' "• — 1 -I. .. ii. —!) ULLJgpMßMgwiiiiii 11 _ir""Y ; II I | || "i - THE STAR OE THE NORTH. it. W. Weaver Proprietor.] .VOLUME 3. TUB STAR OF TIIE KORTH It published cverp Thursday Morning, by 11. IV. WEAVER. OFFICE — Up stairs inJkrNetc Brick building on the south side of Main street, third square helutc Market. TERMS 4'WO Dollars per annum, if paid Within six months from the time of subscri bing; two dollars and fifty cents if not paid within the year. No subscription received Cor a less period than six months: no discon tinuance permitted uutil all arrearages are paid, unless at the optioft of the editors. ADVKRTISEM F.NTS not exceeding one square will be inserted three times for on# ddllpr,an(l Iwenty-five cents for each additionl inser tion. d liberal discount will be made to. those whi advertise by the year. fYam thq N. Y. Tribune. BPEAK ILOI.ULY I BY WM. OI.AND BOURNE. Speak boldly. Freemen ! while to-day The strife is rising fierce and higlf) Gird on the armor while ye may In holy deeds to win or die ; The Age is Truth's wide battle-field, The Day is struggling with the Night, ForFreodom hath again revealed A Marathon of holy right. Speak boldly, Hero ! while the foe Treads onward with his iron heel; Strike steady with a giant blow, And flash aloft the polished steel; Be true, O Hero ! to thy trust ! Man and thy God both look to thee ; Be true, or sink away to dust— i Be true, or hence to darkness flee. Speak bojdjy. Prophet ! Let the fire 01 Heave'n come down on altars curst, Where Baal priests and seers conspire To pay their bloody homage first; Be true, O Prophet ! Let thy tongue Speak fearless, for the word 9 are thine— Words that by morning stars were sung, And angels hymned in strains divine. Speak boldly, Toet! Let thy pen Be nerved with fire that may not die; Speak for the rights of bleeding men Who look to Heaven with tearful eye Bo true, O Poet I Let thy name Be honored where tho weak have trod. And in the summit of thy fame, Be true to Man ! Be true to God ! Speak boldly, Brothers! Wake, and Come ! The Aoakim are pressing on I In Eeapdom's strife be never dumb I - . GiW tlashing blades till all is won ! • Belwe, O Brothers! Truth is strong ! 'Tho foe shall sink beneath the sod— While love artd bliss shall thrill the song That Truth to Man, is Truth to God I From the Few York Dutchman. ledediab Doughkins and the "Bloo mer." BY HENRY HOWARD PAUL Jedediah Doughkins was a Yankee farm er, living a few miles from Bangor, in the Slate of Maine. Like most Yankee farmers, > he was possessed of a good share of the na tional characteristic shrewdness found in that class of New Englanders on the other side of the river Merrimack, "looking east," j though in the ways of the world and the times he was providentially verdant—as; much so as his own clover tops before bud- I ding. Jedcdian was a tall, kno'ty "speci mea," with round goggle eyes, long carroty ; hair, a good Matured mouth, only two of the front teeth were not at home, with a big seed wart on his nasal protuberance, which | latter, by the way, was far from a pug, droo. ping, as it were, like a fatigued willow over; a duck-pond. His usual dress—"the one ho j went about the house in"—consisted of a j pair of old ox-hlde boots, the seams of | which were always interlarded with hog's grease, which was done, as Jed said, "to : keep out the contarnal watera pair of trowsers made in the highest style of crude, ! home-spun art, of the very finest quality ol bed-ticking, which was perpetually to be . seen labelled at all the country shops. "Six cents a yard, by the piece coat, linsey woolsey, painfully shaggy, with an inconsis tently long tail, draggling about if lie happen- i ed '.o stoop, and which tapered down like the lellei V ; shirt, of coarse texture, un •tarched and unironed, with a collai ol broad dimensions, that two inches longer would ; have resembled a wilted monk's cowl, and jiover, by any chance, "stood straight up," i but bung over every which way, full of un- S defined crinks and crinkles ; vest, of an an- j <tique pattern, the color of faded dirt, with a 1 figure that was artistically intended to repre- j aent a smart sportsman, but which in reality 1 Joekd mere like an intoxicated Jack of Dia- 1 monds with a crooked shillelah. His hat— : not to make a beastly old pun, so we thus ! episodically warn the reader not to excuse . us—was the crowning "brick" of this tene- j ment of odditude (a coinage; how do you like it 1) —it looked as if it had passed through "fiery trials," or had belonged to some of Noah's very intimate friends. Of course it was a beaver, en out-and out frow sy, foozey' old beaver, shaped not like a bell, nor a "Scaramouch," nor what is called in England a "wide awake," nor yet a stove pipe, nor pear pattern, but something like whole of these, wiih perhaps en ascen dency of the pear—'.hat is a certain bnrli nesa juat below lite crown that imparted to it a droll yet comfortable aspect. By some un accountable chance this hat waa always or in all proper bonnds nearly so. on h<s hoad ; and hit long grizzled yellow hair, "tangled but not silky," hung over hit freckled cheeks like two terrified ussals on a window sill. Thus attired, Jedediah wandered about bis few acres of ground, the admired owner of a number of pigs, cows, chickens, turkeys end dogs, all of whom seemed instantly to know thatr master, and respected him ac roidinglj. Jedediah bad a wife—a round, oily little BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY. PA.. THURSDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1851. woman—who, from having lived in the ear ly part of her life in a good sized village, had contracted a certain fondness for dress, and therefore whs less bizarre in her costume than her spouse. A red shawl, for example, was her "anguish," and when flounces fust came up, she got them so high as to look like a chubby or old-fashioned cask, hooped around clear up to the head. She had a great .weakness for fans, 100, ornamented with "picters of things.'' So far did she carry this fantastic notion, thai she had one for every day in the week, and a splendid large pat one for the Sabbath. There was her Monday fan, with a scene on the river Hudson, done in water colors' Her Tuesday one had a little oil painting of a scene in Greece, and a gilt handle. Then caine the Wednesday, with Donaparte crossing the Alps, with one of the ears and half of the tatl of the hero's horse obliterated. This wat a present from Jedediah when they were courting. He used to look r.t the fan when he couldn't think of anything better to say, nnd remark, "What a great man Bony must have been, to git bis boss over them mountings?" The Thursday one was em blazoned witli the head of Washington ; and Gloryatm Bilings, one of her noices, used to say "that she loved that fan, bckase the good old feyther of his country waß on itand Jedebiah often said • bat the "General was one of the boys for tiousers," and then won der if he'd ever have a son that would make so much "stir iri the world." The Friday fan wi s intended as a representation of a Chinese family, but the colors had run so, that it would have taken a skilful etenolo gist to make out the race. The Saturday one was sllghdy zoological in intention, de lineating an elephant attacked by tigers, but which in reality suggested the appearance of aa irregularly erected two-storied house, with a couple of absurb looking torn cats, ready to make a jump if required. The Sunday one was trimmed round with feath ers, and never, by any chance, made its ap pearance, except on the "good day," after which it was embedded in the best drawer among a handful of dried rose leaves. Jeiiediah (if it is not meddlesome to reveal family secrets) did not altogether approve of ! his wife's leaning towards finery, and fre- ; quently gave her a piece of his honest mind { on the subject of everything in the way of' furbelows. She said he was foolish and old ■ fashioned, and he said she was sour-temper ed and stuck-up. He thovght she was wrong, and she Liuw aha wa* right. She argued that a moderate regard to fashion was es sential in a woman, and as far as that wen l she was determined to "be in the season un til she was fonr-and-forty." He would then doff that old fur hat a moment, rub his sleeve over it, in order to settle the nap j look at her for a moment with his gteat round eyes; resume the hat again ; twist his hair with his thumb ; and then walk off. This was his only demonstration up to the j present time, but circumstances knocked so loudly one day a', the door of his temper, that he "let out a little," as will be seen- Shortly after the Bloomer mania broke out, j Dame Doughkins, unknown to Iter husband, j gradually became tinctured with the idea of the short skills and Turkish don't-spoak-of' 'ems. She had road in the village paper a graphic detail of the mode of making the dross, with so glowing a description of its appearance and advantages, that she secret edly and stoutly resolved on having an outfit if it were just to say that she had "followed the lashuns."*—ln this determination she re ceived the approval of a neighbor, ono Mrs. Rbuly Tuto, a friond from town, who used to pay her a monthly visit, and bring down more gossip and scandal than would fill a volume the size of "Cook's Completo Voya ges," even if it were printed iu agate, which, as all booksellers know, lakes in a vast deal of matter to the page. Mrs. Rhuty Tute was a sort of Mrs. Malaprop, a cross be tween the loquacions old lady and the pres ent Mrs. Partington, with her brain full of whimsical conceits or dress and fashion, and a tongue that run with painful inlet mission. To add to her other charms, alio lisped—yes, lisped ; decidedly, surely and unmistakeably | lisped. But fully understand, reader, she did j not allow this to trouble her in the least—it : nothing stood in her way—nothing. I Several letters passed on the subject of j this Bloomer costume, and before long Mrs. ; Illiuly Tute, overflowing with intelligence, posted down to the farm, where she found I her friend in arms and eager to meet her. Oh, such a chatter as they had. She had, i of course, brought wi'.h her patterns and I plans—metter and material, for the new cos tume, but poor Jedediah was all in the dark, j "Now, Ido thsy that thith tli'.uff will look I thuperb," exclaimed Mrs. Rhuty Tute, dis ! playing two-and-a-half yards of peach-color ed silk, and feasting her gaze upon the fig ures of it. "Mr. Thimth, the shopmnn, says that it i tho if carce, becauiho it's a little out of the theason." "Well, 1 guess he's about right," says : Mrs. Donglikios, "I haint seen nnar-re peach ' tint for a good long time in these parts. : That's to matte the petty-loons, I reckon." I "No, dear, that's for what they calls the | 'vitite'—they culls 'em on the lhage a tunic, ! but Mrs. Bloomer lhays that it's wulgar to use thags words in thociety, and tho we calls 'em visites.' Its very like the common man tilla what every body wears." It was arranged that a Bloomer dress should be at onoe prepared; and the ladies proceeded to woik. Mrs. Rhuty Tute direc ted the patterns, and Mrs. Jedediah plied her -needle according to instructions. "Deer rue, bow Pa wiU look when he seee me dressed all up in ibis. !le won't know me, will he!" asked the dame. "Won't he indeed? To be thnre he will, only he'll thay you look ten years younger," replied Mrs. Rhuty Tute. "We'll never soy a blessed word to him until we get all ready." "Not a ihyllable. We'll take him quite by surprise," continued Mrs. Rhuty Tute, winking her great tabby eyes, and pucker ing up ber mouth with an amiable leer. And ardently these worthy ladies bent over the materials of their now enterprise. When Jedediah happened to stalk into the apartment, they slipped the Bloomer trim mings qside, ard supplied their place by a roll of sober-looking patchwork. He, good easy soul, never dreamed of what was go ing on, although an occasional glance at Mrs. Rhuty Tute seemed to indicate n tacit objec tion to her presence. A bevy of lively little French milliners never chatted so familinrly orer gilt finery, as the two Bloomer converts. Mrs. Rhuty Tute once or twice absolutely grew playful, and went so far as to say, that she wouldn't have eared a pin if she had been born a man—the trousers were so easy. The little box contained studs and ribbons, and tassals, and another contained pretty pear! bullous and wristlets of various pat terns, all of which Mrs. Rhuty Title had brought with her, byway of creating a mo dicum of astonishment in the bosom of her friend. After tho dresses were completed, it was decided that they should be worn immedi ately after dinner. Jedediah would be gone to the barn, and by the time he got back, all would be ready. The arrangement then was that Mrs. Doughkins should be attired first, as the description she had read in the vil | lage paper did not clearly enlighten her a*to I the manner of getting into each respective | habiliment, and her friend's assistance was, under the circumstances, almost indispensa , ble. The secrets of a lady's dressing-room are held, and properly too, sacredly inviola ble, so will content ourselves by merely im agining that they must have had a funny time in assuming the new garb. Mrs. Dough kins, at the best of periods, even when a bout that which she thoroughly understood, was never remarkable for grace or aptness, so we have a right to suppose that she—fat, chubby, little creature as she was—suffered some mental agitation, though momentary it might have been. I'elcg, a servant-man, had been two days borrowing small looking-glasses, on fno sly, from the neighbors around, for which subor nation Mrs. Rhuty Tute bad graciously re warded him with two cents, and a Christian injunction net to spend the money foolishly. Peleg, by the way—we may as well mention it—heeded her advice to the extent of being found that same night in a stale of intoxica tion, having taken up lodings with his head en an elderly sow, who, grunting dismally, made n sort of refrain to Peleg's "snore," which was not of the most harmonious char acter. Much luss and ftdgetting over, the ladies | were at last ready. Mrs. Rhuty Tute laugh ied at Mrs' Doughkins, and vice versa. Mrs. i Rhuty Tute said, with a pain in her aide, , that Mrs. Doughkins looked like a "lhaucy I dumplin,' and Mrs. Doughins could not do | better than tell Mrs. liliuty Tute that she looked like a "saucy dumpliu" too. Mrs. Doughkins oould not walk, but waddled, somewhat after the fashion of the ancient duck, when emerging from a favorite pond, and Mrs. Rhuty Tute, be it said, to our hor ror, actually kicked up her heels, and threw | a ball of yarn on the floor for puss to play with. Down stairs they wont, tittering and shaking their heads, into the large dining room, from which they could command a view of the barn, and they had scarcely sat in I a couple of high-backed, crooked-buttomed, ! easy chairs, before in walked Jedediah, with a hoe upon his shoulder, whistling a I bar and a half of "Vankeo Doodle," just at that particular portion of the air where the 1 words infer ihathe, (Yankee Doodle,) 'came I to town on a spotted poney." ! Jedediah started. Were it a pair of fat 1 fairies he was gazing at ? They did not move, and he brandished his hoe with an ; altitude of defiance. All at once Mrs. Rhu ty Tute jumped from ber seat, which so alar mod Mrs. Doughkins, that she trembled from bead to loot. "Jerusalem Crir.hums! is that yeou ?" shrieked Jedediah in one breath, bis eyes starling almost out of their sockets, while his beaver toppled over off bis bead, "What in the name of all that's super-human now and for ever, till kingdom come, and all the time henceforth and hereafter, have yeou been and done ?" "We—wc—we're B—B!—Bloom—Bloo mers /" stuttered Mrs. Doughkins, almost frightened out of her wits, and holding on to the chair with both hands byway of sup port. Mrs, Rhuty Tute smiled. "You're what?" again shrieked Jedediah, running his fipgeis through his carrotty hair, and giving his "bed tick" a long hitch— ' What—what the Jehu is Bin—mers! Look a-hcre, Mrs. Rhuty-loot, you're a pas sal of fools—neow 1" "Mr. Dowkins!" exclaimed Mrs. Rhuty Tute reproovingly, "beware, Mr. Dowkins, what you say to thenthible perthons, or you may repent thuch conduct!" "Re—pent your self—what do you mean by Blu—mere ? Chaw me up for gun wad din' if I understand what this mean*—ne ow 1" replied Jedediah, in a high estate of excitement. Mrs. Doughkins by this time slightly re covered herself and stood up, which caused Truth M WW Country. .-x—■_ * r' .iiiT/ ,i", tiiLj 1 1 il her respected spouse to advance a foot, a foot and a half, or two feet back "Consarn my skin ii yeou don't look like ' acouple of lost Turks! Du tell me, Betsy, 'Melia, where on earth did yon get such rig gins out. May Iba catasplasm'd in several places if I ever saw the like since Deacon Miller's cousin, Ike Barebones, told me the world was comin' to an end when it didn't." "Why, now I'll tell you, Mr. Dowkinlh, we're thenthible femaleth, as you ought to know," said Mrs. Rbuty Tute, with an affec tation and earnestness that caused her friend to look down at her plump feet (squeezed into small shoes,) in astonishment. "And as Jonah ot Arch said when she was crow ned Qiueu of Thpain, women ot mtnd havo a right To expreth themselves." "Consarn your women of mind 1" inter rupted Jedediab. "Hear me out, Mr. Dowkintbit* nut of ten I speak, and when I do, I want to be heard I" continued the lady. "Now look a-hear again, Mrs. Rhuty 800 l ii 'Mlhuty Tute, if you please." "Well, Rhuty Toot, or Rhuty Brute, or any thing yeou like—that's a darn wilful mistake—yeour tongue runs faster than a squirrel up a sycamore, or a bullet eout of a rifle. Hold mo under a pump, and sleuce me a-drippin', if I wouldn't cut my throat with a biled carrot, and die an orphan, if my tongue waggled like yourn, by Jehu I" "Mr. Dowkinlh 1" screamed Mrs. Rhuty Tute, growing very red in the fnoe, and seeming somewhat strange and uncomforta ble in the costume, "Mr. Dowkinth, do you mean- to expeach my integrity 1" "I don't care a toad's blessing what I peach or apple ; "but I mean your tongue runs wus than aunt Sally Struggle's, and hers runs so bad they had to put a mustard plas ter on her neck to draw the words 'tother way." "Jediah, Jediah, you're behavin' rude to company," chimed in Mrs. Doughkins, floun cing about with an awkward gait. "Yeou go and take off tlirm Turkey things and not make a goose of yourself IF replied Jed., jerking his Jack of Diamonds waist coat, and adjusting his beaver. "If Deacon Dunklehead, or any of his daughters, were to come in neow, they'd think yeou'd gone stark mad, so they would." "I tell you agin, Jeddy, I'm a Bloomer!" said Mrs. Doughkins. "You're a Squab, more like—why yeou look like a 'couple Injuns en a spree—half men and hall women—go and lake 'em off!" "We won't do it, Mrs. Dawkins; we won't just for impereace 1" said Mrs. Rhuty Tute. "Will we, dear?" "No, I guess we won't ; we want to be Bloomers," concided Mrs. Doughkins. "Yeou won't, won't yeou ?" bellowed Jed , throwing his hat down with a flourish. "Yeou say you won't ?" Mrs. Rhuty Tute nodded with a spiteful leer. 1 "Well, now I want it understood, Mrs- Jedediah Doughkins, it's not often I get my Ebenezer riz, but may I be made into hard cider and drank at 'lection day if yeou don't go and take off them vulgar-lookiu' half trowsers. and that scimpy lookin' frock, I'll 1 go right off and dress myself in petticoats, and ride straddle into town oil the grey mare." Mrs. Doughkins screamed. "I tell yeou I'll do it," continued Jede diah, "Neow, you'd better lake 'em off. Will yeou take 'em off—speak quick, or I'll have the grey mare saddled in less than a 1 flash of greased lightnin'." Mrs. Doughkins was alarmed, and looked 1 at Mrs. Rhuty Tute, who seemed somewhat 1 taken aback by this strange menace, i "No, she won't 1" exclaimed the latter la i dy. l "Yes, yoa—l—l—." Mrs. Doughkins I was about to say sho would, but her friend i gavo her such a thrilling look, that she did ! not finish the sentence. "Very well. Hey, Peleg, saddle up the t mare 1" hooped Jedediah. "Neow, Betsy t 'Alalia, where's your blue geo.vn and the i Sunday fan ; I'll turn all the drawers inside - out, wus than a young earthquake;"£and sei - zing the hoe he made a rush for the stairs, 1 and after him flew the "Bloomors," as fast as their respective obesity would permit. ' "Oh, oh! he'll ruin my fans!" screamed s Mrs. Doughkins, waddling up the stairs, and 5 Shouting at the t6p of her voice. "And my 1 blue gown, and my red shawl! Oyes, yes, ' Jeddy, I'll lake 'em off—l'll take 'em—in ' deed I will 1" i Jedediah, as good as his word, before the Bloomers reached the dressing-room, had • pulled out tho best buieau drawer, and com t menced ransacking its contents. The linen > and hosiery fell in a shower on the floor. "Oh, don't Jeddy, don't, and I'll never be a Bloomer agin'!" imploringly screamed his wife, wiping the cold perspiration off her > faco, and sinking at the fool of the bed. i "Pou're shure you'll never put them flap " jacks on your lags agin 1 ?" • "Never 1" "As true as yeour name's Betsy 'Melia Doughkins." ' "Never 1" i "Then I won't take yeour red sbawl, and 1 yoour blue gown, nor the Sunday fan, arid ride straddle into town on the grey mare." I "No, no—no, don't," eho blubbered. "I won't." And in less than half an hour, though f Mrs. Rhuty Tute told her she was "an ath lonishiu' weak woman," Mrs. Doughkins • had shed the "costume,"and resumad the II good old skill of every day life, much to the satisfaction of her husband, who gave her a kiss, looked black at the visitor, stroked his frowsy beaver, and vowed, that after 'all said and done, he was the "condarnest happiest cretnr alive, if people woulden't pizen his wife with new notions." It is almost needless to say, that Mrs. Je dediah Doughkins has never since attempted a "Bloomer." THE GREASED POLE; SHOWING HOW ZEKE PHILPOT OOT SOCKED IN, a THEN AGIN HOW HE DIDN'T. Ezekiah Philpot was born in America, somewhere near the head waters of the Pen obaool, and when he arrived at the age of nineteen he had 'got his growth' and cut his 'eye teeth,' a circumstance which was gen erally admitted by all who knew him. One bright morning in June, Zeke placed his long body into a clean shirt, run his longer legs through anew pair of striped trowsers, } wrapped a bran new waistcoat about his breast, hauled up his stiff starched cotton dicky, and tied a check gingham about his neck, and then donned the swollow-tailed coat, the brass buttons of which looked like a row of newly risen stars. Zeke was liter ally a pioneer in the 'Bloomer Costume,' at least so one would have thought to have seen him as he stood now. lie disdained to have his trowsers'-legs dan. gling in the mud, or to have the cuff* of his coat slopping in the wash-bowl; so his blue stockings deeped forth from beneath the tops of his cowhides and looked up full sis inches to the trowsers' bottoms, wltilo his bony wrists had free scope from either shirt sleeve or cuff. Zeke's hair, which was ol no color in particular but bore all the lighter shades of the vegetable kingdom, was down flat with pure bar's ile, and directly on the top of his head he put u white hat, somewhat resembling an inverted butler firkin, and al ter gazing at his presentment in the looking glass for four and a half minutes, he was heard to say— 'Thar, Mr. Zeke Philpot, if yeou don't slide on that, then I guess what ainl what, that's all.' Zeke was bound for Bosting with a load of genooine applo-sass, and he expected, ere he returned to make a slight commo tion, if not more, in the great metropolis. The old mare was harnessed, and in due coutse of time Zeke and his load arrived in Bosting, where the 'sass' was disposed of to good advantage, and with seventy-fivo dol lars in his pocket, our iiero began to look round to see the nights. ' 'JW-low !' exclaimed Zeke, as he stopped one morning before a blazing playcard which adorned one of the brick walls in the Flag Alley ; 'wat'n tarnation's that ? A Golden Ladder —a Road tu For——t-u-n-c—oh, fortin that's it—a road to fortin.' Zeke went on to decypbor the reading beneath, and gradually he obtained the in telligence that on the Back Bay there was to bo a pole twenty feet high, upon the top of which the proprietor would place a prize of S2OO, to be retained by any one who could obtain it. Chances $3. Wal, tew hundred dollars is some punk ins,' soloquized Zeke., 'l've clum some pooty skinny trees in my day. I'll jes' walk inter that feller's tew hundred, rot me if I deon't. With this feeling of cupidity, Zeke started for the scene of action, and 'twas not until he had run down a dozen apple-women in hi* course that he remembered his entire ig norance of where the Back Bay might be, and when this information was gained, lie happened to remember that the'old mare' hadn't been seen to. Zeke was economical in his horse-keep ing. He hired a single stall in a small shed near the Providence Depot, bought his own hay, and took care of his own animal Thither he hastened his steps, and having watered his beast, he took from his wagon box an old wool-card, and raked down the mare in the most approved manner, to be sure the steel teeth moved a leetle more harshly over the bones than usual, but then Zoke was in a hurry, for that 'tew hundred' was ir. his eye. At length, by dint of much inquiry, Mr. Ezekial Philpot found his way to the spot where the people had already began to col lect around the 'Golden Laddr.' '/M-low !'exclaimed Zeke, as he came up ; 'what's the chap wot keeps this 'ere pole ?' 'l'm the man,'answered a burly fellw with a red nose and a pimpled chin, who occu pied a chair near the pole; want to try a chance ? Walk up, gentlemen, walk up— ouiy three dollars. Who wants the two hun dred ? Who—' 'Hole on, ole feller,' interrupted Zeke; 'dew yet mean to say as heow't there's lew hundred dollars in that 'ere bag up t' lop o' that pole *' 'Certainly.' 'An' if 1 ken get it it's mine ?' 'You can have a chance for three dollars.' ' 'Xaclly. Wal, neow, there's yer Ihreo dollars, an' neow here's wot goes for the Hull lot.' Zeke divested himself ol his coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and, giving a powerful leap, he grasped the pole about ten feet from the ground. A singlo second—not longer—he staid there, and then—slid back upon terra-firma. Zeke looked at his hands, and then down upon his striped trowsers. Then he looked at his hands again and, raising them to hia nose, while a deep, long smell seemed to set bis doubts and queries at rest, be uttered— ' The d 1! Hog's fit, by holey /' > A broad iatigh from the crowd soon brought Zeke to his senses, and convinced him that he had been sold. But ere he could find his tongue again, an old salt, about 'three sheets in the Wind,' paid for hia ohance and essayed to climb the pole.—The sailor bugged and tugged, got half way up, and then slid. The crowd laughed again, bu' this lime their attention was turned from Zeke to the new aspirant, and after wailing a moment in a sort of 'brown study,' our he ro quietly slipped away, remarking to the red nosed man that 'he was goin' to get three dollars, and then he'd be dauged if he didn't try it again.' In an hour Zeke was again upon the ground. 'Neow, ole feller, said lie to the man who took the entrance money, 'I want tew jisl try lhabere thing wnnst more, an' I want yew t' understau' 'at I shall jis' take off'my shews this time.' 'Got nothing in your stockings V suggest ed the red-nosed man. 'Notliin' but my feel,'returned Zeko as he planted thirteen inches of flesh and bones into the lap oi the querist. Zeke paid his three dollars, and, minus coat, vest and 'shews,' he grasped the pole. Slowly, yet steadily he crept up from the ground. He hugged like a blood-sucker to the greased pole, and by degrees he nrared the top. His hand was within a few feet of the bag of dollars, and he stopped to get breath. One more lift and then another, and —the prize was within his grasp. Zeko slid to the earth with two hundred dollars ! 'Thar! I knowd'd I could do it. I hain't clum spruces and white maples all my days for noth'n ! Good bye, folks, an' 'f onny of yeou ever cum down east, jist guv us a call.' Zeke left the crowd in wonder, and made the best of his way to his stable. He shu the door of the shed, and then pulling up his trowsers, he united from the inside of each knee one half of the steel-toothed leather of his old horse-card ! 'Wal, old Dobbin,' said Zeke, patting (lie mare affectionately on the back, while he held the pieces of card-leather in his hand, the sca'lerir.g teeth of which had been filed sharp, 'raythar guess I ken 'ford to buy yeou a new keard neow.— Boston Carpet Bag. EF" ,'fs Mr. Bluster at home ?' 'No sir,' said the servant, 'he is out of town.' 'When can I see him ?' 'I don't know. Have you any special business with Mr. Bluster V 'Yea, there is an account I wish to settle.' 'Well,' remarked ihs servant, ■! can't say when he will gel back.' 'But I wish to pay the bill, as I am to leave town immediately.' 'Oil ! yau wish to pay him some money Well, perhaps I may be mistaken—he may be up stairs. Please walk in sir, your hat if you please, sir; Mr. Bluster will be with you in a momont.' EF In Fewbury, Counecticut, in 1673, a jury of a dozen old women held an inquest on the body of Elizabeth Hunt. The fol lowing verdict, verbatim el literatim, was ren dered, and, dnublloss, was perfectly conclu sive and satisfactory : 'VVe judge, according to our best light and continents, that the death of said Elizabeth was not by aqj- yiolentoi wrong dun by any person or thing, but by- sum sudden stopping ot her breath.' EF An Irishman passing down street the other day, discovered a one dollar bill laying on the pavement. Ho eyed the cratur suffi ciently to ascertain that it was of the stamp of one on which the day previous he had lost ten cents byway of discount 'Bad iuok to the like o' ye /'exclaimed Pat, as he pas sed on ; 'there ye may lie ; devil a finger will I put on ye, lor I lost ten cents by a a brother of ye'a'yeaierday. 1 GEOGRAPHY. —'How many poles are there?, —'Three.' 'Name them.' 'The North Pole the South Pole, and the 'Pole which knock ed down tho Persimons.' 'Right. Next, i Which is the principal sea in Europe ?' 'Tho sea of Rome,' 'Very good. Which are the principal capes in the United Slates ?' 'The capes of fashion.' 'Good. What kind of fish are most common ?' 'Cod fish aristoc racy.' EF A French commandor, who, during an engagement, had kept liiraseff prudent ly enscouced in a mill, was after victory, loudly oxlolled by one of his partizans. 'He retains,' oried the eulogist, 'covered wilii glory.' 'You had better say with flour /' remarked a bystander. IF" Poor bans be bit himself mil a snatlie-rake and vash sick into his bed for six long wneeks in de month of August and all da dime he zay vater 1 Vater 1 and he did cat notin tit he gomplained of be ing better, so ash lie coutd stand upon his elbow and eat a little tea. tsr An eloquent preacher paused in the middle of hia sermon, and remarked; 'it I were at home, (meaning his own churoh) I would say something abont going to sleep bnt a* I am not, I forbear.' In an instant, heads which had been quietly resting on the adjacent pew backs, straightened up. EF The man who ascended Bunker Hill Monument on the outside, to avoid the pay ment of tbe eniraaoe fee, was arrested last week and bound over for trial. He appeals to the higher law in justification, [Two Dollars per AnRUm. NUMBER 48." From Ike New York DiOehman, Crnmbs tor all Kindt of Cklcluff.' "Mr. Shotvrfian, what's that I" "That, my clear, ia the Ring-tail monkey. | He swings by the tail till he gets (be appo plexy, when he falls into a swoon, a little oil' the boil. He ramo from New Holland, where he feeds on nuts and c.ther vegetables of the animal kingdom, which grows sponta neously in the desolate rigion. He was brought to this country as a present from the Caliph of Bagda 1 to General Jackson, and was deposited in the archires of the govern ment till be was translated into this here co!-" lection or Natural History, by. the author of the Stuffed Zebra. Valk in, gentlemen upjJ | ladies, and see what you shall see. Admia- ~ sion 25 cents—no liextra charge for blind people. Children half price—no peepin' over the fence. Little boy, get off that cart, Tarn that horgun, Bill, here comoa a green' W "Please sir, lend poppy y our knife to maka a pen with." "Certainly, my 6on, here it is." Youth retires with the knife, and returns IS about an hour. "Please sir, here's your knife ; poppy's done with it." "I should think ho was. Why, what the devil has he been doing with it? I (bought he wanted it to make a pen V "So he did; but I forgot to say it was a pig-pen." Exit youth a little in advance of an ohf boot The author of the Hexagonal Syrup, has just invented a new salve "for taking on* fire." A gentleman who "burnt his fingers" in speculating in cotton, says a shilling's wo rth got up "such a reaction in his feelings" that he went into Wall street arid so content • ed on Harlem railroad stock, that in less than an hour he was as whole as ever. Pious invalids are always worse on Mon day ih in any oilier day of the week. The cause of this, is the bad air they meet with in most of our churches on the Sabbath. A physician of our acquaintance says he never cured a man of consumption, who persisted in going "regularly to meeting." Ilere'i a fact that our architeets and divines would do well to dwell on. That California is certainly a great placet. A correspondent at San Francisco writes ua that he has seen beets as big as lamp posts, while the commonest kind of cala "measure as big" as New-York carrots, and are sliced up for tea like our white radishes. —That 1 young gentleman bee either nrr. ■ grot deal, or else "lie's some" on lying. Doobs says people would live longer, if they were not afraid of dying. The very means we lake to "prevent catching cold," is tbe very means thai bring about consump tion. Fire-heated sleeping-rooms do more* towards keeping up the* value of drugs and hearses, than all the wet feet that ever wa* pod Dr. March says tho best cure for hystericsi is to discharge the servant girl. In his opin ion, there is nothing like "flying around" to keep the nervous system from becoming un strung. Some women think they want a phy sician, he says, when they only need a scrub bing brush. "Mr. Jones, you said you wore connected with the fine arts. Do you mean by that that you are a sculptor ?" "No, sir, I don't sculp, myself, bat I fas nish the stone to the man what does." Jones mas be looked upon as a distant re lation of the Chisel family. The poetry signed "Pasanius," has been received. We regret to sny that not a man in the office can read a line of it. The au thor is somewhat connec'ed, we should think, with our friend Deodatus Wright, the •Recorder of Albany, a gentlemen who writes three different hand-'. One a stranger can't read—one his clerks can't read—while ! the third is so scrawled that he oan't read it himself. The "poetry" is, of course, sub ject to the draft of the owner. I RATHER EQUIVOCAL —Smithers, in speak ing of one of the etherials connected with the Biondway Theatre, says she is as beau- I tilul as spring, and almost as verdant. Who is Smithers driving at now ? TIME AND TlDE. —Onoe these agents wait ed for nobody, now nobody waits for them. , —The telegraph outstrips the one, while the iron horse er.ables us to dispense with the other. In riding on "the rail," always take a seat just in the rear of a fat old gentleman. In case of a collision, he breaks the hurt won derfully. Men, like, roosters, were made for proteo tors. I.et an accident happen on a railroad, and m lesa than a minute every woman in the cart will be hugging tbe breath out of some masculine or other. In time of dan ger, the sex will have no confidence in any thing but corduroy. The lemon-scented nincompoos of Brook, lyn give a grand ball week after next. Ma* agers, Squirt & Brothers, of the Dry Goods Clerks Association. Williamsburg offers a premium of 8500 for the best way of making bread, "so that it will last." The following recipe we have always found successful Buy sonr flour, and let those who are to ast it see a dirty-noae girl make it into rolls- A FOOL—Any body who buys new boots when about starting on a pleaanirtrip. c
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers