Edgefield advertiser. (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, February 14, 1855, Image 1
"We will cling to the Pillars of the' Temple of." P r Liberties, and Wfit must fall, w iersaie Ri."
F. DURISOE & SON, Proprietors. EDGEFIELD S. C., FEBRUARY 14, 1855. -O --I*- -
THE E0D-EIELD ADVERVISFIR
IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY
W. F. D U RI S 0 E al S ON, Proprietors.
ARTHUR SIMKINS, Editor.
'Two DOLLARS per year, if paid in advance-TWO
DOLLAaS and FiFTY CEsrs if not paid within six
4months-and TnaEE DOLLARS if not paid before the
expiration of the year. All subscriptions not distinet
ly limited at -he time of subscribing, w ill be consider
ed as made for an indefinite period, and will be con
-itsued until all arrearages are paid, or at the option of
the Publisher. Subseriptions from other States must
INVARIABLY be accompanied with the cash or refer
ence to some one known to us.
ADVERTISEMENrs will be conspicuously inserted at
75 cents per Square (12 lines or less) for the first in
sertion, and 371 cents for each subsequent insertion.
When only published Monthly or Quarterly $1 per
4quare will he charged. All Advertisementitnothaving
the desired number of insertions marked on the mar
gin, will be continued until forbid and charged ac
coirdingly.
Those desiring to advertise by the year can dosoon
liberal terms-it lieing distinctly understood that con
tracts for yearly advertising are confinted to theimme
-diat-, legitimate btsiners of the firm or individual
-contracting. Transient Advertisements must be paid
fur in advance.
For announcing a Candidate, Three Dollars, is
ADVA*CE.
For Advertising Estrays Tolled, Two Dollars, to be
aid by the Magistrate advertising.
Law Notice,
M ESSRS. SPANN & MAGRATH,
l in partner-hip, wili pratctice in LA A A.N D
EQLITY. Office opposite the residence of Mr. G.
Addison. One or the other will always be in office.
Jan 3 3m 51
Law Notice,
T IE Undersigned have formed a Partnership.
and will PRACTICE LAW in Edgefiejd, Ab
beville and Lexington.
GEORGE W. LANDRUM,
ABNER PERRIN.
Edgefield C. IT., Sept 21,1854. t! 36
DENTAL SURGERY!
R. ff. PARIK ER, respectfully informs
D the eit.zens of E-lgelield District, that le my
be found during sale day week at the .Planter's Ilo
tel, Edgefield U. EH., and at his residence on the
Anderson road, eighteen miles North-cast of tie
Village, on -every Friday and Saturday folliwing.
Specimens of his work, put up tn the latest and
most improved principles. can be seen at his Office.
His address, wh- n in the couitry, as hereto:ore,
Sleepy Creek, P. 0.
Dec 27 tf 50
Practice of Surgery!
lR.JUK-AH HARRIE. Augusta,
.L Ga., is prepared tosaccomntodate with Liedgimg
and Nursing. such patients as may be directed to
him for-SU llWICA L OPE1RATIONS or Treatment.
ET Masters may be assured that their Servants
will have every necessary attenin.
Augusta, lay 26, 1y 19
FRESH AIR RIVALS.
R. A. G. TEAGUE respectfully informs
his friends iad citizeus uf Eld gelield generally,
that he has just re-eived a LA [WE ADDITION
to his alreayl extensjye'Stock of fresh and genuine
Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals, &c. .
his Drugs are carefully examined by himself, and
:all that are found worthless, rejected ; slnd those
that are approved may be relied on as efficient and.
-of uniform action.
ALL of his Medicinal Compounds, Tinctures,
Pills, Ointments, &c.. &c., are put up under his
-own supervision tnd in strict accordance with the
Uniten States Dispehgstory.
From hislong and extensive experience in the
practice of Medicine, he has made several Com
poundie of his own.not tq-be feund i the lI)ispensn
-tory, viz:-A Preparatioen for the CROUP, which
Le has used extensively fear eighteen veirs. and re
.commtends with confidence ; a V ER MIl'UGE, satfe
and effiient; atnd many othe-r Compoaunels which
he mtakcs extemnporaneously to fulfil the indications
in each particular ease foer which it is used.
It would re quire more space thatn could be ob
tained ini a Newspaper to give a Cataloegue of the
Druigs, Mledicines and Chetnicals ke-pt and sold by
him-sutlice it tee say, he c-an furnish a Phys~cemn's
Office COIPL ETE, with:Physiek and Furniture.
He hasc added to his t'ormer Stock some of the
vnost reliable Vegetaibieextrac~ts, vit: PODOPillL
LIN, STILLINGINE, LEPTANDRIN, &c.
gyT Planters and families catn be suplilied with all
M eedicines necess'ary in a family-and when desired,
<1irectiotts put up with each article.
All of the most reputable NOSTRUSMS may be
found in his Establishment. Also,
Oaadies, Kisses, Sugar Plums and
Sands.
AELSO., FINE W IN ES A ND BR ANDY,
.-for Medicinal purposes.
.Perfumery of his own and Northern make
hard toe heat.
SOAPS.-A large and extensive variety.
CANJDL ES,-Wax, Spe-rit and A damantine.
Paints, Oils and Dye Stuffs,
WINYDOW GLASS, PlUTTY, VARNISHES, &c.
BR USHES.-Mlarking, Sash, Teol, Paint, Grain
ing, Teetth, Nail, Flesh, Crumb, Shoe, llorse and
Tanners Brushes.
P ENCILS-Camel's and Sable Ihair, large size.
A ud last though not least, the finest [IA I R BRIUSTI
ES ever offered in the place, of various patrons
'and qualities.
Dressng iad extrat fine COMBS,
DUS TING BRUS HE S,-A n excellenit article.
PAPER-Fools Cap and Letter Paper, common
and fine.
NOTE PAPER-Various sizes and fancy styles,
ENVELOPES-Common Buff, Plain White and
Fancy. Note Envelopes,.
INK,PENS, PENCILS AND CR AYONS,
Osborne's Anmerican Water Calours.
Guda~ Elastic Balls-Solid, Ilollow and
- Fine,-Parlor Balls fnr the Ladies, inviting them
to exercise within doors, when the weather is
'too ineleiment to be out.
May 18 tf 18
For the Pleters !
h Lbq. Peruvian Guano,
UU50OO too bble. Kettlewell's GUANO
anud SALDTS,
.70 Bblm. Kettlewe.1' CJTEM CA L SA LTS,
30 " Pure grounad F;L ASTER.
The above celebrated Sisour~s for sale by
J. SIBLEY & SON.
Hamburg, Nov 14, i1 44
gr The Laurensville Heralkd, bdcepdent Press
and .Anderson Gazette will copy the above four
eimes, and forward biils to J. S. 4 SON
Saddlery and Harness..
A FiNE assortment to be found, and at low bri
ec;, at ROBINSON& JA CKSON'S.
~Hamburg, Dec 4, tf .47
5e11 Ypulr Cotton and Pay Your
A8 Cotton is ng bringing a good price, I think
Ait is the proper time for till persons indebted to
me, to sell their Cotton and pay up promptly. What
say you gentl'emen ? M'e. W. CLARY.
Crmjv-roN. Nov 2 3m 50
THE RIGHT ARM,
Filly years ago a terrible stornt shook the
the city of London. At the (lead of iight
when the storm was at its highest, an aged
minister, living near the darkest suburbs o1
the city, was aroused by an earnest cry for
help. Looking from his window.Jhe beheld
a rude man clad in -the coarse attire of the
sweeper of the public streets. In a few mo
uments, while the raii came down in torrents,
and tihe storm growled above, that preacher
leaning on the arm of the scavenger treaded
his way to the dark suburb.
That very day, a stranger old man had
fallen speechles, in front of the scavenger's
rude home. The good hearted street sweep.
et had taken him in-laid him on his bed
he had not once spoken-and now h4 was
dying.
This was the story of the rough man.
And now through dark alleys, anong
miserable tenements, that seems to topple
down upon their heads, into the loneliest
and dreariest suburhs of the city they pas.s- I
t;.at white haired minister and his guide.
At last into a narrow court and up stairs
that cracked beneath their tread, and then
into the death-room.
It was in truth .miserable place.
A glimmering light ,tood on a broken
chair. There were the rough walls, there f
the solitary garret window with tihe rain
beating through the rags and straw, which il
stuffed the broken panes-and there, amid a s
heap of cold ashes the small valise, which it
seems the stranger had with him. '
In one corner, on the coarse straw of the A
ragged bed lay the dying man. He was but
half-dressed ; his legs were concealed in d
military bdots.
The aged preacher drew near and looked a
upon him. And he looked-throb-throb
throb-you might hear the death watch tick
kig in the shattered wall. t
It was the form of a strong man grown c
uld with care more than age.
There was a face that you might look r
upon once, and yet wear it in your memory n
forever.
. Let us bend over the bed and look on, b
that face. A bold forehead, seamed by one a
deep wrinkle between the brows-long
locks of dark hair, sprinkled with grey
lips firmly set, yet quivering as though they i
had a lile-separate from the life of the mai
-and then two large eyes, vivid, burning,
unnatural in their steady glare.
Ah, there was something so terrible in i
that face-something so full of unuterable .n
loneliness, -unspeakable despair-that the i
mged ninister started back in horror. s
But look! Those sti ong arms are clutch. t.
ng at the vacant air-the death sweat starts n
in drops upon the cold brow-the m'an is b1
ying.
Throh-throb-throb-beat the death h
watch in the shattered wall. t
1 Would vou die in the faith of the f
Christain !" faltered the preacher, as he knelt
there on the dark floor.
The white lips of the death stricken man r
trembled but made no sound.
Then With the agony of death upon him,
lie rose into a sitting posture. For the first
time, he spoke :
" Christian !" he echoed in that deep tone, v
which thrilled the preacher to the hear',
-will that faith give me hack my honor! a
Come with me,- come n ithm wme far over the ii
water. Habi! we are there !-This is my t<
ative town. Yonder is the church in which
I knelt in childhood-yonder the green on s
which I sported when a boy. But another
1ag that waved whlen I was a child. And I
listen, old man, were 1 to pass along thi,
street, as I passed when but a child, thev
very hahes in their cradles would raise their I
tiny hands and curse me. The graves in i
yonder churchyard would shrinik from my If
footsteps, and yonder flag would sain a bap- .
tism of blood upon my heart !" 1
Tihat w~as an awful death lbed. The min
ister has watched the " last night" with a
hutdred convicts in their cells anad yetner
beheld a scene so terrible as this.I
Suddenly the dying~ man arose. He tot.
tered along the flomor. With those white<
figers, whose nauils are blue with the death.
chill, lie threwv open the valise. He showedc
is military coat, trimmed with silver, an I
ld parchment, a piece of cloth that looked 11
like the wreck of a battle-flag.t
" Look ye, priest, this faded coat is spot-.
ted with my blood !" he cried, as old me'm- I
ores seemed stirring at his heart. " This is
the coat I wore when I first heard the news l
of Lexington ; this coat I wvore, when I lI
planted the banner of the stars on Ticonde
roga !-That bullet hole was pierced in the
ight at Quebeck; now-i am a-let me<
whisper it in your oar!
He hissed that sinigle burning word into
the minister's ear.
" Now help ms, priest," he said in a yoice
grown suddenly tremulous; "help me put on I
this coat of blue and silver. For you see," I
and a ghastly smile come over his face
'there is none to wipe the cold drops from
my brow ; no wife no child-i must meet
death alone ;, but 1 will meet him, as I met
him in battle, without fear!" <
And while he stood arraying his limbs inr
that worm eaten coat of blue and silver,
the good preacher spoke to him of faith in t
Jesus. Yes of that great faith which pierced
the clouds of human guilt, and rolls them
back from the face of God.
"Faith !" echoed the strange man who
stood there, erect, with the deathlight in his
eve. " Faith can it give me back my honori I
L'ok, ye priest, there over the waves, sits
George Washington, telling to his comrades,
the pleasant story of the eight years' war
here in his royal hails sit George of Enig- I
land bewailing itn hi, idiotic voice the toss of
his Colagies. And herram [-I-who was<
the first ,to raise the flag of freedom, the first
to strjiks a blow against that King-here am
I dyingke adog !" *
The awe strickeni preher started back
from the look of the dying man while throb
-throb-throb-beat the death watch in
he hattered wall.
" Hush ! silence along the line there!" he
nuttered in that wild absent tone, as though
speaking to the dead; "silence along the
itnesl Not a word on peril of your-lives.
B-irk you, Monigotmery, we will meet in the
:entre of the town ! We will meet there in
dietory or death! Hist I silence, my men,
lot a whisper as you move up those steep
-ocks! Now on my boys, now on! Men
> the Wilderness, we will gain the town !
Now up wiih the banner of the stars-up
with the flag of freedom, though the night is
lark and the snow falls! Now-now
hrieked the death strieken man, towering
here in the bslue uniform. With his clench.
d hands waiving in the air-" now, now
)ne blow more and Quebec is ours!
And look! His eyes grow glasy. With
hat word on his .lips, he stands there-ah
vhat a hideous picture of despair, erect,
ivid ghas.tly! There for a moment and
hen he CAlls! He is dead !
Ah, look at that proud form, thrown cold
mid stiff upon the damj floor. In that glas.
y eye, there lingers, event yet, horrible ener
y-a sublimity of de:pair.
Who is-this strange man, dyinghere alone
a this rude garret-this tnan, who in all his
imes still treasured up that blue uniform
.iid faded flag?
Who is this being of horrible remnrse?
['his loan whose memories link something
f H eaven and more of bell?
Let us look at that parchment, and that
[;ig.
The aged minister unrolls that faded flag,
was a blue banner, gleaming with thirteen
tars.
lie unrolls that parchment. It is a Col.
nel's commission in the Continental Army,
ddressed to-BENEDICr ARNOLD.
And there in that rude hut, while the
enth watch throbbed like a heart in the
battered wall-there unknown, unwept, in
11 the bitterness of desolation, lay the corps
f the Patriot and Traitor.
0, that our own true Washington had been
iere, to sever that good right arm from the
iprpse, and while the dishonored *body rot.
d into the dust, to bring home that good
ight arm, and embalnm it among the holiest
iemories of the Past.
For that right arm struck many a gallant
low for freedom, yonder at Ticonderoga,
t Quebec, Champlain, and Saratoga-that
rm yondrr, beneath the snow-white mountain,
i the deep silence of the deadirst raiscd in.
light, the banner of the Stars.
It was during the renowned expedition
rough the Wilderness to Quebec, that Ar
old encamped for two or three days beside
ie River of the dead near a snow-white,
ountiain, which arose, in lovely grandeur,
ver alt other mountains, into the autumnal.
ky. A siagle soldier aseended the nioun
tin with the hope of bholdimg from its -um.
t the rocks aid spires of Quebec. When
e came down, Arnold took front his breast,
,here for days in privation, and danger he
ad carried it, a blue hatmner, gleamitig with
irteen stars. He raised it into light and
>r the first time the Continental banner
o;tted over the solitudes of the Dead River.
his is a fact attested by history, and cor
borated by tradition.
A Mississippi Fight.
Can it be possible that this handsome
>okintg man is the far-famed Col Bowie?"
hispered Mr. M -, in my ear.
It is so," I replied ; and before I could
dd muore, Biowie was by us. My friend
troduced us, and soon we were conmversinlg
>gether.
" Ithave rnot seen you for some time,"
aid mny friend, at length.
" I am just returmimng from a trip to thte
Locky Mo.untains," said Bo'wie. " Really,
Ir. M--, I wish 30ou had been along
ith us. We had several fights with the
ndiants, an~d int one of themi I received a
'llet int the arm. Uiafortunately for my
iends the gammblers, it is nearly healed,"
nda terrible look passed over his features.
or party htad a most desperate fightt witht
pairty of lttdians near Coons Hollow
here were twelve to one-but we beat them
At this moment a loud shout caused us
o turn our heads; alnost immtediately the
ry of " A matt stabbed !" reached our ears.
ioon the crow d opened, ad the gambller
amne torth. His hands were covered--with
loud, and in the right htantd he hore a huge
tife, droppintg with blood. Suddenly, he
urned, wipedl his knife ont the coat of a mian,
who stou ttear him, and burst into a loud
augh.
- ahat's all this about?" exclaimed Col,
3. On hearing this, the gambler thrust the
tife inlto its sheath, and approachled us.
" Merely a asian stabbed-that's all," he
aid. " Any of you gentlemen wish to play
ards I"
"I never play cards with strangers," said
lowie.
" Why not?" asked the gambler.
" Because, for all I know to the contrary,
he petson with whom I am playing may be
Sgambiller," was the instant reply.
On hearing this a large -crowd collected
grund us.
" Do you mean'to insult meI"
" Insult you !" said Bowie, surveying the
ther with a lock of contempt-" I insult
10 man, sir."
" Because you are too much of a coward
o do so," said the gambler, sneeringly. " Is
his getntlemnan your friend I"
" A new trienid, sir," replied Bowie.
" Well, insulted him a few minutes ago,"
aid the' rambler.
"Isa this true I" asked B~owie, turning to
vr. M--.
Mr. M--replied in the affirrmative.
"What is your name ?" asked Bowie.
" My name is McMullen," replied the
ambler.
" Ha !' exclaitmed Bowie, with a Iook of
leight; " are you any relation to the duelist
hat slew Jo~e Wingo a year agoI"
" Y s; it was I that slow him," replied the
~ambh r.
A terrible look passed over Bowie's face.
" Ha !" he exclaimted. " Perhiaps you do
ot know that Wingo was rpy cousin."
gambler. "-If u wish, I will serve you
the same way".I
" Perhaps," "-ntinued Bowie, a strange
smile creeping o 0r his features-" perhaps
you do not-know hat I swore to avenge his
death V"
"Then step dt this way, and fight me
like a man,"-safdihe gambler.
"Grant me ote moment," said Bowie:
"perhaps you do ot know that my name
is Col. James irvieI "
On hearingti dreaded name the gam.
bIer staggered babk, and gaizing Bowie va
cintly in tne faces he drew his hand across
his eyes.
",Bowie ! Bow* !" he murmured faintly.
" Aye, James sowie!" returned the other
"Come, come, yau wanted to fight mue two
minutes ago. I now cninly with your re
quest. I am the challenged party, and
therefore, I choose the weapons and place.
Our meeting will4take place here, and our
arms shall be the' M owie-knife."
Have it as yrI wish," said the gambler
as he threw off his coat.
Bowie placed 109 hand behind the back of
iis neck, and drew forth a huge Bowie
kinife. Placing t between his teeth, he
thew off his cot and rolled up his shirt
sleeves.
"I am ready," e said, in a clear, ring.
ing tone.
"So am 1," exclaimed the gambler.
Three cheers fr Bowie were ggen by
the crowd. Bowie smiled, while the gam
bIer bit his lips with rage.
" Make room hdre," said Bowie: " I can't
fight without a clear field. Come, Mr. Mc.
NJ ullen, are you ready 1"
"Yes!" cried the gambler.
Bowie raised his knife high above his
head, and sprang upon him. Both struggled
for an instant, arithen fell to the floor.
They rolled overAe deck, the crowd mak
ing way for them intil they reached the rail.
ing. Suddenly, aistream of. blood flowed
from the ganbler'siright arm, and ie uttered
a cry of pain. Still, however, he did not
release his hold. '.Again they rolled over,
and again Bowie plunged his knife into his
arm. Suddealy each released his hold of
the other, and sprang to his feet. With the
quickness of light9ing the gambler changed
his knife from his right hand to his left, and
sprang towards owie. Bowie met him
half way, and drawing back his arm, he
pluged his knife into his body; the gambler
held up his hands, dropped his knife, and
staggered back. 'Bowie followed him step
by step, still plun 'ig his knife into his bo.
dy. At the ftfth ,.ow the gambler fell dead.
It is over," I id, drawing a long breath.
"Gentlemen," id Bowie, placing his
right foot up)o gambler's breast, and
half extendig Irhis right hand, " this man
insulted me, and I slew him. If any one
wishes to avenge his death, let him step
out."
A MAx WiTHoUT MoNEY.-'-A man with.
out money is a body without life-a walk.
ing shadow-4a spectre that affrights. His
lIok is doleful, his conversation is languid
and heavy. If he wishes to pay a visit, he
never finds any body at home and if he
opens his mouth to speak, he is interrupted
every moment in order that he may not fin
ish the sentence, lest lie should end it by
asking for money. lie is avoided as a pes.
tilence, and is considered a useless clog
upon the earth. If he have wit he cannot
display it, and if he has none he is looked
upon as the most frightful biped that Nature
can create. When in ill humior-his enemies
say Ihe is fit for nothing, and those best in.
dlined towards him preface their eulogy by
a shrug of the shoulders. Necessitiv awaits
tim in the rmornring, and nmisery attends him
to bed at night. The women find he is on.
mannerly and vulgar, arid regard him with
suspicion. Tfr~vernr kespers wish that, like
the chrameleor.:; he would live upon air;
and tailors that, like our first parer.ts, he
would clothe himself with fig leaves. If he
wishes to argue, he is not listened to ; and
if he sneezes, lie is not heard; if he wants
airy thing f roip a tradesmen, he is asked to
pay beforehand, and if in debt, he is consid
ered a rogue.
GOOD ADVICE 'TO READER.-If you
measure thne value of study by the insight
you get into subjects, niot by the powver of
sayinig you have read marty books, you will
soon perceive that no time is so bandly saved
as that which is saved by getting through a
book ini a hurry.
For if to the time you have given you
added a little more, the subject would hav'e
been fixed on your mind and the whole time
profitably employed: wvhereas, supon your
present arrangement, because you would
not give a little more, you have lost all.
Besides, this overlooked by rapid and super
ficial readers-that the way of reading books
with rapidity is to acquire that habit of se
vere attention to what they contain, that
perpetually confines the mind to the single
object it has in view.
When you have read enough to aoquire
thre habit of reading without suffering your
mind to wander, and when .you san bring
to bear upon your subjeet a great share of
previous knowledge, you may then read
with rapidity ; before that aii you have ta
ken the wrong road, the faster you proceed
the more you will be sure to err.--Sidney
Smity. _______
TnzE eminent Dr. Rush maya that the
execise of the organs of the breast in sing.
ing, contributes to defend thorn very much
from those diseaaes to -which the cilmate
and other causes expose them. The Ger
mans are seldom afflicted with consumption,
and spitting of blood is almost unknown
among them-a fact attributed by Dr. Rush,
int partto the strength which their lungs
acquire by exerting thenm so frequently in
vocial music, which eqnstitutes ani essential
branch in their education, from their earliest
years. ________
A mechanic in Cincinnati is wasting his
talents in trying to ponihrnet a flying raa
chine, and thinkcs he can succeed if he can
only raise the wind. There will bee full as
much difficulty, we apprehend, in getting
ho wind to raie him.
From the Detroit Daily Advertiser.
MONEY IS A HARD THIG TO BORROW.
Tus-;-Same as " Jordan."
The times are so " tight," for the cash is hard to get,
Though all hope they'll have some to-morrow;
And every one looks blue, and are in such a fret,
For money is a hard thing to borrow.
So take down your" shingle" and shut up your shop,
For money is a hard thing to borrow.
Yes indeed!
The banker lonks quite brave when you ask him for
the ' chink,"
But he pays out the " ready" with sorrow,
For he cannot stand a " run," and he now begins
to think
That money is a hard thing to borrow.
Let him take down his " shingle" and shut op his
shop,
For money is a hard thing to borrow.
Yes indeed!
Thepoliticians stares, office costs a mighty lump,
And the mouth of his purse is so narrow ;
It ii just Io get some cash that he got upon the stump,
Fiuding money was a hard thing to borrow.
Let him take down his " shingle" and shut up his
shop,
For money is a hard thing to borrow.
Yes indeed!
The merchant is cast down with his loaded shelves
in view.
And no customer buys-to his sorrow;
For soon, from Europe, he will get a billet-due,
And money is a hard thing to borrow.
Lot him take down his " shingle" and shut up his
shop,
For money is a hard thing to borrow.
Yes indeed!
rho whiskey maker sighs, for the drouth has killed
the corn, - +
And ie looks on the prospect with sorrow,
For ho knows his friends won't stick when he has
- not a " horn,"
And money is a hard thing to borrow.
Let him take down his " shingle" and shut up his
shop,
For money is a hard'thing to borrow.
Yes indeed!
But honest men never fear, though there comes a
mighty crash,
And a note should fall due on to-morrow,
Just call on your friends, they will spare a little
cash,
Though money is a hard thing to borrow.
Ycu can keep up your "shingle" and open your
shop,
Thdigh money is a hard thing to borrow.
Yes indeed I
Just His Luck,
Jedekiah Slocum was in love with Jerusba
Simmons. Jedekiah was slightly given to
jealously, and now and then had reason for
it. Listen to him :
One Sunday night I cum hum from mill
after a three days ride, and Jerusha had a
beau, dressed as smart as a dancing master.
My heart jumped into my gullet the very
minute I saw him.
I felt dbwn in the mouth, for I know I was
a gone fellow. He had on broadcloth.
Talk of your new fangled Gossop and Gres
hon houses now, but folks in them days
didn't have but one room down stairs, and
a ladder to go up stairs; a puncheon floor
was good enough below, arid oak shanker
split out by hand, kivered the chamher floor.1
It was so in boss's house, and I slept over
the chamber. I want you to remember, my
tow shirt, and I wvant you to imagine my
feelings that night after I wvent to bed, for
Jerusha atnd the dandy chap had the hull
room below to themselves, with a rousing
bright fire to spark. I couldn't stand the
temptation to want to hear what they had to*
say for themselves. Whisper ! whisper !
whisper
You may laugh at it, but it is the naked
truth I am going to tell. I have laughed
myself at the same thing. When I heard
sonethinig pop like a kiss, by ginger I could
stand my heart thumps no longer. Curiosi
ty and jealousy got the upper haind of me; I
wanted to see for myself, so I slid out of
bed sitting flat like a tailor on the floor, do
termined to hitch up just as I sot, inch at a
time, to the opening over the hearth where
the gun hooks wvas.
A cat couldn't been no stiller arter a
mouse, but my heart thumped louder every
hitch, just as it will wvhen a man goes to do
what ain't right. WVell, jest as I had gain. J
ed the right pint to look over at 'em, just til.
ted the floor-dowvn I wvent, tow shirt, fas
tened to the gun hook-and there I hung,
blindfold, like a squirrel half skinned; right
over mny rival arid sweetheart-ready for
bathing.
I was taken do avn by Jertsala's father, and
next cday morning carpe to the conclusion to
court a fresh gal---i a new looality.-N. Y. I
Dutchman,
H OARDING AND ENJoYIN,-An1 old man
was toiling through the burden and heat of
the day in cultivating his field with his own
hand, and depositing the promising seeds
into the fruitful lap of the yielding earth.
Suddenly there stood before him under the
shade of a huge linden tree, Fa divine vision.
The old man was struck with amazemnent.
" I am Solomon," spokfe the phantom, in
a friendly voice. " What are you doing
here, old man ?"
" If you are Solomon," replied the vener
able laborer, "how can you ask this? In
my youth you sert me to the ant; I saw
its occupation, and learned from that insect
to be industrious and to gather.-What I
then learned I have followed on to this hour.'
" You have only learnied half your lesson,
rsuqnedl the spirit. " Go again to the ant,
nd learrs from that insect to rest jn tlyo win-.
ter of your life, and to enjoy wbiat yop havs
gathered up."_______
" WHAT monsters these ontton factors
pist be," said Mirs. Partington; " I'm told
sme of 'em has more thani a bundred~ hands,a
Mgy poor Paul often wanted me to go and
-e t, hut I' thinkefnl I nevne went"
Miserable Condition of the English
Troops in the Crimea.
The correspondent of the New York Tri.
bune, in a letter dated Jan. 4, at Constanti.
nople, increases the sufferings of the Eng.
lish army to a degree not yet ventured upon
by the Times itself. The Tribune has the
utmost confidence that the report is no ex.
aggeration. The letter says :
No sooner had news of the acceptance of
the four points reached this place than it
was bruted that a peace would positively
ensue. It is also said that a dispatch was
sent to Lord kaglan, stating that an armis
tice might be expected soon, and I have
heard it said that the news was quite a balm
and a cordial to the poor suffering British
soldiers in the ditches before Sebastopol.
Of these sufferings, no one at a distance can
form any correct view. When I tell you
that after the battle of Inkermann there were
but 12,000 fighting men left out of some
30,000; that, although 10,000 men have
been added since then, the number of fight
ing men still continues the same ; that the
British hospital at Scutari at this moment
ontains six thousand invalids, and that some
two thousand men are at Balaklava waiting
:o come down here to die, you may form
some estimate of things. Friends of mine,
>)oth English and American, who have re
:ently visited Sebastippol, tell me that the
niserable condition of the British camp forms
t striking contrast with that of the French.
Lord Raglan is despised, by his own officers
is well as men,. to a degree almost amoun
ing to insubordination. He is an old and
eeble man; his own dwelling in the camp is
L comfortable house, abundantly supplied
ith furniture, and appearing to be the
museum for all the knick-knacks stolen
'rom the Russian country-seats which once
iood on the locality of the camp, but which
as been burned by the freezing men for
'nel. He is never known to visit the troops,
ior to look at the trenches; lie never orders,
)r superintends a review of them; nor is he
ever known to give any order showing an
uiterest in their destitute condition and im.
nense sufferings. When the news of his
flevation to the grade of Field Marshal came
)ut from England, it elicited a universal
roan among all of the British troops, and
ven from the officers, at the reckless and
injust manner in which the Queen's govern
nent had thrown it away upon an incompe
ent, unworthy object. This, however, is in
ct of unjust policy, done with the view of
eeuring for England, in future history, all
be credit of the landing in the Crimea, the
>a!tles of Alma, Balaklava and Inkerman,
ind the .... of Sebastopol. The French
lave long since said that the English were
in incunbrance to them, 'and that it pained
hems thus to behold wretched and suffering
iumanity without possessing the power to
-escue. They freely say that the English
ire brave men, but not soldiers; that they
ire totally destitute of any knowledge of the
idmninistration of an army; and, in.deed, they
ow look upon them as no longer the nation
rvhich they were in the time of Napoleon 1,
The position of the British forces i's the
nore exposed of the two, while their num.
>ers are too few for the task assigned to
hem. There are not enough men to afford
i proper relief to those in the trenches.
rhe soil of the Crimea is a mixture of clay
md lime; there is, however, abundance of
tone in layers, but the soil is soft, and when
vet, becomes extremely miery. This is pe
uliarly the case in the trenches, where the
~round is heavy, and the water alway~ from
moe to three feet deep. Notw'ithstanding
his, they must he occupied to save their
wn lives~and that of their octogetnarian and
emiimnbecile Field- Marshall. Imanginse a
housand men standing a long night its win
er-perhaps under a continuous fall of rain
-jn these ditches, denied the right to sleep,
md required to be ready at a moment's no
lee to rise, rush forward and repel the at.
ack of their never tiring, never-sleepsing foes.
low arduous must be this service, will be
een from ihe fact, that, in the 'face of cer
ain death, these men often fall asleep and
re bayoneted by the sorties, of which you
ow and then read garbled accounts itn the
>pers.
Balsaklava is some six or seven miles
roms the. British camp; the ascent is at
irst steep, but afterward the road is rath
r level, offering 'no other obstacle than the
vant of a good rosadbed. The British
ommander has foreseen nothing, and con-.
equently prepared nsothmng, for winte
'tains have thsoroughly soaked the road, and
endered it~ periectly impracticasble for man
>r beast. Tlhe Comtnissariat is managed
n a manner quite incomprehensible, and
til of the English people here declare that
seversl of its chiefs should be hunig for their
Itter indifference and negligence. Imagsine
he fact that the men in the trenches have
to other food than dry biscuit, raw pork,
ud unburned coffee, and that hundreds of
hem are now in the Seutari hospital-bar
acks here, with feet mortified from long
ud continued exposure to the wet of the
rences.-After weeks of wet, with no
hange, and without the means of drying
heir shoes or boots, the men give up in Ut.
er despair, "from inability any longer to
tand on their feet, and lie down to die, while
heir comrades, in pulling off their soaked
>oots, pull off the toes in them! incredible
is it may appear, I have heard that the large
teamer Jason contains a great number of
oxes full of shoes and boots for these same
nen-that they have been on board for
ome five montns, and that each vsit to
alaklava, the Captain and Purser begged
he English Commissaries to take them, and
~ive them to the suffering men-but they
ill not, because it requires an order from
onme superior authority. -'This, I am assur
d, is the case with many other objects of
~eneral utility to the poor, suffering English
oldiers, than whom braver men never shoul
lered a musket. The French must, and do,'
eel petrfect contempt for the Britisly army.
l'he superior French officers say tihat Louis
miippe was right whemn he made 'Algiers a
chool for their army; and there they have
earned and1 practiced what now renders
horms far., imperioe to tho Englieb
The French, in pity for their suffering
comrades of "perfidjuns Albion," are eigag
ed in making a road for them from. their
camp toward Balaklava, and passing their,
rovisions from the Chersonese port, to the
British depots. There lre materials for
building a railroad from Balaklava to'the
British camp, en route from -England,'but
these cannot be used until the wet hisb'een
succeeded by ice and cold weather. If,
ther), heavy snows set in, God protect3he
English army'! It will be frozen for-want
of covering and fuel, and be daily andinight
ly attacked by the Cossacks.
The Turks here ask, with consternation.
in their countenances, how all this is tl4eid.
The seem to think already that their, own
" days are numbered," and that neither
French, English nor Russians will ever leave
this country again.
How A Nzw Yona DEFAULTER SQUAREs
up.-The New York evening Post narrates
a singular circumstance. A Ceshier of a
Bank not a hundred miles froin Wall street,
found his funds two hundied thousand dol.
lars short at a time, when his accounts were
about to be examined. He consulted-an
attorney friend, who discovered thit he'had
no property available to convert to cash-to
cover the deficit, and advised him to tuike
two hundred thousands dollars more, then,
when the discovety took place, he would
have something to negotiate with the Die.
tors and induce them to refrain from.aspub.
lie expose. The Cashier took the advice,
and the money. The discovery occurredL
he compromised with them for one iundrerd
thousand dollars, and neither the stockhb-l
ders nor the public knew anything of Ihe
matter. Resigning his situation, he lived,
respected by all, on his fortune, the other
$300,000, and died during the current year.
A SHORT SERMON-Owe no man anything.
Keep out of debt, Avoid it as yot would
war, pestilence and famine. Hate it wvithra
perfect hatred. Abhor it with an entireand
absolute abhorence, Dig potatoes, lir
stones, peddle in tinware, do anything. tPt
is honest and useful, rather than runin -debL
As you value comfort, quiet, independente,
keep out of debt. As you value -g4iooddi
gestion, a healthy appetite, a plseid ten *,
a-smooth pillow, pleasant dreams, aiShapjiy
wakings, keep out of debt. Debt is tbip
hardest of all taskmasters, the most crud-9f
all oppressors. It is a millstone about tho'
neck. It is an incubus on the heart.. :t
spreads a cloud over the whole firamamnt
of man's being. It eclipses the sunittbts
out the stars it ditns and defaces the beauf.
ful blue sky. It breaks up the harnony of
nature; and turns lo dissonance all the yt.rsh
of its melody. It furrows the forehead with
premature wrinkles; it plucks the eye of its'
light; it drags 'all nobleness and. kindness
out of. the port and bearing of tian. - It
takes the soul of 1ins langh, and all stateli
ness and freedom from his *ailk. Coaio
not under its accursed dominion.
A plain spoken women recently visited
a married women, and said to her.. " How
do you contrive to amuse yourselt't
"Amuse t" said the other, starting*; "do
you know that l'have my house work to dot
Yes, was the answer, ". I see you h e.it
to do, but as it is never done, I concludi
you must have some other way of passing
your time."
A few days since the editor of the Colum
bia, (Texas) Democrat, found a snake four
feet in length coiled up among the exchanges
on his table.
We never supposed that editors could be
so near the devil, or rather that. the devil
was so closely wvatching editors.
A young gentlemana was one daj arrange
ing music for a young lady to whomi he w~as
paying his addresses. " Pray, Miss D.
said he, " what time do you- prefer t' "O?'
she replied carelessly, " any time will do
but the quicker the~ better."
STEPHEN PLEAsANTON, Eaq., the Fifth "Auf
ditor of the Treasury Department of the
United States, died in New York city, on
Wednisaiay night, after an illness of -teni
days. .He was in the seventy-ninth year of
his age. For more than h'alf a century,.
under twelve administrations, he was in tbe
empilov of the government, and discharged
every official duty with eredit to himself
and benefit of the country.
R ENTs IN WA LL srasE-r, N. Y -The- N~
Y. Evening Post, of yesterday says:
As nmuch as fifty per cent advanee is ask1.
ing for.WalL street rents . the consequence
is, that rnyny offices are to be let. -Tw.
ffices adijoining .Jauncey Court. which let
severally for 82,500 and $3,200 'last year/
are now raised respectively to 65,000 and
66,200, which advance has been refused to
be given. _______
-ANY man or woman may chance to~tnmn
2le into a gutter, but it is only a drunkard
r idiot who makes no effort to. get out of!
t again. _______
ETo WAR BRIDGE BURNT.--We .regret to?.
earni that yesterday,. about noon, the -Eto
alh bridge cauight firef(rom,. a' passing trains
and notwithstanding the emartionas. pnade t'o
save it, was' entirely consumed. We:un-'
drstand that this bridge was the largest an&
ost expensive one on the Road- and its.
:estruction will be a severe loss to the St-atr
and serionsly embarrass the shipment of
freight until it is replaocd by another. The
bridge watchman is seriously censuorsd fdr
eglect of duty in the mnatter, he liv~ng~
been absent fromn his post at the time Tj0o
ridge was'tiiscovered to be on fire.--MAn-t
a lnte!.
AN English sodier writes from the Cri
nea that the sheet of paper forming hisjlet.
er cost him #1,25!
Sfray Wyan Biu&ca, eqs n de.
Jvere a few Weei'o
perdition, and I wouk go ith Ionk
of imps to ,estaimy vote mn it.