The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1836-1851, February 22, 1850, Image 1
4
VOLUME 11. " CMID^^QUTH^CARQLTNA, FEBRUARY22, 1850. NUMBER 15.:
poetical department.
From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier.
THE FIRST BRIDAL.
EV MHS. L. F. MORGAN*.
" * 1 -1 ?1-2?1. T r*/\/l Karl lol'An tVnm mnrt
" A nil [lie riu, wiui'ii mr mhu uuu iiiftvn
made lie a woman,and brought her uiiio the man."
The temple was tlie new-made earth,
Un weeping skies arch'd o'er it,
For sin as yet had not had birth,
Why should the Heaven's deplore it ?
No curious crowd wasgather'd there,
To criticize or wonder,
When softly breathed, that primal air,
.i l.i. li nnnn mav stindt*r.
Oh! ne'er was marriage rite so bless'd?
The minister and witness
Was God himself, who thus impress'd
The seal upon its fitness.
Go forth in bliss without alloy,
Young bride and bridegroom favor'd;
With all the soul can dream of joy,
Your cup of life is flavor d.
With gratitude both pure and deep,
Go, make tlac world your altar,
Ye liave but one command to keep?
Can your obedience falter?
With hearts and minds attuned to love,
And God in all things viewing,
The flowery paths of Eden rove,
Your graceful tasks pursuing.
The vistas winch before you ope,
With cloudless light are streaming,
Undoubting faith, untreinbling hope,
Around your steps are beaming.
Let fall the curtain. Shut the scene?
On life's green threshhold leave thein,
Whate'er of woe may supervene,
There's nothing rwic to grieve them.
Baltimore, 1847.
THE FATHERIJ2SS.
Speak softly to the fatherless!
And check the harsh reply
That sends the criinfbti to the cheek,
The tear drop to the eye.
They have the weight of loneliness
In this rude wosld to bear,
Then gently raise the fallen bud,
The drooping flow'ret spare.
Speak kindly to the fatherless!
The lowliest of their baud,
God keepeth, as the waters,
In the hollow of his hand.
'Tim snd to j;ee life's evening sun,
Go down in sorrow's shroud,
But sadder still "when morning's dawn
Is darkened by the cloud.
Look mildly on the fatherless!
Ye may have power to wile
Tlieir hearts irom saaaen a mcuijij
By the magic of a smile.
Deal gently with these little ones,
Be pitiful, and He,
The friend and father of us all,
Shall gently deal willi thee.
?l)c ?lio.
ONLY TRY.
The following lias been translated from a
French paper. They used to say that every
soldier carried in his cartridge box a marshal's
baton. Might not one say, in these days, that
evorv chorister carries in his wind-pipe a for
tune ? Here is one example at least.
About thirty years ago, in a little city of Italy,
at Bergame, by a singular contrast, the company
at the Opera House was quite indifferent, while
the choristers were excellent. It could scarcely
luive lieen otherwise, since the greater part ot
the choristers have since become distinguished
composers. Donizetti, Cruvelli, Leodoro, Blanche,
Mari, and Dolci, commenced by singing
in the choruses at Bergame. There were, among
others, at that epoch, a young man, venf poor,
very modest, and greatly beloved by his commiles.
In Italv. the orchestra and the choris
tors arc worse paid than in France, if possible.
You enter a hoot-maker's shop, the master is
the first violin. The apprentices relax themselves
after a day's work, by playing the clarionet,
the hautboy, or the timbrels, in the evening
at the theatre. One young man, in order
to assist liis old mother, united the functions of
chorister to the more lucrative employment of
journeyman tailor.
Oue day, when he had taken to Nozari's house
a pair of pantaloons, the illustrious singer, after
lookiny at him earnestly, said to him, very kind
o b
3 ? ,
" It appears to ine, my good fellow, that I
have seen you somewhere.
" Quite likely, sir; you may have seen ine at
the theatre, where I take a part in the choruses."
((Have you a good voice V*
f Not remarkably, sir; I can, with great difficulty,
i. aeh sol."
"Let me sec," said Nozari. going to the piano
; " begin the gamut."
Our chorister obeyed, but v' u ho reached
- - " i . 1 . .1.
sol he stopped short, out 01 u:r..?
" Sound la?come, try."
"Sir, I cannot."
" Sound la, you fool."
" La, la, la."
" Sound si."
" My dear sir, I cannot."
"Sound si, I tell you, or by my soul I'll"?
" Don't get angry, sir; I'lltrv?/?r, si, la, si,
do
" I told you so," said Nozari, with a voice ol
triumph ; " and now, inv good lellow, I will say
only one word to you. If you will only study
i and practice, vou will become the first tenor in
Italy."
Nozari was right. The poor chorister who,
to gain his bread, had to mend breeches, possesses
now a fortune of two millions, and is
called Rubini.
What a Woman Sitour.n nn At.fiiabkti>
cally.?A woman should be amiable, benevo
I lent, cnancame, domestic, economical, torgiving,
generous, honest, indnstrhras, judicious,
kind, loving, modest, neat, obedient, pleasant,
quiet, rcilecting, sober, tender, urbane, virtuous,
wise, 'xemplary, yielding and zealous.
What a teaman should not he. ? She should
not be artful, bold, cross, deceitful, envious,
fretful, grovelling, hollow-hearted, idle, jadish,
knavish, lazy, morose, nonsensical, officious,
! petulant, quarrelsome, ranting, snappish, talha'
tive, unreasonable, vain, wrangling, 'xtravagant
or yawning.?Port. Bulletin.
It may be said generally of husbands, as the
woman Said of hers who had abused her, to an
old maid who reproached her for being such a
fool as to marry him?" to be sure lie is not so
good a husband as he should be, but lie's a
wonderful sight better than none."
Na!'ou:on\s Tomu. According to a lute development,
the afiair of Napoleon's tomb at
Paris has been the subject of very great finaneieal
mystification. The original estimate of
the cost was 500,000 francs; but now it appears
if is expected that it v. ill amount in all to nearly
3,000,000.
An invalid sent for a physician, the late Dr.
Wheelman, and after detaining him some 'time,
with a description of his pains, aches, Arc. he
thus summed up: "Now Doctor, you have humbugged
me long enough with your good-for-nothing
pills and worthless syrups, they don't touch
the real difficulty, I wish you would strike the
cause of my ailment, if it is in your power to
roach it." "It shall be done," said the Doctor,
at the same time lifting the cane and demolishing
a decanter of n in which stood upon the sidei
i
uuuiu .
?
Dr. Johnson, being once in company with
some scandal mongers, one of tliem having accused
an absent friend of resorting to rouge, he
observed : "it is perhaps, after all, much better
for a lady to redden her own cheeks, than to
blacken other people's characters."
3, 3clcctcb STalv
DISTRUST,
on thr. victim op voluntary widowhood.
List and I will toll you a story of real life as
it occurred in our very midst. The heroine of
my story lived many years in Mobile, and was
a native, I think, of this place; at all events, her
lot in life must early have been cast among us.
Many in this Fair Room have taken her by the
band ; for, at every hearthstone she was a welinwct
rpndored so liv her brilliant man
ners, mid engaging, lovely disposition. Everybody
loved Dora llammersley, for she loved everybody.
She had been a widow nine years
when 1 first made her acquaintance, and a more
lovely woman in every point of view it has never
boon my lot to meet with. I often wondered
at her perversity in remaining single, when I
kiiew, with the world, that she had it so largely
in her power not only to become an interesting
wife, hut a most useful member of society. She
always parried my persuasions, by saying that
I sue ureaut'U UUHIIIIIUU ui a Mcp-iuiuur inuij
her only chilJ, a sweet little girl of sonic ten
summers. I noticed at the time, despite her efforts
to conceal it, that the poor woman was im
measurably wretched. She was not in love, for
she was a woman of too finely a balanced mind
ever to sit down and moj>o on an unrequit"d passion.
Her beautiful blameless life had been
passed among us, with the exception of the five
' ? II 1. ? I I 11
years oi ner marneu me, which nau uvea spum.
elsewhere. It was during a brief visit she paid
Mobile ia 18? while at her father's house, she
heard of her husband's death, i shall never forget
the shock it occasioned me, more for Dora's
sake, who 1 knew to he so ardently attached to
him. Time heals every wound, and I knew, in
the common course of tilings, she must long
since have ceased to grieve for her husband's
death. The announcement, at last, that she
was about to leave Mobile forever and settle in
the west, tilled the large circle of her friends
? - i I I . . ? ; i ll'l ... I
Willi nil' IUOSI (UIIKMIUUCU JiSlOlllMllllClU. >? II.'U .
leave the dear friends, where she had been so
petted, so caressed, for a home in a strange land
?far from the scene of her childhood! Well
might we all wonder. I determined, with my
husband's permission, to ask an explanation of
j this strange resolve. She was to perform her
i l.ac# I.il<rrini-Iiri> til ?lw> <rr;ivi?? ril'Smi* ii'iri>nt< wild
j l'"p 'p" ? ' " l""~ ' ?_
j were interred in tlie old grave-yard, head of
: Church street. Thither we went together, and
after sauntering through the old arenas?anon
stopping to listen to the wind, as it swept in
Julian strains through the overhanging gloomy
pines?we reached at last an old broken wall,
and bidding her sit down beside ine, I took both
her hands in mine and implored her, by my past
friendship and mv present devotion to her in
! terests, to frainJy tell nie the cause of her unI
happiness.
" I nn so glad you have touched upon this
subject," said she, hesitatingly, " for oh, I know
I that I would he so much happier if some one
j else beside myself knew the terrible secret of my
| past life. Yes," she said, " I will tell you all
| without reservation ; but we must enter into
; solemn compact first."
" Anything in reason, Dora, and which it is
in toy power to perform, I will most willingly
! do."
" Will you promise not to hate me ?" she convulsively
sobbed. " Will you promise, by tlie
sacred dust of my parents, that }"ou will still
love me as you have hitherto done V'
"I will still continue to love you, Dora, though
I you had committed murder. There now, will
I ft,of nccitponnn cficfr vm, >"
She kissed me affectionately and began the
recital of her griefs. " Mind, you promise not
to interrupt me," she said. "You will remember,"
she continued, " that I was married early
in life to one whom I more than idolized, and
went to Louisiana to live. It was during the
last months of the five years that I sojourned in
that state, that the seeds of my after unhappiness
were sown. I was young, Emily, and was
too prone to put faith in all I saw and hoard. It
has only hoen through the two last years of my
close intimacy with you, that I have learned
what a good-wife should be. Oh, Emily, Emily,
the precious pearls that 1 have east from me,
and trampled in the dust, because I knew not
their value! Will you believe it, my friend, that,
1113' husband is now alive and the father of a |
lnrint fttndlv it, nno nl' fliu Wocf fmli'i Tshlllfltt.
It was my own fault," she continued as I was j
about to interrupt her. " I listened to evil coun- j
sel, Emily, and learned to distrust my husband.
\es, 1 learned to distrust, and at last to hate (or
at least thought I did) that husband who had always
lavished upon me every kindness. I never
quarrelled with him. No ? I was too innately
proud for that; but I allowed myself to brood
upon my silent, growing hate, and, oh, there is j
no feeling on this earth that so high warps the i
brain to madness ::s the hate born of jealousy.
v,.? \,
* uu nuuu my IKUI1V, v/pcn xjmiijt*
So i went to him, and widi my month in t!ie
dust, asked lor a separation. Oh, never did the ,
poor doom-sacked victim of the liosphorus beg '
for life, as I for the blessed privilege?of going
from ills presence forever with our only child.
He tried to reason with me,but 1 was mad, Emily,
and have been mad since. 1 asked for notliiior
lnif mv child, ami nlcadcd u'itlian earnest.
ncss which he saw it was useless to resist. So, i
Emil v, I u ill pass on the announcement of inv !
widowhood?when 1 went forth to the world a j
hypocrite in widow's weeds. My husband wrote I
to ine three times during the first year of our i
separation, imploring me by every precious tie |
to permit him even bv stealth to look once more I
upon the face of his child. To every entreaty
I returned a cold, stern, hard answer, and for
all this 1 have dearly bitten the dust since. The [
years sped on which return no more, and mv
child began to expand into a loveliness which
was almost superhuman. Strange as it may
appear to you, I again learned to love my bus
uanu uiruugii ins child, \> lien she spoke to me
ititVllS h<-*P fntlicr^s v pvorj' A*r,ic
his; and I so loved my child that I again loved
my lutshand t!irough her. Strange inconsisteney
you may call this, but it is nevertheless true.
1 knew that he was alive, for regularly every
year I have received a small provision for our
maintenance through unknown hands. This,
with the little patrimony received from my father,
enabled me to live far above want?aetn..11..
..<r....Cxi,,, MM.-, lriYiivi,.^ of life.
| You little know how I have yearned to look !
once more upon my husband's face. Oh Emi- j
ly! I thought if I could hut see him, all
I he made up. 1 was prepared to luunhle myself
' in tlievery dust, that 1 might he taken hack to
his heart once more. 1 knew not where to direct
even a letter to him, and like a poor condemued
criminal I dared not make open inquiry;
for in the eyes of the world 1 was a widow |
and my poor child an orphan. So well have |
I played my part in hypocrisy, that no one nas
ever dreamed of my husband's existence.
"1 believe that 1 knew, and loved you, ton,
for nearly four years?and that brings nie to
nearly a widowhood of thirteen years. I had
almost outlived the hope of ever again seeing
my husband, when about three weeks since I
received a small note from him, announcing that
he was in Mobile, and most anxious to see the
child of his youth?that he would call on.me
the evening of that day, as an old friend of the
family, promising under any circumstances not
to reveal inmseti to .ana. un: ine imurs ui
that ilny were so 'leaden paced!' At last lie
came with seven o'clock. 1 parted with my
husband,a tall slight ligmv, with light blue eyes,
ainWark curling hair?and 1 shook hands with
him alter a lapse of thirteen years, a perfect Indian
in complexion, an enlarged robust figure,
eyes somewhat darker, and his hair, instead of
grey, was as black as night,lying in thick masses
of large manly crispy curls! Never would
I have recognised the husband of my youth in
I the line looking middle-aged man 1 presented to
my daughter as the friend of her father. 1 had
prepared her to receive him nficrtionately, ami
the warm welcome slit* extended, assuring him
that any one who hail known her father should
have the wannest corner of her heart, was beyond
conception painful to both of us. They
hud a long and interesting conversation, ile
inquired about her studies, and seemed pleased
with the progress she had made, making lie*
promise (with my permission) to correspond
with him under the assumed name of Dunslow.
U'liiln in inn with his child. I had writ
tea a few linos, staling my earnest roeantation
of inv former errors, and earnestly asking for a
reconciliation. He was terribly agitated during
the whole interview, and when I gave him my
note to read, the strong man shook like an ague
lit.
" tin ci'-mticil it several limes?walked the
Hour in terrible agitation?looked at me ouee
with the concentrated agony of a life of human
suffering?and approaching Ada gave her a minature
of liimsolf, which he said sin- must keep
for iter father's sake as well as his own?kissed
i her several times, and bidding her farewell, asked
me to take a turn with him on the balcony,
i " l)ora,M he said, as he nervously closed the
door, " years ago you passed the liat of our sep
.nation. You know how earnestly and hope
lessly I sued for terms?you turned a deaf ear
and a hard heart to all my solicitations. You
were the victim, I too well know, Dora, of a
wicked conspiracy. Had you but listened to
the counsel contained in the last letter I wrote
I you, twelve years ago, all would have been
j well; as it is, you sowed the seeds.of your own
: unhappiness, by distrusting your husband, and,
, at best, have reaped but Dead Sea fruit I
i grieve for you?I grieve more for my daughter,
; who must go forth to the world without a father's
protecting arm, After your rejection t>f all
overtures oil my part, I went to the West Indies,
obtained a divorce from yourself, and married a
Spanish woman, who could not speak one word
; of English, liy my lust marriage I have three
! cluldren, nil daughters. You will often hear
from me through my child, God bless you, madam?
And, without even one kiss, Emily, my
husband vanished from my sight. One oflec;
tionate, kind caress, would have been so little to
| liiin, and such a precious remembrance to me!
May be, this is what men call retribution."
Siliivi'li? t(*/i iiireiiml aiiv* tiro i* linmnurir/la nn/1
I censed to wonder at those eccentricities in my
friend, which formed the comments of so many.
Dora Hammersley left Mobile some years since,
and settled in the west. Her daughter, as every
body tells me, is worthy of her mother?has
married well, and moves with her mother among
the first women in the nation.
t.7-rt< i ? us if*/y*7iroTirr*ii Tiraag?bmbb?BBPB
ittisrcllnnequs Department.
From the New Orleans Crescent.
CALIFORNIA NEWS.
We are greatly indebted to an esteemed
friend who came passenger by the Falcon, for
the interesting details below:
The steamship Oregon left San Francisco,
T.... 1 a. . <> I : 1 J I
Jim. i, ai / a.- in., iiiivmy uii uuiiiu vuv iiuuuicu
cabin and about two hundred steerage passengers,
with' n freight list of gold dust amounting
to over 91 ,'200,000. The entire amount of gold
(hist brought by passengers and freight list is
estimated at about $3,000,000. Business at
San Francisco is rather dull on account of the
rains, and merchants preferred investing in land
and real estate. Gold dust, the day previous to
the Oregon's leaving, was in demand at 816 to
the ounce for shipment, and must continue to
command that price until after the rainy season.
I'refer you to the papers for local news, in
which' will be seen an account of the destruction
by fire of a large amount of property. At the
time of my leaving, some three or four of the
ruins were nearly rebuilt, and were under contract
to be ready to move into by the 6th. Of
these I may mention the Dennison House and
El Dorado"
\\ c ,Vr- -,&(K
ta I5:ixl?ar/f, making her way up finely to dan
Francisco. This boat has had a hard time of
it, having got out of coal, and has been lying at
Acapulco lbr some two months.
The Hay of San Francisco is being enlivened
by steamboats. The propeller Mckim, formerly
of New Orleans, has been profitably employed
as a regular packet between San Francisco and
Sacramento city. The steamer Senator is also
in the same trade, A new boat of Aspinwall's
T,> "? 1 ?
lino, cuucu 1^1 uimiim, is uv<un luiujiimL. .v..
the same trade. On the Sail Joaquin a sternwheel
boat called (.'apt Sutter h^s been running
between San Francisco ami Stockton.
There wn.t an iron propeller beat, called the
Fire Fly, being put together to run to I'ueblo
San Jose.
Col. Jack Hays Indian Agent, was at San
nimrn ulirMi the Ofeirnn li-lt.
""t? "'TV.
C.vi't. 'louts.?Nothing had been heard in
San Francisco, prior to the sailing of the Oregon,
of ihe death of Tohin,a?d it is not believed.
Naval.?The lT. S. Mag shin, Savannali,
Com. Jones, has l?een Icing at Sancelita, (six
miles below Sail Francisco,) intending to go up
the river*to Henitia, some thirty miles, bnt can
not go, it is said, lor want of a crow to work hor.
The Falmouth was lying near her, and was to
leave in a few days for Mnxatlnn. The Revenue
brig Lawrence, Capt. khmer, is lying in the
bay opposite the town, and had rendered much
efficient sen-ice to the shipping in the many difficulties
occurring there with seamen. The St.
.Mary's is also lying in t!rr hay.
They have some three or four steamboats on
#i . 1 inooiir Icon S't # I*;f?11??ll.
nil' v | ? 71" J .MI .ai.iMllW I ill I I III It I'll I ?.v ....... ..
to ( i'.y up ill? Y:ilm river. The freights are exorbitantly
high, as the navigation is attended
uiih much risk, a:u! is indeed only possible daring
high water.
The hay of San Francisco contains some
three hundred sail of vessels, of which sonic two
hundred are idle and without crows. Previous
to the Oregon's leaving labor was maeh redite "
"miI ...iiei i illv seamen's wages.
Seamen were shinning for voyage? f?? fho Sandwich
Mauds at nominal wages?not over S'19
per month; ?o Panama. 8'iO to 8d0; to Oregon,
S7n; on the rivers from San Francisco hay,
>>(?(). This is a great reduction, as only some
two months since no seamen would accept loss
than 81-0 ; and then laborers readily commanded
from 8'd to 8S per day. This change is owing
to the accession of laborers constantly ar
riving, ami the conlmne:! rittns w.'stcti prevent
out-door ln!?i?r ti? :i grdat extent.
The Town Council ?>1" San Francisco have
had three largo sales of town lots, which have
realized upwards of oik* million of dollars, and
wore to have another sale on the 3s I of January,
j Tln'v have opened a ('it v Hospital, and arc making
gn at improvements on the streets. Rents
continue and Iniiltli'i^.s ofevery Kiml, stylo
and rendition, are living erected. I doubt
whether there is one hour in the twenty-four that
the sound of the hnininer or saw is not to be
hoard in the town of San I'ranrisco?certainly
not for the live months of mv residence.
. < . ..
(J ivat iiironvcnii'iK'ii i.s lelt lor trio wain 01
suit.ihlo pulilif huililines', ami as for tlio l'ostollioo,
I ctm.'itli'r ii a nuisance, totally tliocrotlitabl.'
to tlio liovc'initHOiit ami all connected with
it. There are but sis or eight clerks employed
in the office, and there are but two general delivery
windows; while there are some seven"1'
hundred boxes, which rent, for each name, at two
d-illurs per month, and one dollar extra for every
name additional. Here the merchants and
clerks have a grand wrangle, after the door hai
boon opened by a Col. Poor, a sort of volunteer
..clerk, who, it is understood, has the privilege of '
furnishing his acquaintances with their letters
previous to opening the windows. This Postoffice
should have thirty clerks, and at least five
windows for the general delivery. Yon may
see on any day, between the arrivals of the
steamers, from ton to one hundred persons, in ;
single file, before these windows; and the fact isy
it is impossible for the clerks to go through the
labor with the present arrangements. Men have:
been known to sell their places in the line, when
within five or six of the window, for ?16 to ?20.
It will be seen by the papers that California *
is democratic in her late vote. There was no
attempt to adopt free-soilism or Wilmot-proviso
ism in the contest The Constitution of California
had wisely settled those disturbing sentiments
so far as regards the State of California.
What position in respect to these parties the California
delegation will take, I am unable to say;
but it is hoped that they may keep aloof from "
all sectional and embittering conflicts, and support
the "Constitution and the Union."
The Oregon brought as passengers the-Calr
fjr.iia delegation to the Senate and House of
Representatives?John C. Fremont and W.- flf.Gwin
to the former, and G. W. Wright and E.
Gilbert to the latter; Thos. Butler King, Government
Agent, late M. C. from the State of
Georgia; T. B. Winston, well known in New
Orleans, and nmnv nthprs mnrp nrlnaa n/vf??.
Mrs. Fremont was ill of the fever at Panama,
aud not expected to live. *
Wehb's Expedition.?Soveral individuals'
who were attached to the ill-fated expedition
led by Webb and Audubon have arrived in San
Francisco, having reached that place aboht the
middle of December last Our informant does
not recollect any of the names except that of
Henry C. Mallory. They suffered very severely
on the route and passed tlirough many hardships.
T f nn?:
.1.1H/UUUS--JL.1.M Lil.lU.?Illff
following is vouched for as truth by the London
Athentcuin : During the visit of this child of song
to Bath, she happened to be walking with a
friend, in front of the almshouses, into one of
which she entered, and sat down a moment, ostensibly
to rest herself, but in reality to find
some excuse for doing an act of charity to the
old woman who lived in it, and whgm-4? fteVfld ~
sfSlkfep,1 ?d Jgtiejiop. At ttergrroors, was full
of the Swedish Nightingale, whom she had heard
wrm inst tlion in Batli. entertaining with her
J ~ ' o
voice all those who were so happy and fortunate
as to be able to go to the theatre. " For myself,"
said the old woman, "I have lived a long
time in the world, and desire nothing ^before 1
die but to hear Jenny Lind." "And would it
make you happy inquired her visiter. " Ay,
that it would," answered the old woman; " but
such folks as I can't go to the playhouse, and
sol shall never hear her." "Don't be sure of
that," said the good natured Jenny; " sit down
my friend and listen;" and forthwith she sang,
with all her richest and most glorious powers,one
of the finest songs she knew. The poor
old woman was beside herself with delight^
when, after concluding her song, her kind visiter
observed, "now you have heard Jenny Lind."
if she/had given the woman a hundred pound?,
she could not have afforded her half so much
pleasure. It was an act of noble charity, of the
tenderest and most delicate kind.- Money it
would have been easy for her to give, and mon-:
cv no doubt she did give; hut to sit down in an
*1 il I L_X?
almshouse, and there to can up Hie encnaninients
of her voice for the amusement of an obscure
and poor old woman, was a torching
proof of goodness of heart, which nothing we
we heard of Jenny Lind surpasses.
To know the worth of women, just imagine'
the world without them once. Where would
yon spend your Sunday nights? Who would
hold your head when you had the tooth ache?
What would you do for buttons to your shirts
or partners for your cotillions? Without girls
j a sleigh-ride squeeze would be more worthless
than a squeezed orange?cold weather would
! have an extra chill added to it, while suicides and
' broken hearts would be multiplied by an hundred.
To take the women from the world, would ho
like taking the rose from the garden?the nightingr.le
from the songsters?summer from the
year.
Georgia Burr Stoivs.?We had an interview
0:1 Monday with a gentleman from one of the
\?nrt'n>!*ii rifio<? who has for nianv years been
! r , . y y ,
! largely engaged in the importation of 1* rench
Burr atid Herman stones, and who hhs made
a visit to Savannah expressly for the purpose
of examining the (Icorgia Burr stones, mannfactured
in this citv. Ho expressed himself
much pleased witJi the specimens which he had
seen, at the manufactory here, and has gone to
the quarry for the purpose of seeing the mode
employed in getting out the stone, and to satisfy
, himself, more fully, in regard to the' extent and
areessihUity of the deposit. He informed us
that he designed making orders with a view of
| fin \ivui?iu oiunv in unwi v.i'iujj*with
t!n* imported article in flouring mills in two
of tlu* Northern cities. We learned from him
also, that a similar tost is now being made in
one of the largo flouring mills in Richmond Va.Savannah
Morning News.
Fashionable lite has been compared by a fashI
ionaulo writer to the chariot ofTullia, as it drives
I onward in its noisy triumph over the bodies of the
| fallen, however dear or venerable. Not very com
pli n^ntBvy to the "upper Ion, certainly.