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THE COURANT,
A Southern Literary Journal.
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HOWARD H. CALDWELL, EDITOR.] "Sic vos non vobis." [WM. W. WALKER, JR., & CO., PROPRIETORS.
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VOLUME I. COLUMBIA, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 30, 1859. NUMBER 9
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For the Courant.
THE VILLAGE BEAUTY.
------
BY PAUL H. HAYNE.
------
I.
The glowing tints of a Tropic eve
Burn on her radiant cheek,
And we know that her voice is rich and low,
Though we never have heard her speak;
So full are those gracious eyes of joy,
That the blissful flood runs o'er,
And wherever her tranquil pathway tends,
A glory flits on before!

II.
O! very grand are the city belles!
Of a brilliant and stately mien,
As they walk the steps of the languid dance,
And flirt in the pause between;
But beneath the boughs of the hoary oak,
Where the minstrel-fountains play,
I think that the artless village girl
Is sweeter by far than they.

III.
O! very grand are the city belles!
But their hearts are worn away
By the keen-edg'd world, and their lives have lost
The beauty and mirth of May;--
They move where the sun and starry dews
Reign not; they are haughty and bold,--
And they do not shrink from the cursed Mart,
Where Faith is the slave of Gold.

IV.
But the starry dews and the genial sun
Have gladdened her guileless youth,
And her brow is bright with the flush of hope,
Her soul with the seal of truth;
Her feet are beautiful on the hills,
As the steps of an Orient morn,
And Ruth was never more fair to see
In the midst of the autumn corn!
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Written for the Courant.
TOM WOFFTON'S STRATAGEM.
-------
BY S.
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"Wherein is he good, but to taste sack, and drink it?"--Shaks.
Tom Woffton was a gay, good-humored youth of eigh-
teen. His father had decided to give him a professional
education; and Tom chose to devote himself to the
"healing art." He, however, begged his indulgent pa-
rent to give him liberty for a year or two longer, as he was
still a boy, and a life of intense application and labor lay
before him, from which there would be no relaxation
when once commenced.
Mr. Woffton, Sr., was not deaf to those appeals, and
Tom was permitted to indulge, unrestrained, in all the
dissipations of idle and affluent youth. His greatest
fault was the growing desire of his appetite for intoxica-
ting liquors. Mr. Woffton began to have some suspicion
of this, but, as Tom always held his revels abroad, it was
some time before anything could be ascertained with
certainty.
He at last learned that a party of young men, Tom
included, were going to have a "jolly time," as they ex-
pressed it, at the village tavern, hard by. His mind
was instantly made up to be an unseen spectator of the
whole "jollification."
He saw the tavern-keeper, and obtained permission
to occupy the adjacent apartment. In due time his
portly figure was stowed away in a corner, near the key-
hole, from which the key was cautiously withdrawn, but
the door was thoughtlessly left unlocked. Presently
the young disciples of Bacchus, formed into a solid pha-
lanx, marched in; and, from the orders that were pro-
fusely issued they seemed bent on having a social time.
Champagne, brandy, gin, whiskey, &c., were brought
in and disappeared in a marvellously short time; and, as
old Tom Beazly would have said, "their spirits greatly
increased, as the spirits decreased. Mr. Woffton looked
on in wonder and indignation, but wisely nursed his
wrath until a more convenient season. Tom was confes-
sedly in his glory, and "bound to shine."
"For," said he, "I can see by the cut of the old gov-
ernor's eye, that he don't mean I shall enjoy many more
of these delightful re-unions; he'll make me pack soon,
I know."
"The ungrateful guzzler!" muttered the exasparated
eaves-dropper, "that you shall pack soon, my fine fellow,
I'll see to that.
By this time the liquors were out, and they called for
more; but mine host knowing who was looking on, and
wishing to preserve the reputation of his house, gravely
remonstrated with them on the vice of excessive drink-
ing. The remonstrance was so unexpected, that one of
them, laughing contemptuously, cried out,
"I say, my old Brandy-blossom, when did you renounce
the "O! be joyful, and cheat the devil out of his due?"
"Hush, my friend," he replied, in a whisper, pointing
deprecatingly to the closed door.
"Oh, the pledge is in there, is it?" cried several,
starting for Mr. Woffton's point of observation, and ere
that gentleman was aware of their intentions, he found
himself sprawling on the floor, with his feet considerably
higher than his head. The youthful seekers of know-
ledge gazed for a moment on his prostrate form, and
then beat a hasty retreat, to deliberate what was best to
do for poor Tom, who was taken all aback at the un-
toward circumstance.
"I tell you what, boys," said Tom, "I cannot go
home unless in a dreadful state of sickness; for the old
governor is an out-and-out teetotaller, and would be cer-
tain to send me adrift, for a while anyhow.

After a few moments' debate, it was considered politic
that Tom should be taken suddenly and alarmingly ill; and
in that state, be conveyed by his comrades, to the pater-
nal home. Accordingly, he was soon writhing in inde-
scribable agony, contorting his form and features in the
most hideous manner. His companions laughed at his
ludicrous appearance until the tears ran down their
cheeks. Finally a carriage was procured and he was
lifted into it--one of his friends remarking,--
"Tom, don't carry your jest so far as to die with all
that liquor in you; for I would not be the pall-bearer
to such a cask of gin for the finest lost that was ever im-
ported--why, man, you weigh a ton!"
It may be supposed that Tom did not try to lighten
the burden at all; but enjoyed their trouble immensely.
Arrived at Mr. Woffton's, they rang the bell, and were
garnishing up their already plausible story, when the
door opened, and the tavern detective stood before them.
They were obviously much disconcerted, and the ap-
pointed speaker would have broken down, at sight of the
unexpected apparition, had not Tom come to his rescue.
He had been moaning most piteously, but now he broke
out in an ungovernable paroxysm of frenzy, declaring
that death, in a thousand hideous forms, was waiting for
him, and calling, in the most heart-rending tones, on his
beloved father to save him.
The old gentleman listened at first with surprise, which
soon changed to anxiety, and finally to alarm. He ex-
claimed:
"In the name of Heaven, what is the matter with
Tom?"
The speaker, glad to see a change in the determined
front of the offended sire, poured forth the well concoc-
ted tale of poor Tom's sufferings. He admitted that
they had been enjoying themselves sociably, and Tom
had indulged in, perhaps, a glass too much; when he
was attacked with the most violent convulsions. As he
had drunk from a decanter that none of the others had
touched, (true, for effect,) it was feared that he had im-
bibed some deadly drug. Mr. Woffton, thoroughly
alarmed, despatched all the servants that could be rung
up at that late hour, for the physician, medicine, &c.--
Meanwhile Tom was borne to his own room, laid upon
the bed; and as one of his friends bent over him, to
smoothe his pillow, he whispered,--
"Make way with yourselves; I can manage the old
governor now."
Acting on the hint, one by one took leave of the dis-
tracted parents, promising to call in an hour or so, to see
how Tom was getting along. Mr. Woffton agreed to
their departure very reluctantly, and then turned to the
bed, where Tom was falling into a gentle slumber, which
gradually deepened, until, on the physician's arrival, he
could with difficulty be aroused, and then but for a mo-
ment. The Doctor ordered a warm bath, and eclared
it necessary to take two or three ounces of blood. In the
bustle attending such preparations, Tom and the doctor
were left together; quick as lightning, the languid eyes
flew open, the nerveless arm pulled the head of the as-
tonished man of physic within a few inches of the suffer-
er's, who whispered fiercely,--
"I tell thee, Sawbones, if thou dost shed one drop of
christian blood, and mine in particular, I'll cut your ears
off!"
Mr. Woffton entered a moment after, and saw his son
still in that death-like lethargy, and the physician per-
fectly dumb-founded with surprise. He made some has-
ty and confused explanation, about not understanding
the case at first; measured out some harmless medicine,
gave a few general directions, promised to call again, and
withdrew on tiptoe, that he might not disturb the torpid
victim of convulsions.
This had a most reviving effect on Tom, who immedi-
ately opened his eyes, and looking affectionately at his
anxious parent, murmured,--
"My father!"
"Do you feel better, my son?" asked the mollified
sire, tenderly smoothing back the damp locks from his
pain-corrugated brow.
"Yes, father, much better--almost well."
Mr. Woffton reflected; it appeared to him to be his
duty to reproach his son at once; so acting upon this
internal suggestion, he dismissed the servants, and seat-
ing himself by his son's side, thus began:
"Thomas, it grieves me much to see the course you
are pursuing; wasting all the energies and talents, with
which you have been endowed by nature, on the most
frivolous pleasures and contemptible vices."
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