University of South Carolina Libraries
I DEVOTED TO SOUTHERN RIGHTS, MORALITY, AGRICULTURE, LITERATURE, AND MISCELLANEOUS NEWS. JAMES H. NORWOOD, EDITOR.] VOL. 1. To thine ownself be tme; And it must follow as the night the day; Thou const not then be false to any man.—H amlkt. DARLINGTON C. H., S. G'., THURSDAY MORNING OCTOBER 23 1851. THE DARLINGTON FLAG, 18 PUHLMHKD EVERY THURSDAY H0&MHR, AT DAUMNGTOX, C. If., F. C., BV NOUWOOD & DE EOItTCF. TERMS OF SUBSCr.IPTIOX I In advance, (per annum,) - - - $2 00 At the expiration of aix months - 2 50 At the end of the year ... - - 3 00 ADVERTISING t Advertisements, inserted at'75 cents a B'inarc (fourteen lines or less.) for the first, and 37| cts. for each subsequent insertion. BusinessCAKiMMiotexceeding ten lines, nserted at #5, a year. MISC El< r,AN HO O S. THE MOD MJBB. BV FROIKSSOK ALUEUX. “Come children it is time for you to list,” said Mrs. Klliot to little Henry and Jane ; “wo are going into the country to-day.” “Where are we going ?” said Henry rubbing bis eyes very hard. “We are going to sec uncle Guy- lord.” “Oh! are we!” said Henry jumping out of bed and dancing around the room. “Sister we shall see the lambs, and the pigs and the cows and the chickens that uncle told us about.” “Shall we see the little colt that un de is going to giro me !” said Jane. “I presume'you will,” said Mrs. Kl imt “but ronir Mini he dressed now.— You cannot go before you are dressed, you know.” The children were at length dressed but not till thev had iieen told a great many, times to ‘•stand still,’while their mother was fastening their clothes. After breakfast Mr. and Mrs. E. ami the children set out out on their jour- ney. They readied uncle Gaylord’s in safety, about tile middle of the after noon. Henry mid James were the mo •- anxious to see tin* animal : above nr'.me than they were to see their unci' find aunt Toward evening their father led them forth to gratify their curiosity. They first went to a yard, in which there were about a dozen pigs. The_\ wore very small and very clean, and looked so much alike that you could not tell one from another. M hen the children leaned upon the fence nnd looked at them, they tossed up their noses and kicked up their heels, and scampered to the farthest part of tV yard, and then came hack to the place whence they start 'd and stood facing their visitors. Then some of them put their nosses together as though they wore whispering and telling one anoth er what they thought of Henry and Jane, and then they ail ran aw*ay again and stopped in the other extremity of the yard. •‘Oh! how I wish I had one of them! said Henry. “So do I,” said Jane. “You may have one if von will enteh him,” said uncle Gaylord. “Will they not bite f” said Henry. “No, they will not bite you. “PaMwmay I catch one?” “Yes.” “Henry climed over the fence into the yard. The pigs stood and looked at him till ho came near them and then away they ran to the other end of the yard. There they waited for him till he came very near them and then they ran back to the other end; and thus they kept ninningj»ftck uud forth seem ing to be well pleased with the sport— At last Henry was convinced that they were too nimble for him. He came out of the yard, comforting him self with the reflection that he tould catchMhem if he could only run fast enough. The next visit was to the sheep pas ture. It contained a great many sheep. As soon as they saw uncle Gaylord, they set up a great baa-ing, and came running toward him. Henry was af raid and got behind his father, mid Jane entreated her father to take her unin his arms. The sheep came up close to uncle Gaylord ami licked his hand*; and one little lamb came up to Usury, mid licked his face. Doth the sheen and the lambs were very fat and fine looking. At »««set the cows come home.— They stood near the kitchen door, chewewing the end and wmitiing to be milked. They were very smooth and hue looking cows and so gentle that a child might without fear take hold of their hofns. Quo cow who had very long, crooked horns held down her head while Henry felt of them and pat ted her forehead. i ‘‘Papa,” said Henry, ‘'What makes all of uncle Gaylord’s animals look so well?” “Because he takes good care of them. He is an excellent farmer.” When Henry and Jane went to bed it was a long time before they fell as leep ; they had much to say about what they had seen. Henry was sure he would be a farmer when he came to be a man. On the next mornning their uncle took them to lido. There were two seats in the wagon. Mr. E. and mu'j G. saton one seat, and Henry and Jane on the other. The brothers were so busy talking that the children could not ask them any questions. By-and-by, they stopped at a farm -house where un cle Gaolord had some business to tran sact. The children went to see a flock of sheep that were in a field very near the house. They did not look like un cle Gaylords’s sheep. They were lenn and dirty and ran away when Henry came near them. “I don’t believe,” said Henry, “that this man gives his sheep enough to cat. Ho cannot he a good farmer 1 know.” When they reached home, Henry asked his father if the owner of the sheep they saw a good farmer. “Yes" said Mr. E. “your uncle says he is a very good farmer.” “Yes” said uncle Gaylord “he is the best farmer in the township.” “Why do not his sheep and lambs look better?” said Henry “i'ehas a very niiruly flock; they break out of the pasture very often and feed on a poisonous weed that grows in an adjoining field.” “Does it poison them to death 1” “No it does not kill them, hut it makes them lean, and causes them to shed their wool and. in consequence, to look very shabby. Their owner takes great pains to keep them in their pas ture which is a fine one, hut they, hv some Cleans, often get out. “Ought those sheep to blame their owner for being lean?” sal 1 Mr. E, “No sir, for it is their ow n fait.” “There are a great many people in the work! who are as unreasonable as the sheep would ho if they were to blame their owner for their leanness. “I do not know what papa means.” “There arc a great many persons in the world who make themselves unhap py, and then blame the Lord for it.— If that man's sheep had only dono as their owner wanted them to do, would have been fat and healthy ; and so if iiica will do as God wants to have them do, they will bo happy. The un happiness in the woi Id is owing to the wickedness of man Hot to a lack of goodness on the part of God. Every good thing that you would enjoy comes from God’s goodness: every evil thing which you sulfor is the result of man’s wickedness.” From tho New-York Picayune. PROF. JULIUS CESAR IIAYYIBIL’S SCI ENTIFIC DISCORDS. Bkuddees and Sistkks;— My lectur dis vbvniu in conseques ob seberal reasons will be on deobsor- bin’ subject ob MALGAMATION. Do word ’Malgamation,’ cordin to de works ob Dockter Kobe!, on do “Anatnnl lYobosus ob de Elemfent,” detived from a old Dueh painter man, an’ simply mean a mixin’ up ob kul- lers. l>e fust fhstinck ob de mixin’ up ob cullers ’mong men and wiinin on record in g’ogra|>hy was when old massa Moses nrnrfct ft ctiller’d womin, jis to luff de Africins see dnt ho was not afeerd to mix will deni in dcfullest sencc ob de word nnd eber scnce dat old Jew man marrid dat black woman, all demean, stingy ole wite fellers dnt am too miserly to keep a wite ’omin ns should be am tryin to inflame de beds ob de kullor’d people wid dere Malga- mntion doctrin, for ebory now and den we hear ob some sassy wite feller a run away wid some lubly culered gal, an’ puttin’ olffor Bostin, wharede folks like such tings, as fnsa as de raterode can carry ’em, an,’ my friencs dis state ob things am looking more omnibus ebery day, for dar ant not not an Eas tern paper dat I lay my ban’s on but wat contaues a call for a meetin’ ob de wite trash to consider de qncstum ob nholishnn an’ .Malgama shun; hut my deluded friens dis am all gass an gnmmou about d isc fellers, simfersiain’ wid do kullered race. AU ifey want am to sasagefry der charcole appetites by foolin round de hibliest ob our fare sec. Ef 1 had a darter, and she was as liNinble as a rinosinboss, before one of dese wite rascals should lay his pur- lash hands on her welwt skin I'd do as de ole Romun, Warginus ob ole, did, wheft old King Kruse tried to lay his wiolnte ban’s onoe bnaaom ob he dar ter—I’d smash him chops wid a Balo- ny sassinger. I ’member well- wen I seed de actor man in de playhouse play dis good Mr. yVarginius. 1 recumlect now a young man dat was named Isil- ous who was a how to de doctur told ’im dat Wargioius looked mity cross, and sed, “Dont you see dis arm bub ? It is a Rinnan’s and lias manured de side!” Dc facum, my sleepy henreas these wite abolishonists want to swashente wid de darkey population so dat dey will cum ebery kind oh queer game nber you to complish dere purpose.— Dey only want to pull de wool oher de eyes oh your blushin’, blumin’ dam sels jis like de dehbil pulls de wool ober da eyes oh de sinner, and it am my private ‘opinion dat dese wite peop les nint as far gettin’ into lichen as I am to hah my my sallary raised to a lubbin pint and de Lord nose dat am fur’nufl‘off; but my stingy fi lends, if dis state ob tings am lowed to ’sist much longer, it will trow de cogw’eol ob subilitashun outob jint, break off de axel trees which dis circnlombitlar arth goes round, bust do Idler ob de na tion upset de cars ob aiistocrasy nnd spill all society which catastryphy wood, ob kosc smash de ole constitu tion, an we hah to lit) on de by-lay for eber afterwards which case any a lac derefore let it slide into your nolage- box, v. id all de cse an grace dat you would swoller a frieod clam. Du “Ilannable Guards,” de cullered soger company raised in honor ob vore pooly supported laborers an nam- arter him went on a shutting iron seur- tion week afore lass. I hail a invite to go ’long but not b.abin eny par ob boots in pertieulur, 1 didn't go. Dev had do darkey band ipng an’ oueoh de abolitionists kaii^ de target, an’d bear dey had fuss rate times. Dis an’t halt what de darkeys ob New-York can do. It am only a spccement ob what dey git a chance. I undartad’ from Ril! Tielip, da fiferdat a new darkey com pany am ra?*in’, to bo called de Breech or Fencenbles. Brudder Julius Henry Sturgeon will do de congresliuni de honor ob paasin’ ronud de susser, and he will keep his i eye skinned for kounteifit gold dollars l har dey am worry much in wogue jis ; now. A BRAGiniiriN cm. The New Orleans Delta tells the fol lowing good story:— A gentleman recently returned from Havana who whilst there visited the prisoners of the late expedition ; in the Puuta relates an anecdote illustrative of the sang froid which enters so largely into tho American character. He says when ho entered the room where the prisoners were nnd observed their for lorn appearance—suffering from the re cent fatigues nnd deprivations of their extraordinary cmnpagn—their heads shaved—their legs chafed and wear ing the prison dress—he felt so griev ed and affected that he could with dif ficulty restrain his tears. Commen cing conversation with the prisoners he soon discovered, however that tlioutrli their appearance might be ever so for lorn their minds were far from pros trate, but with firmness which marks the American character they bore up not only with fortitude but with cheer fulness and apparent indifference to their physical snflerings. The sympa thizing visitor, in words which were nearly choked with grief asked his af flicted countryman if they wanted any thing. “Yes,” responded one of the prison ers “you would greatly oblige me if you would let me know how the elec- went in M4pe.” “Bragg elecedt,” was the reply. “Hura for that!” exclaimed the un happy prisoner; “Jim hand us over that dollar—the submisionists are ticked. “During the war of 1812, it happen ed that invasion was expected in the town of Lynn, situated at the mouth of the Connecticut river. Tho ‘spirit of the times” had previously manifested it- sc!j in militia gatherings and organiza tions, and the individual who had un- di'i'takjsu. to discipline the rustics in the art oWrer was one Captain Tinker, who had advanced his company to a high state of ‘theoretical practice,’ by the aid of broom-sticks and corn-stalks inttrpersed here and there with a rusty old ‘Queen's arm.’ Well, several fero cious and deteri'Uniil ‘barades were executed,! u anticipation of the enemy's advent. Bolls were cast, guns scoured, flints picked, and the ‘troops’ were set to work in digging a trench which should command the entrance of the river, under the supervision of Col. S— who was a veteran of the revolution- It waa not long before some gun-boats were seen approaohing closely followed by two Eiigliah frigates, and ns they came within range, a shot or two was fired. The troops were all duly en trenched; and thrust through their em bankment, the muzzles of two culvc- rins, fully charged with death dealing material, stoop ‘grinning grim defiance’ to foreign invasion, and awaiting the charge. But at this juncture our doughty captain was not to be found. The valiant colonel had ridden up and down the lines in vain in search of hiu# but at length he espied in the distance a dirt covered head bobbing up and down occasionally from the ground, whose ‘continuations were evidently busily engaged in finding the bottom of a deep hole. In the summer-tide of passion, the colonel rode up to the spot and exclaimed; What the devil are you doing in that hole, Captain Tinker.— Why are you not at the head of your troops?’ ‘Troops be d d’ replied the captain; it’s their business to take care of themselves; this is my hole; I dug it last night, and the cursed Brit ishers can hit me if they kin—let ’em slnite! Let troops git under their sand banks, if they don’t want to git ; they got one!’ Wasn’t this an exhibition of the ‘better part of valor’in a commend ing officer. The Best Recommendation.—A youth seeking employment, went to one of our large cities, and on inquiring at a certain counting-room if they wished a clerk was told that they did not. On mentioning the recommendation he had, one of which was from a highl y res pectable citizen, the merchant desired to see them. In turning over his carpet hag to fiiml his letters, a book rolled out on the floor. “W hat book is that,” said the luerciutnL. “It is the Bible, sir,” was the reply. “And what are going to do with that book in N«w Yoikt” ! The lad looked seriously into the mer chant's face, and replied, “J promised my mother / would read it eviry day, and / shall do if,” and burst into tears. The merchant immediately engaged his •er\ ices, and in due time be became a partner in the firm, one of the most res pectable in the city. Fit fou a Lawyer.—An old lady walked into a lawyer’s office lately, when the following conversation took place: Lady.—Squire, I called to see if you would like to take this boy and make a lawyer of him. Lawyer.—Tho boy appears rather young, madam. How old is he? Lady.—Seven years, sir. Lawyer.—He is too young—deci dedly too yoang. Have you no boys older? Lady.—Oliyes, sir, I have several: but we bare concluded to make farmers ol the others. I told you my man I thought this little feller would make a first rate lawyer, and so I called to see if you would take him. Lawyer.'—No mam ; he is too young yet to commence the study of the pro fession, But why do you think this boy so much better calculated for a lawyer than your other sons ? Lady.—Why, you see, sir, he is just seven years old to-day; whan he was only five, he’d/i'c like all nature; when be got to be six, be was saury and im pudent as any critter could lie; and now he’ll steal every thing bo can lay his hands on. H ARD OF HEARING—A LOVE STORY. A young Jonathan once com ted the daughter of an man that lived down East who profeWed to be deficient in heniing—but forsooth, was more capa cious than limited in bearing as the sequel will tend to show. It was a stormy night inYhc ides of March if I mistake not amid lightning and loud peals of thunder that Jonathan sat by the old man’s fireside discussing with the old lady (his intended mother- in-law) on the expediency of asking the old mail's permission to marry Kal,— Jonathan resolved to pop it the old man th next day—“but,” says be “as I think of the task, my heart shrinks, and reso lution weakens—he’s so dang’d hard to hear a body." In the meantime the old man, \*no was hypocritical so far as hearing was concerned feigned to tal indifference to the conversation be tween his wife and Jonathan but con trary to the anticipation of both he dis tinctly heard every word that passed by dawn of another day the man was to be found in his bam lot feeding his pigs. Jonathan also rose from bed early in the morning and spied the old man feeding his pigs, and resolved to ask him for Sal- Scarce had minute elapsed after Jon athan made hislaat resolutifib ere he hid the old man good morning. Now Jonathan’s heart beat—now i^|cratoh- ed his head and gave birth t^ja nsivo yarns. Jonathan declared that he’d as leave “take thirty-nine stripes” as to ask the old man. “But says he aloud i to himself, “however, hero goes it a faint heart never won a fair girl,” and addressed the old man thus: “I say, old man, I want to marry your daughter?” Old man—“Non want to borrow ni\ . halter. 1 would lend it it to you Jon- ! a than but my son has taken it off to the mill.” Jonathan put his mouth close to the old man’s ear and speaking in a dea fening voice, said,—“I have got forty- five pounds of money!” The old man stepped back, as if greatly alarmed and exclaimed in a voice of surprise, “you have got five hundred pounds ofhoncy! What in tlie mischeif can I do with so much hon ey, Jonathan ? Why its more than all the neighborhood has use for ?” Jonathan who was not yet the vic tim of despair put his mouth to the old man’s ear and brawled out “I’ve got ^ gold. ’ To this the old man replied, so have I Jonathan; and it is the worst cold I ever had in my life.” So saying ; the old man sneezed, wash-ud- By this time the oid lady came out i n,,< l having observed Jonathan's unfor tunate luck, she put her mouth up to the old man’s ear, und scrameil like a wounded Zeno—Daddy—“I say, dad- <!)', y ou don t understand him; he wants to many our daughter.” Old man—“1 told him my c: lf-Iial- ter was gone.” Old lady—‘‘Why, daddy you cant understand :hc’s got gold ; he’s rich. Old man—“He’s got a cold and the itch eh? Mhat’s the dexil are doing here with the itch eh ?” So saying the old man aimed a blow at Jonathan’s head his walking staff; happily for Jon athan he dodged it. Nor did the rage of our hero stop at this, hut with an angry countenance he made after Jona than who took to heels nor dii] Jona thans luck stop here he had not gone out of the barn-yard nor far from the old man who run him a close race ere Jonathan stumbled his his toe and fell to the ground, and before the old man- could stop he stumbled over, Jonathan sprung to big heels and with the speed oi John Gilpin, cleared himself. And poor Sal! she died a nun. Never had a husband. FRlDi TIIF KNICKERBOCKER. “Lawyers are a grave sedate race when ’on duty,’ but out of court we know of no class who cultivate the hu. morous more assiduously, and we may add more effectively. R ead the follow- jug, for example sent us by one of ’em: “In one of the western counties of the down east’ state, there waved many years ago, and for many years an ar tillery company famous in all the coun try side for its parades and sham-fights. To see the Paris artillery of a ’trainin- day was ‘an aim and an achievement. In the time of the last war with Eng land its meetings were frequent and exciting. Lieutenant J—■■■ n, remem bered for his love o' “ or hate of the federalists and habitual use and misuse ot tho word business,’ was balmy be yond question when late in the after noon of training.day, he was invited by the captain, in accordance with the usage ol those days, to take command of the company for a short drill before breaking up. Bracing himsell as well as he could against a large elm he com menced giving orders: ‘Fcllowsogcrs p’ise swoard ? ” said he. After some little time lie roused himself and repea ted p’so swoard ! Why lieutenant we’ ve been p'ised for five inluutes,’ ex claimed one of the sergents. Well the his-ness is keep p’ised ! hicoughed the lieutenant. “1 was in the same country in the time of the old Common Pleas Court that an elderly and garrulous female witness was called to give her testimo ny incase before the bench. Her an swers to the counsel were so confused and unsatisfactory that at length the Court) interfered and inquired who she had been talking about. Nancy Knee- land now in divine presence was the prompt reply. “At a recent term of the court in an eastern country, J sH n or Uncle Jemmy as he is familiarly called was a juryman. Several actions of H ,a clock vendor came ou for tri al. Ail the cases, good and bad alike going against the plaintiff some one as ked Uncle Jemmy how it happened.— Why said he Moot all of the jury had some of them dorks!” There was re tribution,' moral and legal.* The cultivation of tlie heart should be like that of a garden, where we prune and weed he tore we begin to plant. [BiORWMB k DE LIIRUE, PIBLISIIERS NO. 34. SELECTIONS FOR NEWSPAPERS. Most persons think the selection of suit able matter lor a newspaper the easier part of the business. How great an er ror! It is by all means the most difficult. 11) look over and over hundreds of ex change papers every day, from which to select enough for one, especially when the question is not what shall, but what shall not bo selected, is indeed “no easy task.' 11 every person who reads u news paper, could have edited it, we should hear less complaints. Not unfrequenlly it is the case mat an editor looks over all his exchanges for something interesting, and can absolutely find nothing. Every pa per is dryer than a contribution box ; and yet something nust lie had—his paper must have something in it, and he does the host he ran. To nn editor who has the b ast care about what selects, the wri ting he does is ihe easiest part of his la- bor. A paper w hen completed should tie one the editor would be willing to read to his wife, bis mother, or his daughter; and if he do that, if he gets such a pajier, he will find his labor a most difficult one. Every subscriber thinks the paper is printed tor his especial benefit, and if there is nothing in it that suits him it must be stopped, it it good for nothing. Some people look over the deaths and marriages, and naturally complain of the editor, if but few people in the vicinity of have been so unfortunate as to die, or so fortunate as to get married tho previous week. An editor should have such things in his pa per whether they occur or not. Just as many subscribers ns ay editor may have, justeo many tastes he has to consult. One wants stories and poetry ; another abhors all this. The politician wants nothing but politics. One must have something sound. One likes anecdoti s, fun and frolic, and a next door neighbor wonders that a man ot sense will put such stuff in his paper. •Something spicy comes out, and the edi tor is a blackguard. Next comes some thing argumentative, and the editor is a dull fool. And so between them all, you see the poor fellow gets roughlv handled. And yet, to mnefy-nine out of ii hundred, these things never occur. They never reflect that what does not please them, may please tin next man, but the y insist that it tlie paner does not suit them, it is good for nothing.— Exchange Paper. Taking Aotice.—A good many years ago when there were slaves in Massachu setts, a clergyman in Essex Co., hud an old favotjte servant by the name ofCuffec. CuffeecTcourse always went to church, and observing that other gentlemen took notes of the sermon, he took it into ins head one Sunday to do so himself, and accordingly prepared himself with the re quisite materials, and spread himself to the task. W hen the minister reached home In- sent for C’uffee to come into his study. “Well, Caff e,” said he,“what were you doing in meeting, this afternoon?” “Doing, Massa? Taking notes!” was his reply. “A’ou taking notes ?” exclaimed the mas ter. “N'artin, Massa: all the gentlemen take notes.” “Well, let me see them,” said the mas ter. Cuffs© ilfrcupon produced his sheet of paper, and his master found it scrawled all over with all sorts of marks and lines, as though a dozen cf spiders dipped in ink, had marohed over it. “Why this is all nonsense,” said the minister, as lie looked at the “notes.” “VV ell, Massa,” Cuffee replied, “ 1 thought so all the time you was preaching.” A Wife.—When a man of sense comes to marry, it is a companion whom lie wants, not an artist. It is not merely a creature who can paint, and play, and sing and dance; it is a being who can comfort and counsel him, one who can reason and reflect and feel and judge and discriminate one w ho can assist him in affairs, lighten his sorrow, purify bis Joy strengthtm his principles and educate his children. Such is the woman who is fit •or a mother, and the mistress of a Lmilf. A woman of the former description may occasionally figure in the draw ing room, and attract admiration of the company but she is entirely unfit for a help mate to ' Id • ' the a man and to “train up a child m way he should go.”—Port Folio. CITTINGS- Now w tlie time to put in cuttigls ; al most every tree or shrub will grow from a cutting, if proper care and attention be given tin-in. We have grown pears, ap ples, peaches and cherries from cuttings, and nearly every variety of flowering bush grown from cuttings planted in Oc tober. The soil for cuttings should be mellow and ricli; rich in vegetable mat ter, and as cool as possible. The great advantage of October planting is, in the roots forming in the fall and winter, there by giving the plant a vigorous start in the spring, enabling it to brave the heat of summer. Cuttings should be placed iti the ground horizontally, with but two buds above the surface, and the but end of the cuttings should always rest against the solid earth. The roots arn surer tc radiate from the base and once having ta ken hold, willbe likely to live. Lrrvers of fruits and flowers, try cutting* ialBctober -MoftheHoua. , ~ Honesty and industry are the only pis and unobstructed, roads to endless fan and ever!asiii% http pines s. Mam •me