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ei SJTK VOLUME IX. PLAQUEMINE, PARISH OF IBERVILLE, LA., JUNE 13, 1857. NUMBER 44. rtJBI.fSÄE'D EVERY SATURDAY MORNINGÄH WILLIAM P. BRADBURN. terms. SUBSCRIPTION—Five Dollars per annum— due aad payable at the time of subscribing. ADVERTISEMKNTS will he inserted at th rate of One Dollar per square (of ten lines or less) for th fir»t, and Fifty Cents for every subsequent iuscrliou. \ liberal discount, h »wever, on these rates wi,' be made on fcdvertieeineut» iuserted for any length of liait». ANNOUNCING CANDIDATES—Ten Dollars Jbr all offices, in each language—invariably in advance. OBITUARY NOTICES, not exceeding three or four liaea, will be cheerfully iiiscrtc.l without charge; but those of greater length will l>e charged as aUvcrtise meo(» JOB WORK—Cash on delivery. SPECIAL NOTICES. Th« privilege of yearly advertisers is strictly limited to tbeir own immediate and regular business; and the busi nets of an advertising firm is not considered as including that of its individual members. Merchants or others advertising by the year will only be allowed the space of a half column in the paper, at the rtrtes at present charged them by this paper. Calls on persons to become candidates will be inserted as other advertisements. Advertisements of two columns width will be charged treble the usual rates. Advertisements not marked on the copy for a specified time will be inserted till forbid,and payment exacted. And finally—All communications for this paper, of any and every character whatsoever, intended to promote the private ends or interests of individuals, corporations, so« tieties or schools, will be charged as advertisements A Fortunate Ruin. by sylvamcs cobb, jr. George Ballerton sat in his room at his hotel. He was a young man of six^and twenty; tall and slim of frame; with a face of exceeding intellectual beauty; and dressed in costly garments, though his toilette was but indifferently performed. He was an orphan, and f r some years had boarded at the hoit !. It required but a single glance into his pale features to tell that he was an invalid. He sat with his head resting upon his hands, and his whole frame would ever and anon tremble as though with some powerful emotion. As the youth sat thus his door was opened, and an elderly gentleman enter ed. 'Ah doctor—you are moving early this morning,' said Ballerton, as he lazily arose from his seat and extended his hand. •Oh—not early for me, George,' return ed Allyne, with a bright smile. 'I am an tnrly bird.' 'Well—you've caught a worm this time.' 'I hope 'twill prove « valuable one.' *1 don't know,' sighed (he youth. 'I fear a thousand worms will inherit this poor body ere long!' 'Nonsense! You're worth half a centu ry yet,' cried the doctor, giving him a gentle slap on the shoulder. 'But tell me, George—how is it wiib Rowland?' 'Just as I told you. All is gone.' •I don't understand it, George.' 'Neither do I,' said the young man, sorrowfully. 'That Charles Rowland could have done that thing I would not —could not—have believed. Why— had au angel appeared to me two weeks ago, and told me that Rowland was sha* ky, I would not have paid a moment's at tention to it. But only think: When my father died, he selected for my guardian his best friend—and such I even now be» lieve Charles Rowland was—and in his bands he placed all his wealth, for him to keep until 1 should become of age.— And when I did arrive at that period of life I left my money where it wa3. I had no use for it. Several times, within three or four years, has Rowland asked me to take my money and invest it, but 1 would not. I bade him keep it, and use it if he wished. 1 only asked that when I wan ted money he would honwr my demand. I felt more safe, iu fact, than I should have felt had my money been iu a bank on deposit.' •How mttch had he when he leftî' »How much of minet' •Yes.» 'He should have had one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.' •What do you mean to doî' »Ah —you hare me on the hip there.' 'And yet you must do something, George. God knows I would keep you if I could. I shall claim the privilege of paying your debts, however.' •No, no, doctor—none of that.' ♦But I tell you I shall. I shall pay your debts, but beyond that I can only help you to help yourself. What do you say to going to sea? A faint smile swept across the youths pale features at this remark. *1 should make a smart hand at sea, doctor, I can hardly keep my legs on shore. No, no—i must •Muet what?' 'Alas! I know not. I shall die—that's alii' 'Nonsense, George. I say go to sea. You couhl'nt go into a store; and you would tu if you could. You do not wish to remain here amid the scenes of your fcappier'days. Think of it; at sea you will he free from all sneers of heartless snobs,-and free from all contact with things you loath«. Think of it.' George Ballerton started to his feet and paced the floor for some minutes When he stopped a new life seemed al« ready at work within him. 'If I went to sea what could I do?' •You understand ail the laws of for eign trade?' 'Yes. You know I had a thorough schooling at that in my father's countings house.' 'Then you can have the berth of a su«, percargo.' 'Are you sure 1 can get one?' 'Yes.' 'And the salary? 'Two thousand dollars.' 'Doctor John Claudius Allyne, I will go.' #**•#* George Ballerton walked one evening to the house of the wealthy merchant, An drew Wilton. It was a palatial dwelling and manj r a hopeful, happy hour had he spent beneath its roof. He rang the hell and was admitted to the parlor. In a few minutes Mary Wilton entered. She was only twenty. She had been waiting until that age to be George Ballerton s wife. Some words were spoken—many moments of painful silence ensued. ' Mary—you know all. I am going upon the sea. I am going to work for my living. I am going forth from nty native land a beggar. 1 cannot stay long now. Mary, did I know you less than I do—or, knowing you well, did 1 know you as I know many— I should give you back your vows, and free you from all bondage. But I believe I should trample upon your heart did I do that thing now. 1 know your love is too pure and deep to La torn from your bojom at will. So I say—wait—wait ! ' But why wait? Have I not enough ? sh !' You know not, again, what you say. There are other feelings in the human heart besides love. 1 hat love is a poor profitless passion which puts aside all other considerations. We must love for eternity I and so our love must he free. Wait. 1 nm going at work. Aye—upon the sea, at work ! ' 'But why upon the sea? Why away where my poor heart must ever beat in anxious hope and doubt as it follows thee? 'Because I cannot remain here. Hun dreds of poor fools have imagined that I shunned them because I was proud. They knew not that 'twas the tainted atmos phere of their moral life that I shunned. They sfloat over my misfortune. Men may call me fooli*h; but twould kill me to stay here.' •Alas! must it be?' •It must. You will wait?' •I will wait, even to the gates of the tomb.' 'Then Heaven bless and preserve you!' # * # # • « The ruined youth was upon the ocean —his voyage commenced—his duties as laborer for his own daily bread all fairly assumed. Ah—it was a strange life for him to enter upon. From the ownership of immense wealth to the trade-books of a merchant-ship was a transition indeed! But er4he wert on deck again he had fairly resolved that he would do his duty come what would, short of death. He would forget that be ever did else but work for his livelihood. With these re.-« solves clearly defined in his mind he al ready felt better. At first oar supercargo was too weak to do much. He was very sea-sick, and it lasted nearly two weeks; but when that passed off, and he could pace the vibra ting deck with a stout stomach, his appe tite grew sharp, and his muscles began to grow strong. At first his appetite cra ved some of the many delicaces he had been so long used to; but they were not to be had, and he very soon learned to do without them. The result was, that his appetite became natural in its wants and his system began to find itself nour ished by simple food, and in proper quan tities. For years he had looked upon break fast us a meal which must be set out and partaken of from mere fashion. A cup of coffee, and perhaps a peice of dry toast, or some seasoned and highly spi ced titbit, had constituted the morning meal. But now when the breakfast hour came he approached it with a keen appe tite, and felt as strong and hearty as at any time of day. By degrees the hollow cheeks became full; the dark eye assumed new lustre; the color, rich and healthful, came to the face; the breast swelled with increasing power; the lungs expanded and grew strong; the muscles became more firm and true; the nerves grew calm and steady; and the garments which he had worn when he came on board had to be iet out some inches, in order to make them encompass bis person. His disposition became cheer ful and bright; and by the time the ship had reached the southern capes of Africa the crew had all learned to love him. Through storui and sunshine; through tempest and calm; through dark hours and bright, the young supsreargo made his voyage. In one year from the day on which he left his native land he placed his foot again upon the soil of his home. But he did not stop. The same ship, with the same officers, was going upon the same cruise again; and he meant to go in her. He saw Mary Wilton, and she would wait. Ile saw Doctor Allyne, and the kind old gentleman praised him for his manly independence. Again George Ballerton was upon the sea; and again he assumed the duties of bis office, and even more. He stood watch when there was no need of it, and during seasons of storin he claimed a post on deck. At the end of another year the young man returned to his home again. He was now eight-and-twenty, and few who knew him two years before could recog nize him now. His face was bronzed by exposure; his cheeks full and plump; his frame stout and strong and erect like a forest chief. His muscular system was nobly developed, and the men were few who could stand before him in trials of physical sîfîngth. When he first left the city, two years before, he had weighed just one hundred and thirty pounds avoir dupois. He now brought up the beam fairly at one hundred and seventy-six.— Surely he was a new man in every res pect. On the afternoon of the third day, as he entered the'office of his hotel, the clerk handed him a letter. He opeued it, and found it to be from Mr. Wilton. It was a request that he would be at the merchant's house at nine o'clock on that evening. At the appointed hour George Baller ton entered the merchant's parlor. He found Mr, Wilton and Dr. Allyne there. A warm greeting ensued, and then the conversation was brisk and interesting. 'George,' said the doctor, after the youth had given a full account of his adveus tures, 'I should think you would almost forgive poor Rowland for having made off with your fortune.' 'Forgive him?' returned George. O—I did that in the first place.' 'Well, George,' resumed the doctor, 'Mr. Rowland is here. Will you see him ! 'See him? See Charles Rowland? Of course I will!' The door opened, and Mr Rowland en tered. He was an elderly man, but hale and hearty. The old man and the young shook hands and then inquired after each others health. 'You received a note from me, some two years ago,' said Mr. Rowland, 'in which I stated that one in whom 1 had trusted had got your money, and mine with it?' 'Yes, sir' whispered the youth. 'Well,' resumed Rowland, 'Doctor Al lyne was the man. He had your money.' 'How? What? gasped George, gazing from one to the other in blank astonish ment. 'Hold on, my boy,' cried the doctor, while a variety of emotions seemed at work within his bosom. I was the villain. It was 1 who got your money. I worked your ruin, my boy. And now listen, and I'll tell you why: •I saw that you were dying. Your fath er died of the same disease. A consump tion was upon you,—not a regular puis monary affection—but a wasting away of the system for the want of vitality.— The mind was wearing out the body. The soul was slowly, but surely, eating its way from the cords that bound it to the earth. I knew that you could be cured; and I knew, too, that the only thing in the world which would cure you was to throw you upon your own physical re sources for a livelihood. There was a morbid willingness of the spirit to pass away. You would have died ere you would have made an exertion as worse than death. It was a strange state of both mind and body. Your lerge for tune rendered work unnecessary, so there was no hope while that fortune remained. Had it been wholly a bodily malady I could have argued you into the necessas ry work for a cure. And, on the other hand, had it been wholly a mental diss ease, I might have driven your body to help your mind. But both were weak, and I knew that you must either work or die. 'And now, my boy, I'll tell you where my hope lay. I knew that yon possessed such a true pride of independence that you would not depend upon others. 1 knew that if you were forced to it you would work. I saw Rowland and told him my plans." I assured him that if we could contrive to get yoa to sea, and make you start ont into active life, for the sake of life, you could be saved. He joined me at once. I took your money and his, and then bade him clear out. Yon know the rest. And now tell me, my boy; If I give you back your fortune will you forgive me? Your money is safe— every penny of it—to the amount of a hundred imd fifty thousand dollars. Poor Rowland has suffered much in knowing how you looked upon him; but I know that he is amply repaid by the sight of your noble, pow erful frame, as he sees it to-night. And now George—are we forgiven?' It was a full hour before all the questions j of the happy friends could be asked and an j swered; and when the doctor and Rowland i had been firgiven and blessed for the twenti j eth time. Mr. Wilton said,— •Wait!' ! He left the room, and when he returned ha ! led sweet Mary by the hand. I Late in the evening 1 , afier the hearts of our j friends had fairlv begun to grow tired with joy I George asked Marv how much longer she was j willing to wait. Mary asked her father, and 1 the answer was— 'Two weeks!' ! |Cr"An exchange paper recommends j j the d aily use of chickens, either roasted, j I boiled or made into pies; or turkeysroas- 1 \ tec*, for all persons troubled with rheuma ■ tism, dyspepsia, gout or nervous disor- I j tiers. This is an excellent prescription ! ; for well people. THE BAGASSE FURNACE. PATENTED Dec. 4th. 18:16; same patent reissued Aug. 6th, 1856: and new patent grant ed Aug. 6th. 1S56; to. S. it. Oilman, of New Or leans. This furnace is now in use on EIGHTEEN PLANTATIONS IN LOUISIANA, ?nd com bines with unequalfied success the six important and dsitinctive features of, 1. Working entirely by natural draught. 2. Containing no grate bars or other irons in interior. 3. Never requiring the bagasse to be stirred or touched after it falls from the carrier into the hopper of t',ie furnace, 4. Drying the bagasse thoroughly in the furnace where it remains more than one hour, exposed to great heat, before it reaches the point of combustion. 5. Forming no slag, and the ashes being carried by the draught into a second chamber, are with drawn at any time without stopping the sugar mill. 6. Burning all the bagasse on plantations of any size, and requiring no other attention than to take out the ashes and occasionally throw in wood—the average consumption of which has been only one-half a cord in twenty-four hours, ■when the furnace, flues and chimney were proportioned. The furnace erected under the new patent of August 6th, 1856, are fed without rollers by a simple arangement of balanced doors in the bot tom of the hoppers, which open by the weight of the bagasse and require no attention whatever. This is the only Bagasse F'urnace which com« bines the above named features, either theoreti cally or practically. An investigation of the patents, specifications and drawings (to be had of the subscribers) will prove this furnace to be constructed upon strictly scientific principles, entirely distinct from those of and other patented furnace, and an examina tion of the furnace in operation, will convince the the most incredulous of the successful application of the principles laid down in the patents, as well as its perfect simplicity of construction and management, economy and durability. Some of these furnaces have taken off three crops without any repairs, there being nothing but fire brick exposed to the fire. The undersigned are now prepared to contract with parties for supplying and putting these furnaces in operation, and solicit of sugar planters an investigation of their testified achievements. E. CARVfc K COMPANY, 70 Gravier street; or to S. H. GILMAN, 31 Natchez st. AGENTS— A. J. CHAPMAN, Bayou Goula; HART. AUSTIN & CO., Plaquemine. ET The undersigned is also Agent for the "NILES' WORKS" Foundry, and will furnish any kind of Machinery that planters may need. dec^7 A. J. CHAPMAN. CARSOIV & KEARNY, APOTHECARIES AND DRUGGISTS, PLAQUEMINE, I.a., HAVE just received an extensive assortment of Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals, etc. The utmost ajtention having been given to the selection of the purest articles, the patronage of the public is respectfully solicited. Also on hand, a large and varied collection of Paints, Oils. Varnishes, Brushes, Perfumery, Glassware, Fancy Groceries, Stationery, School Books French and English. Fancy Articles^&c. Physicians' Prescriptions Will receive particular attentiou at all hours. Call and see, ut the sign of the GOLDEN MORTAR, corner of Main and Bank sts. my3 JOSEPH FISHER, Boot and Shoe Maker, Has established himself in Plaquemine in ___ the above business. He will perform all work entrusted to him with neatness and despatch, with durable workmanship, in fashionable style, and at moderate rates. He solicits a share of pub lic patronage. His shop is on Bank street, nearly opposite Biehler's Barber shop. dec 18-ly xroTxcs, IS hereby given to Resident and Non-Resident Tax Payers of this Parish, that the State and Parish Tax Rolls for the year 1856, are now de posited in my office, subject to their inspection; and those who have not already paid their taxes, are requested to come forward and pay the same within as short a delay as possible. Notice is also given to PEDDLERS, keepers of COFFEE-HOUSES, and all other persons pursuing trades and occupations which require Licenses, th.it I have on hand a bountiful supply of State and Parish Licenses, and their attention is called to section 4 of an Act of the Legislatuie of this State, approved 15th March, 1855. JOS. H. ERWIN, feb28-tlje Sheriff and Collector TO THE PUBLIC. rr consequence of the competition of Auctio neers, notice is hereby given to Administra tors, Tutors. Executors, and all other persons in terested in having Succession Property sold, that I will make such Sales on moee reasonable terms than any Auctioneer in the Parish. febl4 JOS. H. ERWIN, Sheriff. Fire Grates—Fire Grates. COMPLETE assortment of Chamber and Par j?; c ^ Fir,s ^T ?IÄ* C0 NEW SPRINtTANlTsraHER 1857. g CQPS, 1857. By recent arrivals from New York, Philadelphia and New Orleans, WE are in receipt of a general as« sortment of Fresli Seasonable Goods, We append below a partial list of Goods em braced in our stock, to which we invite espeoial attention: Dress Ooods. Plain and figured Bereges; do do Tissues; Printed Organdies, a rich assortment; Plain and printed Muslins, neat styles and t.h*ap, Printed Berege DeLaines; Foulard Silks, plaid and striped; French Prints, new Spring styles; American da, spring patterns; Rich Printed Brilliantines; do do Jaconets; Printed Linen Lawns, neat figures; Sereges, Organdies, and muslin flounced Robu; Faney Tarletons and Crapes for evening dress»», SILK DRESS GOODS of every description. Embroideries, Laces, &c. Embroidered Muslin Cape ißisques; do do Mantles; Applique. Silk do: Maltese Lace Habits and Sleeves, in sett, ■ Honiton do do do do; Guipure do do do do; Embroidered Muslin Chemisets; do do Callars and SUtttt, do Linen Cambric Hdkfs; Infants' Embroidered Wai'sis; do do Robes; Embroidered Flounced Dresses; Cambric and Swiss Insertings; do do Edgings; Embroidered Bands and flouncingt, Lace Capes and Mantillas; Valenciene and Maltese Thread-, Guipure, real Bobbin and Imitation Lams White Ooods. Swiss Muslins, plain and embroidered; do do in checks, stripes and platd*; Plain and Checked Nainsooks; do do CamOrics; Corded Muslin Stripes; Bishop's Lawn, India Mull, fyc : Cambric and French Dimities; Rich Figured Brilliantines; Brocade Drapery Muslin; Fancy and Embroidered Window Curtains, B obinct Musquito Nettings, 11-4 # 12*4 w id*, White and Brown Linen Nettings; do Fancy Cotton do; Irish Linens and Linen Laims ; Damask Table Cloths and Napkins; Birds eye, Scotch and Russia Diaper; Huckelbuck and Diaper Towelings; Linen Sheetings, 10-4, 11-4 and 12-4 und*, Cotton do do do do; Pillow Case Linens; s Linen Cambrics and Lawns; French Lawn and linen cambric Hdkft, Rich Brocade Counterpanes. ZkSonrning Ooods. Mourning and second mourning Beregis, do do Delaines; do do Jaconets; do do Ginghams, Plaid and figured black silk Tissues; do do do Grenadin «. Black Chalice and Bombazine; Mohair and sdk warp Alpaca; Black Crepe Bereges; do Etimene; English and Italian Crepe; Black crepe sets, Collars and Sleeves; White do and Tarleton sets; Ladies' Embroidered Mourning Hdkft, Clothing Sand Oents Fnrishiags, Spring and Summer Clothing — large and Inn» tiful assortment; Black and fancy Silk Cvavats; Plain and fancy Neck Ties; SiiA aud satin spring Stocks; French linen Shirts; Linen Bosom do; Cotton and Lisle Net Undershirts; Linen and Cotton Drawers; Kid, Lisle, Buck and Silk Glovets Suspenders, Fancy Articles, fyc; India Rubber Clothing. Boots aztd Shoes. Gents French Calf Soots; do Calf Shoes and Brogans; dy Pat. Leather do do; do Common and Fancy Slippers; do Prunella and Gongren Gaiters; Ladies' Brogans and Walking Shoes; do Gaiters of every style; do White Kid Slippers and Gaiters; do Fancy Velvet Toilet Slippers; do Kid Ties and Buskins; Children's Moro Buskins, red, blue and grtm; do do Ancle Ties, ass'd colours; do Kid Walking Shoes; Boys' and Children's Boots; do do Brogans; Misses' Shoes of every description; Planters' Heavy Boots; Heavy Black and Russet Brogans; Fisherman's and Ditchers' Boots; Men's Seal and Calf Pegged Boots. Plantation Ooods. Striped and Plaid Osnaburgs; 7-8 and 4-4 Plaid Osnaburg Shirtings, Heavy Twilled Osnaburgs; Kerseys and Linseys; White and Broivn Domestics: Denims and Cottonades; French and Navy Blankets; Made up Negro Clothing. Ploughs—Hall if McClanahan's, Cast Steel Hoes, all sizes; Cane Carts arul Wagons; Cart Harness, Trace Chains, !(C.; Hunt's and Collins' Axes; Grass Scythes and Bush Hooks, Shovels aud Spades, Cane Knives, ugar Skimmers and Ladles, ugar cales, improved patent, Wheel Barrows, Corn Shellers. —ALSO Hardware and Cutlery of every description. The whole for sale at our usual moderate rates Our friends will please call and examine our splendid stock. ap4 HART, AUSTIN k CO Whiskey. Cf BM». Old Rectified Whiskey. 50 half OU bbl. do. do HART AUSTIN & CO.