Temperance crusader. (Penfield, Ga.) 1856-1857, August 20, 1857, Image 1

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A ~ ■ ■■! ‘• - - —±~uli -LU JT-r-1- --- .. . M*I Ho #mJM ISO M SMffTilDl Sul4 MsM, Ift wBM BUfaM. * yJmiy] A nmu ißc- ££*>• tar Hb{’ f M lJm*\ Mnl ,jw M. V l us \MB B\j|a ®3f<™ fWt .TbS?;^ W iHE 4KI - ’ Pin |!i ■& ! -v ■\v fmi j Mat w lE* £\ fl Jl k ly ®?m\ El In i <® i iH&ck ij ■\ W |ImB |R y f f j. (jwlw®* y \ w p 4Dr i iW ‘ S%l)k> oj fi?v Rv UHI>I ~~lp|PKw ‘ 1/3 I JPlft MIII WMmmJ iM m Imli ft mjR B \¥UJjmJmw Rftj/PLflli%F m feSISi PJI w HMJ \zJ m m&r ESI Is % © m m the stiie mmm m of mmmi m m hike of imm of jisicho. JOHN’ 11. SEALS, EDITOR & PROPRIETOR. NEW SERIES. VOL. 11. PUBLISHED RVERY THURSDAY, EXCEPT TWO, IN THE YEAR, BY JOHYH. SKATES, TKRMS I fl,Ofo in advance: or sq.no t the end of the year. RA.TKS UF AO VKKTtSINO. 1 square (’twelve linea or less) first insertion,.. fl 00 Each continuance, 50 Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding six Unas, per year, 5 00 Announcing Candidates for Office, 8 00 STANDING ADVERTISEMENTS. I square, three months, 5 00 1 square, six months, 7 00 1 snnare, twelve months, ....12 00 2 squares, “ “ ......18 00 3 squire*, “ “ 21 00 4 squa-es, ** “ ..................25 00 sss” Advertisements not marked with the number of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. gggp“Merchants, Druggists, and others, may con tract for advertising hy the year, on reasonable terms. LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS. Sale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square,... 6 00 Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square,— 8 25 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 8 25 Notice for Leave* to Sell, 4 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 6 00 Citation for Lettcris of Dismission from Guardi anship, 8 26 LEGAL REQUIREMENTS. Sales o f Land and Negroes, by Administrators. Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the after noon, at the Court House in the County in which the property is situate. Notices of these sales must be S’ iven in a public gafcette forty day* previous to the ay of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given at least ten days previous to the day of sale. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be published weekly for two months. Citations for Letters of Administration mast be published thirty days —for Dismission from Admin istration, monthly, six months —for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub lished monthly for four months —for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of three months. will always be continued accord ing to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. For the Crusadet. So Coldly, So Calmly the Tidings I Mot, A SONG —BY EMMIE EMERALD. So coldly, eo calmly the tidings I met, That none e’er knew of the deep lasting regret. That weighed on my soul, that poisoned my life, And made the fair earth with ruin and daiknesa all rife. They dream not, wTfo see me with laughter and gai ety, Move ‘mid the yftniig in the ha r ss of festivity. That cold in mv bosom, nil broken and bleeding, Lies a Sad heart on which so-ro wis feeding. They know not that far from that throng of the gay, My “thoughts o'er the o*ean are winging away, To a land of the east, a bright isle of the main, Where deep in the cold earth, my hero they’ve lain. He died—and he sleeps in a stranger land, Where they scooped out a bed on the serf beaten strand ; No flower will deck that lone mound hy the deep, No mourner will sing o'er it, and grieve for his sleep, When last T beheld him—my bemtilul one— How tittle I thought th*it his race was near done; That boon he would sleep in a for away grave, Wrapped in the flag of the fnrie, the shroud es the brave. His love sighs for him alvray—l weep for him wak* insr, And his form haunts the dreams that steal o’er my sle ping; Rut not long will I weep—not long will I sigh, For my heart is fast breaking, Soon gladly l’U die. A coot a, Ga. For the Crusader. The Sad and Dreary World- BY JO UN (I. STOKES, At times the world seems sad and drear, And life, a curse, a phanturned fear; Our fondest h'-pes before us fly, Like melting c raids to azure sky. The very spot on which wt- stand, Seen s Ike the d'eary ocean srr .nd; TLe air that stirs, is filled with dea h, That chills our hearts at every breath. With one last hope v, e seek the friend, W ho, oi.ee we did ran pay lenu; Bir aye! a as! he dun not know, The helping hand ol years ago. Proud in wealth, he turns with scorn, To bla>t our hope ’ere it is born— A aiddened spell now darks my soul, Bu*, fate, the hands of Heaven control. For He, who rules with mystic wand, And holds the world within h : 8 hand; Whose voice can cease thw thunder's roar, Or q :ell the storms forever more— Whose magic touch can raise the dead, Or stake the earth at Fortune's triad— Or, shed around a holy light, iShechiaahf sweet, in splendor bright For sure as Heaven has made the ligh^ To folio*’ quick, the steps of night, So sure does Love, she child of peace, Dispel our bars and bid them cease. For L’fe itself is hut a span, The chequered breath of wayward man ; And though the drugl tis bitter here, A song of pr*c; iei.l gieet our ear. * >A eehinah, the name of th* miraculous light tr vlfiihl- e'an, which vti the symbol of the pre* tenet of God, 1 For fch* CrofftAer. The Two Graduates; on, ! MODERN EDUCATION/ if CORA LOGAN. “ To-morrow ! Oh 1 to-morrow! and then we’ll be free—unshackled—unfettered by a single role; not one hard-faced duty to scare os from pleasure ,* don’t you wish to-rvorrow were past, OciaviaT’ 6aid pretty Emma Norris, throwing herself upon ft seat. a Well, no, Emma ; Tm not so anxious as you seem to be; I look upon the day as she rabicon of our lives, the past has been but a school-gir dresm of happim-es— the future, not# a fair enough page ; tut who c m tell what characters time may there n inscribe. I take the duties of iifo upon me with much awe—its duties are solemn.* “ Oh! do hush your serraonizi g ; you do take such matter-of-fact views of everything—don’t the prospect of the Springs and the Commencements we are to attend this Summer, arouse you to some degree< f enthusiasm? Why, Vm peifoetly wild t the very idea, but you are so phlegmatic. w “No, I am not; my heart heats wildly enough win n l think tomorrow my dear, dear motb-r will be here, and I must confess the Springs and C< nnnenc* ment* give rae some pleasureabl© emo t ons,” said Ocavia. ** Ah, Oetavia May, I’m glad to find that you are somewhat mortal—to tee that yon are not really such a ‘mode! young lady’ after afi. My father and mother will he litre too, but 1 mast to bed, Or I shall he a fright on the all important morrow.” “ Well, a very good night to yoti then; I ratist a few more hours from ‘ tired nature’s sweet restorermv comp sUioa is not polished Op y© nd the finishing touches must he given before I sieep.” “ Phase tie the ribbon in mine, when yon are doing yours?” “ I’ll tie roure with pleasure; as for mine, it must do without other ornament than the little merit it may possess,” said Oetavia. “ Why do }ou object to the ribbon, Oetavia 1 Yon are the strangest girl 1 I believe you do it just to be odd,” said Emma, opening her sleepy eyee. “ Cham i ami gmt ; but I never eoffid take the trouble to be eccentric.” “ Good night-, Em. Your eyes are closing.- Seek goodness, and the world will be sure to Call you odd.” “ Pleasure k my watchword, good night. In the morning, will be the last time perhaps, you’ will ever bare to earl my hair, eo please rise be times.” .The morrow came; a* bright, gtoflotts summer day; and with it assembled a “goodHe cofhp.ihie” • f Georgia’s fivreet and moni intellectual, to wit ness the graduation, and to welcome On the open arena of life a l and of eager, hopeful fipirti*.—- Proudly every heart th hid have beat in that vast assemblage, to Lave seen the modest ease and grace with which those young girls passed an or deal which a few short years since, it was thought that the “ Lords of creation” alone could pass. Amongst that throng, our two acquaintances, Emma Norris and Oetavia May, shone conspicu ous. Emma with her gr-iden ends and merry iose-bud free, looked, ra will as spoke a genial welcome to all; and lastly with deep pathos, Oc tavia bade adieu to all. She resumed her seat, and not an eye refused its tribute to her touching farewell, ller own lip trembled, and her pure cheek paled, for as she had said, she fully appre ciated the weight of the solemn duties she that day assumed—duties that were life-long. CHAPTER IT. “Twelve miles yet, of this hilly, jolting road! Emma, my dear, I give you credit for unusual patience. I have not beard one word of com plaint from you all this long, hot day.” “ I have bee t too busy with my own thought#, Papa, to become impatient at either jolts or heat, as Oetavia May would say. I have forgotten one duty however, that is, to make mysftlf more ei.teriai ning to you and Ma’ma. I fear you have formed but a p<x>r opinon of yottr daughter's con versa ional powers, from the specimen given to day.” “ I’m only glad yon don’t feel dull, my dear. Your mo.her and I have b-en together too long to ire of each other’s society now,” said the father. “ Were you never the least bit tired of each other, Papa ? I’m often curious to know if mar ried people never tire ? There is Oetavia May, fe< n engaged* i-ix whole months. I often tell her i would not do for a man to trust-we that long.” “ Wait til’ you are really in love,little one,and then y<*u'll change jour tunc, I guess. I have * clmu’ the hill of life with your mother, and never felt one hotti’a ennui nidi her yet ” 44 Well, that is wonderful 1 past my compre hens on as je, but Mama, whai do you say ? can you return Papa’s compliment?” “ We are g’ tting too old to discuss steb roa * Wra nojr. I should dkdkft to see you marry with four present leering* ” PKNFIKI.Ii. GA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 20, 1857., “ Oh, dear, Mama, don’t talk to me of marrying ret, Why, I’m not sevfntfen! I h*v© a whole year to enjoy life yet; one blissful year of flirting dancing, drearing and living, and then I shal gracefully gl-'de into that precious piece of insipid ly ’yclept an American married woman.” % ’‘lndeed you are much too young and Ignorant to marry yet ; it i* because such as yourself rake upon themselves the responsibilities of marring* in this country, that the reproach of insipidity may” be preferred sga nst them.” “ How old, toy dear, were you when you tool opon yourself the responsibility of marriage?’ asked Mr. Norris, wiib a smile. “ Having married at fifteen, I know the dread vantages of entering the state in youthful ignor ance.” “ And with a poor man at that! Emma rek* voor fatlur’s advice, and never take a poor man.'* “ Never fear, Paj*a, I love luxury o’er well now, Oetavia says.” ‘* When wi 1 Miss May meet ire, my dear ? 1 like her very much. I can safely recommend ht-r to your continued iiking,” said Mrs. Norris. “Oh ! I love and respect her thoroughly, M*- ma, and always shall. They will not be at t* Springs betore the lat’er part of they week; thej are to be accompanied by Octavia’s fianrie. Mr- May, jou know, is a widow, and quite a m<de! woman I be ieve; but 0 tavia is the very hve test, most interesring giri I ev. r saw, what a pity -he >s engaged, ahe would hare been a belle.” “ Wdl aim be mAn ied soon ?” “Oh, dear, no Mama! do let me tell you wha a eomplftie sacrifice Mm. May intends makngo her *Atr daughteronly the r*nra nder of this year will she be allowed to enjoy life; the n x she teaches, and the cext year remain at home t< learn domestic icouomy from her estimable Mh ma, and then ihe can marry if Paul Holmes holds out faithful so long. Now, don’t you tnink it is a sheer Wfe-te of the go >d things of this life !” 44 PerhAps they are in straightened circumstan cm, my daughter.” 44 Oh no! very wealthy *, and Oetavia is a great heiress. Paul is poor, and Mrs. May SHys Oe avi must be fitted for a poor man’s wife. Isn’t that a new idea, when she has enough for both ?” “ She m>iy be too young}” “ No, she Is now eighteen-—old enough to be married. I know if I am single at that age, 1 shall give up for an old maid.” “Go ahead Em ! Marry ! It Is woman’s d<>ft tiny. The sooner accomplished, the better,” says her father. “Not tired of me in two days, I hope, Papa, l assore you I hate ho intention Os leaving yon till my year of grace has fully exphed.” 1 No, no! not tired yet, my pet; Int here we are at ihe Springs! What a g<y throng! Per haps some of yon Don Whiskmndo’s may change some of your present resolves.” “Not a moustache, sir, for they are my utter detestation.” Quite a sensation our pretty little Emma crea ted at the Springs with her fresh, pure joy - otisne3 and lovely face. To htr the world’s adu lation was new, and ehe eagerly snatched the cir c an cup and held it laughingly to her rosy lips. It was an evening towards the close of the week of the arrival of the Norris party; the company were at! assembled in the dancing sa’oon; rare muric threw its witching charm over the scene; sweet flowers breathed their perfume around; wo men looked lovely, and men gallant, an 1 “ail went merry as a marriage bell.” Emma Norris, one of the brightest things in that bright scene, tore her self from aJcnot of admirers, and running up to her mother’s quiet corner, *aid, “ Oetavia has come. I have seen her only n few moments. Mrs. May is too much fatigued to ome down this evening, so b- gs you will take charge of her daughter. Ob ! there she is now ! What a queen she is H Very truly did Emma rpeak ; for what could be more majestic than the simple loveliness of that young girl, as with-quiet grace 6he entered the gay saloon, clothed jn simple white, with her black hair parted over her pure brow in rich wavy bandeaux, embellished with a single white came lut—her large dark eyes roved around w.th a quiet air of admiring wonder. “ Jhat is, that must be, Paul Holmes with her. What a fright he is ! No whiskers—not even h m ustache, I declare; but they, are looking for us. Shall I beckon to them, Man* *?” B *id Emma, as aha watched thrir progress dowo the long sajoon “ Ah, Emma! here you ro at last. I’m glad to see one familiar face. Allow me to introduce Mr. Holmes; he already knows my little Emsna; IM consign him to your care whilst I speak to your “Good evening Mr. Holmes. Mama and l are so gtftd you are hero at last, Ootavia.” “ Won’t you. extend that kind welcome to me too, Miss N'*rr.s; I need it more than Miss M y; I Assure you I feel lonely enough in this crowd ot gay strangers ” “You brought your we’cqme wish you, Mr. Holmes. Any person or anything wouid he wel come to tn. W'tr> Oc avia.” ” Thank yon for 4i*t faint glimmering ev6n; confer another favor now, by danring this next set with me f Octivia welt attended by a crowd •of acquaintances.” “ With p'easare, then.” During the evening, Ocavia whispered to Em ma, with a mischievous smile, 4 * Don’t you ut’.er'y detest a moustache T With a cliarmirg blush, Enams replied, “The moustache is the least of Mr, Spencer’s itnracrions ; but, qh! your Haul C^j—keep him >ut of my wsy, for my young a Sections may suf er.” [7b be Continued.) To r th* Cnadr . Back Door Doggery Club! No, 4, S. ot L. By Sam S lick, Ja. At the appointed time, Bro. Whisky Blossom one rp with o and Junk, and called the meer ng to order. Sec'v Walkingdom j<<hn being ab - nt, B o Rd No-e was reque-Vd to act as S-c’y, who entered at once upou the duti sos his offi e Bro. Wh.eky 13 os>oin Dquesiei Bro 8 c’y to cal: e roll of officers, which was done, ad the fol sowing officers were abs-ent; Sec’y W<,lk:ngdenri- I -hn, Bro. Bungsucker, and Drinkmuob. Tne ninut* sos the last meeting was then read, *nd on nut on of Bro. Su< k< ider, was confirmed. The • ol! of absentees at the last meeting was tnen call ed, and Brother Red Nose and Nevernot-er, Were xcused ; (excuse, too drunk to get there.) Bro. OliurchniemK*r was then Called up n for his ex use, which was, out of town. Bro, NevCrsoWr wished to know, if during his a‘ ftence he was sup plied Wi.h the pneiom critter, when on examina tion, it was found that the Brother had only taken dire© quarts to last five days, from which he was .suspended from participating in the deliberations •f that meeting, but whs afterwards adm t'ed by he pavment, as a of on© gallon of liberty juice. Bro. Nevereober remarked that it was a long time betwt-en drinks, and for his part he was very dry ; when on motion of Bro. Moderatedrioker, to liquor the club made a general rush for old Junk which was not set at liberty until every drop of the precious critter was exhausted ; during the ex citement caused by the general rush for old Junk Bro. Whisky B o-som was heard, at the fop of hi* voice crying, “Order erder,” but the CTy was un heeded, and the effort to preserve otder was so great, that it Overcome Bro. Whisky Blossom, a ho, at the close of the excitement was and acovercd to be laying stretched on the floor swearing in a low half tone, that he believed the whole club to be a set of liquor drinkers, and peace breakers, and aft for himself if he ever received strength, he would leave the whole concern in disgrace. At the same time, “Bro. Suckcider was found laying in the cor ner of the non with old Junk in bis arms, ring ing the opening ode of the club. “Oh, I am a used np man” (hie) The report from the committee on the “good of the order” was then read by l3ro. Drinkmuch. To the officers and members of the B. D. I). C. No. 4, S. of L. Macon. Brothers, your committee having had the sub ject for which (hie) they were appointed under consideration and having put (hie) forth their strongest and best efforts to gain ail the informa tion On the (h e) subject, agree in recommending the (hie) adaption of the following. Whereas these so called friends of humanity-*- ihe Knights of Jericho, have sprung up in our community and increased at a rate that re well Calculated to dishearten the sons of liberty and paralize our efforts to do good, therefore be it Resolved, That from and after this date any person, shall bo enritled to membership with us who is able to iurnfeh (aided by the washing done by his wife.) one quart of liberty juice per day. Resolved, That the price of initiation be and the same is reduced from two gallons to one gal lon three pints ns we find this ample to meet oar wants at any one nigat of meeting. Resolved, That we call upon all the 6. of L. tbrooghoui the State to lend their a>d in pulliag down these “Kn’ghts of Jericho,’* which threatens to de-troy our order and blot ns oat of existence. A1 of which is before you. WALKING DEMIJOHN,) 0 BUNGSUOKER, C § NEVERSOBER. ) f V hen on motion of Bro. Lovegin, the report was received and the Committee asked to treat the club for the honor conferred upon them which mo tion was carried. On motion of Bro. Bungaupkor the bottle was ordered to be passed around by Bro. Red Nose, and overy Brother reported who refused to drink, which was ft trried. Bro. Red Nose reported thtc ir.'-mhers, too drunk to drink, and moved they be fined one qaart, lor being *o easily overcome be fore the business of the evening was disposed of, which was carried. The meeting then adjourned. RED NOSE, Sec’y Pm. Temp. MORAL. r Genrio reader, shal I tell yon, this very Back Door Doggeiy Club is Jo existence in our beloved Georgia. Just pa through the alleys in our cities, all over the State, even on the Holy Salv b;.th, and you will bo ab'e behold the scenes we have endeavored to portray to you, here as an evil; now .the ques io i arrive*, “how is it to be met?” Remember the time to bring out your candidate to represent vku in our legislature is drawi- g nigli • ipok well to your votes, nor to a'-k is he an American or a Democrat, but, ‘‘ls he a Temperance Man ?” Let it lie uhder>tood that yon vote for the man wh > comes out on th best Tempprence platform, and be ye well assured that the time will not be long, when you will see. that the balance of power, is in the bands of the Temperance men of Georgia. Macon, July 23d, 1851. for th* CruKAdw. “I Always Speak Exactly as I Think.” BY JSKXT WOODBINE. No you don’t, so there’s no use m saying so. Why, things would soon come to a pretty pass if you did; and you would be htired from society my dear, candid, 4 * speak as I think” friend. Do yon speak exactly as you think, whe:i you ted that honjriy young lady, whose nose is run r.ing away front her mouth in a side-long and rec iou, and wh< se eyes j re remarkable for their tin meaning expression, that she “ looks charming!’ ■n her new rob**;” when all the time ynn are wan dering whereabout* in the v ide world he found -m b an (Abfashioned dress-maker, *nd laughing at the eae w th which her vanity swal ows down your fl dtery 1 Do you speak exactly as you ‘.link, when you t 11 that friend of yuitts, who has not a partic e ot taste, that bets is a perfect dock of n b >nnet, and sets off her brilliant complexion finely,” while in wardly you are Wishing she had selected some thing loss showy, and more in accordance with good, sense ? Do you speak a* yon think, when you embrace your Rail-wny or Sprirgs’ acquaintance vehement ly at parting, rubb ng your desperately with an embroidered handkerchief for tears w hich have no notion of flowing, and say to her “I will remem ber and love you aluwys when you know very well before you reach the next station, you wiii be oh a ting gaily with another new friend, almost forgetting her very existence! Do you speak as you think, when you take that roll of white muslin in your aims, which envelopes a round-headed, red-faced, ngly specimen of baby hamanity, kicking and squalling in infant!© rage, and mAkirg all sorts of faces , and tell its young mother that it is “her very image, and a perfec love of a baby;” while all the time you are won dering if anything ngher or more disagreeable Could be found, and staring at her in perfect as tonishment for cal! ng it “ Musters eweetest pret tiest darling.” Do yoa speak as you think, when you praise yoar literary friend’s unpubli.-hed work, and as sure her it is “a capital thing—a clever hit— which wiTl eclipse anything of the kind produced and all tho time you are wondering if she will be fool enough to pat it in print ? Or speak you yonr Becret thoughts when you declare her last letter was “a perfect jewel,” (you yawned over it,) and you “will answer it with the greatest pleas ure ; when you know yon have “fiat it off” for weeks and weeks, and “ dreads it like a dog.” l>o yoo speak as you think, when you praise yoar rival to the actual of your ideal; or tell her yon “ hope she may be happy” with the fellow that out of all the world you would have selected for yourself? Yon may, but tA? doubt it — we do. Do you flatter y urself that von speak as you think, when you vow to all your acquaintances that you “intend to be an old maid, and would’m marry for worlds,” and sing in the presence of somebody , “Oh no! I never will marry, I'd rather live single by far.” Do you speak as you think, then?■ No, that you don’t; for if you dared, yoa would say, “why in the name of common sense don’t jou propose, you Stupid r Do j ou speak as you think, when you say smi-. lingly to your hostess that you have passed “a charming evening;” when you know full well you sat in the crowded room, a neglected “ looker on in Vienna,” watching with intense delight (/) thi but too successful maneavres of some brilbant co quette, who danced the Scbottisch wi<h your lover; wore in ber bosom tbe flowers you had given tin faithless knight, and robbed you es all hie admir jug glances 1 Do you speak aft you think, when you tell you> attendant cavalier you are “very happy” to take hie pr ffered arm, wbiie all the time you are dying to go with someone else, who does not think enough of you, or is too b ashful to a-k you ? And you, young h< ‘usekeeper, whose onlv ser vant is absent, and who have to answer the door bell in your morning wrapper, and usher som. fashionable friends iuto a parlor, whose furniture yn have n it had rime to du-t, do you speak ex actly as you think, whan you say wth graci u air, 44 1 am delighted to sen you while you sit tbttt twisting on yottr chair, brushing back yottr TERMS: M $1 la advance; or, $2 ai the end of the year* JOHN IT. SEALS PROPRIETOR. VOL. XXHI.-NUMBER 33. dishevelled locks occasionally, and blushing lor the appearance of your collar ? Do we ever speak our secret thought-* ? Yes, sometimes; for when you, dear reader, (if you glance at this at all—i. e. to say if I have a read er,) declare from the bottom of jour heart that “Jenny Woodbine is a very tiresome scribbler, who has wriiten a loi g * ting of nonsense,” you All! express my senriments precisely, and alas 1 speak exactly as you think. To r ‘he Cnjsackr. Anabel. BY MARY E. BRYAK. Where the myrt’e and laurd 1 lossotns Breathe, frag aee on the air; And Tt* streamlet Ungras oogest In a val/ey s ill ad fair. Like a W ren’s brown nest in spring time, A cot ag-is hidden there. Thf-re, the b'lies bv the door w-ay Dioop ‘heir and wy bell- of sn w, And the stream et s ills lu> laughter Os its waters as they flow, And the wind boars ii h-st f-agrance Past the lowly cottage door. There, the sun-beams, and -he s aright On its rurd beauty shi ■©, And ad ve bui-ds tu the rnsti’ porch And sing- i-the wild ros*- vi< es. For a maiden a* pure as he flower*, Round its nest the branch®- tw m?*. ft ft ft * e And .-he is the on'y human fl w->r, J hat oloom* ’ne-tli ‘ho lau el’s green, This !one ! y w’th the dreamv Mnilo And the vtranje a st'acte 1 mien. Half like a chi and in its muring p ay, And half like a haughty qiu en. And no one aught of her kindred knows, Or whence she came iriav t ii ; And why she dwells here all alone^ I9 a m\9 ery a* well; Only her bird in its wicker cage, Cal's her his Anabel. When ihe ess'ern wall-* of die heavens, Are tinged with a tremb ing light, The peasant a. cs l er upon the hi 1, Like the morning coming bright, With her irv r be, ;n 1 radiant hrir, And her crown of lillies white. And, when mistily falls die moonlight O’er manv a granting grave, She wa ks with h slow and musing sfep, This ma’di fl so fair and brave Through the silent ci'y of the de.-rd, Where the gloomy pine trees wave. But when, thro’ the pear tree’s hoary bough The ftti'Umn wind sighs low, And mingles its Voice with the plaintive tone Os the distant streamlets flow. She s ts alone, while upon the roof, The ripe fiuit falls from the bough. Yet not alway by her lonely hearth Does the dreaming raa den b de. When disea-e and warn, rike spectres sib By the cotter’s fire side, With joy he b-holds her white t bed form O’er his darkened threshold glide. Her step falls soft as the summer dew, And her voice is low and cle*r, And she comes and g*>es where’er she lists With nor e* ’n a rnonght ot fear, When the twilight broods with dusky wing, Or the d*y star shiueth clear. For the maiden’s conscious purity Guards her like a sacred spell, And none, to her chaste and s-potlesa heart May a tale <<f passi n tell, And only her green and goHen bird, May whisper “ my Anabel.” ThOMA6VILI.£. Mrs. Jordan and thk Methodist PftEAoHKR. —Whilst the celebrated Mrs Jordan was pe f rnj ng, once, at Chester, her laundress w*s arre-ted for a debt of eight pounds sterling, which Mrs. Jor dan paid. Walking out in the afternoon < f the same day, she was compelled to take slreher from < shower of rain under a porch, where she was es pied by a liberated widow who fell upon her and blessed her—the children, dis rwsed at the position of their mother contributed to make *ip a very affecting scene. Mrs. Jordan co Id not oonceil the tear of feeling. 8 oopmg to kiss he children, she slipped some mone\ into the hands of the mother, filing. “There, ih'-re, it’s all ov r; go, gooJ woman; God you; don’t sij an ther word.” This inures ring episode wss w-tm se ed by another person, who had taken shelter near to the spot, and who now c-nte f >rw rd, ex foirn ng, with a deep sigh, 4 L dy pardon the fie**d< m fa * J rang<r! but that the world were all tike hee!” The pene r *ti> g eye • f Thaia’s votary son det eliiped the profession of her new acquain ance, whose countenance and attire declared him to be a Methodist Preacher. Ahor I ate i-ig to a brief sermon on the S'*ter!y i ve that had l eea ev nee ’, and of the ulfilDd c mmand to fe>-d the hungry and rdi**ve the distressed, Mr J. rdati in terrupted the discourse, by ohservi g, “Ah ! you are a good old s-ttl I dare say; but yu’ll not like me wh*n I tell you that I am—a p.ayer.”— The preacher, with a complacent coun enance, re inark*d. “The Lord bless the>- ! whoever thou art; and as to tliv cal it g, if tliy roul upofa deth the n-'t, the Lord forbid that Ish uld ” Thus rec n ii ed. an 1 the ram having abated, tlrey ieft the porch (eighth r, on their way to M>s. Jordan's dwelling. T'm offer of the prea Iter’s aim was aocep ‘d. and the old streets of Chest r beheld he aeriou- and -cinle of \V. sley walking srm-iL-arm wdh the fom.de Roftcut ot ooirtedy.