The Lehigh register. (Allentown, Pa.) 1846-1912, September 27, 1854, Image 1

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.wSPA P E R, __. AND MECHANIC
OttiOttb tO Nel)39, titanium Poetrn, L lectlnniri, 'Ac . iticulture, the Diffusion of Useful 3nfornintion, o.3cneral 3ntelligence, 'Amusement, illatueto,
VOLUME VIII.
THE LEHIGH REGISTER
ls published in the Borough of Allentown, Lehigh
County, Pa.,' every Viedneaday, by
A. L. RIME,
A $l5O per annum, payable in advance, and
$2 00 if not paid until the end of the year. No
paper discobtinued, until all arrearages are paid
except at the option of the proprietor.
1126'0ffice in Hamilton Street, one door East of
he German Reformed Church, neatly opposite
he ..Friedensbote" Office.
.-- -
o dual Elcpattinent.
(Prom Glcoson's Pictorial.)
A Home Picture.
BEN FießElt had finished his harvesting,
And hr stood by the orchard gate,
One foot on the rail, and one on the ground,
As he called on his good wife—Kate.
There were stains of toll on his wamus red,
The dust or the field on his hat:
But a twinkle of pleasure was in his rye,
As he looked on the stock so lat.
lere, give me the baby, dear Kate, you are tired,
• I tear you have too much care ; •
You must rest and pick up a little, I think,
Belure we go to the Fair.
I'd hate to be taking tat oxen, you know,
Fat hvg,s, and rat sheep, and fat cows,
VVith a wile at my elbow, as poor-as-a crow,
And care WfillitieS shading her brow.
'Can't go,' did you say 1 '('an't afford the expense:
I know, Kate Our crops aint the best;
But we've labored together to keep things along,
And together we'll now lake a rest.
The orchard is bare, but old Brindle is prime,
And Ltly and Fan are a show;
Your butter anti cheese can't be beat in the State,
So up to the Fair we wtll go.
'You've ne'er seen a city, and Cleveland is fine,
Ne'er seen the blue billowy Lake;
Ne'er rode in a rail -cat, or liten in a throng,
Kate, this journey we'll take.
And, gathering new lerlings, new thoughts, and
new ways,
If find those that suit, as we roam,
And garner up strength with i,ur head, hearts
and hands,
Fur the luve and the duties of home.
have sometime thought, Kate, as 1 pluddLd.
EMMI
For months, o'er the same weary round,
That a fellow who . had such a really bald time,
In Ohio could nowhere be found ;
But when I've been called from my home for a
ahile,
And seen how the rest get along,
I've come back to my toil with a light, cheerful
heart,
And there's no place like home,' was my song
'I wonder that mothers don't wholly despair,
Who ne'er from their cares get away.
But walk the same tread wheel of duly for years,
Scarce slopping to rest, night or day.
I don't wonder they grow discontented, some
times,
That their feelings grow raspy and cold;
For toil never ending, and labor uncheered,
Make woman—and NER—sometimesscold.'
Kate looked up with a smile, and said, 'Ben, we
will go,
There may be better oxen than ours,
Horses swifter on foot, and cows finer by far.
Better butter and cheese, fruit and flowers.
But there's one thing I claim,l know cant be seat
In the whole Yankee nation to.day ;
not swap him, 1 for a kingdom to &Ku—
That's my 'gude man'—and Kate ran away.
Petei's Wedding
SAID Meg, when Peter courting came,
La, man, you're much too soon ;
Your love burns with too quick a flame !"
She shook her head: she hummed a tune—
A careless stance she flung.
01 cannot wed, dear sir, so soon,
So young!
I cannot wed so soon."
He pressed his suit: Sweet Margaret sighed,
°Peter, I will be thine ;
For Since you will not be denied,
I will not more decline.
Rece •e my troth, receive my hand—
*. W 'd Irwin on vows like thine—
So bland!
rear Peter, I am thine."
ThL carriage stays before the church
Poor Meg has torn her dress,
Ere yet a bride left in the lurch,
Dy Peter's carelessness: .
And when, as turning sharply round',
What there the lady kept—
He found!
"How stupid, Meg !" he cried.
Her face grew red, but naught she said
Until the Parson spake :
"Do you this man, my lovely maid,
To be your husband take 1"
Then Meg gave Peter tit for tat—
urm not so stupid, sir,
As that!
I'm not so stupid sir."
A FAMILY NE
Mark well the moral of my song:'
Lovers, don't scold too soon,
Nor let your tempers out too strong
Before you've spent the honey-moon
Your lover, sir's a slave:
Your husband sings another tune,
The knave!
For marriage frees the slave !
Selcctioto.
How Harry Fell in Love.
All the girls in Fluwerdale were in love
with Harry Vernon. That is to say they
admired him excessively and were ready to
tall in love if hp should lead the way.—
Fanny Somers, the littht witch, was the on•
ly exception. Merry, dancing and pretty
- as a fairy, it was a question whether she had
ever yet thought ol love ; if she had, she
never talked of it.
Harry's father was a Senator in Congress
and he himself was a young lawyer of bril
liant talents, finished education and hand
some fortune. It was not known that his
father wished him to marry, and did not, as
is often the case insist on his selecting an
heiress. The now gray-haired old states
man had made a love-match in his youth,
and still worshipped the memory of the wife
he had to early lost. 'Let your heart choose
my son,' said he. 'Marriage without true
affection, holds out but a poor show for hap
piness.'
Most of those, not directly interested in
the event, thought that Isabel Fortescue
ould curry off the prize. She was deci
dedly the belle of the village. Having re
ceived her education at a fashionable semi
nary, there was scarcely an accomplishment
of which she could not boast. Besides the
family of Vernon and Fortescue had been
the leading ones in the country for two gen
erations, and the gossips said that the union
of the two fortunes, and of the united influ
ence, would give Harry a position almost
unrivalled.
Certain it is that Harry visited Isabel very
often. Those who envied her accused her
of manoevring to win him.. 'Throws her
sell in his way continually,' said one. •Did
ever any body,' cried another, see a girl
make love so - barefacedly ?' She ought to
get him, I'm sure,' sneered another, .for she
had tried hard enough.' Nevertheless, as
honest chroniclers we must record the fact
that some of these very young ladies, such
is the infirmity of human riature•, did their
very prettiest to out-matmevre Isabel, and
get Harry for themselves.
Hurry had not seen Fanny since she was
a child. It Was only a month since she had
left school and returned home again ; and
the first time she joined in the village social
circle was at a pm nic. Here her blooming
complexion, graceful figure and ringing
laugh had been the theme of admiration by
the beaux, the envy of the belles. Harry
had been her partner in a dance or two,
and in common with many others, felt it
vvoulll t0.....ty h., go tho
morning after the party he sallied forth to
make the round of the village girls.
He first visited Isabel. She was reclin
ing on a nice sofa, charmingly dressed and
reading a novel. All she could talk about
was her fatigue. Yet she looked bewitch
ing, it was incontestible, in the subdued
light of that sumptuous parlor, with elegant
pictures on the walls, baguets of flowers all
about, and an atmosphere of exquisite refine
ment around. Never had Harry felt so
much tempted to be in love. He staid near
ly an hour when he fiad intended to stop on
ly a few minutes ; and would not perhaps,
have gone then, if other gentlemen had not
dropped in. From Isabel's he went to sev
eral other houses. Everywhere he found
the young ladies dressed to receive the com
pany. Some were reading novels ; some
had a book of pretty poetry open before
them ; and one who had a pretty hand was
coquetishly knitting, a purse. Not one of
them appeared to have anything serious to
do. Most of them affected, like Isabel, to be
quite languid, and talked as if the fatigue of
the day before had nearly killed them. '
Wheh Harry reached the pretty, but un
pretending cottage where Fanny resided
with her widowed mother, be found the hall
door, open to admit the breeze, and so just
tapping at the parlor entrance, he entered
bowing. In the shaded light of the cool
fragrant room, he could not, for a - moment
see : but he noticed immediately that the
apartment was empty. Just then, however
a fresh, liquid voice, as merry as a bird's in
June, was heard warbling in an inner apart
ment- Harry listened awhile, charmed, but
finding that his knocking was not heard,
and recognizing, as he thought, Fanny's
voice, finally made bold to go in search of
the singer. Passing down the hall and
through another open door, he suddenly
found himself in the kitchen, a large airy
apartment, scrupulously clean, with Fanny
at the end opposite to him standing before
a dough -trough, kneading flour and carrol
ling like a lark, •
It was a picture an artist would have lov
ed to'paint. Fanny's face was seen partly
in profile, showing to perfection her long.
ALLENTOWN, LEi:IGH COUNTY, PA., SEPTEMBER 27, 1854..
BY JAMES H. DANA
lashes, and bringing out in relief the pout
ing lips and round chin. The breeze blew
her brown curls playfully about and occa
sionally quite over her face, at which time
she would throw them back with a pretty
toss of her head. Her arms were bare ; and
rounder, whiter or more taper arms, never
were; they fairly put to blush with their
rosy peariness, the snowy flour powdered
over them. As she moved with quick steps
at her task, her trim figure showed all its
grace ; and her neat ankle and delicate foot
twinkled in and out. For awile she did not
observe' Harry. It - was not till she turned
to put down the dreging-box, that she be
held him.
Most of our fair readers, -wi3 .Auppose,
would have screamed,and perhaps have run
out at the opposite door. She blushed a lit
tle as was natural, but having no false shame
she saw no reason to be frightened merely
because a handsome young man had caught
her at work; So she courtesied prettily,
laughed one of her gayest laughs, and said,
holding up her hands.—
cant shake hands with you, Mr. Ver
non, you see. Mamma was kind enough
to let me go to the plc nic, yesterday, and
put off some of my work ; and so I'm doing
double work today to make up for it. If
you'll be kind enough to trait a minute, I
till call mamma.'
'No, no.' said Harry, charmed by such
frank innocence, and uncerimoniously tak
ing a well-scrubbed chair, Wye only a feu',
minutes to stay. My call is on you. I
came to see how you bore the fatigues of yes
terday.'
Fanny laughed till her teeth, so white
and so little, looked, behind the rosy lips,
like pearls set in the richest ruby enamel.
'Fatigued ! Why, we had such a charm
ing time yesterday, that one coulden't get
tired, even if one had been a hundred years
old.'
You'll never grow old,' said Harry, sur
prised into what would have been flattery,
if he had sincerely thought it ; and his
countenance showed his admiration. for the
bright happy creature before him.
Fanny blushed, but rallied, and answer
ed laughing. .Never grow old? Olt, soon
enough. Whet a funny sight I'll be, to be
sure, bent almost double, and a cap on my
head like granny Horn's.'
Harry laughed too, so ludicrieus was the
image ; and thus he and Fanny were as
much at home with each other, at once, us
if they had been acquainted for some years.
The intended five minutes impercepti
bly gr. w into ten, and the ten into hail an
hour. Funny continued at her huusenuld
wurk, pleasantly en:1.1111g the whir, With
she mid Hurry mutually so niteresteu as to
lorget time and piece alike. At last the en
trance ol Mrs. Somers interrupted the tete
ct-lete. Fanny was a little embarrassed,
when she lound how long she and Harry
had been aioi.e; but the easy matten;ol
- manner ol Harry as he shook hands
with her mother, restored he' to herself.
If the elegant refinement about Isabel had
tompted_Harty.to main love the honsehold
charm which surrounded Fanny 'forced him
to do so whether -or no. li e w ent away
thinking to himself what a charmin g
Fanny would make, and how sweetly she
would look in her neat, home dress, engag
ed in her domestic duties. Nor is Harry
the only young bachelor who remembers
that a wife cannot always be in full dress,
and who naturally wishes to know how she
will look in the kitchen. 'A wife ought as
much to know how to manage her own
house,' he said to himself, 'as a man to un
derstand his business. 1 don't wish a wile of
mine indeed, to be a maid of. all work; but I
should like to have her capable of overseeing
her servants; and domestics discover very
soon whether their mistress is competent,
and obey, or disregard her accordingly.—
Ah I if I had such adear little wife, now I'd
coax her to go into the kitchen occasionally,
that I might see her at work:.
It soon became apparent that it would be
no fault of Harry, if he did not have Funny
for a wife. Never was a man deeper in
love• '
nor did he make an effort to conceal it.
Had Fanny been a foolish flirt; she would
have played with 'his feelings, us vain girls
will never secure of a lover. But she was
too frank and good for this, and only hesi
tated long enough to be certain of the state
of her own heart, when she made Hurry hap
py by accepting him.
Two persons more fitter for each other, in
fact, could not be. Though always merry
because always happy, Funny was amiable,
intelligent and lull of sound sense. She had
read and thought a great deal, especially for
one so yourig. Her heart ran over with
'unwritten poetry.' Had Harry sought, for
a lifetime, he could not have found a wife
so companionable, and so suited in every
way to him.
What a talk the engagement made when
it came out ? The haughty Isabel, who
without being half as capable of sincere hive
as Fanny, had made tip her mind to have
Harry, and whose vanity, therefore, was
piqued, even degraged herself so much as to
call the bride elect 'an artful andintrigueing
puss.' Other disappointed beauties had oth
er hard names for Fanny. • But though,
when oar heroine first heard of these slan-
ders, she shed a few tears, she soon dried
her eyes, for, with. Harry's love nothing
could make her long unhappy.
It was not until the young couple had set
off on thdir wedding tour that Harry told
his wile what had first made him fall in love
with her.. •
'Every other girl I visited that'morning,"
he said, “was playing the• fine lady ; and
that while, as 1: well knew, their mothers
were often slay.ing in the kitchen. I reason
ed that the daughter who would neglect her
duty to a parent, could scarcely be less sel
fish towards a husband. Besides, it is a com
mon error with your sex, now-a-days, to
suppose that it is debasing to engage in do
mestic duties. To a man of sense, dearest,
a woman' 'never looks more attractive than
at such a time. As Wadsworth writes;
"Here modest notions, light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which there meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet ;
A creature not too bright and good
For human nature's daily food;
For ttanstent sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, lasses,.tears and smiles."
As he recited these lines, with exquisite
sensibility, he put his arm around Fanny's
waist, and drew her•towards him ; and the
young wife, looking up into his face, with
devoted affection, rested her head on his bo
som and shed happy tears.
And so we leave them.
A Romantic Match.
A Cincinnati paper has just learned of
some romantic adventures, which took place
at Cynthiana, Ky., a few days ago. IL ap
pears that a very clever, fine looking young
gentleman from Philadelphia, had occasion
to visit Cynthinana, on business during the
past winter, and while there, became ac
quainted with a young lady, Miss
somewhat celebrated for her charms. Mr.
S—, the Philadelphian; was not proof
against the bright eyes of the Kentucky
maiden. He had never seen such a glori
ous, liquid sparkling pair of orbs among the
daughters of the Old Keystone. He was
ravished, intoxicated, and finally proposed
to the bright eyes and was accepted. With
a light heart he started back to the Quak..
City to make the necessary arrangemen
for the celebration of his nuptials, the da
for which having already , been agreeitupon'
The winter rolled on, and spring and it
flowers came again, as also the particular
day for the lover's return; but he came not.
In two days more the marriage - arms to collie .
,iff. The fair one was restive and morti
fied. With her bright eyes full of tears she
denounced in secret the faithfulness of her
lover, and trembled at the open mortifica
tion which would overwhelm her if he Caine
not. At this favorable juncture an old and
discarded lover, whom no unkindness could
divest of hope or lessen the fervency of his
first affection, presented himself. He re
newed his undying love; the holy happi
ness of the wedded state; of a cottage some
where in the deep bosom of an umbrageous
grove, with the honey suckle and the jasmine
creeping over the windows and along the
the ia6ti....a. porch. The trembling fair one
was charined.at the Femur... Love and a
cottage—the quintessence of human bliss
in the estimation of a girl of "sweet
r)oosix
teen." She blushed and sin ' d, but yet
hesitated. The lover was ' ecstacies at
the favorable symptoms. With renewed
ardor he urged his suit. He was prolific in
tears and promises, and trimmed the cot
tage with a few more honey-suckles, and
the thing was done.
The Philadelphia gallant was given up.
He was a "laggard in love," and deserved
no consideration. Her faith was plighted
to another, and the same day fixed for the
marriage which was to have witnessed her
union with Mr. El—.
But the end was not yet. During the
same day a third lover presented himself
and declarej his passion. The fair maiden
frankly told him she had just engaged her
self to another, and invited him to the wed
ding as a guest instead of a groom.. On the
same evening, (Sunday) Mr. S— arrived
from Philadelphia. He was not long in
finding how matters stood. and was aghast
at the intelligence that Miss B— was to
be married to another instead of himself, on
the following Tuesday. He at once took
his way to her house and had an interview
with the result of which he seemed particu
larly pleased. He then stepped into the
principal livery stable in the place and ask
ed to hire the very beat carriage and horses
to go to Maysville. The proprietor inform
ed him that it would be impossible to ac
commodate him. That he was to be married
on the following Tuesday, and would have
use for all his carriages to go on a little bri
dal tour which he purposed. "May I ask
to whom?" said Mr. B—, with semen-lie
givings. "To Miss B—," was the reply,
Mr. 8— preserved %his temper, and ,
simply yemarked that it was highly impor
tam that he should be at Maysville at the
earliest possible moment, and that he was
prepared to give any reasonable price for, a
carriage. The liberality of his indirect of.
ter had a sensible effect on the proprietor.
He got out his best hack and pair, and
charged the young stranger the sum of $3OO
for the trip. In a very short time afterwards
Miss B— found herself sitting beside the
young Philadelphian, in the above mention
ed carriage, and going towards Maysville at
the rate of about ten miles an hour.
It was soon noised through the town that
Miss B-- had, run away with her Phila
delphia lover. Her guardian, who was op
posed to the match, at once mounted a fleet
horse and started in pursuit. About half
way to Maysville he overtook the fugitives
and attempted to seize the young lady
The young Philadelphian waited him ofl,
and spoke in this wise: “Sir you cant have
her; and you must go back and leave us to
pursue our journey, or you must kill me, or
kill you." This talk brought guardy
up standing. It was entirely unexpected.
And not wishing to kill, and particularly
not wishing , to be killed, he accepted the
first proposition, and turned rail and took
the back lrack. The lovers pursued their
way to Maysville, crossed over the Aber
deen, were married, drove back to Cynthi
ana, and put up at the principal hotel.
A crowd at once surrounded the ,house,
and threatened vengence on the Philadel
phian for carrying away the prettiest girl
in the town., and who was the promised
wife of an esteemed citizen. The young
man, nothing daunted. placed his wife safe
ly in a chamber, and then came boldly
down to the steps of the hotel, and began
to address the mob. If our phonographic
notes are correct, his speech was exactly in
these words: "Gentlemen : You ought not
to blame me for what I have done. Most
of you would have done the seine thing,
had you been in my place. Instead of
threats and reproaches, you ought to otter
me a complimentary supper. Still, it you
are not sati,fied, lain ready to give you sat.
isfaction. I will flak you all, one at a time
And if that don't do, Urn ready to put all
through at once, and then clean out the bal
ance of the town."
The show of chivalry was too much for a
'Kentucky audience. The sympathy of the
crowd at once changed sides. They guve
him three deafening cheers and then rush
ed in and congratulated him with all the
heartiness of the Kentucky character. The
landlord was ordered to bring out his best
Bourbon, and plenty of it, and the crowd,
with great good will and sincerity, gave and
drank to the happy groom the noble senti
ment—" None but the brave deserve the
fair?"
Kidd, the Pirate.
On the twelfth of May,,one hundred and
fifty -three years ago, the celebrated pirate
Kidd was hung in England for the crime of
murder. The lollowing sketch of the life of
the pirate, is lrom "Valentine's History of
the City of New York.
The slave trade, being a legitimate pur
suit and It:Mowed as a regular branch of
foreign trade for many years, was exceed
ingly profitable, though somewhat hazar
dous, owing to practical adventurers, who
followed them into their remote trading pla
ces, and 'men robbed them of their stores and
money used in the purchase of negroes.=
This practice 'became at last a pest to the
mercantile imoreln.S, that efforts were made
by influential merchants or New York to in
duce the English Ministry to assist them in
fitting out a cruising vessel properly armed,
to act against the pirates. Cot Hobert Lite
ingston, - ol New York, an active and influ
ential citizen, brought this matter before the
English government; and introduced Cap
tain William Kidd, of New York, as an ef
ficient and well known commander, whose
fitness for such service was well understood
in New York. He was a man of family,
and bad resided in New York for several
years. It was proposed to engage in this
enterprise on the footing of a private adven
ture, although it was also desirable, for some
purposes, that the scheme should receive
the official countenance of the government.
The king, Lord Somers, the Eral of Oomney,.
the Duke of Shrewsberry ; the Earl of Ox
ford, and Lord "Bellamont, joined in making
up the necessary expense of a proper ves
sel ; Col. Livingston also contributed a pro
portion. The profits were to be divided
among the owners of the ship, allowing a
liberal share to Kidd.
A commission was issued December 11,
1695, under the great seal of England, 'di
yected "to the trusty and well-beloved Capt.
William Kidd, commander of the ship Ad•
venture Gallery,' He set sail from Ply
mouth
in April, 1696, and orrived on the
American coast, where he contiatierfor
some tirrie, occasionally entering the harbor
of New York, and visiting his fimily in the
city. He was considered useful in protect
ing our commerce', for which he received
much applause, and the assembly of the pro
vinee voted him , the sum of two hundred
and fifty pounds, as a complimentary return
for his services. • „
Soon alter this he left this_ vicinity for.
more active operations on the coast of Afri
ca, and it was not long ere the astonishing,
news arrived that Kidd had commenced
the trade which he had been engaged to .
subvert, and had committed several piracies.
NUMBER 52.
The report of these facts coming, to the pub
lic knowledge in England, the circum
stance was made the subject of a violent at
tack upon the government by the opposi
tion party, and in the excess of party zeal,
it was alleged that the King himself, and
those concerned in the expedition, were
privy to the piratical adventure and shared
in its profits. The charge having color of
foundation, from the actual circumstances
of the case, made the question a subject 9f
state enquiry, and thus the name of William
Kidd, though perhaps personally less ob
noxious to the odious characteristics of his
profession than many others in history, be
came from its association with partizan war
fare between the great men of the state, the
most famous among the pirates of the world.
The noblemen engaged in the enterprise
underwent the form of a trial for their lives
but were acquitted.
The principal scenes of Kidd's piracies
were on the eastern coast of Africa, at Mad
agascar and the vicinity, where he captur
ed and rifled several vessels, without, how
ever as we have been informed by history,
committing extreme cruelties upon his cap
tives. The only person proven to have
been killed by him being a seamen of his
own name William Moore, whom he acci
dently slew by hitting him with a bucket,
for insubordination. Kidd having amassed
a fortune by this cruise, shaped his course
homeward believing, with a strange fatuity,
that no information of his depredation in
those remote parts of the world, had reach
'ed the scenes of his home. He brought his
vessel into Long Island Sound in The year
1609, and went ashore at Gardiner's Island
where, from some undiscoverable motive,
I
he made known his desire to bury a' quart--
I thy of treasures on the island, and did ac
cordingly deposit in the ground a consider
able quantity of gold, silver and precious
stones, in the presence of Mr. Gardiner,
but under strict injunctions of secrecy. The
deposit consisted of eleven hundred and elev.
en ounces of coined gold, two thousand three
hundred and fifty ounces of silver, seven
teen ounces of jewels and precious stones,
fiity bags of sugar, forty one bales of mer
chandise, seventeen pieces of canvas, one
large load stone, &c. Having thus disbur
dened the ship, he departed for Boston, with
the design, it is supposed, of selling his ves
sel. While here, however, he was recog
nized in the street, and apprehended. He
was sent to England for trial, and indicted
for the murder of William Moore, before
spoken of; and being convicted was hanged
in chains,at Execution Dock, May 12, 1701.
The wife of Kidd continued her residence
in this city after his death, herself and
daughter living in seclusiOn in a habitation
on the coast side of the town.
Bill Johnson:
The smuggler and patriot, whose exploits
on both sides of St. Lawrence and in the in
tracacies of the Thousand Mends, made
him famous during the rebellion in Canada, '
some seventeen years ago, and who,' RS a
consequence of his eccentricities. suffered a
long imprisonment in the jail at . Albany, '
ROW fills the post of light-house keeper, on
Rock Island, one of the above named grotiP
a short distance below French Creek. The
island is what its name imports, a clump of
rocks, almost destitute of natural soil, but
JOhnson has quite a productive garden there..
on, his vegetables deriving their sustenance
from earth which he had transported from
the main land in hie boat.„ The salary of
his office is small, either 8350 or *4OO, but_
he lives frugally, and by picking up some- -
thing outside of regular business, by means
of fishing and kiridred pursuits,'he manages
to save a considerable portion of the amount
every year. He is contented and happy,
and fond of 'seeing visitors, to whom he re
counts the romantic incidents of his event
ful career, and magnifies the
"achievements
which has given him so much notoriety.
.
He gives an amusing 'account of the man
ner in which he obtained his office, through
the instrumentality of Gov. Marcy. lie
went to Washington, without any recom
mendations or credentials of any kind. de
pending wholly upon his personal charac
ter. Obtaining an interview with the Gov
ernor, he disclosed his wishes, without cer
emony or circumloeution. ""I'm Bill John- .
son," said he, "you know me by reputation
as I do you, if fou don't know me by sight.,,
I want The place ef light-house keeper on
Rock Island; in St:Lawrence...J(s , ou con
give it to me, libel! be thankful—if not I*
must try to do without it." , •
' , l've heard all about you Bill, 'and know
you perfecily well. You shall have the
place. ' And a line from the Governor, to
Mr. Secretary Guthrie Atl;khe business at
once. And if Governor - Ma' ;needs any
aid in St. Lawrence county, anson •
is the man to render it."--Bu/.
',eraser.
rar •Jim . , I believe Sam's *gni no' With in
'You don't know nige; dal e s more truth
in that nigger dan all de rest on do pinata
tion.'
'How you make dat outf'
'Why•he never let any our, you-fool.