The South-west Georgian. (Oglethorpe, Ga.) 1851-18??, July 03, 1851, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

; 7 -&g m tlj- ‘to ell*. © cotgiaw, YOUNGBLOOD & ALLEN,toorietors. ! % ‘ VOL. I. ■Pißia @3a®3E®a^3BSir I, Published every Thursday Morning, in Ike new Town of Oglethorpe, Macon County, Ga„ CHARLES B. YOUNGBLOOD, Publisher. EGBERT \T. ALLEN, TRAVELING AeENT. TERMS—S 9 Per Pear in advance RATES OF ADVERTISING. One Dollar per aqu&re (of 12 lines or lex) for the first asertion, and Fifty Cents for each insertion thereafter. A liberal deduction will be made to those who adver tise by the year. Advertisements not specified as to time, will be pub lished till ordered out and charged accordingly. UNION FOREVER. BY F. J. OTTERSON. “ Liberty and Union now and forever, one and inseparable.” (Copied from the Fort Gains ‘Southern Enterprise.’) Storm-lost and strained our Ship of State Was laboring in the gale, The blasting breath of brother's hato Was shivering every sail, — Despair upon her quaking crew Was tracking out her doom, And o’er their blanching faces tlnew The pallor of the tomb ! Our an sinus eyes along her deck A pilot sought in vain,— Disunion shrieks above the wreack We feared would strew the main; The last fund Hope had nearly died In every Patriot’s bieast, When rose the Pilot, true and tried— Our Harry of the West! Forth hurst from every honest tongue A thunder drowning cheer, — High o’er the raging storm it ilung Defiance to our fes*r; The Stars and stripes as brightly beamed Their lusture as of yore. And ‘mid the baffled lightnings streamed The Union at the fore 1 Through all the old ship’s timbers ran The pulsing tin ills of life; She knew the firm hand of the Man Who always ruled the strife; And, hounding at his magic work, She spurned the rocks a-lee, While through the swelling canvass stirred The breeze of Liberty ! Though dark the sky, and rough the wave, Iler perils she forgets,— f She sees above her threatened grave The ‘Star that never sets;” And not the fiercest storm can xvrecd, Or wildest wave o’whelrn— Who ever treads her quarter deck— If Harry's at the helm ! The brave old ship God bless her ! Come freemen, pledge me this— Boili North and South possess her— , The Union as she is !* , Whatever bo-** “ ‘ WboWW the 1 WejjT Breaitiw*^j' ril( jn down ‘Tfyueaf en we never will! The Rich Man. BY J. W. WHITFIELD. The Rich Man thinks his gold his own, And all his gold can bring; The rich man thinks, when thus he thinks, Avery foolish thing. He builds a palace, beautiful; The graceful columns rise, And while he thinks them all his own, They glad a thousand eyes. He spreads his floral garden round— The roses bud and bloom; But with himself we all enjoy Their beauty dnd perfume. His noble charged paw and prance— The Rich Man’s ;heart is proud; Hs sees them with one pair, of eyes, But thousands hive the crowd. [ 1 His parlor walls are loaded down Wjjh gems of aq— to please he thinks—to please, in truth, The poorest man that sees. The’stately hall, the cultured grove— The park with pebbled way— The leaping font that sweetly sings, For these he haMo pay. And pay that other eyes may gaze And feast without a care; The joy Is ours—the task his own To please them and prepaie. Brooklyn April, 1851. J have great averspsw/toauburn locks ai the criminal said Wlien he look a cell in j the Auburn prjjon. f A Singular Coincidence. Thomas Tom pWn3was|g confirmed old bachelor and had reached"*)* mature age of forty, without the of what is termed ‘bettering his coridi* lion,’ He watt very sly of womankind, j and imagined that every lady who glanc* 1 ed at him casually, had designs upon his purse and person. it was this gentleman, a quiet, digni fied, portly, and bald-headed personage, who got into the mail stage at Washington, one pleasant summer morning, to travel to Baltimore, having business in a small village a little beyond. Among his traveling companions was a wild young reefer, under orders to join the flag-ship of the Mediterranean squad ron, and a middle aged Englishman, not the best tempered nor the best mannered person in the world. To set his two sen iors by the ears together was the especial business of the middy, who was as mis chievous as a monkey, and so succeasful was he in his operations that he not only succeeded in embroiling the pepperv John Bull and the quiet bacheloi, but he started up a ‘point of honor’ between them, and when Tompkins went to bed at Baltimore at night, it was with the comfortable assurance that he was to stand up and be shot at, at Blandensburg the nest morning at sunrise, precisely, the middy ‘seeing fair* between the parlies. Just |above the spot where Gen. Ross fell, the parties met, a little after five. The midshipman loaded the pistols ami placed his men. Both were rather shaky on their legs, the Englishman’s indigna tion having evaporated over night, and Tompkins never having been troubled with any excess of belligerent spirits. •Fire!’ Bang! bang! went the pistols. When the smoke cleared, Tompkins was seen standing, the Englishman lay rolling and writhing on the ground, blood flowing from his forehead. ‘You’ve done for him,’ said the middy, addressing the horror stricken Tomp kins. The dying man beckoned his adversa ry to approach, ‘it’s half my owu r auh,’ said he. ‘FIv! fly! and leave me alone to die. Yet take this letter. Summer ville—vile ’ouse top of the ’ll—hold, Dr. Blodget’s—take ’im this letter it tells all about it. If I’d ’ave lived l vas to “ave But he could speake no more and the midshipman hurried oft* the Ijotnicide. From the incoherent words, of his victim the horror stricken, Totupkinsgathered that he was to call at Dr. Blodgef s, in Summerville, and deliver the letter; and thitherward bent his steps, in as pitiable condition as the dying man. He soon fonnd the cottage, a pretty residence, embowered in trees and orna mented with several distinguished darkies who were standing round the door-yard, grinning to the extent of their respective ivories. Before he had time to ring the bell, an impulsive old gentleman in black rushed out. Tompkins mechanica|ly ex tended the letter, not having courage enough at his command to utter a word ‘I see—J see,’ said the impulsive little old gentleman who was no other than Dr. Blodget himself. ‘Tompkins, eh! give me your hand. ‘Forbear there’s blood upon it!’ said the wreched Tompkins. ‘Blood! nonsense!’ said the Doctor. ‘Come along; my daughter’s waiting, and so are the bridesmaid and parson, you dog.’ ■But sir, what has this to do with me?’ ‘With you! why, isn’tyour name Thos. Tompkins?’ ‘Certainly.’ ‘So this letter says. Do you pretend that you havn’t come to fulfill the ar rangement made by your father to marry my daughter, whom you havn’t seen since you and she were boy and girl? Come along—are you crazy?’ ‘I believe I am,’ stammered poor Tompkins, who was astonished at every thing he heard, ‘i believe lam crazy.’ ‘Tommy!’ said the old gentleman, sternly, ‘/believe you have been stopp ing at the hall-way house.’ ‘Not a drop, Doctor, as 1 live.’ ‘Come along, then, And the Doctor hurried in his victim. He was soon in the presence of the bride and her relations. There were flowers in porcelain vases, cake and wine upon the table, and music in the hall. Miss | Emma Blodget opened her arms, and the I Doctor pushed Tommy into them. OGLETHORPE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 3, 1851. As soon as he could extricate himself which he did, Blushing with confusion, Tompkins stammered out, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, you see before you an unltap , py wretch.’ fc ‘An unhappy wretch!’ shouted the lits Me Doctor; ‘What do you mean by that ‘Tftnimy Tompkins.’ T-Wtour son-in-law is dead!’ said Tomp kins. the Doctor. ‘You tell me that with(j|pur own mouth?’ ‘Certainly.* ‘Yon don’t lawk as if you were dead, though,’ said winking at the clergyman. ‘Cornell r. Spintext, let’s nave it over. Ernma-ajgXpmmy—stand up here, like good children?> Tompkins darted one wild him, and then darted through the open window into the concervatory.’ ‘Stop him!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘There tro my camelias and rhododendrons! Now he’s into the Hamburgs! Now, then, Sambo. Alt! you’ve got him. Hold him tight.’ The wretched Tompkins was captured and brought back by a tall African. ‘Now, then, Mr. Spintext—Emma, hold him tight—know all men by these presents, iic.—quick, sir—you solemnly swear,’ &c. And thtis prompted, the clergyman performed his office, and 1 homas Tomp kins fownd himself a married man. ‘7 wish he muttered to himseif as he dipped wildly into the cake and Madeira, ‘that the confectioner and wine merchant had a spite against the Doctor, and had come the arsenic and aquafortis business strong. If I could only drop down dead now, it would be extremely soothing to my feelings.’ In his desperation he acted and spoke as if he were in a dream. He saiq funny things without inteuding them,-kissed the bridesmaid several times over, slapped Dr. Blodget on the hark, and called him a ‘jolly old buffer,’ and once even addres sed the black waiter as ‘Snowball,’ an ex* quisite and original pleasantry which con vulsed tlie,gorjjpany with laughter. But the wildest dream must have an ends In the midst of the maddest mirth, a double knock was heard at the door, and a servant announced Mr. Thomas Tompkins. ‘This another of your jokes, you mad wag,’ said the Doctor, winking at his son-in-law; and a very small bridesmaid in blue slippers gve it as her opinion that Tompkins would be the death of them. But the door opened, and in stalked the Englishman, followed by his second. .Take him away!’ yelled our hero.— ‘Bury him decently. Thai’s what he’s after. Give him a sexton and let him go about his business. We want no post mnnems here.’ ‘Don’t he alarmed,’ said the midship man. ‘Blank cartridges and bullocks’ blood don’t send men to the other world.’ fDoctor,’ said the Englishman, ‘you re ceived my letter of introduction from the ’ands of this—this person—did you not?’ ‘Yes—and I thought it was Thomas Tompkins,’ said the distracted Doctor. ‘That is my name,’ said the bridegroom in spite of himself. “And miue halso,,’ said the English man. “What’s to be done ?’ asked the Doc tor. “Emma, my dear, what do you say to being married over again?’ ‘Oh! no, papa! it’s too much trouble; I’m very well satisfied,’ said the bride. ‘1 don’t see that we can do anything for you,’ said the Doctor, mildly, to the new comer, ‘unless one of these young ladies ’ But they nil shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads. •Sorry for you, for you’re the son of an old friend’ said the Doctor. ‘But you’ll stay and take dinner with us.’ •i’ll me you for a breach of promise, vlled the cot-j|ey, shaking his fist at the bride. ‘That lady is under my protection,’ said tha bridegroom- ‘She shall not be insulted. Clear out.’ ‘Clear out!’ shouted the indignant fath er. ‘Clear out!’ echoed all the gentlemen. ‘it is a conspiracy,’ shouted the cock* ney. ‘Come along,’ said the midshipman. ‘Dont make a fool of yourself. Come aloug.’ OUR COU NTRY'S GOOD 18 OVRS. Pulled, pushed and shoved, the indig nant gentleman was ejected from the Doc tor’s cottage; and the feat accomplished, die wedding company sat down to dinner, at which the singular coincidence in the names of the parties formed a principal topic of the discussion. The result of this odd affair was a suit brought by the cockney; hut he lost his rase, and went home to England in the full determination to write a honk against this country which should out-trollope the Trollope. Written for the N. Y. Weekly Sun. “There are as many Fortunes to be made there ever were.” BY ROSWELL ALLEN. f?j%jAboui fifteen years ago a rouple of young men, after the business of the day was over, pot on their coats, and, went to their boarding house to lea. They were bpok binders, and expert, competent workmen, /ntelligent, ups right, industrious, and temperate, they were well suited to each other, and with habits of economy which kept them from squandering their surplus earnings in the amusements and vices which sink so large an amount of workingmen’s capital every year in this city; each had accumulated a considerable sum which drew interest in the Chambers street Savings Bank. After tea Robert proposed to his friend that they should take a walk, and putting on their hats they were soon strolling up Hudson street and lured until they reach ed the Parade Ground, where they sat down upon one of the benches to enjoy the sheltering shades of the trees which a dorn the squre. The advantages of the rich, the lot of the working-man, and the troubles of the poor, were talked over as they looked over at the large mansions which face towards the square. The nd envy mingled in their conversation; they did not complain of their lot, and give ut terance to the follies of which many are guilty, who fancy that fortune are always obtained by oppression and wrong from the sweat of the laborer. They knew that some of the men who reside in those houses had started in the world single-handed, and had been the architectsh of thiernwn fortunes, and that world was as open to one as to another. ‘But,’ said Harry, ‘the times were bet ter then than now, for a man to make a fortune. Circumstances were very much in a man’s favor. The city was small.— Properly could be had for a low price, which by the mere growth of the city has greatly increased in value, and this way many of the present fortunes have been made.’ > ‘ Fhat’s nothing said Robert.’ ‘There ’ are as man fortunes to be made as there i ever were, and I mean to have mine!’ ‘Well raid Bob, but how are you go. • ing to get it?’ ’ ‘The way other men do, that start for themselves. lam not always going to ’ work for another man., ,A re you going into business ?’asked 1 Harry. ‘I expect I shall when I see a good chance. But I shant be in too big a hur ry. Rome wasn’t built in a day.’ ’Sure enough, Bob; but perhaps if Rome had not been started just when it was, it might not have been built at all.’ ’Perhaps so, and perhas if it had not been started when it was, some other builder would have done it on better ground or guided by beter principles. At any rat®, I shall be on the look out, and try my fortune a* well as the rest of them. I shall keep on trying till I get it. •Bravo! bravo! Bob! If you keep up your courage you may do something —but you are 100 sanguine.* ‘We must all be sanguine enough to have some hope. But 7 am not sanguine in the sense you mean. When a ‘builder lays the foundation of a house, he knows (hat to finish it he mnst have materials, skill, and labor, He is not sanguine be cause he expects to have his house finish ed in a given lime. And so 7 look at it. A man who has a good foundation can build a fortune almost as surely as a man can build a house.’ ‘Why, Bob, you make getting rich quite an every day affiair. You would do a service to the world just to let your system he known. ‘I have no system but that which is already known and followed by thou sands.— The true foundation of a successful life is virtue—by which I mean the strictest obe dience to every moral law. You know my principles well—and what is better, you know my practice. Virtue, morali ty, and religion are the only true founda tion for life. Let a man build upon them and if lie has common sense and prudence, he need not fear of success.’ * Well, then, why don’t more men suc ceed ?’ ‘Because they overshoot the mark.— Their lives may be blameless, as fr as morals are concerned, but they lack pru dence, foresight, caution—or it they have them they violate their commands. They are in mo great a hurry. Patience, Har ry; patience is a great thing in making a lasting fortune. A house built in a hurry will not stand as long as one built as it should he. The limbers’will wrap, the walls crack, the joints will break, and it will be torn down long before icC-ould be if built properly at first. Ju\ book which is properly boned will\ , last a dozen stuck together in a will hardly hold together through one reading.’ ‘True enough, Robert; but see how many men fail who appear to be doing well.” •Thai’s the trouble, Harry ; they ap pear to be doing well, and find out some day, before they think of it, that , they have been really plunging into dificnlty; I know more than one m.an who has floated along swimingly, until some trifling cir- happened, which showed that the case was just the opposite. Men are too apt to court appearances rather then to gel the substance which appearances will afterwards adorn * ‘Well, what would you do, then ?’ ‘Wait till I could begin right. The foundation of life being laid, the struc ture must be properly put together.— Dont you know that there are many work men who can bind a book well, or who can lay wall well, who would be unfit to become master-builders or master- bind ers, because they have not the skill or the practical judgement which is required to manage the operations of others !’ ‘1 have seen such,’ said Harry, with a halfaverted glance, as though he surmi sed there was a fitness in the allusion to himself. ‘Well, then 7 shall wait until I have acquired experience and knowledge in my business as a journeyman —for an ap prentice has not learned his trade be* cause he is out of his time—and w ith (his additional qualification, and the capital I have saved, 1 shall start and go ahead.’ ■Bill suppose you miss your figure?’ ‘Tut that 1 Shan’t do, Harry; 1 will not rim the risk of missing any figures. I shall start according to my means; and not go beyond them. As long as 7 keep on dry land I can’t get into deep water.’ ‘That is a good rule to work by, but see how long it will take you to get a fortune !’ ‘lt makes no matter how long. 1 have to work frr a living any how, and it is better to work on the safe side and be independent in twenty or thirty years, than to push beyond my depth and fail in five or ten with a load of debt which must go unpaid or take ten Years to wipe out.’ ‘You’re in the rieht of it, Bob; if you only have patience to go through with it. You know my principles are much like your own, in fact, that is why we have formed such a friendship; but then you know I want to go faster than you do,’ ‘I know'ii, and that is the dnngerjyou have to guard against. If you undertake busi ness you will likely run into difficulty, unless you exercise very great caution. It takes a skillful captcin to steer a fast sailing craft on a lee shore, or through a narrow channel.’ ‘That’* true, Boh; and I have been think ing that a judicious partner will be a desira ble thing for me if I can go into business.’ ‘To be candid Harry, I think you have taken a right view of the mutter. With a cnolheaded, sound man, you will be safe.— As to your ability in the shop tliere is no doubt.’ ‘Very well, Bob; I’ll take you!’ ‘Take me I wlmt do you mean 1’ ‘Mean 1 Why I mean that we shall go in to business together 1 ‘Well, Harry; I am obliged to you for the choice, but I am not ready yet.’ ‘Oh ves, you are; we both have some money, and we may as well start as you say, I will agree to abide by your decisions in the management of the business.’ ‘Vety well, then; I am satisfied with you if you will promise not to be too hotheaded.’ ‘I promise that,’ said Harry. ‘How much money hnveyou ? asked Rob ert. The amount was given, Robert stated his. Estimates were made of the cost of figures, pteiscs, tools, dies, and a few bills of stuck | TERMS: $2 in Advance. —amounting to about what they had on hand. In one year more, said Robert; we shall have several hundred dollars apiece saved by close economy from this years work at our shop. This with the interest of what we have, will give us a cash capital to do busi ness on. Then we will start. ‘But Bob; why wait so long. Say six months, said Harry. I think not. We shall start at a season of the year when trade is good. We cannot start now. It would not be safe. We shall meantime be on the watch for a good loca tion, and making calculations for business and becoming better acquainted with prices and markets. We must wait. Harry saw that his friend was right. Arm in-arm they returned home, filled with their proposed plans. Harry occasionally renewed his arguments for an early commencement, but Robert overcame them by his sounder and better reasoning. Nearly a year had passed, when a newly painted sign placed over a door in -■ —■ ■ street announced that & , were prepared to receive orders for book-binding. The names of these two young men had be come known in the trade, as well as among their friends for their workmanship, and their industry and integrity, and it was not long before an extensive publisher was in duced to give them a large and handsome job. It was done to entire Promptly executed, and turned out of||}iop in wurkmanlike manner, they soon rwlgfcived an other order, and jULtbe work wns exam gxpod by another lique>e, they were recommen ded to give the new binders a trial.; work thus accumulated, and at the end of the year they found that their profits amounted to a consid* etablesum. As business increased they ex tended their opetatioul, and by strict atten tion, they gradually reached an influen tial position in the tiade. Harry occasion ally displayed an anxiety to trade fasttr than prudence would nlow ! but with a virtuous confidence in his friend Robert, lie made it a rule after an earnest argument on his side, to abide by his decision.— Robeit’s caution kept the business from un safe speculator, or 100 hasty strides, into what lie called deep watci; and the concern is new the honorable and well known estab ment of & , the parteners in which are on the tax list for over $30,000 each. Robert says occasionally, as lie talks fa, miliarly to his own woikmen, There are at many fortunes to be made as there ever were—l am going to have mine! Harry lauglus, and thoughtfully puts his hands in pockets, asthougli be carried his own about with him. Most Amusing Scene—A few weeks since while court was sitting at Paris, in Littnar county Texas, and while the tav ern of Mr. Tucker was filled with lawyers litigants, witnesses, &ic, a robery was committed upon the premises, attended with mnst ludicrous circumstances. Mr. Tucker and his numerous guests retired to their beds at the usual hour, and after a night of profound and undisturbed slum ber awoke, every mother’s son of them coatless and pantaloonless—some daring thief hud abstracted and carried off every rag of clothing belonging to every soul in the house. The Bonham Advertiser intimates that when the fact was known, and the thing understood, a series of la* bleaux vivants, of the most ludicrously interesting nature, were offered by the garmentless lodgers, the sufferers ihem selvs lauging lung and heartily at the ridiculous figurs each other cut while shy* ing and dohging about in serch of their missing clothing. It was not long, how* ever, before the missing garments were found stacked in the public square, whith er the burglar had carried them ;and now came the serious feature of the business —every pocket had been rummaged, eve* ry red cent taken, all were emty. Sev eral emigrants had Install thir money, and the lawyers attending the court were re duced to a par with the clients who had the day before lined their pockets tor them. Some four hundred and odd dol lars was the neat profit of that particular night’s work to the enterprising projector, who got entirely off undetected.—Pica yune. A Good Trick. — ‘My son,’ laid a father, ‘take that jug, and fetch me some beer.’ ‘Givg me the money, then, father.’ i ‘My son, to get beer with money, any body run do that, but to get beer without i money, that's a trick. So the boy takes ’ the jug, and out he goes. Shortly, he 1 returns, and places the jug before his fatha er. ! ‘Drink,’ said the son, ‘How can J drink,’ says the father, ‘when there is no beer in the jug?’—- ‘To drink beer out of a jug’ says the , boy, ‘w here there it beer, anybody can , do that; but to drink beer out of a jug i where there is uobcer, that’s a trick!’ NO 12