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VOLUME XXIX, NUMBER 34.]
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Intrg.
From Longfellow's Nesv Book of Poems
Children.
Come to me, 0 ye children!
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that perplex me
Have vanished quite away.
Ye open the eastern window-,
That look toward the sun,
Where thoughts are singing swallows
And the brooks of morning ran.
In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine,
In your thoughts the brooklets flow,
But in mine is the wind of Autumn
And the first fall of the snow.
Alt! what would the world be to ua
If the children were no more!
We shonld dread the desert behind us
Worse than the dark before.
What the leaves are to the forest,
With light and air for food,
Ere their sweet and tender juices
. 2lave been hardened into wood--
That to the world are children;
Through these it feels the glow
Of a brighter and sunnier climate
Than reaches the trunk below.
Come,to me, 0 ye children!
And whisper in ray ear
What the birds and the winds are singing
In your sunny atmosphere.
For what are all our contrivings.
And the wisdom of our books, •
9,- . o 3V6iireiniliptireil with your caresses,
And the gladness of your looks!
Ya are better than all the ballads
That aver were sung and said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest um dead.
gelertixtito.
The Young Englishman.
[From "The Arabian Days' Entertain
ment," a new work just issued by Messrs.
Phillips, Sampson & Co., Boston.]
My Lord Sheik, in the southern part of
Germany lies the little city of Grunwiesel,
where I was born and bred. It is small, as
all cities are in that country. In the centre
is a little market-place with a fountain, an
old guildhall on ono aide, and round the
market the houses of the justice of peace
and the more influential merchants; and a
couple of narrow streets hold all the rest of
the inhabitants. All know each other; every
one. knows what happens everywhere else;
and if the priest, the burgomaster, or the
doctor, has an additional dish on his table,
by dinner time it is known to the entire
city. In the afternoon the ladies go to each
other's houses, paying visits as they call it,
to talk over strong coffee and sweet biscuits,
aboi4,thiegreat event; and the general con
clusion arrived at is that the priest must
have invested in a lottery and woo money
sinfully, or the burgomaster have taken a
bribe, or itlie_t doctor hive received money
from the apothecary on the condition of
writing expensive prescriptions. You may
imagine, my Lord Sheik, how disagreeable
circumstance it must have been fur so
well regulated a place as Grunweisel, when
man arrived there, of whom nobody knew
whence ho came; what he wanted. or how
he Jived. The burgomaster, to be sure, had
seen hie passport,—a paper which every ono
is obliged to have among us—
"ls it so unsafe in your streets," inter
rupted the Sheilri.'"that you require to have
afiraitaa from year sultan to inspire robbers
with respect?"
NO, my lord,—answered the slave;—these
papers are no protection against thieves, but
afro ,made necessary by the law, which re
quireelhat it must be known everywhere
who is who. Now, the burgomaster had
.examined the priirelmirl; and had declared at
ot,ereffee 'party at the doctor's, that it was
certainly correctly vised from Berlin to
terearleiel; but be feared tbere was some-
Atkimpbehindaor die Man had a very saspi-
AiOlia Jock boat him. The burgomaster
Autod Veat,autherity in the city, ,se it is AD
,matter or surprise' that in consequence the
stranger came to be regarded as a. very
doubtful character. Iris mode of life did
not tend to disabuse my countrymen of this
opinion. Ile hired a house for his exclusive
use put Into . ,it,a cart load of strange look
lig furniture, each as furnaces, sand-baths,
stacibles - and the like, and lived hencefor
ward-entirely alone. Way, be even did his
awn cooking, sad his house was entered by
na human being, except one old man of
Grunwiesel, wtiose duty it was to buy his
bread, moat and vegetables. Even this per
son was only admitted to the lower floor,
where the stranger mot him to receive his
purchases.
I was a boy of ten years of age when the
Winger took up his residence in our city;
and I can call to mind, as plainly as if it
had 44,ipppapti tut yesterday, th e excitement
the Ataxt OCCltsioned in the place. Igo never
came of an afternoon, like other people, to
the bowling green; never of an evening to
to the tavern, to talk of the times over his
pipe and tobacco. In vain did the burgo
master, the justice, the doctor, the priest,
each in his turn, in vito him to dinner or tea;
ho invariably begged to be excused. In con
sequence of all this, some people regarded
him as a desperado; some thought he must
be a Jew; and a third party declared with
great solemnity that he was a magician or
sorcerer. I grew to be eighteen, twenty
years old, and still the man was always
called in the city "The Stranger."
It happened, one day, that some people
came to the city with a collection of strange
animals. The troop which showed itself on
this occasion in Grunwiesel was distinguish
ed by the possession of a monstrous ourang
outang, nearly as large as a man, which
went on two legs, and knew all sorts of con
ning sleights of hand. It chanced that its
performances took place in front of the
stranger's house. When the drum and fife
sounded, ho made his appearance, at first
with visible vexation, behind the dark, d ust
begrimmed window of his residence. Soon,
however, he grew more amiable, and, open
ing his window, to everybody'sastonishment,
looked out and laughed heartily at the
ourang-outang's gambols. Nay, he paid so
large a piece of silver fur the entertainment
that the whole city talked of it.
The next morning the collection of ani
mals went on their way. They had scarcely
made a league on their journey, when the
stranger sent to the post-house, demanding,
to the postmaster's amazement, a post chaise
and horses, and set forth by the same gate
and on the same road taken by the mena
gerie. The whole city was furious at not
being able to learn whither ho was going.
It was night when the stranger again re
turned to the gate in the post-chaise. A
person was sitting with him in the vehicle,
with his hat pressed closely down over his
face, and his mouth and cars bound in a silk
handkerchief. The gate-keeper considered
it his duty to speak to the second stranger,
and demand his passport. Ifis answer was
surly, and growled out in sonic untelligible
language.
"It is my nephew," said the stranger po
litely, putting several silver coins in the
gate-keeper's hand; "he understands very
little German. What he said just now was
swearing at our being delayed here."
"All! if he is your nephew, sir," answered
the gatekeeper, "of course he can enter
without a passport. lie will live in your
house, no doubt?"
"Certainly," said the stranger; "and will
probably remain with me a long while."
The gate-keeper made no further opposi
tion, and the stranger and his nephew; passed
into the city. The burgomaster and the
whole town were much displeased with the
conduct of the gate-keeper. Ile should at
least have taken notice of the nephew's lan
guage; it would then have been an easy
matter to decide to what nation he and his
uncle belonged. The gate keeper asserted,
in reply to these complaints, that it was
neither Italian nor French, but had sounded
a good deal like English; and, unless his
ears bad deceived him, the younger gentle- i
man had said distinctly, "Pox-bif!" By
this the gate-keeper helped himself out of
his scrape, and, at the same time, assisted
the young man to a name, for nothing was
talked of now but the young Englishman.
The young man, however, was no greater
frequenter of the bowling-green or the tav
ern than his uncle was; but he furnished the
people much food for conversation in
another way. It happened new, not un
frequently, that in the hitherto silent
house would be heard a frightful uproar and
shrieking, so that the passers-by would stop
before the house in crowds, and gaze up at
the windows. The young Englishman would
be seen dressed in a red frock and green
trousers, his hair erect, and his appearance
indicating terror, running with great speed
through the rooms, from window to window,
the old stranger pursuing him with a hunt
ing whip in his hand, and often failing to
overtake him. But it sometimes seemed to
the crowd below that he had succeeded in
catching the young man; for they could
hear, issuing from the rooms above, cries of
anguish and sounds of blows. The ladies
of the city took such deep concern in this
cruel treatment of the youthful stranger,
that they induced the burgomaster at last to
take some notice of the affair. Ile wrote a
letter to the strange gentleman, in which he
alluded in vigorous terms to his harsh treat
ment of his nephew, and threatened him, in
case similar scenes continued to transpire,
with taking the unfortunate young man un
der his especial protection.
81 50
[~]
Imagine the surprise of the burgomaster
when he saw the stranger entering his doors
for the only time in ten years. The old gen
tleman excused Lis conduct towards his
nephew on the plea of the peculiar direc
tions of the parents of the young man who
had entrusted him with bis.education. He
stated that the youth was in most respects
clever and intelligent, but that he learned
languages with great difficulty; that be
wished so earnestly to make his nephew an
accomplished German scholar, that he might
afterward take the liberty to introduce him
into the society of Grunwiesel, and the pro
gress made by him was so discouraging.
that on many occasions there was no better
course to pursue than to beat it into hint by
a suitable castigation. The burgomaster
expressed himself perfectly satisfied with
this explanation, recommended a little more
"NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 26, 1
moderation in the infliction of chastisement,
and reported in the evening at the beer . ea
loon, that he had rarely met in his whole
life, a better-informed and more agreebble
gentleman than the stranger. "The only
pity is," he added, "that he goes so little
into society; but 1 think, as soon as his
nephew can speak a little German he will
visit our circle oftener."
By this single incident the opinion of the
city was completely changed. They re
garded the stranger as a well-bred man,
felt a desire to cultivate his acquaintance,
and considered it to be perfectly in order,
when now and then a frightful shriek was
heard to issue from thedesolatehouse. "He
is giving his nephew a lesson in German,"
the Grunwieselonians said, and went on
without paying further attention to the
matter. Three months passed by, and the
tuition in German seemed to have come to
a close; but the old man went a step further.
There lived in the city an old, infirm
Frenchman, who gave lessons in dancing to
the young people. This man the stranger
summoned to his house, and told him that
he desired him to teach his nephew to
dance.
There was nothing, the Frenchman se
cretly declared, so wonderful in all the
world as these dancing-lessons. The
nephew, a tall, slim, young man, with
rather short legs, made his appearance, he
said, in a red frock, his hair nicely curled,
wido trousers, and white gloves. He spoke
little, and with a foreign accent, and seemed,
in the beginning, rather intelligent and
docile; but he frequently broke out into the
most ridiculous leaps, dancing the wildest
tours, in which he made entrechals which
surpassed all the dancing masters ho had
ever seen or heard of. When it was at
tempted to check his extravagances, ho
would pull off the delicate dancing-shoes
from his feet, throw them at the French
man's head, and run round the chamber on
all fours. At the noise, the old gentleman
would rush out of his room, in a large, red
bed-gown, and a cap of gold paper
,on his
head, and lay his whip heavily over his
nephew's shoulders. The nephew would
at once aegin to howl in the most !rightful
manner, spring on the table and high book
cases, and even on the upper sashes of the
windows, and talk all the time a strange,
foreign language. The old gentleman
would give him no respite, but, seizing him
by the leg, would pull him down, beat him
soundly, and draw his neck-cloth tighter
round his neck by the buckle; after which
the nephew would become mannerly and
sober again, and the dancing-lesson go on
quietly to its close.
These dancing-lessons very nearly killed
the old Frenchman; but the dollar which he
regularly received and the good wino which
the old gentleman brought out, always took
him back to his pupil, often as ho resolved
never to set foot in the hateful 'house again.
The people of Grunwiesel looked on these
things very differently from the Frenchman.
They settled in their own minds that the
ycung gentleman possessed great talents
for society; and the ladies in the place all
congratulated themselves—suffering as they
did from a great lack of gentleman—on the
acquisition of so vigorous a dancer fur the
coming winter.
One morning, the nu.ids, returning from
market, described to their masters and
mistresses a singular incident. They had
seen an elegant carriage standing before
the stranger's house, and a servant in rich
livery bolding the step. Two gentleman
had entered the carriage, the servant sprung
into the boot behind, and the carriage—only
imagine it!--drove right off to the burgo_
master.
Everywhere people were in raptures with
the two strangers, and regretted only that
• they had not made their acquaintance
earlier. The old gentlemen showed him
self to be a well-bred, sensible man, who
laughed a little, to be sure, in everything
ho said, rendering it difficult to know
whether be was in jest or earnest; but who
talked of the weather, the scenery, and the
picnics to the cave in the mountain, so
politely and shrewdly that every one was
delighted. But the nephew! He bewitched
everybody; he won all hearts. As for his
exterior, it was impossible to call him ex
actly
. handsome. The lower part of his
face, especially his jaw, projected too far,
and his complexion was extremely dark;
while occasionally he made the most re
markable grimaces, shutting his eyes, and
snapping his teeth together queerly; but
people found the shape of his features ex
ceedingly interesting. "He is an English
man," people said; "they are all so. We
must not be too particular with an English
man."
Towards his old uncle he was wry sub
missive; for whenever be began to jump too
vivaciously about the room, or as he seemed
particularly inclined to do, draw his feet
up under him on his chair, a single stern
glance from the old man served to bring
him to order at once. And how could one
be angry with the young man, when his
uncle, in every house, said to the lady,
"My nephew is still a little raw and
ill
bred, Madam; but I anticipate much from
the mollifying effect produced by your
society, and I implore your forgiveness for
any gaucheries he may happen to be guilty
of.
Thus was the nephew at length intro
duced to the gay world, and all Grunwianel
spoke of nothing else fur the two following
days but this great event. The old gentle-
man renounced his habits of retirement,
and seemed to have wholly, altered his
modes of thought and life. In the after
noons he went, with his nephew, to the
cave in the mountain, where the more im
portant citizens of Grunwiesel drank beer
and rolled ninepins. Here the nephew
showed himself a skillful master of the
game; for he never threw less than five or
six balls. Ozcasionally a strange humor
seized him. It happened, more than once,
that he rushed like an arrow down among
the ninepins with one of the balls, making
a dreadful racket, and when he made a
spare or a ten-strike, the fancy sometimes
came over him to stand erect on his nicely
curled head, and extend his legs high into
the air; or, if a carriage happened to pass,
before one knew what he was about be
would be seen sitting on the top of the
vehicle, making the most ludicrous grim
aces, and, after riding on a short distance,
return, with prodigious leaps and bounds,
to the party he had quitted.
The old gentleman, at such incidents as
these, was wont to beg her ten thousand
pardons of the burgomaster and the other
gentleman, for his nephew's eccentricities.
They, in reply, would laugh, ascribe such
conduct to his youthful spirits, declare they
had been just the same in their youth, and
admire the young spriogal, as they called
him, immensely.
In this way the nephew of the stranger
came, before long, to be held in high favor
in the city and environs. No one could re
call over having seen a young man like
him in Grunwiesel before; and he was, in
deed, the strongest appnration which had
ever visited their borders. No one could
accuse him of cultivation, of any possible
kind, except, perhaps, a little dancing.
Latin and Greek were both Greek to him.
At a round game at the burgomaster's
house, it once fell to his lot to be obliged to
write something, and it was found that ho
could not even sign his name. In geography
he made the most stupendous blunders;
fur he made no hesitation in locating a Ger
man city in France, or a Danish one in
Poland. Ho had rend nothing; he had
studied nothing; and the priest often shook
his head significantly over the dreadful ig
norance of the young gentleman. Still, in
spite of this, evelything he said and did
was held to be excellent, for ho was impu
dent enough to insist always on being
right, and the last words of every remark
he made were: "I understand this: much
better than you."
The scones of his greatest triumphs,
however, wore the Grunwiesel balls. No
one danced so perseveringly, none so vigor
ously as ho; no one made such bold, such
graceful jumps. Ills uncle dressed him fur
such occasions in the newostand handsomest
fash'ons, and, although it was impossible
to make his clothes fit, yet everybody con
sidered his dress charming. The gentle
men, to be sure, took offence, at these balls,
at the now style which he introduced.
I Hitherto the burgomaster bad always
! opened the ball in person, and the most
highly-born young men exercised the right
of regulating the rest of the dances; but
since the young Englishman's arrival, a
total change had been brought about. Ile
would seize the prettiest girl by the hand
without leave or license, take his place with
her in the figure, manage everything pre
cisely as ho pleased, and constitute him
self, without ceremony, lord, master, and
, king of the ball. But as the ladies found
these manners extremely elegant, the young
men dared not venture on resistance, and
the eccentric nephew retained unopposed
his self-assumed dignity and rank.
Such was the behavior adopted by the
nephew at balls and parties in Grunweisel.
As is too often the case in other matters,
bad habits come into vogue much easier
than good ones, and a new and striking
fashion, especially if it be ridiculous, has
ever something in it highly attractive for
the young, who have not yet formed an
accurate or sensible judgment of themselves
and the-world: So it was in Grunwiesel
with the nephew and his extraordinary
manners. For, when the younger world
perceived that the young stranger won
more admiration than he incurred rebuke
or his awkWard habits, his load laughter,
and his insolent answers to his seniors, and
that these passed merely as, evidences of
his Spirituel nature, they thought to them
selves: "Nothing is easier than to make
myself exactly such another spirtuel brute."
They had formerly been industrious, clever
youths; but now they thought: "Of what
use is learning, when ignorance conics a
man so much further" So, abandoning
their books, they spent their time in dissi
pation on the streets.
Till now, the Grunwiesel young men bad
entertained a proper dislike to a rough and
vulgar demeanor; now they sang rill sorts
of vile songs, smoked huge pipes of tobacco,
and spent much time in low pot•houses, for
with them they resembled the young
Englishman. At home, or on a visit, they
lay down in boots and spars on the otto
mans; at assemblies they tilted their chairs,
or put both elbows on the table, in vain
their older friends represented to them how
foolish, how disgraceful this behavior was;
they referred to the shining ernmple of the
nephew. It was said to them, in vain, that
a certain degree of rudeness •must be for
given in the nephew, in consideration of
his English birth; the young Grunwieselo
nians declared that they had as good a
right as the best Englishman in the world
to be vulgar in a spirituel way. In short,
it was a general complaint that gentlemanly
breeding and behavior had been entirely
eradicated from Grunwiesel by the evil
example of the young stranger.
But the pleasure of the young men, in
their rude and reckless life, was of short
duration, for the following incident changed
the whole aspect of affairs. A great con
cert was resolved upon, to close the winter
amusements, to be given partly by the
regular city musicians, partly by skillful
amateurs of Grunwiesel. The burgomaster
played the violoncello, the doctor the bas
soon, with great skill, the apothecary,
though he had no ear, blew the flute, several
young ladies of the city had studied arias,
and every preliminary had been carefully
arranged. The old stranger expressed the
opinion, that, though doubtless the concert
would be admirable as it was, ho noticed
that no duett was included in the pro
gramme, and that a duett was, as every one
knew, a necessarg element of every concert.
This opinion occasioned a good deal of
embarrassment. The burgomaster's daugh
ter, to be sure, sang like a nightingale; but
where was the gentleman who could sing n
duett with her? They thought, at last, of
falling back on the old organist; who had
sung an excellent bass in former days; but
the stranger announced that all this anxiety
was needless, fur his nephew bad a voice of
surprising cultivation and power. The
duett, therefore, was studied with all haste,
and the evening at leligth arrived, on which
the ears of the people of GrUnwiesel were
to be enraptured by the concert.
The old stranger was unable to be present
at his nephew's triumph, in consequence of
illness, but he gave to the burgomaster, who
visited him during the day, some rules fur
the guidance of his eccentric relative.—
"lie is a good soul," said he; "but now and
then he is seized with some strange notions,
and breaks out into the wildest freaks. I
regret, extremely, my inability to be pres
ent at the concert this evening, for his de
meanor is perfectly deeorus while I am by.
lle well knows why, the scamp! Let me
assure ycur excellency that this vivacity of
his is not a mental vice, but merely a bodily
infirmity. Whenever, therefore, any such
humor seizes him, so that he scats himself
on a music -stand, or attempts to knock
down the contra-lass, or the like, if your
excellency would take the trouble to loosen
his cravat a little, or, if nothing better can
be done, take it off altogether, you will see
how quiet and well-bred he will at once be
come."
The burgomaster thanked the sick man
for his confidence, and promised, in case
the necessity arose, to follow his directions
to the letter.
Part first of the concert was over, and
everybody was on the tenter honks of ex
pectation fur the second, in which the young
Eng,lislaman was to perform a duet with the
burgomaster's daughter. The nephew had
made his appearance in gorgeous costume,
and had long ago drawn upon himself the
attention of all present. Ile had thrown
himself down, without the slightest cere
mony, in the elegant armchair provided fur
a countess of the vicinity, and, stretching
his legs to their full length, had stared the
audience out of countenance through a huge
opera-glass which he- had provided in ad
dition to his ordinary spectacles, playing
incessantly, meanwhile, with a large mas
tiff which he had persisted in introducing
in spite of the regulations prohibiting all
such animals. The countess, fur whom the
arm-chair had been provided, soon appeared
but the young Englishman made no move
ment to resign his seat. On the contrary,
be only assumed a more comfortable atti
tude; and no ono present ventured to re
buke his insolence. The distinguished lady
I was consequently obliged to take her seat
in an ordinary cane chair among the other
ladies of the city, in a state of intense and
natural indignation.
No wonder, therefore, that everybody
was curious to see how lie would succeed
with his duet. The second part began: the
city musicians played the introductory bars,
and now the burgomaster led up his daugh
ter to the young Englishman, and, handing
him a sheet of music, said to him, "My dear
air, are you disposed to begin the duett?"
The stranger laughed, showed his teeth,
and, springing up, preceeded the two others
to the music -stand, while the audience was
filled with excitement and anticipation.—
The organist beat the time, and nodded to
the Englishman to begin. The latter looked
at the music through his spectacles a mo
ment, and gave utterance to some hideous
and melancholy howls; whereupon, the or
ganist shouted to him; "Two notes lower,
your honor; C;—you must sing C."
Instead of singing C, the stranger pulled
off one of his shoes and flung it at the or•
gnniet't head, making the powder fly in
clouds. Seeing this the burgomaster thought
to himself: "Ha! his bodily infirmity has
got hold of him again;" and, seizing
by the neck, he loosened the buckle of his
cravat. But, at this, the young man's con
duct became more and more outrageous.—
Ha dropped the use of German, and con
fined himself to an extraordinary and un
intelligible language, taking all the while
the most tremendous leaps. The burgo
master was in despair at this unpleasant
interruption to the entertainment, and in
stantly resolved to take off" entirely the cra
vat of the young Englishman, whom some
unusually violent paroxysm mold have sod-
$1,50 - PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE
OM
denly seized. But no sooner had he done
this, than he started back aghast. Instead
of a human skin and complexion, a dark
brown fur enveloped the neck of the youth
ful stranger, who instantly proceeded upon
still higher and more marvellous leaps: and,
twisting his white gloves into his hair, he
pulled it entirely off, and, wonder of won
ders! this beautiful hair was only a wig,
which he threw into the burgomaster's face.
and his head made its appearance clothed in
the same brown fur as his neck.
He overturned tables and benches, threw
down music -stands, smashed the fiddles and
clarinets, and in short behaved like a lu
natic. "Seize him! seize him!" shouted the
burgomaster, beside himself; "be is rasing;
—seize him!" This, however, was a diffi
cult matter, for he had pulled off his gloves
and showed his brown hands, arme•l with
frightful nails, with which he assaulted the
faces of the company. A courageous hunts
man at length succeeded in taking him pris
oner. He pressed his long arms down to
his sides, so that he could do nothing ex
cept struggle fiercely with his feet, and
laugh and shriek in a piercing :voice. The
audience gathered round to look at the ec
centric young gentleman, who by this time
had lost every semblance of a human being.
Among them, a learned gentleman of the
environs, who possessed a large collection
of stuffed animals, approached him and,
after a close examination, suddenly ex
claimed, "Good God! ladies and gentlemen,
why do you admit this beast into good so
ciety? This is an ape, the homo triglodities
Linna , i, and I will give you six dollars fur
him if you like and stuff him for my cabi
net."
Fancy the astonishment of the citizens of
Grunwiesel, when they heard this. "What!
an ape, an orang-outang in our beat society!
The young Englishman nothing but a filthy
ape!" They stared at each other in dumb
bewilderment. They could not believe it;
they would not believe it; they would not
trust their eyes, and they examined the an
imal more narrowly; , but, gaze as they
pleased, a vulgar ape he was, and a vulgar
ape he remained.
"It must be sorcery, devilish, si—eel.y?"
said the burgomaster, bringing the ape's
cravat. "Look? here in this cravat lies the'
witchcraft which has blinded our eyes.—
Ilere is a broad strip of parchment, in
scribed with strange characters. It is Latin
I believe; can anybody read it?"
The pastor, a man of extensive learning,
who had often lost a game of chess to the
young Englishman, stepped up, and, looking
at the parchment said, "Certainly, this is
Latin, and means:
• Phis ape 14 0 very• ridlealnwe creature.
A lid to see through and shun false p retensi,ns tt•Ill teach
"Ay, ay, it is nn infernal swindle; in
itself a species of witchcraft," he continued
"and should meet with exemplary punish•
mut."
The burgomaster was of the same opin
ion, and started forthwith to arrest the
stranger, who could be nothing but u. magi
cian. Six soldiers carried the ape, for they
were determined to bring the old scoundrel
to instant trial.
They reached the desolate house, followed
by a crowd of people, for every one wanted
to see how the affair would end. They
knocked at the door, they pulled the bell;
but all in vain—no one showed himself in
answer to their appeals. The burgomaster
finally caused the door to be beaten in, and
mounted to the sick man's chamber. Noth
ing was to be seen but old, worthless house
hold rubbish. The stranger had vanished.
On his writing-table, howeter, lay a large.
sealed letter, addressed to the burgomaster,
which the latter opened. He read:
"31v DEAR. GRUNIVIE9EIMSJANS: When
you read this I shall be no longer in your
village, and you will have discovered the
rank and nation of my darling nephew.—
Take the joke which I have ventured to play
upon you as a good lesson not to inast on
inflicting your society upon a stranger,
when he wishes to live in retirement. I
felt myself too well-bred to Le involved in
your eternal tattle, your bad manners, and
your ridiculous customs. I procured, there
fore, the young orang-outang, whom you
have caressed so affectionately, to act as my
substitute. Frewell, my friends, and lay
this lesson to heart."
The citizens of Orunwiesel were the
laughing-stuck of the whole country, and
felt intensely mortified. Their consolation
was, that all this was brought about by su
pernatural means. But the greatest con
fusion wee felt by the young men of the
city, fur they had made the bad !canners
of the beastly ape the object of their ap
proval and imitation. Henceforth they
ceased to lean their elbows on the table:
they balanced themselves no longer on their
chairs; they were silent till addressed, and
became modest and civil as of old; and it
became a byword with the Orunwieseloni-
IMP, when any one showed signs of relap
sing into such vulgar and ridiculous! Timed
ces, to call him "the old gentleman's ape."
Tha orang-outang, who had played so
long the part of a gentleman of fashion,
was handed over to the proprietor of the
cabinet of natural history. This 'gentleman
feeds him, gives him the run of his yard,
and shows him to every stranger as a great
rarity; and there Le is to be seen to the
present day.
RIM.FROIt OCR NEW Dic-rtostssr.—Dog
stealing "in the second degree"—booking
sausages.
[WHOLE NUMBER, 1,491.
Trom the N. Y. Spiro. of the TIMMS
The Cunning Buck of Twelcepole.
I had to transact some business at the
County Surveyor's, and so I mounted my
horse to ride there. I had just passed the
ford, and was riding over the gravely shoal
between the islands, when I heard a horse
splashing its way through the water behind
me. So soon as it struck the shore, I re
cognized the noise of the hoofs, and knew it
to be Turkey Slather's clay bank mare.
which had a peculiar and original gait, cu
riously compounded of pace, trot and thufle.
So I drew rein and waited.
"G wino over to &audy, ole hour" in
quired Turkey, as he joined me. "Them
Marrowbone fullers allowed you'd bin over
thar long afore this. Bur'! Chaffin' was
alio' fur you 3-isterday. lle sed he hadn't
hearn tell uv you, much less clapt eyes on
you for over two munthq. I tole him you'd
staid so long in tuwu you'd dried up, au'
that last high wind had jest Wowed you off
down Govan."
••I intend to go over to Marrovrb nes
shortly, Turkey; but to-day I am only going
up the creek a little way. Aro you off for
home?"
"Certingly. I've drunk the last drop
there was in town, an' ye don't see me back,
ontwell they brings in a few more uv them
pooty blue-headed bar'ls. Nyste stuff, too.
they hoops in 'em—warranted to kill every
pop—sure in ucry dose, from one to twenty
—an' misses nary time. whether you take it
X.lverend or mixt. El I wasn't proof agin
o' vitril, and akky fortis, an' struoknine,
I'd a bin dead long ego. An' that 'mines
me that 1 hey a nose sarious affair on han'.
I kin tell you somethin' whooteh don'toccur
freekwently. The father of inequity, 010
Satan hisself, is in Logan county, an' uses
princip'ly on the main fork of Twelve Polo
—l'm dog zoned of he don't.
"How so, Turkey?"
"You 'member me to lin' you, t'other day,
how I'd seen the tracts uv the moso auda
ciousest, biggest, bustinest, kine uv buck,
at the head uv the cane patch holler, ferent
Billy Ivinses' narrow bottom field?"
"I think I do."
"Well, that's him—that's Satan on four
legs. Olil you need'idquerl the corner uv
yer mouth, an' twist the baird on yer upper
lip! He's this; an' so strong that our sirkit
rider could'nt:preach hint down in tqmonth.
Yes sir?"
Let us hns'e the particulars, Turkey?
"Yer see," continued Turkey, "the fust
time r noticed sign ur that buck was about
a fortnight ago. I was gwia,a up a dry
branch one day, in the cane-patch holler,
lookin' for some two year olds, whootch
hed'nt conic down to saltite an' sposed had
stayed outen range. I had my rifle along,
for I allowed to git a leetle deer meat; an'
as I come high up the in muting, over agin
Browning's' jest as I arrir at the top shelf,
I seed the master sign uv deer. I sez to
myself, of that ain't as bigan as elkyou kin
kill me with a stock of boss weed, ate I am
to have his hide. 1 flower seed nothite like
it afore. I drapt all notion of the cattil
an' followed the trail. Well, it led 'me,
slentin' like, clean through a gap, an'
then down uv the ridge an' down a locust
holler, on Twelve Pule side—the snakiest
plaint you over seed. I reckin I must her
seairt up about two hundred copperheads,
an' as f.r rattlesnakes—well, they was nu
merous. You could jest hear em rattlin' all
the way down like rain-drops on a new
shingle ruf. Inert I got down to the water
the sign giv out. I crest over the evict, an
thar was the same sign agiu'—only it pinted
int/ter tray.
"Two icor had met, and joined each other
in the crick," said I.
"That was my judgement," replied Tur
key, "an' thars whar I was fouled. You
ice, I thought this buck had met the doe—
; an' she was a Crowder, toe--an' the psr'uv
them had tuck the water, an' seeio' the sip'
pinted that way, had gone down stream. I
jest went up an' down that stream for one
level hour, an' could'nt coo no sign nowhar
on either bank. Whar the two had tuck
theirselfs to, was too shoal for my kunnoo.
I lookt TOUT) . an' I debit-ted on the affair,
' and I come to the conclusion, that I could'nt
come to no conclusion about it—onless the
par or animals had flew off, or lep clean
over the mounting at one jump. So I give
it up at long last, an' went hunting the
whootch I foun' up to their eyes in
n ferren pastor, an' I driv"em within range.
"Well, you may know that the whole
1
affar was cur'ous, an' pestered me mightily,
an' I could'nt sleep that night thiukin'
about it, an' nes.' day I sez to Larisey,
gwine to look up that buck, or the par uv
'cm, as the case may be, tin' mebbo I'll
sample his gizzard with sixty to the pours'.'
An'-sez Lavisey, 'You won't find any
diffi
kitty, I reckin', for there's three yincbes
more snow on the group' las night, an' all
fresh sign 'ii be mighty plain.' So arter
breakfuss, I tuck an' put in a splinter new
flint—you know I nuvver kerry none uv
them fool 'cussiun guns—an' I started.
"I tuok down the main crick a spell, an'
then up a drain, an' follered the ridge fur
about two mile. Tereckly, on the low gap,
whar a. branch uv the Trace Fork heads up,
I sees the sign deep in the snow. It led
clar down to the Trace, an' I crest thar,,
lookin' to see it on t'other side. Thar iI
wnz, shore enough; but like it was before,
pynting lath: way. I allowed, nv course,
as I done afore, that the buck had been
jioed by Lie mate, an' from the way the
e;gn come, both had gone down stream. I