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T H NORTH AND SOUTH, tthit Sfiif«E VOLUME ir. N EW BRITAIN. CONNECTICUT, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1859. T H F. f c o s a i f H : A R B ^ n b IXm jSvitain Jonrndl. R l . i n r B V R n t T T K< l l t « r, I . . ! • ! . « U K R K n i K % ' rlcl* r . WILL IIK RMOKU KVRRY SATHRDAT, Frrtw Ih* Prfntint OJw of the I'l oprti-tor. In »li» RaMmvnt ("f Ui« H«pHit Ohuich, Nsw BKltAiN. TSRMS: — $1.50 ppr nnnnnt, in Advixnoe. In bundle* of rtft* or more to one i»d(lro«*, S1.2o. Xom'Mn of N >r«i<tl unbwriblnii In «'l*aiiee ter the Tmrai, fkimfaiiisU M (he annaal rai*. «» A»»««rijni«: - K^r a liqnam, on* lM>rtioii, Tt rails, ••Mh .^lliclniiKl Iti4«rtinu, S^ Ql«. Var half a .S<( j a r e . on« InMir Uiii, 60 fwniii; (••oh aJtlltinniil (n«vrilon. IS rt(. 0>i» 3 iu*f<! f i r a y.-«r, MO. lUirSqaan Sd. BnrinaMCaHU, MiiialnlDK hA t M)twrv, |>i:<r yrar, W.UO. (Cljc S>Mx\\ (Sbcning J'ircsibt. T A K K H E A R T . BV KDNAII rROCTOB. All <?a.v the stormy wind IIHS blown From o!T the durk i»iid rainy !«e;»; >\i biixl liiw p<tst the window flown. The only douj; has iimde ihv iiKMn Tlio wind uiiide in the willow tree. This is the summer's buriivl time; She dir«l when divppfd the Ciirliist lenvcs, And cold n|)on her rosy prime f e l l down the autuuui'8 rr»«ty rime— Vel L nui nut 4.4 on.- that grieves. For well I know o'er mMuy sets The blue-bii-d vr.iit.4 tor A^iril skies; And At the naits uf turcst t r cu The VI ly^lktwors sleep in tV.igntnt ease. And ViolttCji hide their .^urv cyc:i. O th<m, by wind.'* of grief o erblown Uesid(» some }^>lden summer's bier— T.tke he.iri! thy birds ure only tlown. Thy bloHsotiis sleeping, te.^rfal sown, To greet tUvx' in the immortul yenr ! J\r. Y. Indtptndfnl. ImproTe your Tims. We should never for^t, that our lime is amongst (he talents, fur which we must give •orouiit n^^thjL b«r Qo^v Time, beitig not leMt (ireci^S M these/will b^ raqiiiKd with a strictness pn>pt>rti(iiiato to its value. Let uts tremble at the idea, as well we may. We must lie irietl uot ouly fur what we huve done, but what we had time to do, yet neglected to do ; not only tor the hours spent in sin, but for those wasted in idleness. Lot us beware of that mode «r sjHjuding time, which some call killing it, for this murder, like others, will not always be concealed ; the hours destroyed in secret, wdl appear when wo least exj)ect it, to the uns|ieak-ablo terror and amazement of our jmuls; they arise from llie dead and fly away Irom heaven, whither they might have carried better news, and there tell sad tales of us, which we shall be sure to hear of again, when we hold up our hands at the bar, and thuy shall cume as so many swift witnesses against us." It'might stir us up to dilligence in the im-provement of our time, to think how much of it lids already been mi.ss|)eni. What days, and moiitlu and years have already been utterly wasted, or exhausted upon trifles totally unwor-thy oif them. Tuey are gone, and nothing re-mains of t tem but the guilt of having mis-iin-proved them. We cannot t-all iheiu back if wu wuu.d; and ull th.\t we can do, i.<! to let their iiieiuoriul, liUe the recollection of any other dead friends, whom we treated improperly while tliev lived, lead u» tu value more highly, and to uae l u u r c kiuiiy, those that remain. Rt'f. J, A. James. AN INCIDE.VT.—A touching case was pre-senied ye>terday to the consideration and chari-ty of uiid of the tio«)J Saiiiuritaiis who now t tke cure of the siuk, relieve the destitute, Miid loud the curving. A boy was diduovered in (he morning, laying ill (he 'giU6s ol CMaibtirne Street, evidently bright aiid in(«*lligenl, but sick. A nmu who has the leeliug o( kindiieM strongly developed went (o him, :>nuok him by tbo nhoulder, and asked him what hu was doing there. " Waiting for C>IK1 (O come for me." said he. " U hat do you mean ?" said ihe gentleman, touched by the |m(he(ie tone of (he answer, and tiio (oiidinon of (he boy. in who^e eye and llii»hed htcu hu AUW the evidences of a high lover. " God sent for mother, and father and little brother," >aid he, "und took them away to his home, ill the sky and motlier told me, when she w.o ^lck, tluit Liod would take cure of ine. 1 have no home, no liody to give me anything; and so I caiiio out here, and have been looking M) long up in (he sky for iiod (o come and tua.H care uf me. as mother said he would. He will come, wou't he t Mother never (old me a lie." Yes, my lad," said (he gendeiuan, over-coinu vvi(h eino(ion ; lie has heiit mo to take oare of )ou " Vou sitoiild have seen hia eyei flaiih, and the smile of ((iumph break over lii« lace, as he said: « •• .Mother never told me a lie, sir ; but you've hetMi a lou;^ time on (he way." What a lei^n of (rust! and how it shows (he eilect of never deceiving ohildrao with idle (ties, (jod did lake care ol (he boy, by (ouch-ing (he heart of (ha( man wit'i pity. A. O. Mia. B L I N D L I T T L E BESS, Or Hilda Howes* Thanksgiving Party. Bt MISS MAIlRIBTr M. IIATIIAWAT. Never was a hnppier maiden than Hilda Howost &!< sKc flittetl hither and thither in their newly turntfihcd purlors, arranging and re«arranging the window draperios, newly diaposing the ornaments —changing the position of the ottomans and casv cliairs, hrushing away each speck of dust with a featlier duster, and carofally gathering every scrap uf ravulmgs and lint f V ^ the n«wlj-made o^irpets, singing all tlie while : "Meirily every bosom boandeth ! Merrily Ug lUtrrilj U !" in a manner that at onoe asmircd one that her heart kept time to tlio luusio of her lips. Hilda, love, what is all th«t noise about T" queried her father, as ho looked laughingly iu at the door. " U, father, come in—come in, an-l see if ever parlors looked prettier than ours. See ! I have put on all the finishing touches and am ready to receive callers, so be seated at onoo on the sofa." ** Ah, I uuuersuiid you, Hilda! I suppose that Thanksgiving Party is the next feature in the program me." " Ves, father," replied Hilda, demurely, as she drew an ottoma* dircclly before him, " tliat is the business before the meeting." " Woil, we iniytht as well procecd and have it settled forthwith. I suppose what u to be will be." "Then you give your consent, father?'' " 1 see no loop-hole for escape, and so yield." " Jiut father, L will uot urge it if you at all prefer it otherwise." " A'o—no Htldit! you have been a good, duti-ful daughter, and it gives nio pleasure to grunt your reaaonuiile request. And now here is a tri-lie to help to ' Uetray expense.^,' tor i supposo there must be some uttac led to so important a scheme as a • Thanksgiving I'arty.'" " O, fattier, two dtiy dollar bills ! It is too much—jdcxso take one of them." " darliiis;, kee^i liieni both ; you've no idea how little a hundred dollars will do, what with getting a silK dress (as your mother tells nie you wish to) and laoes and slippers and ribbons and all that sort ot loshioiiable tluinmery." " Well, father, as yiiu please, but I am quite sure i shall not apena it u( all; indued, I do uot thmk it would be right for me to. It troubles uie now, to think how I shall lepay you for all." "There—Uiere, Hilda, no set speeches, but come and ki-s me, and be us good u girl as yuu have been, and 1 shall bo satialied." Hilda threw her anus lovingly aronnd him and pressed her lips uiton his brow, where wrinklee were gathermg, and on his brown cheek. There was a huuiid light m his eyes as he returned her embrace, inurinurin^ : " lieaveu bless my dar-ling girl!" iSo sooner hud her father left, than Hilda danced up suirs to her room, and seating herself at bur small writing ublu, sue drew Iroiu it souio delicately perfutueu and tinted note paper, and ijoon her sinall wuito hand was Hitting over it as rapidly as a huumimg bird's motion, when ex-tracting sweets froui the rose or honeysuckle. The notes at last were all punue«l but one, and now Hilda paused aud bluaiiod a little, just u very little, out still it was disuurnable, and Hilda knew It, and reproved herself tor the miaduniean-or by soltly saying : " W hat a very silly girl I am!" Then ^ne strove to be more collected, took up her pen in a luauuer intended to be digiiitied, and bent, over thu unat^tued paper bvloic her. iiut no—.she wa's not ready yei; a small ."lip of paper was taken and a name vvrittun which read, *• i)r xXorinau \\ ilder !'* and now that the iiaiuo was ill black aud Willie betbi'u liec »he regained ccurage, took the uolu paper abd penned tne in-vilaliuit, and tbeu witb a Mgh uf relief siie drop-ped It into tlie baaKet, saying : '* Taere, i niii glad to have the businesa of writing invitations (itf uiy mind. Tu bu sure there was no iiumedt-ato buir), as it will bu moru than a week trom now lo 'ruaiikAgiviug, but 1 like to be in season. Hut 1 buiicxe 1 am a litilu v\eury. liut lue hec— 1 have WiUiun mure tlian three hours. 1*11 take a wutk to i>..aiu Orattun'a atl^r umner, and (hat will roat uic. Tour IttUtf ii.Mi, I've nut »uou her tor a week !" Ln pursuaiicu with her resolve, after dinner Hilda uonued ber ctreet attire, aud bent hersiepb in (lie directiuu of iiame Urafton's humble cot-tage. abe pauaed, when witbin a short dibtanco (u watch iicM, wlio had seated berself on tiUB(e|w appareutly lo enjoy iiiu warm sunsliine, for lliough laie in .^ovembvt, ibo alteruoon was more like eiirly Uctobci. Tiio child siit witli her djlicate llanos ola."'ped, aud her large, mourntul eyes btrained upwards, as though ane was wildly atri-vmg to atloii ouu glim^tso of ttto bjautifm blue Hky above her. iier long, Haxen curls hud fall-en back from her aingu.arly transparent brow, revealing the ext|uiBito ouutour ot tier leatures. Hilda atole noiButo^sly along to where bhe was bitting. Juat as she reached her, a.i exprcasiou ot hopoleas uuguuh swept over her young lace, and bowing hur head upon her bosoiu, stie mur-mured : •• Jfes, I am blind—O, I am blind 1 I sha 1 uevur, never soe thu beautiiul blue aky, nor tbu Holt uioon, uor the protty twinkling stars, nor the sweet tlowers! O, if 1 uould die!" •• said Hilda, aotlly, tor she oould not bear to witneas the child's distress longer. " I), Hilda-—dear Hilda, is it you? U, I am •0 glad yuu have oome, for I was a I raid uiy lieart wa» breaking! It is better now ; but Hilda, you do uot kuuw vhat it is to li« bliud. For a year 1 have come out here every day when 1 knew the Mill was brightust. A( fir^t I wuld just see thu snn, but it has kept growing darker and darker, nnd to-day, Hilda, though f know it is shining as h r i g h ^ as ever, it is i l l night to me." Poor Hilda! how the IdiigM to breathe one word of hope In the ear of tno blind girl, but she saw nothing to justify her in doing tnas, and so sho sat on tho stop by her side, her tears falling fast nnd silently apon the little hand nestling in her own. At length Bess i^id quietly: •• Did yoa ever think yok .would lik« to die, Hilda?" 1 . " No, Bess, dear, I do erer Hid." " Well I do, very, very ask God to take tne to lirtf Hilda, I shall not be a bli I was asking Him to take looking up into the sky. Ji it wrong, Hilda ?, because if it is I will try %ait patiently; btit O, it is so dark—so Ion Hilda was still too moi oomfort the child, so sh« fragrant flowers, and said see Dame Grafton. t " I will stay here a litt^ while, for grand moth-er will bo sad when she 8<iN niy little sober fuoe. I never let her know hoi| ba<]ny 'I fbel, Hilda, should you ?" r Hilda entered tho cotton, hoping to find some-thing cheering, but, to heifaurprise, Dame Graf-ton was bending ovcf lip work with teurtul eyes. " Why, grandmother, expected to find you all look as though you have cry," ns people say. > and sometiiMt I Too itcle girl ii|^H«ren. lOon when I was to be blind!" ined to attempt to led her % bocfnet of would run in and "taclaimed Hilda, •• I les, as usual, but you having a "real good chil« to th< that see you, dear, for if |:to give me comfort it n blind little Bess I lis stone blind now, and )ur it and be patient, sip for it. But just something must hap- I than ever. You see, iild was out on the Dking up tho bits of ^d blown into the grass, Dg gentleman coming he stoppod and look- *e to her eyes, and so Then he beckoned werq. out qf on ask'iiig "me all Ah, liil da, I am anybody can speak a is you. It is all for am troubling. Tho Pd made up my mind as I thought there was 1 as I got sort of reooneil pen to inako me feel wi day before ycpterday, door steps, and I was chips and dry stuff when I saw a nice along. When he saw ed at her, put his faco stood two or three to mo, and I followed Boas5e*s heating, ai> sorts of questiofls about her, and BnalIy"ho finish edoff with saying, 1 think the child might be curcd, for it is a sort of cataract.'" I thiuk that was what he said. I was so flustered like, I did not know what to say, and so I said nothing But ho gave me this here little slip of paper, and said if we wanted to see him there's where we'd find him," " Did you osk him how much it would cost?" said Hilda. " O, yes, I asked just that, and he snid some-thing about fifty or a hundred dollars. Now, Hilda, child, this is what makes me sick—sick at heart. Pve tried and tried to think of some way to raise the money, but it's all of no uso, and to-day I have given up all hopes of over doing it." It was evening, aud Hil^ was seated in her chamber. Tho basket oirataining the invitation curds" stood beforo her, and in her hand lay the two fifty dollar bills. It was evident that a strong, serious struggle was going on in her mind. Sho took up one note after another, glanced at its oontcntd and let it |^tll into tho basket. At last she had the one she was hourching for. It was the one addresse-l to Dr. Norman Wilder !"— Sho looked at it long and earnestly. No—no." she exolaimedy " I cannot give it up ! It will my only chance of becoming better acquainted with him, as ho leave.< town next week. Then Lilian Worth will have a party if I do not huve mine, and will stand a better chance of winning notice from him than I shall. The girls say they thought his attentions equally divided between Lilian and myself, but 1 Uiuught there was little more heart in his notice of me ! But Lilian is so uiuch more brilliant and beautiful than myself, beaides being an heiress, thut I think that if either of us win the noble stranger, it will bo her. No —no—I must not give up having my party—but dear littlo Besa—yes-rryw! 1 will ! so here ~o the notes—Dr. Norman Wilder and all, into tho fire, and thus ends uiy Thanksgiving party." Doubtless my readers have premised what was Hilda's motive in giving up her iiiiticipated pleas-ure ; and now thut it was decidcd in her mind, there wera no doubts—no rupinings over her dis-appointment— for disappointiHf'nt it was. " Kuthcr," she said, us hhe followed him from the breukfaat room thu following morning, " I wish to talk with you a inoinont." Well what now, Hilda!" said Mr. Howes, •inoothm;! her brpwn hair from her fori*head.— Did you find oue hundred dollars did not defray your shopping exi>enses yuHt«rday ?" " O, no, father, nothing of (bat sort; but I just want to ask you if I may do as I please with the money you gave mu Y" Of course, love. 1 have no wish to dictute you in this matter; but what put thia idea iuto your head ?" " Do nut ask me, father! I have a very good reason for asking, and you will know it some tiuie, but uot now." " Well, (hat is a sUrange freak, surely ! What can the girl mean ? I never saw her more anx-ious abou( a thiug than she has been about thut party. Women and fprls are alike Inexplicable;" aud here Mr. Howea iett the house no wiser tor his soliloquy. When Lilian Worth beard thai Hilda Howes' party was uot tq couio oif, sho at once issued cards ot invitation, as Hilda had premised. A very brilliant affair it was to be, raid the young ladies, and for a week it made busy tongues nnd busy hands. Hilda, though often importuned as to her roRSons for giving up her anticipated party, kept her own oounsel. Hilda called to seethe celebrated oocnlist, nnd found him qnite sanguine in his belief of restoring sight to blind little Bess. He informed her that he should wish the child in the house with him daring the operation, and for a week or two after-wards i and added, i^o most haTO a cheerful fe-her. a p i i y . ••• fcr Bees lo y W i ™ i * | l t t i i g , IMV hroKtlied « low. eigh of aisappointment. ibr she saw this would prevent her attending Lilian Worth's party, nnd thus sho shonld lose her last opportunity of meet-ing with Dr. Norman Wilder. It was ThanksgiTing evening, and Mr. Worth's parlors were brilliantly lighted, and gay and hap-pv girls were gathering to enjoy the anticipated pleasure that those meetings ever bring. There were joyous gushes of laughter, strains of mu.'^io, feet tripping through the mazes of the dance, sal-lies of wit, brilliant repartee, and all the many pleasant littlo things that oonspiro to make these social gatherings so delightful. While all this was going on, Hilda Howes was keeping watch in a darkened chamber, over tho little suffering Bess. The operation had been performed and the doctor hud pronounced it successful. Did Hilda for a moment regret the sacrifice she had made 7 Far from it. Never had she been so deeply happy in her life. Dr. Norman Wilder was all attention during tho evening and all joined in thinking that be had quite forgotten unpnretending Hilda Howe, now that ho was thrown more in the society of the far more beautiful Lilian Worth, and it was even so. His mind was about made up to prosecute his attentions in that quarter, and once or twice when left lor a moment with Lilian, ho had almost made confession of his deep interest in her. Towards the latter part of the evening, ho said to Lilian, •• How happens it that I do tiot see your friend, Miss Hilda llowo, present this eve-ning ?•' •• O, I can hardly toll," replied Lilian, she is so full of strange ideas. Something ubout a blind child—[ do not just know what. Hilda is a nice girl and I love her, but she is forever look-ing up some little forlorn, needy thing, and neg-lecting her friends and her own duties to help thorn. I think her tusk in such matters raih^. Im. Ttiere are provisions made for those who cannot take care of themselvo.s, and I see no nc-ce. ssity for our mixing ourselves up with them." There was a slight bitterness in tho tone of fjilian's voice, and it was evident for tho inoinent, tliat Normin Wilder was pained; but he soon forgot it all in the bewitching fascinations of his fair companion. •• Father," said Norman Wilder, Jr., as he sat in their olHoc at the P Hotel, " what was it you said yesterday about having performed un operation upon thu eyes of a Mind girl ?" " Well, Norman, 1 said I was about to do so, and I did, and it proved highly successful. By-thc- by, I would like to have you visit my patient, a.s I .am about to give her*a call. She has tho swectust young lady for an attendant thut I ever saw—so tjlioorful, so so If-possessed during the op-crution, (for t could not prevail upon her to leave) and withui, so ladylike. Last night I went to cull on the patient's grandmother, to tell her that I thought her little liess would see again, and found out tho story. It soortis this yonng lady had the promise of hiivin;^ a Tlianksgiving party, and her father had supplied her with fuiiil.-», and she had goiio so far us to write her curds of invi^ tatioii, when sho heard thut if means only could bo found, her blind littlo friend might have her sight restored. S) what doe.^ tho noble girl d) but forego her anticipated enjoyment, that the child might have the benefit ol mi operation. All this tho old lady told me, and the young lady lit-tlo dreams that I huve her secret in my keejiing. I tell you she is a woman of a thousand, nnd 1 would be proud to call her daughter, Norman, my boy!" Hilda wus sitting by Boss, reading softly feom Mrs. Hoinan's poem\ when the door opened, and Dr. Wilder entered, followed by his sou. Hilda looked up, and as l^er eyea met those of the younger gentleman, the warm blood mounted to her tem-ples, while Norman, with an air of surprise, ex* tended his hand, oxulaiining : " Miss Hilda Howes ! is it possible that I have tho pleasure of meeting VQU here 7" Poor Hilda was deeply embarrassed. Mu^t it not $een\ to hiui that sho had purposely thrown herself in his way, nnd if so, how uninuideiilike sho must airpear to him. She know the moment they entered, thut tho kind doctor who so great-ly interested himself m Bes:<, and the young Dr. Wilder, were father and son. Strange that she had not discovered it in some way before—but so it wus. Sho hud not evon heard the nauie of Dr. Wilder, tho older Sho seemed quite overwhelmed with niortifioation, and tho doctor observing it took pains to turn tho attention of them both to his patient. Time would full to tell us of the joy of Dame Urufton, us, day.by-day, she received more cheer-ing accounts from her durling licss, and it wculd also fail us to tell of the many pleasant hours thut Hilda Howes passed in tho oornpauy of Dr. Nor-man Wilder, Jr., during thu stuy at the hotel.— P.ut the time passed away, as ull pleasant us well us sorrowful times will, aud Hilda found herself at home; and Bess, still improving, was restored to her overjoyed grandmother. Header, shall i sUy luy pen here, or will you be better satisfied with uiy story, if 1 glunce over a year and give you the conclusion, instead of leaving you lo uicture it. Somehow I thought when I oommenced this, it should uot bo a loot NUMBER 14. Story, but love has stolen in ns natural here in those pages ns it does into our lives, and sol will tell you all I know of tho affair. It is Thanksgiving evening again, and Mr. Howes' parlors are brilliantly lighted, and the guests already arc dteenibled, among whom occu-pying a conspicuous position, ore Domo Grafton, in her new glossy silk, and little Bess—no lonjrcr blind! The principal aotors in the drama of the ovening, aro Dr. Norman Wilder and his newly made bride—now no longer Hlldh Howes. Now reader, I baVe told you alt about the way it oame p t t i tlMl Hilda H o i ^ ' Thankigiving pmip ended in a Thanksgiving loedding ! Funeral of Judson J. Hutchinson. The funeral of Judson J. Hutchinson took place at Lynn, Tuesday. A correspondent of the Journal writes: " His name is linked in memory by the goldfn chain of melody with many hearts all over the lond. His work is done. His song has ceased, and now the .snows of winter cover his form, and memory recalls while friendship and sympathy cherish the true and noble heart that has stilled its beat forever. A nature touched to finest issues treads its diz-ly pathway quite near the borders of mental dis-easo. Genius" and insanity seem sometimes to be nearly allied. I would offer neither eulogy or unfeeling criticism, yet, as a friend, say what I feel, that a true heart, which bent in strong pul-ses of love for the suffering and oppressed, should have the benefit of charity and kind remembranee, as one not to be judged by the common rules Ve apply to those whoso current of life rum at a lower level. His remains were taken to the Granite State, he loved so well, as the home of his childhood, and the inspiration of his song, there to be bur-ied with his fathers at Milford. Throngs of peo-ple came yesterday to mingle theSr silent sympa-thies with the sorrow of the bereaved family, and tho faithful and true wife who has clung to Jud-son in weal and wo, and watched him as she would a child for years, when clouds were passing over the snn of bis mental life. As we stood in the house he had built, over-looking the country for miles airouod, and saw what he loved so well, and beheld upon the walls the pictures he loved to gaze upon, among them that of Wendell Phillips, Parker, and other men of mark, we could read out on tho very walls and landscape some pages of his deepest and truest life. Pitying hearts aod strong hands have done the offices of churity, friendship and love; and one voice of true melody is hushed now. All the day before lie died, ho was singing a piece which commences thus— "Hark, I hear an nngel sing; Angels now are on the wing; And their voices slnginj; clear, Tell us that thu spring u uenr." Appropriate religious services were performed by a friend, tho Rev. M. W. Willis of Nashua. What rendered the sorvico peculiarly affecting was the singing by tho Hutchinson family, us it were, the requiem of the departed brother. Ir was meet that ho whose life was a song, should have kindred voiccs linger in solemn ochocs around his grave."' How COFFKE CAME TO BK USED.—It is some what sin.!,Milar to fracc the manner in which arose the use of tho common beverage, col-fee, without , which few persons, in any half or wlioleiy civilized country in tin-world, would seem hardly uble to exist. At the time Columbus discovered America, it had never been known or used. It only grew in Ariibia and upper Ethiopia. The discorory of its use as a beverage is a.'icrilxfd to the Superior of a m ):nstery,in Arabia, who, desirous of preven-ting the monks from sleeping at their noiTturnal services, made them drink the infusion of coffee, upon the report of some shepherds, who observed that tho fiock were more lively after browsing on the fruit of that plant. Its reputation spread through the adjacent countries, and in about two hundred years it reached Parii*. A single plant brought there in sixteen hundred and fourteen, became the parent stock of nil the coffee planta-tions in the West Indies. The extent of con-sumption can now hardly bo realized The United States alone, agnuiilly consume at the cost of its landing, from fiiteen to sixteen million of dollars. You may know the Arabia or Mocha, the be.it coffee, by iis small bean of a dark color. Tho Juvii and £ast Indian, the next in quality, u larger and paler yellow. The West Indian liio has a bluish greenish grey tint. (TT" Gov. S- of South Carolina, was a spleii'lid lawyer, and could talk a jury out of their seven sen.su.'^. Hu wus especially noted tor his siicces.s ill criminal casoi, alnioht always clearing his client. He was once counsel lor a man ac-cused of horse stealing. Hu made a long, do- (|ueiit and touching speech. The jury retirod, but returne l in a few moments, and, with te«n m their eye.'<, pronounced the man not guilty. An old acquaintance stopped up to thu prisoner and said : "Jem, the danger is past; and now, honor bright, didiiit you steal thut borae?" To which Jem replied : " Well, Tom, I've ull ulong thought I took that horse, but sincu I've heard the Uovernor'* siiotkh, i don't believe I did." MATHIMONY,—-" Observe the face of the wife," says tbu Spanish proverb, 'Ho kuow (be husband's character."
|Title||North and South, and New Britain journal, 1859-02-05|
|Subject||Antislavery movements -- United States -- Newspapers; New Britain (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Weekly; Publication dates: Vol. 2, no. 1 (Nov. 6, 1858)-v.2, no. 45 (Sept. 10, 1859); Notes: Editor, Elihu Burritt|
|Contributors||Guernsey, Lucius M; Burritt, Elihu,1810-1879|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.N5 N67|
|Relation||Preceding title: North and South (New Britain, Conn.); Succeeding title: New Britain times (New Britain, Conn. : 1859)|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproducation and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||New Britain journal; The North and South, and New Britain journal|
|CONTENTdm file name||15894.cpd|
T H NORTH AND SOUTH,
VOLUME ir. N EW BRITAIN. CONNECTICUT, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1859.
T H F.
f c o s a i f H : A R B
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WILL IIK RMOKU KVRRY SATHRDAT,
Frrtw Ih* Prfntint OJw of the I'l oprti-tor. In »li» RaMmvnt ("f
Ui« H«pHit Ohuich, Nsw BKltAiN.
TSRMS: — $1.50 ppr nnnnnt, in Advixnoe. In bundle*
of rtft* or more to one i»d(lro«*, S1.2o.
Xom'Mn of N >r«i
|CONTENTdm file name||15890.pdfpage|