Newspaper Page Text
T H E trinity journal IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY M () R M X G , BY SEAMAN & GORDON. H. J. SEAMAN, D. E. GORDON, Editors and Proprietors. Office oil Main St. nearly opposite St. Charles Hotel. Terms.—The Journal will be furnished to sub scribers at the following rates': For one year $10 00 “ six months 5 00 “ three mouths 3 00 Advertisements conspicuously inserted on the following terms : One square, first inssrtion $4 00 For each subsequent insertion 2 00 fffct~ A square consists of Ten lines, or less. A reasonable reduction from the above rates will be made to yearly advertisers. BOOK & J< >1 i PR I NT INC1. Having recently made large additions to our stock of JOliltIXO .H iTl'. ltl.l t.S, we are now prepared to execute every description of in the best style of the art, and with promptness and despatch. Orders from abroad for Advertising or Jon Printing, to ensure prompt attention, should in all cases be accompanied with the Cash. Fasliioiiafoie Street Sweepers. HV “ L'NCl.E JOE.’’ Splashing through the gutters, Trailing through the luire, Mud up to the ankles And tv lei tie higher ; Little boys uproarious ’Cause you show your feet —. Illess me ! this is glorious Sweeping down the street. Bonnet on the shoulders. Nose up to the sky, Both hand Cull of Uouncesj Raised a la Shang-/tigA , Underskirts bespattered, Look amazing neat, All your silks get watered” Sweeping down the street. Street-sweep at the crossing, Says you spoil her trade, Guesses you're the patent Street-sweep ready made ; Gives you a slight jostle, While she joins your suite — Gracious what a bustle Sweeping down the street. Heaps of dirt and ilehris Close behind you trailing ; Joker says “ wet dry-goods Make first rate ntai/iiiy Straws, cigar stumps “ catch it,” And augment the fleet; Goodness what a freshet Sailing down the street! If men admire such fashions I wish to Heaven they'd try 'em, And •• darn alt the expense /” We'll agree to buy ’em ; They float our understanding, They fetter fast our feet, ’Till we’re not left a hand, en Passant through the street. Oh ! what’s the matter, Oodey? Oh! what's the matter, Graham ? Are blooming girls so plenty That you must try to slay 'em ? When will you give the Mourner , With a new French name to Jit } If yc love the lair, don’t doom her So long to sweep the street! Mks. Lucy Stone. —The editor of the Day ton Journal, says ; “ Having seen the lady’s name registered at the Phillips House, us 'Miss L. Stone,’ we ventured to inquire if she desired to be addressed as ‘ Miss Lucy Stone, or Lucy Stone Blackwell, as the papers sometimes designated her.’ ‘ I call myself Mrs. Luey Stone, sir,’ was the gracious reply.” To which the Boston I'ost adds : " Well, that will do ! We don’t offer ‘ Mrs. Lucy’ our hat, for she has doubtless got one of her own, to match her breeches ! W omen’s rights, forsooth ! Where we should like to know, are Mr. Blackwell’s rights ?— What is to be the name of the children ?— Stone, of course. Hard lor the babies — hard for Blackwell—hard allround. This 1 comes of that “ marriage under protest,” which, so fur as the husband is concerned, turns out a solitary sort of thing—a mere “ Blackwell’s Island,” so to speak. Heaven help him.” Relationship. —A Hoosier girl stepped on board a steamboat as she was lying at a certaiu town on the Ohio river, and bawled out: “ Is the captain aboard ?” The captain who was standing among the crowd, responded : “ Yes. What do yon want with him ?” “Oh; nothing particular, lie's a distant relation of miue, and I’d like to see him.” “ A relation of yours ?” inquired he, some what surprised. “ Yes, a slight, relation. He’s the father of my first child.” You’d better believe the captain sloped, while the crowd enjoyed the sport to their hearts' eo.^ eu^- — IIe who is passionate u«- f l hasty is gener ally honest. It is your cool dissembling hyp ocrite of whom you should beware. "'1 here’s no deception iu a bull dog.” It is only the cur that sneaks up aud bites you when back it turned. Bexecia, uy a Lady Critic.— The school ' girls of Beuccia arc allotted a quiet corner of the Solano County Herald, where weekly appear their juvenile effusions, one of which is herewith subjoined. The lines jingle along as merrily as sleigh bells : “I suppose you're all acquainted with this city of the Strait ; ’tis the city of attraction within this golden State. And, if you don’t 1 believe it, you’d better come and see, for you cannot elsewhere in the State find a more merry set. The city is extensive, lying on ! the bay, and all the river steamers are oblig ed to pass this way. It contains the ancient eapitol, also a weekly press, and the news that here is published might possibly be less. The hills are green and beautiful, though shade trees we have none to beautify our city here, or shade us from the sun. We’ve win dy days in plenty, and sometimes, I’ve heard say, a rocking like an earthquake, doth chance to pass this way. Facilities for learn ing we’ve plenty now-a-days, and here are forty lasses gay to lead in wisdom’s ways.— ! And in the way of churches, here is one, two, three or four, and we are blessed with two hotels, with now and then a store. The I people of Benecia have high hopes that in time, its name will be both celebrated in poetry and rhyme. They think that soon the steam horse with iron sinew strong, with mountain treasures laden will pass our streets along. And as ’tis now in theory the city of the Strait, ’twill soon be so in practice, the center of the State. Now, don’t think T am boasting, and rank its merits high, but in point of beauty the State we can defy.— And school girls here as merry as any where you’ll find, who are seeking golden treasures from the store-house of the mind. And with teachers pleasant, as’tis our lot to have, I'm sure ’twill be a wonder if each one don’t im prove. Now, after what I’ve told you, can i you with truth deny that Benecia is ns im portant as any place near by ? ’Tis true ’tis not as great as San Francisco quite ; yet tis the most important point on this our no ble Strait Bf.autiitl, Extract. —The following waif, afloat on the ‘sea of reading,’ we clip from an exchange. We do not know its pater nity, but it contains some wholesome truths, beautifully set forth: ‘ Men seldom think of the gretit events of death until the shadow falls across their own path, hiding forever from their eyes the traces of the loved ones whose living smile j was the sunlight of their existence. Heath: is the great antagonist of life, and the cold thought of the tomb is the skeleton of all feasts. We do not Want to go through the dark valley, although its passages may lead to paradise; and, with Charles Lamb, we do not w ant to lie dow n in the muddy grave, even w ith kings and princes for our bed fel lows. But the fiat of Nature is inexorable. There is no appeal of relief from the great law which dooms us to dust. We flourish and we fade as the leaves of the forest, and the flow'er that blooms and withers in a day has not a frailer hold upon life than the mightiest monarch that ever shook the earth with his footsteps. Generations of men ap pear and vanish as the grass, and the count less multitude that throngs the w orld to-day, will to-morrow disappear as the footsteps on the shore. 1 In the beautiful drama of Ion, the in stinct of immortality, so eloquently uttered by the death-devoted Greek, finds a deep response in every thoughtful soul. When about to yield his young existence as a sac rifice to fate, his beloved Clemanthc asks if they shall not meet again, to which he re plies: ‘I have asked the dreadful question of the hills that look eternal—of the clear I streams that flow forever—of the stars, among whose fields of azure my raised spirit hath w alked in glory. All were dumb. But while 1 gaze upon thy living face, 1 feel there is something in the love that mantles : through its beauty that cannot wholly per ch. We shall meet again Clemanthc.’ Somb one Bays that low-neck drosses have reached their height. The fellow must have been standing on hie Lead when he tooa ob $.tr ,r 8tioab. DEVOTED TO THE INTERESTS OF TRINITY COUNTY. WEAVEllViLLE, T HIM TV COUATY, CAL, SATURDAY 31 011 MAT!, 31 AY 3. 1S5R. LAMENT OF THE WIDOWED INEBRIATE liY It VIC ON W. SYYRR. I'm thinking on thv smile, Mary— l'tiy bright anil trusting smile— In the morning of our youth and love, E'er sorrow came, or guile : When your arms were twined about ray neck. And my eyes looked into thine, And the heart that throbbed for tne aluue, Was nestling close to mine. I see full many a smile. Mary. On young lips beaming bright; And many an eye id' light and love Is Hashing in my sight. Hut the smile is not for my poor heart, And the eye is strange to me— And loneliness comes o’er my sou), When memory turns to thee! I'm thinking on the night, Mary, The night of grief and shame— I> hen with drunken ravings on my lips, To thee 1 homeward came ; Oh ! the tear nas in your earnest eye, And your bosom wildly heaved. Vet a smile of love was on your cheek, Though your heart was sorely grieved! Hut the smile soon left your lips. Mary, And your eye grew dim and sad ; For the tempter lured my steps from thee, And the wine cup drove me mad ; From your cheek the rosea quickly lied, And your ringing laugh was gone, Vet your heart still fondly clung to me, And still kept trusting on. Oh ! my words were harsli to thee, Mary, For the wine cup made me wild : And I chid thee when your eyes were sad, And 1 cursed you when you smiled ; God knows 1 low d thee even then, Hut the lire \\ as in my brain, And the curse of drink was in my heart, To make my love a bane. ’Twas a pleasant home of ours, Mary, In the spring-time of our lifts— When I looked upon your sunny lace, And I proudly culled you wife And Twus pleasant when our children play'd Before our cottage door ; But the children sleep with tliee. Mary I ne'er shall see them more! Tliou'r! resting in the church yard now, And no stone is at thy head But the sexton knows a drunkard's wife Sleeps on that lowly bed ; And lie says the hand of (iod, Mary, Will fall with crushing weight On the wretch who brought your guileless lift To its untimely fate ! Hut he knows not. ol the broken heart I bear within my breast ; Or the heavy load of vain remorse 'flint will not let me rest ; He knows not of the sleepless nights, When dreaming of your love, 1 seem to see your angel eyes Look coldly from above! 1 have raised the wine-cup in my hand, And the wildest strains I've sung, Till the laugh of drunken mirth, The echoing air has rung ; Hut a pale and sorrowful lace has looked From mil the cup on me, And a trembling whisper 1 have heard That I fancied came from thee l Thou art slumbering in thy peaceful grave, And thy sleep is dreamless now— Hut the seal ot never-dying grief Is mi thy mourner's brow ; And mV heart is chill as thine, Mary, For I lie joy s of life are lied, For I long to lay my aching breast With the cold unii silent dead! A Happy Uosii:. — in n liu]>|iy lioinc there will l»e no fault - finding, no overbearing spirit — there will lie no peevishness, no t’rctl’ul ness. Uukindiicss will not dwell in the heart or be on the tongue. Oh, the tears, the sighs, the wasting of life and health, and strength and time of all that is most de sired in n happy home, occasioned merely by unkind words. The celebrated Mr West ley, remarked to (Ids effect, namely that fret ting and scolding and complaining seemed like touring the flesh from the bones, and that we have no more right to bo guilty of this than we have to curse, or swear, or steal. In a perfectly happy home all sclfish nuss will be removed, liven as ‘Christ pleased not himself,’ so the members of a happy home will not seek lirsl to please themselves, but to please eneli other. Cheerfulness is unolher ingredient in a happy home. I low much does a sweetness emanating from a heart lilhd with love and kindness contribute to make a home happy. How attracting, how soothing is that sweet cheerfulness that is borne on the countenance of a wife and mother. How the parent and child, brother and sister, the mistress and servant, dwell with delight on those cheer ful looks, those confiding smiles that beam from the eye, and burst from the inmost soul of those who are near and dear. llow it hastens the return of the father —lightens the care of the mother—renders it more easy for youth to resist temptation, and drawn by the cords of affection, how it induces them with loving hearts to return to the parental roof. Oh, that parents would lay this subject to heart, that by untiring efforts they would so far render home happy, that their chil dren and dome-ties shall not seek for hap piness in forbidden paths. Hkavtikit., — There is a sentiment as beau tiful as just in the following lines ; “ lie who forgets the fountain from which he drank, and the tree under which he gam boled in the days of his youth, is a stranger to the sweetest impressions of the human heart. Houers.tuk I’of.t.—Mr. lingers mention ed that the best note lie ever received was from an American lady, who, being asked to breakfast with him, wrote—“ Won't 1 — Certainly it war expressive brevity • Sea Sickness. —The very thought of a sea-voyage makes the gorge of many a "Wes tern ‘lubber’ rise. They may have braved the arrows and tomahawks of the tribes of the wilderness—faced the whirlwinds of the sandy desert, grappled, ■hand-to-hand,’ with the ferocious gri/zlv, and defied the death dealing rattlesnake, whose fangs ‘out-venom all the worms of Mile,’ —they may have en countered all these, and tlie thousand other dangers incident to the voyage of the 'Plums across,’ and experienced no terror; but as the time comes for them to return to their old homes by sea, it is then that their cour age undergoes a trying ordeal--then that perturbation comes over the spirit that never before knew fear. They have complacently witnessed the gloomy forest swaying amid the howling blast, and slept soundly despite the Hashing of the ‘oak-cleaving lightning,’ but the idea ot being tossed upon the angry billows of old Ocean, with only a plank as the dividing line between ‘time and eternity,’ is not at all a pleasant one to the match ts of ‘Prairie clippers,’ while the regions of Tophet do not suggest to the repenting sin ner half the horrors and tortures that sea sickness does to him who has never ventured further from land than the crossing of a mill pond. We have frequently heard of in land adventurers’ coming to this city for the pur pose of taking passage by the steamer, but in crossing the bay when it has happened to be a little rough, were so sickened at the thought of what, they would have to go through at sea, that they have put back to the mountains, swearing that while there Was a mule to be had upon which to ‘ride across the country,’ they would never tres pass upon the possessions of old Neptune. I As we have more than once ‘braved the dangers of the sea,’ and know something of ‘life on the ocean wave,’ wo feel capable of giving a few wholesome ‘points’ to the out ward bound sons of ‘Old Pike’ who so much dread the miseries of sea sickness—and if observed by therti, they may enter upon the voyage armed in proof against the dread destroyer ofappetites and and peaceful slum bers. Here are the ‘points:’ ‘1st, Don’t go on board fasting, but avoid eggs ami greasy gravy with wlmt youeat 2d. Don’t lay hold of what you are sitting upon, and hold on, and opening your mouth to draw in cold air, ejaculating ‘Oh,’ but keep your head straight, and fix your attention on some object on a level with your sight, so tlnil your body will bo balanced, and not bob around with each ‘send’ oftlic ship; you will gel accustomed to the ship alum I di rectly. lid Take some good w ell made gin gerhread in your pocket, and now and then chew a small portion; by t bis means you w 111 keep the stomach and throat w arm, and you will find it infinitely better than the miser able brandy you cun purchase on board.’ t initial lira Anecdote ok (Jin. Jack. son.— At the southwest, tlie people delight to spin yarns of Gen. Jackson; ol his daring love of jus tice, mid the prompt way of administering ‘that article,’ when he found it. necessary. I wnson the Missi-- ippi last .summer, when I heard the following story which never hav ing seen in print, I send you for the benefit of the readers of the Spirit of the 'Times. The (Jenerul, then Judge Jackson, was holding court—long time ago in ashantee at a little village in Tennessee anil dispen sing justice, in large and small doses, as seemed to him to be required in the ease be fore him. One day during court, a great bullying feilow armed with pistols and bowie knife, took it upon himself to parade before the sliuntee (,’ourt House and d n the Judge, Jury, and all there assembled, in good set terms. ‘ .Sheriff,’ sung out the Judge, in an awful tone, ‘arrest that man for contempt of (,‘ourL and confine him.’ tint goe-> the Sheriff, but soon "returned with the word to the Judge that he had found it impossible to take the offender. ‘Summon a posse, then,’ suid the Judge, ‘and bring him before me!’ The Sheriff put out again, but the task w as too difficult; he could not, or dared not lay his hands on the man, nor (lid any of the possec like the job any better than he did, as the fellow threatened to shoot the fir I, ‘skunk’ that come within ten feet of him. At this, the Judge waxed wrathy, to have his uithorily put at defiance before all the good people of the vicinity, so he cried out from the bench, (it was literally a bench,) ’Mir. Sheriff, since you can’t obey my orders, summon me, yes sir, summon me!’ ‘ You, Judge!’ exclaimed the Sheritl amazed. ‘ Yes me, summon me! IJy the Eternal, I’ll ecc what I caa do!’ ♦ ' Well Judge, if you sav so, though 1 don’t like to do it, hut if you will try, why L sup pose I must summon you.’ ‘Very well,’ said Jaekson, rising nnd walking to the door, 'ladjouru the court ten ; minutes.’ The ruffian was standing a short distance j from the rhautee, in tiie centre of a crowd of ! people, blaspheming at a terrible rate and nourishing his weapons, vowing death and destruction to all and singular who should attempt to molest him. Judge Jaekson walked very calmly into the centre of the group, with pistol in his hand, and confronted him- — ‘ Mow,’said he, looking him straight in the eye, 'surrender you infernal villiau, this very instant, or by the Eternal, I'll blow you through!' The man eyed the speaker for a moment, without speaking, and then let fall his wea pons, with the words: ‘There, Judge, it's no use, 1 give in,’ and suffered himself to be led off by the Sheriff without opposition, lie was completely cowed. A few days after the occurrence, the man was asked why he knocked under to one man, when he had before refused to allow hinself to be taken by a whole company; and this reply showed the estimation in which tle> daring and determined spirit of Jaekson was held throughout the country. ' Why,’ said he, ‘when he came up, 1 looked him in the eye, and by , 1 saw shunt and there wasn’t shoot in nary other eye in the crowd, and so 1 says to myself, says 1 boss, its about time to sing small — and so I did.’ 11 1 r him Auain ! A Yankee correspon dent thus addresses the /■oiii/oii 'l'tnu's: “ Wal, you licit ishers are cute ; you go on the high moral ticket. \ on call annc.vsr lion robbery and territorial aggression ; hut there ain’t a power in creation llml’s swal lowed more of other people’s country with out choking, than you have, when nobody was looking particular. And now you’re n going to light for civilization by protecting the most hurhci'ous power in Europe, and lor liberty by allying yourself with a Kroneh despot and a Mohammedan tyrant ; but, chew me if liberty ain’t a long sight better off in tiie bands of that old pi.-om Miclio- Inn, than siieli mealy iiinnllied hypocrites on understand stabbing great principles in tiie dark, you do. Liberty is all bunkum with you. If it. ain’t, what do you go scul ping and crying to all the de-pots in Europe for, a lieu you could I'ui 'c the bull continent in tin' cause of freedom, if you luid a niiiul to. W hy don't you choke oil' your privileg ed classes, and set your oppressed while nip; ! gel's tree, and give buck to the black nig gers in tiie Indies the country you’ve robbed 'em of, instead of screeching at us, and com ing over herewith your long luces,almighty juw, and iinmnitting lies about shivery and Cuba ? There’' no sin in creation your no smiled, nnd ing, bellow winded I’ui liiinii nt won’t commit, if they cun make a darn’d cent by it.” A Lawykii Noosi ii. ‘‘William, look up, and tell me who madcyoii l>o you know ?” William who wn eon iilcred a fool, screw ed In's face, and looked thoughtful and some wind hew ilili red, and slowly answ ered, ‘ Mu sen, I ’spose.” “ That will do Mow,” said counsellor (L, addressing the < 'ourt, “ the witnesssuys he supposes Mo esmnile him This certain ly is an intelligent answer. More so linin' I supposed him capable of giving, for it shows that lie has some faint idea of the Script tires, lint I submit, may it please I lie Court, that this is not sufficient to justify bis being sworn ns a witness. M'o, sir.it i not sucli an answer us a witness ipuililiril to testify should give.” “ Mr. Judge,” said the fool, “ may I ask t lie lawyer a quest ion ?” " ('ertiiinly,” said the Judge, "a.-fc him any question you please.” “ Wal, then, Mr. Lawyer, who do you Vpo. e made you ?” “Aaron, 1 ’spose,” said the counsellor,' imitating the vv it in- After the mirth laid somewhat subsided, tiie witness exclaimed “ Wall, now, we do read in the Good Hook that Aaron once made a calf, tint w lin’d a thought that the tarnal critter had got in here ?” The poor counsellor was laughed down. Tin: Hampshire ( Jazette says thut on Sun day morning the wife of Rev. C. M. Sey mour, of Wliutely, Muss., gave birth to a son and daughter, and u tew hours thereafter the reverend gentleman editied his congre gation by preaching from the text —“ Sut ler lktle children to come unto me, uud for bid them not ” Tli** Mountain Muse. W'.u'vi' is tin' miner, from Hangtown to Slum-u!- lion Guide that w ill not read the following twice overt li is from a Vallieito bard,and lias beeu iu our drawer for some time Lroidtn Kru. ora shait. We are pa-rcliiR the mountain aide. We are bound for the d pths below, For they re mu in as y t untried — So, hopefully downward we go. Through the layers of iron cement, And beds of crumbling sand. The biting pick is strongly sent By the miner's sinewy hand. Fearless we grasp the swaying line, And trust to our windlass true, For the crank is hewn from the stalwart piua That erst on the hill side grew ; For a thousand years, the sweeping storm (Iml through his green coronal sung, But still on high towered his giant form, Till tlie axe to his heart we swung. Tlie canvass that stretches above the shaft Flaunts high in the warm south wind. Anil'm ath its shade, in the full, ffee draught Is the spot that 1 love to tlml. Cheerily, O! we hoist away. Coiling tlie rope around tlie drum ; For surely, we think, this claim must pay, And hope makes tlie windlass hum. — • A Leap Year Story.— -Sain Smith sat at litnno oil New Year's iluy in dishabille. His beard was unshaven, huir uncombed, boots unblneked, uud he was leaning back in a pic turesque altitude, with a cigar in bis mouth. , Sam thought it was limp year, and bow glo rious it would be if the ladies could be in duced to pop the question, in accordance with their ancient privileges. As he sat watching " (lie smoke that so gracefully curl ed,” his I'noc glowed with the idea how de lightful it would be to Imre the dear crou lures fondling on him, and w ith tender glan ces endeavoring to do the agreeable. As he meditated his heart softened, and he began I to leel n squeamish, womanish sensibility dif fuse il.-clf over his feelings, and thought ho would faint with propriety, the first time a young lady squeezed his hand. Hup, rap, ; minded at the door—Sam peep ed through the Veiictiiui window-blinds. “ .Mercy,’’ exclaimed he, “ if there isn't Miss .lone :, and 1 in dishabille, and looking like a fright goodness gracious, 1 must go right away and fix inymH'. ’ As lie left the room, Miss Jones entered, and, u it li a composed air, Intimated thut slm would wait. Mi i Hu an Jours was a firm believer in • woman’s rights, mid now that the season was | propitious, she determined to take advan tage thereof, and do u little courting on her ; own iiceiniut. It was one of woman’s prirl* I leges, which lmd hern usurped hy the tyrant man, and lie w as determined to assert her I'i -'ht in (pile of the hollow formalities of a false s\ Ieill of society. Meantime, with a palpitating heart, Hum went through u series of personal adorn* mint The hr t twist was given to his col. Inr, the last curl to his whiskers, and, with cambric in hand, lie descended to the parlor. Mi Jones rushed to receive him, and grasp ing his hand, said 1 Dearest, how beautiful you look,’accom panying her word iwith a look of undisguised 1 admiration, ! 1 Spare the blushes of u modest young man,’said Hum, applying his cumbric to face , lo hide his confusion. ‘ Nuy, my love, why so coy?’ said Susun, ‘turn not nwuy those lovely eyes dark us jet, but sparkling as the diamond. List to the vows of fond affection. Hero let us rest,’ said she drawing him to u sofa, 'here with my arm around thee will I protest in y true ull'cetion.’ ‘ Leave me, oh leave,’ murmured Hum, ‘think of my youth, my inexperience. Spare, oh spare my palpitating heart.’ ‘ Leave thee,’ said Susan, pressing him closer to her ‘never, until the story of resi les.-, nights, of unquiet days, ot aspirations, fond emotions, and undying love is laid be fore thee Know that for years I have mir ed for thee u secret passion. Need I tell thee how much each manly bounty moved me bow I worshipped like a sun-dower in the lurid light of those scarlet tresses—how my heart was entrapped in the meshes of those magnificent whiskers—how I was wil ling to yield up to the government of that imperial. Thy maciiers—so modest, so del icate, enchanted me—joy to me—for thy joy was my joy. My heart is thine—take it, but tirst let me snatch a kiss from those ruby lips. The overw rought feelings of the delirato youth were too strong, and he fainted from excess of joy. Meanwhile the enamoured maiden hung fondly over him, and slowly the eyes of Samuel Smith opened—lie gazed wildly around him, then meeting the ardeut gaze ot his lover, he blushed deeply, and from behind his handkerchief faintly faltered out— ' A fk ro-jr V NO. 15.