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L. M. JONES, & Co. Publishers. ?? . _ __ ? w" ^^^^^^aS^=BBaa=sa5SB===aa=========a=a=!aBSaaaaHBHH5Hss5SS5H535B5HHHHfe
at the public good we aim. .. ^:y? ? ?inn
?? LEVY, Editor
V01" '' CAJIDES, SOUTH CAROLINA, SATURDAY AUGUST ?, I83T.
? H'O. 1*1.
?asast i?iw wl a?????
T?R.V?
OP THR
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OUH~NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBORS.
* * * * The house adjoining ours
on the left hand was uninhabited, and we
had, therefore, plenty of leisure to observe
our next-door neighbors on the other side.
The house without the "knocker was in
the occupation of a city clerk; and there
was a neatly-written hill in the parlor window,
intimating that lodgings lor a single
gentleman were to to let within.
it was a ne.it dull little house on the shadv
Side of the wav. with now narrow floor
# J ? " """* "**" "" 'v"
cloth in the passage, and new narrow staircarpets
up to the first fioor. The paper was
new, and the paint was new, and the furniture
was new; and all three, paper, paint
and furniture bespoke the limited means of
the tenant. There was a little red and
black carpet in the drawing-room, with a
border of flooring all the way round; a few
stained chairs, and a pembroke table. A
pink shell was displayed 011 each side of the
little side-boards, which, with the addition
of a tea-tray and caddy, a few more shells
011 the mantel-piece, and three peacock's
feathers, tastefully arranged above them,
completed the decorative furniture of the
apartment. This was the room destined for
the reception of the s ngie gentleman during
the day, and alii lie back room on the same
floor was assigned as his sleeping apartment
by night. j
" The bill had not been long in the window 1
when a stout, good-humored looking gentleman
of about five and thirty, appeared as a
candidate for the tenancy: Terms were
soon arranged, for ?he bill was taken down
immediately after his visit. Id a day or two
the single gentleman came in, a d sho tly afterwards
his real character came out.
First of all, he displayed a most extraordinary
partiality for silting up till three or
four o'clock in tlie morning, drinking whiskey
and water, and smoking cigars; then he
invited friends hoine, who used to come at
ten o'clock, and begin to get happy about
the small hours, when they evinced their
perfect contentment by singing songs with
half a dozen verses of two lines each, and a
chorus of ten, which chorus used to he shouted
forth by the whole strength of the company,
in a most enthusiastic and vociferous
manner, to the great ani.oyanre of the
neighbors, and the special discomfort of another
single gentleman over-head.
Now this was bad enounh, occurring as it
did three times a week on the average; nor
tViia all* fm* it'lipn tlw? /?niriu.i mi A\A em
. ..... ww....... . jr u.v. j
awny, instead of walking quietly down the
street, as any body else's company would
have done, they amused themselves by uViking
alarming and frightful noises, and
counterfeiting the shrieks of females in distress;
and one night' a red faced gentleman,
in a white hat, knocked in a most urgent
manner at the door of the powdered headed
gentleman, at No. 3, and wnen the powdered
headed old gentleman, who thought one
of his married daughters must have taken
ill prematurely, had groped down stairs, and
after a great deal of unbolting and keyturning,
opened the street door, the red laced
man in the white hat said he hoped he'd
excuse his giving him so much trouble, but
he'd feel obliged if he'd favor him with a
glass of cold spring water, and the loan of a
shilling for a cab to take him home; on
which the old gentleman slammed the door
and went up stuirs, and threw the contents
of his water-jug out of the window?very
; \*stright, only it went over the wrong man;
k ttand the whole street was involved in confu*
Jsioti.
tt A joke's a joke; and even practical jests
j are very capital in their way, if you can onj!y
get tho other party to see the fun ol them
tuui me j?upuiaiiwu ui uur street were so a ill
^>f apprehension as to bo quite lost to a scn^e
/of the drollery of this proceeding; and the
^consequence was, that our next dl>or neightbor
was obliged to tell the single gentleman,
k Uhat, unless he gave up entertaining his
fr iends at home, he really must be compel I*
cd to part with him. The single gentleman
J received the remonstrance with great good
* humor, and promised from that time fori'ward
to spend his evenings at a coffee-house
1?a determination which ulTorded general and
unmixed satisfaction.
, - The next night passed off.very well?eveWy
body was delighted with the change; but
(,011 iiic uu.\(, iiiu uuises wuni rt'iiewuu wiiii
\reatcr spirit than ever. The single gender's
friends being unable to see him in his
\house every alternate night, had come
V> determination of seeing him home
> I night; and What with the discordant
v /l
greeting of the friends at parting, and the *
noise created by the single gentleman in his s
passage up stairs, and his subsequent strug- <
gles to get his boots off, the evii was not to I
be borne. So our next door neighbor gave
the single gentleman, who was a very good ]
lodger in other respects, notice to quit; and i
the single gentleman went away, and entertained
his friends in other lodgings. *
The next applicant for the vacant first floor t
was a very different character from the
'troublesome single gentleman who had jint t
: quitted it. lie was a tall, thin young gen- i
jtlcman, with a profusion of brown hair, red- <
jdish whiskers, and very slightly-developed c
mustachios. He wore a braided surtout,
with frogs behind, light grey trousers, and 1
j wash leather gloves, and had altogether rather
a military appearance. So unlike the <
' roystering single gentleman! Such insinua- i
ting manners, and such a delightful address r
So seriously disposed, tool i
When he first came to look at the lodging
he inquired most particularly whether he t
was sure to be able to get a seat in the pa- j i
rish church; and when he had agreed to|r
| take them, he requested to have a list of
the different local charities, a"5 he intended
to subscribe his mile to the most deserving r
among them. Our next door neighbor was ' c
perfectly happy. He had got a lodger aijg
i last, of just his own way of thinking?a se-!f
rious, well-disposed man, who abhorred I
gaiety, and loved retirement. Me took [
down the bill with a light heart, and pic- t
tured in imagination along series of quiet e
Sundays, on which he and his lodger would a
exchange mutual civilities and Sunday pa- t
pers (
The serious man arrived, and his luggage t
was to arrive from the country next morn- i
ing. lie borrowed a clean shirt and a s
pnyei boolj from our next door neighbor, i
and retired to rest at an early hour, requesting
that he might be called punctually at a
ten o'clock next morning?not before, as t
he was much fatigued. c
I lie was called, hut did not answer; he s
was called again, but there was no reply.? t
Our next door neighbor became alarmed, c
and burst the door open. The serious man s
had left the house mysteriously, carrying with c
him the shirt, the prayer book, a tea-spoon, ?
I and the bed clothes. i
j Whether this occurrence, coupled with 11
the irregularities of his former lodger, gave 1 \
our next door neighbor an aversion to single !g
gentlemen, we know not; we only know t
that the next bill which made its appearance ! u
in the parlor window intimated, generally, 1
there were furnished apartments to let on i
| the first floor. The bill was soon removed, t
'The new lodgers at first attracted our curi- r
osity, and afterwards excitod our interest, r
I They were a young lad of eighteen or 1 c
nineteen, and his mother, a lady of about t
fifty, or it might he less. The mother wore |
a widow's weeds, and the boy was also i
! clothed in deep mourning. They were poor I
very poor; for their only means of support:!
arose from the pi tance the boy earned by j c
copying writings, and translating for their
book-sellers. They had removed from some f
country place and settled in London; partly i
because it afforded better enhances of employ- n
ment for the boy, and partly, perhaps, with v
the natural desire to leave a place where |
they had been in better circumstances, and t
where their poverty was known. They, t
i were proud under their reverses, and above s
revealing their wants and privations tostran- I
gcrs. How bitter those privations were, and \
how hard the boy worked to remove them, t!
[no one ever knew but themselves. Night \
after night, two, three, four hours after mid- t
1 night, could we hear the occasional raking c
; up of the scanty fite, or the hollow and half- i
stilled cough, Which indicated his being still c
j at wor'i; and day after day could we see r
more plainly that nature had set that un?
earthly light in his plaintive face, which is r
the beacon of her worst disease. a
Actuated, we hope, by a higher feeling c
than mere curiosity, we contrived to estab- j \
lislt first an acquaintance, and then a close ' t
intimacy, with the poor strangers. Our, I
worst fears were realized?the boy was sink-! a
ing fast. Through a part of the winter, and \
the whole of the following spring and sum*
j nior his labors were unceasingly prolonged;
, and the mother attempted to procure needle
1 work, embroidery?any thing for bread.?
A few shillings now and then were all she a
jcould earn. The boy worked steadily on? i
I dying by minutes, but never once giving 1
1 utterance to complaint or murmur. t
It was a beautiful autumn evening when c
we went to pay our customary visit to tne in- .
valid. IJis little remaining strength had c
been decreasing rapidly for two or three days 1
preceding, and he was lying on ihe sofa at I
the open window, gazing at the setting sun.
His mother hud been reading the Bible to t
him, for she closed the book as we entered, \
and advanced to meet us. (
"I was telling William," she said, "that <
we must manage to take him into the <
country somewhere, so that be may get \
quite well. He is not ill, you know, but I
he is not very strong, and has exerted <
himself too much lately." i
Poor thing! Toe tears that streamed <
through her fingers, as she turned aside '
as if to adjust her close widow's cap, too I
plainly showed how fruitless was the attempt
to deceive herself. The boy pla-, I
red one hand in ours, grasped his moth- i
er'B arm with the other, drew her hastily i
towards him, and fervently kissed her
cheek. There was a short pause. IlelJ
sunk back t*$son his pillow, and looked ;
with appalling earnestness in lus mother's I
face. I
"William! William!" said the terrified 1
parent, 'don't look at mc so?speak to i
nc, dear!" |
The boy smiled languidly, but an in- <
slant afterwards his features resolved in- \
;o the same cold, solemn gaze. <
"William, dear Wiiliam!" said the dis- '
racted mother, "rouse yourself, dear: t
lon't look at mc so, love?pray don't!
}h, mv God! what shall I do??-my dear, 1
lear boy!?he is dying!" i
The boy raised himself by a violent ef- t
ort, and folded his hands together. r
'Mother, dear mother! bury me iivthc *
>pcn fields, any where, but in these dread- J
ul streets; they have killed mc. Kiss I
nc again, mother; put your arm around t
ny neck " r
He fell back?a strange expression stole t
lpon his features, not of pain or suffer- 4
ng, but an indiscrihable fixing of every c
lerve and muscle?the boy was dead. c
3
Effects of Scolding Children.?
rhe philosopher Locke, in his "Thoughts f
:onccrning Education," endeavors to dissuade
those who have the care of children *
rom scolding them; especially in anger. s
t lessens, says he, the authority of the 1
)arcnts and tho respect of children; for 1
hey distinguish easily between passion
ind reason; and as they cannot but have ^
i reverence for what comes from the later,
so they quickly grow into a contempt s
)f the former; or if it causes a present a
error, yet it soon wears off, and natural a
nclination will easily learn to slight such
icare-crows, which make a noise, but are ?
lot animated by reason. .
Few of the errors of young children
ire regarded by the philosopher as really c
icious: and it is only when they are vi- s
:ious that they are to be restrained with c
o much pains. Even when they really
10 amiss voluntarily, a mere look or nod F
night to correct them. Or if words are !
ometimcs to be used in the management
if the child, they ought, says he, lo be ,
jrnve, kind and sober, representing the'
11 or unbccomiogncss of the fruits, rather
ban a hasty rating of the child for it,
vhich makes him not sufficiently distin- c
ruish, whether your dislike be not more s
lirccted to him than his fault. Passion- V
tie chiding usually carries rough all ill
anguagc with it, which has this further c
\'
II elfect; that it teaches and justifies it in
he children; and the names that their pa- I
cuts or preceptors give them they will
tot be ashamed or backward to bestow
in others, having so good authority for V
he use of them.
T lini'O i r ca m . a I. a f lai.lt. " . 1- ~ ^
m. uviv ^ ou 111 utu ui iuii tn nit'sc any'
ngs of Mr. Locke, that I wish they could
ic fastened, like the words of the Jewish ft
aw, to the very door posts of some of
?ur houses. Not that they would do |
nuch good where the habit of scolding
orevcr. is already fixed; but the disease
s so dangerous, and a remedy is so much
leeded, that almost any expedient is j
irorth proposing.
I am not ignorant that hundreds, during ^
he last one hundred and fifty years, have
ried to evade the lorce of Mr. L's rea- ^
oning, not by showing him to be in error ^
>ut simply by ridicule. Locke, they say,
vas not a father; and "old bachelor's chil- ^
Iren are always well governed." Now
vc find many of the truths which Mr. L. ^
caches,and this among the rest, so stamped
out in broad and plain characters, that c
lis impossible?borrowing the language
>f scripture?for him who runs, not to .(
cad. ^
Who has not observed that thoso pa- t
>pnt?t ivlm frnwn nn/1 mnnli ? "?
? ? ? ? "V " ?? ""M IllUi/llf Ul U
unong the most unsuccessful in the art ^
>f governing their families? I believe it
vill be dillicult to find an exception to 11
his rule; or at least to find a single fami- j5
y in which there is much scolding, where j
my thing like good discipline is preserved.
.
2^ a
TIIE STORM.
AN AFFF.CTINO STORY. ^
It was attalmy evening in June, when
in anxious and demoted wife sat before an |
>pen window, which overlooked part of a
>eautiful bajj^^ut formed the harbor of
he seaport ^J^vhich she resided. Her
>ye never rested on a scene more lovely. c
rhe pure blue sky without a cloud,and the $
aim clear water sleeping beneath it in its
oveliness like the baby boy that was pil- "
owed on her own fair breast. .
Rut it IVAC not t It A llPfllltV r\f llio onnnn
hat made it so attractive to her. Hers
vns not the delighted gaze of one whose !
eelingf are all absorbed in the loveliness '
if nature. On the contrary, her anxious ,
?agcr eye told that she was not satisfied
with the scene before her, though so fair 8
jut she was looking for an object of great* C
?r interest than any that appeared. Put
aot a speck was to be seen on the silvery v
expanse before her, and she turned away ^
with a disappointed and heart-sickened
feeling.
Emtna hail looked forth many times in
the duy for severul weeks on the same
*ccne, sometimes fair as now, and sometimes
deformed by storms, for the ship
which contained her dearest treasure. <
Still the husband and the father came not,
ind her thoughts grew troubled and her
icart sad, and now the tears fell fast on
he dear face of her sleeping infant. Bui
Bmma was a Christian, and the sweet pronisc,
,4Thou wilt keep him in perfect
?eace whose mind is stayed oiv Thee,"
;ame over her spirit so soothingly, and
vith a power so divine, that her heart at
>nce rested on the promise of her Allnighty
Father, anil her perturbed and
inxious feelings were hushed to repose.
While she still sat at the window, her
ittlc boy, of about ten years, ran into the
oom exclaiming, 14 O mother! dear mohcr
! father is coming !" 44 What do you
nean, my child ?" said Emma, turning
^cry pale. " Why look, mother! don't
roil sec that pilot? Well, the men on
>oard oV her say that the ship Anne is in
he oiling, and will be in the harbor before
norning." 41 O my dear boy," said Emna,
tears of joy noW filling her eyes,
4 what gratitude do we owe to our heavenly
Parent! But are you sure, are you
luite sure it was the vessel that contains
rour father'" 44O yes, mother, the men
aid they could not be mistaken, and see,
>nc of them is coming this way now, 1 do
telicve, to tell you about it himself." It
vas as William had con jectured ; the man
ioon arrived with the blessed intelligence
hat the vessel would undoubtedly be in
lie harbor before next morning.
44 What do you think father will say to
cu, little Charley," said William to his
ovely little brother, as he opened his
oft bue eyes and smiled upon him ; 44 I
m sure lie will give you so many kisses
s to make you cry, for I don't think you
ike to be kissed much. Don'tyou believe,
aid he, turning to his mother, 44 that faher
will think him the finest little fellow
le ever saw? I expect he will love him
sven better than I do," added hte, presing
his lips tenderly to his soft fair
dieok.
The grateful mother smiled upon her
>recious boys, while her heart was lifted
n adorning thankfulness to him who had
icstowed these gifts, and was about re-;
loring to them and to her the life of all j
heir earthly joys.
William's exuberance of joy continued
o overflow at bis lips, while the mother's
hastened, but far more deep, kept her
iloilt an/l t H oil irK t f. I elio lictnnol
villi complacency, and would now and
hen reply to the playful remarks of her
:hild. They were sifting in this way,
vhen a peal of thunder, loud and long,
oiled over their heads, and in a moment
?mma and her boy were at the window,
rheir eyes having been directed only towards
the water, they had not observed I
he cloud which had arisen in the cast, and
phich they now perceived had nearly
overed the heavens. *' God in mercy
reserve the father !" exclaimed Emma,
1 for I fear a storm is close at hand." in
ine short hour how had the scene before
icr changed. Dark and heavy clouds
rere driven with frightful rapidity across
he heavens, and the water was lashed to
naming fury by the violence of the wind,
t seemed indeed impossible that a vessel
ould live for a moment on the heaving
illows of that stormy sea. What a
fiange, too, in the joyous feelings of
Villiam's liftlc affectionate heart. The
>ig tears chased each.otherdonwhis sweet,
ale cheeks, and all his childish prattle !
;as forgotten.
11. ?'!?? now n^arlv (toil (into Kill nnnr
?mma thought not of retiring. Ilerun-j
onscious baby laid to rest in its little
radle, was softly breathing and sweetly
Iecping, and Wiiliam, wearied with watchrig
and weeping, sank beside him on the <
ioor, and for a while forgot his sorrows in j
lie profound slumbers of childhood. But'
lot to the mother came this soothing ,
aim. Her aching head pressed not that j
ight the pillow of repose. How could :
he bear to recline on the bed where she
ind so often rested on the dear bosom of
li.m who was now perhaps stretched 011
he rocky bed of the ocean, with the cold
nd stormy waves for his covering.
The sun which had so long gazed on
he fairest scenes of earth, never looked
orth on a lovelier morning than that
vhich succeeded this night of storm and
empest. The balminess of the soft air,
he serenity of the bne sky, and the beauy
of the bright water, were never exeeded.
But when the glad rays of that
glorious morning penetrated the sad chamber
of Emma, she covered her face and
groaned in tnc bitterness ot nor heart; lor
rhere was he in whose arms at this very
lour she hoped to have been enfolded?
flic mother's deep agonizing groan broke
he slumbers of her boy. who, starling oil
lis feet, exclaimed, 44 has father come?"
'Oh! no! my child." answered Emma,
iiirsting for the first time into a passionite
fit of weeping, 41 nor will he," I fear,
ivcr come again!"
Several weeks passed, and as nothing
vas heard of the ship which contained the
lusband of Emma, and as more than one
ressel was known to have perished duin(T
tliA storm the faint hoDCS that WCro
"N w-w W.w. ---f ".w -? r
entertained of her safety entirely vanish
;d, and Emma felt that she indeed was a \viiow.
On such an evening as that which clos%A
the fatal storm, the was sitting at the
*
window which overlooked the water, sad,
very sad, but quiet and resigned, stricken
to the dust with her earthly hopes, but
sweetly resting on him who is the widow's
God and Judge. Ilcr eldest boy was pensively
leaning his head on his motner's
arm, while his baby brother was using it
lor a plaything, and twining his tiny lingers
in the silken curls which adorned it,
the only joyous one of the group, for William
was still sorrowful when his thoughts
turned as now to his lost father.
The mother's eve, as it was sadly bent
on the water, rested on the group of men
who are standing on ils very edge, and at
this moment one of them raised a spy
glass to his face. Emma, shuddering,
turned hastily away, and a sick faint fedling
came over her, but she almost immediately
compelled herself to look again,
j ashamed of the selfishness which would
| not permit her to rejoice in the happiness
i of others, while herself was bereaved and
desolate. Some beating hearts, thought
she, are waiting with tremulous joy tho
approach of the dear objects of their love.
! Shall I not rejoice with them? 44 Run,
! William, and Sec what vessel has arrived,
I for those men are watching, I am sure, the
'approach of otic." William obeyed, tho*
reluctantly, for his little heart was grieved
whenever his eyes rested on the water.
His mother watched his tardy footsteps
i as he approached the group, who at this
{moment spying, one of them went furwaid
to meet him.
Scarcely had they came near enough to
speak, when, as though words of a magical
influence had been pronounced, William
who before scarcely moved, now tossed his
arm high in the air, and taming his tacc
{towards his mother's dtvelling, seemed borne
! along by the wings of the wind. The man
as swiftly followed, and almost bieatldess
, they both entered at the same time the abode
jof Emma. "O mother! mother!" exIclaimed
William; ''Stop, rny hoy," said his
'companion, "let me speak to your mother
; first," and turning to Emma, he added,
"fie calm madam, for we have glorious
news, wonderful news for you?the ship
Anne is close a? hand I" Emma spoke not,
I but her heaving bosom, and wildly rolling
eye frightened her boy, who running to her
and throwing himselt on her r.eck, exclaimed,
"Why, 1 thought you would be so glad
mother, that father alter all is alive, and
corning to us, but you don't look so at all,
what is the matter, why d > you look so
strangely? Emma buried her face in tho
bosom of heir child and relieved her bursting
; heart by weeping aloud. Locked in each
I others arms they mingled their tears and
their touching thanksgiving to God for his
unspeakable mercy, while the man who
stood by, though quiet, unused to the melting
mood, himself wept like an infant.
, "Rut how is it?" exclaimed Emma, her
recollections returning as her agitation partly
subsided, "has the ocoan given up its
dead ?" "No doubt," replied the man,
"they were driven out to sea, and have been
detained at some port to repair damages."
| Soon to the wailing eager eyes of the
wife and child appeared that stately ship,
the white sails filled bv a gentle breeze, and
bearing her majestically along over the soft
ripple of the sparkling waves. Soon was
she safely moored in the quiet harbor, and a
familiar, beloved form seen to step from her
decks and approach the house. Soon they
folded to that heart, which hut an hour or
t.?r .i i 1 .1 l. ? i
iwu utiurc, incjr iiuu wiuugiu no luugur
beat fey them, and dear little Charley was
praised and an hundred times kissed by
those lips they had deemed cold in death.
"Notes on the newspapers.?Fatai.
Experiment.?A .Man named Christopher
Jones?South Boston bridge?rope round
his neck?large st-me at the end of it?
dived to the bottom?experiment?meant
to come up?spectators?long timethought
all was not right?found entangled?tried
to resuscitate?unavailing, &c
?[Newspapers.]
Let us lay this example to heart. Was
ever the case of a nation more capitally represented
by the catastrophe of an individual
than in the above instance? Flow pat
to the very purpose is the very title of the
paragraph, "Fatal Experiment!" Ilow
S exactly has Christopher Jones copied the
* . ? a i a n
example set mm Dy iiie iimcrican reoj
pie! They tied a rope round their neck,
' with the millstone of Jacksonism at the
, end of it, and then made a desperate
i plunge, by way of experiment." There
is no doubt that like Christopher Jones,
they "meant to come up;" but the ocean
of folly into which they have plunged has
proved deeper than they suspected, and
they are now floundering in the mud at
the bottom, in all the agonies of suffocation?a
subject of ridicule and comtniseration
to the spectators, who begin to
bo pretty certain, by this time, that "all ia
not right." Whether they will have presence
of mind enough to cut the string
and rise to the surface in time to bo resuscitated,
'Mime," as the newspaper wiseacres
say, "only can determine."?Bos r.
I Cour.
Repartee.?A beautiful and accomplished
lady asked a gentleman how* old
he was.
41 My age," said he. 44 io what you always
cio?excbl !* (XL.)
He was forty, of course.