Camden commercial courier. (Camden, S.C.) 1837-1838, August 05, 1837, Image 2
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L. M. JONES, <& Co. PUBLISHERS. "AT THE PUBLIC GOOD WE AIM." M. M. LEVY, EDITOR,
VOIi. I. CAUDE^ SOUTn CAROUHA, SATURDAY AUGUST 5, 1837. XO. u.
TMWJfr?
OF THE
OdHtfBROX&Xi 007S.X33.;
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ouiTnext-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 bill in the parlor window,
intimating that lodgings for a single
^viiiicuiaii ivuic i" iv iui Wllllin*
it was a nc.it dull little house on the shady
stdc of the way, with new narrow fl >or
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 oil carl) side of the
little side-boards, which, with the addition
of a tea-tray and caddy, a few more shells
on the mantel-piece, and 4hree peacock's
feathers, tastefully arranged above them, I
completed the decorative furniture of the
apartment. This was the room destined for
the reception of the s ngle gentleman during
,i.. J~~ ?i - i:..i- ???
uiu uay, auu a nine uacit room on tne same .
/lour was assigned as his sleeping apartment
by night.j
The bill had not been long in the window j
when a stout, good-humored looking gentleman
of about live and thirty, appeared as a
candidate for the tenancy: Terms were
soon arranged, for ihe bdl was taken down
immediately after his visit. In a day or two
the single gentleman came in, a d slio tly afterwards
his real character canto out. |
First of all, he displayed a most extraor-1
binary partiality for sitting up till three or
four o'clock in tlie morning, drinking wliis- j
key and water, and smoking cigars; then he
invited friends hoinc, who used to come at
ten o'clock, and begin to cret haoov about
o o i r j j
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 had enough, occurring as it
did three times a week on the average; nor i
was this all; for when the company did go.
awny, instead of walking quietly down the
street, as any body else's company would
have done, they amused themselves by making
alarming and frightful noises, and !
counterfeiting the shrieks of females in dis-1
tress; and one night' a red faced gentleman. |
in a white hat, knocked in a most urgent
manner at the door of the powdered headed
.1 \T- I
gmiutHiiuu. ui no. ?>, uiiu wuen tne powder-j
oil headed old gentleman, .who thought one
of his married daughters must have taken
ill prematurely, hud groped down stairs, and
after a great deal of unbolting and keyturning,
opened the street door, tbe red faced
man in the white hat said lie hoped he'd .
excuse his giving hi in 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 j
shilling for a cab to take him home: on
which the old gentleman slammed the door j
and went up stairs, and threw the contents
of his water-jug out of the window?very
i sStright, only it went over the wrong man;1
ttand the whole street was involved in coufu-1
jsion.
ri A joke's a joke; and even practical icsts '
/are very capital in their way, if you can on*
;?y get the other party to see the fun of them
*but the popufation of our street were so d ill
^)f apprehension as to bo quite lost to "a settle
fof the drollery of this proceeding; and the
^consequence was, that our next door neigh1
t'bor was obliged to tell the single gentleman,
k Uhnt, unless he gave up entertaining his
f friends at home, he really must be compel)*
| 'I cd to part with him. The single gentleman
I J received the remonstrance with great good
> % humor, and promised from that time for"ward
to spend his evenings at a coffee-house
J ?a determination which afforded general and
J unmixed satisfaction.
The next night passed off.very well?evefty
body was delighted with the change; but
I *<pn the next, the noises wero renewed with
I Veatcr spirit than ever. The single gemlc\'s
friends being unable to see him in his
I \house evory alternate night, had come
J V determination of seeing him home
I night; and tfhat with tho discordant
0 h
greeting of the friends at parting, and the <
noise created by the single gentleman in his i
passage up stairs, and his subsequent strug- i
gles to get his boots off, the evii was not to 1
be borne. So our next door neighbor gave
the single gentleman, who was a very good j
lodger in other respects, notice to quit; and i
the single gentleman went away, and entertained
his friends in other lodgings. s
The next applicant for the varant first floor t
was a very different character from the
troublesome single gentleman who had ju<t t
|quitted it. lie was a tall, thin young gen- i
jtlcman, with a profusion of brown hair, rod- <
j dish whiskers, and very slightly-developed c
milfitiicliina 11 n u>nrn n K.iiilnrl
I ..v.w.uumvwi Aiw ?? WIS/ U Ul UIUV^U OUI IUUI?
I with fr?)gs behind, light grey trousers, and f
| wash leather gloves, and had altogether rather
a military appearance. So unlike the c
! roystering single gentleman! Such insinua- (
ting manners, and such a delightful address r
, So seriously disposed, tool r
J When he first came to look at the lodging
he inquired most particularly whether he j i
was sure to be able to get a seat in the pa- i
rish church; and when he had agreed to r
j take them, he requested to have a list of
the different local charities, a"5 he intended
to subscribe his mite to the most deserving 1
among them. Our next door neighbor was'c
perfectly happy. He had got a lodger aljs
last, of just his own way of thinking?a se-! f
rious, well-disposed man, who abhorred j I
gaiety, and loved retirement. He took jdown
the bill with a light heart, and pic- t
tured in imagination along scries of quiet a
Sundays, on which he and his lodger would a
exchange mutual civilities and Sunday pa- t
pers c
The serious man arrived, and his luggage t
was to arrive from the country next morn- i
ing. He borrowed a clean shirt and a s
priyer bool^ from our next door neighbor, r
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 v
he was much fatigued. c
lie was called, hut did not answer; he s
was called again, hut there was no reply.? id
Our next door neighbor became alarmed, o
and burst the door open. The serious man s
had left the house mysteriously, carrying with o
him the shirt, the prayer book, a tea-spoon, g
and the bed clothes. i!
Whether this occurrence, coupled with t
the irregularities of his former lodger, gave v
our next door neighbor an aversion to single Jg
gentlemen, wc know not; we only know d
that the next bill which made its appearance (u
in the parlor window intimated, generally, I;
there were furnished apartments to let on i!
the first floor. The hill was coon removed, t
The new lodgers at first attracted our curi- r
osity, and afi? rwards excited our interest, n
They were a young lad of eighteen or ! o
nineteen, and his mother, a lady of about tl
fifty, or it might be less. The mother wore |
a widow's weeds, and the boy was also ii
clothed in deep mourning. They were poor b
very poor; for their only means of support jh
arose from the pi tance the hoy earned by jo
copying writings, and translating for the n
book-sellers. They had removed from some fi
country place and settled in London; partly i*
because it afforded better qhances of employ- n
ment for the hoy, and partly, perhaps, with w
the natural desire to leave a place where |
they had been in better circumstances, and tl
where their poverty was ku >wn. They tl
were proud under their reverses, and above s
revealing iheir wants and privations tostran- b
gers. I low hitler those privations were, and ?
i i J .i i __i?? _
now i:<iru me ooy worseo 10 remove mem, U
no one evi-r knew bet themselves. Night \i
after night, two, three, four hours after mid- t<
night, could we hear the occasional raking e
up of the scanty fiie, or the hollow and half- it
stilled cough, \Vhieli indicated his being still o
at wor'i; anil day after day could we see r
more plainly that nature had set that tinearthly
light in his plaintive face, which is r
the beacon of her worst disease. a
Actuated, we hope, by a higher feeling o
than mere curiosity, we contrived to estab-j\t
.lish first'an acquaintance, and then a close tl
intimacy, with the poor strangers. Our.lj
worst fears were realized?the boy was sink- !a
ing fast. Through a part of the winter, and v
the whole of the following spring and summer
his labors were unceasingly prolonged;
and the mother attempted to procure needle
work, embroidery?any thing for bread.?
A few shillings now and then were all she a
could earn. The boy worked steadily on? o
dying by minutes, but never once giving b
utterance to complaint or murmur. tl
It was a beautiful autumn evening when c
_
we went to pay our customary visit to the in- 1
valid. 1J is little remaining strength bad c
, .1 : r.-_7 Z i
uucii iitxiuaMii^ lajnuijr it;i iwuui uiri;f uujfs n
preceding, and he was lying on the sofa at 1<
the open window, gazing at the setting sun.
His mother had been reading the Bible to t!
him, for she closed the book as we entered, v
and advanced to meet us. f
4<1 was telling Wiliiam," she said, "that n
we must manage to take him into the e
country somewhere, so that he may get v
quite well. He is not ill, you know, but L
he is not very strong, and has exerted e
himself too much lately." ri
Poor thing ! Tne tears that streamed e
through her fingers, as she turned aside v
as if to adjust her close widow's cap, too f
plainly showed how fruitless was the attempt
to deceive herself. The boy pla-, t
ced one hand in ours, grasped his moth* s
er's arm with the other, drew her hastily t
towards him! and fervently kissed her t
cheek. There was a short pause. He
sunk back his pillow, and looked
with appalling earnestness in his mother's
race.
"William! William!" said the terrified
parent, "don't look at me so?speak to
ne, dear!"
The boy smiled languidly, but an instant
afterwards his features resolved ino
the same cold, solemn gaze.
"William, d'jar Wiiliam!" said the disracted
mother, "rouse yourself, dear;
lon't look at me so, love?pray don't!
")h, my God! what shall I do??my dear,
lear boy!?he is dying!"
The boy raised himself by a violent ef
ori, and folded Ins hands together. I
"Mother, dear mother! bury me ir. the '
>pcn fields, any where, but in these dread- ;
ul streets; they have killed me. Kiss I
nc again, mother; put your arm around <
ny neck *' i
He fell back?a strange expression stole i
ipon his features, not of pain or suffer- '
ng, but an indiscrihable fixing of every <
lerve and muscle?the boy was dead. 1
Effects of Scolding Children.? !
fhe philosopher Locke, in his "Thoughts !
onccrning Education/* endeavors to disuade
those who have the rare of children
rom scolding them; especially in anger. !
t lessens, says he, the authority of the 1
>arents and the respect of children; for 1
hey distinguish easily between passion
nd reason; and as they cannot but have
? reverence for what comes from the later,
so they quickly grow into a contempt !
if the former; or if it causes a present '
error, yet it soon wears off, and natural '
nclination will easily learn to slight such
care-crows, which make a noise, but are 5
lot animated by reason. ' j
Few of the errors of young children
re regarded by the philosopher as really '
icious: and it is only when they are vi- 5
ious that they are to be restrained with *
o much pains. Even when they really
10 amiss voluntarily, a mere look or nod
ught to correct them. Or if words are
omctimcs to be used in the management
f the chili!, they ought, savs he, to be
rave, kind and sober, representing the'
11 or unbccomingncss of the fruits, rather
han a hasty rating of the child for it,
rhich makes him not sufficiently distinguish,
whether your dislike be not more
lirccted to him than his fault. Passionte
chiding usually carries rough all ill
angur.ge with it, which has this further
II elfect; that it teaches and justifies it in
lie children; and the names that their paonts
or preceptors give them they will ,
ot be ashamed or backward to bestow
n others, having so good authority for
lie use of them.
There is so much of truth in these sayigs
of Mr. Locke, that I wish thev could
w t " J r
c fastened, like the words of the Jewish ;
i\v, to the very door posts of some of
ur houses. Not that they would do |
tuch good where the habit of scolding
jrevcr. is already fixed; hut the disease
; so dangerous, and a remedy is so much ^
eeded, that almost any expedient is j
rorth proposing.
I am not ignorant that hundreds, during ^
!ic last one hundred and fifty years, have
ricd to evade the force of Mr. L's rea- y
oning, not by showing him to be in error ^
ut simply by ridicule. Locke, they say,
/as not a father; and "old bachelor's chil- |
ren are always well governed." Now
rc find many of the truths which Mr. L. j
Baches,and this among the rest, so stampd
out in broad and plain characters, that c
Lis impossible?borrowing the language
f scripture?for him who runs, not to .
ead. '
Who has not observed that thoso paents
who frown and scold much, arc
inong the most unsuccessful in the art [
f governing their families? I believe it
fill be difficult to find an exception to '
liis rule; or at least to find a single fami- ^
f in which there is much scolding, where j
ny thing like good discipline is presere'd.
.
a
THE STORM.
AN AFFF.CTINO STORT. ,
It was a*>almy evening in June, when
n anxious and demoted wife sat before an J
pen window, which overlooked part of a
eautiful baj^^at formed the harbor of
lie seaport.'VPwhich she resided. Her
ye never rested on a scene more lovely. (
^he pure blue sky without a cloud, and the j
aim clear water sleeping beneath it in its
liveliness like the baby boy that was pil- s
awed on her own fair breast. (
But it was not the beauty of the scene ,
bat mode it so attractive to her. Hers (
/as not tlie aciigiueti gaze 01 one whose .
[ clings are all absorbed in the loveliness ?
f nature. On the contrary, her anxious .
ager eye told that she was not satisfied
vith the scene before her, though to fair 1
ml she was looking for an object of great* (
r interest than anv that appeared. But
lot a speck was to be seen on the silvery >
xpansc before her, and she turned away I
vith a disappointed and heart-sickened 1
celing. 1
Emtna had looked forth many times in {
he day for several weeks on the same {
icene, sometimes fair as now, and tome- '
imcs deformed by 6torms, for the ship
vhich contained her dearest treasure. <
Still the husband and the father came not,
and her thoughts grew troubled and her
heart sad, and now the tears fell fast on
the dear face of her sleeping infant. But
Emma was a Christian, and the sweet promise,
<4T1iou wilt keep him in perfect
peace whose mind is stayed on- Thee,"
came over her spirit so soothingly, and
with a power so divine, that her heart at
once rested on the promise of her Allmighty
Father, anil her perturbed and
anxious feelings were hushed to repose.
While she still sat at the window, her
little boy, of about ten years, ran into the
room exclaiming, O mother ! dear mo.1,i
?? ? * -
tiiei i luuicr is coming i " H nai UO you
mean, my child?" said Emma, turning
very pale. 44 Why look, mother! don't
you seo that pilot? Well, the men oil1
board oV her say that the ship Anne is in,'
the oiling, and will be in the harbor before j
morning." 44 O my dear boy," said Ern-|
ma, tears of joy notfcr filling her eyes, <
14 what gratitude do we owe to our heav- ,i
enly Parent! But are you sure, are vou|i
quite sure it was the vessel that contains 'i
your father."' 44 O yes, mother, the inenj!
said they could not be mistaken, and see, j
one of them is coming this way now, 1 do :
believe, to tell you about it himself." It'i
was as William had con jectured ; the man ' i
soon arrived with the blessed intelligence <
that the vessel would undoubtedly be in
the harbor before next morning. n
44 What do you think father will say to i
yen, little Charley," said William to his
lovely little brother, as he opened his
oft bue eyes and smiled upon him ; 4< I i
im sure he will give you so many kisses
is to make you cry, for I don't think you
like to be kissed much. Don'tyou believe,
said he, turning to his mother, 44 that fa-, I
thcr will think him the finest little fellow |i
lie ever saw? I expect he will love him
even better than I do," added hfc, pres-j
sing his lips tenderly to his soft fair;
:hcok. |
The grateful mother smilecl upon her'
precious boys, while her h6art was lifted ;
n adorning thankfulness to him who had i
jestowed these gifts, and was about re-'
iloring to them and to her the life of all j
heir earthly joys. I
William's exuberance of joy continued
.0 overflow at his lips, while the mother's
chastened, but far more deep, kept her
silent and thoughtful, though she listened
iviili 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
Smma and her boy were at the window.
Their eves having been directed only tovards
the water, they had not observed!
he cloud which had arisen in the cast, and
vhich they now perceived had nearly
'<lV#>rf>d lll#> linnvma it <2miI ir? mnmir
? - * J ,
>rescrve the father !" exclaimed Emma, i
* for I fear a storm is close at hand." In I
>nc short hour how had the scene before <
tcr changed. Dark and heavy clouds '
vere driven with frightful rapidity across <
he heavens, and the water was lashed to !
banting fury by the violence of the wind. >
t seemed indeed impossible that a vessel t
ould live for a moment on the heaving 1
illows of that 6tormy sea. What a r
ihange, too, in the joyous feelings of g
iVilliam's liftle affectionate heart. The f
bg tears chased each.otherdonw his sweet, c
>ale checks, and all his childish prattle (
ras forgotten. t
It was now nearly bed time, but poor 1
Mnma thought not of retiring. Herun-jj
onscious baby laid to rest in its little t
radle, was softly breathing and sweetly
lecping, and Wiiliam, wearied with watchng
and weeping, sank beside him on the 1
loor, 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
light the pillow of repose. How could ;1
he bear to recline on the bed where she *
lad so often rested on the dear bosom of iiu
who was now perhaps stretched on
he rocky bed of the ocean, with the cold <
ind stormy waves for his covering. 11
The sun which hud so long gazed on 1
he fairest scenes of earth, never looked i
orth on a lovelier rooming than that |
vhich succeeded this night of storm and >
empest. The balrniness of the soft air,
he serenity of the bue sky, and the beau- j
y of the bright water, were never ex:eeded.
But when the glad rays of that)
rlorious morning penetrated the sad eham- i
>ef of Emma, she covered her face and
rroaned in the bitterness of her heart; for
vhere was he in whose arms at this very
lour she hoped to have been enfolded?
Hie mother's deep agonizing groan broke
he slumbers of her hoy, who, starting on
lis feet, exclaimed, "has father come?"
'Oh! no! my child." answered Emma,
rursting for the first time into a passionttc
fit of weeping, "nor will he," 1 fear,
?vcr come again!" fi
Several weeks nassed. and as nothing a
vas heard of the ship which contained the *
lusband of Emma, and as more than one "
vessel was known to have perished during
the storm, the faint hopes that were
jntertained of her safety entirely vanish
ed, and Emma felt that she indeed was a \vi- |
low.
On such an evening as that which clos- i
ed the fatal storm, she 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. Iler eldest boy was pensively
leaning his head on his Mother's
arm, while his baby brother was using it
lor a nlavtliiiiff nml I.:- ''"u
? i' ---j - ^1 MMVI m llir> Uil~
gcrs 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 its 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 feeling
came over her, but she almost immediately
compelled herself to look again,
ashamed of the selfishness which would
not permit her to rejoice in the happiness
of others, while herself was bereaved and
Jcsolatc. 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 ? " Run,
William, and sec what vessel has arrived,
for those men are watching, I am sure, tho
approach of one." William obeyed, tho*
reluctantly, for his little heart was grieved
whenever his eyes rested on the water.
His mother watched his tardy footsteps
as he approached the group, who at thig
moment spving, one of them went forxvaid
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 turning his tacc
towards his mother's dwelling, seemed borne
along by the wings of the wind. The man
as swiftly followed, and almost breathless
they both entered at the same time the abo.lo
of Emma. "O mother! mother!" exclaimed
William; ''Stop, my boy," said his
companion, "let me speak to your mother
first," and turning to Emma, he added,
'fie calm madam, for we have glorious
lews, wonderful news for you?the ship
\nnc is close at hand 1" Emma spoke not,
but h.r heaving bosom, and wildly rolling
?yc 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 after all is alive, and
coming to us, hut 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 Iter child and relieved her bursting
lieart by weeping aloud. Locked iu each
ilhers arms they mingled their tears and
heir touching thanksgiving to God for his
inspeakable mercy, while the man who
itood by, though quiet, unused to the meltng
m.?od, himself wept like an infant.
"Rut how is it?" exclaimed Emma, her
ecollections returning as her agitation party
subsided, "has the ocoan given up its
lead ?" "No doubt," replied the man,
'they were driven out to sea, and have been
Jetaincd at some port to repair damages."
Soon to the wailing eager eyes of the
vife and child appeared that stately ship,
he white sails filled bv a gentle breeze, and
>earing her majestiraliy along over the soft
ipple of the sparkling waves. Soon was
die safely moored in the q.iiet harbor, and a
amiliar, beloved form seen to step from her
leeks and approach the house. Soon they
bided to that heart, which but an hour or
wo before, they had thought no longer
>eat f# them, and dear little Charh y was
)raiscd and an hundred times kissed by
hose lips they had deemed cold in death.
"Notes on the newspapers.?Fatal
Experiment.?\ Man narded Christopher
lones?Soutli Boston bridge?rope round
lis neck?large st mc at the end of it?
lived to the bottoiv?experiment?meant
o come up?spectators?long time?
hought all was not right--found cntan[led?tried
to resuscitate?unavailing, &c
?[Newspapers.]
Let us lay this example to heart, "Was
jver the case of a nation more capitally represented
bv the catastrophe of an indivi
lua! than in the above instance? How pat
0 the very purpose is the very title of the
paragraph, "Fatal Experiment!" How
exactly has Christopher Jones copied the
jxarnple set him by the American People!
They tied a rope round their neck,
ivilh the millstone of Jacksonism at the
3nd of it, and then made a desperate
>lunge, by way of "experiment." There
s no doubt that like Christopher Jones,
1 i >? L..? -1.
ni'V "meani 10 cumrc up; uui inc ocruu
?f folly into which they have plunged has
uoved deeper than they suspected, and
hey are now floundering in the mud at
he bottom, in all the agonies of suffocation?a
subject of ridicule and comtnis>ration
to the spectators, who begin to
>e pretty certain, by this time, that "all i9
jot right." Whether they will have pretence
of mind enough to cut the string
ind rise to the surface in time to bo reusc.italcd,
'Mime," as the newspaper wiseteres
say, "only can determine."?Bo sr.
Jour.
Repartee.?A beautiful and accomplished
lady asked a gentleman hote old
te was. "
My age," said he, " is what you always
do?excel!" (XL.)
He wee forty, of course.