University of South Carolina Libraries
' - / % I " I _ ' A REFLEX OF POPILAR EVENTS. 1 Petroled to progress, t!)c Ciigfyts of l!)c Bonify, mrtr tfyt Piffusion of XTseful Unotolcfrge among nil Classes of XUovhing iXVfn. * VOLUME HI. GREENVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 23. 1837. NUMBER 50. \ Cjje ?>nutj)trn enterprise i IS ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY MORNINO, 1 BY PRICE & McJTJNKIN. ' WILLIAM P. PRICE, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. I C . M . M'J U NK1N, ! PRINTER. TERJIS. i On"* Ttoti.A* and Fi?y C raffs in nd vnnce; Two 1 Doclaim if delayed. . CLUBS ?f FlVK find upwards, Onk Dom.ak, ( Its maaey ia every instance to accompany the ^ OVKRTISEMENTSinserted conspicuously nt 1 Alia r? V5 of 75 cents per square of 18 line.* for i the first inurtion, una 37$ cunts for each euhse- , ?u?nt im?e'rt'on* Contracts *"?r y**f'jr advertising made reason mbie. AGENTS. W. XT. WiUCK, Jr., Columbia, K. C. u c .? ! -_ Pint iiocb V r i kikr oin* l/w. 1 , i m|.f A. M. PjiDtx, Fairvicw P. t>-. Greenville J>ist. William C. Uailkt, 1*1 e a"*"* Orovo, Greenville Caft. It. Q. Avmu'it, Li'irc, Spartanburg. jmtfwnmmuhhhnmwv |>fiErtfh ipnr.'rif. Thou Art Growing Old, My Mother. Thou art growing old, tny mother, And thy brow i* marked with care, All furrowed is thine aged check, Once beautiful and fa:r. Thy soft brown looks are sadly changed, 1 Chill frosts have settled there, And touched with many a freezing kiss Thy gently flowing hair. Thou art growing old, my mother, i As I catch the half-drawn sigh, Well I know that years of sorrow Have beditnnied thy inciting eye; But with gentle light it beaiueth, Dcmenlh 011 1110 even yet, "While a love that never change til Till the sun of life is set. Thou art growing old, my mother, Many of your household band Have before thee journeyed onward, To the far off " better land," lly thy voice in tender accents Still .is falling on my ear. Sweetly brightening my pathway. Which without thee were so drear. Thou art growing oIJ, my mother, And around thy youngest born. Shadows gather?dai kly gather? Even in life's early morn. But the blessed Saviour spareth Tltee, to still protect thy child. While the storms of sorrow hover, Hover o'er me dark and wild ! Thou art growing old, my mother, Soon I feel that thou wilt rest Iu iho " laud of the horeafter," In the regions of the blest. Who will love me then, my mother, When the lust lifo cord is riven ? Let us pray that both together God will take us safe to heaven. 51 ^rlrrfrJt ftortj. CALUMET ISLAND. TILE UNFORTUNATE RECOGNITION. What Gibbet street is to the thieves of London, the backwoods of Canadiureto the riffraff population of the entire world?a home. In those vast forests are to he found men from every European country, and j speaking every variety of dialect; men; whoso Bole object is to obtain tbu means j of existence far away from the homes of theii | youth, front places whole they might !>e re j cognized, froin people who might know I something and care to know more of theii j antecedents. There, iu those vast solitudes, spending their days in felling trees and in /brining the huge lugs into rafts which arc j floated down the majestic Ottawa, you nil! i find fallen types of almost every nationality. From England you will sec the big burly ** rough," with his receding forehead, sunken eyes and heavy, massive jaw, side by side with the wan, dissipated-looking merchant's clerk, the warrant for whose apprehension ??r iorgery is oven now preserver in me cicsk of some lawyer or among llie archives of i the delectivo police. There, loo, are black-1 bearded, bright-eyed Frenchmen, ardent da ' voteea of the barricade* and bonnets-rouge, I abort, atout, fair-haired (dermana, friends ot 1 the deceased UuWt Dlum, and subsetil?crx to KreiligraUi's poems ; olive skinned Italian*, whose real history would bo a fortune to the penny - romancer; swarthy Spaniards, whose dislike to return to their nativo country may be accounted for, some on Carlist reasons, others ou account of their partiality to the West India truffle, with a passing allusion to three hundred ncgioes in the hold of a slave ship ; lying Greeks, and even ren egade Turks. In iutense bodily labor, in the bitterest fatigue, these men seek mental ob)i?ion, the forgetfulncas of past crime or 4trea4 of future discovery. There, the knowledge of companionship in misery checks all indiscreet inquiry, and the daily nut* ii? |ieriurmeu, mo resume of life worn < out ami llio grave attained, without tho lift- j i ing of the veil which covers all l>y gone tnis-1 i ilceds with its solemn fold*. J I The little town of Bvtown, even now nris- i 1 L?n to be called the City of Ottawa?and,' 1 front its position as the central medium for j trafiic between the States and Canada, des-,' lined to by soon one of the principal cities j uf the colony?is, perhaps, the only rcoog- \. ni/.ed haunt of men ia which these wild j i tribes aie ever to be seen. 'Ihither, they | i urc compelled occasionally to come ; there i i is the gre?t depot whence they supply theiu-] selves with provisions to last them during I their protracted exile ; there they olfect their 11 engagements with the various large timber und raft owners by whom they are employ-1 i'<i ; and Micro, on liytown wharf, sonic hu?- j ill ! of them wero standing on a bright Ju-1 ly morning. in the year 1830. xvlicn I, being! ;it tlint time engaged in Canada in the civil! service of her Majesty, lounged in amongst | Chcm. The entrance of a stranger into such an I assembly never passes unnoticed ; and as I j moved among the different groups every 1 head was raised, my personal appearance! was scanned by all, and made the subject of! free comment by many of them. 1 waited | for nearly an h??ur, putting my cigar and listening to the loud laughter, the noisy altercation, and the queer jargon of the people ground me, and was aliuost lasping into n buu>?!" day dream iclntivc to their previous and fwlu'C career, when I was aroused by a man who it*\i>eared to hold some superior position among 'hem, and who ordered them at once to prepare id start. The instant I ?et eyes upon tliid man, I recognized hi? feature*, and a painful sensation that we had met before, and under unpleasant circumstances, catnc over me. lie was jrounj. handsome, ami in spite of his rough costume, looked like a gentleman. His hands, too, though tanned by the sun, were wellshaped ; and, as ho pointed towards the river, I noticed jn his little linger a thiu hoop of gold, like the guard-rings of women, which must have been there for some lime, as the flesh seemed to have tightened beneath it. I could not recollect who he was, nor where i had seen him. 1 looked again; and, as 1 stood with open mouth and eyes, gazing at him, he turned sharply round, and our eyes met. But for an instant, though ; for, flushing scarlet, he turned on his heel, and, followed by a body of the lumberers, strode rapidly away. To a person of nervous temperament like myself, such a circumstance was particularly unpleasant. It was plain that the recogni111 in !?i?f tvnon lliij 1 11 ?...?? iii.in mm uiu iihu ween inutunl, and it was equally evident that ho too mtht have had some unpleasant recollection of our former acquaintance, or why should he have hurried away so abruptly ? Who could ho be t I worried myself with the question ail day ; and, when I went to bed at night, turned over incident after incident of my past life, but could connect that face with initio of them. Whero had wc met, and what made the recollection painful ? Could he have hcen at school with me at Lowebnrrc, and, as a monitor, have thrashed, and bullied, and tortured me? No; no ouc did that but Gaudier, And I knew that Gandler was a dry-alter in Cripplcgate. Could be have lieen with me at Bonn, and did we quarrel and go out to Pojqilcsdorf and have it out with short swords? No; Leisten was my only opponent in that way, and lie is dead, poor fellow, llad he stood in my way in love, in business, in pleasuie ? Was he an editor who had refused my con uibutions, a lawyer who had sued ine on a writ, joker and diner-out in society ? lie was none of these. I was up early the next morning, and off on mr journey to Calumet Island, a small settlement of French, Canadians, Americans and Inshinen, some fifty miles further towards the source of the Ottawa. As I proceeded on my monotonous route, mv brain once inore fell to work, trying to solve the mystery of the previous day. Passing through the little village ofClarendon, I was J surprised to find the main street thronged > by the inhabitants all dressed in holiday cos-1 tunic, and 1 found, 011 inquiry, that they were assembling to witness the laying of the fiist log of a new church. Of course I stopped to see tho ceremony, which was per formed by the villago cleigyinan?a fine, i white-haired old man, who invoked a fervent blessing on tho undertaking. I had nol sooner resumed mv journey than suddenly j the whole story of my mysterious acquaint-1 a ice flashed across me. I ?m >?-. ...ift..:. ..' - MMI uvi ouuiti^ur ly versed in metaphysics or the subtler theories of mental pathology to explain how this occurred ; iny belief is that llio sight of ! the clergyman and the gaily dressed villagers re awakened the slumbering reminiscence, and solved the mystery. Three years previously, after a long and dangerous illness, I had been removed to a ' sea-side watering-place in Wales, which I shall call L'lenmouth. Watering place ? It did not, in truth, deserve the name. There i were no parades," esplanades, terraces, eras-! cents, no hotels, all stucco and plate glass,! no boarding houses, all ancient, single lady ; and three-card loo; there was no yachting men, no dreadnoughts and pea-jacacts; 110; telescopes, no mushroom hats, uo yellow slippers, no small wooden spades, no invalid ihaira, no half crown-an-hour-llya, no Ger- d man bands, no goat chaise, no donkeys? * nothing which we recognize as the characteristics of a well-conditioned watering place, h But there was pure air, an open we*, good ft bathing, and?what was most essential to n a person in tnv condition?perfect quiet.? u l'here, in walking, su mming, reading and c writing, 1 passed three very happy weeks, t At the end of this time 1 made the acquaint- s nnce of the clergyman of the parish. With ti biiu, and with his wife and daughter, I was v kk>n on excellent terms, and I should prob- o ably have become more intimate, but that ii the attention of the family was entirely ab- s sorbed in an approaching event?the mar- s riage of the young lady to a Mr. Hugh Kl- Ii vmi, the eon of the principal partner in a n i" i?.. i uvu'iiMi uiiiiKing urn). 1110 \vcoding was t to take place within n fortnight after my I first introduction to them. She was a girl full of animal spirits, and apparently madly o in love with her future husband, whom she f had met the previous season in London I while on a visit to her aunt, and about a whom sho was never tired of talking. The ( wedding day was fixed for Thursday, and o Hugh was coining down on Tuesday night, f and I should be introduced to him, and we v should like each other so much ; after their t mariinge, I should cotue and stay with then) I at the villa, at Richmond, which Hugh's fa- I ther had given them, and so on, and so on, fl until I began to be rather bored by the con- ? slaut repetition of Hugh's npme, and to pre- I conceive a dislike of him. s The long looked for Tuesday night arrlv- t ed. 1 dined at the parsonage, and we sat I anxiously until the last train had come in, I but Mr. Elvyu did not come by it. The < YY ednesduy morning passed, and it was not ,? until late in the afiernoon of that day that c the Elvyns, father and son, arrived at I'lenin'?uth. I walked to the parsonage in the f evening, and was introduced to them, ami ? then learned that their departure from town 1 ? hnd been delayed, owing to the discovery of I some heavy forgeries on the bank, which U lia>l been first communicated to the firm 11 through an anonymous letter, t!;? writer of i which promised, in the event of certain un- ' named events happening, as was believed < they would, to name the forger. My pie- 1 conceived dislike to Mr. Hugh Elvyu was < not done away with by his personal appear- * anco or manner. He was good looking, , certainly?tall, well made, and with fine, < black hair and white teeth. Hut his eyes ' were set very deeply in his head ; he lmd a i shifting, unsettled glance, never looking up t in'o your faco; and his manner, even to- < wards Anne Vaughn, his betrothed, was I nervous and constrained. I Tl.? ..?. - -II .1 i ? - iiiu not uiuriiiii^ an uie imiaouaiKs | i were dressed in their best; the three bolls of 1 the church tried their utmost to make a merry peal; and as the bridal party advanced, young girls strewed flowers in their path. I joined the party at the church door. Mr. Vaughn, who was about to perforin the service himself, hurried before us to put on his robes, and we had just formed in a semicircle round the altar tails, when a tall, thin man, dressed in a tightly buttoned blue frock coat, advanced. 1 recognised him at once as a "plainclothes" member of die metropolitan police, who, the year before, bad been instrumental in regaining some papers which 1 had lost, lie stepped forward, and bowing to the elder Mr. Elvyn, gave him "Good morning." " Hello, Martin !" said the old gentleman, " followed me here! News, already?" " Yes, sir," replied iho man. " If you and the young gent 'II jnst step outsido with me, I've a word to say to you." 44 Wait until the ceremony's over," said' the old gentleman ; but on being urged and ! told it44 wouldn't take a minute," ho passed i his arm through his son's and they went out into tho porch. I followed him closely, and no sooner vv/?r** tvn njoui4 i?f #lw? !.?? * \ f??.?.? ' sail], " Very disagreeable, this, sir, but bu?i-j a ness is business." Then turning to Hugh J a Elvyn, be added, as lie gripped him by the j? elbow, "Sir, you're my prisoner !" \ L never shall forget the abject look of a mingled rage and despair that passed across j t the young man's face as lie henid thesejs words. As for the father be stood perfectly | | aghast, and it was some moments before si ho muttered, " What does Ibis mean ?" " Only this, sir," replied Martin, a "sec- t ond anonymous letter, in the same hand I writing as the first, came to the bank after } you left on Tuesday night, and according to t your instructions, I opened it. It named r Mr. Hugh Elvyn as the forger of the docu- * men Is, and the writer gave an address where t further proof could be found. I went there l at once and saw the writer of the letter, |l heard certain evidence, and took the parly ! c to Bow street. U|K>n what she stated, upon ! c her oath, the magistrate issued a warrant, 1 which I've got in my pocket now." j i " Kho !" exclaimed the father. "Was it t a woman, then ?', t 44 It was, air," responded Martin, briefly, r 44 Ellen Monroe by name." I The young man groaned, and clasped his t hands across his face. 44 Tell me, what did ? she say I" r 44 About you, air," replied Martin, careful- t ly blinking the evidence. 44 She says, Iiugli t Klryn," says the, 44 has ruined ine?-now I'll ? o tho saiue by him." Those were her < fords. < By this time the rest of the company cam? < listening from tiie cliuroh to tell us that < Ir. Vaughn w as wailing for the bridegroom, i nd laughingly to reproach him for one inolenl's nbsc-nce on such an occasion. Of ourse the dreadful news had to bo told to ( hem ; and it was needless to describe the | cene that followed. One only person re- t fiined the smallest self possession, and that t ihs Anno Vaughn. She made no hoister- < u* declarations of her belief in liar lover's i imocence?no melodramatic ranting or l wooning, but, after the first shock was over ) lie walked up to his side,- aad, placing her 1 land in his, said? ' Hugh, 1 know you are s iOt guilty of this wickedness, and I know 1 hat you will be proved innocent. We will iide our time." i The catastrophe was, of course, the fnale f my visit to Pienmouth. As soon as I mmd that I could be no use to tbe Vaughns, . returned to London, and, six weeks ifterwards," was in the Central Criminal /ourt, when Hugh Klvvn was found guilty if forgery, and sentenced to transportation or life. The principal witness against him vas a young woman who, after having been he repository of all his secrets, was deserted ?v him and left to starve. Of the Vaughns could learn nothing, beyond that, immediitely after the trial, Mr. Vaughn had exchanged livings with a clergyman in the farthest laVt of Laneansliire, and that Anne was .apposed, by the Pienmouth doctor, to be in i rapid decline. This man then on Bytown wharf, this uinbercr, this mysterious personage, the re , :ognition of whose identity had so perploxjd inc, was Hugh Eivyn ! He must have scaped from the place of his banishment, ind found a home among hundreds of others similarly circumstanced. As the notion pew upon me, all the old recollections iame flowing through my mind. I saw the itlle fishing town and the market redolent if shrimps and herrings ; the jolly little aleiouso where I lodged, with its sanded floor, ind those perpetual choruses on Saturday lights. I saw the worni-eat<n, sea-besoak ietlv t the Inure. Iiard-drinlnn<v 1>oi-?1. landed, soft-hearted fishermen ; the church, villi its worn, giey tower, ils \v00d2u tomb-1 tones and quaint epitaphs; the parsonage, vith its smiling garden, the delicious smell >f (lowers always hanging around its porch, uid its simple minded, hospitalde owner. 1 bought of Anno, and?but that is 110 mater ! In tho calm reflection of after years, I >ften fancy that I had other causes of disiko to Hugh Elvyn beyond those I have tore mentioned. Revolving all these maters in my mind, I arrived at Calumet Isand and walked into the public room of he hotel. At the further end of the apartlieiit was a large counter or bar, at which ieveral people were drinking; among them, tnd recognizable at onece by bis height and nanner, was Hugh Elvyn. I had scarcely :et foot in the room when he saw me; our ?yes met, and hastily Kissing ofl" his lienor, lie hurried out through a door opposite to hat by which I had entered. I was now convinced of the accuracy of ny conjecture, and of Elvyn's determination o avoid mo; but I determined not to be lafllcd at my attempts to learn something noreofhis history. I accordingly mixed villi tho lumbcrt-rs still surrounding the bar, ind endeavored to draw them into conversaion. In this attempt I am bound to say I ignally failed ; so far, at least, as my object vas concerned. They talked freely of the veatiier, of the prospects of the ice breaking ip, and that of grand topic in which all Iwellers in Canada are interested, tho an- j luxation question ; but of themselves, or of heir recent companion, whose name I casuilly mentioned, they would say nothing. Ane by olio they dropped out of the room. \t last I drew a table to the window, pulled >ui my travelling case ntut commences I writ- I ng a business dispatch. I had been at work i ibonl half an hour, when a shadow filling toross the paper caused me to raise my head, i rnd, looking up, I saw an Indian sijuaw, vho, after glancing cautiously around, threw i i letter upon the table, pressed her finger j ipon her lip, and retired as mysteriously as ho had arrived. Immediately on her denature I took up the letter, broke the seal ma read as follows : " I thought I had escaped pursuit, and hat I might linger out the remainder of my ifo alone, unsuspected and unknown.? iVhen, having eluded the vigilance of those o whom my crimes have consigned me, I nanaged, after enduring the greatest hardhips, to reach these solitudes, I fancied that he over hanging sword of the avenging an* rel had at length been turned aside, and that might bo allowed to die without ever encountering a face which I had seen before, r hearing a name which I had borne in mppier times. It seems, however, that this s not to he, and that you have discovered ny retreat. I saw you yesterday on lly own wharf; to-night I find you have traced ne further. What your intentions may he know not. You have come, perhaps, to leliver me into the hands of the law, from vhicb I have escaped ; perhaps some better nolive prompts your pursuit. All is, how- j iver, useless ; no amount of toil, hunger, or 1 niscry (and lleaven knows I have endured j ill these) would appal ne, but I could not nduro once more to be pointed at as a fel>n, or even to be seen or spoken to by any >ne who had known me ui my former conlilion. On this aide of the grave, at leai?t, I ivili be free from interference, or reproach. H. E." That night I retired to be more disturbed ;hnn ever, and only determined upon one >oint, that i would pursue tnv investigaions no further. I could be of no assistance ,o this unhappy man, and no more verbal lonsolulion would have been of any bonefit to him ; my best plan was to try to forget ,he events of the last two days, and never to ?llow F.lvyu's name or history to pass my ,ip?. Alter a seemingly never-ending night spent in feverish to**ings and tumblings, with occasional snatches of perturbed sleep, I rose with the first glimmer of daylight, und hurried out into the fresh morning air. j On issuing from the door of the inn, my attention was attracted by a group of people on the river bank, who were gathered round some dark object which had, apparently, been landed from an Indian canoe lying near. As I approached the group divided, and there, in the centre of it, dark and dripping, discolored and contused by the snags against which in the rapid How of the riv^i, it had tossed, and with a small punctured wound in the chest, round which the blood had clogged, lay the body of Hugh ""J"* . . Ilorror-stricken, 1 inquired of the bystanders, and wns soon made acquainted with all they had to tell. A young Indian attached to one of the lumbering parties had for some lime suspected tlie existence of an intrigue between his wife and Elvyn, on the previous evening lie had seen them continually together, had tracked her to the inn whither she had been sent with my lotter, and theu had been heard to vow vengeance against her betrayer. Lato that night, Elvyn was perceived in a half-intoxicated state, making his way towards the shanty, at the edge of the river; he was never seen alive again. Tho Indian had decamped, and so far as I know, was never captured. My business was urgent, and I could stay no longer. Wearied and dispirited I returned to the inn, and in a few minutes bade adieu for ever?to Calumet lalaud. JHiatriiontous limiting. False Education. The early breaking down in'o invalidism of the American women is the subject of frequent remark. Our young maidens are, as a class, beautiful hut delicate, and hardly do hosts of them get out of their teens before they become more or less tho victims of disease. Several of our contemporaries, wo perceive, are calling attention to one cause of this evil, viz: The overworking of girls at school. Where tho blame of this is to be laid we are not prepared to say. We doubt, however, whether it is all to be put at the doors of teachers, for we have hoard many of them lament it, especially those Slaving charge of public schools. The docil-' ity, love of approbation and emulation, quite characteristic of the sex, takrn in connection with the early age at which they are seated at the desk, and the early age at which they arc called from their studies, tnay account for much of the error. Not only the xcqui silion of the common branches of education, but likewise the acquisition of accomplishment, is crowded into a few years : and this, too, with a premature entrance, oftentimes, mio mo excitements ol society. Natural consequences of this are headaches, crooked spines, disordered nerves, weak eyes, debility, chronic complaints, that occasion more mischief, moral as well as physical, than many may imagine. What must follow where the wife and mother is the victim of ill-health, can be easily imagined. And how many instances are there of this illhealth traceable to the grievous mistakes of parental vanity or thoughtlessness, in subjecting mere children to the inevitable dele terious effects of overtasking the brain, keeping to sedentary pursuits, involving confinement, unnatural positions, unrelieved by vigorous open air exercise ? This is not a subject on which it is our province?were we competent?to speak in detail. But it is a subject which demands very serious consideration. It concers the prosperity and happiness of thousands. It concerns the comfort and joy of numberless homes. It concerns the cause of humanity ; inasmuch as the abuses alluded to threaten to bring on, in some respects, an alarming degeneracy in posterity?and that posterity only a generation or two behind us. The hosts of physicians, the statistics of the death of infants, daily occurring facts within the observation of fil'firv nn? lire .ill r>f a great wrong, which threatens to produce bitter fruits, to disappoint many of the hopes of a progressive and prosperoua civilization. [Iiotlon Courier, ? McCartt, of tho Bardstown (Ky.) Gazette, says that any good-looking young lady can get him by applying soon, provided that she can support hiin in the style to which he has been accustomed?three meals a day, a plug of tobacco per week, and a clean shirt on Sunday. We hope they won't all apeak at once, it might embarraa* the young uran. 1 The Posterity oi Cain. Cain's settlement, after the curse set upon him by the Lord, was in the "land of Nod, on the east of Eden." If Eden represents the whole district between the Indus and tho Nile, then this must have been in the wild, mountainous regions of Northern India and Western Tartary. Tho exact country our geography cannot define. Tho pecullaiitiea have cliarseteiized the inhabitants of that region in every age. It has been a "land of Nod," that is " waudering, unsettled." as to a largo sluiro of its population ; and yet it h;i8 been, strange to say, a land remarkable for the magnitude, grnudeur, wealth, manufactures, learning and commerce of if* crisis?just as the early cultivation of the arts by the descendants of Cain might suggest. Nowhere efse in the world lists been seen the mingling of such contrarieties And of such extremes. And to this day it is a wonder. The traveller with peril penetrates to the centres of these wild and grand landscapes, where even Nature collects the highest mountains anil deepest chasms in the world?the most savage sterility, and gardens of the very primeval Paradisaic fruits. Hut when ho does so, he is amazed l?y the fortifications, the palaces, the, libraries, the foundries, the bazaars, the tornples. lie meets there with men who seonj the genuine offspring of Cain ; prodigies of lenrning, that wander ovor the continent like vagabonds ; speaking many languages, poets philosophers, yet murderers and thieves ; claiming descent from Israel, or from Alexander the Great, yet lying, abject, knavish beggars; peddling in the same hour, diamonds, pills, manuscripts, garments, pearls, antiquarian relics, musk, shawls, or cutlery, which they have carried immense distances, but with distrust of every one, they keep concealed till opportunity for their disposal presents itself; the noutcst, basest, utthappiest of mankind. The temper and the bane of the first murderer's family remain with them, after all the changes of six thousand years, till this day.? Oriental. Mas. Grs. Ukkxino^kn.?Some of the New York pi ess having questioned the authenticity of the iato Nicaragua news, published in the Herald, Mrs. llenning>en has written a letter to the editor of that paper, in which she asserts all the extracts published in its columns to be genuine, and that they were furnished bv her froin letters recoived from her husband by tlio steamship Texas, She is of opinion that letters in relation to pother victory won by Walker, were mailed to her at the snir.e time, which were intercepted by those opposed to the success of the Nicaragua!! cause. She furthermore declares that her letters were detained in New York?two days af ter the arrival or the Texas?and would not have then heen forthcoming but for an article in the lleiald, charging certain interested purlieu with the design to withhold the letters and papers brought by the Texas. Mrs. llcttuiugsen is a native of Georgia, I and has all the spit it and intellect necessary to defend the reputati in of her husband and his frietuls during his ah-ence. [Savannah Georgian. 44 A Jew Bkokkii " writes to tho Journal of Commerce that " large quantities of diamonds nre brought into the United States by private families who visit Europe, and are afterwards obliged to sell them, in this manner at least $200,000 to $300,000 worth are annually thrown into the inaiket; and I have, at the present time, upwards of ?30.000 worth of diamonds for sale?the whole of which have been placed in mv hands bv private parties, who originally bought them for their own use." All of which moans that "our first societv," on returning from Europe, are apt to find themselves a trifle slioit, and are consequently obliged to spare a few extravagant purchases made iu Par's. 1 diamonds are always good property, and though an investment in them brings no interest, they arc sure to briug their original cost. !<!? ? A i.adv introduces her subject to a Boston editor by staling, that 44 having a good constitution, she can bear a good ileal of happiness!" She proceeds to declare that i.?. -r i i* ? .. . ..t. itirii m |ianm uiihs is, " h last norsc in a sleigh, plenty of buffalo robes, and a neatfitting overcoat, with a handsome man in it." And she adds, " if that is not happiness, I'm open to conviction as to what it is A Wkhtkrn editor once apologized to his readers somewhat ntW this fashion : " We intended to have a death and a marriage to publish this week, but a violent storm prevented tho wedding, and the doctor being taken sick himself, the patient recovered, and wo are accordingly cheated out of both." ? - ? ? An absent wife is hero called upon to return to "bod pnd board." "Jane?your absence will ruin all. Think of your husband?your parent?your children. Return ?return?all may be well?happy. At any rate enclose the key of the cupboard where the gin is." With four metallic qualifications, a man mav be pretty sure of sin-cess. These rto gold in his pickets, silver on bis tor guv brass in his face aud iron in bis heart.