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VOL. 1.
[Writtcn for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
MOTHER, HOME, AND HEAVEN.
As ceaselessly and wearily, through this wide world we |
roam,
Surrounded by life’s chequered scenes of happiness, or
gloom.
By pleasure's bright and transient beams, or, sorrow's
influence fell.
Three bleseetl gift t, from God to man, all murmuring
thoughts dispel!
When tempted from the chosen i»th of virtue and of
truth.
Forgetful of the lessons she instilled into our youth.
The thought of Mother, ns if sent from Heaven, will call
us back
From sin, and lead us once again to virtue's narrow track.
Though sin may taint, or pleasure's voice, with its en
trancing power,
May woo ns to forgetfulness, for one short, fleeting hour,
Soon faithful memory will rcc ill the scenes of by-gone
days;
The little dwelling round whose door we joined in child
hood's plays.
And as these days of innocence, to memory re-appear.
Unbidden to our eyes will start affection's briny tear :
Where'er, howe'er, through this wide world we may be
forced to roam,
Ever, while mem'rv lasts, the heart will fondly turn to
Home !
And who would wish to linger here, 'raid scenes of grief
and pain ?
Ah! who would live w ithout the hope that they will
meet again ?
What could repay for all life's ills and sorrows met with
here.
What, but the trust that we will lie blest iu another sphere.
Where all the dear ones that we lov'd, an d liv'd with here
below,
May love and live with us above, free from all pain and
woe?
This hope supports,'tho ugh here our hearts by sorrows
dire be riven,
The hope that we may find a home, a happy home in
Heaven !
Benardo.
-
[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
Entered according to the Act of Congress, <tc., etc.
by the Author.
PIASTER WILLIAM MITTEN;
OK,
A YOUTH OF BRILLIANT TALENTS,
WHO WAS RUINED BY BAD LUCK.
BY THE AUTHOR OF THE GEORGIA SCENES, ETC.
CHAPTER XIII.
The Captain forms good plans—Answers Wil
liam's letter , wisely, but crustily — Mrs. Mitten
resolves to relieve her son from want and ridi
cule both at a dash—A very happy evening at
the Captain's—Heavy cloud the next day —A
"Moral Image" is introduced, who as usual,
produces great immorality.
Captain Thompson’s design was to keep his
nephew at Doctor Waddel’s school long enough
to wean him from his old associates, and his old
habits, to put at least seventeen years upon his
head before he entered College, to prepare him
so thoroughly for the sophomore class, that lie
might enter it with credit, and in the meantime,
to give him the strength and vigor of constitu
tion, that would sustain him through any
amount of mental labor that he might find it
necessary to undergo in order to stand at the
head of liis classes in College. All this was as
well planned as it could be. College is no place
for a youth given to bad habits. It sometimes
happens, that religion finds such an one there,
and reforms him; hut it much oftener happens,
that he makes shipwreck of tho religion of all
his College companions who associate with him.
Nor should a youth be sent to College until he
lias acquired some little stability of character
and self-control; and seventeen is the earliest
age at which these can be hoped for, in youths
generally. Well for them if even at that age
they have the moral firmness needful to resist
the temptations to vice, which are found in all
Colleges. One of tho best securities against
these temptations, is a high reputation for
talents and scholarship, acquired immediately
on entering College. Students will commonly
struggle harder to maintain, than to gain a high
position in their classes.
But to the success of Captain Thompson’s
plans, it was indispensable that William Mitten
should become reconciled to this school; other
wise he would keep his mother in such a state
of mental excitement, that her health must soon
give way under it, when no alternative would
be left liim, but to save the life of the mother,
hy indulgence of the son. He flattered himself
that time would reconcile William to the school,
and the sooner, when he saw all hope of leaving
it cut off. He knew that the worst must soon
be told, and he supposed that if he could carry
his sister safely through the successive develop
ments of the first month or two, his ultimate
designs would be accomplished. His policy was, •
therefore, to lighten the first shock of each un
pleasant discovery, by diverting her mind from
it, with something amusing, flattering, or harrn-
j JANES GARDNER, I
| Proprietor. |
AUGUSTA, GA., SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1859.
lessly controversial. The critical reader will
have learned his tactics from what has been re
corded specially in the last Chapter. Having
allayed the mother’s anxieties for a moment at
least, he turned to the son, and addressed to him
a letter, in which, with much good advice, he
administered to him a stern rebuke for afflicting
his mother with his complaints. “Are yon, - ’ said
he, “so inhuman, so brutish, as to try to win
me over to your wishes, through your mother’s
tortures ? Are you not well enough acquainted
with her to know that she never forfeits her
word—that she would sooner die now, than re
claim you from me, until your education is com
pleted? Why, then, do you croak to her? Why
do you not make your wants and discontents
known to me? lam the only one that can ap
pease them.
“And you are grumbling about your faro al
ready ! Why, I carried cakes and sugar things
enough with you to last you one week surely;
and pray get unstuffed of them, before you begin
to grumble about your next cramming. If you
had seen your father and me when we were of
your age, gulping down ash-pone and crack
lings, you would, for the honor of the stock at
least, keep your daintiness to yourself. I dont
know what Newby gives you to eat; but I have
no doubt it would have been a feast to us in our
day. What apology have you for grumbling at
your diet, when you have the privilege of board
ing where you please ? If you don’t like
Newby’s, go somewhere else. What better
are you than the hundred and fifty boys around
you? This much you may take for settled:
that I never will take you away from Mr. Wad
dets, just to accommodate your belly. So quit
your grunting about what you are to eat; and if
you must grunt, grunt to me, and not to your
mother.
“And what does it signify to you, who or
how l old Waddel,' as you call him, whips, so
long as he does not whip you? ‘Old Waddel!'
That is a pretty way for such a chap as you are
to speak of a man of Mr. Waddel's age and rank,
now is it not? Pray, Master Mitten, where did
you learn your manners? From ‘uncle Twat,'
or uncle Sotl In the parlor, or in the kitchen ?
Now mark me, young man ! The next time you
write that name in that way to your mother, or
me, I will cut it out, and send it to Mr. Waddel,
and ask him whether he allows his pupils to
speak of him after this manner. I lose all pa
tience, when I think that at the very time when
you were speaking thus rudely of him, he was
penning a letter filled with the most flattering
compliments to you— l —”
While the Captain was thus writing to his
nephew, Mrs. Mitten was busily engaged devis
ing means to raise her son above want and ridi
cule. She resolved that William never should
“blossom,” and that in this matter, at least, she
would disappoint Mr. Brace. Accordingly she
set to work with all dispatch to make him up
two new suits; and that they might not attract
attention from their fineness, she chose for them
the coarsest material that her heart would
consent to William’s wearing. “Let my son,”
sighed she, "look like a negro, rather than
suffer worse than one!" She taxed her mind
to find some decent substitute for a shirt, but
failing here, she made him up three cotton shirts,
of Mrs. Thurlow’s spinning and weaving—that
is to say—of the best quality of home manufac
ture. To these, she added three pairs of stock
ings of Mrs. Figg’s knitting. All these, with
three blankets, and two pairs of cotton sheets,
were packed in one box ; but as they did not
quite fill it, she slipped into it two tumblers of
plum-jelly, and one of raspberry-jam. These
being nicely surrounded, and covered with cot
ton, the box was closed. Another was replen
ished with biscuit, crackers, cheese, tongue,
sliced ham, sausages, Ac., Ac., to a large extent;
and this too, like the other, was closed rather
carelessly. The whole process was kept a pro
found secret from the Captain; and, indeed, from
everybody else, but Tom, upon whom secrecy
was strictly enjoined. As there was no hope of
meeting with a convenient opportunity of send
ing these cumbrous stores to William, by one
going to Willington, Mrs. Mitten determined to
forward them without delay per cart, in charge
of her most intelligent and trusty servant. —
The reader immediately conjectures who this ser
vant was. But a very ugly difficulty lay between
the plan and its execution. Tom did not know
the first mile of the way to Willington, and to
get directions from the Captain, was just to blow
the whole project sky-high. Mrs. Mitten took
the rounds of the stores, therefore, in quest of
the desired information. But none of the mer
chants or citizens of whom she made inquiry,
had ever heard of Willington ; and, when she
told them that Willington was the place where
Mr. Waddel kept his school, they looked at her
as if doubting whether she was in her right
mind; for every body knew that her son was at
Mr. Waddel’s school, and that her brother had
carried him there. All were too polite, howev
er, to ask explanations of her. From Mr. West,
she got a little light. He told her that when
her brother went off with William, he met them
near Mr. Ellison’s, on the Washington road. —
This was enough to start by, at least; and she
knew that Mr. Smith’s was the first stage ; but
she was well aware that it would never do to
dispatch Tom upon this information alone. She
was constrained, therefore, to resort to her
brother at last. She went over to his house
early in the afternoon, and found that lie had
gone to his farm. She awaited his return; and in
the'meantime made a confidant of Mrs. Thomp
son, and bespoke her assistance in extracting
from her husband sueli directions, as would
guide Tom surely and speedily to Willington.
The Captain reached home just at supper-time.
His sister greeted him with a radiance of counte
nance, and gaiety of manner, that really trans
ported him.
“ Oh. my dear sis,” said lie, “how happy I am
to see you so cheerful—so much like your own
dear, sweet, former self! What good news have
you heard ?’’
“None, brother. My cheerfulness is not alto
gether real; but I hope it soon will be so; and
perhaps the best way to make it so, is to assume
it when I can.”
So went the conversation, as they went to the
table. When seated, Mrs. Mitten actually be
gan a playful conversation with Mrs. Thompson,
by enquiring whether she had heard lately of
“David Ramsay, son of Doctor Ramsay, the
Historian, Ac., Ac., Ac.”
“ No,” said Mary, “I don’t think lie’ll ever
say * Ramsay' to me again, as long as he lives.”
The Captain roared, and all laughed.
“ Well, Moll,” said he, “if I could always see
you and sis in such fine spirits, I believe I should
be the happiest man living.”
“Well, husband,” said Mary, “we ought both
of us always to be in fine spirits, for after all
your teasing and wilfulness, I don’t think any
woman ever had a better husband than I have,
or a better brother than Anna has.”
“ I can say 'amen to that with all my heart,”
said Anna.
“Well done, ladies !” cried the Captain, pre
tending to take it all as a joke, “what project
have you now on foot ? Where are the girls
going ? How many horses will they want, and
for how long ? How much money will it take
to rig them out, and bear tlieir expenses ? It
can’t bo»tliat either of the girls are going to get
married: the oldest is a little too young for
that.”
“ Nothing of the kind, husband ; nothing of
the kind. It just came in the way, and I spoke
out the honest sentiments of my heart.”
“ And so did I brother, I assure you.”
“ Well, ladies, I can only say that I wish from
the very bottom of my heart, that all this,
would ‘just come in the way,’ every day. It
would make me the happiest man in the United
States, I’m sure.”
“Brother, have you answered William's let
ter?”
“ Oh, yes, long ago,” said the Captain, look
ing as if he thought something was about to
“ come in the way,” that was not quite so com
fortable.
“ Husband, how far is it to Mr. AYaddel’s?”
“About sixty miles—maybe a little under or
over.”
“ Which way do you go, to get there, bro
ther?”
“ I went the Barkesdale Ferry Road, because
it is a little nearer than the upper road by Lis
bon, Petersburg, and Vienna. Look here, good
women, what do all these questions mean ?
Anna, you surely have no notion of going to
Mr. Waddel’s, have you ?”
“ Oh, no, not the most distant idea of it—at
least till the weather becomes milder.”
“ You’re not going to send for William to
come home, surely ?”
“ No, no, my dear brother, no. Did you ever
know me to violate my word ? And if I were
disposed to do it, do you suppose that I would
do it stealthily ?”
“ That would be quite out of character with I
you, sister, I confess. But there is something ;
so strange in this catchising from you and
Mary, and it goes on with sueli quizzical looks !
between you, right upon the heel of a loving ;
fit, that I am constrained to think ihere is some- j
thing in the wind, that I am not to bp suffered
to understand.”
“ How do you know, husband, but that we are
paying you back in your own coin ? It is fine ;
sport for you, to trifle with our curiosity.”
“ I should expect such pay from you, but not .
from Anna."
“ Well, sister Mary, as we can’t please him
cither by being serious or pleasant, suppose we
go over to my house, for the remainder of the
evening.”
“Oh, no, my dear wife, and my dear sister,
don’t go away and leave me, while you are in
such a pleasant mood. I have not had such a
refreshing, for two years. Stay, and you may
ask me as many questions as you please, and I 1
will answer them, with pleasure.’’
“Stay a moment, Anna; and let’s try him,"
said Mrs. Thompson. “ What is the given name
of the Smith whom you stayed with the first
night ?”
“John.”
“ How far does he live this side of Wash
ington ?”
“About three miles —perhaps a little less.” I
“After you pass through Washington, what
is the next town that you come to?”
“No town. But. there are two places that
bear the names of towns—or names which a
traveller would take for the names of towns,
though there are not six houses in both of them
put together; the first is Rehoboth, and the
second is Goshen.”
“Well, you have said your lesson so well that
we will not examine you any more to-night.—
And now, sister Anna, he has been such a good
boy, that I think you ought to sit down and
spend the evening with him.”
“ I would with all my heart, sister, if I could,
but business that must be attended to-night,
calls me home. Remember, I have been here
nearly all the afternoon.”
“ Well, if you must go, I'll go with you.”
“ What in the mischief can those women be
after?” mused the Captain, as they left the
house. “If Waddel was a widower, and didn’t
whip so joyfully, I should think that Anna was
going over to lay siege to his heart.” The Cap
tain being fatigued, retired early to rest.
As soon as the ladies entered the house, Tom
. was summoned.
“ Tom,” said Mrs. Mitten, “ I want you to
take old Ball and the cart, and carry those boxes
to your mas’ William. lie is going to school to
Mr. Waddel, in Willington, over in South Caro
lina—is Ball shod ?”
“ Yes ma’am, new shod, day before yester
| day.”
“ I w ant you to start at the peep of day in
tftc morning. And now’ listen well to what I’m
; going to tell you. You take the Washington
; road, the road by Mr. Ellison’s, and keep it till
I you come to Mr. John Smith’s. He lives only
two or three miles this side of Washington.—
There you will stop for the night, no matter
what time you get there. The next morning,
make an early start, and when you' get to
Washington, enquire for Rehoboth ”
; “Stop Mis’ess—call that name ’gin!”
i | “ Rehoboth —Re-ho-both.”
1 “Igot him!” said Tom, with one ear up and
■ the other dow’n, his eyes looking on the ground
six feet off, and listening, most vigorously.
“When you get to Rehoboth, inquire for
Goshen, and when you get to Goshen, enquire
; for Barkesdale’s ferry; and when you get to
’ Barkesdale’s ferry, enquire for •Willington, or
| Mr. Waddel’s, either; and when you get to
i Willington, ask for Mr. Newby’s, where you will
I lind William—l believe that’s all right, isn’t it
Mary?”
“Exactly.”
I “Here is your pass, Tom, in which I have
! stated where you are going, and for what. If
you get out of the way, show that to any one
I you meet, and he will set you right. And hero
are ten dollars; take five to bear your expenses,
and give the other five, with this letter, to Wil
| liam. Now r , do be particular, Tom, for if any
thing goes w’rong, we shall never hear the last
of it. I want you to get back before brother
j David finds out that you have ever been.”
“I’ll go it, mis’ess, like a streak o’ lightnin’.”
Mrs. Thompson returned home and slipped into
bed without waking her husband. The next
i morning he watched her very closely, but could
discover nothing unusual in her conduct or con
versation. After breakfast, he re-visited his
farm, and returned to dinner. Having dined,
he sauntered down to the business part of the
town, w’here he joined a group of gentlemen in
front of Mr. West’s store. They gave him a some
what distant salutation, and eyed him with
rather a solemn interest, saying nothing.
“Why, gentlemen,” said the Captain, “w’hat
; makes you all look so serious?”
“Captain,” said Mr. West, “have you heard
from your nephew, William Mitten, lately?”
“Not very,” said the Captain, turning pale.—
i “Has any thing happened to him?”
“Not that I know of, but his mother asked
i me the way to Mr. Waddel’s yesterday, with
j some anxiety, and I didn't know but that some-
I thing had happened.”
“She asked me, too,” said a second. “And
me, too,” said a third. “And me,” said a fourth.
“ Why, ” resumed the Captain, “it is the
strangest thing in the world! Nothing can be
the matter with William, for his mother was at
my house last night, and I hardly ever saw her
more cheerful than she was, all the time she
stayed. And, what was unaccountable to me,
then, and is more so now, she and my wife were
pumping me all the time about the road to Wad
del's.”
“I thought it very strange,” continued West, i
“that she did not go to you for information.”
“I was not at home in the forenoon.”
“Oh, well, that accounts for it”
It was sheer good luck on Mrs. Mitten’s side j
that none of the party knew but that she had
gone to consult her brother in the first instance.
While the whole company were standing .
amazed, Mr. Houghton came up, smiling—
“ Captain,” said he, “as I came into town this |
morning, I met your sister’s Tom about two j
miles this side of my house, in a cart, with two
boxes in it, and about two feeds of fodder and
corn. “Why, Tom,” said I, “where are you
going ?”
I “I’m gwine," says he,” “to Mr. Wodden’s, who
i keeps school at Mr. Williston’s, in Car’lina.”
I Tw o Dollars Per Aniinm, I
| . Always In Advance. f
“Well,” said I, “Tom, you’ll never get to
Car'lina this way, till you pass through Augusta.’’
“Why, ain’t this the Washington road, Mas’
Josh?” said he.
“No, Tom, you left; the Washington road three
or four miles back.”
“Emp-e-e-eh!” says Tom, “My sign fail me
this time, that’s sartain!”
“What sign, Tom?”
“Why you see, Mas’ Josh, when I come to the
fork of a road, and don’t know which to take, I
spit in my hand and hit ’um with my fore-Anger,
so; and which way the mos’ spit fly, I take that
road. But, bless the Lor’, the spit cheat me this
time, that’s sartain.”
A peel of laughter followed this narrative,
loud enough to be heard over half the village;
but the Captain did not swell it much. He dis
guised his wrath, however, pretty well.
“I put him in the right road again,” continued
Mr. Houghton, “and for fear the spit wouldn’t
fly right, I advised him of all the forks between
my road and the Washington road.”
“The mystery is explained,” said the Captain.
“Anna has sent off a cart-load of comforts to her
son, which she did not Vish me to know about;
and now I’ll have to go after Tom, for he’ll never
find the way to Waddel’s during ash and oak.”
“What did he mean, Captain,” inquired Hough
ton, “by Waddel’B keeping school at Mr. Willis
ton'st"
“The place where Waddel’s school is kept, is
called Wellington , and Tom has mistaken it for a
man’s name.”
As the Captain’s feelings were not in tune
with those of the company, and as every ques
tion made the discord more and more grating to
his refined sensibilities, he concluded to retire; so
putting on an air of perfect indifference to the
whole matter, and saying carelessly “I must see
Anna,” lie withdrew very leisurely; but
oue who saw how his face reddened, and his
pace quickened with every step towards his
sister's after he turned the nearest corner, might
with truth have exclaimed, “The ma-an’s mad 1”
[to be continued.]
The Turcob. —An English correspondent
writes:
“Near Rivoltella, the other day, we passed
some parties of our old acquaintances, the Tur
cos, who took, it appears, their usual fierce part
|in the battle <£ Solferino. These desperate
1 Africans continirc to excite the admiration—or,
I I should rather say, the wonder, not unmingled
j with apprehension—of the districts they pass
through. As I before told you, are Q bt very
desirable persons to meet on a lonely road, Ofii
pccially of a dark night. There is something
decidedly “uncanny’ about them. They remind
one of wild animals trained by some bold hun
ter to pull down his game, but from whom his
own flocks and herds are not altogetlier safe.—
, When met with in Straggling parties and with
| out their officers, it is wisest to have as little to
; say to them as possible. They are not remark
i able for respecting anything except their officers
and the heavy bamboos with which these are
usually provided. They are not subjected to the
same mode of punishment as the French soldiers,
but when they offend, the officers cudgel them
soundly. One may suppose that the officers of
the Tureos are selected With an especial regard
to their intimidating qualities, most of those
whom I have seen being powerful men of most
determined aspect, likely to daunt the negroes,
Arabs and other African varieties under their
command. The French tell me that the Tureos
are first rate soldiers when opposed to rifles and
bayonets, but the fire of artillery cowes them,
and they do not like it. Hitherto it has been
found impossible to make them give quarter;
they never take prisoners; all they overtake
they kill.” ,
v»» - mm •
Mathematical Idea of Honor. — A graduate
of a certain cellege gave another the lie, and a
challenge followed. The mathematical tutor of
the College heard of the dispute, and sent for
the youth, who told him he must fight. “Why ? ’
inquired the mathematician. “He gave me the
lie.” “Very well—lfet him prove it. If he
proves it, you did lie ; and if he does not prove
it, he lies. Why should you shoot one another?
Let him prove it. If you did lie, will your shoot
ing him prove that you did not ? or will it
make people believe that you did not? If he
proves himself a liar, not being able to prove you
one, why shoot him ? Is he not sufficiently
punished ? He has done you no harm; why
shoot him ?”
—mw ■+•+-
Coinage at the U. S. Mint.— The gold coin
age of the United States Mint, Philadelphia, for
the month of June, was $180,069. The silver
coinage was $90,000, being in dollars and quar
ter-dollars. Os cents. $36,000 were coined. The
whole number ot pieces coined was 3,835,003,
of the aggregate value of $96,060. The total
gold deposits of the month were $104,710, of
which $96,832 50 were from California, and $,7-
877 50 from other sources. The silver deposits
were $172,915. Total deposits for the month,
$277,025.
NO. 12.
