Jeffersonian., July 12, 1845, Image 1

About Jeffersonian. (Kosciusko, Miss.) 1844-1845

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"The powers not delegated to the United States by the Cimniitutiim, nor prohibited by tin State, are reserved to the
' States respectively, or to the people." Constitution of the United inates.
EDITOR & PROI'RIET OR
VOLUME .
Ji,MChV, MMStSS Ifl'f, S.MTfMKIV, JFJiV 13, 18 15.
.Yl illllVIl 8 ft
BT RICHARD J it OS,
TERMS
THE JEFFERSON M.I A
is published every Saturday, at Three Do
Jars perannum, invariably in advance.
Idvertysements will be inserted at the
folowiog rates, to wit: For every ten lines
or Jess, first insertion, one dollar; and for
each subsequent insertion, fifty cents, pay
jle in advance, or upon first insertion.
Standin? advertisements, every ten lines
or less, will be inserted as follows :
Three months $5 00
Six months 8 00
One year 15 00
Advertisements r.ot marked with the
number of insertions, will be continued un
til forbid, an; -narged accordingly.
Announi.ng candidates for otlice, for
Couny, nve dollars, for State any District,
ten dollars, payable invariably in advance.
Letters on business with the office; fo en
sure attention, must be post paid or Tee.
itfoney may be sent by mail at our risk,
if a receipt is first taken from the post
master. Job Work must be paid for on delivery.
A GOOD OFFER.
To any person who will procure for n
Rui. nnv subscribers and forward the cash
free of postage, shall be entitled to one
copy of the Jell'cresonian for one year gratis
Agents:
Robikt Hiout, Louisville, Mi.
Geo. W. Haiilow, Koscius ko, Mi.
Wit. A. Keith, Carthage, Mi,
BiTUtLL Hainkb, Clinton, La.
RE LIGION-WH AT IS IT!
Tis not to go church to-day,
To look devout and seem to pray,
And ere to-morrow's sun goes down,
Be dealing scj,xdl through the town.
Not every sanctimonius face
Denotes the certain reign of grace;
A phiz that seems to scowl at sin
Oft veils HrrocBici within.
'Tis not to mark our duty's walk
Or of our own good deeds to talk,
And to practice secret crime,
And so mispend and waste our time.
Tis not for sects and creeds to fight,
And call tbeir zeal the rule of right,
When all their wish is, at the best,
To see tiimr cucbcii exceed the rest.
'Tis not to wear the Christain'i dress,
And love to al mankind profess:
Then treat with scorn the suffering poor
And fast against them close the door.
'h, no! Religion means not this,
Its fruit far sweeter, fairer is;
In havenly soil a'oneit thrives,
And more than blossoms where it lives.
Religion! 'tis the ru'e of life,
The bond of love, the death of strife,
Its precepts this: to others d&
As you would have thenvdo to tou.
It grieves to hear an ill report,
And scorns with human woes to sport,
Of other's deeds it speaks so ill,
But tel s of good, or else is still.
And does Religion this impart!
Oh, may our sou s its influence court!
Haste, haste the bright, the blissful day.
When the whole earth shall own its
sway.
From the Portland Tribune.
THE OLD in hi; u .
BY C. D. COLESWORTI1Y.
CHAHTER I.
Where'er a single human breast
It crushed by pain and grief,
There I would ever be a guest,
And sweetly give relief.
As we were passing down Exchange
street, several years ago, we stopped in
front of in auction room, to examine the
various articles whfch were to be sold
under the hamater. We had been there
a few moments when we heard a female
yoice enquiring. 'Is this old bureau to
t . l I i- .1n.?f Cn Innkinrr nn tira
DO SOW Wl-uaj -6 )' "v
perceived that the question had been put
f. ... k a vnnnrr lndv. whose nleasatll
io ui i7 6 ' , '
I... ..! nminlonanno KtrUCK US At OIH'e.
OUl HU V"U"
We replied that all the articles on the
side walk would be disposed of to the
highest bidder.
1 should like this burea, if it goes
low enongh,' she said, pointing to on
old fashioned article that was standing
tmonir the other furniture, but I never
bought any thing at auction in my life,
and as 1 see no woman here, I don t
know us it would be proper for me to
bid.'
U would bo perfectly proper, we re
marked, 'but if you wish it I will bid
off ilie bureau.'
'If you will sir, 1 shall be greatly
obliged to you.'
'llow high are you willing- I should
go?'
'I don't know. exactly, how much it
is worth : but if it sells for three or four
dollars you may buy it.'
.Shall 1 speak to a hendcartman to
leave it at your house?'
'No, Kir; I will call at noon and set
tle for it, and have it taken away, leaving
us to wonder who she was' nd of what
use the old piece of furniture could be
to her. We examined it took out the
drawers but saw nothing remarkable
about it. At eleve i o'clock, when the
auction commenced, wc were present,
and after wailing nearly an hour the auc
tioneer remarked, 'we will now sell the
bureau. What will you give, gen'Ie
men?' One man offered two dol
lars, ano'.her three, and wc bid half a
dollar more. Four dollars were bid
lour and a half, and five dollars. We
were astonished that the oid thing should
bring so high a price. What could we
do? See it sold and disappo nt ;he lady?
The thought struck us that it might have
beLned to some friend, am! she wished
to purcliesti it on that account, and rath
er Wian disappoint her we resolved t j
bid again. Six dollars were offered bv
another, to our utter astonishment ; but
when our hand is in, and we wish for
an article we seldom let ano'her outbid
us, and so we offered, until the old bu
reau run up to ten dollars and we pur
chased it for a half a dollar more. Cer
tainly we would not have given but four
for st, to use ourscli. However, we
bought it, and had it sent to our room,
telling the auctioneer, if a lady should
call lor it, to inform her where it may
be found.. Wc examined it again and
again, and began to regret our purchase,
feeling almost certain that the young
lady would not thank us for what we
had done ; but we never mourn over a
bad bargiin. Our philosophy vi21 not
permit us to do so.
A little after dusk as we were sitting
at our sanctum, the young lady came in
with an apology for intruding and re
in irked. 'You bought the bureau so
the auctioneer told uic,.'
'Yes, 1 bought it, but at an extrava
gant price, 1 assure you.'
'What did you give?'
Ten dollars and a Inlf.'
'V on astonish me. What can I do?
I had no idea that it would brin-,' over
three or four dollars, and am not pre
pared to pay for it to night.'
'I suppose it was foolish in me to
give so much for it, but I presumed
you wanted it i cry much.
'I did sir, and would not value paying
double the amount of the bureau, if I
were able, rather ban not have it.'
So 1 apprehended, Perlups it may
have belonged to some friend of yours?'
Yes, si', that bureau was once my
mother's ; and I noticed a t?ar come in
her eye, which she endeavored to con
ceal but she is dead now, and 1 wish
to keep it in remembrance of her.'
Thinking the lady might be poor, we
told her she might take the bureau that
night, if she wished, and pay us for it
when she found it convenient.
'I am greatly obliged to you for your
kindness ; but would rather you should
keep it until it is paid for.'
We urged her lo lak it, but she re
fused, say mg, '1 will see what I can do,
and call in a day or two and see you.'
and bidding us'good evening, she left
us.
There is something very mysterious
about this woman thought we. It may
be that she is very poor and perhaps in
very destitute circumstances. But she
shows an excellent heart, and ihe warm
est attachment to a deceased mother.
Her education must have been good, and
she has evidently seen better days. And
we thought the next time she called op
on us, we would ascertain something of
her cearacter and circumstances per
haps her name which wo felt deeply
anxious to learn.
In a day or two the young lady called
upon us again, and with tears in her
eyes, remarked 'I don't know what
you will think of me. but all the money
I have in the world are five dollar., this
I have brought you towards the bureau
you were so kind as to purchase for me.'
So saying she placed the money before
us in silver.
'I shall not lake this money at pres
ent,' we rematket. 'I can do without
it. You may take the bureau if you
want it, and when you are able at some
future lime, you may pay for it.'
She expressed a great deal of grati
tude, and raid, '1 haii rather you would
t.ike what I have,' and nothing we could
say would induce her lo take her mon
ey anain.
'You appear to have seen affl ction?'
we remarked, as we saw tears in her
eyes.'
'Not much, sir. I must confess that
I have not always been as poor as I air.
at present; for I have seen better days,
When my parents were living I never
knew what it was to want for any thing;
now I cannot say so.'
'How long have vour parents been
dead?'
'About six years sinccmy father dird;
and it was four years aro last Saturday
when my mother was buried.'
'At the mention of her mother's name
the tears came f st to her eye ; a tender
chord was touched ; we saw it and made
no more inquiries ; when she took her
leave.
It was nearly six weeks before we
seen the young lady again. She then
called on ns with tin remainder of the
money wc had paid for the bureau.
We protested against receiving it at
the time, thinking I tat it might have
been inconvenient fr her to pay it, but
she insisted that we fhonld have it, say
ing, 'I am under great obligations to you
for your kindness. Had it not been for
you I ahould have lost the bureau; the
only relic of my mother ; for it was im
possible for me to raise the amount you
so generously paid. I shall never forget
your kindness-
Doyou wish to take the bureau a
way V
'I have spoken to a cartman, who
will call here in a shcrt time and have it
removed out of the way ; for I suppose
yon will be glad lo get rid of it.'
Not at all. I nm pleased that I was
instrumental of a little service to you,
rnd if ever you rued assistance, 1 shall
always be as ready to render it.'
I thank yuu sir with all my heart.'
At this moment the man came for the
bureau, and bidding us good evening the
lady left our room
CHAPTER II.
I ask a lowly cot
With sweet content within,
Where envy shall molest me not,
Nor pride shall tempt to sin.
'Going, going ; will you give but two
do!. r for ibis nice bureau, exclaimed
Mr. Bailey, the auctioneer, a ytar or
two smceas we were passing down ex
change street, 'Mr. C he said turning
to us, buy this bureau, it is cheap e
noutili, it is worth more for kindling
wi ol than it isiroing for; just look at it;
50 ng, going; speak quick or you loose
it.
.Two dollars and fifty cents,' we bid,
as wo saw it was the same bureau that
we had bought several years before for
ten dollars and a half, ami the bureau
was knocked off to us
This is singular enoush. thought we.
m - - - - p, C3 HI
as we had the article carried to our room.
Where is the young woman who former
ly owned it? Who was she?
j . . . .11
We made several inquiries, out couiu
net ascertain who she was or what had
become of her. The bureau had been
carried lo the auction room by an indi
tiilnal whom Mr. Daily never saw be
fore and all our enquiries to ascertain
what became 01 the young lady, seemed
fruitless.
Several months passed by, and still
ve heard nothing of the young lady,
when one day, not knowing but we
might get some clue to the former own
er, we took out all ihe drawers separate
ly, and examined them. We saw no
writing whatever. In the back of the
under draw, we noticed that a small
piece of pine had been inserted. It
looked ns if it had been done to stop de
feet. Prying it with a knife it came out,
when lo our astonishment, we found sev
eral gold pieces to the value of about fif
ty dollars, besides a nnle for twenty-five
hundred dollars with interest, value re
ceived, made payable to Sarah R ,
when she should become of age; it was
a witnessed note, and had been running
about ten years, signed by a very weal
thv m. whose reputation for honesty
was not exceedingly good. Without!
mentiomng to a single individual what
we had discovered, we immediately re
newed our efforts to ascertain who Sa-
rah R was and where she was to
be found. We learned that a girl of
his name once lived with Oapt. P ,
and t,id the work of the kitchen. Of
him we could obtain but lilllc informa
tion. His wife recollected the girl and
1 poke of her in the highest lerms. She
believed the Jiml mam.l a mitrhnnic ""! j I)mv justice done hei ami b instru
retirrd from the city, but his name she 1 mental of adding to the happiness of
could not recollect. By repeated tnqtii- j those we considered so worthy as her
rie5 we ascertained that Sarah with her ' self and husband.
huband lived on a small farm on the j When we left we promised to call 01
rotd that leads to Saco. Taking an ; her soon again, and in the mean time to
1 .1 1 1. .
enriy opportunity, we siarieu lor uie res-
iCcnce ol me young woman. Alter 1
several inquiries on the road, we were
directed to the house. It was a pleasant
situation, a little from the road, while
every thing looked neat about the dwel
ling. As we drove up lo the cottage,
who should come to the door but the ve-
ry woman we had been so anxious to
find. She recognized ,s at once.
Why, Mr. C , how glad 1 am to
see you.' Where in the world did you
come from? Walk in and take a seat.'
Her htifband was present an intelli-!
Sent looking man to whom she present-
ed me.
I have often thought of yon, she re-1
marked, and when in Portland have
been tempted to call and see you ; but
although I have not called, be assured I
have not forgotten your kindness, and I
never shall forget it.
'But you seem happier than when I
last saw you.'
'Be assured sir, I am. My husbaud
has hired this little farm, where we have
resided for the last two years, and we
make a comfortable living, and are as
happy as we could wish. In the course
of a few years if we have our health,
and prosper, we are in hopes to be able
to purchase the farm.'
'What does the owner value it at?'
'He values it at about fifteen hundred
dollars.,
VV e have had to purchase a great many
farming things, or we should have made
a payment towards it.'
'But what has become of your bu
reau?'. 'I fear I shall never see it again,' she
remarked, and after a pause, said, 'I be
lieve I have never told you how I have
been situated?
'You never did.'
'When my mother died, it was
thouiht she left some nronerty in the
o
hands of an uncle of mine, ihut would
come to me when I become of age; but
he said it was not the case. With him
I restded a short time.'
'Was your uncle's name Mr. ,'
said we, mentii tiing the individual who
had signeed the note in our possession.
"Yes sir; that was his name, lie was
verv unkind lo me: made tr.e work so
hard, and was so cross that I was obliged
to leave him, and earn my living by do
ing the work of a kitchen girl. One
day I learned that he was about lo dis
pose of what property my mother left,
to pay an old debt of hers. As soon as
I found it was correct, I immediately
went to the auction and found it true.
You know about the bureau; the only
article of my mother's properly 1 could
purchase; and had it not been for your
kindness, that would have gone with ihe
the rest. The money I paid you was
earned in the kitchen. As I found it
inconvenient to carry the bureau with
me, being obliged lo change my place.
I asked aunt's permission to put it in her
garret, which permission she granted
On calling for it, when I was married,
I learned that uncle had dispof ed of it
with some other things at auction. I
would rather have lost a hundred dollars;
not that the piece of furniture possessed
any real value, but it belonged to my be
loved mother; (a tear came to ihe poor
woman's eye.) and on that account I
did not wish to part with it. But it was
gone, and it was useless to speak to un
cle abont it; he was entirely indifferntto
me and what concerned me."
"Suppose I shall tell you that I have
the bureau in my office?"
"Is it possible?" Yon astonish me,
Mr. , have you indeed the old
curcau?''
"I have, and what is better I "have
something for you here, taking out the
gold and note and placing them upon
the table, these are yons."
"Why, sir, you more and more as
tonish me."
"They are yours. After I became
owner of the bureau, I found the gold
and this note, concealed in one of the
drawers. There are nearly fifty dollars
and the note is good against your uncle,
for nearly three thousaud dollars; 'every
cent of which you can recover."
The astonished lady could not speak
for some moments; but when she reeov
ercd from her surprise, she could only
express her gratitude in tears; nay -nore,
she offered us half the amount, but we
merely told her, that it pleased us mora
mane arrangements lor ner to recieve
her just dues from her unworthy un-
i cte.
The old man demurred a little at first
but when he found he could wrong her
no longer, he paid the note with interest;
begging us not to expose him.
Sara'hs husband purchased the farm
on which he resided, stocked it well
land is now an independent farmer.
I Two happier souls it is difficult to find
; than Surah and her husband. May
i prosperity attend them to the close of
life. We often call at the farm house
j of our friends and spend '.here many a
!nilPPJ' hour. It was but a week or two
since that we saw them, and they seem'
ed as cheerful and contented as it is 110s-
ill . .
tute lor mortal to be.
REV- ROBERT HALL.
The following anecdote are relatedof the
late Rev. Robert Hall:
"He had one day attended a church,
where a young minister preached on
some public occasion. It so happened
that the preacher met Mr. Hall after
wards, at dinner, at the house of a mu
tual friend. The young man was very
anxious to hear Mr. Hall's opinion of
his discourse, and very pertinaciously
phed the great man wiih questions re,
epectir.g it. Hall endured the annoy
ance, for some time, with great patience
He did not want to hurt the young man's
feeling; but he could not conscientious
ly, iaud his sermon. At length, worried
beyund endurance, he said
"Well, sir, there was one fine passage
and 1 liked it much, sir much."
"The young divine rubbed his hands,
in high glee, and pressed Mr. Hall to
name it.
"Why, sir replied Hall, the the pas
sage I alluded to was your pasivge
yytfm tfie pulpit to the vestry .'"
A young lady sent her album to him.
and he returned it with the following,
written upon one of its leaves:
"It is my h imble opinion that albums
are very foolish things.
Robert Hall."
"His marriage was a singular one.
One day, whilst alighting at a friend'e
door, for the purpose of dining with him
he was joked on his batchelorhood.
He said nothing; but whilst at table wae
observed to take particular notice of the
servent girl who came in to replenish
the fire. After dinner he went into the
garden, sent for the young woman, and
asked her lo marry him. In her aston
ishment she ran away and said she be
lieved Mr. Hall had gone mad again
(he had been once deranged.) Her mas
ter, like herself, was surprised; and on
his speaking with Mr. Hall on the sub
ject, the latter declared his intention of
marrying the girl, who, had taken his
fancy by the manner in which she put
the coals on. They were married and
lived happily together. His widow sur
vives him."
Hlore Irons in the Fire.
The licv'. Mr- Colton, the author of
the "Junius Tracts" of the last cam
paign, has announced his intention of
publishing "The Life and Time of Hen
ry Clay." It will appear in two vol
umes; and the value of its contents hat
been ushered forth with a preliminary
flourish of trumpets by six whig gen
tlemen of New York three "honora
bles" and three "esquires" who cer
tify that itey have seen portions of the
MS, and
"That the author's peculiar and well
known yowers as a writer have been
strikingly displayed, both in the plan
and execution of this new task, which
is now nearly completed. He has im
parted to a familiar subject the freshness
and charm of novelty, not only by his
mode of treating it, but by the new
matter which a thorough exploratiou of
this rich field has- afforded. Among the
numerous topics of captivating interest,
the new light in which he has placed
the alledged 'bargain' between Mr.
Adams and Mr. Clay, and the disclosures
he has made regarding it, by the pre
sensation of new and documentary evi-
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