Meuoteb to Napo, Literature,poetril, Srience, Alerl)anirs, 2griculture, the Miffusion of Useful
VOLUME V 1
tRE LEHIGH REGISTER,
is published in the Borough of Allentown, Lehigh
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lUP Office in Hamilton St., one door East
of the German Reformed Church, nearly
'opposite the “Priedensbote Office."
nctical
Department.
[From the Pictorial Drawing Room Companion.]
Love Stanzas
'0 halt thou forgotten the time we exchanged
The vows of ntrection and love I
'The stars of the night in their places were ranged,
And shed their pure light from ahmle.
The zephyrs of summer fanned gently thy brow,
And played 'mong thy ringlets ofjet ;
Then wafted to heaven the half-uttered vow,
That passed our lips as they met.
Thou halt not forgot:en, and yet thou art cold,
The breathings of love are all o'er
And false to the tale of affection once told,
Thou hast learned to regard me no more.
'Tis sad, 0 'tis sad when a being we love
And cherish, sinks into the grave;
'But 0 how much more so when falsely they prove
Who vows of affection once gave.
But I'll not reproach thee. Farewell'. it is true,
I'll but seldom allude to thy name;
I'll mix with the cheerful, and smile when they do
And falsely they'll deem me the same.
But 0, in the gloom of silent midnight,
Thy memory a treasure too dear;
For hours C spend with the hearts that are light,
Shall wring from my spirit a tear.
No more may I hear the sweet voice of hope,
The ray of her star never know ;
No prospect of aught save despair may spring up,
And dark be the season of woe.
And yet I will love thee, ay, ever the same,
And pray for thee, even as now
And yield to the magic that lives in thy name,
And dwell in the smile on thybrow.
,tselectiono.
Turkish Wedding.
The father, the sister, and some friends
of both sexes of the bridegroom's family
Were gone the day before to town, to fetch
the young girl (twelve years old,) and to es
cort her to her new abode. Strolling lei
surely about my garden itA . the morning of
the eventful day, I discovered the bride
groom dressed in his . every-dev garments,
and looking very doleful.'" ITtirtrught• sortie
misfortune 'had occurred to break off the
match, and,. calling Hassan; I asked . .trim
what.ailed him. "Nothirrg,".answered the
lad, opening widely his large mouth with
an intended smile, and winking at mo With
a knowing look; ' , nothing—but-I.am going
to get married, and you know"—Again
the winking and the smile, but I understood
nothing. Happily, the mother joined . us,
and, understanding my question, she inform
ed me it was the custom in such like cir
cumstances" for the bridegroom to keep him
self afar from the whole SI omptiny and , if
met by chance by sMme one, to look as seri
ous as sulky, and as shabby as possible.—
One laugh7frorri'lriirtwould be reckoned the
greatest imp'r'opriety in iho world—quite
..shocking !—and, what is Still 'worse, tier=
haps, would lead to the most distreSsirig,
consequences, as falling. under the power
of the Evil. Eye, being charmed; or - such
things. During the explanation, I saw the
boy made great exertion not to burst tiut in•
a hearty laugh, and fearing to call upon his
head all sorts of mischances I hastily retrea
ted, promising to come back as soon as the
bride made her appearance.
Late in the afternoon some volleys of MU3-
ketry announced the expected arrival. I
stationed myself upon the narrow foot-path
that passing before my house, leads to - my
neighbour's, and, before long, saw the ap
proaching. procession. They were all
mounted on horseback, First, the bride
groom's father appeared in his most splen
did
attire,, followed by two ragged boys mn
foot, who figured as pages. Then the male
friends ; then - tho sister of tho bridegroom
a yang Woman recently married,Well-look
int and rather: intelligent ; 'then-something
which I could not name at first sight,: but
which I subsequently guessed—by its situ
ation in the cortege,• andfor the. pharerful
reason that it couldn't'. bCanything else—
to be the bride herself. What was visible
of her was n counterpane, carefully wrap-
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[-lours succeeded to hours ; the day pas
sed and evening came, and with the even
ing the priest, or.lmaum, and the ceremony
began. The priest was seated upon a ear
pet spread upbn the ground, outside the
door of the house, between two of his ace-,
lytes. When the moment was abate, and
all was ready, the priest changed the sitting
pOgiure for the kneeling, invoked the bless
inxof. Allah, and replaced himself in his
firsts. attituder The bridegroom then ap
peared, handing a young boy of some ten
years old; who carried.a sort of black paste
Upon a plate, and handed it to the priest,
who put the plate upen. the carpet at his
side, took a bit of the paste, which I learned
afterwards to be licutze, and rolled it in his
fingers till he made a ball of it, murmuring
el the while some sort of incantation. Pe
then took the hand of the bridegroom, who,
with his extraordinary mate, knelt before.
him, and shut it, as if he wished to show
him how to box ; but his intentions were of
a ,niuch More pecifiC, nitture. Keeping the
hail of paste on the top of his fore-finger, he
introdUci?d it • into the •lidrid?..Of the., young
man, and leaving in it-'the greater part of
the poke, he took out a little quantity, spread
it upon the orifice of the hole formed by the
bended fingers ; and inclining the thumb
upon it, he sealed the whole hand, and seem
ed satisfied with the result.- But fearing, I
suppose that some unlooked-for circumstance
should destroy this capital work, he rolled a
handkerchief many times round the closed
hand of the bridegroom, and did not leave
till he had ascertained that to unloose it
would not be the affair of an instant. The
same operation was accomplished upon the
head of the • little boy ;. after which; they
both rose up and were married, or at least
one of them was married, not to the other,
but to a poor girl, who had taken no part
whatever in the ceremony. What was she
doing during this time ? Nothing but what
she had done from the beginning of, that
memorable day—crying, and I really Telt a
great deal of compassion for the poor crea
ture. Other people, however, Avert better •
occupied in the inferior of the balamut. 'A '
young girl of twelve and a boy about the
same age were preparing the couch for the I
new couple—kneeling, courtesying and I
ping up a sort of huge ball, as we are used
to see a great many piled up upon the deck
of it merchant ship. The music and dan
cers—of the - oext - Yilla,ge ; — then some men
armed-with-old-muskets and - carabines, rep
resenting the National Guard ; children,
running, laughing and shoutm,(7, quite
sized people. •
I, too followed the cavalcade, and arrived
at the bridal house just in time to see the
young woman's reception. As she stopped
her horse (f rather suppose the horse stop
ped himself, but never mind,) a little boy
of two years old was handed to her. She
took hold of him, seated •him before her
u mmike_Eaddle,and_tak ing_ou t-from—t he
recoses of the counterpane an apple, gave it
to the urchin, who, having completed his
part, was carried away. It was now the
turn of the counterpaned lady to dismount,
and I thought the feat rather, a remarkable
one ; but she managed it pretty well, and
reached the ground without having greakty
disturbed the symmetry of the counterpane's
folds. Her future, mother-in-law, with
some more female friends and connections,
were standing at the door ready to welcome
her, and, as soon as she advanced,a young
boy displayed a carpet she knelt at her
mother-in-law's feetland remained one mo
ment in a prostrate attitude, as if kissing
the threshold of her new hoMe, and acknow
ledging her filial duty toward her new moth
er. I had come with no feelings •of .com
punction, and rather to assist at a ludicrous
scene than at a solemn one. And yet the
sight of that young 'girl, of a child entering
a new life and prostrating herself upon the
threshold of it, imploring pity and affection
moved me, and I hastened into the house
were J arrived just in time to see the moth
er-in-law raisincr her daughter in her arms,
and kissing her with tenderness. Then the
young bride was confided to the matron's
hands tilt outside door was shut upon her
and she was taken into the inner apartments.
There a new prostration ensued and n new
embrace, but my heart was hardened against
melting impulses, and I looked at the sec
ond representetion, wondering why the first
had made such an impression upon
I expected to see the young girl disencum
bered from her ample folds, but. I was mis
taken. Notwithstanding the burning tem
perature of the day, she stood wrapped in
her manifold. veils—her head, face, neck
and shoulders quite covered—sinking un
der the weight of her dresses, scarfs, ruffles
and jewels, in a corner of the room, sobbing
and crying with all her might. The la
dies dined the ladies sung and danced, the
ladies chatted and were very noisy. Not
so the poor girl who was silent and did
nothing but cry. She was the topic of the
conversation; her age, her family, her for
tune, all that concerned her—to the very
kisses she had received that very day from
her brothers as stimulus to her courage
and fortitude—all was related, discussed,
and repeated many times; but she seemed
scarcely aware of what they said, and took
no part whatever in the entertainment.
ALLENTOWN, LEHIGH COUNTY, PA., APRIL 1, 1852.
singing at every new piece of furniture.—
Disposing the mattresses, they made one
genuflection:; placing_the_pillows,_they_pros--
trated themselves upon the floor ; arranging
the eheets arid blankets, they crossed their
I'arms upon their breast, bowed their heads
_ancLsang_all_the-while.---The-sight-oEtheir
' movements was rather pleasing.
At that period I retired, and nobody but
the nearest relatives of the bridegroom re
mained. But next morning I went, as the
etiquette required, to pay my compliments
to the new couple and found the face of the
young bride radiant with smiles. I com
plimented the bridegroom upon the eflica
c-y_of_his-consoling—enderivourstidding-that-
I had never seen so many tears dried up in
such a short time. "The girl was rather
lows.yesterday, in 'leaving her old home,"
answered the sister-in-law ; "but as for tears
it don't signify ; she ought to cry, and she
did her part well." And I vowed never, in
the future, to give way to compassion for
Any crying young-grit without previously
ascertaining it was not for etiquette and de
corum's sake thar;slie let loose the cataracts
of her eyes
ECM
- -
Louis Napoleon.
Prince Charles Louis Napoleon, the third
son of Louis Bonaparte, King of_Holland,
and of Queen Hortense, was born of Paris,
the 20th'of April, 1808. He was the first
Prince born under the imperial regime, and
.his birth was announced by salutes of artil
lery throughout the vast extent of the Em
pire, from Hamburg to Rome, from the Py
renees to the Danube. France was then at
the bight of its grandeur and prosperity.--
The genius of the Emperor Napoleon re
organized Europe, and under the delusive
hope that his power %would be inherited, he
greeted with joy, LO event which promised
to bear down his name to posterity. He
had not, as yet, thought of a divorce from
the Empress Josephine. The Prince Lou
isa was inscribed in the Family Register of
the i:nperial dynasty, with all the pomp of
consecration. He was baptiZed the 4th of
November, 1810, at the Palace of Fontain
bleau, by Cardinal Fesch, being held at the
fount by the Emperor and Empress 'Marie
Louise. His mother gave to his education
a grave and severe turn, and most happily
for him, whose life has proved so full of
strange vicissitudes, whose destiny has ex
hibited reverses of fortune, that seem rather
belonging to romance than sober history.—
The nephew was a special favorite with his
uncle, who watched his infancy, with the
greatest interest. Although absorbed by the
affairs of the Empire, Napoleon gave much
attention to the mental and phisical progress
of the young Prince, and this solicitude was
not diminished by the birth of the King of
Rome. He loaded him with caresses, and
in the transports of tenderness, presented
him to the people from his window in the
Tuilleries, as if to make him the adopted
child of the nation.
But a sudden change destroyed all these
illusions. The empire fell ; the Emperor
became an exile, and his family dispersed'
itself in the foreign lands. At the age of
seven, Louis Napoleon quitted France with
his mother, for a modest retreat in Switzer
land, at the village of Aranbu rg, on the shores
of Lake Constance, where, under the gui
dance of maternal instruction, his character
developed itself under the most favorite cir
cumstances. His bot, was fortified by
gymnastic exercises, and his mind flourish.
ed with solid instruction. Having obtained
the right of Swiss citizenship, he was.admit.
' ted to the Camp at Thun, where he essayed
to become a soldier, by taking part in the
exercises, and going through all the Maneu
vers. The art of artillery, however, was
most congenial to his instincts, and to this
essential part of war,, he applied himself with
the most assiduous study.
While nt 'l'hun, he received the news of
the Revolution of July, 1830. This awak
ened in his mind dreams of glory. r He
changed the quiet exile, to become a conspi
rator, and with his brother headed the Ital.
lan insurgents, in Romagna, who thought
chat the hour for deliverance frona.the yoke
•of Austria had arrived. Behold him now
leading an undisciplined band of indepen
dents, crying Vive la Lihertie against Rome.
Dispersed by the first encounter with the
Austrians, he escaped death only to witness
the last agonies of his brother, who was sud
denly attacked with a mortal inaledy, and
expired in his arms. Exhausted with suf
ferings and fatigues, dejected by grief, track
ed by the Roman police, menaced with dan
gers on all sides, he was saved by his' cour
ageous mother. Queen Hortense, spread
ing the report that he
. had fled to Greece, by
the aid of a disguise -and an English pass
port. She traversed with him a great part
of Italy. Not without great risk and daring
to brave the proscription that interdicted
France to them, she ventured to enter Par
is, and announced to Louis Phillippe her
arrival with the Prince. He was in the
midst of an access of fever, and covered - with
leeches, when the imperious summons came
for both to quit Paris and France instantly. •
The two proscribed took the road to Lon
don. His stay in England was improved
for his instruction by an attentive study of
the institutions and government of that coun-
4. Returning to Switzerland in 1831,
he refused to enter into the Revolutionary
projects - proposed -to-him-by-agents-from-
Poland and Italy., The death of the sou of
Napoleon in 1832, made him the Emperor's
heir, and he was subjected to solicitations
- from - insurgentsorrorre - si - de, tind to esim-in
;go of the French Government on the other,
but occupying himself with study, he pub
lished, in 1833, a pamphlet entitled, "Con
,,. tolerations Political and Military on Switz-
!Aland." In 1834 he was named captain
of Artillery, at Berne, thus commencing, like
his uncle, in the artillery, with the title of
Captain, and in a Republic.
The next grarrd - acrol - his checkered - IW
was his enterprise against Strasburg—a
most rash and unfortunate affitir. He hop
ed by a-sudden move - to - excite - an insurrec
tion in connection with a few officers, who
had reaped glory under his uncle's banner,
and through the sympathy of the French
nation for his name and the souvenirs it in
spired, to be proclaimed Emperor. Al
though fortified with two most magniloquent
proclamations, one to the people and the
other to the soldiers, and urged on by an
enthusiasm almost superhuman. he failed
most signally in this more than Quixotic at
tempt. His mother again became his pro
tector, and obtained- from Louis-Philippe
pardon, on condition that he should reside
in America. He sailed for Philadelphia in
the Andromedia. Some months after; ,the
Prince received at New York the sad news
of his mother's sickness. Returning to
Switzerland, he saw her expire the sth of
Oct., 1837. The French Government de.
mended that he should leave Switzerland.
The Swiss offered to protect him, but he de
parted voluntarily for London, where he
published a pamphlet called "Idea Napole
on," in which he re-produced all the gran d
imperial thoughts that so tormented his
brain. .
Still convinced that France was unhap•
py without him, he conspired once more to
place hirnselfat its head by violence. The
expedition against Boulogne was conceived ;
a more foolhardy attempt than the one
against Strasburg. With a few devoted
friends, he landed from a bark at the point
of day, marched against the garrison, failed
completely, was taken prisoner, transported
to Paris. and condemned to perpetual im
prisonment , in the dungeons at Ham.--
What a reverse ! Yet he did not complain.
It was his destiny, to which he was obedi
ent.
To probe France with the sword of Na
poleon, with the hope of finding within all
those wishes and longings for a return of
Bonapartism and the regime of the Empire,
was his ruling passion. Writing to a friend
from Ham, he says, "In the meantime, I
do not desire to leave this place, for here I
am in my place: with the name that I beat
it is necessary that I should be in the shade
of theiclungeon, or in the light of power."
Thi /light from the depth of his dungeon
giv s an insight into his whole character.—
At irresistable' impulse always possessed
hi mind, that his name was destined to rule 1
Prance, and that his presence only was ne
cessary as a spark to determine• the explo
sion of the latent Bonapartism
A piece of good fortune enabled 'him to
escape the "shade," after languishing in it
for six months. Profiting by a mordent
when a great number of workmen happen
ed to be employed about the prison, he found
means of disgUising himself in the dress of
an workman and, putting a plank on his back
he passed the guard without being recog
nised. Once more he landed in England.
The sudden revolution of 1818 rendered
his return to his native land safe. By a
caprice of fickel Fortune, he was chosen
President of the new Republic. The "light
of power" shone upon and around him,
opening to his ardent gaze a long prospec
tive glory. Three years possession of pow
er sufficed to convince him that national
sovereignty, under the restrictions imposed '
by legislative representation, and resting on
a basis forbidding all hope Legitimacy, teas
not capable of administering to the carvings
of his soul. He cut the Gordiah knot 'by j
substituting the sovereignty of right, and j
that in less than two months after he In his 1
Message renewed in the most formal man
ner his oath to the constitution, and con
demned the very idea of Usurpation. The
coup d eta! of the second of December has
exhibited a new phase in this strange Char
acter, when "manifest destiny" seems now
about to be accomplished.
The Alpha and Omega of all his aspira.
tions appear as if on the point of realization.
The future alone can fully reveal the man,
and resolve the problem whether France is
capable of resigning herself quietly to the,
delusions of absolute power, or whether she
is destined to be subjected to a repitition of
those scenes of violence and disorder, that
have so often convulsed her to the very cen
tre, and rendered her almost a bye-wOrd
among the nations of the earth. At her
head is a man of inflexible will, impassable
to the most delicate densations of the soul,
incapable of any more poetical transports or
sentimentalism. He comprehends neither I
art, neither poetry; he has a pasSion neither I
for rythm, neither for . harmony ; he is nei
ther impressed•by nature, nor the noble ere-
NEUTRAL IN POLITICS,
atures of genius. His heart is the vassal of
his head. He calculates all things, even his
-en th usiastnT—H pressions
intelligence, are all measured as with a com
pass, and weighed with a balance. The
maxim of iVinchivel, that observer of the hu
i-matr Heart , uuLFis better to - do evil - Map to do
nothing," is one that he often repeated, and
seems to have produced a deep impression /
on him. His heart, severely tried by ad
versity, is iron, about to undergo the fiery
ordeal of , prosperity, and the world can
judge for itself,, and approve or condemn the
sentiment by which he is inspired.
Ea st - Floritla - an - d - Consumption ---
There are but few residents of the north
ern States who are aware how much this
complaint may be alleviated, if not cured,
by a residence in Florida. Some twenty
years since, I spent a winter in St. A ugus
tine, and experienced all the advantages
that beautiful climate presents over the
North. During the winter, ice was form
ed not more than once, and that less than
the thickness of a half dollar. While the
thermometer in New York was ten above
zero, I was enjoying an almost summer
heat. Indeed, except the inconvenience of
rain, there was no day_ durincr—the -winter
when an outside-coat would have been de
sirable on horseback, even for an invalid.—
The oranges remain in great perfection on
the trees the whole winter, and continued
to improve their delicious flavour till spring.
The expenses of living are very small--
a family of half a dozen persons could firs
in St. Augustine on $l,OOO per annum,
who would in New York, expend $3,000.
The oysters were remarkably fine, and so
abundant as to be had for the mere cost of a
laboror to bring them from the...bedsit) sight
of my lodging. The fish, also, were deli
cious and abundant. House rent, for about
$5O to $75 a year, with ample accommoda
tion for keeping poultry, horse, cow, etc.,
at a very small expense ; and as to clothing
a supply for summer and winter should be
provided, and a residence there availed of
to wear out all the oid stock, as nothing like
unnecessary extravagance is encourag ed by
the people, who are uniformly kin and
considerate to the sick. Over one hundred
and sixty invalids from New York State
were among the number who availed them
selves of the Florida climate in one winter,
and generally were benefited, in some ca
ses cured. and in others their lives for years
prolonged.
Some cases came under my observation,
of invalids, suffering under a severe cough,
who had extended their lives by a constant
residence, probably for ten years, being able
to exercise daily in the open air, while at
the North the same case would have requir
ed constant confinement, in-doors, and there
by shorten the days of the patient. A fam
ily going to Florida, and wishing to study
the best economy, should bargain with a
sailing vessel to land them on the St. John
River if not at St. Augustine—taking, care
to provide themselves with six months' sup
ply of hams, corned beef, vinegar, flour, etc.
The poultry yard, horse and cow, can be
supplied there ; also, the vegetable garden.
The commander of the United States garri
son had a fine garden, and every day in the
year could have green peas upon his table,
with all ether fresh vegetables ; at the same
time, one-half the inhabitants occasionally
imported their supply from Charleston, rath
er than be troubled with their cultivation at
their own doors.
Often have I seen, in January and Feb
ruary a file of soldiers in one corner of the
garden, gathering new potatoes, green peas,
lettuce, etc., and in the opposite corner an
other party planting the same kinds. The
city is about one-eighth of a mile wide,
bounded by the ocean, and a. mile long, con
taining three churches, viz : Catholic, Epis
copalian, and Presbyterian—all very re
spectable congregations. There was only
one small dry-goods shop, and some three
or four family grocers, which coned u:o
about all the trade in the place. About
twice a month, a sailing packet arrived from
Charleston, which gave more joy and inter
est to the poor invalids than ever the arrival
of the Collins steamers gave to the New
Yorkers. A land mail came twice a week
and the invalids generally assembled around
the Post-Office for an hour or two before its
arrival, to get letters from their families and
friends.
Whoever goes there for health, and there
is no other inducement, should carry all
needed resources with him, such as books,
with an ample supply of newspapers to
come by every Mail. I was *planted there
suddenly and taken from the most active
business. For the first month, this new
life of inactivity of mind and body destroy
ed both appetite and sleep—afterwards I
became reconciled, and enjoyed it exceed'.
ingly, after edUcating myself to a life of idel
ness. Since that period steamboats may
run from Savannah and Charleston--if
_so,
,
tnen the intercourse has no doubt become
much more convenient.
It was there a general remark, that inva
lids whosurvived the month of March would
probably. live through the year. Such is
the kind influence of the climate upon the
nerves of invalids, that were I now troubled
..........
with this complaint, and it was ,reduced to
a certainty that my life would end in_ three
months i-shouldhasten inuTtha - tclimate to
die—as there my life would probably end
without pain—while at the North the hard
winds would make every cough,tear me es ,
sunder. Leaving home under such circum
stances has its evils, but climate, accompan
ied by a friend, will more than counterbal
ance in many cases.
Invalids, who comfortably survive the
cold till January or February, may often
find March unendurable—an escape from
which will often prolong their lives. This
has induced me to write this articler as L
will remember, when ordered myself to seek
a more genial climate by my medical friends,
I found it impossible to obtain any reliable
practical knowledge where to go. Florida
is probably better than even Italy, much
more convenient, and less expensive—but
of course the former is comparatively entire•
ly destitute of interest. During the past
twenty years, new hotels have been opened
in Florida, as I am informed particularly
up the River St. John. Invalids will do
well to inquire into this before determining
where to reside. A lmost any family in St.
Augustine, for $5O to $lOO, for six or eight
months, would have vacated their house, at
a short notice, if it could be rented, as cash
was a very rare article. -
Invalids go to Florida even from Saran.
nal' and Charleston, to avoid the month of
March ; and Northern invalids, leaving
Florida in March, in tolerable health, were
generally confined to the house, and often
made sik, by the change, on their arrival
in Charleston rind Savannah—the change
of climate being so violent. The medical
men in Florida all agreed that Northern in•
valids should never leave before April, and
theta was more safe to remain till even
Juno; then they come into a warmer cli•
mate at the North, and have the summer to
determine the result. But who can des•
cribe the impatience of an invalid to return
home after being imprisoned in Florida six
months! Invalids should avoid going, un•
less accompanied by some friend, as a gen ,
eral rule. The change, even with friends
in feeling, is severe enough.
The Battle Field of New Orleans.
The surface of the country in the vicini
.y of Jackson's lines, on the Bth of Janua
ry, 1815, has Undergo
scene of any battle-field
in the United States. It is true,
there is
great monotony in the features of the whole
narrow strip of land on the left bank of the
Mississippi, below the city, The fields are
all laid off in the same direction—the ditch-
es run the same way—the lands are culti-.
vated to the same distance towards the
swamp—the houses are built and the gar
dens ornamented in the same style. But
little change has passed over this country
since 1815. It produced as much then as,
it does now ; sugar wa - s the chief produdt
then, as it is now. The bulwark throtvn
up by the British, on the 28th of JanuarYo
1814, was made chiefly with sugar barrels,
full of sugar ; which were taken from the
sugar-house of Mr. Chalmette and others,
planters. The place where the battle was
fought can easily be designated. The old
chateau, in which Jackson had his quarters
still remains. The ditch, a paltry affair,
which any good jumper could leap over in
1815, may be clearly traced. The spot
where Packenham fell, can be pointed otth
Near it is a pecan tree, under which, it is
said he breathed his last—whose fruit, it is
an old Creole superstition, has been red ev
er since. There, too, are the gnarled old
live oaks in the centre of the field, still scar
red and marked with the prints of cannon
balls and shells. And there; too, in the
neighborhood, you may find many an old
negro, who can amuse you by the hour,
with his reminiscences of the battle, and at
the close of his story drive'a profitable trade
with you, in sundry rusty musket-balls.=-•
perad venture in some of Lafitte's, alias.
Dominique - iou's chain-shot, which rained
such destruction into tire . British ranks.
•
DECIDEDLY Ricir.—"Pat can you tell me
what is a virgin 1"
"To be sure I can Jimmy." •
"Well, then, will ye be after doing it I"
"Yes, jilt, it's a woman that has never
been married at all."
"Be ye in earnest, Pat I"
"Yes, Jimmy."
"The saints in heaven be praised, then,
my mother is a virgin ; my father never mar. 7
Aied her at. all, sure." •
PUTTING IN MlND.—This common phrase
was used, by a Hibernian, a day or two
since, in rather a ludicious connection. Pat
was driving pigs in Grand street, . when
Barney met him, and after the'usual
change of "Ho% d'ye do P' and "sure it'a
myself that's glad to seo you," Barney point
ed to one of the quadrupeds, with—"it'a a
fine pig, that sow ; Patrick." "It is that
same, Barney ; 'th at puts me in mind' of
asking for your wife, the crathur, is she do.
ing well?'.'
reAttempt not to fly like an eagle with
he wings of a wren, '
NUMBER 26.