SSILWEIE 'no
, 20.9Tr&STUDdLe
WEDNESDAY. MAY 27. 1846
[Written for the Bradford Reporter.]
Fora Tres and Flowering Shrubs of Bradford
County.
Woodman ! spare that tree."
Munn. EDITORS.—Among the many attractions of
our forests at this season of the year is the return and
netting of migrating birds. It is surprising to see with
what exactness each species of bird will return from its
wintry visit to the "sunny south," and appear w i t h i ts
cheerful wildwood notes in.the same hedge, dell or forest
von the proceeding year. From =lenders which have
been kept by those who are curious in such matters, it
seems that at fixed days we ^Easy expect each warbler
home from his wanderings. lot " the Start in the heay.
ens knoweth her appointed times; and the Crane, and
the Turtle, observe their time of coming."
There is a mystery that hangs over the migration of
finis. Their summer residence with us makes them
seem as if they were of our own household. Their
homes havepteen in our forests, in our gardens, in our
tarns, and every where about us. Some have cheered
with their early morning song. Some sing to allure
11l from the sultry noon-day am, to the inviting finest
dnk, while others give their sweetest notes at close of
the departing day.
Each selects his own favorite tree and sings away his
simmer hours as if he knew no unhappiness. I wonder
that any one should ever think of destroying their nests;
for my part I would be willing to set a tree or hash apart
in my yard or fields for every wild bird that lives, if they
would but make their summer homes with me. I would
learn from them lessona of domestic happiness ; their
miming song would allure me. to my early employment
—my rn-day siesta should be under the time shade,
and their last notes at evening should lull me too, to re-
Bat I am not speaking of binds as the only "unction
of us foreds ;_they but add their share to the woodland's
charm, and warble in their varied notes the some praise
that glistens in the , dew-drop, trembles in the leaf; or
smiles in the flowers. Each speaks of its maker's praise
In its own language, and while our associations with
them should soften the aspirations of our nature's, they
insensibly draw our affections to the source of every
brainy and of every charm, for
" Vt'hoso meth for the Gowen,
Wlll core much more for Him."
Aiming the many noble trees of our forest the Oak
Abtercua) stands pm-eminent. This tree has been
celebrated from the earliest ages for its beauty, its dura
bility and its strength. The genus embraces more than
one hundred species, and more than one half that num
ber are found in the United States. Among them is
the lofty tree whose branches overtop our forests, and the
dwarfish shrub whose height at maturity is but a span:
The Oak flowers early in. May and has its blossom!
en Lane pendolotis catkins which fell just at the time. of
leafing. It is oneof the class of trees whose blots:Utile
en tke same tree are of two kinds—pistillate andaftinti
nate, or u they are often termed, male and female= t he
slamirtate being the male, and the pistillate the fesiak
flower: Each pistillate or fertile flowers contains the
rudiments of sin seeds but they seldom perfect mote tlito
one. Thu seed is the acorn which is a little semi-oral
knot, standing in a hemispherical cup to which it haat ?
tutted at its base. These acorns become ripe in Oclo,
betrwhen they fall to - the ground. They are oily, bitter
but malicious.
I shall not perhaps be able to describe the entire list of
Oaks that we have in our county, bat will give a few of
Our mmt - trmmon species. Among these the White
Oak (Queerer, Atha . ) is perhaps the prevailing tree.—
This tree often attains the height of seventy oreighty
feet, with a diameter of six feet when the soil and cli
mate am favorable. Its bark is variegated with light and
dark spots, and its heart wood is of • reddish color but
us sae wood is nearly white. The wood of this tree is
mere generally used for timber tbansmy other species-of
genii■, it being strong, durable, and of large di
mension.. It is used for nearly every article manufac
tured by the wheelright, and the young and thrifty tim
ber is en elastic, as to be useful for baskets, chair seats,
hoop., and all other purposes where strength and elasti
city- and minute division are required. It is also exten-
Softy used in ship building. The bark is astringent - and
is awful in tanning, but is seldom used as it has not the
thickness of the red and black oaks.
The leaves of this tree are divided into rounded lobes,
and when they first put forth in the spring, they have a
mg) red appearance 'above, and are white and downy
beneath, but when they are full grown they are of •
light green until autumn, when they change to • violet
or Purple, and some of them remain on the trees till
In open situations the white oak has a handsome top
ic forms an ornamental tree. The celebrated oak at Hart
fad, Ct., is of this specie'. It is a large spreading tree,
eith a . abort trunk and was of a great age at the early
entlement of New England. Its association with the
colonial history of Conn., will long keep it in remain.
bum
Next to the white oak the Black Oak (Q. 'lindoriti)
Or the most importance in the forests of our county.—
This tree attains the size of the white oak—has a dark
brown bark—leaves largely and deeply gashed which
change from a deep green to a dull red or yellow in au-
Mem—accans io clusters which are half buried in a thick
'mil cup—and produces fruit once in two years.
For timber this is not so valuable as the white a& ; it
is mad however for staves, fuel, and some other Fur'
m t i and its bask is extsnaimely need for tanning. Its 05-
ne lmmedeceri far this purpose is its yellow color
n hich seal wore leather tanned with it to stain unleee
the color is discharged. A valuable dye is also extracted
boa ita bark adled guercitrcrn. 1
The leaves Odds tree often contain a green globular
t i 9 MdelM called oak-balls, or oak-apples. The gall nuts
are abo found on the leaves of the oak. There are cc
cuienni bY an insect that makes a small perforation on
the under side of the leaf and deposits an egg in the sub
'm of !h 0 leaf. When the ball grows the egg be
comes a worm, and ga g lames through all the metszooe•
Phases of its nature till it eats its way oat and becomes
like its parent, a flying insect. Gall nub are &tong the
most powerful astringents and they have the properly of
"int Inters* 'Welt contain iron in solution black.-
1.67 ne employed in the arta and in medicine.
THE.. BRADFORD REPORTER,
We have also in our forests the Red Oak (Q. Rubra )
Which is a large tree; the Swamp White Oak (Q. Bi
color) which grows in and about swamps; the Starlet
Oak (Q:Coccirrea); the Barren Scrub Oak (Q . 1111-
m:folio) which is a mere shrub; the Bark Chestuut Oak
(Q. Montana) and perhaps some other species.
The Oak is a genus of tnres . cif which some species
are found in nearly every latitude of both hemispheres.
One of its species the Live Oak (Q. Veen) ts found
in Florida and Louisansi, which is the most valuable of
all timber for ship building. It is very durable and so
heavy that to Wince its excessive weight, red is joined
with it, which is'very light.
To this genus also belongs the Cork tree (Q . Suber )
of the south of Europe. It is from the bark of this tree
that the corks of common are made.
Many historical incidents of much interest are also
eiated with the Oak, and it was regarded with religious
veneration by the ancient Druids as being the supporter
of the Misseltee, which was an object of worship by
them. It has ever held the same rank among forest
trees that the lion dues among beasts and the eagle
among birds. As an ornamental tree it claims the first
rank, being beautiful in its proportions, clean and neat
in its foliage, and so long lived that many generations
may enjoy its shades. It is easily cultivated from its
acorns, or it may be transplanted with Success fmrn our
native wilds. Whole grounds in England have been
thus grown, and its Oaks enjoy, the protection of the
government. Our American. forrests are abundantly
supplied with this tree, but the ruthlessness with which
they are destroyed will in a short time produce a scar
city of them here, unless some protecting hand shall
stay their useless destruction. H.
Towanda, May 20th 1846.
[From Blackwood's Magazine.]
FOREIGNERS IN LONDON.
England ! home of the free, asylum of the
brave, telege of refugees, and so forth—in he
roic prose, and yet more heroic verse, what fine
things have and may be said and sung on this
self-gorifying subject, to the great joy of the
gods and goddesses in the Is and 2s . galleries
Something about slaves being free the moment
they touch British soil, regenerated, disenthrall
ed by the genius universal emancipation, or
some such stuff ; we are not sure whether the
pas age occurs in C.urian's speeches or Tom
Thumb , but it takes pit, boxes, and gallety by
storm, upon all occasions ; it is truly delightful
to witness the ardor with which a British audi
tory- compliments itself upon its excursive hu
manity, transmarine benevolene, and free trade
philanthropy !
There is a disease well known to opitcia*
wherein the patient can see diiiincily objects 'a
great way off, but is quite incapable of distin
guishing such as lie immediately under his nose;
the artist applies a. spectacle of peculiar con
struction to remedy this defect ; we think it
would be a vast advantage to the public in gen
eral if ingenious opticians would rum their at
tention to a remedy fur that long-sighted benevo
lence which sweeps the horizon fur objects of
compassion, but is blind as a bat to the wretch
edness and destitution abounding at their own
doors. We confess we think there is an affec
tation in this gad-about benevolence of which
we see now-a-days so much—too much : there
seems about it that sort of pitiful ostentation.
Which induces a poor gentleman to ask every
body he meets to dinner, when he has not din
ner enough for his own family at borne. W
confess we are of opinion that charity, though
it need not end, should begin at home ; and that
it is time enough when severe distress has been
relieved at our own door in walk to the other
end of the earth in search of foreign beggars.—
There'is,no doubt, a highly gratifying pride in
seeing this free and happy country, the asylum
of fallen royalty and discomfited revolutionists
—the home of the brave and of the knave—the
polar star of wondering Poles and refugees of
all ranks, climes, colors, and qations ; but. with
great respect for Lord Dudley Stuart. there is
an order of precedence in charity as in nobility ;
our fellow countrymen demand the pas, and
there is quite enough of misery. if we look fur
it, within the scope of our visible horizon; when
we have relieved the pressing necessities of our
indigenous tribes, it is quite time enough totcast
about for exotics wherewith to occupy our over
flowing benevolence.
%Ye, know, of course, that it is nauseous and
emetical to be told that our • fellow-countrymen
starve outside our gates ; such recital of domestic
misery interfere with the process of digestion,
and,, like the sad realities of another place, should '
never be mentioned in the hearing of ears polite.
Nothing can be more vulgar, uninteresting, and
anti-sentimental, than the distress of Hicks,
Higgins, Figgins, and Stubbs, and all weavers
and others who are neither nobles nor refugees
—who are vulgar enough to work if they can
get it—who wear no bristles between their noses
and lips, and who have no; names' , ending in
rinski •
If you stroll down Regent-streeU the Quad
rant, and Waterloo-place. any firte afternoon.
you cannot fail to remark vast oniabers of exo
tics in glossy black silk hats. with: moustaches
and whiskers to match. hard inexpressive coats,
flash satin vests, unwhisperables plaited ridicu
lously over the hips, glazed leather boots, and
a profusion of Brimingham jewelry and Bristol
stones. These gentry smoke very fast, talk
very loud, or rather chatter intolerably, and look
killing and impudent at the ladies as they pass.
There is a polished brass knocker ar the cor
ner of Grosvenor square. which; when we have
titivated with a burned cork, asiwe usually do
when passing that way, seems the common an
cestor of these gentry ; certainly they are great
fellows, and it is difficult to conceive that the
own is not their own. Like Sampson. their
strength lies in their hair ; flowing locks, well
oiled, brushed and curled. from a fair porpor.
lion of their general stock in trade. By their
fashion of wearing their hair you may' get at
their politics. The Bonapartist is known by a
abort bristly moustache and staring hair, /a June
France is represented by young gentlemen wear
ing their hair clubbishly, after the fashion of
The Jacobins—these posteriorly hirsute gentry
are Republicans to a man ; partizans of the ex
isting dynasty wear whiskers a/a Louis Phil.
lippe, and cut the moustache ; the Legitimatists
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. & H. P. GOODRICH.
" REGARDLSB9 OP DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
may at once be recognised by dressing like gen
tlemen.
In the .roffee-house about this Frenehified
neighborhAl, the gentlemen we have been intro
ducing to the reader, abound in such numbers
as to make it necessary to set aside a " pre
France" in each, for their particular accommo
dation. Here, under the auspices of a " Napo
leon le Grand," in plaster of Paris, crowned with
wreath of immortelles, they play dominoes and
smoke and read the Charivari.L . Anti Peu
plc. and Le National. and may be heard any
night in the week, especially nn Sundays dis
cussing politics and things in general, somewhat
in the matter and form following, that is to say:
" Parlous done de la guerre ?—Viil you bring
me une demitasse cafe, et von grande circon
ference de toast, buttered on de von side and de
oder ?—la grusse bete, Louis Phillippe ! Ah !
Bait I—Mon Dieu ! Sscre bleu—Ha ! ha !—
have you never got two pennies to giv me for
one half penny ? a bas less tyrans !--dem bad
cafe ! apropos de duties, parlons de—vous la
trouverez, je vuus en assure, la Societic d'As
sassing du Rio, homilies pleins d'honneur—shall
it rain yesterday ?—I fink it vash—la groese
poire, Louts Phil—Sacre nom de—Too, too,
my littel deer. viii you not give me von little ?
—he ! he ! he !—Chansons—tira la la !—tira
la la !—Savez.
Italians do not muster sufficiently strong here
to enable us to depict their peculiarities en infu
se ; nor is there any very striking individuality,
still less any marked nationality, giving them
particular claims upon our notice. The priva
tion of a national character never fails to have a
bad effect upon the character of the individual ;
it is not merely upon the nation that oppression
marks its brand of ignominy, but upon every
man, woman, and child belonging to the nation
which is enslaved. When a people no longer
boasts national interests. their pride takes fire
at the expense of their fellow-countrymen of the
next province ; and thus it is with Italy ; the
Milanese looks with dislike upon the Venetian.
the Venetian despises the Bolognese...the latter
shuns comparison with the serfs of the church.
The Calabrian Highlander abhors the cowardly
ragamutlinry_ of the Two Sicilies, although re
luctantly submitting to their dominion. The
Florentine. rich in the fertility of his exhaust
less soil, and supplied abundantly with the
necessaries of existence, pities and despises the
other children of fair Italy. Yet Italy must ever
assert her supremacy. Italy, once glorious in
the songs of Horace and Virgil, and again in the
strains of Dante and Ariosto, now, alas !
in the flexile trills of a tantalizing
8400ra. and finds her greatest and most renown
*fflan within the girdle that embraces the vast
circumference of the large Lablache. From the
eolithWO - Elbe .cirears, they have descended to
the snpreniacy of cameo cutters ; from the Me
telli we atinipintontemplate Mosaics ; workers
tufa replace the Tirtitlins ; Balladio is represent
ed dy artificers in Cork ; Dante and Petrarch i
by the jingling mprgoisatori ; the legions of
the empire by multitudes of friars and priests ;
Michael Angelo is a man of alabaster images :
Raphael, the' divine,' a copier of old masters
for the American market.
The Savoyaids are noted as the metropolists
of our out-of-doors music—the minstrels of the
streets and lanes, the grinders of intrinsic har
mony ; hateful are they in the sight of porters
of Inns of Court, and much beloved of little
children and nursery maids ; frumpish old maids
and bitter bachelors, who have no music in their
souls, drive them away; rudely from their in
hospitable doors ; but tender mothers with ma
ny little ones welcome them on each returning
Saturday, with half-pennies, crusts, and cheese.
parings ; pitying them, wanderers far from their
friends and native land ; while circumabitant in
fancy and childhood congregate around the smil
ing minstrels, melted by the pathetic cadences
of " All round my hat," or stimulated to saltato
ry exortations by the toe-and-heel inspiring air
of " Jump Jim Crow." Their little rotund
chubby faces beaming with smiles ; the poor
grinder, though hungry, perchance, of cold, re
sponding to their merriment with a hop, skip
and jump, an accompanying whistle, and a good
humored grin ; the affectionate mothers in the
back-ground looking on with that look of min
gled pride and tenderness ; the mother's own ex
pression—make a picture we often stop to gaze
at, wishing for the pencil ota Wilkie. The
Savoyared, among whom, by the way, are com
prised Tyrolese, Genoese. Sardinians, and Ital
ians proper, hiie their ambitions like other men;
one is happy in the possession of a pair of white
-mice—another glorifies in the trieks of a mis
chievous monkey ; all grades of mechanical mu
sic belong to them, the discordant hurdy-furdy
to the organ imitative of 'a full band. The ne
plus ultra of their art, however, is the conduct
of their " comedi," as they call it, which, being
interpreted, meaneth no more nor less than the
puppet show. The popularity of these exhi
bitions, though considerable, never rise to that
hight of enthusiasm wherewith our populace re
ceive the immortal Punch, now naturalized in
our northern clime, and, to the manner of the
people, adapted, if notborn.
The poor Skoyards are eminently gregar
ious, huddlinefogether in narrow courts and
alleys on the northern side of Holborn, whence
you may see them set out in groups, on Sunday
mornings, for Primrose Hill, Hampstead. and
Highgate, where, in the shady woods or sunny
meadows, they idle away the livelong summer's
day, indulging in fond remembrances of their
far distant mountain-home, and laying up in their
pulmonary apparatus as much fresh :liras serves
them for the week ensuing. It is truly miracu
lous how those poor ereatnres make out to live.
paying as they do, extortionate sums for the
use of their music-mills to those who make a
trade of lettingithem out for hire, faring hard, ill
lodged, and exposed to all weathers ; yet they
do struggle on in the hope of saving a few pounds
wherewith to support their aged parents. or set
tle themselves for life in the pleasant valleys they
have left behind.
Spaniards we see little of in London : they
form a very minute fraction of the adventuring
foteignets who swell our full tide of existence.
Incapable from character arid habit, of exertions
of trifling ingenuity, and from the long and des
tructive wars that have desolated their country
indifferent to trade, manufacture or commerce,
they have neither great not petty business to at
tract them here. The wine, cork, fruit and
,! ; igat: trade occupy a few merchants of no great
note in the city ; a few obtain a precarious sub
sistence by teachin their language or the guitar;
they have no peculiarities to distinguish than
from other continental foreigners, except it may
be the high feeling, grave deportment. arid for
mal.politeness. characteristic of their nation.—
Whenever you meet a Spaniard in London
you may be sure, whether he oe pour or rich,
you come in contact with a gentlemen.
-The Hebrew nation next claims a share of
our attention, as representing the most numer
ous, important and wealthy body of distinct peo
ple in London. It may be considered strange
that we should include our notice of the Jews
under the head of foreigners in London, since
they are our fellowcountrymen and fellow-citi
zens, as Sir Moies Montefiore and Sir David
Salmons ; ( by the way, Sir Moses has an od
dity of soun dabout it, reminding ; us of the fa
ther of chemistry and brother of the Earl of
Cork) can abundantly testify.
Talk of pedigrees, forsonth ! tell us of the
Talbots, Pereira. Howards, and such like mush
rooms of yestorday ! show us a Jew, and we
will show ,you a man whose genealogical tree
springs from Abraham's bosom, whose family is
older than the decalngue. and who bears incon
trovertible evidence in every line of his oriental
countenance of the authenticity of his descent
through myriads of successive generations.—
You see in him a living argument of the truth
of Divine revelation—in him you behold the
literal fulfilment of the prophecies. With him
you ascend the stream of time, not voyaging by
the help of the dim, uncertain and fallacious
light of tradiion, but guided by an emanation of
the same light which to his nation was " a
cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night ;" in
him you see the representative of the once favor
ed people of God, to *horn, as to the chosen of
all mankind, He revealed himself their legislator.
protector and king ; who brought them out of
the. Land of Egypt, out of the house of bon
dage.
The Jewish quarter is bounded to the north
by High street. Spitalfields ; to the east by
Middlesex street, popularly known and called
Petticoat lane ; to the south by Leadenhall
street, Aldgate, and the hither end of White
chapel ; to the west by Bishopgate street,
where we are engaged to dine at the Albion
aforesaid. This is literally the New Jerusa
lem ; here we Christians are foreigner--stran
gers in a strange land ; here, over the doors,
are inscribed pothooks and vowel points, in
dicative to those who understand them that
Moses Abrahams furnisheth slops" for home
consumption and exportation ; this we natural
ly conclude to be the meaning from the articles
exhibited in the windows. for though the sign
be Hebrew to them, we need twill) , say that
it is Greek to us. Within the area bounded as
above deseribeil, but especially, about Bevis
marks, Hounsditch, St Mary-axe, and Petti
coat lane, you might readily imagine yourself
transported to Frankfort. Warsaw, or any place
enjoying a superabundant Jewish population ;
here every face is of the shape, and somewhat
of the complexion of a turkey-egg ; every brow
pencilled in an arch of exact ellipse; every
nose modelled after the proboscis of a toucan ;
locks as bushy and black as those of Absalom
abound, and beards of the patriarchal ages.—
Here, and hereabouts, Isaac kills beef and mut
ton. according to the old dispensation ; Jacob
receives accidental silver spoons. and consigns
gold watches• now warranted never more to
lose a second, to the crucible, kept always at
white heat in his little dark cellar, and no ques
tions asked. Here, at the corners, Rebecca
disposes of fried liver and 'tatoes. smoking
hot, on little bright. burnished copper platters,
to all the tribes of Israel not prohibited by law
to eat, that is to say, to all who possess the
solitary " browns " where with to purchase the
appetizing dainty. Solomon negotiates in the
matter of rags; Esther rejoices in a brisk little
business of flat fish fried in oil—a species of
dainty in which the Jews alone excel. Moses
and Aaron keep separate marine stores, every
earthly thing. furtively acquired. from a chain
cable to a Coreigan, finds a ready sale. Ra
chel, albeit a widow, dispenses from behind
the bar. "short" and " heavy" to the thirsty
tribes. Ruth deals wholesale in oranges and
other foreign fruits. Melchisedec dabbleth in
Hebrew books and tracts. Absalom sells
opium and Turkey rhubarb. Mordecai is a
" crimp." the vulture of sea-faring men. No
thing is to be seen above, below, around, but
Jewish physiognomies. Jewish houses, and
Jewish occupations. The avidity with which
this in one sense primitive people pursues gain
is not wonderful, when we reflect that gain is
all that the lately unrelenting persecution of
of the Christian has left them to pursue. With
money in the dark days of their history have
they purchased thepoor privilege to live; with
money have they secured for themselves in
one country connivance, in another toleration,
in a third citizenship ; with money have they
made war, and set by the ears hostile Naza
renes ; with money have they negotiated peace
—transferred from king to king. diadem. and
sceptres—playing at chuck-farthing with the
fates and fortunes of European and Asiatic na
tions. The same all-absorbing thirst of gold
that formed the leading principle in the life of
that pillar of the stock exchange the wall re
membered Rothschild. animates the merest
Israelitish urchin who follows , through his
bearded progenitor, esquire of the clothes bag;
to the pursuit of gain all their energies are di
rected with an intensity. unscropolosity. and
perseverance unknown to and onattempted by
any Christian people ; money they must and
will have, " rem puocunque rnodo rem."
To DESTROY SORREL ri GRASS LANDS..--
Sorrel abounds in the proportion of the free
humic acid in the soil. and it can be eradicated
by the use of calcarious manure. such u soap
makers' waste, carbonate of lime.
CATTAWISSA Btu mos.—The contract for rebuilding
the Causerie's& Bridge across the Susquehanna, has been
taken by Mears. Benjamin Frick; Chula, Haw= and
J. Baird, all of Cattawisas, for $12,000. .
Jenny and the Math.
In some of the country parts of Scotland.
a custom prevails of young men giving their
watches in trust to young women for whom
they have• declared their attachment. The
watch is kept and carried in the bosom of the
fair one, until the anxious couple are united in
the bonds of wedlock, when, as a matter 'of
course, the pledge of sincerity is delivered up
to its original owner. This is imagined by
the country lasses to be an infinitely better
plan for securing the fidelity of sweetheart.
than that of breaking a sixpence. A watch is
a valuable ands highly 'prized article. It is
worth at least a couple of pounds ; And the
loss of that sum by an individual in a humble
condition of life, is a very. serious matter.—
Still, we believe. there are cases in which the
proposed match is broken off, and the watch
abandoned forever ; though doubtless this is
only in cases of great fickleness, or when
weighty reasons for desertion intervene.
The - following laughable incident regarding
a watch so entrusted, occurred a few years ago.
Jenny Symington. a well favored sprightly
girl, in a certain farmhouse in Galloway. had
been entrusted with the watch of her sweet
heart. Tam Halliday, a neighboring shepherd.
and which she carried with scrupulous care in
her bosom ; but even the most carefully kept
articles will sometimes disappear in spite of all
the precautions considered necessary to pre
serve them. Jenny, be it known. was esteemed
a first-rate hand at preparing potatoes for the
family supper ; none could excel her in serving
them up, beaten and mashed in the most tempt
ing style. On one ;occasion, in harvest, when
the kitchen was crowded with a number of
shearers, waiting for their evening meal, and
while Jenny was busy beating a mess of pota
toes. what did the unlucky watch do. but drop
from her bosom, chain, seals. and all, Into the
pot among the potatoes ! Jenny's head being
turned away at the moment, she knew nothing
of the disaster, and therefore continued to beat
on at her task She certainly was a little sur
prised when she felt there was still a hard pa
iamb to beat, notwithstanding her previous dili
gence ; but thinking nothing ail. she continu
ed to beat, occasionally giving the hard potatoe,
alias the watch, a good thump with the end of
the beetle.At length she thought she had fairly
completed the business; and so infusing a large
jar of sweet milk into the mess, she stirred all
together, and placed the vessel ready for the
attack of the hungry on-lookers.
Behold, then, the pot—a round gawsy tri
pod—planted in the middle of the floor. A
circle was formed round it ;n a trice, and horn
for horn the shearers began to stretch and strive.
Many mouthfuls had not been taken, before I
certain queer looks began to be manifested.—
" Dell's in the tatties." says one ; " I think
they've got banes in them." " Banes !" says
another, "they're the funniest banes ever I saw ;
they're made o' broken glass and pieces o'
brass ; sup nae mair o' them." With that,
another produced a silver watch case, all batter
ed and useless, from his capacious horn spoon,
and a universal strike among the suppers im
mediately ensued. It was clear that a watch
had been beaten up with the potatoes ; so the
good wife had nothing for it but to order the
disgraced pot out of the way, and to place a
basket of oatmeal cakes and milk in its stead.
What were poor Jenny's feelings during this
staange denouenient T On the first appearance
of the fragnafita of the watch, she slipped her
hands to he ,bosom, and soon found how mat•
ters stood. She had the fortitude, however, to
show no symptoms of surprise ; and although
every one was wondering where the broken
watch had come from. she did not disclose her
knowledge of how it had found its way into the
pot. As it had belonged to no one in the
house, the materials were not identified; and
asJenny was a young woman of great prudence
and modesty. and had never shown any one
that she had a watch in her possession. no one
teased her about it. In a short time the noise
of the circumstance died away, but not till it
had gone over the neighborhood that the fami
ly had found a watch in the potatoe pot; and
among others. 'it came to the earls of the-own
er. Tam Halliday, who was highly pleased
with the conduct of his beloved Jenny : for he
thought that if she had cried or sobbed, and
told to whom the watch belonged, it would
have brought ridicule on them both. Tam
was, in short, delighted with the way the mat.
ter had been managed, and he thought the
watch was well lost, though it had been ten
times the value.
Whatever Tam's ideas were on the subject,
Jenny felt conscious that it was her ditty to re
place the watch. Accordingly, next time she
met her lover, she allowed no time to elapse
before she thus addresses him.:—" Now, Tam,
ye ken very well know how I have demolish
ed your good Over watch, but it is needless to
regret what cannot be helped. I shall pay you
for it. every farthing. The one half I will give
you when I get my half year's wages at Matil.
man, and the other half soon ; as my brother
is awn me three pounds. which he has promis
ed to pay me• afore the nett Eastern's e'en
fair.", •" My dear Jenny." said the young
man, taking her kindly by the hand. I beg
you will say nothing about that ridiculous af
fair. Ido not care a farthing for the loss of .
the watch ; mair by token. I have gotten a rise
in my wages free the new faird ; fur I maun
tell ye I'm now appointed chief herd in the
Ca's Hope. However, to take any payment
from you. to rob you of your had won penny
fee. would be disgraceful. No, no, I will take
none of your wages; but there is one thing I
will take. if you are willing, and which. I hope.
will make us both happy for life." u And
what may that be. Tam. now that ye're turned
a grand head shepherd ?" I will take."
said he, yourself: but mind Ido not ask you
as a recompense for a paltry watch : no. in my
eyes your worth is beyond all estimation. If
you will agree to be mine, let it be done freely ;
but whether you are willing to marrc me or
not, from this time henceforth the watch is ne
ver more to be spoken of."
What followed may be easily . imagined.=
Tam and Jenny were married as soon as the
II
I
ET7EIB3/121 300
p entehing for the cottage at the Ca's Hope
c .uld be prepared ; and at the wedding, the
atory of the watch and the pntatoe put was
made the topic of much hearty mirth among the
assembled company. The last time we visited
Jenny's cottage. we reminded her of the tran
saction. Houts." said she. that's an auld
story now ; the laird has been sae well pleased
wi' the gaudeman. that he has glen him a pre:
sent o' that eight day clock there ; it cost eight
pounds in Janie Lockie's, at the east port n'
Dumfries, and there'v no the like in all the
parish."
Shaking Bands.
[We have from inky Putnam, the twen
tieth number of their Library of Choice Read
ing—the second part of Leigh Hunt's Indica
tor and Companion, an agreeable melange of
matters, treated in the agreeable style for which
Leigh Hunt is famous. There are many• of
the chapters we should like to extract for the
amusement of our readers, but apace is want
ing. Here is a sample :]
Among the first things which we remember.
noticing in the manners of people. were two
errors in the custom of shaking hands. Some.
we observed, grasped every body's hand alike
—with an equal fervor of grip. You would
have thought Jenkins was the best friend they
had in the world ; but on succeeding to.the
equeeie. though a slight acquaintance, you
found it equally flattering to yourself; and on
the appearance of somebody else, (whose name
it turned out the operator had forgotten.) the
crush was no less complimentary ; the face
was as earnest and beaming, the " glad to see
you " as syllabical and sincere, and the shake
as close, as long, and as rejoicing, as if the
semi-unknown was a friend come home from
the Deserts.
On the other hand, there would be a gentle
man now and then, as coy of his hand as if he
were a prude, or a whitlow. It was in vain
that your pretensions did not go beyond the
" civil salute" of the ordinary shake, or that
being introduced to him in a friendly manner,
and expected to shake hands with the rest, of
the company, you could not in decency omit
his. His fingers half coming out and half re
treating, seemed to think you were doing them
a mischief ; and when you get hold of them,
the whole of the shake was on your side ; the
other hand did but proudly or pensively ac 7
quiesce—there "as no knowing which.; you
had to sustain it as you might a lady's in hand
ing her to a seat ; and it was an equal perplexi
ty whether to shake it or let it go. The one
seemed a violence done to the patient, the
other an awkward responsibility brought upon
yourself. You did not know all the evening.
whether you were an object of dislike to the
person ; till on the party's breaking up, you
saw him behave like an equally ill-used gen
tleman, to all who practiced the same unthink
ing civility.
Both of these errors. we think, might as well
be avoided ; but of the two, we must say we
prefer the former. If it does not look so much
like particular sincerity. it looks mere like
general kindness; and if two virtues are to be
separated, (which they assuredly need not be,
if considered without spleen,) the world can
better afford to dispense with ea, unpleasant
truth, than a gratuitous humanity. Besides,
it is more difficult to make sure of the one,
than to practice the other, and kindness itself
is the best of all truths. ' As long as we are
sure of that, we are sure of something, and of
something pleasant. It is always the best end.
if not in every instance the most logical
means.
This manual shyness is sometimes attribu
ted to modesty, but never, we suspect, with
justness, , unless it be that sort of modesty.
whose fear of committing itself is grounded in
pride. Want of address is a better reason ;
but this particular instance of it would be
grounded in the same feeling. It always im
plies a habit of either pride or mistrust. We
have met with two really kind men who evinc
ed this soreness of hand. Neither of them,
perhaps, thought himself inferior to any body
about him, and both had good reason to think
highly of themselves, but both bad been san
guine men contradicted in their early hopes.—
There was a plot to meet the baud of one of
them' with a fishslice, in order to show him
the disadvantage to which he put his friends
by that flat salutation; but the conspirator had
not the courage to do it. Whether he heard
of the intention we know not, but shortly after
wards_ he took very kindly to a shake. The
other* was the only man of a warm set of poli
ticians., who remained true to his first hopes of
mankind. He was, impatient at the change in
his companions, and at the folly
_and inatten
tion of the rest; but though his manner be
came cold, his constancy remained warm, and
this gave him a right to be as strange as he
pleased.
•The late Mr. Hal
SMALL FARMS vs. LARGE.—SmaII farms are
certainly more easily improved than large ones.
and while the fertility of the soil is thereby in
creased, the remuneration. the nett gain, is the
inverse ratio to its size. when compared with
large ones of equal fertility. I am clearly of
the opinion if a man have five hundred acres
in one body, that his best policy is to do with
it as Solomon adjudged, when the child was
claimed by two mothers—to rut it in halves—
and if he cannot sell a moiety, or cultivate it
advantageously. he had better give it away.—
A. vast proportion of the debts for which agri
culturists are hound, arise from the purchase of
more land. It is somewhat of a mania, I ad
mit, among the good people of Maryland. which
can only he abated by the stern lnfnrcement
of contracts, and by the conviction that large
possessions of land in the hands of the same
persons never benefit the country, and seldom
the indiviilual. Had I my time to live over
again. I would not add one additional acre to
my patrimonial estate.
Associate yourself with men of good quality
if yon esteem your own reputation, for it is bet
ter to be alone than in bad company.
ill