a wo man of sense, her admirers must plav no tricks, the}? feel nO great anxiety, For they are sure, in the end, of being rewarded according to their merit. — Goidsmith. Our attachment to every object ; around us increases, in general, from the length of our acquaintance. ‘ I would not choose,’ says a French philosopher, ‘ to see an old post pulled up with which I had been long acquainted.’ Courier's Rhyming Better to M. Newton —My very dear friend, I am going to send, vvnat, when you have read, you may scratch your head, and say, I suppose there’s nobody knows, whether what I have got, be ruse or not ; by the tone and the time, it ought to be rhyme, but if it be, did ever you see, of late or yore, such a letter before? I have writ charily, not for popularity, but as well as I could, in hopes to do good, Sind if the receiver should say, to be sure, the gentleman’s muse, wears methodist shoes, you may know by her pace, and talk about grace, that she and her bard, have little regard, for taste and fashions, end ruling passions, and hoyden ing play, of the modern day, and though she assume a “borrowed plume, and now and then wear a tottering air, ’tis only her plan, to catch if she can, the giddy anti gay, as they go that way, by a production on a new construction, she has bailed her trap, in hopes to snap, all that may com#, with a sugar plum. — His opinion in this, will not be ambs. ‘tis-what I intend, my prin cipal end, and if I succeed, and folks should read, till a few are brought, to a serious thought, l shall think I am paid, for all I have said, and all 1 have done, though 1 have run, many a time after a rhyme, as far as from hence, to the end of my sense, and by hook or by crook, write another book, if I live and am here, another year. I have heard before, of a room with a floor, laid upon springs* and such like things, with so much art, in every part, that when you went in, you were forced to be gin, a minuet [race, with an air and a grace, swimming about, now in an now out, with a deal of state, in a figure of eight, without paper or string, or any such thing, and now I have writ, in a rhyming fit, what will make you dance, and as you advance, will keep 3-011 still, though against your will, dan cing away, alert and gay, fill you come to an end, of what 1 have penned, which that Vbu may do, ere madam and you, are quite worn out, with jiggling about. I take my leave, and here you receive, a low profound, down lo the ground, from humble me, W. C. A few days ago and the sum mer of the year was grateful, and every element was filled wiih life, and ihe sun of heaven seemed to glory in his ascendant. lie is now enfeebled in his power; the des ert no more “ blossoms like the rose,” the song of joy, is no more heard among the branches, and the earth is strewed with that foliage which once bespoke the magmfi cenceof summer. Whatever may lie the passions which society has awakened, we pause amid this ap parent dissolution of nature. We set down in the lodge “of the wav faring man in the wilderness,” anti we feel that all we witness, is the emblem of our own fate, such al so, in a few years will be our own Condition, ‘idle blossoms of our spring—ihe pride of our summer, will also fade into decav, and the pulse that now beats high with vir tuous or wiih vicious design, will gradually sink, and then mast stop forever. — Alison. We take tho follow ing queries from an exchange and should be pleased to publish answers to them. ll’anls. —’t’he key that wound up thecity watch. Some hair and a few teeth from the head of a nail. The scissors used to trim the lamp of life. Some feathers plucked from the wings of love. A Daguerreotype of the man who took time by the forelock. One of the hinges off Pandora’s boxof evil Several staves belonging to the barr td of a musket. Some powder and balls from a shooting star. The whip used to lash the waves into fury. Some splinters knocked off the North Pole. A piece of cloth taken from the cap of the knee. Some hairs from the mane and tail of a hoarse voice. A sample of the light derived from a ray op hope. Some quicksilver off the back of the mirror of nature. Some stones picked up on the down hill of life. Some seeds from the apple of discord. Some money lately issued by the pepper mint. FRIEND OF THE FAMILY. K. J. (Try PRATER —■■ ‘ ‘ * Proceedings of Council. SA\ ANN AH, November 21, 155 , Council met. Present, Bis Honor, R. Wnyne, Aldermen P„ SBy , Turm .„ Mnllnry, s c T ‘ Gnffin, Cumining,Walker, Cohen „„ d The Minutes of the last meelia, T rend and confirmed. b e,e The Information and Fine Docker* read and confirmed. vvpr ® Pail ions. The Petition of the Residents of c ‘ Row. praying Council to place a Gas t!T’ midway in front of said Row. was read P on motion of Alderman Griffin, referre,r the Committee on Gas. The Petition of George J, Spencer mg to bo appointed a Measurer and rj Ur of Lumber for the city of Savanr T C -ni, ami oo inn,inn, he wss nns„ Resolutions Read and Adopted By Alderman Posey. Resolved, That the City Treasurer bed reeled to pay to the Contractors f or bail r | t!ie Powder Magazine, the balance of claim, the work being finished. ! B r Turner, se c <,„' dedb A man Walker. 1 *'“*“*’ Thnt ,he Oil. Marshal , dw t,eo l>nd offer for s,de “ n *nhe usual saner nitendence, tho unsold lot. in Chatham a,„l | Monterey Wards. Reports. To Dr. J. P. Scrkven, J Chairman of the Committee on Dry Cvlhtrt Sir : : I have inspected the Lands subjected to Dry Culture, and respectfully submit my re port: The lands of Mr. Benjamin Snider ! and Mr. Bilbo, are in good order; Mr. La mar's lands are dry at present, but no im provement in binks or ditches; Maj. Stark is now engaged in repairing his banks, but a portion oi ffis tract is yet subject to the ebb and flow of the tides ; Col. Green’s and M r . King's lands are in good order; the lands bor dering on the west of the city remain pre cisely as reported in my last; no better nor worse. Respectfully submitted. WM. A. POLLARD, i. D . c. Savannah Nov. 18, 1850. The City Treasurer submitted bis report I upon the returns of the City Officers, for i October, 18-30. Amount of Accounts passed, 81413,34. On motion of Alderman Griffin, Council adjourned until 10 o’clock, A. M., Tuesday next. EDW ARD G. WILSON, C.C. ! THE MIDI) OF THE Fill SA VANN All, NOV.EM 13ER 23,1850. Cologne Water. We have to congratulate ourself upon the frequent accession to our Toilette of the j odoriferous. Our thanks are due, and we | most respectfully tender them, to Mr. Win. Humphreys, Druggist, for a specimen of Co logne Water, of his own manufacture, and 4 give it as our candid opinion, that it is in eve ry respect, a first rate article, and having, in addition to this, the recommendation of being made at Home, should most certainly be patronized. Try it. EiP We take pleasure in calling the at ! tention of the public to the esti-b is-hment of | tlie Messrs. Bunt/., Ship-Smiths and Boiler i Makers. Home mechanics, industrious, ca pable, and most reliable, they deserve in creased and increasing patronage. The present change in the public sentiment i greatly in favor of our mechanics, and must tend to the general prosperity of our p* pie. Every body now wants to have their work executed at home, wh ch was just the reverse a little while ago, when our people laboring under the almost fatal delusion, that nothing could be well done or done so cheap at home, invariably carried it North. Ex perience, however, that best teacher ot true wisdom, has at length pointed out the falla cy of such notions, and it is now pretty gen erally believed to be quite as cheap to hove work well done at ouce, ns to pay for the repairing of what has been badly executed* It cannot but be considered utterly impoli tic to enrich others at the sacrifice of our i own impoverishment, and yet this has been the plan pursued up to the present t' n,e ’ our money was thus unnecessarily lavished upon the North. The Cadets of Temperance. In a recent conversation with the paf ’ - we were informed that the lads were pl easet * with our suggestion of getting up a librarv. but did not possess the means of doing so, as the amount received for initiation h ,eS and dues, were barely sufficient to pay cl,r rent expenses. That he believed it ‘ voU add to the interest and zeal of those Bl re ® * members, and induce others to join, feasible plan of carrying it out could be nfi ted. . We suggest the following, let the 1 sion.appoint a committee at their nex f 1 ing, and Jet thnt committee solicit <k> nat ‘ iri books from Sons of Temper* lllo0 ’ those friendly to the caifse, ant K et cadet solicit a contribution of a book, - zine, or paper, from his parents,.* 1 ” word for it, they will soon get a choice library. Come boys go to work, ‘ re give you “ The Friend,” and three o* ■ , in e%cbanS f ’ nice little papers, we receive in so there’s a beginning. The cadets 1 in contemplation to change the time o ing to the afternoon. Officers of the Southern Mutual Insurance Co* ;: .i* The American Mechanic of the ‘ j snj’s, tlie Board of Directors of tb‘ s tion at their recent Convention, hel ens, made choice of the followin o for the ensuing year: Asbury Hull, President and Ti* ’ Albon Chase, Secretary. Charles F. McCay, Actualy- William Bass, Book-Keeper. J. U. Parsons, General Ag* nt ’
