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TOE IlHliiTHl. a. turner, Eiipoß.} SSlcclilj) Jf oui iud : —JJelmttir to ptcratitre, unit <&mml Ifisaltag. {terms, $2,00 a year. VOLUME I. INDEPENDENT PRESS. “ " ithout Pear, Favor or Aflcctiou.” EATONTON, GA. SATURDAY MORNING, SEPT. 16,1854. <"onnnnnieations for .YYins papers. “We have been troubled recently with communications on various sub jects, some of which are in doggerel verse ami others arc anonymous,— \Ve lake occasion to notify our corres pondents that we publish a political newspaper and have no room lor their literary productions. Our poetical correspondents will tind the Southern Eclectic, published at Augusta, Ga., a most excellent literary paper, and Mr. Smyth, its editor, a much more com petent eritie than we are, and beg them to transmit their favors to him in fu ture. We never read anonymous communications, and those who send such to our office are notified that they are all thrown aside without attention.' We clip the above from the Times <{- Sr}: find, and convict brother Lomax of a palpable violation of the golden rule. Brother Smytbe is a peaceable man, but he shan’t, on that account, be imposed upon. We “take it up.” Stand up to him Jimmy ; we will back you. 'Taint right for Tennent to do you so. lie wants you to be “troubled tvith communications on various sub jects, some of which are in doggerel verse, and others anonymous.” ’Taint right, Tennent, and you know it. You ain’t doing as you would be done by; and’taint Christian, either. There now, if you don’t like it, help yourself. We will meet you, if you wish, and take a pop —made of ginger, or the gas of a champagne bottle ! The Southern School Jour nal. "W-? have received the August nurn- j ber, and from it learn that it will here- j after be published in Madison, Ga., by i Wm. I). Sullivan, editor of the Visitor, ‘ who contemplates making various ini- j pro vein cuts. It is to be edited by ; Mr. John G. Clarke, living in Madison, j and by various associate editors in dis- j fereut parts of the State, all teachers, j We wish the Journal abundant success, 1 and would try to prevail upon our people to support it. But it isn’t worth while, for we know they are not going to do it. Southern •He diced A' Surgi cal Journal. An excellent periodical. The Sep tember number has been on our table for some time. Our people would patronize it more, if it were published north of Mason & Dixon’s line. The Poor of Putnam County. Putnam county is a pretty consider able county, wc know ; and yet, even Putnam fails to do her duty in some things. There are not many paupers among us, it is true. Still there arc some, and their wants are imperious. Wei nit in a plea for their necessities. The poor fare badly even in prosper ous times, and in such times of scarci ty as these, there is great danger of their being neglected. In the first place we would remind the Grand Jury, as that honorable body soon convenes, that they should see to it that the poor children of Put nam county be provided with the means of education. In the next place we insist upon the Inferior Court’s taking some action to wards levying a tax, and appointing a -guardian, or guardians for the poor of the county. We all know that in our midst there are a few poor people who do not know certainly, when they eat one morsel, where they will get the next. For these, some certain provi sion should be made, either by the In ferior Court, or by a private organized association. We have various moral and charitable associations among us. Need we inform the people of Putnam county that charity should begin at home? But again. It is made the duty of the Inferior Court to examine into the condition of the orphans of the county, and if they cannot support themselves, to provide them with employment by binding them out, so that they may obtain the rudiments of an education and something to cat and wear. It is not in accordance with our laws, any more than with the spirit of the Chris tian religion to allow' tl|'e ' orphans of [ the county to go without employment, | or some means to gain an honest live lihood. and thus be subjected to the i commission of theft in order to appease their hunger. When a child’s parent dies, if there is no one to take the place of its father, the wisdom and humani ty of our laws devolve its guardianship i upon our courts, and they should an ! -swer to the responsibility, thus imposed upon them. There is necessity herein Putnam county for these remarks, which we know will be received in the spirit in which they are offered. We had rather not say anything about these things, if we could consistently with duty avoid it; because we do not wish our little foibles and short-com ings published to the world. And i this is why we keep silent with refer j cnee to a good many matters which | some of our friends think should be ! commented upon. But let us see to j the necessities of the poor, and hope I for better times ahead. __ _ , Partridges. The sportsman may promise himself i line fun, shooting, this Fall. If the dry i weather has cut oil’ the corn and cot i ton, it lias produced a fine crop of the ! partridge, the king bird of our South i ern game. A few days ago while ' riding in the country we saw too cov i eys of these birds, which seemed fully ! grown, and in full feather. This is re j markably forward. By imitating the • cry of the young partridges, we called I the old ones within a few feet of ns, \ and all around us, and the young ones followed. We had a fine opportunity ! to see them all, and our mouth fairly I watered, at sight of the dainty morsels, | though alive and in feathers. Fortu ; nately for the birds, we had no gun. j and so the}' went on their way re joicing. In one case we were on horse back, and in the other, we were stand ing on the ground, while only a fence | intervened between us and the birds, ; which were all around our feet —a | cane-break being on the side of the j fence where the partridges were.— ; Nothing can exceed the reckless dar i ing with which the old birds, male i and female, will rush to the cry of | their young ones.—Boys, don’t begin to j hunt the partridge too soon. Southern hiterary 'Hessen ger. The number for September is before us, well filled, and commends itself, as it always does, to the patronage of Southern Readers. Let every South ern man who has this year subscribed for Harper and Putnam, make up his mind to discontinue these magazines, which have recently opened their bat teries against his section, and patronize a much more worthy magazine in the above journal. We consider it the most important part of our duty as a Southern Editor, to point out to our readers, so far as we can, the journals which are worthy, and which are un worthy of their support, as indicated by their bearing upon the slavery is sue. Paul Pry. Os all contemptible characters the gentleman who heads this article is the most contemptible. lie is forever lot ting his own business alone, and at tending to yours. If you go to post up your ledger, lie is at your shoulder, overlooking things that do hot. concern him : If you go to write an editorial, he is at your elbow to make a sugges tion : If you are writing a letter, lie reads it as you pen it: And verily you can’t do any the least thing unless Paul Pry has his nose or his lingers in it. We have heard a good anecdote of one of our most esteemed citizens, who was writing a letter, while Mr. Pry stood at his back and read, as he wrote. Os course the gentleman who was writing the letter grew tired o this, and. finally wrote, “I would say something more, but there is a damned fool standing at my back reading what I write.” ‘‘Not so, not so,” said Paul— thereby proving in the denial the very fact charged against him. Well, we hate Paul Pry, and so does every other decent man; for Paul is no gen tlemau. From the very nature of his character he cannot be. The ftlails. The Baton Rouge Daily Advocate complains heavily of the mails, and well ft may/ For s'ucTt irregularities in the mails were never known before. Every once in.a \yliilo..wegetonohun EATONTON, GA., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1854. dred and titty Advocates, more or less— (mind, we say more or less) —all at one time, and all the balance of the times we get none. The mails are bad ly managed. The tJfails •/gain. YV e were told by an Atlanta subscri ber the other day that our paper fre quently did not reach him until the Thursday or Friday after publication. This is no fault of ours, as our paper is regularly put in the office every Sat urday in time for the mails. Thank ft. Our thanks are tendered Mrs. Car ter for the very acceptable present she sent us in the form of peaches in their natural state, and in the prepared state of peach chips. The latter were de licious. And our obligations were still farther called forth by the yams, which were sent us, the largest we have seen. Our baby ate these and pro nounced them an excellent article. — Seeing these potatoes reminded us to examine our own patch. So we went and pulled up a bunch of grass where we had planted our potatoes, but not a potato did we find “in do place whar de taters ought to grow.” Oh ! pota toes, potatoes, how often have we sought to gather you from amid big bunches of grass and ye would not! Information Wanted. We see it stated in one of our ex changes that Horace Greeley denies that he paid six dollars for a nest of Shanghi eggs and that they hatched snapping turtles. Will the Herald, or some other one of pur New York co temporaries, give us full information with reference to this important matter? We would be pleased also to know of the Washington Union whether the president and cabinet are bestowing that attention upon the subject which its importance demands. Horace Greeley is now sitting upon another nest of eggs in whose hatching we take some interest. It is those resolutions which were put under him at the Sara toga Convention. We suppose the product of this incubation will be gos lings, as the producer of the eggs and the incubator, being one and the same, is a goose. We once heard of the following question’s being discussed in a debat ing society : “Suppose one hen lays an egg, and another hatches it, which lien is the motherof the chicken ?” It might be asked also, “Suppose Shang hai eggs are hatched by a snapping tur tle, would the young be Shanghais or snapping turtles?” If the latter, then the matter of the way in which Gree ley’s Shanghai eggs turned out snap ping turtles might be explained : For Horace being a sort of a snapping tur tle himself, if lie performed the duties of incubator, might really have hatched snapping turtles out of Shanghai eggs. We don’t know ourself, and therefore don’t say. We know that we can say to Horace or to Horatio, which is the same thing, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth Hora tio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” We hope the New York Press will speak out upon this subject, that it will be discussed by the next debating society, that the President and cabinet will pay it due attention, that early in the next Congress a committee will be appointed to investigate it, and that their report will be deposited among the archives of the Smithsonian Insti tute. il The If now Nothing.” Wc see from our exchanges that Messrs. “Argus k Briareus” propose to publish in Sandersville, Ga., a pe riodical to be entitled as above. We perceive, also, that in making out their prospectus the}' have copied ours, al most verbatim et literatim, making on ly a few changes to adapt our prospec tus to their paper. Our prospectus says of the Press, “As its name indi cates, it is entirely independent, being governed alone by such rules as decen cy and good morals impose upon every press. * * * * It will publish all articles whether they agree with its own views, or not, provided they are brief, well written, and free from per sonality.” Messrs. Argus k Briareus say of, the Know Nothing, “As its name indicates, it will be devoted en tirely to the order and cause of Know Nothingism, and it will bo governed alone by such rules as decency and good morals impose upon every Press. As we have said above, its principles will be devoted chiefly to Know Notli ingisrn, but it will publish all articles, whether they agree, with its own views or not, provided they are brief, well w ritten, and free from all personali ties.” Messrs. Argus A Briareus did not send us, a copy of - their prospectus, which we would have been glad to receive in order to accept the compli ment conveyed in the plagiarism :—to which, by the way, we don’t object, but only think it would have appeared better in them to have said, “by your leave.” We think we can recommend Messrs. A. &B. for the task they have undertaken, inasmuch as they already give very good proof that they know nothing. ha Grange Reporter . The above paper, after-staying away from our sanctum for some time, has again paid us a visit. Since wc saw it last, it has changed editors, and is now conducted by E. Y. Hill, jr., who has infused into its columns much of the spirit of Young America. We also perceive a Southern tinge running through its productions, which is very grateful. We hope for brother Hill abundant success, and much prosperity in his efforts for the South. May her enemies long find him a hard Ilill to get over. FOR THE INDEPENDENT PRESS. SALLIE LABORDE. nr DAVID L. ROATII. Let the Poet go mad for tho nmiden of France, "Whose smile drives the cloud from the forehead of Care; Lot him brandish his pen in tho fields of romance, Until there is nought to him lovelier there : lie may prate till he’s gray of tho charms that havo been Unveil’d to his vision from Nature’s gray hoard— In bis raptuous drearnings bo never has seen, A fairer than thou art, sweet Sallie Laborde! The joy in the glance of the dark eye of Spain, "Would rouse unto hope from the depths of despair, Tho tresses that wave in the dance on tho plain, Full many a maiden is sighing to wear— But dearer than all that tho "Wanderer sees, As the Past is disclosed with its offerings stored— Like music low breath’d on tho soil Summer breeze, Is tho thought of tho gcntlo girl, Sallio Laborde i Ye men of tho Pastl who have rovoll’d in love Till your eyes have been quench’d in tho darkness of night— " Who silently shed from your radiant store Os learning tho gleams set tho World all alight,— Had ye seen but tho form of the charmer I siug, As over your black letter volumes you pored, Not now to your fame would Humanity cling, For Earth ne’er had brighter than Sallio Labordcj Dr. Egan, a physician of Chicago, and also an enthusiastic land specula tor, perseribed some pills for a patient, with directions to take a quarter down, and the balance in one, two and three years.’ Why Jan young man hugging his sweetheart like an epicure who per mits his wine to leak away? . Because lie is ivaisting what he loves. The author of this was sent to the peniten tiary. Trees.—Plant tffnsey around the roots of peach trees. Tlie peach worm will not trouble them .after wards, foetri). FOR THE INDEPENDENT TRESS. (No 14.) To a Rivulet. Flow gently on, sweet, limpid stream, And seek thy parent sea, Still sporting with the solar beam That scatters gems o’er thee. Cau’st thou retain thy purity, As thou shalt onward roam, Or will thy wavelets tainted be, Ere thou shalt reach thy home? Through bogs thou’lt find thy winding way, Pure, pearly stream be sure— Thy waters mingle with the clay. And be at last impure. How like the tide of human life Is thine, thou gentle stream, Before wo mingle in the strife Os manhood’s feverish dream! Pure as thy limpid waters are, Are childhood’s guileless hours, And on the stream of life afar But float the sweetest flowers. But by and by its waters dr ink Corruption at its source, And in its billows sorrows sink, Where’er it winds its course. But as thy waters shall distil, And leave their clay behind So up in heaven’s high places will Be pure immortal mind. Eatonton, Spring of ’-IS. l. l. % Sal t. FOR THE INDEPENDENT PRESS. BENT WOLD: A TALE OF FLORIDA AND GEORGIA. BY T— ANARUS( Continued .) CHAPTER VI. It must not be supposed that Horace Bentley ever obtained the entire control of his passions. His, by nature were strong and deep; and it required a strong and continued exercise of the will to keep them within bounds.— Sometimes they burst asunder the bonds with which he bound them, and terrible was the display which ensued. It falls not to the ,lot of mortals ever to attain to perfection. The man in whose breast the tires of stroug passions glow, who has subjected them so entirely to his will that no combination of cir cumstances can excite him to the com mission of a rash act, has yet to come into existence. Among Horace Bentley’s peculiari ties, was an extraordinary fondness for orange trees. With him, the vision, or the thought of an orange grove, always awakened in his mind associa tions of love, beauty, poesy. He of ten said he could never find words adequate to express the intense delight with which he used to wander through the orange groves of Spain, of Cuba, and of our Florida. A pleasant sea breeze, too, always excited the same peculiar emotions of delight in his mind as the orange groves; and by some means the two were always asso ciated together in his mind: he could never think of one without thinking of the other. He resolved to gratify his taste in this regard by seeking out some spot under the shadow of the stars and and stripes, where he could build him a house and enjoy his two great lux uries. With this view he set out to travel through Florida. Fortune fa vored him to a remarable degree, for while seeking a site whereon to fix his residence, he stopped at the house of an old friend of his father’s, Avhere he met with Miss Arlington. I need not describe her. She was a lady calcula ted to take b} 7 ' storm, the heart of such a man as Horace Bentley. Need I say more? Horace who, a short time before, had, in his presumption, thought that ho could bind or loose his affec tions as he listed, now found that he had, all along, been laboring under a great mistake. He fell deeply and ir retrievably in love. Miss Arlington had a cousin—Ben Hester —a fierce, passionate fellow who had persecuted her with his attentions and offers of his hand, ever since her fifteenth year. His well known reck lessness and vindictiveness had at length driven off nearly all the host of suitors, by whom she was at first surrounded. When Horace became aware of this fact, it only acted as a spur upon him, and he immediately set out to woo the lady. She returned his love; and when he discovered this, lie was ready to face a legion of devils, in defence of his claims. The report that Horace Bentley and Miss Arlington were engaged, and that the nuptials were soon to be cel ebrated, quickly reached the ears of Ben Hester, and his rage and mortifi cation knew no bounds. It is impossible to describe the effect which such disap pointment produced upon one who like him had rather nourished and encour aged his passions than endeavored to curb them. His few associates, -well knowing what would follow if he en countered his rival, endeavored to pre vent an interview. It was all in vain; for he sought Horace and grossly in sulted him, in public. Os course Hor ace knocked him down; when he pick ed himself up and drew a pistol. One was as promptly produced by his ad versary, who had been prepared for what was to happen. Fortunately, some of the spectators struck Hester’s pistol from his hand, and Horace’s chivalry would not allow him to fire on an unarmed foe. Hester then challenged his adversa ry to fight him on the ..spot. The lat ter accepted the challenge and, offered him the choice of weapons. Hester chose rifles, thinking*that perhaps the other was unacquainted with the. weap; on. But the sequel proved that he reckoned entirely without his host— he being carried from the field with a bullet in his knee, and his foe walking off untquched. So Horace carried off the prize; and what was bet 1 mean what was very well —he received with her, as a mar riage portion, the estate on which he built his house. It was already par tially improved and Nature had done all that he could ask, so that re-build ing the house was by far the largest part of the work lie had to perform. CHAPTER VII. A few days after Mr. Bentley and Frank returned from Blue Spring Place, Frank rode to St. A ,to at tend to some business for his father; and Harry was allowed a holiday for the purpose of going with him. That evening Helen was not disposed to lose her accustomed gallop, nor was she disposed to take it alone. She and her father and mother were in that same colonnade where we first made their acquaintance. Ah! reader, if you could only realize all the asso ciations connected with that noble col onnade, that waving and whispering shrubbery and that soft, wooing sea breeze ! And the peerless Helen!— Again she stood within reach of her favorite orange tree. “And again,” says the reader, “you are going to in dulge in one of your senseless rapliso dies.” But you are mistaken dear reader. Instead of speaking myself, I will let you hear the musical tones of the bright and proud beauty whose full rosy lips are just parting, as she turns toward her companions; the pa trician-looking lady and gentleman who are calmly enjoying the fresh, per fume-laden breeze. “Mother, does not this pure delicious atmosphere tempt you to indulge in one more gallop on your favorite steed? Metliinks that one who has ever experienced the high, exhilara tig influence of the swift motion of “a steed that knows it’s rider,” would find it hard to resist the wooings of an even ing like this.” “You are right Helen,” was the re ply. “It is hard to resist the tempta tion ; and if I were young as you are, it would be impossible. No doubt all romantic young ladies think exactly like you do; but recollect you are only seventeen, while I am barely able to say, with a clear conscience I am under forty.” “Ah mother I know you are just as romantic as I am myself. You can not but feci your blood quicken at sight of the steed whom you yourself named Mazcppa. I have ordered him and father’s favorite, as well as my own noble Grey. And here they come too.” And as she spoke the three fine blooded animals were brought round to the door. Mrs. Bentley’s eye did brighten as she beheld the fiery but docile bay, who had so often borne her along the sandy beach or through the dark wood. “And now mother,” said Helen, “don your beaver and let us be off. As to father, I do not ask him, for of course, if you ride, his well-tried Jealty will not allow him to remain at home.” “I fear I am growing toq lazy Hel en,” answered Mrs. Bentley, again leaning back on her soft seat—-“so lazy that I feel little inclination to ride this evening.” “But mother your health will suffer if you break off entirely from the bracing exercise to which you have accustomed yourself. You,arc pale, even now.” “You are excessively cunning, Miss Helen,” said Mr. Bentley, leisurely puffing out a thin fragrant cloud.— “You take advantage of the parian fairness of } T our mother’s complexion to say she is pale, and to urge it as a reason that she must ride with you. Why she is in blooming health, and can beat you at a horn-pipe now.” “Well admit that she is—admit that she can,” was the ready reply. “But what, as much as anything else, lias served to bring, about this state of health, but riding on horse-back? And how long will it last, if she neglects the means which brought it tj,bout ?” ( “You would make an excellent cas uist;” said Mr. Bentley, “you can. change your position so readily.” “Still,” said Helen, “you mu Aad mit that my last; argument is .unan swerable.” NUMBER 22. “Well perhaps so,” said her father. “But I question } r our motive in making use of it.” “now?” “Why you pretend to be solicitous concerning your mother’s health, when the truth of the matter is, you only wish to procure a cavalier for your self.” “Why you don’t call mother a cav alier do you?” was the mischievous reply. “No you little witch; but you have already admitted that you know if your mother rides, I am bound to at tend her.” “Well, father,” said Helen laughing. “I am perfectly willing you should have your jest, since I sec by your eye that you will go.” “But why not depend on the chance of meeting Dick Walton, or Tom But ler, or some other youthful cavalier, instead of depending on an old man like .myself?” “Because,” answered Helen—“But nevermind the cause. Mother we will be waiting for you.” “Only a few moments though,” said Mrs. Bentley rising suddenly and going within. She soon returned in riding habit and hat, with whip in hand. “Upon my honor,” said Mr. Bent ley rising as his fine-looking wife came out in a costume she had laid aside for some time, and making a profound bow. “Upon my honor, I shall have to fall in love again. I feel as if I could risk another rifle shot, even now, for the sake of my beauteous bride.” “Very likely you do,” said Mrs. Bentley. “I hope though you arc not going to ride horse-back in slippers?” j “Most assuredly not,” was the an-., swer, as Mr. Bentley hastened .y/iihui" to draw on his boots. On his return, the party mounted and passed round to the gate leading out toward the public road. “Suppose we go to meet Frank and Harry,” said Mrs. Bentley. “Agreed,” was the answear, and they took the road leading to St. A—. I can add nothing to what lias been already written and spoken in praise of riding on horseback : if I could, here perhaps would be the place to say it- This much I .can say though, oh ye plodding, sober sided denizens of towns and cities! Ye who are afraid to mount a horse’s back! —who view the feat in the same light as that of mount ing the back of an Elephant, or thrusting one’s head into the jaws* of a Lion! All ye who have never learn ed to feel perfectly at ease on liorscjll back! Ye will never know the ex treme of exhilaration—the very acme of proud extacy, till you get to that point when you can truly take!“a fearless leap on a fiery steep.” A This extacy —this exhilaration, was felt in its full force by our party front Bentwold as they struck a fleet gallop^ on the St. A road. Mr. Bentley rode between a wife of whom he wasjc proud, and a daughter of whom *he was, perhaps, still more proud, and this fact added to the glow of happi ness naturally induced by the indul gence of his favorite amusement and exercise. They dashed on rapidly, un til a sudden turn in the road brought them in sight of Frank and Harry, re turning from St. A— —. They were accompanied by a stranger, which as soon as Helen and Mrs. Bentley per ceived, they reigned their horses up to a more decorous pace, and thus the two parties appitoaehed each other. The stranger who accompanied the two young Bentleys, was a young man, apparently of twenty two or three years of age. His careless but ex ceedingly gracef'iTsMt showed him to be an accomplished horseman. Prac tice in a riding school could never the perfect case and conT%|tmp dis played by him, and by his companions also. Such a seat could tained by constant practice jrdjfrt mere infancy. His figure was wellfpropor%| tioned, both for muscular strength and handsome appearance. of this however, a. slight his broad shoulders, an occasional hectic spot on his pale cheek, and a sjjgdit cough, created, in those who upon him, painful feelings ofhkympa thy and condolence. Ilis jpatures were handsome and at the s&ne time, exceedingly intellectual in apr^jmnee* 1 Deep black hair and ey es long