HUNTINGDON JOURNAL:
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-- ,, W ith sweetest flowers enrich'd
Frain various gardens cull'd with care."
From the Sunday Morning News.
THE OLD CLOCK:
BY JAMES NACK.
Two yankee wags one summer day,
Stopped at a tavern on their *ay,
Supped, frolicked, late retired to rest,
And woke to breakfast on the best.
The breakfast over, Torn and Wilt
sent for the landlord and the bill;
Will looked at over; "Very right , —
tut hnld ! what wonder meets my sight!
Tom! the surprise is quite a shock!"—
"What wonder? where"-. , "The clock! the
dock!"
Tom nod the landlotd in Rhin'.
;Stared at the clock with stupid gaze.
And for a moment neither spoke;
M last the landlord silence broke—='
"You mean the clock that's ticking there?
I see no wonder I declare,
Tho' may be, if the truth were told,
'Tis rather ugly=-somewhat old;
Yet time it keeps to half a minute:
But, it you please, what wonder's in it?"
"Tom, don't you recollect." said Bill;
"The clock at Jersey heat the mill,
The very image of this present,
With which I won the wager pleasant?"
Bill ended with a knowing wink—
Tom scratched his head and tried to think.
"Sir, begging pardon for inquiring,"
The landlord said, with grin admiring;
"What wager was it?"
"You remember
It happened, Tcm, in last December,
In sport I bet r Jersey Bloc
That it was more than he could do,
To make his finger go and come
In keeping with the pendulum,
Repeating, till one hour should close,
Still, 'Here she goes--andahere the goes'—
He lost the bet in Italia minute."
"Well, if /would, the devil's in it!"
Exclaimed the landlord; "try me yet.
And fifty dollars be the bet."
"Agreed, but we will play some trick
To make you of the wager sick."
"I'm up to that!"
"Don't make us wait,
Begin. The clock is striking eight.
Ho seats himself, and left and right
His finger wags with all its might,
And hoarse his voice and hoarser grows
With—'Here she goes—and there she goes!'
"Hold!" said the Yankee, 'plank the ready!'
The landlord wagged his finger steady,
While his left hand, as well as able:
Conyer.cl a purse upon the table.
"Torn, with the money let's be off!"
This made the landlord inward scoff!
He heard them running down the stair,
But was nct tempted from his chair;
Thought lie, "the fools! I'll bite them yet!
So poor a trick shan't win the bet."
And loud and loud the chorus rose
Of, "here ally goes—and there she goes!"
While right and left his finger swung,
In keeping to his clock and tongue.
His mother happened in to see
Her daughter; "where is llfre. 11--P
When will she come. as you suppose?
Son?"
"Here the gore—and Mere she gore!"
"Here! where!—" the lady in surprise
His finger followed with her eyes;
"Son,. why that steady gaze and sad—
Those words.•-that rpotion—are you mad?—
But here's your wife—perhaps she knows,
"Here ahe goes—and Mere she goes!"
His wife surveyed him with alarm,
And rushed to him and seized his arm;
He shook her off. and to and fro
His finger persevered to go,
While curled his very nose with ire,
That she against him should conspire,
And with more furious tone arose
The, here she goei—and there she goes."
.I.awl“!' screamed the wife. 'l'm in a whirl!
Run down and bring the little girl;
She is his darling, and Who knows
But"-
"Here she goes—and there she goes!'"
"Lawks! he is mad! what made him thus?
Good Lord! what will become of us?
Run for a doctor—run—run—run—
For doctor Brown, and doctor Dun,
For doctor Black, and doctor White;
And doctor Grey, with all your might."
The doctors came, and looked and wondered,
And shook their heads, and paused and pon-
dered,
'Till one proposed he should be bled,
"Nc—leeched you mean—"the other said
'Clap on a blister,' roared another,
'No—cup him'—no trepan him, brother I'
A sixth would recommed a purge,
The next would an emetic urge,
The eighth, just come from a dissection,.
His verdict gave for an injection;
The last produced a box of pills,
A certain cure for earthly ills;
'I had a patient yesteruight,'
Quoth he, 'and wretched was her plight,.
And as the only means to save her
Three dozen patent pills I gave her;
And by to-morrow I suppose
That'—
'Here she goes—and there she goes!'
'You are all fools;' the lady said,
'The way is, just to shave his head,.
Run, bid the barber come anon'—
'Thanks mothe,' thought her clever son,
.Yori help the knaves that would have bit
me,
But all creation shan't outwit me!'
This t o himself, while to and fro
His hn ger perseveres to go,
And from his lip no accent flows
But ' here the goes—and there she goer.'
fhe barber came— , Lord help him! what
A queerish customer I've got;
But we must do our best to save him—
So hold him; gemmen, while I shave h im!,
But here the doctors interpose- - -
'A woman never'---,
There die goes!'
IA woman is no judge of physic,
Not even when her baby is sick.
He must be bled'— .no—no—a blister'--
.A purge you mean'—'l say a dyster'—
.Nc—cup him—' 'leech him—"pills! pills!
pills!'
And all the house the uproar fills.
What means that smile!what means that
shiver?
The landlords limbs with rapture quiver,
And triumph brightens up his face—
His finger yet shall win the race!
The clock is on the stroke of nine—
And up he starts—.'Tas mine! 'tts mine!'
'What do you mean?''
mean the fifty?
I never spent an hour so thrifty,
But you who tried to make me lose,
Go to the devil, if you choose;
But ho' . v is this? %%here are they?'
'The gentlemen—l mean the two
Came yesterday—are they below?'
'They galloped off an hour ago.'
'Oh, purge me! blister! shave and bleed!
For, curse the knaves, I'm mad indeed!'
The Maine Legislature has granted a di
vorce to Col. Ebenezer Cosa, and his wile,
Mary BACON. The Colonel is on the wrong
side of fifty, while the bride has just passed
the right side of twenty.
For this divorce, the only course.
That wisely could be taken,
Fair Mary sued—the cause was proved,
And thus she saved her BACON!
Can any blame the youthful dame,
Who gave the court a job?
When all the corn is shelled and gone
Say—who would keep the Cosa?
For age and want sate while you may;
No morning sun lasts a whole day.
"ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DIISTINY."
W. BENEDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17, 1839.
Iftfotettant ono.
From Chambers' Edinburg Journal,
THE FORTUNES OF A COUNTRY
GIRL.
One day, I will not say how many years
ago—for I intend to be very mysterious
for a time with my readers—a young
woman stepped from a country wag on
that had just arrived at the yard of
the famous Chelsea Inn, the Goat and
Compasses, a name termed by corrupt
ing times out of the pious original "God
encomposeth us." The young woman
seemed about the age of 18, and was
decently dressed, though in the plainest
rustic fashion of the times. She was
well formed and well looking, both
form and looks giving indications of the
ruddy health consequent upon exposure
to the sun and air in the country. After
stepping from the wagon, which the driver
immediately led into the court yard, the
girl stood for a moment in apparent uncer
tainity whether to go, when the mistress
of the inn who had come to the] door, ob
served her hesitation, and asked her to
enter' and take rest. The young woman
readily obeyed the invitation, and soon,
by the kindness of the landlady,found her
self by the fire side of a nicely sanded
parlour, whsrewithall to refresh herself
after a long and tedious journey.
"And so, my poor girl," said the land
lady, after having heard, in return for her
kindness, the whole particulars of the
young woman's situation and history,
'so thou bast come all this way to seek
service, and had no friend but John
Hodge, the wagoner? But he is like to
give the poor help, wench, towards getting
a place.''
"Is service, then, difficult to be had 1"
asked the young woman, sadly.
"Ah, marry, good situations, at least,
are hard to find. But have a good heart,
child," and as she continued, she looked
around her with an air of pride and dignity
"thou seest what I have come to myself;
and I left the country a young thing just
like thyself, with as little to look too. But
'tisn't every one for certain must look for
such a fortune, and in any case it must be
wrought for. I showed myself a good
servant, before my poor old Jacob, heaven
rest his soul, made me mistress of the
Goat and Compasses. So mind thee,
girl —"
The landlady's speech might have gone
on a long way; for the dame loved well
the sound of her own tongue, but for the
interruption occasioned by the entrance
of a gentleman, when the landlady rose
and welcomed him heartily.
"Ha! dame," said the newcomer, who
was a stout respectable attired person of
middle age, "how sells the good ale?—
scarcely a drop left in thy cellars, I hope?'
"Enough left to give your worship a
draught after your long walk," as she'
rose to fulfill the promise implied in her
words.
"I walked not," was the gentleman's
return, "but took a pair of ours, dame,
down the river. Thou knowest I always
come to Chelsea myself to see if thou lack
est any thing."
"Ah, sir," replied the landlady, "and
it is by that way of doing business that you
have made yourself, as all the city says,
the richest man in all the Brewers Corpo
ration, if not in London itself."
"Well, dame, the better for me if it is
so," said the brewer with a smile; "but
let us have the mug and this quite pretty
friend of thine shall pleasure us, mayhay,
by tasting with us."
The landlady was not long in produce.
ing a stoop of ale, know that her visiter
never set an example hurtful to his own
interests by countenancing the consump
tion of foreign spirits.
"Right, hostess," said the brewer, when
he had tasted it, "well made and well
kept, arid that is giving both thee and me
our dues. Now pretty one," said he,
filling one of the measures of glasses which
had been beside the stop, "wilt thou drink
this to thy sweetheart's health?"
The poor country girl to whom this was
addressed, declined the proffered civility,
and with a blush; but the landlady ex
claimed, "Come, silly wench, drink his
worship's health; he is more likely to get
thee a service, if it so pleased him, than,
John Hodge, the wag-mer."
"This girl has 'come many a mile,"
continued the hostess, "to seek a place in
the town, that she may burden her family
no more at home.'
'Who?'
"'L e o seek service!" exclaimed the brew
er; "why then perhaps it is well met with
us. Has she brought a character with her
or cart you speak tur her dame?"
"She has never yet been from home, sir
but her face is her character," said the
kind-hearted landlady; "1 warrant she
will be a dilligent and trusty one."
"Upon thy prophecy, hostess, will I
take her into my own service; fur but yes
terday was complaning of the want of help,
since this deputyship brought me more in
the way of entertaining the people of the
ward."
Ere the wealthy brewer and deputy left
the Goat and Compasses, arrangements
were made for sending the country girl to
his house in the city on the following day.
Proud of having done a kind action, the
garulous hostess took advantage of the
circumstance to deliver an immensely
' long harangue to the young woman on her
new duties and on the dangers to which
youth is exposed in large cities. The girl
heard her kind benefactress with modest
thankfulness. hut a more minute observer
than the good landlady might have seen in
the eye and countenance of the girl a qui
et firmness of expression, such as might
have induced the cutting short of the
lecture. However, the landlady's lecture
did end, and towards the evening of the
day following her arrival at the Goat and
Compasses, the youthful rustic found her
self installed as housemaid at the dwel
ling of the rich brewer.
The fortune of this girl it is our purpose
to follow. The first change in her condi
tion which took place subsequent to that
related, was her elevation to the vacated
post of housekeeper in the brewer's fam•
ily. In this situation she was brought
more than forint:llv in contact with her
master, who found ample means for ad
miring her propriety of conduct, as well as
her skillful economy of management.—
By degrees he begu n to fi nd her presence
necessary to his happiness; and being a
man both of honorable and independent
mind, he at length offered her his hand.
It was accepted; and she, who but four
or five years before had left her country
home barefooted, became the wife ut one
of the richest citizens of London.
For many 'years Mr. Aylesbury, for
such was the name of the brewer, and his
wife, lived in happiness and comfort to
gether. He was a man of good family
and connections, and consequently of high•
er breeding than his wile could boast of,
but on no occasion had he ever to blush for
the partner whom he had chosen. Her
calm, inborn strangth, :f not dignity of
character, conjoined with an extreme
quickness of precivtion, made her till her
place at her husband's teble with as much
grace and credit as if she hat'. bola
to the station. And as time ran on, the
respectability of Mr Aylesbury's position
received a gradual increas . e. Ile became
an Aldermen, and, subsequently sherilt•
of the city, and in consequence of the lat
ter elevation was knighted. Afterwards—
and now a part of the mystery projected
at the commencement of this story must
be broken in upon, as far as time is con
eerned--atter..!•ards, the important !dace
which the weAthy brewer hard hl the
city, called down upon him the attention
and favor of the king Chiles I, then anx
ious to conciliate the good will of the citi
zens, and the city knight received the
farther honor of a baronetcy..
• Lady Aylesbury, in the first year cf het
carried life, gave birth to a daughter,
who proved an oak child, and tounol
whom, as was natural, all the hopes and
and wishes of the porent'; entwined them
selves. This daughter had only reacl,ed
the age of seventeen when her father died,
leaving an immense fortune behind him.
It was at first thought that the widow and
her daughter would become inheritors of
this without a shadow of dispute. Bet it
proved otherwise. Certain relatives of
the deceased brewer set up a plea upon
the foundation of a will made before the
deceased had married. With her wanton
' firmness, Lady Aylesbury immediately
took steps for the vindication of her own
and her child's rights: A young lawyer
who had been a frequent guest at her
husband's table, and of whose abilities
she had formed a high opinion, was - the
person whom she fixed upon as legal as
' serter of her cause. Edward fTyde was,
indeed,'a youth of great abilityfthough!on
, ly twenty years of tge at the time referred
to, and though he spent much of his youth
ful time in the gay and fashionaale circles
of the day, he had not neglected the pur
suits to which his family's wish, as well as
his own tastes, had devoted him. But it
was with considerable hesitation, and with
a feeling of anxious diffidence that he con
sented to undertake the charge of Lady
Aylesbury's case; for certain strong tho'
unseen and unacknowledged sensations,
were at work in his bosom, to make him
fearful of the responsibility and anxious
about the result.
The young lawyer, however, became
counsel for the brewer's widow, and
daughter, anti by a stricking exertion of
eloquence. and display of legal ability,
gained their suit. Two days after the
successful pleader was seated beside his
two clients. Lady Aylesbury's usual
manner was quiet and composed, but she
now spoke warmly of her gratitude to the
preserver of her daughter from want, and
also tendered a fee—a payment munifi
cent, indeed, for the occasion. The young
lawyer ditllnot seem at ease during Lady
Aylesbury's expression of her feelings.
lie shifted upon his chair, changed color,
looked at Miss Aylesbury, played with
the purse before him. tried to speak but
stopped short, and changed color again.
Thinking only of best expresin , e her grat
itude, Lady Aylesbury appeared not to
observe her visitor's confusion, but arose,
saying 'ln token that I hold your services
above compensation in money, I wish also'
to give you a token of my gratitude in
another shape." As she spoke thus, she
drew a bunch of keys from her pocket.
which every lady carried in those days,
and left the room.
What passed during her absence be
tween the parties whom she left together,
will be best known by the result. When
she returned she found herdaughter stand
ing with averted eyes, but her hand with- ;
in that of Edward Hyde, who knelt on
the mothers entrance, and sought her
consent to their union. Explanations of
the feeling which the parties entertained
for each other ensued, and she was not
long in giving the desired consent. "Give
me leave, however," said she to the lover
"to place around your neck the memorial
which I intended for you. This chain•"—
it was a superb gold one—'•was a token
of gratitude from the ward in which he
lived, to my dear husband." Her calm
serious eyes were filled with tears as she
threw the chain round Edward's neck,
saying, "These links were born on the
neck of a worthy and honored man. flay,
thou, my beloved son, attain to still higher
honors."
The wish was fulfilled, though not until
danger and suffering tried severely the
parties concerned. The son•in-law of f
Lady Aylesbury became an eminent mem
ber of the English bar, and also an impor
tant speaker in arliament. When Oliver
Cromwell brought the king to the scaffold'
and established the Commonwealth, Sir
Edward hyde—for he held a government
post and was knighted—was too prom
' tient a member of the royalist party to
escape the enmity of the new rulers, and
was obliged to reside in the continent till
the restoration. When abroad, he was so
much esteemed by the exiled prince, (af
terwards Charles II,) as to be appo , nted
Lord high Chancellor of England, which
appointment was confilmed When the king
nnis ree+tired to his throne. `mite years
atter Hyde was elevated to the peerage,
first in the rank of a baron, and subse
quently as Earl of Clarendon, a title
which lie made famous in English history.
i'hese events, a o briefly nar"ated, oe
cupied a large space of time, during which
Lady Aylesbury passed her days in quiet
and retirement. She had now the plea
sure of beholding her daughter Countess
of Cl:Hendon ; and tf seeing the grand
children, who had been born of her. using.
gle as equels ns noblect of the land. But
a still inure exhalted fate aralted the poor
friendless girt who had cosine to Loudon
in search of service, in a wagoner's van.
Ilcr grand-daughter, Ann Ilyde, a young
lady of spirit., wit, and Leanty, had been
appointed, while her family staid abroad,
one of the imids of :senor to the Princes
of Orange, and in that situation had attrac
ted so strongly the regards of James, puke
of York, and brother of Charles ii, that
he contracted a private marriage with her.
The birth of a child forced on a public
announcement of this contract, and crc
long the grand-daughter of Lady Aylts
bury was openly received by the royal
family, and the people of England, as
Duchess of York, and sister-in-law to the
soverign.
Lady Aylesbury did not long survive
this event. But era she dropped into the
grave, at a ripe old age, she saw her de
scendents heirs presumptive to the British
crown. K ing Charles had married but had
no legitimate issue, and, acccrdingly, his
brother's family had die prospect and the
rights of succession. And, in reality, two
immediate descendents of the barefooted
country girl did ultimately fill the throne;
Mary (wife of William III,) and Queen
Anne, Princesses both of illustrious
memory,
Such were the fortunes of a young wo
man of whom the worthy landlady of the
Goat and Compasses was fearful of en
couraging to rash hopes by a reference to
the lofty position which it had been her
own fate to attain in life. In one asser
tion, at least, the hostess was undoubtely
riAlit—that success in life must be labour ,
ed for in some way or other. Without
the prudence and propriety of conduct
which won the esteem and love of the
hrewer, the sequal of the country girl's
history could not have been such as it is.
THE LAST SPECIMEN OF WESTERN
ELOQUENCE.
'Gentleman of the jury, whar has the
stranger been travelling to?—that's what
would like to know. He's shown a
great deal of college larnin'. He's soak
with old Socrates, ripped with old Euripi
des; roamed with old Romulus, and canted
with old Canthardes—but what the h—l
does he know about the laws of Arkan
'saw?--that'a what I'd like to know."
[VOL. IV, No 27
A LESSON FOR COQUETTES.
"We have a visitor to-day," said Lord
Pallister to his niece, the lovel" Elizabeth
Pallieter, who was on a visit for a week
to her right lion. uncle.
“IVlre. is it,” said the lady, "a lady or
gentleman'!"
gentleman—Mr. Jones."
"And who is Mr. Jones—is it Bumper
Squire Jones, or the renowned Tom?"
But we will ease his lordship the trouble
of describing who Mr. Jones was. He
was simply Mr. Jones, of Piercefield in
the county of Suffolk. Now this discrip
tion is very short but it is quite sufficient
to describe Mr. Jones. It is evident he
was not of very ancient gentility--had he
been so, he would basic been Mr. Jones of
Piercetield Hall, or Piercefield Manor; he
was not a retired merchant, or he would
have been Mr. Jones of Piercefield House;
neither could he have been a retired shop
keeper, or his hoarse would have been dig
nified with the euphonies name of Rose
Villa, or Bellevue Cottage, or Piercefield
Lodge. But Mr. Jones' house was a very
good house, it stood on a lawn only one
hundred yards from the road-side, and the
entrance-gate was suspended between
massive stone piers, surmounted with
round balls. It is, therefore, evident that
its owner was a man of a small indepen-
I dent for tune, and he was a gentleman by
two or three descents. Now, Mr. Jones
was a bachelor, his age twenty five, his ed
ucation such as he could obtain at a cele
brated, endowed school in the neighbor
hood; he was eminently handsome, but
he was "gootinatu red and well-disposition
ed, and a special favourite of Lord Pal
lister.
Now, Miss Pallieter, beside being a wit
was a little bit of a coquette—just suffi - -
tient ofevil in her disposition to prevent
ber being an angel, but she was a very
charming lady. She therefore debated
wills herself as to the course she should
pursue toward Mr. Jones, whether she
should abash the poor squire by her sa
tire, astonish hilts by her wit, or facinatie
hint by her condescension, and finally de
termined to be ruled by circumstances.
Accordingly after being introduced to our
squire, Miss Paliister occupied ihe five
minutes which usually intervene between
the completion of the toilet and the ser
vinT of dinner in surveying the fortress
she ment to r.ttack. 'Not at all distirF
guished in his appearance," was her first
!thought, "but the man Is decidedly hand
souse," her second.
People may talk of their appreciation of
intelleetaal.gifts but there are few who
are indifferent to personal beauty; and
when Mr. Jones led the lady to the dining
room, he was favoured with the sweetest
of smiles, and during dinner, and until
she retired to the drawing-room, she had
I directed the fu'l battery of her charms
!and graces against the heart of Mr. Jones.
She was witty without ill-nature, and vi
vacious without being, rude; but 'then she
was alone she confessed to herself that in
all appearance her labor had been thrown
away. Janes had listened to her conver
sation, but he had not expressed, and did
not seem to feel, any great admiration of
either her wit or her hieauty; but his polite
replies and accommodating affirmatives
were given with a degree of r-oodhamour
-led nonchalance that convinc ed Miss Pal
lister, to her great mortification, that she
bad failed in her attack on his heart. 'A
niece country squire to be thus invulneraa
ble to charms which; have drives half the
fashionable world mad,' thought she, 'it is
wonderful?' and Miss Pallister was not
vain in so thinking—it was a 'fact. 'The
man is not a foal either, and the fellow is
handsome.' She coloured, though alone,
as this idea a second time occcurred. She
the star, or rather the sun of fashion, was
not surely losing her own heart without
obtaining another in exchange. Pshaw!
it was ridiculous, but this did notprevent
bet, when the party reassembled, from re
newing her attack, and she again failed;
for Jones, from the effects of good wine 4*
Miss Pallister's encouragement, had be
come rather talkative, and to her surprise
he talked remarkably well; for though not
brilliant he hail good sense, had read a
great deal and had a good memory. The
evening soon passed away, the lady on
reviewing the events of the day, was nor.
tified to confess that, not only had she
made no impression on Mr. ..loins, but she
began to suspect that her own heart was
net invulnerable;
she ***colleeted that she
had listened with . pleastire,;to Jones' dts•
quisition on the Ptolemaick kings, dhe
who had never listened for two minuted to..
settler to anybody--it was omnious.
The intercourse between the parties tai
rame daily of a more particular descrip
tion, and Miss Pallister was deligted to
find that she had subdued the stubborn
heart of Jones. How she would tease hint
when he had once been brought to confer=
stun. But to bring about this confession
was more difficult than the lady expected.
It she gave him encouragement In tk6
presence of her uncle ; knee world to -
low het lead bnskley enough; but alone