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Original. [Communicated for the Southern Field and Fireside.] DABTHULA’S ANSWER TO JABL EGILL'S * WOOING. Proud Egill, think not that Thou wooest a maid, Whose dazzled eyes shrink from The sheen of thy blade; Think not that my cheek doth In terror wax pale. At sight of a warrior Armed in mail. And if my heart swelletli, It is not in fear, But for pride that a sea-king As suitor bends here. And know, haughty wooer, Though deeming it pride, Darthula is worthy To stand by thy side. The daughter of Einar, Brave son of the brave, Is a right fitting mate For the Lord of the wave, I hear the skalds* harping The deeds of our dead, And bold must he be who Their daughter would wed. The rocks of our island Rise steep on the shore, The surf dashes on them With deafening roar; I've sat on their summit When storms howl'd around, And heard, as 'twere music, Their terrible sound. From blaze of the lightning My eye never shrunk, At shock of the thunder My heart never sunk ; Then think not that the roll Os thy bark I'll fear, Or weep when the tumult Os battle I hear; For the lightning’s brighter Than gleaming of glaive, The tempest more fearful Than shouts of the brave. Then ho 1 for the bark that My palace must be! The bride of Jarl Egill Is Queen of the Sea. Look, where thy broad banner Floats over the strand, — The keel of the Raven Is kissing the sand. Then take thou my hand, 'Tis true to the heart, And the faith that it pledges, Shall never depart; That hand shall caress thee When deeds have been done That deserve its caress, After victories won. But if thou from the fate Os the brave should'st quail, If in the fierce slaughter Thy spirit should fail, This hand, now so gentle, Thy death-blow shall give, For he who is conquered No longer should livel But shame to my doubtings! I fling them away, As the prow of thy vessel The scattering spray. As soon the great Sun shall Forget to give light, As the arm of Jarl Egill Grow weak in the fight. I know thou wilt perish As Vikinger should. The blows of thy bmnfl 1.1u.10 Avenging thy blood. And when the last foeman Is sunk in the wave, Thy death-rites shall be As befitteth the brave. Thy brown bark shall bum For thy funeral pyre, The hand of Darthula Shall kindle the fire; The helm on thy cold brow, The sword in thy hand, Thy true wife beside thee, Around thee thy band; In such lordly guise Thou wilt speed to the gate, Os the Palace of Odin, Whose gods thee await; With the welcome of heroes Shall echo the walls, When Jarl Egill enters Valhalla's wide halls. Then ho! for the Raven! She flaps her broad w ings, And pants for th’ wild joy The mad conflict brings. Like the wake of the Raven All sparkling with light, Shall be thine, Jarl Egill! Through thy foes, in the fight. M. E. B. ♦These were the bards of Scandinavia. [For the Southern Field and Fireside.] OUR COMMON SCHOOLS. Mr Editor: —ln your notice of my commu nication on the subject of common school educa cation, you expressed a wish that more of the data from which my conclusions were deduced, had been given. A desire to avoid too much length prevented it, at that time, and indisposi tion has delayed it since, until now. Most of my conclusions have been derived from observation, which an intimate connec tion with the common school system, in its prac tical execution, from its first adoption to the present time, has enabled mo to make. I have been a Georgia teacher for the last forty years; and I know the activity of teachers and other persons interested in keeping the country schools in operation,—all urged on by self-interest, (one of the strongest motives to action,) in in ducing into the schools, as many as possible, of the poor children. lam satisfied, that a more active influence is not likely to be used fir the same object, under any other system. The pres ent system is as free for that class of children, ■as any system can be. These are the grounds of the conclusion, to which my judgment has been brought, (to-wit,) that the general free school system, for a long series of years, will educate fewer, and at no stage of its advance ment, can it educate more, of the poor children, than the common school system ; and for that reason has no advantage over it in this regard. I made the assertion, in substance, that the present common school fund is amply sufficient to educate all the poor children that can be pre vailed on to enter the schools. If this be true, the general free system, evidently, can have no advantages over the present system. Let the following facts be duly considered: For several years past, the common school fund has been about thirty thousand dollars. Now with this small sum the counties have, by adding a small couuty tax, managed to pay the poor children’s tuition; in many counties without any deduc tion—in others with small, and in none very large deductions. But if these accounts had been reduced, in every county, to twenty-five SORXKX&N FIELD AND XX&SSXB&. cents on the dollar, the present school fund is sufficient, under similar management, to pay the whole accounts, being at present about one hundred and thirty thousand dollars—more than four times the former sum. But the accounts have not been so reduced, and it follows, that the present school fund will be large enough to meet any increase in the number of poor child ren, likely to be induced to enter the schools. If these be facts, (and I think their truth will not be questioned,) they establish the other con clusion, that the general free system has no ad vantages over this common school system. In my former communication, I gave the re sult of a calculation in regard to the amount of money which would be required, under the gen eral free school system, to furnish as many schools as we have at present, under the com mon school system. That calculation proceeded upon the supposition, that all the expenditures for building and furnishing houses, teachers' wages and incidentals would be furnished from the profits arising from an invested fund. But as the expenditures for building would not be an expense recurring annually, it may be more proper to pay for the school buildings by a di rect appropriation, and invest a fund, only large enough to pay teachers’ wages, repairs, Ac. I assume as the basis of the calculation, one hundred and fifty counties in Georgia—some what over the present actual number, but less than the number will be, long before the system .can be perfected. I think the building and fur nishing of school houses, suitable for State in stitutions, can scarcely cost less than one thou sand dollars each, and that ten per cent on this sum will be required, annually, for repairs and incidentals, (wood, Ac.) I suppose the present number of schools in the State large enough, to give an average of ten schools to each county; and that five hundred dollars each, for eight country teachers, and twelve hundred each, for two village or city teachers with assistants, (male and female,) will be as small a sum as can procure competent services. Ido not pretend to say that these assumptions are absolutely cor rect, but I do honestly believe them to be below the reality. Let us see to what results they lead. The number of school houses will be one thousand five hundred, and their cost one million and a half. This is the amount of the direct appropriation. Teachers’ wages, for one county, six thousand four hundred dollars, with ten per cent on cost of building for repairs, wood, Ac., makes seven thousand four hundred dollars annual ly, for eacli county. This sum multiplied by the assumed number of counties, (150,) gives, five hundred and ten thousand dollars. This sum must be paid annually. And to yield it, a fund yielding four per cent net profits, must be in vested, of twelve millions seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This sura, with the di rect appropriation of one million and a half for building, is the price we must pay for a system, which can educate no more of our poor child ren, than our common system is doing, with the annual expenditure of about one hundred and thirty thousand dollars, arising from a fund al ready invested and yielding its returns of profits. Should any one think the above calculation too high, let him remember the fact, that the actual cost of great public works have gener ally far exceeded the highest estimate. I be lieve the estimate far within the bounds of so ber reason. If, then, these things be so, why— I ask emphatically, why should a change be made? In this estimate, you perceive, nothing has been said of the nay of disbursing or contract ing agents—of the salaries cf public officers, nor of the thousand and one holes, through which a dime occassionally finds its way into the pockets of hangers on, who never fail to muster in swarms around public institutions in volving so large an amount of money. When all these things are duly considered, the above estimate can not be extravagant. J. C. P. —— EDMUND BACON. We extract from advance sheets kindly fur nished us by the publishers, from the forth coming work, of Judge O’Neall, “The Bench and Bar of South Carolina, ’* the following sketch of Edmund Bacon, Esq. We have thought that all our readers would be glad to see upon record in the columns of the Field and Fireside, this sketch of one of the most accom plished men of this and our sister State, the original of that memorable and graphic sketch of character, Ned Brace, of the “Georgia Scenes.” “Edmund Bacon was born in Augusta, Georgia, on the 17th of April, A. D. 1776. He was of a Virginia family, his father having removed from that State to Georgia, before the Revolutionary struggle. His education was judiciously com menced and wisely directed. At an early age he was placed in one of the best schools of Geor gia, and afterwards, at the first academy in the city of Augusta, with positive orders and in structions from his guardian—(Mr. Bacon had been early left an orphan)—that he should be schooled after the severest manner. His pre ference for, and progress in, the dead languages, soon became apparent in obtaining the prize for the best translation of the “Ars Poet ica.” Indeed, so devoted was he to the pursuit of the ancient classics as to have exhibited an utter repugnance to the idea of choosing a pro fession. General Glascock, brother-in-law and guardian of Mr. Bacon, who was, naturally, in clined to the same pursuits, encouraged his ward in this regard. The difference, however, be tween the guardian and ward, as Mr. Bacon af terwards said, was, that the one being a gentle man of great wealth and literary tastes, could afford to indulge his inclinations, while the lat ter, not so fortunate in his inheritance, could only hope to do so. Circumstances did for Mr. Bacon, however, that which, perhaps, neither he nor General Glascock would have agreed upon. About this time, it was announced that General Washington would pass through Augusta, and the city collected “ her beauty and chivalry ” to welcome and fete him. Among other ceremo nies, Mr. Bacon was chosen by the academy, of which he was a member, to receive the hero in an appropriate manner. This delicate and hon orable task was accomplished, in an address so fortunate as to have attracted, not only the at tention of that great man, but to have procured from him, for the orator, a present of several law books. Mr. Bacon had already entertained the idea of choosing the law as his profession, but this present decided at once his future calling. •The Bench and Bar or Sovtii Carolina—Contain ing Biographical Sketches of Chief Justices. Law Judges, Chancellors, Recorders, Attorney Generals, U. 8 District Attorneys, Solicitors. Members of the Bar, to which is added. The Original “Fee Bill of 1791,” with Signatures in sac simile attached, complete Uollsof State and Federal Judges and Attorneys, and the “ Rolls of Attorneys” admitted to practice from 1772 to 1859, from the records at Columbia and Charleston. 2 vols., S vo., clo., 500 pp., each *&00. corRTENAT Publishers, No. 9 Broad Street, Charleston, S. C. Though still very young, he resolved, with the consent of his guardian, to enter the celebrated law school at Litchfield, where he applied him self with great assiduity, and was graduated with fuH honors. On his return, Mr. Bacon set tled in Savannah, with a view to the practice of liis profession. He succeeded eminently at the Bar of that city, and before the Circuit Courts of Georgia. His health, however, began to fail, and he was advised to seek another and higher climate. This advice he had already made ar rangements to follow, when he was urgently so licited to assist in the settlemeut and manage ment of the estate of the celebrated General Greene. The labor consequent upon his accept ing this offer, was exceedingly onerous, and the dispatch and application with which the business was effected, left him in a state of health still more impaired, but fortunately, with sufficient means to enable him to retire from his profes sion. With this view, he purchased a planta tion in Beech Island, on Savannah River, where he hoped to renew his health and cultivate his taste for the classics and belles lettres. He soon awoke, however, from this pleasant dream, to find his house destroyed by fire, his farming in terests entirely neglected, and his overseer the ‘ only gainer.” * * * * With returning health, came returning spirits. Mr. Bacon subsequently moved to Edgefield C. H., in South Carolina, and resumed the practice of his profession. “In a short time he became one of the bright est ornaments of the Edgefield Bar. He pos sessed the power of oratory in a high degree, spoke ore rotundo, with grace and ease; and it is even now traditional among the older inhab itants of the district, that his eloquent appeals in capital cases, seldom failed to move the Jury to tears. It was at the festive board, and in social, convivial intercourse, however, that Mr. Bacon shone preeminent. On such occasions he was, indeed, “ the star of the goodly company and such occasions frequently offered them selves at that time in Edgefield, particularly at the house of Col. Edward Simkins, whose posi tion and estate enabled him to dispense a real hospitality, and to gratify the dictates of a true and genuine taste. Here, as also at the house of Mr. Bacon himself, were wont to assemble the great names above mentioned. Even among such spirits, Mr. Bacon was the acknowledged autocrat of the table, insomuch that on a certain occasion, when the famous Dr. Maxcy, of South Carolina College, was added to the list, no sooner had Mr. Bacon left the room, than he, (Dr. M.,)enthusiastically exclaimed: “A perfect Garrick, sir—a living, breathing, acting Gar rick !” On another occasion, Judge Harper invi ted his brother Gantt to dine with him, saying: “ Come, we shall be five, and you shall not lack of good cheer.” The dinner was served to three only, Mr. Bacon making the third. Upon Judge Gantt inquiring for the absent guests, his host replied: “ I said we should be five—all are here. Behold!” pointing at the same time to Mr. Bacon. “ behold Messrs. Gantt and Harper sitting with Jocus, Love and Comus.” Years before this, however, the extraordinary wit and humor of Mr. Bacon along the circuit of the Georgia Bar, had given birth, under the magic pen of the well-known Judge Longstreet, (now the able and beloved President of South Caro lina College,) in the famous “ Georgia Scenes,” to the creation of a character rejoicing in the so briquet of “ Ned Brace,” the original of which conception found no equal save in the unique ness of its action. Mr. Bacon was the original !*. Mr. Bacon was an accurate linguist and so fa miliar with the ancient poets and satirits, par ticularly Juvenal ana Horace, as to be able to finish almost any sentence one might select. * *' * * His knowledge of the English classics was equally correct. It was the custom in that day to deck the dining-table with a profusion of flow ers, and on a certain occasion Mr. Bacon’s was almost literally covered. One of the guests ex pressed his surprise and admiration of the beau tiful custom, when Mr. Bacon replied: “ Perhaps, sir, it may be unusual with you, but ‘.I, who am to the manner bom,’ deem it well nigh indispen sable.” “ A most charming custom, certainly,” replied the former, “ but one may be to the man ner born, and yet know nothing of it; for I think you too well acquainted with the English terms, and with Coke and Littleton, to suppose that Shakspeare used or intended the word manner.” Mr. Bacon joined issue, saying that “his honorable friend was certainly mistaken,” and adding that “it was such a mistake as a lawyer would be apt to make.” The question was mooted, and as the guests were nearly all of the legal profession, they, (with the exception of Judge Butler, then fresh from the schools, and just on the threshold of his future bright and honorable career,) unhesitatingly pronounced against Mr. Bacon. A volume of Shakspeare, however, soon decided the correctness of the Messrs 8., senior and junior. * * * ,* Mr Bacon was as remarkable for his humor, before the populace and at the electioneering hustings, as for his wit before the bar and at the table. Witness the wooly steed and the va rious pranks of Ned in the “Georgia Scenes.”— Indeed, his proneness to the indulgence of his humor, often led him into extremes, and on more than one occasion endangered his person al security’. * * * * Mr. Bacon died on the 2d February, A. D. 1826, aged fifty. His remaius rest in his fami ly burial [dace in Edgefield. The foregoing is from the pen of the talent ed Secretary of Legation, at St. Petersburg!), John E. Bacon, the grandson of Edmund Ba con, Esq. * * * * Edward Bacon, Esq., from the facts obtained through his grandson James, came to South Car olina in 1809, and must, very soon afterwards, have come to Edgefield Court House, and there settled as a layvyer. I first sayv Mr. Bacon at Edgefield Spring term, 1825. Judge Martin who studied law with him at Edgefield, and whom he assisted in his education at Litchfield, was then his partner, and they had a large and lu crative practice. Mr. Bacon married Eliza Fox, at Augusta, Georgia, 29th January, 1799. This amiable and intelligent lady still survives, adorning old age by her and cheerful disposition, which is a blessing to all around her. He left at his death tour children, John, Edmund, Sarah, (or now Mrs. Wigtall,) and Thomas remain. My friend, Dr. Laborde, a Professor in the South Carolina College, says: “ Between the years 1822 and 1825, I was a law-student, in the office of Messrs. Simkins Sc McDuffie ; and Mr. Bacon being there, in the practice of his profession, it yvas my fortune to witness the happiest efforts which he made during this pe riod, at the Bar of Edgefield. It is not for me to speak of the amount of his legal learning—to compare him in this respect with others; but I am not afraid to declare, that his language was •See Soi-thern Field and Fireside, inure 156. col. 2., Sth October, 1859. Art " Who is Ned Brace t" chaste and elegant, and his elocution of a very high order. His natural endowments were ex traordinary. His person was commanding, his face and head uncommonly fine, his voice chord ed musical, and of yvonderful power. His style of speaking was highly fiuislied, and I think I am justified in saying that, as a model of graceful and eloquent elocution, the Edgefield Bar cannot present another entitled to equal praise. Let it not be supposed, however, that j his merit was that of Uie mere rhetorician ; that he won applause because of this artistic skill, i which was exhibited, and exerted none j of that higher influence, winch appeals to the i heart and commands the affections. When the occasion demanded it, no one exhibit ed a livelier sensibility or a deeper feeling, or was | more apt to awaken a sympathetic emotion in | the bosoms of others. “ I remember when quite a boy. that I was much moved by a speech from him, in behalf of a man who was on trial for his life. IDs whole soul seemed melted by compassion—the tears were flowing freely down his face, and he urged the acquittal of the unfortuuate man, with a natural earnestness and eloquence yvhich touch ed every heart. His appeals to the sympathies of the Jury, were those of a man who was pleading for his oyvn life; and when, after fetching most touchingly, the picture of hu man passion and infirmity, the sad heritage of man—he called upon every member of the Jury to adopt for himself the sentiment of the Uni versal Prayer : 1 Teach me to feel another's woe. To hide the fault I see. That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.' “ The effect was electric, and all could see that the prisoner was soon to be restored to his fam ily and friends. In his social character, Mr. Ba con possessed extraordinary attractions. His house was distinguished for hospitality ; and at the social meetings of the gentlemen of Edge field, none contributed more to innocent plea sure and enjoyment. As tho presiding officer of an old fashioned dinner party, he was with out an equal. Abounding in story and anec dote, dealing them out with most generous prod igality, and in away too, which none of his co temporaries could imitate, it is not saying too much, perhaps, to add, that his presence alone was almost sufficient to mitigate every woe, and drive sorrow from every breast." The foregoing is high, and I have no doubt, deserved praise. My acquaintance with Mr. Bacon was slight; yet, I have seen and heard him in Court, and I have no hesitation in saying that he was one of the finest declaimers to whom I ever listened. His voice was equal to that of Judge Gantt, which I have always believed was never surpassed. The following epitaph, written by Judge Longstreet and inscribed on his tomb, is in po etic lines—a just portraiture of Edmund Bacon, Esq.: “ Within this crave, wrapped In his long sleep, Lies one whose doom a wife and mother weep. Whose many friends with anxious sighs regret The loss of virtues they can ne’er forget: The loss of virtues 1 No, the human form, Muy waste below and feed the hungry worm : The heart that kindly felt for others’ woe ; The voice of eloquence, wit's joyous flow May fade away, or rest within the gloom Os Death's doininion—this cold narrow tomb ! But the bright mind on wings of bliss shall rise, To dwell immortal in its native skies.” [For the Southern Field and Fireside.] MUSIC AT NIGHTFALL. Music lias with truth been styled “ the sphere descended maid;" for its first earthly note was StTllCk when the UDlVeirm?, froalx from tho hand of the Creator, hymned its Maker’s praise with its ten thousand excellent voices—when “the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy.” The echoes of that glad evangel have never ceased; in silvery, rippling tones they still give expression to the raptures of human hearts, or in softer strains soothe their hours of sadness, until, beneath the inspiring influence, feeling is once again tinged, prism liued, by the light from the rainbow of Hope, and “we walk among the sun beams, as with angels." The spell of Music owns all places and all seasons for its magic irifluence; but at nightfall is its witching power most prevalent and universally acknowledged—at that hour, which awakens all the poetry of genius and the romance of emotion; which imparts to Nature a most touching beauty, and gives to her tones and a language unknown at any other hour.— Then that spell is woven around us by the breeze that arises out of the West, with long solemn swell; solemn, as if it blew from the Border Land to lull the sun-forsaken earth to everlasting slumbers under the glowing eyes of myriad stars. It is no wonder that ancient po ets fancied the evening wind a chorus of de parted spirits, who thus poured tender lamenta tions along the-air of their native homes. Who that has loved and lost, ever heard that sound, unmoved by memories of the dead? Music at nightfall is heard, too, in the roar of falliug Hoods far off in the forest, or in the '‘so norous flow” of rivers gliding to the sea. It is wafted by in the warbling of those birds that give songs in the night. Every pulsation of the great heart of nature sends forth a thrill of melody, every rustling leaf and waving flower adds to the grand symphony. But perhaps even more potent than this unwritten music is that of audible words and harmoniously tuned strains. It is not so unearthly in the thoughts it stirs; it links one less with the spiritual, but it seems more allied to our mortal sympathies. When one sits alone in the grey, dreamy twi light, the shadowy moonbeams stealing in wavy lines of beauty along the floor and up the walls, the cares of bustling day all silently banished to some oblivious corner of the heart, just then let an old familiar tune fall through the distance upon the ear, and how will it strike “ the elec tric chain wherewith we are darkly bound 1” It may be only a snatch of some unpretending melody, a simple lay of childhood, or one of the quaint hymns heard in the little country church, long ago. But its charm is not lessened by that. At its touch the leaves of our past exist ence unfold and are turned backward, till the later record of tears and toil and world-weari ness vanishes, aud once again the spirit claims fellowship with Youth, and Hope aud Love. — At its first sound, memory enters into the hall of reflection and displays a panorama-like suc cession of pictures upon its walls. Some of them are colored, ah, how brightly, others are of a neutral tint, others still are covered by black clouds, and the figures which compose them stand in spectral array. Slowly they flit along; in imagination we revisit the place where that tune was played, perchance years agone. Tho friends who then surrounded us, re-appear. We hush our breath and listen, till every quick pulse throbs with the mournful bliss of recollection. Fancy hears voices, whose flute-like tones long since died away through the shadowy val ley—sees loving, earnest faces, whose beaming glance was shut out from us in a cruel moment by the touch of Death’s icy fingers. The final echoes of music seem caught up among the eternal stars, even to the pearly gates through which we saw our sainted ones borne. Thus, “ When twilight weeps 'neath the azure veil, And the sweet flowers sigh as the day grows pale, - Angels hover o’er ns on silver wing, H And golden harps in their hands they bring.” And when the nightfall of Time arrives, and the soul prepares to render itself back to the " God who gavo it, let music, rich and deep, blend ing the pathos of parting love with the clear, V firm notes of expectant faith, arise beside the dying couch. So shall it “ greet us last on earth f to meet us first in heaven.” Ziola. *, —— CHILDREN'S COLUMN. A Cure for Discontent. —“Oh, mother," said little Clara, “ I get so tired eating just bread V and butter and potatoes for my supper, and " drinking only cold water out of this tin cup I <■ You do not know how beautiful Mr. Carrington’s table looked to-night when I went home with i the work. They were just taking dinner, and asked me into the dining-room to get my money. Everything was so bright and sparkling. The P tea and silver and the plates of china; and little Ellen, who is no bigger than 1 am, had a cup of v coffee and a little silver cup for water, too. * There were such nice things on the table—fresh J fish and chicken, and everything so good! Don’t you wish we were rich people, too, mother?" & “ My little girl must be careful to keep ‘ Giant Discontent' uut of her heart, if she would be happy. We must be contented to live in the P sphere in which God has placed us, for He knows a great deal better than we do what is v best for us. If you had been with me this mor ning, Clara, and had seen what I did, you would feel more thankful for yc*ir good, wholesome supper of fresh bread and mashed potatoes.” i “ Where did you go, mother? Down to see < poor Margaret again?” “Yes, my dear, and found her worse than pi ever. She cannot go out washing any more, and her two little children were almost starving. v All they had to eat yesterday were some tutnip % parings Johnny gathered from the street.” “ Oh, mother, how dreadful 1” said little Clara, r her eyes filling with tears. “ I wish I could h take my supper to them.” “ They are well provided for now. A kind gentleman, for whom I have been sewing, has p sent them provisions enough to last several weeks. You should have seen how the poor v woman's eye lighted up with joy at the gift, and 1 how eagerly she supped the bowl of warm gruel I made for her. f “ When we ore tempted to fret, Clara, and i envy those who are better off than we, it will be a great help to remember how many are in a great deal worse condition. You have read the p sweet little story about the * Shepherd of Salis bury Plain.' You know his little daughter felt * so sorry for those people who had no salt to eat f on their potatoes,' while they had ‘a dish quite full of it’ p “ Cultivate the same spirit, my little girl, and A it will make even a dry crust taste sweeter than* many a rich man’s dainties.”— S. S. Banner. [For the Southern Field and Fireside.] ENIGMA, NO. V. v I am composed of thirty letters—thus: My 8, 7,6—is the Supreme Kulerof the Universe. 4, 5,11, 27—is in the sky. “ “4, 6, 12—is a “ transgression of the Divine Law.” . “2, 8,6, 7—is destruction. jf “ 27, 9, 25—is recommended, by Solomon, for Juve- \ niies. “ 14,11, 7, 8,11, 21, 9, 28—is a New Holland animal. “ 24,27, 26,12 —is an insessorial bird. P “ 28, 26. 16,27—is a quadru(>ed of the genus Cervus. “ 25. 28, B—is a quadruped of the genus Cunls, . 1 “ 8,9, n, 6 is an animal of the genus Capra. « “ 1, 9,11,18—is a reptile or tne genus Bum. *1 “ 27,11,1 —is a mammal of the genus Mus, ( “ 4, 5,11,8 —is a male quadruped of the genus Cervus. p “ 11, 7,l—is an inseet of the order Hymenoptcra. j, “ 11,10,18,16, 29—is a serpent i “ 80. 26, 24—is an evergreen tree of the genus Taxus. “ 4,11, 7,10 —is “ fine iiarticles of silicious stone.” “ 18,16,24 —is “ precipitated from the atmosphere.” J “ 7,6, 1, 2,15 —is a “ white crystalline salt” " “ 10, 8,4,1 —is “ dry particles of earth.” “ 18,11, 24,14—is “an incision in timber.” J “ 5,6, 7—is a white, non-elastic metal. u “ 1,9, 4—is the coarse part of hemp. '] “ 4,9,11, 22—is an unctuous substance. J “ 30,11, 29,12—is “spun-work.” p “ 29, 20,4, s—is a disease in grain. j “ 80, 26,11, 4, I—is instrumental in raising dongh. m “7,9, 10—is “a quick inclination of the head.” V “ 17, 23,26 —is the author of “ The Raven” poem. , “ 12, 15, 27,23 —fiddled while Rome was on fire. J “ 17,19,24,10, 16, 21—will cause an explosion. “ “ 27,16,10—is a flaming color. I “1, 21, 15,11, 4, 9,l2—is what “Old Brown” should v“ be hung for. ® 1 “ 18, 11,12 —is an abbreviation. f “ 24, 26,25 —is what unmarried men should do. I “ 14, 12, 6,1 —is what girls should learn to do. “ 22. 6,11,12, 23.-is a favorite musical instrument A “ 4, 1,11,8,15 —is a platform. m “ 10 6, 27,14 —is a poignard. ' “ 17,26,11, 21—is a fruit , “ 10. 6, 7,12,15,21 —is a noon-day repast U “ 4,20,17, 22, 26, 29—is an evening meal. , “ 22, 29, 11,18,16,2—is “the Christian's vital breath.” I “ 12, 8,1 —is something for you to crack. “1,2, 30—is what you should do to solve this enigma. % “ 14,15, 26,7 —is what you must be, if you succeed in doing it A My whole is the celebrated exhortation of Oliver Crom well, on a memorable occasion. a Answer next week.' w v E7* Answer to Enigma No. IV.: The Swiss Family J Robinson. " ENIGMA, NO. VI. I I am composed of eleven letters: k. My 10, 8,9, 7,5 —is a female name. 9] “ 4.1,8,11, 2—is the name of a serpent J “ 6,1, 4—is a female name. p My whole is the name of a distinguished Agricultural > Chemist of Georgia. ft Answer next week. \ Charleston, S. C. Fareoot. fcgf The Enigma of Laura, of eighteen letters, will p hardly do. Try again. , Standing Rule.— Enigma* tent for publication f m u«t be accompanied by the real name of the writers , ® as well as the solutions. "j “ F” will please take notica The protest of “ Fannie ” is received. Enigma No. IV. was, it is admitted, above the reach of “the little a folks at home.” Care shall be taken henceforth, that v one , at least in each paper, shall be so low down, that a dear little girl no larger than “Fannie,” (I wish I knew p her,) won't be obliged to jump upon papa’s shoulders, or j even into mama's lap, to reach it She can't guess No. v V. I know. Papa, even, will have to run to his books to find that out But I'll just whisper “Fannie” (she musn'tteli any of the other children, though) that she'll find the name, the answer to No. VI., in one of the forty ft columns of the very (taper she is reading; but I won't tell which—now look I Leather Money. —Every on o has heard of “ leather medals”—the fact that leather money, J which would be literally monnaie de cuir and « queer money, has been issued in this country, is not generally known. The Massachusetts colo- # c ny, in 1729, passed a law to the effect following: > Whereas, great inconveniences and difficulties have arisen to the affairs and trade of this pro vince, for want of small money; for remedy _ whereof: Be it enacted, Ac., that there be forth- ' with imprinted on parchment, the sum of five i hundred pounds in pennies, twopences, and fc three pences of the following figures and inscrip tions, viz.: forty thousand and one pennies to c be round; twenty thousand twopences, four square; thirteen thousand three hundred and -j thirty-three pences to be sex-angular, Ac.— Mass. M Statutes de. 1776, folio, 299. 195