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4 Bfe£»ttMil£irrm4e. RATES OF 61'BSCBIPTIOS SIX MONTHS, *IO.OO LITERARY. SATUBDAY, APRIL 30,1864. CHANGE or SATES.—From and after tke first of May our ternu for the taw asn Fireside will be: Oae Copy, Six Month* - - (10 00 Six Coplea, “ . . SO 00 Single Copies, 30 cents. News Dealer* supplied at {23 00 per llnndred. Although In thus advancing oar rates we have but fol lowed the example of our non temporaries, we have been reluctantly compelled to do so by the advanced coat of matcrl' end labor. We shall endeavor to make the paper tnot. .. ~ -‘i— than ever. In addition to the prize Poem und btui>, wmca we expect to commence at an early day. We hopo to give our readers a variety of original essays, stories and poetry, from the first wri ters of the South. proprietors of the South ern Field and Fireside offer a premium of seven hun dred and fifty dollars for the beat story, and two hun dred and fifty dollars for the beat poem, handed In by the first of May. The story must be auitable, and of sufficient length to occupy five columns of the paper fo r about twenty numbers; and the poem must be from one hundred and fifty to three hundred lines in length. The accepted articles to be copy-righted for the benefit of the proprietera. The manuscripts will be submitted to a committee or impartial gentleman, and but one of each claaa accepted. The proprietors reserve the right to reject all articles offered, if not deemed by the commit tee of suffieient merit. KWWe have a few copies of Vol. I, from January, 18(8, to Sept. 28,18(8, not bounds for sale at {lO each. |4F Mr. A. M. Averell, ordnance messenger from this post, is authorised to receive sub scriptions for the Southern Field and Fireside and Con stitutionalist. {S’* Mr. a Judd, Atlanta, On, is agent for the Field and Fireside. Subscribers who find a X mark on their paper, will know that their subscrip tions are about running out, and will please renew them at onea. CSfTbe Field and Fireside, with other lite rary and dally papers, are for Bale at T. M. Acton’s News Depot, Dalton, Ga. EDITORIAL TABLE-TALK . WITH CPSKKSPONDKNTS AKI> READERS. |“An Jtali.cn Dsham" doe* not quite come up to tbe standard, but the nntlior cans no doubt write a good story. We should lie hap py to have tbe effort made, and the Ma. sub mitted for examination. “Encouragement to Literary Pursuits’’ is approved for publication. Hope the author will Baud on the sketches. “Viroil’l xEnkid,” No. 3 —The author of these esaayß will reoeive a private Dote in re lation to matters mentioned in his letter. A Lady CoRREfiPONDXM writes us that B. F. Taylor, a son of Mrs. L. H. Sigourney, by a former marriage, was the author of “The Long Ago.’’ L. B. C.—Thunk you for the acrostics. We very highly appreciate the sentiment, hut would peefer your sending something else. “Tribute to the Ladies of New Orleans" respectfully dt diced. “Pantheism" and “Aletempsy Mosis” not ap proved’ Try agaiu. Dora.—Poe! ry accepted. C. S. D.—Mss. offered for the Prizes should be accompanied with the authors names. The name should be sealed up iu au envelope, and sent with the package, to Messrs. Stockton & Co. We purpose publishing soon some of tbe snorter poems by Scott, Campbell, Mooret and other standard authors. There are very many of our readers who have been and still are excluded from literature of a high order — jhe books in w inch it is found being inacoet’ sible to tbe common people, and now to be found only in the libraries of the most for tunate who wore supplied before the war. We feel assured that in doing this we will be rendering an acceptable service to many of our readers. “The Last Man Brotherhood,/’ very good for one situated as the author represents him self. Let him persevere. Florence Lavendeu must furnish us with her name to secure attention to her articles or find out any editorial secrets. THE SOUTHERN FIELD AND FIRESIDE. “Mr Bouquet” on file ft > aiertion. Don’t write n* for back nambers- The sup ply is exhausted and subscriptions mutt com mence with the time ot their reception. We i would gladly accommodate our friends if we could, but it is positively, absolutely, categor ically, dogmatically and unequivocal impos sible. Our Contributors must not think that, be cause their articles are approved, that, there fore, they will always appear very soon tbere ’ after. The “pile” is Urge and continually increasing, and it Ukes time to reach many things we desire to publuh. » A Comet is said to be on the way to make us a visit, and as is usually the care, is begin | niug to excite a atir. For our >-irt we like I comets, and should not object to a more fre i quent appearance of the beautiful phenomena. 1 A short treatise on comets may be expected soon in our columns. B. A. S.—“ Bingen on the Rhine" was pub lished last year, but we will try to find a comer for it again before loDg. , 8. B.—We are sorry to say wc have some , old bachelors about tbe establishment, but they > don't i ntend to stay so any longer than they can make better arrangements. The “flower gar dens,” of course, are not to be credited to ~ them. Thero are so many historical works > that it is not easy to give the advice asked. Rollin as a writer of ancient history is highly : esteemed, and Prescott and Maoauley among the moderns, may per.aps meet your wants. You might, though, prefer Abbot as a his torian to those writers, who enter more exteu sively into the matter. A letter for Miss Sallie A. Reedy in the hands of tbe editor cannot be forwarded for want of tbe lady’s address. • Mrs. Cora A. Garrison —Money received, hut no post office given. Typographical errors seem to be insepar able from the art of printing ; especially is this true as respects uowspapera. Many of our friends are doubtless annoyed every week ' to find that the printers have made them say something which they did not intend to say, and think if they had the management of things such mistakes would not occur. For the satisfaction of all such we only wish they could have one week’s experience in a printing office. We should like to see the perplexed aod puzzled expression of their faces as they would discover that, notwithstanding the “proofs” bad been read, revised and corrected, when the paper was “struck ass,” a word was mis spelt, a letter was left out or turned upside down, and good sense turned into nonsense generally. There is comfort, however, in tbe fact that the writer of an article finds more blunders in it than anybody ejso, and it may serve to cool his indignation to some extent to learn from some friend, to whom he unbosoms his wrath at the “rascally printers” and “negligent edi tor,” that said friead didn't see any errors— thought it was all right. ■■■..+.«., A Rainy Day is a good time to repair tools, mend up harness and oil it, make gates, over haul seeds, write labels, shuck or shell corn, examine your meat, cull out decayed potatoes, mend shoes and grease them—shelter all your stock, see them well fed and curried—in short, to do anything that ‘will put your work ahead’ when the weather ‘clears off.' An idle farmer (Am year is an enemy to his country as much as if he deserted her ranks ; an industrious one in ‘his field' as useful as in the battle field. Rustic. Rare Philosophy.—He was a truly brave fellow that Baid: ‘Consider no man capable of insulting you who is mean enough to attempt it. In this you have the decided advantage. For whilst, by the insult, he acknowledges you worthy of his no tice, you, by your neglect, prove him unworthy of yours.’ Such a man would make a better soldier in defence of any just cause than the loudest swaggerer ever heard of. [Written for the Southern Field end Fireside.] A MAY SAY MASQUE. BY J. J. DELCHAMTS. May Queen seated on a flowery thrown be neath a leafy bower. .OPENING SONG. ’Hid the bongha the birds are singing (bis.) Forth their joyous songs of love; - Higher still the leaflets gleaming, (bis) In the sunshine bright above. Bird and leaflet both are telling t That old Winter hoar hath fled, Bad and blossom gracefnl swelling, Burst to fragrance 'neath May’s tread. Roses red with sweets ar e filling Every pasting breath of air, From their petals rich are spilling Odors sweet and incense rare. • Tanefol lips with joy are trilling Forth sweet hymns of grateful praise; Their gratitude bo sweetly telling To their God their souls they raise. Enter Spring, represented by a girl clad in Ignen and decked with flowers, &c. Spring— Flowers, flowers; roses red.' Some for me and some for May. {hands flowers to Mag.) These in my path I found and plncked As from old Winter I ran away. How he did scold and fame and fret When from his smoky hall I slipped ; I heard him hoarsely call my name As o’r the green I joyful tripped : And then he ran npon my track, Bat in a jessamine bower I hid And gathered violets till he turned him back; For I do love the meadow green, When brightly smiles the dewy morn, And every hedge exhales perfume Os violet, rose and snowy thorn! Then I tripped on and when the sun Drank np the moisture with his beam, • I ran into the leafy wood And sought for birds’ nests by the stream. Oh.' there was one so tiny anj) so nice, On a low bramble hung with care, Four little eggs all specked with blue ; 1 just peeped in and left it there. See there ired straw-berries bright and sweet! i found them near the mossy well, Whose sparkling waters overflow j And bathe the lillies in yon dell. But I’ll run on and sport awhile— Methinka Old Winter there I spy* Shaking the grime from off his locks. And see ! there goes a butterfly. (exit.) May- Go merry girl, Hope runs before thee. Thy sky unclouded be, thy tears unlieijuent, Be lit with smiles, as shines the sun 'Mid April showers ; no care impede thy path, Nor dark regret cause thee to mourn For pleasures past. Enter Summer, as a plowman, crowndd with green oak and oarrying a basket of fruits. Summer— Now the clear sun from his high station Darts a bright beam and warms to life The sluggish earth, fades the bright flower, But on the swelling fruit displays the red. If not like Spring in many hues bedeckt. Neither like fading Autumn sad, nor stern As frowning Winter robed in storms, Summer his fruits to May presents. (presents Jruits to May.) Apples with gold and carmine striped, The cooling mellon and the luscious peach. That glad the eye and tempt the lip, With no vain promise ol a rich repast. Not there alone are Summer’s care ; More serious tolls and labors constant Call forth his lusty strenghtb; The gardens close his sinews claim, That a rich store of healthful food May grace the house-wife’s ample board. His, too, to yoke the lowing herd, To turn the sod and clothe with a rich crop The fields by lazy Winter left all bare. Adieu! short space for words! myplowstands idle And my oxen wait. May- Thy bounties claim our gratitude, Thy fruits, from Spring’s fair flowers sprung, Show that in Heaven’s Providence A thing of beauty hath its nsefdlness. And from the treasures of thy toil we learn That honest labor brings a rich reward. , (Exit Summer.) Enter Autumn, as a reaper, crowned with ripe corn and bearing suitable gifts. • AUTUMN— When Summer’* heat lea* fervid glow, And falling leavee are rustling home Upon the fitful breeze, the ripened oom Demands the scythe and on the beading vine The purple clusters tempt the vintager. , Then swell the songs of harvest home, And the strong axels crack beneath the weight Os the rich harvest Autumn claims Itia own. Nor does he yield the palm To pardhed Summer or inconstant Spring, In aught that doth the eye delight, or taste. To May, the Season’s honored Queen, No stinted tribute Autumn gladly brings. (Presents gifts to May) his the rich grape, whose flowing sector Exalts the mortals to the Gods. The mellow russet and the juicy lime, Apples of gold oi famed Hesperian birth, The melting pear and the crisp-nut are his; His plaits with thousand flowers gemmed, r resh mown, exhale an odor richer far t han painted gardens or than vernal woods. Farewell! the yellow harvest claims my care, For close ice girded Winter treads. Mat— Good Autumn, thanks 1 While Spring our paths with flewersstrew, And S' mmer sows the seed, thy prudent care, Like i e busy ant lays up a treasure Against the time of need. - (Ezit Autumn.) Enter Wurra, clad in furs, crowned with mistletoe, bearing a bundle of faggots. Wintis— (laying down faggots.) I must confess, my pretty May, It makes me mad to hear these folks Spin out such stuff in measured phrase, And not content to boast themselves, Must sneer and jibe about their betters. That funny little Spring—well, well! She’s spry enough and may perohance Make some good man a thrifty wife, When she leaves off of chasing butterflies. But that clown Summer, the lazy lout! He talk of work, and crops, and Lord knows what! Yes ! work indeed ' He never fears it; For seven days in every week he’s found Stretched in the Bliade and fast asleep Right By it. And jaundiced Autumn, he’s a brave one, Right good at gleaming what another sowed, Bnt never known himself a seed to scatter. Grumbling ever—never pleased, Now too hot.' and now too bold ! Nipped by the frost or melted by the beat; He, too, must have bis Bay, and call old Win ter names. Oh, never mind them, May ! But when thou’rt tired pelting Spring, A smile to Summer and a nod to Autumn, Than on to grandad Winter’s cheerful borne— Old crusty Winter as they call him— Stop not to knock, but trip the latch, And in the cozy corner by the bright fire Thou’lt find thy chair. Then shall we roast the crab, And quaff the nut-brown ale, while the logs crackle, And the old chimney roars, and safely housed, Laugh at the blustering blast which sportive Shakes the crazy gables as it whistles by. Old Santa Claus, thou know’st him May ? Oh, what a store of fun, the merry fellow! He, too, ’ll be there with all his elfin crew, To deck with charms the wished for Christ- mas tree. How blindman’s bufl will shake the roof With laughter load And long! And hunt the slipper—ha! ha! ha! Then, when thon weariest of indoor-sports, Well swiftly glide upon the glassy lake, Or slide adown the hill—and enow balls! Snow balls, May! In doors and out A thousand sports which no wheie else fhou’lt find. Old Winter keeps for thee. Thon’lt come May? May— % Nay, doubt it not; be sure I shs!!. WiJiTEK— We’ll expect thee; meantime I'll trudge along, Go hurry the mistletoe and pile my Christmas ■bg*. {Picks up faggots.) May— Guardian of the Christinas tree, The social ring, ana all the dear delights That make the joy of home, and knit Each distant heart in sweet remembrance, To some fond spot. Honest old Winter, Pare-thee-well! Though much abused and sometimes stern, None hath a truer heart. (Exit Winter.) Enter lads and lasses, bearing flowers and singing: A