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From Godoy's T,ady's Book.
ROSES AND CABBAGES ;
trfieful and the 11,6autifild.
Charlie Anderson was discontented. And
who is not discontented ? The millionaire
who has accumulated immense hoards of
wealth, and amassed sums far beyond what
his most sanguine hops had pictured, is not
satisfied. The statesman and the warrior
who have climbed the ladder of fame to its
summit, to whom nations render homage, are
not content with what they have achieved.—
The author and the pact, though they rend
their praises in a thousand journals, are not
satisfied ; neither is the village belle, though
a dozen lovers are sighing at her feet. Charlie
Anderson, as we said at first, was not'satisfied,
was not content, though he could hardly as
sign any reason to himself' why be was
He had a kind and wealthy father, who sup-
plied him very liberally with money, and a
mother who loved him dearly, fur he was
their only child. Charles Anderson had been
in fact a spoiled child, and was nearly a spoil
ed man. Having never enjoyed the advanta
ges of early poverty and adversity, the school
of great men and great achievements, but
Laving from infancy moved smoothly on in
conscious security and pletty, ho had acquir
elan indolent forceless habit of mind which
.„,wilamore unworthy from the fact that ho was
naturally endowed with fine abilities.
But it was no secret regret for wasted op
portunities and misspent time that made him
discontented at present. He had arrived at
that age when men think very seriously cn
the &object of matrimony, and it was matri
monial thoughts which now disturbed him.—
He had reasoned or fancied biimielf into the
conclusion that he could not be happy without
a wife, and ho was determined, to get married
as soon as he could. He was not in love by
'As for love,' said-he to his grandmother,
with whom he was discussing the subject, •I
can love just whom 1 -choose, for that is a
matter more of association than anything else,
and lam old enough now to let reason have
1301110 hand in the business. A man is much
more influenced by feeling before he is twenty
five than after that age. But here lam twen
ty seven years old, almost au old bachelor ; I
muct bestir myself, and get a rib.'
'And Charlie,' replied:his grandmother, 'be
sore that you marry a girl that can make a
wife•in fact, a helpmate; don't throw yourself
away on one of these fine stuck-up young la
dies, who can do nothing but dress, and play
on the piano, and read novels, and talk about
moonlight. Get a wife that can make shirts
and puddings, and make up beds, and raise
chickens and cabbages, and make home com
fortable. Girls are different Low from what
they used to be when I wus young. There is
Susan Prim ; now she is a nice, quiet, Indus
trious girl, just the very one to make a good
But Charlie's mother, who had rather high
er notions than his grandmother, for the fain
dly had been 'rising' since she was a girl, put
.i i a word
hope that when Charley does marry, ho
will get a wife whom ho will not be ashamed
to eee in society. I would prefor that he
should got a lady who is qualified to move in
any circle. Ho does not need
. a wife to work
for Aim, but ono whom he will be "proud to
compare with dui best in the land, and such a
ono lie is entitled to.'
Charley said no more upon the subject at
the time, but he had •his own opinion in rela ,
Lion to the subject. He felt perfectly confi
dent that ho could follow his reason eritirely
in the important matter, and never once
thought of the possibility of falling in love.—
lie imagined that it was possible for a young
man of susceptibility and refinement to enter
into the marriage contract with as much cool
ness and deliberation as he would take a rail
road contract or go into the tea trade, and
hair - lug escaped, as,he thought, the dangers of
youthful impetuosity—for ho had been in love•
once—he would be calm and cautious in
0h0:43314 a partner for life. Ho had read, in
many newspapers and moral essays, the so
luthin of the momentous problem, 'how ,to
choose a wife.' Many wise saws had he pe
rused wherein industry, modesty, meekness,
thisiestio qualifications, &e., were lauded, and
fashionable acoomplishwents decried, the
spinning-wheel exalted and the piano abused;
the anthers of which advice had of course fol
lowekihe same in their own eases, or more
pielatithy. could , speak with more certainty
However,i hayin experienced the evils of not doing
However,Charley was strong in the! be
thisliefi would exercise great caution in
&wising futi himself a wife, and he was de.
terMineti to luive a good One. ,
Charley Anderson was a desirable, matoh for
any girl in the village, and so he know or
,thought himself to be. Ho was a fine looking,
healthy young man, with brown hair and
bright, grey, intelligent eyes ;' and ho had in
his own rigtth besides a rich tattier,:a 'con
siderable fort One. He had rece4yed ti elassical
education, a*l pirsessed easy :and gracqul
manners, and great conversational
So, with an ordinary amount of WI - may, and
forgetting the unaccountable nature of women
especiallrfarnes, he imagined that all be
had to do Was to make his selection according
to the rules of philosophy and prudence, 'then
say the word, and the thing would I e done.
He was acquainted with all the young ladies
in the village, and had been flirting with seine
of them for years, but he was determined to
set out now de nous with a serious matrimoni
al intention, to inspect and observe closely
the qualities and merits of those young ladies
whom he' might consider marriageable.
Susan Prim was"considered by most of the
old folks as Tie of the best 'ehanceS' for a
young man in the whole village. Slip was a
perfect specimen of the 'prnetictiV and a very
good specimen of the 'material' was Susan.
She was a bouncidg ; flaxen-haired, rosy-cheek
ed girl, who had a ereat reputation for, do
mestic qualifications; just such a lassietts
would have been the beau ideal of Dr. Johnson,
but could scarcely have taken the eye of By
roa"or Napoleon. Charley was well acquain
ted with the family, and did not hesitate, on
the recommendntion of his grandmother, to
make his matrimonial visits in this 'direction ;
he wanted to try if he could not dike' Susan
well enough to marry her Ho was already
acquainted with her, but had never 'looked
upon her with the eye matrimonial.
Sesan was the pride of her mother. Mrs.
Prim never failed to show off to company the
eminently' useful and practical abilities of her
daughter. One day, shortly after Charley had
determined, as above stated, to enter forth
with into the matrimonial condition, he tciok
dinner with the Prims. This was n first rate
opportunity to learn the merits of Miss Su-
.Try some of these pickles. Mr. Anderson ;
they are some of Susan's own making : you
will find them excellent; she is n great hand
to make pickles.'
`Really, Mrs. Prim, they are very fine, and
Miss Susan deserves grctt credit for them.'
She is quite an adept in all these things.
You needn't blush and be ashamed of it daugh
ter. Here's some beets that she raised her
self, and she made the jelly you are eating
with your turkey. lam quite proud of Sue,
and take credit to myself for her raising. She
is one of the most industrious girls I ever saw;
she knows how to manage things about the
douse as well as Ido myself. I raised her in
the old-fashioned way, to make herself useful.'
Various articles, especially in the pudding
and pie line, were found to be productions of
Miss Slll3llll'd industry. Indeed, she was evi
dently nn excellent housekeeper, could make
her own dresses, Made the finest shirts for her
father, and took pride in having everything
about the place marvellously neat. She bore
herself very modestly under the encomiums of
her mother, and Charlei began to think that
elle was just the person to make a comfortable
home. It was true she had not dark hair or
brown eyes, which he would have preferred,
but then he could do very well withillot them,
and he hail half made up his mind to 'put in'
at Squire Prim's by the time dinner was over
after which the young folks were shown into
The house was finely situated, and from its
windows could be seen a very beautiful land
scape ; the situation was the merest occident,
for old Prim never once thought of beauty in
selecting its site. It wits summer ; the whole
vegetable creation was rejoicing in new life ;-
the flowers were budding forth in glorious
profusion everywhere. Everywhere, did I
say ? net so ; our hero could discover none in
the front garden of Prior's house, in the place
where flowers ought to he. Charley Lad a
taste, or rather an eye and a nose for flowers
and he expected to see sotne of them, in pots
or in front yard, but there were none and
what struck him as peculiar was the fact that
instead of roses and pinks, the practical hang
of Miss Susan had planted there sage and
beans and onions and cabbages. This ho did
not exabtly, like; it was carrying usefulness
—, What a beautiful view you have from this
window!' said Charley.
'Yes,' said Miss Susan. "
'lt seems to me that if I were going to build
a residence for myself, I would select a situa
tion for beauty, as much or more than for any
other advantage. Do you not think that the
scenery which we are accustomed to -contem
pinto has considerable influence in forming
our minds and dispositions ?'
'Most of the countries that have been dis-
Anguished by great men and heroic actions,
which have occupied a large place in the histo
ry of the world, and where the light of immor
tal genius has shown with the most brilliancy,
are countries abounding in beautiful scenery,
as Palestine, greece, and Italy/
'I seo you have a taste for poetry,' said
Charley, taking up a volume which 'ornamen
ted' the centre-table. 'This is my favorite au-
ihoress, krs..:Heraans. Her 'Pilgrim
ers' is npeean•not surpassed iu :anyjanguage
or in any age
• 'Yes, she is'a very good poet.'%, •
'lt iss i strange women have not excelled
in poetry. It would seem that they are emi
nently qualified for this species of composition.
having-snore . sonsibility, more deliiney 'of
and more ready in4eation than
Charley looked out ot'the WindoW ; he saw
browsing on ' the green.hillside ' a !very One
herd of cattle.; they made a picturesque ap
pearance, and so he remarked, Ile had struck
the right cord ; this brought Miss Susan out.
'Yes they are mighty Lino cattle. Do you
see that brown cow off by herself ? That is
one of the greatest
,cows that' you ever saw.;
she gives gallons of milk every 'day ; and
there's another in the same flock that is almost
as good. Pa got the breed from
Charlie found Miss Susan perfectly nt home
on the rubject of raising cows and calves and
chickens, and the times and the modes'of plan
ting cabbages, &c. And after spending much
titrre in this very useful discussion, he left her,
with the .'promise of 'bringing her some rare
cabbnge•seed which his grandmother had t'e
'Well, Charley,! said his grandmother, 'and
so you spent the day at the Priors. How do
you begin to like Mis Susan ; she is a fine
smart girl, isn't she ?'
'Ycs grandma she's smart enough, and a
very good girl too."
And I suppose you have been courting her
all (Inv ?
.Well not exactly ; the fact is"—
"Why what objection turn you find• tb her
now ? You knew you said you had outgrown
foolish notices about loving, pretty faces, and
all that sort of thing "
'Why, the truth is, grandma, Miss Susan is
a good enough girl, and I have no doubt would
make a very industrious domestic wife, but she
lacks mind and refined sentiment."
There. you are now talking nonsense just
like some young boy. What ilave sentiment
and poetry and all that to do with getting mar
ried, keeping house, and having all things
comfortable about you ?'
'Why, you see grandma, a man marries a
wife not merely to provide for his comfort and
domestic convenience, but as a companion and
friend. Mon is twofold in his nature, animal
and intellectual or spiritual, and he needs ail
ment for his soul as well ns for his body. How
is it possible for a man, who has any tastes.or
desires .above mere sensual comforts, to enjoy
the marriage stifte to its full extent with one
who has no tastes eimilar to his own, and with
whom he can have no community of sentiment?
'Woman was designed to be a helpmate to man,
not merely in the provision of food and cloth
ing, but in the higher and nobler aspirations
of his soul. It is her province to animate him
with lofty purposes, and incite him to honor
able exertion, to sympathise with him in his
triumphg, or soothe him in disappoinment and
Nell, well ! Charley ; that's all very fine.
I am afraid that your mother and your college
going have put some mighty flighty notions in
your head. But 'mind me ; you had better
take my advice about this matter. There was
you grandfather and me; I am sure z we got
along mighty well, and we never had any of
your notions about sentiment and aspirations,
and all that. But do as you please.'
•Did you see Angelica Rosedale at church to
day?' said Mrs. Anderson ono Sunday, •She
is a beautiful girl, isn't she?'
Yes sho is a remarkably fine-looking young
lady, and exceedingly graceful.'
'She dresses with such excellent taste.—
That's a chance for you, Charley you must
go and see her.'
'Yes, ma'am, I intend to call there to-mor
row evening; I have rot been to see her since
her return from the North,'
'Old Rosedale is rich. you know, and, the
family Is of the first blood. Angelina is the
Tory girl to make a fine appearance in society.
She is so very ladylike. She is worth looking
Accordingly the next evening after dressing
himself with unusual eare..,Cliarley Anderson
set out to visit Miss Angelina Rosedale. Arrived
at the house, he passed through a very beauti
ful flower-garden, redolent with roses and vio
lets; and every other species of flowers; and
having knocked for admkttanoe, was ushered ,
into a splendidly furnished parlor, where he .
had to wait fora considerable _ At length'
Miss Angelina made her appearance, saluted
Mr. Anderson With great dignity and grace,
and sank upon a sofa with a languid, exhaus
ted air. Her form was sylph-like, and very,
beautiful was her "face ; Charley thought,
ho had never seen such h pretty IStly before,
'And so you have been to the North
Miss Angelina t „I suppose our little town
looks rather dull and dingy,to yon after visit
ing tho splendid northern clties.'
'Why really, Mr. Anderson, I don't know
how you live in this little old place all through
the summer. I think 7 should die if I were
compelled to stay here.'
1 01);"7e rniinage to get along, after WlashiOn.
witli : : boolte and various little atnnisetpeots:l
suppose . ipu had-a plepsent.trip , ,'
, ; 'le had 'tn'tftinne
Have you ever been at Saratoga? Oh, that is
:•uch a delightful
`Did you ever spend Muob time there?'
'Only about two -weeks. We made some very
pleasant acquaititnnees there—the, Squeezle-
Phatitums'from New York, and the Tapewells
of Philadelphia; they made quite - a sensation.
'end there was Mr. Dootell, who, youltnek, is
such an entertaining beau.'
'I suppoSe you went to Niagara nip'
Oh, yes! We went there also, but did not
stay long; the company was not so agreeable
as at the springi. We' only stayed there a
.But did yon have time to see the falls-suffi
eiently,in so short a time?'
'Oh, you don't suppose we went there to
look at the falls, do you?'
'Why, certainly, Miss Angelina; For what
, Why„to see the people , who were there,
and to dnnoe and enjoy one's self.'
'Butt was you not filled with wonder at the
sight of the mighty cataract?'
'Oh, yes! Of course, I was,' said, Miss An
gelina, recollecting herself, and quoting: •It is
one of the most sublime spectacles :that the
eye of man ever beheld, and fills the soul with
emotions of grandeur ineffable. It impresses
us with the majesty and omnipotence of the
Creator, and our own littleness and insignifi
cance;' but pa says they have more ways to
cheat people out of their money there than
any other place he ever was at.'
It happened that, as Miss Angelina cast her
eyes casually in the direction of the door, she
saw--oh, horrorl—a cat, a dreadful cut enter
the room. Now, whether she thought that it
became her, as a lady of refined sentiment and
del ion te, • nervous tempera ment. •Ac become
at once immensely terrified, or whether she
really did haVe an antipathy to the' harmless
little animal, We do not know. MA, appropri
ating one of the screams of the song to her
case, she jumped up from the 'piano, and be
sought Mr. Anderson. in the most pathetic
terms, to protect her from the dreadful crea
ture, and drive it out. Charley made..at puss
with great ardor, and in the chase she ran
over the feet of Miss Angelina; this settled
the matter. There was a sofa convenient;
and so the lady fainted at once. The family
were alarmed; iind not until cold water and
salts were abundantly applied did Miss Ange-.
Ilan revive, when after a decent ; period had
elapsed, he took his leave.
'She is very beautiful,' thought be, as ho
slowly wended his way home, 'and she sings
and plays very finely, and ha& some mind and
sentiment; but I find something lacking about
her. I don't think she would make a happy
home. A man can't live on roses altogether,
any more than he can on cabbages.'
Days and months passed away; and still
Charley was a bachelor, notwithstanding his
resolution, and notwithstanding Miss Angelina
looked very beautiful ,Le him, and he took din
ner several times at Mr. Prim's. He had too
much intellect and poetry in his composition
for the one, and too much philosophy and
common sense for the other. Like a seniible
man, he was using his reason and calm judg
ment in the matter.
One evening, as our hero was strolling in
the outskirts of the village, his ear caught the .
sound of a favorite song, Sung by one of the
sweetest voices that the had ever heard; ho
paused and listened. The voice proceeded
from a little white cottage, with an ivy -coveted
porch, and a little flower-garden. in front
Charley knew it well as the residence of Mrs.
Eaton, &widow lady in humble circumstances;
but he could not imagine who it was that made
such beautiful music, for ho thought it the
sweetest voice that he had over heard. Long
did he listen to the "strains; and all the way
home the sweet tones of the unknown song
stress haunted his soul. When ,he returned
home, he inquired of his tnother.who it was
that was staying at the widow Eaton's.
.Why, Mary Eaton, her daughter, who has
just returned from school, or rather from teach
-114 'school; (or she has been teaching for a
year. Don't you remember little Miry that
used to pass here every day?'
'Oh, yes! ' I remember. her very well nowt
she had such pretty brown eyes? • •
, Ilow came you to inquire about her?'
'Why, I was passing Mrs. Eaton's this even-,
ing, and I heard the sweetest vobm'singingi
that I ever listened to; and I could not itu:'
nine who it was. I think I intik elaird old:
:. 4 1 have noAoubt, Charley, that youwill And'
,Miss Mary a very fine girl; and you must take'
care of your' heart, for the is very' m'ii,tv and
accomplished. It is a great twat ehe is
According' to hls resolution, .Qharley, rho
neat eveldng, calledStit, Mrs.. goon* lie was
ushered into a plain,. but neatly furnished
little parlor, whore he found Miss Mary.—
Mary Eatod bed' not regular features; but her
hair was of a beautiful- brown, and she bad
the prettiest brown eyes in the world. It was
t : ~+._
not long' before Cherley'erks 'on the very beat
terms with the little sCheolmistreso, They
about old times and old Meade, and
Mary sang and played many eweett old seine',
just to, suit Charley's taste; so he passed a
delightful evening, and voiS half in love,'
though he did mot know it when he started,
. found, Charley at the
widow Eatons: At first,. he labored to find
some excuse for his viiritS;' biit Cif last Ile• watt_
compelled to acknowledge to himself that his
heart was gone—that be was .deed .in love.
Ali his philosophy, all - his cool reason,, had
vanished. He actually did not know, he had
formed no idea whether Mary Eaton had a do
mestic turn or not, or Whether'she could make
a comfortable home; he did know 'la she Mid i
a sweet voice, and that the light of her eye
thrilled his soul with inexpressible emotion.
It was with some misgivings that he broke the
news of his intended proposal to his mother;
as he expected, she objected and remonstrated.
His grandmother thought Susan Prima much
better match; but old Mr. Anderson,•who had
been crossed in love in youth bin, elf, and had'
not entirely forgotten that he was •once a
young man, as old men are. so - very apt,to do,
gave his opinion decidedly in favor of Charley
having his own way. -- • -•,• • -
In , the Mean time. it hail hever: Once occur
red to the mind of Charley that perhaps he
might meet with oppo-ition to Lis matrimonial
schemes from the young lady herself. It is
true that, although he had not directly asked
her the momentous question, he had had every
kind of encouragement; and he did not doubt
for a moment that he had made a favorable
impression on Mary's heart,,itnil that his suit
would end according to his wishes. It was,
therefore, with much surprise and. mortifica
tion that he received a refusal.
•I will confess to you, Mr. Anderson,' said
Mary, •that I prefer you to any one in the
world; but I cannot consent to marry you
until you have proved yourself fully a man
capable of acting an honorable and useful
part in the great dream of life—:a part worthy
of your opportunities and talents. Icotibe .
an absurd thing in me; but I canniClSVe a
man, Mr. Anderson, unless he shows will
and ability to distinguish _ himself from the
masses by intellectual superiority. Perhaps I
have read too much history or romance; but
it is so. You have an ample field for the ex
orcise of those talents which I know you pos
sess. These are stirring times, and this is a
progressive country; we have a great destiny
to fulfil, and must all contribute our portion
to the grand work. I can do but little myself;
but I will exert what influence I can to ani
Charley attempted no reply; various and
conflicting emotions made him dumb. To be
reproached for inefficiency, for weakness, by
any one, is bad enough; but when that re
proach comes from one we love, it stings like
a scorpion. Charley felt humiliated; he al
most hated himself, and, between disappointed
lore, mortified pride, and relf reproach, ho
spent many sleepless hours that night.
From that time, Charles Anderson applied
himself to study in earnest. Naturally gifted
with eloquence and a fine genius, he soon dis
tinguished himself as one of the leading men
of the country and of the State. Ile was sent
to represent his country in the legislature;'
and three years from the time when Mary
Eaton rejected his suit he stood in the halls of
Congress, one of the representatives of his
State in the great council of the nation.
In the moan time, troubles had come on
Mary and her mother. The little property
which they had bad been taken from then),
owing to tii.,we defect in the title; and they
now depended on the exertions of Mary alone
for their support. Charley had not been to see
her since the eventful night of his rejection;
for he felt so humiliated that ho could not
have looked her iu the face.
'I always thought you were wrong, Mary,
in rejecting Mr. An . derson,' said her mother
one evening, as they were talking over their
affairs; 'you will never have such an offer
could not love , him then, mother; and, if
. he cares nothing-for me novr that he has be.
come a illstlnguiplied azi,naot help if.
It makes 'Me SIIPPY W.think that ' 'I
have bad some Innuenee upon hie deetny '
It i's a beautiful evening; the sun is smiling:
goodJnight 'to the bidding trees and opening
Rowers of •apring. i The door olrthe.cottage
open, and Mary is singing a plaintive old sonif
to her pin ' A manly step is heard on the
Piazza; and when she turns to see who it is,
Charley Anderson' Is standing 'in the ilecii:4 l
We, pass, over the' embarrassm ent of the Ark
greeting, both were ngitated. At length,
after they: - liatli liecOnie neg . :feinted aisite`i
Charley gathered courage to ; Make a' space!: ,
after'this fashion: 0I owe to you, Miss Mary,
all that,l have Bono worthy of !nymolf / and wy
oircumAances, and Ilnive come again to affit
you 'my hand and My whole heurt.'',
Tho rest of what was said and done on that
occasion js , not teportot Itnit'ChFloy 'Ander-
Oen carried with 'him to Washington a bride
(Coneluded,on seventh page.)