' "• — 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.
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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