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said they had threatened to return the next day
and burn the house. One of tho marines seeing
a brass button with an eagle oh the old man’s
jacket, cut it off and put it in his pocket, and
another grabbed the poor old man’s calabash
with his tobacco and pipe, saying he would have
a glorious smoke.
The treaty of peace being ratified, Captain
Wildhome occupying the nearest station to the
enemy at the High Point of Cumberland, was
ordered by Major General Thomas Pinckney,
then in command of the Southern Division of
the U. S. Army, to deliver a copy of the treaty
to Rear Admiral Sir George Cockburn, (pronounc
ed Coburn) whose headquarters were at Dun
geonesa, near the south end of the Island, and
propose a cessation of hostilities. Our Captain
selected four of the stoutest of his men over
six feet high, and pulled down in a small four
oared boat to the High Point, where Sir Thomas
Cockburn was stationed, who received him with
great courtesy on the bluff, attended by a num
ber of officers, offering to convey the document
to headquarters—but regretted he could not
allow our Captain to pass through the island;
this proposition was as courteously declined, as
his orders were peremptory to deliver the des
patch! On landing, he had ordered his men to
throw up their oars and remain in that position
until his return; this soon drew around the little
boat a number of short, stubby British marines;
amoDg them one of those jovial fellows from
the “swate Isle of the ocean,” who have so
freely and bravely shed their blood in every
battle field on earth, exclaimed: “ Och, an’ be
me sowl, yer honors, may I be after askin’ ye a
bit of a quistion. Are all the min on tither side
of the river as bulky as ye be ?” “ Oh,” said
the facetious Bill Cone, “ don’t you see, pukey,
the boat is so small the Cap’n had to pick out
the smallest men, as he ain’t nothin’ of achicken
no way you kin fix him.” “Well,” said Paddy,
“it is no wonder we git sich hard knocks and
sich a cussed sight ob ’em.” “Well,” said Bill
Cone, “ sense you’re pon a fair talk, I'll tell you
what, stranger, we’re scrougers when we’re
scrouged into, an I’ll be blest if it wouldn't be a
heap bettor for the whole shoot of you to be at
peace with us—for, not to offend you, mister, in
the least wise, I reckon we kin lick you into fits
and fizzles enneyhow you kin fix it Sept these
yer open fights, an I wouldn’t like no better fun
than to go down on my all fores, and gallop over
a cowpen full of sich pukes as you are, stranger.”
Chapter V.— The Surprise, Ratification of the
Treaty, and Peace Restored.
The refusal of Sir Thomas Cockran to permit
our captain to take his dispatches direct to the
Admiral from the High Point of Cumberland to
Dunginess, where he held his head quarters,
was deemed frivolous and an absurd etiquette,
for in a few days they would have to beat their
retreat and bid a last adieu to Georgia, ad in
finitum/ It compelled him to row round to Dun
giness, and on their way he was overtaken by a
most violent storm, which caused the waves to
leap into the little boat until they expected it
would have filled; and had finally as their only
safety to put into the marsh and wade to the
house of Mr. Sands, on the island. As they
‘cleared the scout, to their astonishment they
discovered an extensive encampment of British
troops among the beautiful oaks around thp
house; some standing, sitting and lying about
their blazing fires of dead live oak. Although
it was a cold, drizzly night, all wet to the skin,
without a mouthful to eat since morning, our
captain could not but call a halt to contemplate
the interesting panorama—the white tents
stretching in a long line amidst the deep shade
of the magnificent live oaks, lit up by the bla
zing camp fires. “ Oh,” he muttered, “ was I
but in command of one thousand such noble
fellows as you are, boys, how we could make
them scamps run 1" “ My stars,” said Bill, “ if I
wouldn’t give one of ray best horses to have a
drag with spiteful Sallie at that fellow with his
short red cotee,” pointing to a little stubby ma
rine with both hands stretched out before the
fire. “We must,” whispered the captain,
“ avoid these fellows, or we may be detained all
night under guard,” and making a circuit, they
came up on the back of the house.
As our Captain turned the corner and was
ascending the steps, a sentinel lowered his piece
to a charge bayonet, and ordered him to stand!
“ Oh, said our facetious captain,” you’r all sur
prised and may have been made prisoners if I
had a thousand men just on this spot, a week
agol”
An officer soon came out and very politely
bowing, invited our captain into a long room
filled with British officers at table, drinking
Hollands as they call gin in small glasses. The
old Colonel Malcomb, with his silver locks, rose,
and taking our captain by both hands, congratu
lated him on the return of peace, jocularly say
ing, it was “ not for the like ov us to be throt
tling ach ith at sick a rate! come noo, sa set doon
an take a bit o’ a dram, for ye seem to bee oould
and wet I” Our captain thanked him and bolted
the bit o’ a dram; although no dram drinker, he
was cold, wet, hungry and shivering. The par
ty soon dispersed and a cot was placed by the
fire for our captain, and two officers with a
blanket each to lay on the floor. At an. early
hour an officer was dispatched to escort the
captain to the Admiral’s quarters, and on arriv
ing, was met at the door by the Admiral and
invited in; when the despatch was handed, he
bowed, saying: “Excuse me, sir, for a moment,”
and 4kfter reading it, took out a gold whistle,
sounded it, when a man in shorts, long stock
ings, and pumps with large siiver buckles, and
a scarled gold laced coat, entered bowing, and
received the document, then turning to our
captain, said an answer would be prepared and
sent in the morning, a place being disignated,
and our captain rose to depart, when he was
requested to resume his seat, and an other
whistle brought in a white waiter in livery,
with a silver salvo, two glasses and a decanter
of old London particular, he supposed, as the
glasses were filled and emptied to a toast from
the Admiral—eternal peace to the two countries!
and the frank sentiment was courteously reci
procated by our captain.
Our captain now wished the Admiral good
morning, but he arose too, and said, “ I will walk
with you, sir." He asked, if the captain had not
lost any slaves; he said, none, but his sergeant
had lost his all, while in the service of his coun
try, and he appealed to him as a soldier to re
store to a brave soldier the slaves in his poses
sion. “That is a more persuasive plea, than
your commissioners made, sir; give me his
name, and tell him to report to me to morrow.”
He did so, and was furnished with a barge, and
recovered all his property. “ You know,” said
he, “it is more than my commission is worth,
to force the people to return, although I never
invited them to come, and want the room they
occupy and the provisions they consume, for the
wounded from Orleans, (for you made a sad bu
siness of it there,) and would be glad to get nd
of the whole.” On seeing the small boat our
captain was in, he Baid, it was “ too small for
such rough weather; allow me to send you in
• my barge,” and a whistle soon brought a barge
with three sails, three swivles, twenty men aad
%
XKK SOTTWKKSJt XXXXtS A3O XX3UKBXSX.
a midshipman, on board of which he handed
me; slipping a card into our captain’s hand,
he said, “If ever yon visit London, find me out
and this card will be of service to you.” Our
captain gave him a warm shake, jumped in, and
as the sails were unfurled, the British flag flaunt
ed over his head, when the polite little middy
rose, bowed, and asked if our captain “ would
have it struck.” “ No, sir,” said the captain,
“ I’ve no prejudices to your colors, and think,
we have sustained ours gallantly. Let them
fly in eternal peace, as your Admiral drank as
a toast to-day."
On arriving at Cabbin Bluff, where the ratifl
cation of the treaty was to be delivered, the
captain invited the midshipman up, and had a
lunch prepared for him of clabber, corn bread,
nice fresh butter and venison steaks with gravy
hominy, which, he exclaimed, was the greatest
blow out he had in all America; and on re
turning with him to the barge, was so fortunate
as to shoot two brace of partridges for him.
The barge, he said, was the flag barge in that
stuped expedition up the St. Mary’s; you could
cover several balls with your hand. The sails
were riddled, and he confessed they had two
hundred and ninety killed and wounded, “ for a
d —m little pond mill we could never find to
burn. Ah!” said he, “you served us meanly,
you poured buckshot into us like peas.” “Well, ”
said our captain, “ when you come here to fight
us, you must expect to be roughly handled;”
he laughed, shook hands, spread all sail—and
thus ended the Border Warfare in Camden Coun
ty, Georgia. The same barge, with Lieutenant
Mantz, of I}is Majesty’s brig Surprise, delivered
a bulky despatch the next day, addressed to Maj.
General Thomas Pinckney, Commander-in-Chief
of the Southern Division of the United States
Army, Charleston, South Carolina; with red
sealing-wax as large as a Princeton biscuit,
beautifullystarapedwith Rear-Admiral Sir George
Cockburn’s coat of Arms; and forwarded to
Colonel William Scott, in command of the Cam
den, Wayne, and Glynn Militia, then stationed
at Brown’s Ferry, on the South bank of the
Great Satilla, near Jeffersonton, in Camden coun
ty, Georgia. And the British flag has ceased
forever, it is hoped, to “ wave o’er the land of the
free and the home of the brave,” in the threaten
ing attitude of war! Free commerce Is •our bet
tor policy, and the adjustment of all differences
by amicable negotiation; for our wars cost more
than we gain, and leaves us in a worse condi
tion at the end than at the commencement, for
they get nothing but hard knocks, and a plenty
on ’em, as the fresh marine said to Bill Cone at
the High Point of Cumberland in 1812, and we
only acquire fame at more than it is worth!—
While European wars effect changes, and pro
duce events disastrous to many, beneficial to
few, unles Sardinia, Italy, and Hungary main
tain their revolt from. Austria in the approach
ing struggle for more empire!
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
LETTERS FROM MY LOO CABIN.-HO. VI.
There were tjvo happy hearts that night—
loving, happy hearts—that dreamed of the fu
ture as a blissful, but undefined bourne, to which
they were tending, without a consciousness of
the realities that were to be met with there.
Over the space that separated them—out of the
curtained and carpeted chamber that hid the
sweet mysteries of maidenhood—flew loving
and joyous thoughts to where the idol of her
young love’s dreams rested, and where she had
just passed one of the happiest days of her ex
istence. Oh! blessed, joyous, innocent youth!
What delightful anticipations are continually
springing up to cheer and lighten it with bright
hopes that may never be realized! ‘lt is ap
pointed unto man once to die,’ and it is the good
fortune of most to be once happy—and that is
when they come to get married.
So unexpectedly pleasant had the day passed
with our friend Ligrive, that in his agreeable re
flections at night, he almost forgot the pain and
mortification he had endured for the last week
or two. And, resting in the memory of the
sweet smiles and love of so beautiful a being as
Adelaide DeQuincey, with the more than half
won approval of her somewhat eccentric, but
right-hearted mother, he was almost willing to
give up his meditated revenge upon some of the
townspeople, for the ridicule they had heaped
upon him. But, unfortunately, the wound to his
pride was too fresh to be so readily healed.
He spent several days at his Uncle’s, and on
his return to town, was accompanied by that
very worthy gentleman; the two riding in the
Colonel’s gig, while a servant drove in Ligrive’s
horse and sulky. The dignified Sancho .-net
them promptly at the door of his master’s resi
dence ; and, on entering, the first thing, Col.
Peyton requested a look at the new style
of dress, and insisted that his nephew should
put it on, that he might judge of it more cor
rectly, which was very readily complied with.
“Itlooks a little odd, of course,” was the Col
onel’s remark, on his nephew’s appearance, ar
rayed in the full suit; “but it nevertheless has its
advantages. I think it will be first rate for bus
iness purposes, as it will permit of more freedom
to the limbs. But I think I should prefer the
old style of dress for formal occasions.”
The Colonel's observation was in keeping
with the tastes and manners of the times.
There was a stiff, staid formality in-them; and I
think it was attributable, in a very considerable
degree, to the stiff and stately costume of the
age. Dress has a great deal more to do with
our manners and habits than would at first ap
jjear to a casual observer. All nations have
been more or less affected by the style of their
costume; and manners and customs have changed
with the change of dress, though so silently as
scarcely to be noticed. The principal national
characteristics of a people may almost certainly
be determined by the style of their dress. And,
I think the same may be said of individual
character. For I doubt not, if it were made, a
study, the general dispositions of persons could
be told by the style and color of their dress,
and the manner of the wearing it, as nearly as
can be told by the science of Phrenology. The
hidden character, some say, is often developed,
in a greater or less degree, in the action of the
body, the walk, the movement generally, Ac.,
but I maintain that the dress is the best indica
tion. If it may not bo so in the opinion of some,
will they answer, then, why all men and women
do not dress alike? Why they have different
fancies of style, and different styles of wearing?
Why some are slovenly and some are neat?
Why some prefer to wear black, some brown,
and some grey ? At any rate, I am certain
nothing can more palpably indicate the “ fast,"
rushing, hurrying, dashing age in which we live,
than the loose style of clothes generally worn;
covering, too often, unfortunately, morals as
loose as the clothes. Our grandfathers and
grandmothers dressed differently, and they
were more staid of manner, and firmer of prin
ciples. We may be regarded as literally “going
it with a looseness.”
It was not a little gratifying to Recklaw Li
grive to observe, on going out, that several of
his friends had donned the new style of dress.
They looked ns if they felt quite easy in it;
though in comparison to the small clothes gen
try, they appeared something like the sailors in
the seaports do to the citizens genorally. But
the material of which the suits were made
for every day use, was of a much less showy
character, and much more economical than that
of Mr. Ligrive’s. And so pleased did Col. Pey
ton become with the style as applicable to busi
ness purposes on the plantation, that before he
left town in the evening, he ordered a full suit
for himself. In truth, it was- not long before
Mr. Thomas Draper had more to do in his line
than the limited number of his employees could
well execute in due time. And his experience
and ready wit had also suggested one or two
alterations in the mode, which he considered as
improvements; but that was as suited the tastes
i of his customers.
On going to his office, Ligrive found every
thing put in as complete order as he could de
sire, by the faithful Sancho. That worthy pro
ceeded to give his master a detailed report of oc
currences during the latter’s absence; and of
the several clients who called on business. He
had already heard, through Mrs. DeQuincey’s
coachman, of the unexpected meeting at CoL
Peyton’s; and not the least gratifying part of
the old servant’s report, were some portions of
conversation between Mrs. DeQuincey and her
daughter, told him by the aforesaid coachman,
of rather a flattering character, as concerning
his master.
“ I tell you what, Mars Rock,” continued the
communicative old negro, whose deep interest
in his young master’s welfare made him bold at
all times to counsel or reprove. “ I tell you
what, Mars Reck, es you des only walk straight,
you gwine get Miss Ada sure. I tell you so,
’cause I knows.”
“Very well. Sancho; I will try to ‘walk
traight,’ as you advise—that is when lam
sober. But I have a little matter to settle with
some of the good folks of this old town.”
“Darnow! You gwine to get into some
mischief, I see; and bimebye gi* ole madam De-
Quincey down on you agin.”
“ I shall not trouble Mrs. DeQuincey.”
“No sah, I 'spec not,” persisted Sancho, be
coming a little warm at his master’s cool man
ner ; “ I ’spec not, but you go do someting dat
make her trouble you!” *
Ligrive gave vent to a hearty laugh. For,
however great the liberty his old servant took
with him alone, he knew him to be ever obedi
ent and punctual to his every wish, and pro
foundly respectful and attentive to him in the
presence of others.
“ Well, Sancho,” he replied, good humoredly,
as he turned round to a table to examine some
papers, “ don’t be uneasy. I must settle with
some of my good fellow townsmen, and my ami
able hoped-to-be mother-in-law may not hear of
it.”
“How she gwine to help it? No sah, she’ll
hear of it; and den you hab trouble.”
“Well, let it be so.”
“ No, rah! Mars Reck, I advise you to let
these ‘ good townsfolk’ go to de debble! I do,
sah!”
•Sancho was getting warmer.
“ I’m sure I don’t hinder them,” was the cool
rejoinder.
“ I know dat, sah. I didn’t mean dat, Mars
Reck.”
“ I know what you meant Sancho,” answered
his master, quietly; “ but I shall settle scores
with them ”
Sancho was about giving “ Mars Reck” a real
“ setting down,” as I have heard some people
threaten, when they meditated expressing them
selves pretty freely to some one who had raised
their ire—or at least it might be judged he in
tended to, by the manner in which he drew
himself up, and the look of astonishment and
anger that was depicted upon his countenance;
for it was, probably, the first time that his young
master had ever point blankly rejected his ad
vice ; and I cannot say what would have been
the result/but just at that moment, a plain
dressed person, apparently from the country,
stepped in at the door. Sancho bowed, and be
came instantly as calm and dignified as was his
wont, and handed the man a chair. There was
not a trace of wrath left upon his features.
“Good day to you, Mr. Hobson,"saidLigrive
turning round, “ take a seat.”
“ Thankee,” said the man, seating himseif.—
“ How do you find yourself to-day ?’’
“Quite well,” Ligrive replied; and then a
pause of considerable length ensued; for a great
many country people will sit for an hour without
telling their business, unless asked. Seeing the
countryman did not broach the subject ot his call,
he observed:
“ My servant just informed me that you called
to see me during my absence from town.”
“ Yes, sir, I railed to see you.”
“ Sancho, go to the Post-office for my letters
and papers ;” and as that worthy went out, Li
grive continued, addressing himself to the coun
tryman :
“ What ran I do for you, Mr. Hobson ?”
“ Well, I sorter wanted to consult you about
a little matter." ,
“ Yes, sir.”
“ There's a feller as keeps trespassing upon
my land, a cutting wood; and I’ve told him two
or three times to quit it But every time he finds
I'm gone from home, he steps over and cuts my
wood. Well, now, you know that’s my main
living, is cutting and hauling o’ wo<sd to sell
here in town."
“ Yes, I often buy from you myself,” interrup
ted Ligrive.
“Yes, you does. Well, I wouldn’t mind giv
ing on him as much wood as he needs, es he’d ax
for it. But he wont: and goes and cuts it to
sell. ' Now you’s a lawyer, and I want you to
tell me what to do.”
“ Well, Mr. Hobson,” proceeded Ligrive, “you
can have your action for trespass, and probably
recover something. But there will be a good
deal of cost and trouble about it. You know
people in the country don’t think much about
taking a little wood.”
“ No, I knows they don’t”
“Sol think the shortest way for you to deal
with this man is, when you catch him cutting
your wood again, just give him a good whip
ping.”
A broad grin spread over the face of the coun
tryman, while the twinkle of his eyes showed
no little sign of spirit and some intelligence; but
he did not say anything.
“ You think that strange advice for a lawyer
to give, don’t you ?” observed Ligrive, ako smil
ing.
“ Sorter.”
“ Don’t you like it ?”
“ Well, sorter. I’d just as lieve lick the fellow
as not, and I b’lieve a little liever.”
“ You do it then," observed Ligrive, laughing.
“But suppose he laws me for it, what then ?”
“ Why just come to me, and I’ll get you clear
for a load of wood."
“Agreed, by golly!” and it was astonishing
to see how the countryman's face lighted up.
A sudden idea seemed to have entered the
mind of Ligrive, for turning quickly to his client,
he asked —
“ Mr. Hobson, can you burn tar?”
“ Well, I liave done it; and I reckon I can do
it again.”
“ What will you burn me a common-sized bar
rel full for ?”
“ Well, I hardly know; but I reckon it would
be worth about two dollars and a half.”
“ How long will it take you to do it?”
“Es I was to go right at it and stick to it, I
reckon I oould burn it in three or four days.”
“ Burn it for me; and when done let me know.
I would prefer, you would not say who you are
burning it for. Don’t let any one know anything
about it."
“Very well, I'll do as you say.”
“ When it is ready, could you bring it to town
for me at any named day? I will pay you for
the trouble.”
“ Yes, I can do that, too.”
“ Then I’ll let you know when I shall want
it.”
“Well, I reckon you’ll have to tell me where
I can get a barrel that will do. As 1 come to
town with my cart, it won’t be any trouble to
take it out with me this evening.”
“ Yes, yes—exactly," said Ligrive, rising and
going to a drawer, took out a Spanish mill dol
lar, and handing it to the countryman, observed,
“ You had better go to Foster’s, and get a wiue
pipe or whiskey barrel—pay for it out of this;
but keep the change till I see you agaiu.”
Just then Sancho returned with the mails, and
the countryman departed.
' I might as well relate tho result of Ligrive’s
legal advice now, as it may not be convenient
to refer to it again. Joe Hobson carried it out
to the letter; and gave Joe Snellings a sound
thrashing. It completely cured his propensity
for cutting Hobson’s wood. As the latter ex
pected, he was prosecuted for assault and batte
ry. But as the battery took place on Hobson’s
land, and at the time of the trespass, Mr. Lig
rive found no trouble in clearing his client of the
difficulty, as he promised ; and Hobson paid the
load of wood. As all is well that ends well, I
presume my legal friends will not care to take
exceptions to the manner in which the case was
managed.
CHILDREN’S COLUMN.
The Land beyond the Mountains.
The little child was dying. His weary limbs
were racked by pain no more. The flush was
fading from his thin cneeks, and the fever that
bad been for weeks drying up his blood, was
now cooling rapidly under the touch of the icy
hand that was upon him.
There were sounds and tokens of bitter, but
suppressed fcrief in that dim chamber, for the dy
ing boy was one very dear to many hearts.
They knew he was departing, and the thought
was hard to bear; but they tried to command
their feelings, that they might not disturb the
last moments as their darling.
The father and the mother and the kind phy
sician stood beside dear Eddie’s bed and watch
ed his heavy breathing. He 'had been silent
for some time, and appeared to sleep. They
thought that it might be thus that he would pass
away; butbuddenly his blue eyes opened wide
and clear, and a beautiful smile broke over his
features. He looked upward and forward first,
then turning his eyes upon his mother's face,
said in a voice—
“ Mr.ner, what is the name of the beautiful
country that I see beyond the mountains?”
“I can see nothing, my child,” said she,
“ there are no mountains in sight of our house.”
“Look there, dear mother,” raid the child,
pointing upwards, “yonder are mountains. Can
you see them now?” he asked, in tones of as
tonishment, as his mother shook her head.
“ They are near me now—so large and so high,
and beyond them tho country looks so beautiful
and the people are so happy—there are no sick
children there. Father, can you see beyond the
mountains ? Tell me the name of that land.”
The parents glanced at each other, and with
united voices, replied, “ The land you see is
heaven, is it not, my child ?”
“ Yes, it is heaven. I thought that must be
its name. 0, let me go—but how shall I cross
those mountains ? Father, will you not carry
me ? 0, take me in your arms and carry me,
for they call me on the other side, and I must
)1
■S°-
There was not a dry eye in the chamber, and
upon every heart there fell a solemn awe, as if
the curtain which concealed its mysteries was
about to be withdrawn.
“ My son,” raid the father, “ will you stay with
us a little while longer ? You shall cross the
mountains soon, but in stronger arms than mine.
Wait—stay with your mother a little longer ;
see how she weeps at the- thought of losing
you.”
“0, mother—o, father, do not cry, but come
with me and cross the mountains—o, come!”
and thus he entreated with a strength and ear
nestness which astonished all.
The chamber was filled with wondering and
awe stricken friends. At length he turned to
his mother, with a face beaming with rapturous
delight, and stretching out his little arms for a
last ombrace, he cried, “ Good bye, mother, I am
going; but don’t you be afraid—the strong man
has come to carry me over the mountains.”
They were his parting words. Upon Ids
mother's breast he breathed his las% and they
laid the little fair baby down again upon the
pillow, and closed his lids over the beautiful blue
eyes, over which the mists of death had gather
ed heavily, and bowing by the bedside, they
prayed with submissive, but bleeding hearts,
and said, “ The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh
away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Lazy Boys.— A lazy boy makes a lazy man just
as a crooked twig makes a crooked tree. Who ev
er raw a boy grow up in idleness that did not
make a vagabond when be became a roan, unless
he had a fortuue to keep up appearances. The
great mass of thieves, paupers and criminals
that fill our penitentiaries and aim-houses, have
come to what they tire by being brought up in
idleness. Those who constitute the business
part of the community, those who make our great
and useful men, were trained up in their boy
hood to be industrious.
When a boy is old enough to play in the
street, he is then old enough to be taught how
to work. Os course, we would not deprive child
ren of healthful, playful exercise, or the time
they should speud in study, but teach them to
work little by little, as a child is taught at
school. In this way he will acquire habits of
industry, which will not forsake him when he
grows up to be a man. Many persons who are
poor, let their children grow up to fourteen or
sixteen years of age, before they put them to
labor. Such children, having no idea what work
is, and having acquired habits of idleness, go
to impose upon the employers with laziness.
There is a repulsiveness in all work set before
them, and to get it done, no matter how, is their
only aim. They are ambitious at play, but dull
at work. The consequence is, they don’t stick
to ono thing but a short time; and they rove
about the world, get into mischief, and finally
find their way into the State prison or aim
house.
ENIGMA XXXI
I am composed of twelve letters:
My 1, ■O, 6, 12—a common name.
3,6, 4,7, 6—a very useful animal.
11, 9,7, 12—a small bird.
1, 10, 8-—a noted Bible character.
6, 2—a river in Italy.
My whole i a the name of a distinguished Geor
gian- E. L. W.
Morgan County, Ga. *
x ENIGMA XXXII.
I am composed of thirteen letters:
My 1, 5,8, 13—a pretty wild animal
8, 12, 6-- a fish.
7,2, 11, 6, 13—essential to life.
8,2, 10, 11—a point of the compass.
9,2, 12. 13—a wild beast. •
9,2, 4,11 —used in fishing.
3, 8,12,1, 6, s—a useful article in a lady’s
work-box.
My whole is the name of one of the greatest
Statesmen of the United States.
Savannah. W. Harden.
ENIGMA XXXIII.
I am composed of twenty-one letters:
My 1,6, 3—serves a spider for a house.
4,5, 6,7, 21, 2—a celebrated English author.
15, 18, 20, 7, 21—a domestic utensil.
16,17, 2—a favorite beverage.
8, 9,19, 1, 13—a vulgar humorist, or an ill
bred person.
10, 11—a word the sailors use for yes.
12, 13, 14—a copulative conjunction.
My whole will show the names of three very
eminent American Statesmen. Robert.
ENIGMA XXXIV.
I am composed of twenty-three letters.
My 26,18, 10, 15, 19, 21—one of the planets.
1,6, 20—an insect.
18, 9, 21, 18—a girl’s name.
17, 18, 16, 19, 3, 32—a bird.
16, 19, 4,7, 11—a Wild animal.
22, 18, 14, 15, 10—a fish.
6,8, 21—a cavern used for shelter.
19, 12, 4, 20, 16, 11—a boy’s name.
4, 16, 18, 21, 6, 16—an intoxicating liquor.
My whole is what all children should do.
Savannah. Wm. Harden.
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, ETC., OF LAST WEEK.
Enigma XXVIII: Love thy Neighbor.
Enigma XXIX: Emmerson Bennett.
Enigma' XXX: Babylon and Nineveh.
Puzzle: Zapnath-paaneah. (Gen. xli: 45.)
ANSWERS RECEIVED.
To Enigma XXIV, from nenry B. King, of
Augusta; Francis W. StanseU, Williston, 8. C.;
C. D. H , Savannah; Mannie N., Americus.
To Enigma XXV, from Mannie N.; C. D.
H.; F. W. S.
To Enigma XXVI, from 0. D. H.; F. W. 8.
To Enigma XXVII, from F. W. 8.; C. D.H.
To Enigma XXVIII, from Farroot, Charles
ton ; George P. Meredith, Orangeburg, S. C.;
Fanny, of Washington; W. M. Mitchell, Macon;
Jappie, Oxford, Ga.j Delta, Athens; Clayroot;
Caro M- Clayton, Kingston, Ga.
To Enigma XXIX, from Fanny; W. M. M. ;
Jappie; Farroot; G. P. M.; Delta; Clayroot.
To Enigma XXX, from Jappie ; W. M. M.;
Fanny; Clayroot.
To Puzzle, from Old Lincoln, Savannah.
ty Enigmas received from Caro M. Clayton,
and M. S. Clayton, of Kingston, Ga.
ty The Enigma sent by C. D. H., and sev
eral others, declined—because they are not pro
posed in proper form, as to answer, Ac.
ty We cannot publish “ Titan’s ’’long Enig
ma of thirty-nine letters. It would ofl'end the ’
young lady's friends and herself also. At least
we think it ought to. Besides, we don’t like
that detestable dog-Latin dulcis cordus for
“ sweat-heart.” Mea cara is much prettier, and
besides, is good Latin.
“Titan” sends us a second Enigma, but
• does not comply with our rule as to preparation
of the answer, or key to it. We really cannot
spare the time to prepare it ourselves—yet we
must be able to see, at a glance, that the Enig
mas are acceptable. His last is. therefore, in
“ the basket." *
“Robert” sends us a Charade which is not
good enough for publication. Charades and
Anagrams, to be worth publishing, should have
some point in them. See remarks and speci
mens in former numbers of this paper.
Enigmas, also, should be sent in expressed
grammatically; for instance, “ 1,6, 9,7, 14, is
a useful domestic utensil” is not good gram
mar. The letters indicated by the figures ex
press or are the name of a useful domestic
utensil—but they “is not a useful domestic
utensiL” Heretofore we have usually corrected
the form of enigmas sent in, so as to make
them less offensive to grammar, sense, and good
taste. Contributors will please remember the
rules, and write correctly.
Os all the materials for making flutes, neither
ebony, nor cocoawood, nor glass, nor silver, nor
gold, nor boxwood, nor any other known sub
stance, is equal to vulcanized India-rubber. The
manufactures of the world-renowned flutes, after
repeated experiments and the test of several
years’ use, have decided to adopt India-rubber
as the principal material in their extensive man
ufactory.
Why is Luther Represented with a Swan ?
—John Huss is represented with a goose, and
Luther with a swan ; and the explanation given
in Lutheran churches, where the representation
occurs, is that John Huss (whose name in Bohe
mian signifies goose) used to say, “ Though they
kill this goose, a swan shall come after me.”—
[Notes and Queries ,
A good printerwill set about 8,000 ems a day,
or about 24,000 letters; the distance traveled by
his hand will average one foot per letter, going
to the box in which they are containecL and of
course returning, making two feet for oilry let
ter he sets. This would make a distance each
day of 48,000 feet, or a little more than nine
miles, and in the course of a year, leaving out
Sundays, the member travels about 3,000 miles.
Truly this is hand power.
Mrs. Macrbady, the reader, was so frighte
ned by the attempt of a burglar to break into
her apartments at Waterbury, Conn., on Thurs
day evening of last week, that she lost her
voice, and was consequently obliged to break
an engagement to read in public. She is now
under medical treatment
291