Star and banner. (Gettysburg, Pa.) 1847-1864, August 20, 1847, Image 1

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    •Ht.) .l
VOL. IV/11.-434
[From the National Era.
List ye item, hard-handed toilers--
ye who suffer—ye who strive—
TO! has helm when your despoilets
Ohre ye lash, and task, and gyve:
Time has been hen each low murmur
Brought the scourge upon your flesh—
When each struggle fixed ye firmer
In piar tyrant's cunning mesh !
Ye were then the bond and 'vessel,
And your marten' will obeyed--
Though ye built his lordly castle,
And his arms and armor made:
Even the chains with which he galled you,
Your own fingers did create—
And the very power which thrilled you
From yourselves was delegate!
Thus ye autTemd--atill tinkncreing--
Still in doubt and darkness toiled--
fltillyoursweat and blood were flowing—
Still your tyrants wronged and spoiled!
For ye thought that ye were minions,
And that lords were nobler things—
And your faith was old Opinion's,
And the holy right of kings.
But ofle bold and firm endeavor
Broke your chains like threads of :As:—
And a shield was raised forever,
'Oainst the wrongar's fell attacks!
Now ye feel that gloricius lahori,
Stain not mans immortal soul :
Iran ploughs must rule the sabres,
Sledges must the crown control !
ye mime the shaft to heaven—
. Still ye force each mighty toil:
Still by you the waves are riven—
Still by you in rent the eoiL
BM ye kel that ye no longer
Are the slaves which once ye were—
Feel that ye are purer—atronger---
Feel that ye can wait—and bear!
It was a blessed summer dey,
The dowers bloomed—the air was mild,
The little birds poured forth their lay,
And every thing in'autture
In pleasant thought I wandered on
Beneath the deep wood's ample shade,
Till suddenly I came upon
Two children who had thither strayed.
Just at an asred birch tree's foot
A little boy and girl reclined ;
His hand - In her's she kindly put.
And then I saw the boy was blind.
The children knew not I was near,
A tree «mantled me from their view ;
But all they said I well could hear.
And t could are all they might do.
.Dear Mary,' said the poor blind boy,
"That little binl sings very long ; •
Bay. do you see him in his joy,
And is he pretty us his song !"
.Yee, Edward, yea," replied We maid,
“I see the bird on yonder tem..”
The Boor boy sighed, and gently said,
1 wish that I could :
The flowent, you say, are very fair,
And bright green leaves am on the trees,
And pretty birds are singing there—
How beautiful for one who sees.
Yet f the fragrant flowers eon smell,
Anti 1 ran feel the green leafs shade,
And lean hear the notes that swell
From those dear bird* that God has made
So. sister, God to ow is kind.
Ttniagli sight, alas ! lie has not given ;
Bet tell roe, are there any blind
Amorrg the children up in ',leaven !"
"No, dniansit Edward, there all see--
nut, why sok me • thing so odd !"
'eh, Mary, Ik's so good to ass,
1 thought I'd lilelo loisk'at God 1"
Ere long disease his hand had laid
On that dear boy so meek and mild:
His widowed mother wept, and prayed
That God would spare her sightlem child
He felt her warm team °Aber fare,
And rid, ..Oh never weep for me:
I'm going to a bright—bright place,
Where Mary says I God shall so 1
And you'll be there, dear Mary, too
Ent, mother, when you get up there,
Tell Edward, mother, that 'tis you
You knew 1 never saw you here."
He spoke no more, hut sweetly smiled
Until the Goal blow was given—
When God took up that poor blind child
And opened first his eyes in Heaved.
At a musical soiree last winter at the
splendid mansion of a thriving merchant.
and withal a man of taste and liberality.
we were struck with the magnificence
which mat our eye in every direction,—
The higly polished mahogany doors—the
ponderous and beautiful Egyptian marble
mantle-pieces—the rich 'Wilton and royal
carpets—higly polished chairs and divans
—elaborately carved and gilt cornices—pier
glasses—suspending girandoles—satin cur
tain.s--all after the fashion of Henry IV.
The drawing a rooms were filled with ele
gantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, and
the supper and refreehtnents presented a
scene of richness and luxury only to be
looked for front persons of over-grown for
"Bow long can this last t" we said to
.ourselreir, together with reflections which
pressed upon us as to the rapid manner we
-gain and get rid of fortunes in this city.—
Now like a rocket we ascend aud descend!
One day last week we took a ride in a
light toekaway over one of the delightful
'roads on Long Island, to catch a little air'
and an appetite for dinner, and stopped to
. look it an Italian cottage with green Veni
-tian piazetiaa and portions, in neat taste,
auttonfided by. a white palling, and filled
with shrubbery. -a Shoop, light homestead,
-with•some fields of *torn and potatoes, and
:a. patch of Wheat,in the distance. While
gazing on the simplicity;-theerfahleits, and
'comfort of the premises, we were roused
410y.„Iteatini -some one ,stpll ont.-o , Hallo,
trilistliil'i 'lnd Otlebking•discoveisd it to
Jr. our worthy host of '4'...........1% - ie• - . -- 11 1 ;
more a tweed jacket and'a manias hat.
'wCoitte, Slighttuul see My improvements."
, Asia he.
1 7 011 st go down to town to dinner-it
411 r be late."
, '-' 4 ! 0 you *Set. My dinner is just
,1:' , 'toil jolt shall dine with iced. re
ad. He,
' T, y . take the gentleman's horse."
:' l l ,l %Having. erdoyed his hospitality while
in splendor, I could not refuse his
.x.' and salt under adverse circumstances
, I iliglifed iryd walked into the pe,rlor.
r it .
,chance ! A plainly furnished cot
,' spn-blittomed chairs, wooden man
piesits Ind plated candlesticks, mahog
: • filmed looking-glass, an eight-day
Atkin the corner, and a map or two on
th Willa. Then the dinner table—how
plain I White dell plates, very plain
then-handled knives and forks, tumblers
sand wine-glasses blown at the New Jersey 1
sitiatrworks, and salt-cellars dear at six-1
pence. The dinner was plant.but good—
the vegetables fresh—the bread home-baked
—and we were.waited upon by a strapping
girl with a significant. squint. The host
ess of the late princely mansion looked
fresh and ruddy, in a cross-barred muslin
dress and bobinett cap. She was cheer
fulland happy. Over a glees of Madeira
—the remnant of better days—we talked
of numerous subjects, and philosophised
with all possible delicacy 'upon the admi
rable manner they bore the change in their
condition. The lady stared, and the host,
rolling out a volume of smoke from a Prin
cipe cigar, exclaimed with surprise—
Wy, my dear fellow, did you suppose
I was broke—smashed—gone over the
darn—eh Oh !no ! no! This change
you'etee is not owing to any reverse of for
tune—my business is as prosperous as ev
er- I did not wait tillbankruptcy overtook
me; but coasidering our children. our fu
ture prosperity, and the obligation due to
society and good example, we agreed to
spend $1,500 per annum in the contented
manner you see us. instead of the 15,000
in the giddy mazes of fashion. I ride to
to town to attend to my business—work
in any garden—have plain and substantial
cheer—bake my own bread—make my
own butter—lay my own eggs, and have a
glass of wine for an old friend:"
Here was not only a change, but an im
provement—a cheap augmentation of hap
piness—a true an :sensible economy—
prontising rich results, and worthy of im
itation.—M. M. Noah.
(From the Saturday Rambler
More than 11.11f , ti century ago. a Scotch
man, named David, made his appearance
and settled in the north end of lioston.—
From what part of the land of cakes he
ca me, what was his cognomen, or how or
where he had lived previously, it is not
our present purpose to inquire: Let it
suffice that he was a man. His features
were coarse and harsh, after the most ap
proved Lowland Scoieh pattern ; and, in
figure, he was tall, gaunt, broad-shoulder
ed, and big-boned. Immediately on his
arrival, he addicted himself unremittingly
ti the hardest - kind of manual labor,. and
soon gained the reputation of the best
drain-delver and well-Tinker in the city.
Rough was he in speech, uncouth was he
in dialect ; caustic and severe was his lan
guage, niggardly were his habits; far
all of which causes he was pretty general
ly disliked by his neighbots during his
lifetime. Ile was never known to pur-
chase aught for himself beyond the bare
necessaries of life. On his family he en
joined constant industry and frugality,—
stiginatizCil the poor, in mass, as lazy,
worthless, vagabonds t and was never seen
to give any of them a crust or a penny.—
For all that, his untiring industry and scrup
ulous honesty were qualities which it was
impossible not to respect.
In the begining he had bought a small
tenfoot tenement, of two rooms, and in it
he lived till the Clay of Kis death. 'Yet he
grew rich. With his savings, and ite ac
cumulated interest thereof, he bought ma
ny small buildings, calculated for atiodes
of the poor. lie did not, however, grow
indolent, or vain, or proud, as he grew
rich; prosperity wrought no change •in
that iron cld man. Hot or cold, wet or
dry, David might daily be . found at the
bottom of some excavation, hare legged,
with his coat off, and the sweat streaming
front his brow. Very rigorous he was
in exacting punctual payment of his rents,
scolding abominably at the least delay ;
and, yet David was never known to dis
tress a widow or a siek person who had
shown himself willing to work when
well. To drunken, idle, or extravagant
tenants, he was inexorable as fate ; and
thereby he acquired the reputation of an
insatiaable, grasping, miserly tyrant and
oppressor ; indeed, of a kind of:Caledoni
It wasnot uncommon in David's neigh.
borhood, especially among his tenants, for
persona in distress to find relief at their
door when they least expected it, in the
shape of a cord of wood, a barrel of flour,
a parr of blankets, or the like; but no one
knew the source whence these bounties
flowed. It was generally supposed that
vid's cruelty had stirred the compassion
of benevolent persons, who cared not to
to have their good deeds known of men ;
or, it might be that the donors . were wast
ing pains and money in vain attempts to
shame the Scot out of his hard humor.—
How much did that common liar, Madam
Common Report, wrong the old Scotch
man !
But it was not to be denied that David
viii could be charitable, though those
who admitted the fact qualified it by ad
ding that it was only in his own war).-
when it coot_ him nothing. No one was
more ready to lift a fallen horse, or to watch
with the sick, or treat them more tender
ly than he did—all without intermitting
his daily toil. Once ho was called to sit
with .a child that had the croup. On the
the third evening, the doctor called, and
prescribed a draught, to be taken at a pre
scribed hour without fail, or the infant,
would inevitably die. H, then retired,
and• weary David, after reiterated iduioni-
Akins to die, nerve to , awaken him in time
.to adminiiter the potion, settled himeelf in
an arm chair by the bedside, and allowed
sleep to prevail. over him..
While bp alumbeead, Ane tatiody /ARi
pon, in excellent neighbor and thorough
gossip,. lu►ppehed in,. unfortunately ; and
torthwith a constiltation took place , between
the nurse and. her over thesick bed. The
worthy old ladies>rooniidered the cane
.and the.phases of the , disease, tasted and
smelt the presdripticin, antlikill at, the
conclusion, nun.. 'con., [David baler's*.
leep,] that the physic did not look whole
some, and that it Wite best not to adminis
ter it.
It was near morning when the Scotch
man awoke. The child was dead
. long
before, and the nurse had been afraid to
awaken him. Ile rubbed his oyes, and
asked at what hour the babe had departed.
At two o'clock. she replied. The doie
was to have have been given at twelve.—
Ile look and saw it on the mantel. Frow
nings.he asked her why she had not obey
ed his and the doctOr's commands.
She did not know;,she meant no harm.
At any rate, two head's were better than
one, if one was a doctor's. Neighbor Lolli
pose had just dropped in, and tasted the
phial, and it tasted a kind of curious, so
they had thought it best for the child
not to take it.
You thought !" cried David, fearfully
incensed. "You b--litind so you
and that mild faggot have murdered the
bairn !"
With that, he smote the woman with
his stick- more than once. She sued him
for it, and obtained one cent damages.—
Sure that was a righteous verdict; if ever
man was justifiable in inflicting a most un
merciful drubbing, surely David was.
One day, a poor old woman, at whose
door a load of woodhad just been dropped
by some means discovered that David
was the Good Samaritan, and inferred,
justly, ioo,'that he was the unknown ben
efactor of the poor of the North End.—
She ran to his house with all the speed
gratitude could inspire, cast herself, sob
bing aloud, at his feet, and, with uplifted
hands, exclaimed—
"0, Mr. W-I you! you, whom
every body calls a miser ! you! But the
poor widow knows of your goodness ; and
all the neighborhood shall know it, too."
"Hauld yore tongue, ye daft jade," said
the immoveable old man. "Gang yore
way home, and dines cleave nit wi'
e vere
elishmaelavers; and mind, ye dinna say
nnething to nacbody. hae a' the puir
widows in toon about me; gin yere nay
the wiser."
Thus lived that grim old man, e;releas
of the world's ways and the world's opin
ions ; reckless of the sympathies and
amenities of life; dispensing good in se
cret, in his humble, but useful and honora
ble career; like the starless night, which,
though gloomy to the eye, sends fresh life
to-the drooping flowers, and new vigor to
man and beast. And so he died, neither
asking or receiving sympathy from any
but his own children. his fortune has
long been distributed or dissipated, and
there is none left to mourn for rough, hon
est Davy l not one. His daugter had his
remains conveyed to - Mouid'Auburn, and
erected a stone to his memory, which,
could he have foreseen, he would have
rebuked on his.. death-bed, as a needler,s
and extravagant expense. But, slept he
withoura-stone, Ood would, notwithstand
ing. know where to find him, when the
last trump shall sound the finalawakening.
When I was a young shaver, having lived
in the world some twenty }•ears or so, I
was engaged as a sort of supeinumary
clerk in the house of Wilson and Brown
at Calcutta; and having no one else who
could be so easily spared, they determined
to despatch me on a business negotiation
to one of the native princes, about eight
hundred miles up the country. I travell
ed with a party of the —dragoons, com
manded by a Capt. Slingsby, a man about
five years older than myself, and as good
a fellow as ever lived. Well, some how
or ofher he took a great fancy to me, and
nothing would do but that I should accom
pany him in all his sporting expilditions—
for I Bilotti tell you that he was a thorough
sportsman—and I believe, entertained
some strange notion that he should be able
to make one of ine. One unfortunate mor
ning, he came into my tent, and woke me
out of a sound sleep which I had fallen in
to, after being kept ,awake half the night
by the most diabolical howls and screams
that ever were heard out of Bedlam, ex
pecting every minute to see some of their
p2rformers stem in to sup, not...with, but
upon me.
" Come, Frampton, wake up, man,"
cried Slingsby, "here's glorious news."
" 1" said I--"have they found
another !lumberer aleamong the baggage?"
"Ale nonsense," was the reply. "A
ehikkaree (native hunter) has just come
into camp to say, that a' young bullock
was carried' off yesterday, and is lying
half eaten in the jungle about a mile from
this place ; so at last, my boy, I shall have
the pleasure of introducing you to a real
live tiger."
"Thank ye," said I, "you're very kind,
but if at all inconvenient to you this morn
ing, you can put it off another day will
do quite as well for me—l'm not in the
last hurry."
It was of no use, however.; all'l got for
my pains was a poke - in the ribs, and an in
t junction to lose no-time in getting ready.
Before we had done breakfast, the great
man of the neighborhood, Rajah some
bodY or other, made his appearance on his
elephant attended by a train of townies,
who, were to undertobe the agreeable duty
of beating. Not being considered fit to
take care of myselfo—e melancholy' fact of
which I was too conscious—it was decreed
that Blingsby, and. I should occupy the
same howdah. Accordingly at the time
appointed, we mounted our elephant t and
having a formidable array of guns handed
pp to us,, we started.
Ai my 'commie% and indeed every
one else concerned in the matter, evidently
considered' it completely as a party .of the
utmost pleasure, and seemed to be prepa-
sad to enjoy themeelves, I endeavored to
persuade myself that I did so.tito ; and,
consoled by the refieetion that, if the tiger
bad positively'etilen half *bullock• putter
day afternoon, it niitild never be worth his
-while to- settle our elephant, and run the
risk'of beingvh4, for the sake-Of devour,
int me, I hilt hither bold than otheintise.
After proceeding for soraedistantle through
the jungle, ind rousing, as it 'appeared' to
me, every beast that had come out of Nn
, Ws Ark; except a tiger, our elephant, who
had hitherto , conducted himself in a very
'quiet and gentlemanly manner, suddenly
raised his - trunk, and-trumpeted several
times,—a sure sign, as the mahout inform
ed us, that a tiger was somewhat close at
"Now, Fratnpton," cried my compan
ion, cocking his double-barrel, "look out !"
"For squalls," returned I, finishing the
sentence for him. "Pray, is there any
particular part they like to be shot int
whereabouts shall aim f"
. . _ _
• "Wherever yort can," replied Singsbly.
"be ready, there he is, by Jupiter," and as
he spoke, the long grass • 'about a hundred
yards in front of us was gently agitated,
and I caught a glimpse of what appeared &
yellow and black streak moving swiftly
away in an opposite direetion—"Tally
ho !" shouted Slingsby, saluting the tiger
with both barrels. An angry roar proved
that the shot had taken effeet, and in anoth
er moment, a large tirr, lashing his side
with his tail, and his eyes glaring with
rage. cattle bounding toward, us.
"Nov what's to be done t" exclaimed
I—"if you had but let him 'alone, he was
going away us quietly as prosible."
Slingsby's reply was a smile, and Nei*.
ing another gun he fired again. On re-
ceiving this shot this tiger stopped for a
moment, and then, with a tremendous
bound, sprang towards us, alighting at the
foot of a small tree not a yard from the el
ephant's head.
"That last shot crippled him," said my
companion, "or we should have had the
pleasure of his nearer acquaintance—now
for the coup do grace, fire away!" and as
he spoke he leaned forward to take delib
erate aim, when suddenly the front of the
howdah gave way, and tb my horror,
Slingsby was precipitated .over the ele
phant's head, into, as it seemed to me, the
very jaws of the tiger. A fierce growl,
and a suppressgd cry of-agony:proved that
the monster had seized his prey, and I had
completely given my friend up for lost,
when the elephant, although - greatly alarm
ed, being urged on by the mahout, took a'
step forward and twisting Ids , trunk round
the top of the Young tree, bent it down a
cross the loins of the tiger, thus forcing the
tortured animal to quit his hold, and afford
ing Slingdby an opportunity of crawling
beyond the reach of its teeth and claws.—
, Forgetting my own fears bl i the imminence
of my friend's danger, I only waited till I
could get a shot at the tiger Without running
the risk of hurting Slingsby, and then fired
both barrels at its head, and was lucky e
nough to wound it-mortally. The other
sportsmen coming up at this moment, the
brute teceived his quietus, but poor Slings..
by's arm was broken where the tiger had
seized it with big teeth, and his chest was
severely laceratedby its claws, nor did he
entirely recover the shock for many months.
And this was my first introduction tort roy
al tiger, Sir. I saw many of them after
wards; during the time -I -spent in India,
but 1. :an't spy I ever had much liking for
their society—timplk!"
A CAPITAL JOKR.—Th t eirti Chancel
lor of Ireland; having nand appointimrn
to visit the Dublin Insane Assylum, re
pared thither in the absence of the chief
manager, and was admitted by one oldie
keepers, who was waiting to receive a
patient answering the appearance of Sir
Edward. He appeared to be very talka
lives, but the attendants humored him and
answered all his questions. He asked if
the surgeon General had arrived, and the
keeper answered hint that ho had not yet
come, but that he would be there immedi
"Well," . said he, "I will inspect some of
the rooms•tantil4m.arrives.”—.
"Oh, no," said the keeper, "we could not
permit that at all."
"Then I will walk for a while in the gar
den," said his lordship, "whit I am waiting
for him."
"We cannot let you go there either, sir."
"What !" said he, "don't you know that
I am the Lord Chancellor t"
"Sir," said the keeper, "we have four
more Lord Chancellors here already."
He got in a great fury and they were be
ginning to think of the strait waistcoat for
when, fortunately, the Surgeon Gen
eral arrived.
"Hie the chancellor arrived yet ?" asked
'The man burst out laughing at-him, and
said. "Yes, sir, we have him safe; but he
is far the moat outrageous patient we have."
Mr. O'Connell told this anecdote in
Dublin, at a public meeting.
Sonic days ago a story went the rounds
touching a man, who, having presented
himself in - his shirt sleeves at the American
Museum, New York, received the loan of
a coat from Mr. Barnum, and after viewing
the curiosities, sloped with the garment,
thus obtaining a eight of the elephant and
a splendid swallow tail for twenty-five
cents, This reminds us of an affair that
occurred in 1840; on board the old Colum
bus, when she lay at Charleston Navy
Yard. One day a long green Vermonter
straggled on board the frigate ' and examin
ed every thing on deck with curious ey es.
The officer of the watch, from the bearing
and neatness of his uniform, attracted the
Yankee'a :notice.
"(dot a pron.) , good Place bere—heyl"
he inquired.
The officer assented. •
"What wa ges do you getl"
"One hun dred
and twenty-five dollars a
montii, air."
'"One hundred and tw'entrirret dollars.;
All teir ourself!. Shoh!"
se"` sir."
"Wall I wonder if 1 couldi'l get some
thing to do here my self?"
"Oh ! yes; you'd make a pretty good
inidshipman.". - -'
"Well, what ' s midshipmaa!a wages 'tor
a green hand I"
"Forty dollars a Month, only."
"Only forty dollars ! Jeruadem ! wby
I was goieto hire out for ten.' But where
en Ihe made a midshipman', on t Say
qutek." - •
"Down below sir, in the steer.
soon as I'4 t relieved I'll see 'to it. "•
Down went the quizzer and the quizzed.
A bevy of midshipmen.required no
profiapting to perpetrate a piece of Mis
chief. A spurious warrant was soon made
out, and the green-horn equipped inn splen
did uniform, including an elegant chapeau
and costly sword, by a joint contribution
of the mess. Thus furnished, he was di
rected to present himself to Commodore
S. in the cabin, and report ready for duty.
Ito was told that the Commodore might
be pretty gruff—"it was a way he had,"
but ho should not mind it. The steerage
being full, the new midshipman wag• to de
mond quarters in the Commodore's eabin
infan t , he was ordered to take poisession
of a certain stateroom.-- The CoinmO
dore's black looks and angry - words were
'to be regarded as nothing—he had no right
to use either. Thus uposted up,"- the vici
tim presented himself to the Commodore
..014 hoes, how 1"
The Commodore 'stared. lie hadcome
across a rare anis. "Take a mutt, sir,"
"I kin help myself, old feller ; I gineral
ly do," was the reply of the Vermonter,
as he flung himself into one seat and cross
ed his fts upon another.
"You are one of the new midshipmen,
I suppose,'•' remarked the Commodore;
who, from the first, suspected something.
aint nothin' chic."
"Shall I trouble you foricinr warrant
oid boy. "
The Commodore looked at the warrant,
and then at the visiter.
"Who gave you this ?" •
"The fellers tip stairs, and Pnweidy
for duty."
That's enough. Now you can go." •
"Not as you knows on, Squire. The
cellifFs chock full—and I aint a goin' out
of this 'ere in a hurry—l tell you now.—
Oh, you needn't rare up, old feller. I see
what's the matter—You're a leetle cracked
up here!" and the brilliant youth touched
his forehead "with his forefinger. "I am
going into this chamber to have a right good
snooze, boots and all, by gravy !"
As he was proceeding' to execute this
menace, the Commodore took hiin by the
arm and led him to the gangway. Point
ing to the sentinel, he remarked mildly,
"You see that man with-i =maxi...saw ,
if you don't clear out diredtly, and leave
the ship and yard, never to show your fate
here again, I'll order him to shoot you !"
The Yankee broke—and in two'seconds
his blue coat-tail was seen floating in his
rear, as he dashed out of the yard with the
speed of a flying jackass.
Ina minute afterwards, hen dozen ter
rified midshipmen rushed on deck, and
asked for liberty to goon - there. - -
"Young gentlemen," said the COMITY&
dore,'"l grant no liberty to-day."
Sit. faces felt "a feet," and six young jo
keri returned to their mess-room as Mel
ancholy as mutes at an alderman's funeral.
They never saw or heard anything of the
Yankee afteiward, nor the uniform either !
[Boston Tinter.
•"I've known some mean men in my
time. There was Deacon Overreach, now ;
.he.wasi roman he always carried e heti in
his gig-box when he tnivelleil to pick up
the oats his horse wasted in the manger,
and lay an-egg--for -his breakfast in the
morning. And there was'lltigo Himmel
man, who' madehis wile dig potatoes to
pay for the_marriage license. Lawyer,"
he continued, addressing himself toßev-,
clay, "I must tell you that story of Hugo,
for it's not a bad one; and good stories,
like potatoes, sin' as plenty as they was
when I was a boy. Hugo is a neighbor of
mine, though considerable older than I be;
and a mean neighbor he is, too. Well.
when he was going to get married to Gret
chen Kelp, he goes down to Parson Rogers
at. Digby, to get a „license."
"Parson," says he, "what's the price of
a license ?"
"Six dollars , " says he.
"Six dollars," says Hugo. ..That's a
dreadful eight of money! Couldn't you
take less ?"
"No," says he. "That's what the
cost me to thesecretary's Once atHalifax.
"Well, how much do you ax for..publish
ing in church, then?" .. •
"Nothing," says the parson. -
"Well,' says Hugo, "that's so cheap I
OW% itipect you to give no cflange back.
I Will( I'll be published. How long does
it-take ?"
"Three Sundays."
"Three Sundays !" says Hugo. "Well,
that's a long time, too. But three Sundays
only make a fortnight, after all ; two for
the covers and one for the inside like; and
six dollars is a great sum of money for a
poor man to throw away. I must wait.'
So off he went jogging towards home,
and a looking about as mean as a new
sheared sheep when all at once a bright,
thought came into his bead, and back 6
went as fast as his horse could carry him.
aParson," says he, “I've changed. my
mind. Here's the six dollars. I'll tie the
knot to-night with my tongue that I can't
with my teeth."
"Why, whit in astute kr the meaningef
all this r says the parson.
"Why," says Hugo, "rve been cipher
ing it out in my hftd, and it's cheaper than
publishing bands idler all. You see, air,
it's potato-digging time- ' and if I wait to be
called in church, her la ther will hare' her
work for nothing; kid as handsaw:scarce.
and wages high, if I many her to-night
she can begin to dig our It4rn to-morrow ;
and that will pay for the license, and just
seven shillings over;'for there ain't a man
in all Clements that tan dig and carry as
many busliels as Gretchen can. And be
sides, fresh Wiles, like fresh seer/into, work
like smoke•at fitit; but they . get savvy and
lazy after a whilef.",-4/4/1.11; a Colony, by
Sant Mick.
The above—speaking of licenses—zre
minds us of an anecdote not long since re
lated by one who was **them to see ;" and
though' we cannot hope to give any idea
upon paper of the inimitable **cracker"
drawl with which our fair, friend amused
un.vithe story itself is so fair an example
of an eye to business, thit we will do our
best to recall it for our readers;
It was sometime in the summer of 1845,
that Mrs. Augusta, Georgia,
journied into the "up country" on a visit
to a sister who was the wife of a planter
there residing. Mr. Colbert, the brother
in-law, was also a justice of the peace;
and Alta. J was not a little amused
by his recital of the queer cases that were
daily brought before him. It so happened,
that one bright, sunny afternoon, Mr. C.
had ridden over to a neighboring plantation
—and not many minutes after a tall, lung
looking "Other"' was seen approaching
upon an equally scraggy looking steed.
ne,wVf Willoint.hat or coat, but did not
seem-stall aware of his deficiency of cos
tume; for, hitching up his striped cotton
"whisperables" with one band, and grasp
ing tightly the collar of his homespun shirt
with the other, he made directly to the pi
azza, where sat the ladies engaged with
"is the Square to hum?" p was the ,firsi
‘golo is not," rep lied
Mrs. Colbert, not
a little amused at the singular apparition.
"Sorry for that," said the cracker, (who,
by the way, had rather a good tempered
looking face, and seemed about twenty-sev
en, or thereabouts,) "must see the Square,"
continued he, as hammed carelessly against
a pillar.
"C, lie of any assistance to you,"
as • ' rs. C., who was , net unused, inTier
heaband'sabsence, to deal out 'craps of the
la* as 'Squire, pro •ttn.
"Guesernot, mann. I want the Square
himself. I want ,to , git license."
"A license V "said the lady in amazement;
"pray Whitt do you tor ?"
"To git miii7ed t. ", drawled the cracker,
in the take-your:min-tithe of a torte
, peculiar to that bless.
A fair candidate 'for the yoke, thought
Mrs. C., as she'kiked at the six-feet-three
specimen of human nature that - so boldly
declared his delerritination to take it upon
himself. "And who are you going to mar
ry ?"
"One 'them gale qp yonder," said the
cracker; pointing stgoi fi cantly over the le ft
shoulder;, and then '
at 'the suggestion of the
lady, down sat the bridegroom to await the
arrival-et 4birSquite.-- : -The not inconsid
erable interval
~wltich elaPsed before the
'gentleman's return, being employed in talk
ing to his steed, which bore the romantic
name of , .Peachsti roe and Thunder ;"- r • and
counting a quantity of specie, which he
took frOm his pocket.
Mr. colhert pt,leagth return/4, and, the
cracker left the house not a little delighted
at the possession of a scrip, of . papor which
entitled hint ccitioilt silairiFiony on , his
own aceotiitt
A week or two after,,l6. - o.met,his new
acquaintance, 'with a tali, strapping bola
walking beaide him; ' ' ; whose , blue cambric
bonnet, minded with elides of plesteboartl,
was decorated with a white veil of t?feotton
lace, which lay like a huge cloutlon its
"This is your wife, I pre purn‘ e," said
Mr. C.,lookingreeiouslY at the phy dam
"No, that's our Sal," answered the
cracker, crumily'l hain't got ,no Wife."
Anditb it proved. Riding hick; it his
utmost speed; With the license carefully
guarded. the biideguicanarrlved about sun
set at the house of his lady love, wheie
their friends were already assembled to 8S•
sist in the ceremony. Many h a d been the
wonders at his , long delay, and at last one
of the groomsmen declaied he-was a shab
by fellow, and "didn't desert* . such a gall
no how." To this the bride aisehted;
whereupon thegromusman became'bolder,
urged his claim to her hend, and strange
to say, he wad not denied: So dui matter
was settled, and out hero arrived' to find
his hopes thus cruelly destroyed.
But ."he was a man of sense." He
deigned - trot ltrfitter tr tirproseh - z....her did
not rave of falsehood and treachery, &Ater
or poison, though the deceiver was his
most intimate friend. "Welt then." said
he, "sense yoteie got Loci, you might as
well have the license too—'twill;sebe you
and the Square trouble.' GI? 'tis a dollar
and it's yours:
The bargain was'concluded. The wed
ping went on with a degree of spirit tieldom
known in more civilized commnitiest oar
hero danced with the bride, An the beat
possible humot, and just before the assem
bly was dispersed took the newly made
husband aside to tell him "he was done out
of half a dollar. I only gin the Square fif
ty cents for that ere "license," said he'; and
strode away with a chucklei thinkiag no
doubt he had the best of the bargainsfier all.
A piece of statuary has just been exhib
ited in London which slitows What • mira
cles art can do. The artist to whom the
merit of this curious affair belongs, is na
med Nandi° Monti. The Spectator
describes this wonderful piece of.seulpture
as follows : ,*
"The effigy of iveeiltitl Veinal tending
the everlettiogfiame, is curiosity`in weutP.
featof art. The figure is• the size
of life, it is 'clothed in t robe.- and a veil
_Over the head enyelopes the face.
shoulders. and•Oart of tho,annel the veil
ll'transpergril Not merely do you dis
cern the-Covered foruis where they actual
l•y' aerial dut and touch the veil, but you
think yOu can see through the veil under
neath the full and delipately finished fea
tures of a most beautiful face you can
detect the retreating curves of the profile,
and the +Swelling forms of the lips, with a
space- between the softly but crisply round
flesh and the covering gauze. You arc
Workingni the transparency of the mar
ble, with cunning skill, the sculptor has so
arranged the thinitessfand thickness of this
material, that the refracted light suggests
the forms beneath, which are not barved.
The artist has chiseled the outward form
of the veil, and in doingso has pasnted the
veiled face in the light and shade glancing
through the marble. lie calls it "uno
scnerzo," and it is so ; but it is much more
--it is a very beautiful figure."
Very few, even mechanics, are aware how
much machinery there is in their own bod
ies.- Nat only are there hinges and joints
in the bones but there are valves in the
veins, a forcing pump iu the heart and oth
er curiosities, One of the muscles of the
eye - forms a real pulley. The bones which
support the body are mado precisely in
that form, which has been calculated by
mathematicians, to be strong for pillars and
supporting columns; that of hollow cylin
ders. This form combines the greatest
strength. Of this form are the quills of
birds' wings, where these requisites are
11CeeSein V.
The Christian Reflector publishes an
interesting loiter from Mrs. looser, lsle
"Ferry Fonszerzu," of which we giib
on extract
"Twenty weeks Irma the day on which
we went aboard, we anchored of Amherst";
and the next Monday morning were low,-
er,ed into a Burmese boat, to proceed up
to Maulmain. I was most agreeably dis
appointed by my first view of the land et"
palms and mosquitoes. Our boat pas
very much like a long watering-trengh,
whittled to a point at each end, and we
were all nestled like a parcel of caged fowls,
under a low bamboo cover, from which it
was not easy to look out. Hut the shore
alongside of which we were pushed up
stream by the might of muscle, was bril.
-tient with its unpiimed luxuriance of-ver—
dure, and birds, and flowers.
"Here some long tree drooped it*
long trailers to the water, there the white
rice bird, or a gayer stranger, with cham
elcon neck and crimson wing, - coquetted.-
with its neighbor, and the wealth of green
bending below; and then followed !Os
blossoms of new shapes and hue 4 and
bearing new names, some in clusters, and
some in long amber wreaths, stained here
and there with lemon and vermillion, and
all bearing that air of slumbrous richness
which I believe is a characteristic of the
herst Christians, who seemed as wild with
joy as the birds themselves, [not that they
were particularly birdlike in any other
respect,) and there was laughing and chat
ering enough to make any heart merry.—
The first, being a universal language, I hail
no .difficulty in understanding; but the
latter sounded to me even more outland
iali than their gaudy patsoea, bare brawny
shoulders and turbaned heads, appeared to
the eye,
"To my taste. Mnulmain is a beautiful
place, with its curious, weather-stained
houses, set down in spacious compounds,
which are hedged round by the bamboo,
and filled with trophie fruit trees. To my
taste, hay, because tastes differ widely; and
mine, baying been formed on the'simple
modelmf American country life, would not
be diff i cult toplease. I have been told,
however, by English ladies, that there
were. few towns in the East so entirely
unexceptionable as a residence in every
respect. For Rangoon, whither we came
a little more than a week since, I cannot
say so much. Indeed, the two places aro
so utterly unlike as to preclude any attempt
at comparison. .Maulmein has sprung
uP within the last fifteen years, and hat
- all the sweet freshness of its youth about
itj but Rangoon is an old dilapidated town
with no, specimens of architectural splon
dor,Tor roniance to spread 3 single feather
by. crumbling in its narrow streets, but,
still, more than half in ruins.
. "The Government buildings are desert
ed, some of the fine tanks that it used to
boast filled with rubbish, the moat dry, the
gates taken away, and the stockade in most
p,arts laid flat for street pavements. And
surf, pavetnents. Corduroy roads are no
thing to them. This desolation is occa
sioned by the last king's flaying made au
attempt to remove the town front the riv
er's edge, and leave the ground to money
making foreigners—Greeks and Arineui
ans, Musselmen, Jews, and a few English
and Chinese. There are two Englishmen,
ship captains, residing there now. Our
house ("Green Turban's Den," as we have
named it, since it is nearer that than a
lodge, or a hall, or a cartage) is on a Moor
man street—an upper story, with a Jew's
Shop beneath it. It looks a little like civ
ilization to see the children in their wide
trousers, usually of crimson cotton, and
their white close-fitting robes above, trudg
ing oil to school, with their satchels on
their shoulders, even though we know that
that the extent of their learning is probably
only to jabber the Koran; but it mars the
picture some to watch from day to day and
find no 'girls among them.
"The Burnese women go into the street
as openly as the men, but the wife
of the true Musaelman never Meld the
fresh air upon her cheek. Hereupon, I
should like to propound a question to pity-
Siehins, but I forbear. Money is a Moor
man's god, as the Jew; and trade, trade,
trade, I think, must be the burden of his
prayers to Allah. It is very certain that
not a miser of them in this neighborhood
neglects his prayers ; for, such a din as
they make about our ears of an evening
would get them a berth for the night in a
Boston watch-bouse. The old Abraliamito
below is far the quietest; but even his hur
ried voice, laden with Hebrew accents, •
sometimes makes its way up through the
fluor. As I write,'l glance down into the
street, and see u Burman priest, distiegnislis
able by the shaven head, and dirty yellow
pasto,hugg,ing the vessel in which he receives
alms to his breast, and glancing first at one
side of the street and then the other, it ark._
pears to me, a little anxiously. No ne
seems inclined to pay him any attention,
and I am afraid the poor fellow will get no
breakfast, nukes he turns some corner
where he will hind more Boodhism.
"From my window I can see the tips of
several pagados; and, through the openings
of a bamboo roof opposite, 1 catch glimpses
of a cross crowning a Roinish elturch.-=.
The Catholics can do the Protestant mis
sionaries hut little mischief here now, as
the alarm of poor 'Father Bruno,' at an in
vasion which he appears to consider a ri
sing up of the arch fiend himself, clearly
eeinces. The new king is a rigid 40041.
hist, and all foreign religions are on a par
in his eyes. Boodhisin never was more
popular throughout the empire than now.
The king's brother, who is prime minister
and heir apparent, pounds and cooks the
rice for the priests with his own hands;
and, when he has occasion to impose a Ono
upon a Musselman, or any other fonrigner.
instead of receiving the money hiMlo4:he
kindly advises the poor wretch to Jeeseet
it to the priests, and so buy merit GsV both;
one profiting by the gilt the OW t . •y the
suggestion. All kluaseintandass boo
thrown into consternation of Palsi !Of di.
report that his most Doodhistiell tyr
in an extreme fit of piety, had obliged dine
of their brethren to eat pork . '
' ' i ."T
4 41