Newspaper Page Text
tnUTittL If POLITICS A R ELIGIOtf—DIiVOT .1> TO \ 111 Ilf IlHjil ,1 jTtltl I III! >1 I II I AND TIIC X l)V AWC OF SALALD
B. F. WHITE, Supk RINTCBENT. 1
fT*
. v - 7 f
F'Oin the Cbrisiian Teffkraph
A GEORGIA §CEfE ;
/ i’GR A SKETCH OF JACK HARDiN’s FAMILY
By C. Hi C Willingham.
We are now about to describe a family
feared in those parts of Georgia where
the genial influences of education “have
tiof been materially felt. In this attempt,
We shall endeavor to use the vernacular
language of the people inhabiting those
jparU and tq_show the corrupt dialect
•and more particularly, the bad govern-’
tnent in families, where Hie light of edu
cation fi3s not shone, vThe scenes may j
appear laughable to some of our readers,
t>ut it is a lamentable fact that there are
portions of onr beloved State where edu
cation is sadly neglected.
In the fall of 1830, John Hardin was j
married to Miss Tabitlm Smith. a*ftormte j
iass of some eighteen summers. They
had been brought up in the backwoods,
end were very poor ; and, according to
lhe old saving, • had to commence from
nothing’ to * make a start in the world.’
John, like the most of our Southern blades,
was of first rate inetnl—we mean in the
wav of hard work. He coul|l split as
fnanv tails, chop as much wood, gather
as much cotton, and, in a word, was as
good a farmer as any body. Tabitha. j
was. in one of our slang phrases, a girl
* that would <to <0 tie to,’ and not ugly
at that. She could bake as good a ‘ corn
■dodger,’ or boil as nice • a pot of baton
and cabbages,’ as any body’s wife; and
there was not a girl ‘in all the beat,’
that could spin as much cotton jarn,
weave as much cloth, of all stripes ard
patterns, and tame as many heifers to the
milking pail, a< Tabby Smith. In fact,
Tabbv c**ntVe of admiration of
the whole™ettlement’ in which she liv
ed. All the ‘ boys,’ far and near, were
aspirins, to Tabby’s hand; but as Jack
Hardin proved to be the fastest in the
cotton or harvest fifjd. the swiftest at
foot firing, j ump the farthest and last.
.j*,*and the handsomest young man in
p.fe list of rivals, he Was of course, the
successful one
As We before itemarked, thTv had just
heen married ; and the next thing that
demanded their attention was to lo>lg out
for a home. John, ib common, with
most young men of his ‘settlement’ was
the master of ‘ a right smart stump of a
pony.* Elated with the reality of being
the husband of Tabby Smith, and fired
up with the ambition of having • a home of
his own.’ he saddled his Macaroni ami
Jut out to look him 4 a piece ,of land.’—
ack rode about fifty miles before he con
cluded he ‘liked the country.’ It was
five miles from any settlement; and in
the midst of howling wolves and scream
ing panthers. Here Jack pictured in his
mind, a nice little log house with his Tab
by as its mistress; here he pictured rust
ling corn and white headed children ad
a growing fortune ; here he pictured him
self a monarch of one hundred acres,—
Time passed, and the land was Jack’s.—
He reared his log cabin with a ‘ stick and
dirt chimney,’ and daubed the crevices
with clay, and was ready to receive Tab
by to her home, and to domestic happi
ness
It was a bright and lovely mofhing
about the first of October ; the sbv Was
clear and blue and not a cloud hung he
nea<h the high arched heavens; the voices
of ihe yeomnnry echoed from hill to hill
like sounds of the sweetest melody; .and
“Bature seemed to exist in
monv all around; and ah! there was
happy Jack and his soft, bine-eyed Tab
by about to launch their barks on the sea
of matiimonial and domestic happiness.
Hut, a few minutes more and behold !
See that silver haired sire ! See that
mother bending with age! See their
eyes; a tear in each is starting from a
fountain of love! Thpv are about to
pronounce a good bye* to the ‘main stake’
of their household. Tabbv is about to
leave them forever. The oxen were
yoked and the cart loadpd, and were
ready to start, and the old. man brushes
the tear from his pheek, and with a swell
ing heart, and at the same time joining
the hands of the young and happy couple
within his own, says—
* Well my dear children, you arejoin
ed lor life ! Be faithful to yourselves and
to one another, and I'll warrant you’ll
live happy. Be industrious and save
what you make over a support. And,’
continued the old man, patting Jack upon
the head, ‘ I assure you, you have a wile
that knows how to work) end can do any
THE ORGAN.
amount ot it; and as to v<)ii r Jack, 1 am
peifpclly satisfied with you, I’ve known
y.ui from a boy. and have never kn -wn
a harmlul word of you in my life. De
pait rn peace, and may the blessing of
God r.-st-upon vou both ‘*
Hardin ami his wife were on their jour*
joey, ami night overtook them about half
waV to their plaCe of destination. Here
sheltered by nothing, save the canopy .of
Heaven, they made their bed upon the
cold ground and spent the night.
HtrHip and his wife were at home.—
Their furniture consisted of a bed and
bedstead, a small table, tour common split
bottom spinning w'heel, and a pair
• of cottou cards,-and such Crockery and.
hardware and other little articles as they
\ could make out with. Hardin labored
.incess’aofjy all the winter, and by. spring
* he had cleared a considerable field, and
enclosed it under a lefice. His crop was
planted, and he cultivated it well, and in
1 the fall gathered enrich return of his la
| hors, and a stranger was added to the
family, and Mpeat I to do’ was made as
to w hat shaiwd be his name.
Now, Mr. Hardin, I think we should
name him “ John Thomas ; that’s such a
pretty name,\ says Mrs. Hardiu about
three weeks after his birth
‘Oh t no. Jam going to name him af
ter Gin'ral Washington • It shall be
George Wathfygtotyif 1 have anything’to
do with it;. and I think I have as much
right tojnm* him as anybody,’ returned
the voting falser.
Well, th*‘ child Was named in honor
of the * father of'jhis country,’ and every
body was sppaking in terms of praise of
the ‘infant Gin’ral.’ as hp was called. He
was caressed kissed and dangled about
oft every hand ; and the parents thought
there was nothing like their ‘little Gin
’ral ’ He was twelve months old, and a
pair of red shoes was purchased and put.
upon his ‘little feet.’ One. parent was
not satisfied while he was in the arms ol
The other, ‘0 come to papa,’ says the
father. ‘0,,n0! sonnv, you won’t leave
your mother. I- fceow.’ Finalfy, bv the
persuasions and importunity of the father;
the 4 little, Gin’ral’ extends hi# little out
stiftchrd arms to him. The mother I
presses him closely to her bosom, and
says ‘don’t go; don’t leave mother;’
ftnd the little fellow withdraws his tin\
hands from his anxious father, a*ul repos
es his flaxen head upon his mother’s
throbbing brea-t. and hides his little mink
ish face in her bosom.
The father defeated, leaves lhe house
and starts off in a whistle to his wmk.—
The winter evenings were spent in ca
ressing the ‘ little Gin’ral.’ Jack spent
the days in the improvement of his farm,
and his wife whiled A” ay the dreary even
ings at her cauls and spinning w heel
The summer passed, and another crop
was made and gathered.
‘ Well. Mr Hardin, as yO;t ust have
your way in every thing, let what
you are going to name the baby ■ ’
‘ Well—l—don’t know,’ drawled < tit
Hardin. ‘l’ve not thought much i‘>oj;l
it veh But. wouldn’t Thomas Ji fjfer-on
be a pre’ty name ? Yes, that's the name
I intend to name v all our boys after big
men.’
Mr-'. Hardin blushed, and after consid
erable hesitation said—
* Suppose we name it alter Dr Frank
lin ; |>e was a great man. Won’t you
agree to that ?’ said Mrs.'Hardin, rather
enthusiastically!
‘ Well Tabbv. t reckon we must hSrhe
him alter Dr. Franklin ; and as I named
| the o'her you mav name this one ’
Fifteen years rolled around, and Har
din’s farm grew largpr and increased in
production. He was the sire of nine
children ; seven sons and two daughters,
who-e names were: Geo'ge Washington,
Benjamin Franklin, Mary Jane, Thomas
Jefferson, Andrew Jackson. Sarah Ann,
Francis Marion, John Hancock and Al
exander Hamilton.
Mr. Hardin, by this time, was in pos
session of aright handsome property.—i
But. he had his hands full—his boys were j
unruly and hard to govern. Mr. Hardin
was a very caieless man with his children.
He humored them when young and they
still looked for it.
Benjamin.—Mother,|f wish you would
make Wash help me bring up the cows.
He says he won't do it, and I want you
to make him.
Mother.—YouJWashington ! why don’t
you help your btother bring up the cows ?
Mary jane.*—l wish you would look at
Sally. She's playing in the ashes’ and
says she will do it as much as she pleases;
and it she don’t mind she will be burnt
up alive.
Mother,—You Sarah Ann! why don’t
you get out of the fire ? I can’t follow all
Hamilton, Ga. Fefe. 15> 1
Tff ■ = ~
otj vj&u and keep you out myself. Mr.
HJtdffy,-1 think you oaght to see to the
. ehijdren. There’s one bawling -yonder,
and brie calling me here, .and the oaby is
sp;.cr6ss I can’t get him byt af uiy arm*
a'wjnute. Do see to Sarah jVnn.
Hardin.—Sarah Atyi ! if you don’t
gey-out 4 pf the fire, I’ll whip you.
Sarah Ann.—Pa. I’m not playing in
the fire. Sis Mary, told a fib on me.
Mary Jane.-—Yes you were. .
Saiah Ann.— No I wasn’t. I was just
punching up the chunks to make the fire
burn. i , ;
Mary Jane—No you wasn’t. You
were playing in the fttre, and you know it,
and it’s not worth while to deny it.
Mr. Hardin.—Come, no quarreling in
my presence. C won’t ajlow it; and if
vou don’t mind what you’re about, I’ll
flogyouboth.
Francis.— Pa look at Andy, he’s gol
my knife and won't let me have it.
Mr. Hardin.—You Andy, give up
the knife.
Andrew.—Well, in a minute.
Francis —Give me niy knife.
A scuffle ensues, in which Andrew
gets his finger cut.
Andrew. —Pa Frank's made me cut
rhv finger, and I wish you would whip
him for it. Mother. will ym> *4r'■vt-uprfr-y;
Mr#. H-ir.din.—-Yes'; here’s another
trouble. When will I ever have time to
rest myself? I’ve neatly run my heels
off, and still I’ll never gel done doing
Mr. Hardin, if you don’t take these boys
in hand, they’ll come to the gallows.
Mind what I tell you.
Mr. Hardin.—-Now. come, Tabby, you
are as pettish as any of the children. It
has not been a minute since I told An
drew to give Frank his knife.
Sarah Ann —Mother, look at johnny
a pulling little Buddy’s hair.
Mr. Hard).o.—You Johnny 1 quit null
ing your little brother's hair. You are
getting to be as bpd as any of the boys.
Yau Sarah Ann ! don’t turn over the cra
dle with the child in it.
Thomas —Mother, Wash says if you
ate going to milk the cows, he wishes
von would god.-.*OgiltOsUflA,
Mrs. Hardin —Washington, turn in
old P.da, and then tie the rope around the
call’s neck while sucking.
T he Cows were all milked) and Mts
Hardin returned tojthe house, and was
sitting ut the head ot the supper table,
which was surrounded by her children.
The coffee was served, and the irksome
task of helping the plates of all was being
performed.
Mrs. Hardin —Benjamin, Can’t you
pass your little sister’s plftte to your lath
er? When you came to the table, you
never think of any tody but yourself; and
it seems impossible to learn you all any
politeness. 4 |
Sarah Ann.—Mother. I wish vou would
make Andy quit snatching my biscuits
from me. This makes two he’s took.
Mr Hardin.—Y>u Andrew! Comfc t
sir; there’s enough on the table, if you’ll
a-k for it;, and don’t let me sbe any more
of that snatching.
Andrew.—Well, I didn’t go to take
her’n- I thought it was mine.
Sarah Ann.—You done it before you
coriie away, though.
Thomas.—Whoop pee ! lIOW sharp cur
Sal’s gittin’.
Mr. Hardin.—Yes, your’re all getting
too sharp for your good.
Mrs. Hardin.^ —Yes, they’re all getting
ahead of me.
Mary Jane.—Wash, give me some but
ter ?
Washington pays no attention.
’ Wash! I ax’d you for some butter,*
bawls out Mary again.
Washington pas-es the butter hurriedly
to his sister, and resumes his knife and
I oi k.
/ Mrs. Hardin.—Washington, can’t I
never learn you any manners at the table ?
You are so ravenous when you get to the
; table, you don’t take time to serve any
j body but yourself; and it’s next thing to
impossible to make vou near.
About this time, Johnny,-who had not
yet, been to the table, comes op and bawls
out—
‘Frank’s in my place! I wish you’d
make him get up pa.’ / *
Mr. Harnm—Come here, Johnny, and
stand by Pa. and Fraoky shan’t take your
place any more.
Mrs Hardin.—Sarah Ann, what do.
you want? I
•Nuthin’.
’ Yes, you’ve commenced vourcontra
rvness, now. I asked you what you want
ed ?’
Sarah Ann begins to whimper and crv.
By this time. George and Benjamin had
finished their supper *, and in retiring j
from the table, one itpset his chair, and
the other knocked his plate off the table
with his elbow 4 .
Mrs Hardin.—Mr Hardin, I tell you j
again, if you don’t try to do something
with these big boys, they’ll take the
house. l've#done every thing I can do
with them. You must letlly take them
in hand. The iittle ones are as.many as
I can manage, and more too. Sarah Ann,
finish vonr supper. If vbu don’t very
quick, I'll clear live table from you.
Sarah Ann had ■placed,and dabbled in
her coffee, until it was cold, and had lick
ed all the butter from her biscuit, and was
crying for more.
Mrs. Hardin.—Sarah Ann! I will re-,
ally have to whip you. if you don’t get
Irom the table immediately. You. have
been mincing for the last hour, and have
eat nothing yet.
Sarah Ann.—Well, Andy took my bis
cuits from me. and I couldn’t get Wash
to give me any more till ’while ago, then
my coffee was cold. * ;
‘ Come, get down,’ insisted Mrs. Hard
in. - ■
After an hour and a half, the tabfe was
cleared away. Mr. Hardin seated him*
sell on one side of the fiie place, and Mrs
Hardin on the other, and the children
formed a* semi-cirde between them, and
every one w 4 as quiet and still, listening
attentively, for a rarity, to the conversa
tion of their parents*
Sarah Ann—Just look .at Andy. He
keeps pushing about, and’ mashing my
toe< with his chair.
■ Mr. Hardin—Come, Andrew, can’t
you be still? Tabbv, I think we had
better dig our potatoes, to-morrow; and
then I’lJ have nothing to do but to gather
in the cotton. I want to get it off to mar
ket as soon as possible.
Sarah Ann —Pa ! won’t yoq gel me a
doll when you sell the cotton ?
• And me a knife?’ asked Andrew.
‘ Yes, you promised to buy me a little
dog-knife, too,’ added Francis.
‘ And me a han’kercher,’ says Thomas.
‘I reck’n me and Ben and Sis Maty
( tco,’ dr-r lcd out YV-h
Mr Hardin agreed to perform every
request, provided they ‘all would be
smart and see who could pick the most
cott’n.’
Mrs. Hardin —I want you little child
ren to put out to bed as quick as possible
Surah Ann.—l’m not sleepy, and I
don’t w'an’t to go to bed yit.
‘Me nuther.’ responded Johnny and
Frank at the same time.
M. Hardin. —George, I want you to
take old Ball and all the children, and
gather that pa s ch bf Spanish potatoes to*
morrow morning, good and soon. Put
one of those new ‘ scooters’ on the plow
for I want you to plow very deep, or else
you’ll not get them all. I see they have
giown very deep in the ground.
Andrew.—-I'm gwine-totake that little
handle basket to toat taters ink mayn’t I pa?
‘Never mind, we’ll see about that to
morrow,’ returned Mr. Hafdin.
Mrs. Hatdin.—Children, didn't I tell
you all to go to bed half an hour ago?—
Come, put out before I whip every one
of you.
Sarah Ann.—Mother, I wish you’d
make Mary undo my frock. I ax’d her
four or five times, & she hain’t done it yit.
Mary.—■ Why. Sal you know that’s
not'so; you hain’t sed a word to me.
Mrs Hardin.—Undo Sarah’s dress,
and let her go to bed ; lor I want to get
rid of her evei lasting torgue. It’s rib rab,
rib rab. all the day long, and no end to it.
Maty and Sarah gets in bed and are
ppr f ectly still for awhile. Presently, Sa
rah bawls out—
’ Mother, Mary’s pullin, all off o’ me !*
‘ Divide that cover right, and let me
hear no more of your fuss, fo-night,’ says
Mrs. Hardin.
‘ Mother, Frank’s a kickin’ o’ me !*
scieams out Andrew^
‘No i ain’t. Git furderh You’re
about to push trie out’n the bed,’ exclaims
Frank, with his head under the cover.
Mrs. Hardin goes out and gets a peach
tree switch, am* gives about a half-dozen
of them a flagging, and in a few moments
they are all asleep.
Mr. Hardin —t don’t think j ever saw
such a hard headed set ot children in all
my life.
i Mrs. Hardin.—Old man, 1 blame you
, with it all. You just sit and let them run
lover you. and scarcely ever correct them
The first time. There must be something
done with them—for if there ain’t, I shall
have to leave the premises.
‘No quarreling now : I’m going to
bed,’ growled Mr. Hardin. T
*Atlantic Ga.
[ VOll. 2—NO. 02*
! TH$ OLD SOLDIERS.
Those who witnessed the proceeding®
of the convention of the soldiers of tWf*
war of 1812, must have been gratified Py
the sight of the men who composed it—
Gray hairs, were abundant—arid, though
alt the delegates have been ■ for many
years engaged in peaceful avocafidnS,
there.was something in the occasion
which roused up the spirit of youlji, anp' 4
caused the participant to ,assbme tP
erect and martial depdrtrirtent <ffjhe c?
Thedelegation from New
tho most attention* Sotm.gJ* or out v||
were attired in the ok I*** 1 *** 1 wjt
with queer-looking cockw v S from .‘■p
and red feathers of a
now unusual. Others w/y before
. over citizens’ clothes, td wfi\C*it s >
were attached ; whilst updn
were placed a decoration iairety se’
npw.a-days —the old-fashioned.black n
tional cockade, with a little gilt eagje
the centre. The session of the-Co*
tion was short, for the veterans h \
subjects of dispute. They Were al
;maied by one mind, and the resolu __
which'were adopted, expressed the feel
ings of the entire body. The occasi
was calculated to warm their
the fire of old associatians <m ® r
made each other hj>py ‘*jjn f.r the
ries of the past — Scott's {
French Pilgrims —Under
mer.t made with the Turkish governihfi
by'France, the first company of Frent %
Pilgrims has arrived at jertisale'in, jr 1
been received at -the gate of Jaffa by t s
lute of mu-ketry. They Were Cldthdd i
white, and on approaching *he city hy
alighted from their hoises, prostrated
themselves, and prayed fervently.
-V- *|HW4
Frauds in Woolen Cloth.
respondent of the Geneee Faring
that immense quantities of cast-c
of paupers are auuually imported iare
country, to be worked up into Jot 4
cloth, to sell to American people.Dol-’
rags were formerly used only for
Now they are imported at a ciost/ 9 *
ceils ae sent*>^ e city v to one address.
cents p~ a - tn onß p ,,9t m
cotton. All
are made of i(iff-- . can
tion, and importS* 1 8 ‘ lce!
mf>re than the ragsf Tf,ls per
easily detected by placinstter up i
it—it feels as loUgh as a
frauds which the per annum
commit upon the unsuJ ,ter d l ) 1 s
men, throw the sheen _
the shade.— Scott's sent at
is lai ee L a draft
PUBLIC Dl)Je— the cost of
One of the most sinof j n the amount* -
ed with the history of
ernments, is the J
land. 11 U not only al Ph*ldß'ph'-
ever, bat one that is full / T
great national debt,
mated at eight hundred and fifty millions
of pounds, or about 450,000,000)
which, in sovereigns, would form an
enormous heap of gold, Weighing severt
thousand tons. It would tike a person to
count ovet this sum, no less than thirty*
two years, allowing him to count ®t#
hundred sovereigns in ® minute, and td
work twelve hours a day. It would also
load ns many wagons as would extend
forty miles in a straight line, allowing
each wagon to carry two tons, and to oca
cupy a space ten yards in length. The
annual interest on this sum, at five per
centb, would load as many Wagoni with
two tons of sovereigns each, and twenty
yards to each wagan, as would extend
one mile and a half in a direct line*
Scott’r Weekly, T
New BanXs. —On Saturday* the
House committee on Banks, reported fe
voraoly to the establishment of the Ex*
change Bank of Savannah, ‘fhe bill sots
its incorporation was read the third time
and paused. In Senate, a Bill to incopO*
rate the Interior Bank, in the city of drift
fin, was passed a tier much discussion*
Bridge Difficulties at Augustd. —'fhero
seems to be a prospect of war at Augusta,
arrising out of a revival of the did Bridge
controversies. 4
The Legislature, of South Carolina
granted td two men the privilege of cfU
lecting toll on the east end of the Bridge.
which has produced great exciteinentTß
Augusta, and there is strong talk of force
on both sides —Corner Shiil!.
—— 1 1 ...a*’
It is said that Martin Kosgfa is ndW in
a state of utter destitution. The Herald
alledge* that an application Was recently
made on his behalf for a clerkship in that
establishment at a salary of fiv deUari
per week.
