The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1851-01-25
THE CECIL WING.
To Readers and Correspondents


largely on our columns this week, and
the articles they have furnished us are
worthy of attention. The "Wayside
Epistle" is good number; the story of
the Runaway Slave, must not be sup
posed to be intended to offend any por-
ton of our readers, nor must it be held
to be fancy sketch. Unfortunately
there is too much truth in it. Since it
was in type, We find in a city paper the
following telegraphic despatch from Bos-
ton.
BosroN Jan. 2Oh.-Somc astounding devel-
opments, relative to the recent disappearance ola
Young girl. named Blown, the daughter cfa high
" respectable aholitionist, have been made. 1t
appears the father had expressed himself indif-
terenl as TO whether his tighter married white
man or negro. She took him at his word, and
few weeks since clopcd with black man, mar
ried him, and IN his company went TO the differ
cnt dens Of Ann street, in of which she was
discovered by nm officer. and carried to her father
She is now in the lnnatic asylum. The affair
has been hushcd up here, ON account Of the res
probability of the parties.
Thus, unfortunately, We see that even
il the story on the first page were fic
ton, truth is stranger and stronger than
fiction.
The Letter to Cousin" is in good
easy letter style and among its details of
local interest, has thoughts for more ex-
tended attention. The article relating
to Church Members and the Temper
ancc cause is a tartly written paper, and
we suppose is intended to bear in some
particular quarter, but recognising moth
ing personal in it, and being willing al
ways to allow writer who seems to be
an earnest and true man, to be heard,
we give it place without taking any
other responsibility in the case.
On the second page, We have the pro-
ceedings of Temperance meeting, and
some notes by a "Traveller,' who seems
sharp enough on our old town to cause
some voice to rise up in its defence.
We have on hand some manuscripts,
not yet determined upon. Correspon-
dents will remember that in the general
"brevity is the soul Of wit;' some sub
ects require space for consideration, but
in most cases articles for newspaper of
the size OF The Wing should be short.
There is no certain rule to decide by,
however; the Judgment of the writer
must be relied on; for instance: an essay
may be one column or two, and a tale
may be one, two, three or four columns
which they should be, must be deter
mined by the writer, who need not al
ways suppose an article is able or inter-
esting because he produces it. Asa gem
eral thing our correspondents have dis
erection in these matters.
We ike in this column to talk famil-
iarly with our readers, and keep up with
them that kind of unrestraincd and So
cial feeling warranted by "auld acquaint-
ance.' How we would love to take
every good fellow among them by the
hand this morning, and deliver them
The Wing in person instead of mailing
it to them. Rambling away for an hour
in the sunshine of yesterday afternoon,
and enjoying the pleasant breath of
seeming Indian summer, our mind turn
ed to the subject of Friendship, and we
felt sad that experience and observation
had taught us, that the sentiment SO de-
nominated was, in its truth, SO rare
dwellcr on the earth, and so evanescent.
The friends of boyhood may be the
foes of manhood-hearts knit together
to-day, tomorrow are riven asunder-
deceit and mistrust are ever doing their
dreaded work, and cold designing inter-
est dealsits freezing blows on every hand.
But all is not thus--there is truth-there
is nobleness of heart enough, for those
who "seek not, ask not too much ofsym-
pathy." On, tar on in this train our
mind ran, and tracing it back, we found
it was started by seeing a snow-bird
huttering along our path, which brought
up to memory the following lines by
Leggett.
The Snow Bird.
The birds when winter shades the sky,
Fly DER the seas away,
Where smiling isles in sunshine lie,
And summer brcczes play;
And thus the friends that Auttcr near
When Fortunes SIM is war.n
Arc startled fa cloud appear,
And fly before the storm.
Blu, when from winters bowling plains
All warblcrs else have pass'd,
The little snow-bird still remains,
And chirrups mid the blast
I.ovr like that bird hon