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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.