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THE SOUTHERN .E(! IS.
W '■ v *•••. . , ' * •• “ Vf -:; 7 AND. HARFORD COUNTY. INTELLIGENCER. .. —rr." ———— : - —a*- * | ■ ~ 1 ’ —7 —t ll '■ 1 ,1 |i'as gtboteb lo t|e Setos of tjje §ag, Agriculture,.literature, ffflitits aub Heneral |ufarmatian. “LET US CLING TO THE CONSTITUTION AS THE MARINER CLINGS TO THE LAST PLANK WHEN THE NIGHT AND TEMPEST CLOSE AROUND HIM.” SI PER ANNUM. , BEL AIR, MD. SATURDAY MORNING. APRIL 26, 1862. VOL. VI.-NO. 17. THE SOUTHERN IS PUBLISHED V EVERT SATURDAY MORNING, BY -A-- W. BATEMAN - , AT ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, OTHERWISE One Dollar and Fifty Cents, Will be charged. RATES OF ADVERTISING. One square, (twelve lines or less,) three inser tions, SI.OO. Each subseqhent insertion 25 cts. One square three months $3.00; Six months $5.00; Twelve months SB.OO. Business cards of six lines or less, $5 a year. No subscription taken for less than a year. THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. Up with the sun at morning, Away to the garden he hies, To see if the sleepy blossoms Have begun to open their eyes; Running a race with the wind, His step as light and fleet, Under the window I hear The patter of little feet. Anon to the brook he wanders, In swift and noiseless flight, Splashing the sparkling ripples Like a fairy water-sprite. No sand under fabled river Has gleams like his golden hair; No pearly sea-shell is ftiirer Than his slender ankles bare; Nor the rosiest stem of coral, That blushes in ocean’s bed, Is sweet as the flush that follows Our darling’s airy tread. From a broad window my neighbor Looks down on our little cot. And watches the “poor man’s blessing”— I can not envy his lot. He has pictures, books, and music, Bright fountains and noble trees, Flowers that bloom in vases, Birds from beyond the seas; But never does childish laughter His homeward footsteps greet; His stately balls ne’er echo To the tread of Innocent feet. This child is our “speaking picture," A birdling that chatters and sings, Sometimes a sleeping cherub, (Our other one has wings); His heart is a charmed casket, Full of all that's cunning'and sweet, And no harp-strings hold such music As follows his twinkling feet. When the glory of sunset opens The highway by angels trod, And seems to unbhr the City v Whose builder and maker is God, Close to the crystal portal, I seeiby the gates of pearl The eyes of our other angel— A twiß-born little girl. And I ask to be taught and directed To guide his footsteps aright, So that The accounted worthy To walk in sandals of light ; And bear, amid songs of welcome From messengers trusty and fleet, On the starry floor of heaven The patter of little feet. Ipstfllaiufftts. TALK ABOUT XABBIAOE. BY. T. S. ARTHUR. Two maidens in youthful bloom and beauty, sut earnestly talking. Their thoughts wore reaching far away into the future; their theme was marriage. “ 1 like him well enough,” said one of them: “but—” “ What is the impediment, Alice?” “His income is too small.” “What is it?” . “Bight hundred dollars a year.” “You might live on that.” “Live I Bah ! What kind of living?” “Not in a princely style, I will admit.” , wNor scarcely in plebian, Pautiy.. Eight hundred dollars! Why father pays six hundred dollars rent; and I’m Wire our style of living is plain enough! Eight hundred! Oh, no, I like Harry better than any young man I have met. I could love him, no doubt. But he can’t support a wife in any decent kind of style.’’ “Did your father and mother begin their married li&ou.a larger income than Hairy Pleasants bow receives ? Mine did not, as I have often beard them relate.” and mother 1 Oh I according to their story, Job’s famous turkey was •scarcely poorer than they were in the be ginning. Mother did all of her own work*, even to the washing and ironing, I believe. Father’s income was not over three hundred dollars n year.” ’ “No doubt. In fact, I’ve heard mother say that the first hard struggling years of their life were among the happiest she had known. But that doesn’t signify for me. That is no reason why her daughter should elect to go into the kitchen, and spend her years in washing, ironing and cooking. If a man isn’t able to supports wife genteel, and in the style to which she has been ac customed, let him marry some Irish cook, sewing girl or washing woman, who will furnish bis household with the needed ec onomy. Young men who can’t earn more than eight hundred or a thousand dollars a year, should not look into our circle for wives.” “I don’t like to hear you talk in this way, Alice,” said her companion. “We are not superior beings, but only the equals oj men.” “Did I say we were superior ?” “One might infer from your language that you thought so.” “I don’t sec how the inference can be drawn. - ’ “ Our circle for wives, you said just now.” “Yes.” “What do'you mean by it ?” “A circle of intelligence, refinement, tasto and cultivation,” replied Alice. “You don’t say wealth.” “No; [my father, though living in good style is not rich. I have heard him say, more than once, that we were up to our in come.” “Then wc have only our own sweet selves with which to endow our husbands. No houses or land, no slock from which to draw an income; nothing substantial on which to claim the right of being supported in costly idleness. We must be rich in deeu as to personal attractions.” “We are educated accomplished, and— and—” Alice was a little bewildered in thought and did not finish the sentence. * “Not better educated and accomplished, as girls, than are most of the young men who, as clerks, earn only from seven hun dred to a thousand dollars a year. In this regard we are simply their equals. But it strikes me that in another view of the case, we cannot claim even an equality. They are our superiors.” “Not by any means,” replied Alice. “We shall see. Here is Harry Pleas ants, for instance. What is his income ? I think you mentioned the sum jost now.” “Eight hundred dollars a year.” “That is the interest on—how much ? let me see—about twelve thousand dollars. To be equal as a match for Harry, then, you should be worth twelve thousand dol lars.” “How you talk Fanny.” “To the point, don’t I ? If we are not superior to the young men who visit us; superior simply in virtue of our sex; then, our only claim to be handsomely supported in idol self indulgence, must lie in the fact that we endow our husbands with suf¢ worldy goods to warrant the condition.” “You are ingenious.” “No; matter of-faot. What have you to say against my position, Alice ? Are we better than young men ef equal intelli gence and education ?” “No; I cannot say that we are.” “If we marry, wo must look among these for husbands. Rich men, as a general thing, select their wives from rich men’s daughters. Our chances in that direction are not very encouraging. Your father has no dowry for bis child; nor has mine. Their families are largo and expensive, and little or nothing of the year’s inOotue is left at the year’s close. The best they can do for us is to give us homes; and I feel that it is not much to our credit that we are content to lean on our fathers, already stooping under the burden of years, care and toil, instead of supporting ourselves. The thought has troubled me of late.” A sober hue oamp over the face of Al ice as she sat looking into the eyes of her friend. She did not reply, and Fanny went on. V < f i “There is wrong in this. On what ground of reason ore we to be exempt from the common lot of useful work? We expect to become wives and and mothers. Is this our preparation ? Can you bake a loaf of sweet, light bread? “No. “Nor can I. Or roast a sirloin ?” “No” “Or broil a steak ? Just think of it Alice! We can manage a little useless em broidery or fancy knitting; can sing and play, dance and chatter; bat as to the real and substantial things of life we are igno rant and helpless. And, With all this, for sooth, we cannot think of letting curati ves down to the level and Condition of vfr- tuous, intelligent young men, who in daily, useful work, are earning a fair indepen dence! We are so superior that we must have husbands able to support us in luxu rious idleness, or we will have none ! We are willing to pass the man to whom love would unite us in the tenderest bonds, be cause his income is small, and marry for position one from whom the soul turns with instinctive aversion. Can we wonder that so many are unhappy?” “But eight hundred dollars, Fanny ! How is it possible for a married couple to live in any decent style, in this city on eight hundred dollars a year.” “They may live in a very comfortable style if the wife is willing to perform her part.” “What do you mean by her part, Fan ny ?” “We will take it for granted that she is no better than her husband; that having brought him no fortune beyond her own dear self, she cannot claim superior privi leges.” “Well?” . “Under what equitable rule is she ex empt ?” • “None. She must do her part of course, if there is any thing to do with. She must keep house, if he can afford a house. But if he have only eight hundred dollars a year ! Why, rent alone would consume half, or more than half of that. There would be no housekeeping in the case.— They must board.” “And the wife sit in idleness all the dav long ?” “She would have nothing to do.” “Could she not teach ? or by aid of a sewing machine earn a few dollars every week? or engage in some other useful work that would yield an income; and so do her part ?” “Yes, she might do something of the kind; but if marriage is to make ‘workies’ of us, it were better tp remain single.” “And live in unwomanly dependence on our parents and relatives. No, Alice; there is a false sentiment prevailng on this subject, and as I think and talk, I see it more and more clearly. Our pa rents have been weak in their love for us; and society, as constituted, has given us wrong estimates of things. We should have been required to do useful work in the household, from the beginning; and should have been taught that idleness and self-indulgence were discreditable. Our brothers are put to trades and professions, and made to comprehend from the begin ning, that industry is honorable, and that the way of useful work is the way by which the world’s brightest places are to be reached. But we are raised daintily and uselessly, aud so unfitted for our du ties as wives and mothers. Our pride and self-esteem are fostered; and we come to think of ourselves as future queens, who are to be ministered to in all things, instead of being ministrant, in loving self forgetfulness to others. No wonder that an anti-marriage sentimen* is beginning to prevail among young men of moderate incomes in all our larger cities. The fault is in us, Alice The sin lies at our door. We demand too much in this copartnership. We are not willing to do our share of work. Our husbands must bear all the burdens.” Alice sighed heavily. Her friend then continued. “I have read somewhere that tho delight of heaven is the delight of being useful. And it seems to me, as I dwell upon the thought, that the ucarest approach to heav enly delight here must be that state in which a wife come? when she stands by her husband's aide, and out of love for him, re moves one burden and another from bis shoulders, and so lightens his work that smiles rake the place of weariness and the shadowings of care. If he be rich she can hardly have so great a privilege; bnt if they are alike poor, and know how to mod erate their desires, their home may become an image of Paradise. ' Eight hundred dol lars! Alice, if you were really fitted to be come Harry’s wife, you might live with him, doing your part, happier than any queen/’, “That is, 1 must take in work and earn money, if we board; or—but housekeeping is out of the question.” ' “No; it should never be ont of the ques tion in marriage, I think.” ' . ■ “For house-rent alone would trice half of our income.” V “That does not follow.” “It does for any house I would consent eyes of other people who do not care a pen ny for us that is marring the fine fabric of our social life. Fine bouses, fine furniture, fine dresses, parties, shows and costly luxu ries of all kinds, are consuming domestic happiness, and burdening fathers and hus bands, in all grades of society, with embar rassment and wretchedness. Alice, we must be wiser in our generation.’’ “That is, coop ourselves up in two or three mean little bed rooms, with our eight hundrejd dollars a year husbands, and do our own cooking and, housework. Is that it, my pretty one ?” “Alice 1 You do not deserve a good man. You are not worthy to wed Harry Pleasants, and I trust you will pass him by, should he be weak enough to offer you his hand. He can’t afford to marry a girl of your expectations; he must content him self with one who, like himself, regards life as real, life as earnest, and the way of use and duty the way to true honor and to the highest happiness.” Skating Courting. —Well, sir, Mary caught the skating fever which is raging so fearfully. I heard her express a wish for a pair of skates, and the next day she had the best pair that could be bought in the city, and nobody knows who sent them to her. We went upon the ice, and then Mary sat quietly down, ordered me on my knees, and quietly placed a foot—that foot I—in my lap, and bid me put on her skates. If, sir, Venus had dropped from Heaven, and told me to rub her down with rotten stone and oil, it could not have astonished me more than when that divine foot was placed on my unworthy lap. I folt faint, but buckled on the skates and stood up, with Mary by my side I No; well let me tell you. Mary and her victim in the first skating lesson. Mary and I started—she on my left arm—all square. First, Mary’s dear little gaiter boots presented themselves to my astonished vision, and before I had time to wonder how they oame up before me, I felt them pressing their blessed beauty with emphasis into the pit of my stomach. Next scene—wavy hair, with S3O bonnet, came pitching into my waist coat with such violence that I felt the but tons against my spine. Next, Mary gazed at me from between my jack boots, and anon her blessed little nose was thrust in to my shirt bosom. Ah 1 my friends, all research and study on the mysterious sub ject of woman has been comparatively vain till, in this eventful year of 1862, the fashion has opened new and various re sources of information. Do you remem ber your first attempt at driving tandem? 1 Do you remember how that infernal per verse beast that you selected for your leader, would insist on turning short round and staring you in the face as if to ask, ‘what the deuce you’d be at?’ well, just you go and try a woman on skates, that’s all—just try it 1 Ah 1 won’t you come to the conclusion that women have sundry and divers .ways of accomplishing their object ? Dear Mary 1 I offered myself to her every time she turned up or oame round. lam hers. ' ' • Home Angels. —Patter, patter, comes the rain; and as I listen, the tears drop one by one, in sympathy with weeping na ture. 'Tie not the splash of the rain ou the door stone or the rattle on the window* pane that I seem to hear; no, it is the sol emn music of the drops, as they foil, on the little grave, where sleeps my first bora, my idol boy. . But why am I sad ? Let me rather re joice. Soon will the swelling buds and swinging grass take the place on that dear little spot of eartti, which now is wet with nature’s tears. And the new life, sd bright and beautiful, where now all seems death aud gloom, will point with Hope’s finger upwards. I think of my boy as the bright beauteous child I lot, made yet still more lovely and free from suffering. 1 His ipission on earth waa short, but it only commenced here. Am I paid?— Those little arms I find twining around my neck, and the angel voice breathes in j my ear—“where your treasure is there let * your heart bo also.” Many arc the homes Deaf as a Peak In a town in New Hampshire, lived old Farmer P., who was very deaf. On bib &rm, near the road,stood a very large tree, and thirty feet from the ground on this tree was a large knot. Aa farmer P. was passing by one day, he thought he would ent it down to make a mill-post of. He had been at work some time, when ho thought some stranger would oome along and ask him the follow ing questions, and he would make the fol lowing answers: ‘What is that tree for?’ asks the stranger. ‘A mill post,’ replies the farmer. ‘How long are you going to cut it ?’ ‘Up to that knot.’ ‘How much do you ask lor it?’ ‘Five dollars.” ‘I won’t give it.’ ‘Well, if you will not, somebody else will.’ As old Farmer P. was working away, sure enough a stranger did come along, antji the following dialogue ensued: “How are you this morning ?” said the stranger. “A mill-post,” replied the fanner. “How far is it down to the corner ?” “Up to that knot.” “You don’t understand; how far ia it down to that corner ?’ “Five dollars.” “You old scamp ! I have a good mind to give you whipping.” “Well, if you do not, somebody 1 else will.” The Time to Make Love to a Woman. — l have always heard it said that the very best time to offer your love to a woman, is directly after her own lore has been trifled with by a third person.— When the graceless scamp, who had pos sessed himself of the gem which he had neither the sense nor the soul to appreci ate, who had esteemed carelessly and worn lightly what you would have given yor life to win, has at length tossed it away, or suffered it to fall from him, then, say the philosophers, is your time. The ten drils of a heart rudely rent asunder from the strength which they had clasped, are trailing, torn, forlorn, and will close with blind instinctive clinging around the first support that offers. —Gail Hamilton. •9“ The following letter was sent by a man to his son at college: “My dear son:—l write to send you two pair of my old breeches, that yon may have a new coat made out of them. Also some new socks which your mother has just knit, by cutting down some of mine. Your mother sends you ten dollars with out my knowledge, and for fear yon wohld not use it wisely I have kept tack half, and only send yon five. Your mother and I are well, except that your sister has got the measles, Which we think would spread amongst the other girls, if Tom had not bad nbt had them before, and -be is the only one left. I hope ydn will do honor to my teachings; if not, you are a donkey, and your mother and myself your affec tionate parents.” SCHOOL KISS, “Who gave that kiss?” the teacher cried; “ 'Tans Harry Hall,” John Jones replied; “Come here to me,’’ old Switehem said, And solemnly he shook his head: “What al genius prompted yon So rude thing irtsohool to do f” Said Harry, “I can hardly say Jqat how it happened. Any way To .do a sum she whispered me, Apd round my face her curls, yon see— That, is, tar cheek, and I —and Just kissed faff, but I don’t know why.” * In Squeezing Order.—A young lady in reply to her father's question why sue did nut wear upon tar augers, said: “Be cause, papa, they hurt me when anybody harness have you to have year Lu&d Answer.—“Ptav, Mr. Profes sor, what is a pereptraria ?” “Madam, ft is simply a circumlocutory style of oratorical I I ill Ml lljp I bing an atom Of ideality, loA in a vtal profundity.” . W “Thank yon, air,” said the oM tody, vlllßv 0 JUov W IWI *llvU*U* IV WVIs I at the