Newspaper Page Text
THE SOUTHERN .EGIS,
A, 3ST 3D * ;-:• '•- . HARFORD COUNTY INTELLIGENCER. ... 1 * ’* I • •. •) • “VW ’ •• ■ '•*’ t.* l ™ J < 'V*J T* •u;CTlff| > kill fH -If / '*<4 ’ * ** sf frit r * pww t .1 ** * J |a* _ j-. i-- . rn i. . - - ■ - . . . , . , .j. ifl t***^^ilhiM > t^ > *^'~~^ , TonrT^r?TiF^if'W'nwff l WjTißWwiiTiiipttM §tbattli la l|t Dittos of Ijjt gsj, filtnlnrt, |Joltltts ant Central |nfrsfion. $1 PER ANNUM. BEL AIR. MD. SATURDAY OCTOBER 25. 1862. THE SOUTHERN tEGIS ID PUIILIBIIKP EVERY SATURDAY MORNING, ST A.. "W_ BATEMAN, AT ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM, IK ADVAHCE, OTHERWISE One Dt'llar and Fifty Cents , WTU be charged. RATES OF ADVERTISING. One square, (twelve lines or less,) three inser tions, SI,OO. Each subsequent 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. |)oftical. For the Southern JEgh. AUTUMN WINDS. The sere, the sad, the mournful days, in funeral pomp and gloom, Are come to hide the last faint smiles of summer in the tomb; The treasures of the field have sprung, and bloom ed and passed away. And we are left alone to mourn above their pale decay. The solemn winds I they come, they come with sighs on every breeze ; Not sorrow pours round early bier so mournful sounds as these; Sad through the gloomy aisles of night they come to haunt our souls With memories of the dead on each wild dirge that doiefui rolls. They come to wake a burial hymn around the violet’s grave, To waft us hack uur youthful - dreams o’er Time's remorseless wave ; To whisper of those cloudless skies and never fading bowers, And plains by beauteous beings trod, the dear, the loved of ours. And as beneath the leafless tree I stand at shut of day, The winged wanderers lift their voice and plain ly seem to say : “We come, the heralds of the Dead, from that far, happy shore, The souls that trend whose glorious plains shall bless your eyes no more; “Our path is o'er the wintry sea, 'midst darkness, v storm ana foam, Where the great thunder comes to rock the dark wild Wave, our home; We come to shake the gloomy vale, to haunt your lonely bowers, And sweep the trembling forest-lyre through the i long wintry hours, “To bear afar each leaf of bloom—through hall and minster dim * To send at night our billowy moan and roll our mighty hymn.” One boon we crave, ye rushing winds, ye heralds from the dead! We ask it with a tear, O winds, ere ye for aye be fled. Whilst o'er that high, untrodden clime, yon land of smiles and light, And through its Amaranthine vales ye held youc balmy flight, Beside the never-failing streams that sleep un troubled there, Saw ye the lost, the loved of ours, the good, the ■ young, the fair ? O tell, IffVom those blessed hills and shies for ever clear, They sometimes send one burning thought to friends that linger here. “We’ve roved that far, celestial shore, thosesweet and tranquil streams, Whose golden hours o’er spotless souls glide soft like gorgeous dreams; ‘‘We’ve fanned their shining garments fair in zephyrs sweet and mild, And they spoke not, though their bright lips moved, but looked ou us and smiled ; Por they knew that we would whisper back some tidings to your shore, Of those who toiled, and bowed, and wept, but smiled and wept no more.’’ . Naweb. WuU World, October, 1862. IPiscellaiuirMs. For.the Southern JBgit. A ntAjjteTCH. BY MlNNlto. “Stay, winged thought! I fata would question tbeo.” Strange words these, to full from such rosy lips. Wbgt need of pob a bright, beautiful being questioning thoughts, and painful ones evidently: as with a shadow of care, Winnie Robelle seats herself at the open casement* where the twilight shadows seem ao well cnlealntpd to woo her to pensivfe reverie. “Dreaming, Winnie?’’ and the sweet face turned from the broken reverie to en counter the form who hud stolen upon her so unobserved ly, How her trembling “ L-T US CLING TO THE CONSTITUTION AS THE MARINER CLINGS TO THE LAST PLANK WHEN THE NIGHT AND TEMPEST CLOSE AROUND HlM.** ' 111 .• >r .i , •• r i |t •’■! •'• ■.•>.../ i; . ■ t •' . , . . .’ ’ eyelids quivered! and the nether lip closed firmly as if to stifle a rising sigh “Dreaming !’’ What a tide of feeling swept over her drooping soul; for unwit tingly she had been, ulus! only dreaming; but now— < “As magic shell from ocean borne Doth hoard the murmur of its coral waves”— she turns aside to listen once again to tones that have so much power to charm, closely sealing the entrance to the one great sorrow of her heart. What has she to grieve for ? The world deems hers an envious lot! Dame Fortune (fickle god dess!) had showered copious blessings upon her. Kind parents cheered her earthly path; a father ever ready with strong arm to shield from the world's rough wintry blast; a mother with tender heart to feel, and gentle baud to soothe; and was not Fred. St. .Albans her first love and only choice, her accepted and ac knowledged suitor ? Aye, but at mention of that name a deathly pallor came over the beautiful face; and as at twilight hour she sat thinking of a future which had been pictured to her in such bright glowing colors, and Fred’s merry voice broke in upon her with, “Dreaming, Win nie ?”—what wonder she endeavors to stifle the rising sigh, as she gazed upon that lovod form and thought—How can I give thee up ? How can I bear to part ? Boldly her faint heart repelled the first niurmuriugs against Fred—her Fred— whom she treasured as so noble and so true. 'Twas whispered the glittering wine-cup bound him with her syren smiles; but an olden adage says, “Love is blind,” aud what others deemed and knew was the result of drinking too deeply of the colored fountain, gentle Winnie attributed to an overflow of spirits naturally buoyant and free; and yet to-night, os she en countered those deep dark eyes, their brilliancy seemed not all called forth by buoyancy and lightbearteduess, but rather —and on ! how she shrank from the bit ter thought!—from excess of wild aud in tense excitement. To remonstrate with Fred was vain Once, and once only, hud the timid girl found heart to plead with him ; and then the rash promise given, bow had it been kept? To-night's vivacity was proof Yet there was no murmur; the worn heart only shrunk closer within its nar row confines; the cheek grew paler, the step more languid aud weary. Chill November, with its shrill blasts, its wintry snows; but that night, of all nights the dreariest. The angry north wind whistled resentment and scorn, while the dripping eaves called forth a lonely, home-sick feeling. Within doors, how ever, the fire burned cheerily in thegfate, and close reclining on a crimson conch is the pale form of Winnie. The tender eye-lids are closed in srentle slum be,, while a tear, glistening like a dew-drop on the lily’s cup, rests upon the long fringing lashes. A slight tapping at the. door disturbed the sleceping form. Quick as thought the colored nurse, who sat watching her loved charge, hastens to obey the sum mons, but not until Winnie bad arisen, startled, from her couch. What rncaus the hurried story, whispered so low that she may not catch the faintest echo?— Her quick ear uotes the commotion over the household, and her bright eyes the consternation written upon every face.- Like lightning flushes, the truth comes home to her. Be still, wild heart, and cease thy throbbing® I She needed not words to teli her that he who had been almost life to her, was now forever lost and gone. Fred, the loved one, bad met with an untimely death; whilst returning from a midnight carousal. “Then angel eyes With pity wept When he whom virtue fain would save, His sacred vow so falsely kept, And strangely sought a drunkard’s grave.” There is a grief which is e’en too deep for tear*. Not a sigh ! not a tear!—but like the timid fawn which is startled by the crackling boughs, Winnie wandered through her' once-loved borne, sighing with uneasiness, as she dreamed of the time when her spirit should bask in ever lasting sunshine in realms of bliss, where partings arc unknown. By the aide of the babbling brook they laid her, in the early spring-time, when t)to violets bloomed their brightest. Two white stones mark her resting-place; one bears carved upon its cold front a dove with wings half fluttering, as though anxious to bid adieu to earthly scenes and suck a shelter 'midst the clouds; beneath it the inscription “Sweet, bt I 1 those who knew and loved the sweet fora* ■ sleeping beneath the cold clods of the t valley—sigh ae they think it should read, ■ “The broken-hearted is at rest." ; God keep thee, Wiunie; full many a heart has tasted of the bitter cop with which thine was broken ! Oh ! how often as we see thk glittering i wine-cup sparkling in its ruhy ray, in the , hand <>f some bright youth, do we shod i der as we hear his gay tones, “Duly this i once,” and be quaffs the seductive nectar, i “ ‘Only this once’—the tale is told, Me wildly quaffed the poisonous tide; ! With more than Esau's madness sold The birth-right of his soul, and died. \ > “ ‘Onle this once. 1 Beware ! Beware! Onze not upon the blushing wine; Repel temptation's siren snare, And prayerful seek for strength dirine. ,r Hillsdale, Harford Co., Md. I 1 AH INCIDENT. I passed up the natural arenas and . came out upon the green. My feelings were very poetical as I walked slowly to . wards the villago church. I entered.— , A popular preacher was holding forth, and . the little meeting bouse was mnob erowd , ed. Several persons were standing up, ' and I soon discovered that I must retain |my perpendicular position, as every seat ' | was crowded. I however passed op the 1 aisle until I had gained a position where . I could have a fair view of the faces of , nearly ail present. I soon perceived that , I was an object of attention. Many of ’ the congregation looked curiously at me, for I was a stranger to them all. In a ! few moments, however, the attention of . every one present seemed to be absorbed [ in the ambassador of grace, and I also be ■ gan to take an interest in the discourse. ,1 The speaker was fluent, and many of his . | flights wore even sublime. The music of r( the woods and the fragrance of health , seemed to respond to bis eloquence. Then . it was not a great stretch of the imagiua , j nation to fancy that the white headed j creatures around me, with their pouting ; lips and artless innocence, were beings of i I a higher sphere. While my feelings were thus divided l between the beauties and blessings of the i two worlds, and wrapt io a sort of poetical devotion, I detected some glances at me , of a most animated character. I need , not describe the sensation* experienced by a youth when the eyes of a beautiful woman rest for a time upon his counte- I nance—and when be imagines himself to be an object of interest to her. , I returned her glances with interest, and threw all the tenderness into my eyes ! which the scene, my meditations, and the preacher’s discourse hud inspired in my , heart. I doubted not that the fair young . damsel possessed kindred feelings with , myst lf—that we were drinking together ,at the fountain of inspiration. How . could it be otherwise ? She bad been burn and nurtured amid these wild and romantic scenes—and was made of ro mance, of poetry and tenderness. And . then 1 thought of the purity of woman’s , love—her devotion—her truth.* I ouly prayed that I might meet with her where | we could enjoy a sweet interchange of ; sen timed. Her glances contained—ser eral times our eyes met. My heart ached . with rapture. At length the benediction was pro nounced, L lingered about the promises ; until 1 saw the dark-eyed dams*) set oat for home, alone on foot. “0 that the . customs of society would permit me; for we are truly one in soul I Cruel formali ty, that throws up a barrier between hearts that gre made for each other!” Yet 1 , followed hqr. She looked behind, find I thought she evinced a notion of recognis ing me as the stranger of the day. 1 ( quickened my pace, and she actually ( slackened hers, as if to let me come up ! with her. j , i “Noble young creature/’ thought |.rr , “Her artiest And warm heart is superior . to the shackles of custom !’’ ♦I at length came within a stone’s threw j of her. She suddenly halted and turned her faoe towards me. My heart swelled to bursting. 1 reached the‘ spot where , she stood. She began to speak, and I | took off my hat, as if doing reverence to an-ji, kPgej. ... k i! ..!>>:,*, (~ “Are you a pedlar i “No, my dear girl; that is not my ot- , cupntinn.’’ ; “Well, I don’t know,’’ continued she not very bashful, and eyeing me sternly. 1 “I thought when I saw you in the meet- , I ing house that you kicked like the pedler t Jsed a pewter.half-dollar on Me a < i 11 ■mill Ini.i. | few weeks ago, and so I am determined to keep my eye on you. Brother John has got home now, and he says that if he catches the fellow, he’ll ring his neck for him, and I ain’t sure but you’re the good for-nothing rascal, after all!” Reader I did you ever take a shower bath. Going with the Girls. The entrance into society may be said to take place immediately after boyhood has passed away, yet a multitude take their initiative before their beards are presenta ble. It is a great trial, eitbr of a tender or a riper age. For an overgrown boy to go to a door, knowing well that there are a dozen girls inside, and knock or ring with an absolute certainty that in two or three minutes all eyes will be upon him, is s severe test of courage. To go before these girls and make a tour of the room without stepping on their toes, and sit down and dispose of his hands without putting them in his pockets, is an achiev ment which few boys can boast. If a boy can go so far as to measure off ten yards of tape with one of the girls, and cut it short at each end, be may stand a chance to passa pleasant evening; let him not flat ter himself that the trials of the evening are over. There comes at last a breaking up. The dear girls don their hoods, and put on their shawls, and look so saucy and mischievous, so unimpressibleand indepen dent, as if they didn’t wish anybody to go home with them. Then comes the pinch, and the buy who has the most pluck goes up to the prettiest girl in room, with his tongue clinging to the roof of his mouth, and crooking out his elbow, stammers oat the words, “Shall I see you home ?” She touches her finger to his arm, and they walk home feelingawk ward as two goslings As soon as she is at her own door, Be struts home, and really thinks be has been and gone and done it. Sleep comes on biUi at last, with dreams of Harriet and calico, and be wakes in the morning, and finds the door of life open upon him, and the pigs squealing fur breakfast. Bead an Hour a Day. There was a lad who at fourteen,was ap prenticed to a soap boiler. Okie .of bis resolutions was to read one hour a day or at least, at that rate, and he had pm old silver watch, left him by his uncle, which he timed his reading by. He wtUid seven years with his master, and said when Be was twenty-one that be knew as much as the young squire did. Now let u see how much time he had to read io, in men years, at the rate of one hour a day. ft would be twenty-five hundred and fifty-five hours, which at the rate of eight reading hours per day would be equal to 310 days; equal to weeks; equal to 11 months; nearly a year’s reading. That time spent in treasuring up useful knowledge, would |nle Up & very large store. lam sure it is worth trying for. Try what ypu can do. Begin now. In after years you will look back upon the tank as the most pleas ant and profitable you ever performed. Make a Beginning —If yoa do net begin, you will never come to the end.— The first weed pulled io die garden, the first seed set in the ground, the first shil ling put is the savings bank and the first mile traveled on a journey, nre all im portant tilings; they make a beginning, and thereby give a hope, a promise, a pledge, as assurance that you are in ear nest with what you have undertakeo.-*- How many a poor, idle, erring, hesitating outcast is now creeping his w*y through the world, who might have held up hfo head and prospered,-# instead of putting; off his resolutions of amendment and in dustry, he bad Only made a beginning-i- The feble of St. Dennis, who lifted up bin bead from the ground after decapitation, and walked away with it, Was drUWtt by Sir Joshua Reynolds, with the legdnd un derneath : “Is is but the first step whfeh is difficult.” i 1.1 i. i • .Min nma.a —•.'■!* ■*-• j The Human VoiCE.-The* sweetest music is not in tht Wutono, but in the human voice when it speaks frcmi rtS m ataet Hfb -tones of tenderness, trtrth or eeurage. The oratorio has lost its rela tion to the rooming, to the sun, to tttte earth; but that persuading twice is in tune with tbeSn. —Emtrtonu ■ ' i in' 1,1-n.j i i Tart.—Diogaws, bewg asked of whet beast the bite was moat dangerous, aw nwered, “Of wild besets, that of a slandte •RpidffviMMk hhshaltedhMsairM awho Nwt|. ■uiggxuiii | jeg'!'ij i "i ■ hi Asrtxcs WABb’B Toast.—-A+tem us Ward, being present at a celebration and exhibition, was called upon for speech, when be replied in a toast to the “phahr sex”: “Ladies, sea 1, tarnin to the beautiful femails whose presents area perphumiw the fare grownd, I hope you're enjoying yourselves on this oecaslinn, and that ieminaid and ice wottCr of which yon air drinking, may not go agin you. May you allers be as Hire as the son, as bright aA the moon, and as bntiful as any army with Union flags—also plenty of good close to wair. To your sex—commonly kawled tha pbair sex, we air indetted for our bornin, as well as many utber blessins in these low growns of sorro. Yure Ist rout her was a lady and all her dawters is ditto, and none but a lofin buss will say a word agin yu. Hopin that no waive of trubbel may ever roll akross your peaceful bresta, I konclode these remarks witk the foller in oentyment: Woman—She is a good egg. 1 *®* Rowland Hill was always annoy* ed when there happened to be any noise in the chapel, or when anything happen ed to divert the attention of his hirers from what he was saying. On one occa sion, a few days before bis death, ha waa preaching to one of the most crowded congregations that ever assembled to hear him. In the middle of his discourse he observed a commotion in the For some time he took no notice of it, but finding it increasing, he paused ia his sermon, and looking in the direction in * which the confusion prevailed, he ex claimed : “What’s the matter there ? The devil teems to have got among yon.” “No, sir, it ain't the devil as is doing it; it’s a fit lady wot's fainted, and she is a very fat’un, sir, as don’t seem likely to come to again in a hurry.” “Oh, that’s it, is it?” observed Mr. Hill, drawing his hand across bis chin, then I beg the lady's ptrdon—end the devil’s too.’’ — ■*.—a . “More Hat.”—An old gentleman who was always bragging how folks used to work in his younger days, one day chal lenged his two sons' to pitch on a load of bay as fast as he could load it. The chal lenge was accepted, the bay wagon driven round and the trial commenced. For sente time the old man held his own very cred itably, calling Fay!” Thicker aud faster it came. The old man was nearly covered; still be kept sryisg, “More bay! more bay I” At leggtfe, struggling to keep on top of the ill-arrang ed heap, it began first to roll, then to slide, and at last off it went from the wagon, and tbe old man with it. “What are you down here for?” cried the boy 4. -“I came down after hay I” answered the eld man stoutly. . ■ ■ SußtifctK.—The maiden Wept, And 1 said, “Why Weepes* thobT She an swered not, neither did she speak, and t said again, “Why weepcst thoa, four maidenf* 1 '' ” ‘ ' 1 She turned her teatful eyes on wit awf said— ~ “Whites that toyduf Mind youroWh businsse." ‘A 1 • rTh ; ' - • >• ■.! ... 4- , , mr “Look here, you boy, you’re an noying roe very much,” said aaarvbaa eld gentleman to an nrcfaiu who was rownehing -candy with an infiaita gwate at the theatre toeotber evening. “No, L ain’t, ndtht m&. returned the little urehto, “I’m a gnawing this ’ere honk o”lasses candy.” turf >•<!. ■iirt’i'i-ti '.'.itKinw i i**. a at i t m u l really cenoet sing, air,” wee m WPll o|f , yo*tog- gifl to tow repeated request ef weep Ply top. “I am rather inclined to believe, *,” rejoined he mJ* tf* l oew Jph in •** a afcWfew ’I ' ''