The Columbia spy and Lancaster and York County record. (Columbia, Pa.) 184?-1848, October 02, 1847, Image 1

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"aP se tt
Cola m b
NEW SERIES, VOL. I, No. 14.]
Printing Office—F ron t Street, opposite Barr's Hotel
Publicatiou Office—Locust Street, opposite the F. 0
TERMB. —The COLUMBIA Sri/ to published every
Sattirdny morning nt the low price of ONE DOLLAR A
YEAR IN ADVANCE, nr one dollar and fifty cents, if
not paid within one month of the time of subscribing.
Single copies. THREE CENTS.
Tansts or ADVERTIRI Na—Advertisements not exceed
ing a square three times for Si. and 25 cents for each
additional Insertion. Those of a greater length in pro
portion. cC-A liberal discount made to yearly adver
Jon PRINTINO Snell ns
Cards. Labels, Pamphlets, Blanks of every description
Circulars, etc. etc., executed with ricatnessanddesporch
and on reasonabl eternts.
CJ. TYNDALE, No. 97, South Second
Street, Philadelphia, wishes to inform
his friends and the public generally, that he
still continues to manufacture and sell the gen.
uine Air-Tight Stove, with the latest improve
After many years experience in the manu
facture of these Stoves, lie is now enabled to
offer to his customers the Air-Tight Stoves
with ovens, suitable fur dining rooms or nur
He has also the Air-Tight Stove, on the Ra
diator plan, which makes a splendid and
economical parlor Stove, to which he would
call the particular attention of those who want
an elegant and useful article for their parlors.
Also, a large assortment of Coal, Parlor and
Cooking Stoves. All of which he will sell at
the lowest Cash prices. The public would do
well to call before purchasing elsewhere.
tCrMr. T. would Caution the public against
Air-Tight Stoves,made by most Stove makers,
as they do not answer the purpose intended.
Columbia, Sept. 18th, 1847-2 in.
B. E. 11100 RE
No. 70 South Third Street, nearly opposite the
Exchange, Philadelphia,
T . ) ESPECTFULLY announce to their friends
Et, and the public that they arc constantly pre
pared to make to order. of the finest and best ma•
terials. and at nn,derate prices, every article of
Fashionnnle Clothing_ constituting a Genilinan's
Wardrehr., for which their complete stock of choice
and carefully selected Cllts. Cussitneres, Vestings
&c., of the latest and inset desirable patterns, are
particularly designed.
Their own practical knowledge of the business
and a personal attention to every garment, etin'iles
;hem to give entire satisfaction, and to both old and
new customers ;hey respectlully tender nu invitation
to give them a call.
Having been for years connected with some of
the best and moat fashionable establishments !n this
country, employing noise but first rate work inen.
nod being in the receipt of the latest fashions, and
best styles of goods, they are fully prepared to ac
commodate customers in the best manner.
Philadelphia. August Id. 1847.—Gin
37 North Wharves, below Race St.,
OFFER for sale at the laciest prices, all the arti
cies of the Oil Trade. Their stock is varied
and extensive, and they feel confident of Loving
satisfaction to those who call. They have now on
Pure Sperm Oil.
White Winter and Fall Oils of different qualities.
Solar Oil.
Winter-pressed Lard Oil.
Winter Elephant and Whale Oils.
Refined Racked and Common Whale Od.
Tanners' Oils. Sperm Candles. Guano &c., &c.
Philadelphia. Almost 11 1847.-2 m.
N. R.—All g.,odu delivered in first rate order.
No. .9.96, Market Street, Philadelphia.
riT.OT LUNG —A necessary and useful a•tiele ;
it well becomes every one who buy- it, before
purchasing to look and se•o where it can be bought
cheapest. I am sati•fied (and reader, you will
be) if you favor true wish a c.,11 and (mak over my
stuck of good. you will nut only buy yourself but
tell your friends where
can be had and they will do the same. If you
come to the Globe Hall of Fashion and do not
find goods twenty per cent cheaper than at any store
in the city I think you will say General Taylor
never whipped the Mexicans I think he never
done anything else.
co - A full stook of clothing suited for the
country trade, which merchants and others are
particularly invited to examine.
No. 296, Market St., 3rd door below Ninth.
Philadelphia, August 28, 1847.-3 m.
Agency of the Canton
The undersigned being the authorized
I.;;.R .. 4lAgents for the sale of the SUPERIOR
Cxa ,e,,TEAS, imported by the Canton Tea
Company, of the City of New Yok, invite a
trial of their Green and Black Teas, embrac
ing the best selections this side of China.
Every Package Warrented.
J. D. & J. WRIGHT.
Columbia, April 7, 1847.—tf
Agency of the
r,:r , N„ THE SI.7I3CRIBER keep+ constantly
r,1,40n hand an assortment of Fresh Teas, 4'l-
14.; ported by the Pekin Tea Company. any
Teas sold by me that does not give entire satis
faction, can be returned and exchanged, or the
money will be refunded.
Locust street, Columbia, Pa.
April 7,1847.
P. SC IIREIN ER has removed
itaiMhis WATCH and JEW EL
LERY Establishment to the
A I.:N LIT FRONT Bt. ca., recently hued up by
him, between Barr's and Black's Hotel, Front
Street,where the public can be accommodated,
as heretofore, with all articles in the Jewel
lery line, at the cheapest rates.
eolumbia, J my 17,1847.—tf.
for r g l i r . a , n . s s in o g rfg a te n ,, d
j 1 burnishing all m•talir .
such Geifl, Silver, Brass Britarna, Steel ware,
VV indoor Panes, Sze. Sold by
The man is thought a knave or fool.
Or bigot, plotting crime,
Who for the advancement of his kind,
Is wiser than his time.
For him the hemlock shall distil;
For him the aze be bared ;
For him the glbbetshall be built
For him the stake prepared.
Him shall the scorn and wrath of men
Pursue with deadly aim;
And malice, envy, spite and lies, •
Shall desecrate his name.
not truth shall conquer at the last,
For round and round we run,
And ever the right comes uppermost,
And ever injustice done.
Pace through thy cell, old Socrates,
Cheerily to and fro ;
Trust to 0g :impulse of thy soul,
And let the poison flow.
They may shatter to earth the lamp of clay
That holds a light divine,
But they cannot quench the fire of thought
fly any such deadly wine:
They cannot blot thy spoken words
Front the memory of man.
By all the poison ever was hrewed,
Since time its course began.
To-day aborred, to-morrow adored,
So round nod round we run.
And ever the truth comes uppermost.
.And ever is juetice done.
Plod in thy cave, grey anchorite;
Ids wiser titan thy peers;
Augment the range of human power,
And trust to coming years.
They may call thee w farad and monk accursed.
And load thee with dispraise;
Thou wart horn five hundred years too soon
For the comfort of thy days,
Rut not too soon for human kind
Time bath reward in store;
And the demons of our sires become
The saints that we adore.
The blind can see, the clay.: is lord
So round and round we run—
And ever the wrong is proved to be wrong,
And ever is justice done.
Keep, Galileo, to thy thought,
And nerve thy soul to bear—
They may gloat o'er the senseless words they wring
Front the pang.) of thy tlesplir—
They may veil their eyro, hot they cannot hide
The smelt meridian glow—
The heel of a priest may tread thee down.
And a ty rant work thee woe:
HUE never a truth has been destroyed—
They may curse it and call it crime—
Pervert and betray, or slander and slay
Its teachers for a time.
But the sunshine aye shall light the sky,
As round and round we run—
As the truth shall ever come uppermost,
And justice shall be done.
And live there now such men as these—
ith thoughts like the great of old 7
Many have died in their misery,
And left thought untold—
And many live, and are ranked mad,
And placed in the cold world's loan,
For sending their bright far-seeing souls
Three centuries in the eau.
They toil in ponnry and grief.
irtaknown. if not maligned—
Forlorn, forlorn, hearing the scorn
Of the meanest of mankind.
But the wnrld goes round and round,
And the genial seasons run,
And ever the truth comes uppermost,
Amid ever is jounce dune.
Mr. Editor:—ln returning from a trip to the
Lakes a few days since, I witnessed a little affair
that makes quite an item in my note-book, and
may amuse your readers. After a weary drive in
a procession of twelve coaches, that moved solemn.
ly for twelve hours over as many miles of beautiful
country ; we pulled up in front of the "National"
in SpringfiLld at about 9P. M. The Circus and
county Court kept.. that beautiful little town in a
densely populated state, so much so that the sixty
or seventy passengers that I counted as travelling
companions, could not find beds to rest their weary
limbs upon, but were forced to take carpe:.bags,
trunks, juleps, &c., until the cars for Cincinnati
would give us more comfortable quarters. Among
the rest, a little Frenchman, whose baggage con.
sisted of a queerly shaped hat-box and a faded silk
umbrella, moved restlessly about with the box in
one hand and the umbrella in the other, pouring
forth an uninterrupted stream of incomprehensible
English, in a way sufficiently ludicrous to amuse the
crowds. Suddenly the little garlic worshipper dis
covered to his utter dismay, that lie had lost his tick
et, purchased at Buffalo and warranted to carry him
through to the Ilenric House in Cincinnati. Here
was a predicament, and in the consternation of the
moment lie dropped both hat-box and umbrella, and
vociferated loudly and in razor-grinding-tones for
the stage-agent.
" Vere is de stage agent ?—Vere I salt find de
agent?—Oh mon Dicu—by gar—l have pay one—
two—four—several—great many dollaires for von
teckcts vich I have no got. Who hay peek up my
teat:As—who have find him—verc is de agent?
It so happened that Mr. L—, the gentlemanly
stage manager, and out-door businessman of one of
the Cincinnati theatres was one of our passengers,
and at the time of Monsieur La Frog's deepest. dis
tress was seen standing in the moonlight in front
of the Circus talking to a number of friends, when
some mischcvious wag pointed him out to the little
Frenchman, as the stage agent. In a moment. he
was by the side of L—, and breaking in upon
the conversaton without any ceremony, exclaimed,
"Sara, I have lose my passport—no dot cos not
him—l have no lose my passport I have lose my—
vat you call him? eli alt, yes—l have got him.
No, no, I no mean I have got the ting-1 mean I
have got dc name of de ling, I have lost my teokets."
I,—, who knew nothing of the circumstances,
supposing the man meant a Ctrcus_ ticket, qua-tly
" I am not connected with the Circus, air."
"Sare•cusa, dam the Sare•cum--sat da dem•l
care about de Sare-cuss—l no vant the Sare-cuss;
I vont my teeket vich I have lose."
"I am sorry for your loss, sir, but am not the
person to apply to for a remedy."
"You are not ze pairsoune to make de remedie
sare! arc you not connect wid the stage."
" Yes sir, I am connected with the stage, and if I
was in Cincinnati, would with pleasure replace your
lost ticket, but I have nut the power to do so here."
"Vat de dam I do viz de teckets in Cincenatt—
I no vent de mckets in Cincenatt—l vent de teek
eta—here—in does place vete I lose him—if 1 no
get de teeket here I sail nevaire get to Cincenatt—l
sail bring nice, four, several gentleman, vich will
prove zat I hale pay for my teeket vich I have no
got, but vich have zliump out of my pockette."
"Never mind sir," kindly responded L— glad
to get rid of the tormentor upon any terms. " I
will replace your ticket." So saying, he stepped up
to one of the attaches of the Circus, procured a
ticket and handed it to the excited Frenchman.
Poor Frenchy took the square piece of pasteboard
marked " Box" and supposing all right, put it care
fully in his pocket book—gathered up his hatbox
and umbrella, and, reaching the Hotel, was fortu
nate enough to find six feet of the parlor floor un
occupied. Stretching himself out at full length, he
was soon in the land of dreams where no doubt his
soul revelled and floundered in whole seas of frog.
In the morning soon after beakfast, we were all
seated comfortably in the cars, and tearing along at
a break-neck speed. French.) , sat close by me, and
jabbered incessantly. Shortly after, the conductor
entered, with the usual salutation of "tickets, gen
tlemen." Our little friend opened his pocket book,
took out the ticket he had received the night before
and presented it to the conductor.
"This is not the right ticket, sir."
"He ces no de right teckct7 yes mire, he is dc
right locket; I have got him from the stage agent,
That don't alter the matter, sir, I tell you that
ain't the proper ticket. It don't belong here—lt
belongs to the Circus,"
"Ha dare ces dat dam Samosa come once
more. Now vat de dery I have got to do viz de
Sarecusa ?"
"I know nothing about your connection, sir; I
only know that that ain't the right ticket, and if
you don't produce the proper document before we
reach town, you'll have to pay your fare."
He was just about to assassinate English in re
ply, when a benevolent individual, who sat next to
him, explained, as well as he could the true nature
of the case. This only had the effect of changing
the current of his rage, and he chafed up and down
the floor, showering invectives upon the devoted
head of the agent, who had given him the ticket
the night before.
" It yes, by gar, I have now sec—l have been
shoat—l have been swindailc—l have been vat you
call de humbug—but becalm mind, I sail return
yesterday—tomorrow—sometime, and chastise de
deco rascal, vera much, great deal, several time."
While laying his flattering consolation to his
wounded soul, his eye happened to rest upon poor
L—, who sat quietly at the far end of the car—
and recognizing him as the stage-agent of the night
before, he at once "opened on him."
"Sara; you are a vera great scoundrel, nod I
sall give you five cent to black my boot."
"What's that, sir 7"
1 say you arc von dem a rascal—you leetaile a
puppy dog viz out de tail—you have peeked any
pockets—you have sheet a me—you have no getve
me ze teekets rich I have lose—but you have geeve
me von dem teekets to de Opera la Cheval—vot
you call de horse opera—de dam Sarecuss."
"Sir," said L—, rising from his seat in cvi•
dent indignation, "what do you mean? How dare
you apply the word pickpocket to me 1"
"Sire: I soli soon slow you vol. I have mean—
I mean to flog a you—l mean to shastisc a you,
vera much," and suiting the action to the word,
he pitched into his antagonist, and, before by stand.
ers could separate them, had badly dislocated poor
L —'s shirt collar, and drawn a copious flood of
Claret from his nose. By dint of persuasion and
force combined, however he was finally seated in
Iront of the car. surrounded by a number of peace.
makers, who after much difficulty, succeeded in
convincing him that the whole affair originated in
a mistake. He then begged to be conducted to
who was busily engaged in saturating the
third handkerchief, in a vain attempt to stop the
red current that still persisted in ooziug from his
victim nose.
"Saxe, I have see I have make you leetaife,
small, great big mistake, I am ver sorry for him.
On my honaire, sate, if I have know him before, I
still not have weep your noise; but I am ready to
make de apologise—to make amende, and lor every
drop of claret which I have draw from your nose,
I sail, wiz plaisa ire, put von bottaile in your bellie."
Here the loud mirth of the bystanders restored
L— to his usual good humor, and joining in the
the laughter, he shook hands with his antagonist,
and they were friends.
A recent entry in the day book of the Ilenrie
House, runs somewhat thus:
2 Baskets Champaigne.
2 Baskets Claret. [Morning Signal
'While Raymond and Waring's Caravan was
being exhibited in this city, a gawky, long-legged
Jonathan from the country, who had never soon
the elephant," either literally or metaphorically,
was stalking along carelessly in the pavilion, al
ternately starting at the caged animals and cram
ming a sheet of gingerbread into his mouth, when
suddenly ho came bump against Columbus.
"Thunder and spikes !" exclaimed he, staggoring
backwards about twenty pacer, white his eye.;
stuck out like letters on a sign—" whet dorn'd
critter with two tails hare we got here:"
The busy, bustling little village of in the
good State of Maine, boasts of its industrious and
thriving men, and of its numerous fair women.—
Like all other villages in Christendom, It is blessed
or rather cursed, with its quota of busybodies; a
genius of bipeds not satisfactorily described by any
naturalist, from Adam down to those of the present
time. A "family jar," brought about through their
influence, is to them, as the " b'lloys" would say,
"nuts;" and if they succeed in stirring a "muss"
j' - in.tlic church, or in breaking up a "bone match,'
they are in their most happy mood, and have at
tained the highest point of their ambition, the most
exemplary life is not exempt from their pestiferous
attacks—like drowning men, who catch at straws,
they pounce upon every little seeming obliquity,
and magnify it into a regular immoral tornado,
whose progress will be death to the peace of society
and the well-being of the community at large.—
Small bubbles of indiscretion, seen floating on the
surface of society, which if undisturbed, would be
swept away by the first breeze of returning reason,—
are caught up by them, inflated with the gas of
mischief till they become balloons of no mean di
mensions, and then sent on theirerrands of discord
and death—in their progress setting every quid
nunc on tiptoe. Every wee-bit of a pimple found
nn the fair skin of righteousness, which would soon
disappear under the salve of repents nem---is scratch.
ed by their poisonous finger-nails till it becomes,
apparently, a running sore of iniquity. Every di.
minutive excrescence discovered an the smooth bark
of the tree of rectitude, which, by the application
of a little lye of persuasion, would soon be extirpa
ted,—is hacked by their catcrpillnr-hatchets till it
is transformed into an unsightly wart, that in time,
causes the tree to wither and die.
Deacon Hezekiali Brown was one of the first
settlers of B—, nod,—bcing a man of property,
industry, and go-altead.a.tivemess, besides a prac.
tical Christian,—under his invigorating and health.
ful influence, a bustling little village soon sprang
into existence; and very soon boasted of its tall.
spired church, and " big yellow school house on the
hill." A society was soon formed, a church organ.
iced, and a pastor settled. Everything went on
swimmingly for a few years, the church exercising
a salutary influence over the community. At last
unfortunately for the peace of the church and the
spread of its kindly influence, several busy-bodies
were found within its pale, who kept it constantly in
"hot water." This was a source of much grief to
the pastor and the good Deacon, as well as to all
others of the flock who were well disposed. But
very few escaped intiesagatiOn at urgent requests
of the self_righteous busy-bodice, and among these
was the Deacon, against whom amyl:Quid not bring
an accusation, owing to the strict uprightness of
his daily walk and conversation. Re longed for
them to enter a complaint against him for the
reason that he desired to give thorn a little castiga.
tion before the society and in their presence; and
sn strong grew this desire, that he was almost per.
suaded to commit some seeming trivial sin, to give
them a peg to hang an accusation on. An oppor
tunity did present itself, and the Deacon did im
prove it, at the hazard of his reputation.
One day, while the Deacon was alone in his
store, posting books, in came " brother" Gabble,
with a face as long as a hand-saw.
"Brother Brown," said Mr. Gabble, "there's a
dreadful rumor afloat, but I do hope it's only ru
" Sorry to hear it," remarked the Deacon, con
tinuing about his business.
"They du say that brother llonesty is a little to
intimate with sister Unsuspecting; and they do say
that -"
"Well, well," broke in the Dedoon, " what of
that? I hare slept with two women myself."
Mr. Gabble suddenly quit the store, perfectly
thunderstruck, instantly losing sight of the "dread.
ful rumor" he was about to communicate to the
Deacon, so bound up was he in the case of the
Deacon's sleeping with two women. Home he
went, as though each leg wcrc a locomotive.
" Oh, Mrs. Gabble ! would you a-blievcd ? Dee.
con Drown has been ----"
" Has been what, my dear Gabble?" broke in
his wire.
" Has boen -"
" Enut with il, dal"
" Hus been a-sleepin' with Iwo women:"
"Oh dear! the church!! Christianity—the sin
ful men ! How du you know 't is so. Mr. Gabble 7 "
"lie told me so, with bis own mouth, not five
minutes since !"
" The wretch !—poor Mrs. Drown !—how I do
pitty her poor innocent soul ! Ob ! la! ycou can
never can find a perfect won—luddy r
And Mrs. Gabble started, post haste, for Mrs.
Tuttic's and communicated the sad tidings in no
time ; and Mrs. Tattle and Mrs. Gabble ran to Mrs.
Quackle's, and rifler communicating the intelli
gence, the three ladies went from house to house,
speeding the news faster than it could have horn
done by magnetic telegraph. In less than an hour
all the busy-bodies in town were on tiptoe, and
finally assembled at Mr. Gabble's, "en see what
should be did."
Meanwhile Mr. Brown informed his wife, and
several of hie brethren, of what was going oft—
what he said—and he desired that a meeting of the
church be called, in case the subject was agitated
much, for an investigation.
Tho busy-bodies chose a. committee of men, to
visit the parson, and a committee of ladies to visit
"poor Mrs. Brown:" who, having attended to the
painful duties assigned them felt much relieved
Person Moody was sharked at the recital of the
melancboly news, and ordered that a church meet.
ing be held that very evening, for the investigation ;
and as for Mrs. Brown, the confiding wife, she did
not believe there was a word of truth in it.
Evening came, and the members of the church
assembled. Deacon Brown, as usual, sealed him
self in the big arm chair by the altar, much to the
dissatisfaction of the Gabbles, the Tattles, the
Quackles, and their associates, who said " he'd con
taminate the sacred cheer." Parson Moody made
a fervent prayer; and then, eller explanatory re.
marks, called upon Deacon Brown for an explana
tion of the alleged sinful charge; and, if he could,
to clear his skirts of the foul stain now resting upon
them. The Deacon rose, and in a clear voice paid :
"It has now been nigh ten years since the organ
ization of this church. For the first five or six
years,—and Mr. Moody can bear witnes3 of the
truth of what I say,—not the least trouble existed—
nut a discordant note ever broke nn the ear. All
was peace and happiness. For the last three or
four years, things have been quite different. Scv.
eral busy.bodies have crept into the church, and
have kept it in constant turmoil." [[lere the Gab.
hies and Tattles and Quackles commenced nestling
and looking very uneasy, which was noticed by the
Deacon.] "If my remarks cut them, all I have to
say is, let the galled jades wince!" ["l mpudence!"
broke in Mrs. Gabble.] "Many times have we been
called to investigate serious charges, which proved
to be mere gossip, originating with busy-bodies. It
would be for the peace and well-being of the church
and of the town, if these busy-bodies would leave,
and live by themselves, far from peaceeLle and well
disposed people. I am charged, as I learn, with
the high misdemeanor of sleeping with two scorner.
Have you any proof to establish the charge ?"
" Prufe enough, Deacon Brown?" said Mrs. Gab_
hie, jumping up, and ussuming rather a pugnacious
attitude; "prule enuf sir Mr. Gabble my own
husband told me that ycou told him that yenta had
slept with lew women l"
" And Mrs. Gabble told me so:- said Mrs. Tattle.
And Mrs. Tattle and Mrs. Gabble both told me
so:" chimed in Mrs. Quackle.
" Yes, ycou did tell me so, Mr. Brown!" said Mr
"Brcthcn," said the Deacon, "you have the eel.
deuce. The fact is, I did tell Mr. Gabble that I
had slept with two women, and I told him so for
the purpose of having a fair chaace to tt.ll the busy.
bodies, and mischief-makers, what I think of them."
"A. purty git off, I should think Mister Brown !"
said the amiable Mrs. Gabble.
"No get off at all, madam. What I told is
"Wretch!" "Lubertine !" "Scamp!" scream
ed the ladies.
"Neither," said the Deacon. " I told Mr. Gab
ble, who came to me with a silly rumor that one of
our brothers was too intimate with sister
that I had slept with two women myself, and I told
him the truth."
"And ycou a Deacon of the church!" said Mrs.
Ycs—and I a deacon of the church. When a
child, like other children, Islept with say MOTHER
and since my nuptials were celebrated, I have slept
with nay wife."'
Reader, if you ever saw a fleck of sheep smiler,
you, can imagine the very sudden departure of the
Gabbles and the Tattles and the Quackles, and
their "chums." They withdrew from the church,
declaring that they "wouldn't be seen in a church
that had such a Deacon as Deacon Hczekiah
Brown—so they wouldn't !"—Yankre Blade.
An iSCIDENT AT TUE ATtiss.r.ust.—One night
last week, a tall gaunt looking fellow, from up
somewhere in the country, stopped before the
Iloward Athenceent, just as the crowd was passing
in to witness the performance of the Ravel Fami
ly, and having satisfied himself that it was a
" mcetin' us"—he stepped over to the entrance.—
As he was passing the doorkeeper—" Ticket, sir,"
announced rather peremptorily by that function
ary, set the stranger back somewhat. "A wet 7"
" Your ticket." " I hai'nt any," " Where is it 7"
" I gin it to the railroad chap!" "I mean your
entrance ticket, here.', "I !ell yet I hain't any."
"Yon can get one below, sir." Our friend went
to the office, where he applied for a card of admis
sion. " I want a good seat, mister." Fifly cents,
sir." " Luke yore—l can't go the half, stranger,
but I'm good for n quarter." An upper circle
ticket was handed him, and he mounted the stairs.
Ile had leisure to gaze upon the crowd out for an
instant, when Javelli made one of his daring springs
upon the tight rope. " Gee—id/Wl:err' exclaimed
the stranger—"wot's that 7" but his surprise was
drowned by the applause which followed; and
Javelli threw one of his famous somersets, alight
ing upon the corde on his feet. "That's the devil,
sartin," cried Johnny Raw, "it &int any body else—
but this is the pers'itsion I like ! Go it boss—you're
one on 'em. Thunder and urthquakes! look at 'in!
\Val, blister me if I don't cum to town, and 'tend
this merlin' three times a week, sure !"—Baston
Recently, during the performance of Hamlet, at
the Theatre Royal, Greenock, a young man, who
had taken the part of Laertee, et a short notice,
got on pretty correctly Lill he came to the words,
I have a speech of fire," and litre he snuck dead.
After waiting a few seconds, Mr. D., who was
playing the King, replied, "Oh ! you have a speech
of fire, have you? well, blaze away, by all lateens."
This scene,
the scene shifters put a period
to, delighted the audience amazingly.
MBES AN.—The Boston Times saya:—Thc fol.
lowing notice, we aro credibly informed, anpearml
on tlic door of a celebrated and not green (though
perhaps some other color) lawyer's office:
"Mr.— will be in at 3 o'clock—those who
can't read inquire at the opposite door."
Doubtless, the first thing ever done to the human
bead was to scratch it. And it is equally as cer
tain, that about the same period of time the hair
falling over the eyes of the newly created being
and shutting out those scenes on which be would
naturally be apt to gaze with wonder and delight,
was drawn to the back part of the head and con
fined there by a pliant vino or the bark of a tree.
From that memorable epoch to the present day,
men and women have studied how to arrange the
hair in the most becoming manner, or rather in a
manner nearest the prevailing fashion whether be
coming or not.
The Ancients were undoubtedly careful of their
hair and proud of it withal. The Grecian Indies
dressed it in the most tasteful style. The busts of
the old sages and warriors,show that their hair
and whiskers were full and plentiful, and uncom
mon curly. The barbers of those days unquestion
able, were adepts in their profession; and their
minds must have been enlarged by the attempts,
they made to add to the nobility of the human
countenance. Not like the hair-dressers of modern
tinier, whose genius is stinted and cramped by
their general and successful efforts to make men re
semble gnats and monkics.
The celebrated Lord Monboddo proved to the
satisfaction of himself, if of no one else, that mon.
kies originated men. It is a. poor rule, they say,
that will not work both ways. The great wheel
has rolled along, and the point where men originat
ed monkies is ruched. Let the hairy men of the
present day adopt the queue, and then we have the
animal in all his glory, with a tail which has but
risen to a higher station during the march of refine
Another competent philosopher, at present resid
ing in the Eldridge street prison, has demonistrated
in a series of experiments with the blowpipe on
the head of imported jackasses, that long hair has
a tendency to weaken the brain. lie asserts that
the brain email in particular, is continually throw
ing off gaseous particles, and it is only to be kept
in a natural condition by a free supply of nutriment,
derived chiefly from the atmosphere. Now when
the hair is long, or what is worse, when it is dis.
trihuted about the head, under the chin and nose,
it attracts to a distance from the brain those
nourishing items above mentioned which are neces
sary to the healthful action of the mental faculties,
and in tnany cases induce idiocy and foolishness.
Thus, when you meet a hairy man you need not
take a long pole to measure his intellect:should you
be an "artist in hair," just step into the National
Academy of Design, you have before you a com
plete picture of Cause and Effect.
This rule, as the learned Doctor -, very
justly observes, does not hold good as regards wo
men. Their skulls being much thiner than those
of the males, their attraction vastly more great,
and the quality of their hair softer and more
permeable, nutritious food from the atmosphere, is
freely conveyed to the support of the brain, especial
ly during thunder storms, white-squalls and torna
dos of all kinds, consequently, and in an inverse
ratio, women with short hair arc apt to feel very
silly; and their preceptions being quicker than
those of the men, they usually become aware of
their silliness. Hence, concludes the Doctor, the
milk in the cocoa-flout, which in this plain and aim.
pie manner is demonstrated to a hair.
The dye used for coloring the hair has been de.
nounced by the most skilful pysicians of France as
injurious to the intellect. The dissection of the
braio of a celebrated actress who dyed her hair,
induced them to give publicity to their discovery.
But that this is considered mere bagatelle by the
fashionable gentlemen of our day, is clearly proved
by those you meet in your daily walks, who carry
the head of fifteen behind the face of fifty. One
of those paragons will saturate Ilia hair at night
with the coloring matter, swathe his head and face
in oilskin bandages, making what the younger Wel.
ler would call an "Egyptian mummy ofhisself," and
retire to his couch in perfect mental security. The
most powerful dye cannot reach his brain.
Whether the custom of coloring the hair
flourishes among the ladies to any great extent, is
yet involved in mystery. But that they wear falso
hair is well known. Those miniature cake-baskets,
technically called braids, now adorning the heads
of the gentler sex, are deceptive in the highest
degree. A man not initiated into the wonders of
the female toilet, gazes on them with innate satis
faction, supposing that to secure the admiration of
his sex the ladies spend a great portion of their
time in doing up their hair in this handsome style.
But alas, nothing is easier than for one of these
lovely creatures to dress her hair a little out of
fashion for the home market, and lend bar cake.
basket to a tricot!.
It would be a rash assertion of any man that the
gentler sex are not bewitching, no matter how they
wear their hair., This being of little momentthen,
let them adopt the palm leaf with wavy edges
around the face, the Grecian, the cake-basket, or
the rope-of:onion style ; let them hang ringlets in
front and took like angels peeping from gooseberry
bushes; or throw their hair down the back in one
great and shining mass, after the manner of In
dian queens; or cut it short end wear enticing
little caps,—tlicy still cap the the climax of what
ever is left good and lovely in the mingled era of
goats, baboons and motzkies.
The Kidd bubble has not yet burst ! The work
men are pumping the water out of the coffer dam
as lustily as ever, and the steam is kept up as usual
at Cauldwell's Landing!
Srancrr.—A . starch factory in Lapeer county.
Michigan, consumewyearly 2110,000 , Muihela of po.
I atom.. What a WASIC of food, just t 6 make frills
and shirt collars stick up!
Tincn-uir Quit;