Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, March 13, 1844, Image 1

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OttoteV to Goma lEittelligot cc, alYturtioing, VoMiro, 7Literature, arto, ct cttm, agriculture, atuttoement, &lc., kr.
vQ703 , 111. GE).
PUBLIIIIED ET
THEODORE H. CREMER.
Rl2 3 as•Lnaaaszi.
The "Jonitxxi." will be published every Wed
nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 50.
No subscription received for a shorter period than
six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
rearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be
inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
cordingly.
BANK NOTE II T.
Rates of Discount in Philittlelphia.
Banks in Philadelphia.
Bank of North America - - p a r
Bank of the Northern Liberties. - par
Bank of Penn Township - - par
Commercial Bank of Penn'a. - - par
Farmers' & Mechanics' bank - - par
Kensington bank - - - par
Schuylkill bank - - - - par
Mechanics' bank - - - - par
Philadelphia bank - - - par
Southwark bank - - - par
Western hank - - - - par
Moyamensing hank - - - par
Manufacturers' and Mechanics' bank par
Bank of Pennsylvania - - - par
Girard bank - - - - 10
Bank of the United States - 22
Country Banks.
Bank of Chester co. • Westchester par
Bank of Delaware co. Chester par
-Bank of Germantown Germantown par
Bank of Montgiry co. Norristown par
Doylestown bank Doylestown par
Easton Bank Easton par
Farmers' bk of Bucks co. Bristol par
'Batik of Nurthumberl'd Northumberland par
Honesdale bank Honesdale li
Farmers' bk of Lanc, Lancaster li
Lancaster bank Lancaster i
Lancaster county bank Lancaster i•
Bank of Pittsburg Pittsburg i
Merch'ts' & Manuf. bk. Pittsburg i
Exchange bank Pittsburg i
Do. do. branch of Hollidaysburg i
Col'a bk & bridge co. Columbia I
Franklin bank Washington li
Monongahela bk of B. Brownsville 1i
Farmers' bk of Reading Reading .i.
Lebanon bank Lebanon 1
Bank of Middletown Middletown 1
Carlisle bank Carlisle ' 1
Erie bank Erie 3
Bank of Chambersburg Chambersburg
Bank of Gettysburg Gettysburg 1
York bank York 1
Harrisburg bank Harrisburg 1
Miners' bk of Pottsville Pottsville I i
Bank of Susquehanna co. Montrose 35
Farmers' & Drovers' bk Way nesborough 3
Bank of Lewistown Lewistown 2
Wyoming bank Wilkesbarre 2
Northampton bank Allentown no sale
Berks county bark Reading no sale
West Branch hank Williamsport 7
'Towanda bank Towanda no sale
Rates of Relief Notes.
Northern Liberties, Delaware County, Far
mers' Bank of Bucks, Germantown par
All others 2
FRANKLIN HOUSE,
Runtingdon, Pennsylvania.
CHRISTIAN COOTS,
vOULD most respectfully inform the
citizens of this county, the public
generally, and his old friends and customers
in particular, that he has leased for a term
of years, that large and commodious building
on the West end of the Diamond, in the ho
s ()ugh of Huntingdon, formerly kept by An
drew H. Hirst, which he has opened and
furnished as a Public House, where every
attention. that will minister to the comfort
and convenience of guests will always be
found.
liC2tis:s. cli 3 en.l3Dacy)
will at all times be abundantly supplied with
the best to be had in the country.
1:22d50 enzr ,
will be furnished with the best of Liquors,
and
HIS STABLIAG
is the very best in the borough, and will
always be attended by the most trusty, at
tentive and exerienced ostlers.
Mr. Couts p ledges himself to make every
exertion to render the "Franklin House" a
home to all who may favor him with a call.
'l'hankful to his old customers for past favors,
lie respectfully solicits a continuance of their
custom.
Boarders, by the year, month, or week,
will be taken on reasonable terms.
Huntingdon, Nov. 8. 1843,
CHAIRS ! CHAIRS! !
The subscriber is now prepared to furnish
every description of CHAIRS, from the
plait kitchen to the most splendid and fash
ionable one for the parlor. Also the
LUXURIOUS AND EASY CHAIR
- -
FOR THE INVALID,
'a which the feeble and afflicted invalid,
though unable to walk even with the aid of
crutches, may with case move himself from
room to room, through the garden, and in
the street, with great rapidity.
Those who are about going to housekeep
ing, will find it to their advantage to give
him a call, whilst the Student and Gentle
man of leisure are sure to had in his newly
invented Revolving Chair, that comfort
which no other article of the kind is capable
•f affording. Country merchants and ship
pers can be supplied with any quantity at
short notice.
ABRAHAM McDONOUGH,
No. 113 South Second street, two doors
below Dock, Philadelphia.
May 3 4 1, 1843.•••1 3.r.
u33giv:2azcsM•cx;•zv a aqn,
ErTOINVALIDS.E 7
How important it is that you commence
without loss of time with BRANDRETH
PILLS. They mildly but surely remove all
impurities from the blood, and no case of
sickness can effect the human frame, that
these celebrated Pills do not relieve as much
as medicine can do. COLDS and COUGHS
are more benefiitted by the Braneireth Pills
than by Lozenges and Candies. Very well,
perhaps, as palliatives, hot worth nothing as
ERADICATORS of diseases from the human
system. The Brandreth Pills Lure, they do
not merely relieve, they cure. Diseases,
whether chronic or recent, intectious or oth
erwise, will certainly be cured by the use of
these all-sufficient Pills.
CURE OF A C ANCEROUS SORE.
SING SING, January 21, 1843.
DR. BENJAMIN BRANDRETR:
Honored Si,',—
Owing to you a debt of gratitude that mo
ney cannot pay. I am induced to make a
public acknowledgment of the benefit my
wife has derived from your invaluable Pills.
About three years this winter she was taken
with a pain in her acle; which soon became
very much inflamed, and swollen, so m tch
that we became much alarmed, and sent
for the doctor. During his attendance the
pain and swelling increased to an alarming
degree, and in three weeks from its first
commencing it become a running sore. She
could get no rest at night the pain was so
great. Our first doctor attended her for six
months, and she received no benefit what
ever, the pain growing worse and the sore
larger all the time. He said if it was healed
tip it would be her death, but he appeared
to be at a loss how to proceed, and my poor
wife still continued to suffer the most terrible
tortures. We therefore sought other aid,
in a Botannical doctor, who said when. he
first saw it that lie could soon cure the sore
and give her ease 'at once. To our surprise
lie gave her no relief, and acknowledged that
it quite baffled all his skill.
Thus we felt atter having tried during one
whole year the experience of two celebrated
physictons in vain, in absolute despair. My
poor wife's constitution rapidly failing in
the prime of her years front her continued
suffering. Under these circumstances we
concluded that we would try your Universal
Vegetable Pills, determined to fairly test
their curative effects. To my wife's great
comfort the first few doses affbrded great re
lief of the pain. Within one week to the
astonishment of ourselves and every one who
knew the case, the swelling and the infla
mation began to cease so that she felt quite
easy, and would sleep comfortable, and sir,
after six weeks' use she was able to go dim'
the house and again attend to the manage
ment of her family, which site had not done
for nearly fourteen months. Ina little over
two months from the time she first commen
ced the use of your invaluable Pills her allele
was quite sound, and her health better than
it had been in quite a number of years be
fore. I send you this statement atter two
years test of the cure, considering it only an
act of justice to you and the public at large.
We are with much gratitude,
Very respectfully — ,
TIMO FRY & ELIZA A. LITTLE,
PS-The Botanical Doctor pronounced
the sore cancerous, and filially said no good
could be done, unless the whole of the lksh
was cut off and the bone scraped. Thank a
kind Providence, this made us resort to your
l'ills, which saved us from all further mis
ery, and fur which we hope to be thankful.
T. &E. A. 1..
Dr. Brandreth's Pills are for sale by the
following Agents in Huntingdon county.
Thomas Read, tutingdon.
Wm. Stewart; Huntingdon.
& N. Cresswell, Petersburg.
Mary W. Neff, Alexandria.
Joseph Patton, Jr. Duncansviile.
Hartman & Smith, Manor Hill.
S. Miles Green &Co. Barree Forge,
Thomas Owens, Birmingham,
A. Patterson, Williamsburg.
Peter Gnod, Jr. Canoe (reek.
John Lutz, Shtrleysburg.
Observe each of Dr. Bredreth's Agents
have an engraved certificate of Agency.--
Examine th is and you will hind the NEW
LA BLES upon the certificate corresponding
with those on the Boxes, none other are gen
sine.
13. BRANDRETH, M. D.
Phira. Office S. North Bth St.—ly.
DR. WISTAR!S
BALSAM OF WILD CHERRY.
The best medicine known to mun for incipient
Consumption, Asthma of every stage, Bleeding of
the Lungs, Coughs, Colds, Liver. .Complaint, and
all diseases of the Pulmonary Organs, may be had
of Agents named below.
(CY. All published statements of cures performed
by this medicine are, in every respect, TRUE. Be
careful and get the genuine " Dr. Wistar's Balsam
of Wild Cherry," as spurious imitations are abroial.
Orders from any part of the country should bo
addressed to Isaac Butts, No. 125 Fulton street,
New York.
AGENTS,
For sale by Thomas Read; Huntingdon,
and James Orr, Hollidaysburg.
Price one dollar lier bottle.
December 6, 1843.
ag"' Read the following froin Dr. Jacob
Hoffman , a physician of extensive practice in
Huntingdon county:
Dear Sir:—l procured one bottle of Dr.
Wistar's Balsam of Wild Cherry, from
T homas Read, Esq. of this place, and tried
it in a case of obstinate Asthma on a r.hildof
Paul Schweble, in which many other reme
dies had been tried without any relief. The
Balsam gave sudden relief, and in my opin
ion the child is effectually cured by its use.
Yours, &c.
JACOB HOFFMAN, M. D.
Dec. 25, 1841:
Job Printing.
NEATLY EXECUTED
4T THIS OFFICE.
TnLANK BONDS—Judgment and cow
iitstraea—for sale at this office,
POETRY.
The Deep.
There's beauty in the deep:--
The wave is bluer than the eky ;
And, though the light shine bright on high,
More softly do the sea gems glow
That sparkle in the depths below;
The rainbow's tints are only made
When on the waters they are laid,
And sun and moon most sweetly shine
Upon the ocean's level brine,
There's beauty in the deep.
There's music in the deep :--
Is is not the surf's rough roar,
Nor in the whispering, Shelly shore—
They ore but earthly sounds, that tell
How little of the sea-nymph's shell,
That sends its loud, clear note abroad,
Or winds its softness through the flood,
Echoes through groves with coral gay,
And dies, on spongy banks, away,
There's music in the deep.
There's quiet in the deep;
Above, let tides and tempests lave,
And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave ;
Above, let care and fear contend,
With sin and sorrow to the end;
Here, far beneath the tainted foam,
That frets above our peaceful home,
We dream in joy, and wake in love,
Nor know the rage that yells above,
There's quiet in the deep.
My Sister's Song.
EY WN. JONES.
My Sister's song ! how sweetly wild
That music seems to be !
It was my fav'rite when a child,
And still it pleases me;
Although it wakes regretting tears,
For days there arc no more, •
And lifts the veil front buried years,
I love that song of yore !
I well remember how profound
We listened to the strain,
While those rich notes would float around—
My heart responds again !
I know not why it snakes me sad,
For cheerful is the lay;
But while each brow is smiling glad,
My own is turn'd away !
My mother lov'd the simple air,
It sooth'd her aged breast,
And oft dispell'd the mists of care
That broke upon her rest !
Then chide me not for feelings deep,
That to this theme belong;
Its melody can make me Weep--
It is my Sister's song !
IZZOCEIaZiAIIMOT.Ta.
WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL
T. lIIH
ARMY, DEcEraBER sith, 1783.
Can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be,
And freedom find no champion and no child,
Such as Columbia saw arise, when she
Sprang forth a Pallas, arm'd and undefiled?
Or must such minds be nourish'd in the wild,
Deep in the unpruned forest 'midst the roar
Of cataracts, where nursing Nature smiled
On infant WASHINGTON liar Earth no more
Such seed within her breast, or Europe no such
shore? Brno:,
The Revolution was over. The eight year's con
flict had ceased, and the warriors were now to sep
arate forever, turning their weapons into plough
shares, and their camps into workshops. The
spectacle, though a sublime and glorious one, was
yet attended with sorrowful feelings—for, alas ! in
the remains of that gallant army of patriot soldiers,
now about to disband without pay—without sup
port, stalked poverty, want and disease—the coun
try had not the means to be grateful.
The details of the condition of many of the offi
cers and soldiers at that period, according to history
and oral tradition, were melancholy in the extreme.
Possessing no means of patrimonial inheritance to
fall back upon—thrown out of even the perilous
support of the soldier at the commencement o f
winter, and hardly fit for any other duty than that
of the camp—their situation can boas well imagined
as described.
A single instance, as a sample of the situation of
many of the officers, us related of the conduct of
Baron Steuben, may not be amiss. When tho
main body of the army was disbanded at Newburg,
and the veteran soldiers were bidding a parting fare
well to each other, Lieutenant Colonel Cochran, an
aged soldier of the New Hampshire line, remarked,
with tears in his eyes, as ho shook hands with the
Baron :
, For myself, I could stand it ; but my wife and
daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern,
and I have no means of removing them.'
Come, come,' said the Baron, don't give way
thus. I will pay my respects to Mrs. Cochran and
her daughters.'
When the good old soldier left them, their coun
tenances wore warm with gratitude ; for ho left them
all he had.
In ono of the Rhode Island regiments were seve
ral companies of black troops, who had served
throughout the whole war, and their bravery and
decipline were unsurpassed. The Baron observed
one of these poor wounded negroes on the wharf,
at Newburgh, apparently in great distress.
What's the matter, brother soldier 1'
Why, Master Baron, I want a dollar to get
home with, now the Congress has no further use
for me.'
The Baron was absent for a few moments, and
returned with a silver dollar, which he had bor
rowed.
There, it is all I could get—take it.'
The negro received it with joy, hailed a sloop
which was passing down the river to New York,
and, as ho reached the deck, took off his hat, and
said—
God bless Master Baron.'
These are only single illustrations of the condi.
tion of the army, at the close of the war. Indeed,
Washington had this in view, at the close of his
farewell address to the army at Rocky Hill, in No
vember, 1783.
And being now to conclude these, his last pub
lic orders, to take his ultimate leave in a short time
of the military character, and to kid a final adieu to
the armies he has so long had the honor to com
mand, he can only again offer, in their behalf, his
commendations to their country, and Isis prayer to
the God of armies.
'May ample justice be done them here, and may
the choicest of heaven's favors, both hero and here
after, attend those who, under divine auspices, have
secured innumerable blessings for others.
With these wishes, and this benediction, the
commander-in•chief is about to retire from service.
The curtain 01 separation will soon be drawn, and
the military scene to him will be closed forever!'
The closing of this military scene,' lam about
to relate.
New York had been occupied by Washington
on the 25th of November. A few days after, he
notified the President of Congress, which body was
then in SCSBiOII, at Annapolis, in Maryland, that as the
war was now closed, he should consider it his duty
to proceed thence, and surrender to that body the
commission which he had received from them more
than seven years before.
The morning of the 4th of December, 1783, was
a sad and heavy ono to the remnant of the American
army in the city of New York. Tho noon of that
day was to witness the farewell of Washington—he
was to bid adieu to his military comrades forever.
The officers who had been with him in the solemn
council, the privates who had fought and charged
in she 4 heavy fight,' under his orders, wero to hear
his commands no longer—the manly form and dig
nified countenance of the great captain,' was
henceforth to live only in their memories.
As the hour of noon approached, the whole garri
son at the request of Washington himself, was put
in motion and marched down Broad street to Fran
cis' tavern, his head quarters. He wished to take
leave of private soldiers alike with the officers, end
bid them all adieu. His favorite light infantry
were drawn up in lino facing inwards, through
Pearl street, to the foot of White Hall, where a
barge was in readiness to convey him to Powles'
Hook.
Within the dining room of the tavern were as
sembled the General and field officers to take their
farewell.
Assembled there was Knox, Green, Steuben,
Gates, Clinton and others, who had served with him
faithfully and truly in the "tented field ;" but alas!
where were others who had entered the war with
him seven years before. Their bones crumbled in
the soil from Canada to Georgia. Montgomery had
yielded up his life at Quebec, Wooster at Danbury,
Woodhull wee barbarously murdered whilst a pri
soner at the battle on Long Island, Mercer fell mor
tally wounded at Princeton, the brave and chivalric
Laurens, after displaying the most heroic courage
in the trenches at Yorktown, died in a trifling skir
mish in South Carolina, the brave but eccentric
Lee was no longer living, and Putnam, like a help
less child, was stretched upon the bed of sickness.
Indeed, the battle-field and time had thinned the
ranks which entered with him into the conflict.
Washington entered the room—the hour of sep
aration had come. As he raised his eye, and glan
ced on tho faces of those assembled, a tear coursed
down hie cheek, and his voice was tremulous as he
saluted them. Nor was he alone—men,
"Albeit unused to the melting mood."
stood around him, whose uplifted hands to cover
their brows, told that the tear, which they in vain
attempted to conceal, bespoke the anguish they
could not hide.
After a moment's conversation, 'Washington cal-'
led for a glass of wine. It was brought him—tur
ning to his officers he thus addressed them—
" With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now
take my final leave of you, I most devoutly wish
your latter days may be as prosperous and happy
as your former ones have been glorious and honor
able. Ho then raised the glass to his lips, drank,
and added, "I cannot come to each of you to take
my leave, but shall be obliged toyou, if each of
you will take me by the hand.
General Knox, who stood nearest, buret into tears,
and advanced—incapable of utterance. Washing
ton grasped him by the hand, and embraced him.
The officers came up successively and took an af
fectionate leave. No words wore spoken, but all
was the " silent eloquence of tears." What were
mere words at such a scene Nothing. It was
the feeling of the heart—thrilling, though unspoken.
When the last of the officers had embraced him,
Washington left the rooin followed by his comrades,
and passed through the lines of light infantry.—
Ilia step. was slow and measured—his head uncov
ered, and the tears flowing thick and fast, as ho
looked from side to side at the veterans to whom he
now bade adieu for ever. Shortly an event occur
ad more touching than all the rest. A gigantic
soldier, who had stood by his side at Trenton step
ped forth from the ranks, and extended his hand.
"Farewell, my beloved general, farewell!"
Washington grasped his hand in conclusive emo
tion, in both of his. All discipline was now at an
end, the officers could not restrain the men, as they
rushed forward to take Washington by the hand,
and the sobs and tears of the soldiers told how
deeply engraven upon their affections was the love
of their commander.
At length, Washington reached the barge at
White Hall, and entered it. At the first stroke of
the oar, ho rose, and turning to the companions of
his glory, by waving his hat, bade them a silent
adieu, their answer was only in tears, officers and
men, with glistening eyes watched the receding
boat till the form of their noble commander was
lost in the distance.
Contrast the farewell of Washington to his army
at White Hall, in 1783, and the adieu of Napoleon
to his army at Fontainblue, in 1814 ! The one
had accomplished every wish of his heart—his no
ble exertions had achieved the independence of his
country, and he longed to retire to the bosom of his
home—his ambition was satisfied. He fought for
no crown or sceptre, but for equality and the mu
tual happiness of his fellow beings. No taint of
tyranny, no breath of slander, no whisper of dupli
city, marred the fair proportions of his public or
private life—but
" He was a man, take him for all in all,
We ne'er shall look upon his like again."
The other great soldier was the disciple of selfish
ambition. He raised the iron weapon of war to
crush only that lie might rule. What to him were
the cries of the widows and orphans ? Ho passed
to a throne by making the dead bodies of their pro
tectors his stepping stones. Ambition—self, were
the gods of his idolatry, and to them he sacrificed he
catoMbs of his fellow-men for the aggrandizement
of personal glory. Enthusiasm points with fearful
wonder to the name of Napoleon, whilst justice,
benevolence, freedom, and all the concomitants
which constitute the true happiness of man, Idled
almost a divine halo round the name and character
of Washington.
SCOTT'S ADVICE TO HIS SON.-11Crld, my dear
Charles, that which is most useful. Man only
differs from birds and beasts because he has the
means of availing himself of the knowledge acquired
by his predecessors. The swallow builds the same
nest which its father and mother built, and the spar
row does not improve by the experience of its
parents. "rho son of the learned pig, if it had one,
would be a mere brute, fit only to make bacon of.
It is not so with the human race. Our ancestors
lived in caves and wigwams, where we construct
palaces for the rich, and comfortable dwellings for
the poor; and why is this?—but because our eye
is enabled to look back upon the past; to improve
upon our ancestor's improvements, and to avoid
their errors. This can only be done by studying
history, and comparing it with passing es cuts.
WHO is A GENTLEMAN.-Not he who displays
the latest fashion—dresses in extravagance, with
gold rings and chains to display. Not he who
talks the loudest, and makes constant use of profane
language and vulgar words. Not he who is proud
and overbearing—who oppresses the poor, and
looks with contempt upon honest industry. Not
he who cannot control his passions, and humble
himself as a child. No—none of these are real
gentlemen. It is ho who is kind and obliging—
who is ready to do you a favor, with no hope of
reward—who visits the poor, and assists those who
are in need—who is more careful of the state of his
heart than the dress of his person--who is humble
and sociable—not irrasciblo and revengeful—who
always speaks the truth, without resorting to pro
fane and indecent words. Such a man is a gen
tleman, wherever he may be fnmel. Rich or poor,
high or low, ho is entitled to the appellation.
811011 T SENLENCE9 FROM Goon Tarxxcns.—
Moderation is the silken string running through the
pearl chain of all virtues.
A mother-in-law's sermon seldom takes well with
an audience of daughters-in-law.
Pastime, like wine, is poison in the morning.
Ho that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a
madman laughs at the rustling of his fetters.
God is better lodged in the heart than in great
edifices.
Emulation looks out for merit, that she may ex
alt herself by a victory ; envy spies out blemishes,
that she may lower another by defeat.
Histories make men wisp; poets witty ; the math
ematics, subtile; natural philosophy, deep; morals,
grave; logic and rhetoric, able to contend.
That mini has too high an opinion of himself that
is only afraid of thunder and earthquakes.
Losses aro insufferable to those who are not
accustomed to lose.
co , This is Leap Year, and of course the girls
have a right to do all the courting. Young men
aro to stay at home, practice all the , pietty ways'
they can, provide themselves with funs, learn to
blush, (the graceful rogues; we fear this will be the
hardest task,) and make as much Las& as peisible
whenever they expect a visit. It' the girls don't
thin off the number of old bachelors this year, it is
I entirely their own fault.
\...)..."flacc)az) S73ml. ditiszte.
of: a Turkey.
An a certain learned judge in Mexico, come time
since, walked one morning into Court, he thought
he would examine whether he was in time for kw
sinew; and feeling for hie repeater, found it was
not in his pocket.
'As usual,' said he to a friend who accompanied
him, as he passed through the crowd near the door,
'as usual, I have again left my watch at honiett
dor my pillow.'
He went on the bench and thought no more of
it. The court adjourned and he returned home.--
As soon as he was quietly seated in his parlor, he
bethought him of his timepeace. and turning to his
wife, requested her to send for it to their chamber.
'But, my dear judge,' said she, I sent it to you
three hours ago!' . .
Sent it to tne, my dear l Certainly not.'
Unquestionably,' replied the lady, 'and by the
person you sent for it t'
Precisely, my dear, the very person you sent for
it ! You had not left the house more than an hour,
when a well dressed man knocked at the door and
asked to see me. He brought one of the very finest
turkeys I ever saw; and said, that on your way to
court you met an Indian with a number of fowls,
and having bought this one at quite a bargain, you.
had given htm a couple of reals to bring it home;
with the request that I would have it killed, picked,
and put to cool, as you intended to invite your bro
ther judges to a dish of me& with you to-morrow,
And—Ohl by the way, Senorita, said he, his ex
cdllency, the judge, requested me to ask you to give
yourself the trouble to go to your chamber, and
take his watch front under the pillow, where he says
he left it, as usual, this morning, and send it to him
by me. And, of course, mi querido, I did so.'
You did 1' said the judge
Certainly,' said the lady,/
Well,' replied his honor, all I call say to you;
my dear, is, that you are as great a goose, as the
bird is a turkey. You've been robbed, madam ; the
man was a thief; I nevor sent for my watch; you've
been imposed upon ; and es a necessary consequence,
the confounded watch is lost forever!'
The trick was a cunning one; and atter a laugh;
and the restoration of tho judge's good humor by a
good dinner, it was resolved actually to have the
turkey for to•morrow's dinner, and his honor's bre=
them of the bench to enjoy so dear a morsel.
Accorclingly,after the adjournment of Court next
day, they all departed to his dwelling, with appe
tites sharpened by the expectation of arm repast.
Scarcely had they entered the rata, and exchan
ged the ordinary salutations, when the lady broke
forth with congratulations to his honor upon the
recovery of the stolen watch !
'How happy am I,' exclaimed she, r that the
1 1 villain was apprehended.
Apprehended! ; said the Judge, with surprise.
Yes ; and doubtless convicted, too, by this thee,'
said his wife.
You ure atwoyo talking riddles,' replied he,—
Explain yourself, my dear, I know nothing of the
thcif, watch or conviction.'
'lt can't be possible that I have been sem!r de
ceived,' quoth the lady,— , but this is the story
About one o'clock to day a pale and rather in
teresting young gentleman, dressed in a seedy suit
of black, came to the house in great haste—almost
out of breath. HO said ho was just from court ;
that he was one of the clerks; that the great villain
who had the audacity to steal your honor's watch
had just been arrested ; that the evidence was near ,
ly perfect to convict him; and all that was required
to complete it was the the turkey,' which must be
brought into court, and for that he had been sent
with a porter by your express orders.'
And you gave it to him i'
Of course I did ; who could have doubted hint,
or resisted the orders of a Judge ?'
Watch—and turkey—both gone--pray, what
the deuce, madam, are we to do for a dinner
[Eraniz Mayer's Mexico.
A YANKEE num—The editor of the Kukker.
booker, in his agreeable monthly gossip, relates the
following anecdote:
"The 'Yankee trick, described by our Medford
Massachusetts correspondent, is on file for insertion.
It is, in one of its features, not unlike the anecdote
of an old official Dutchman, in the valley of the
Mohawk, who one day stopped a Yankee pedlar;
journeying slowly through the valley on the Sab
bath, and informed him that he must put up' for
the day; or if it wash neshessary dat he should
hovel, ho must pay fur do pass.' It was neceent*
ry, it seems, for he told the Yankee to write the
pass, and ho %veldd sign it; That he could do,
though he did'nt much write or read writhe.' The
pass was written and signed with the Dutchman's
hieroglyphics, and the pedlar went forth into the
bowels of the land, without impediment.' Some
six months afterwards, a brother Dutchman, who
kept store' farther down the Mohawk, in ' settling'
with the pious official, brought in, among other ac
counts, an order for twenty-five defiers worth of
goods. How ish dat said the Sunday officer.— ,
I never give no order; let me see him.' The or
; der was produced, he put on his spectacles, and ex
mined it. Yeas, dat lob mine name, sartin year,
but—it ish dat d—d Yankee pass P
A quaint writer of sentences in the Galaxy, says
I have seen women eo delicate, that they were
ufraid to ride, for fear the horse might run away--
amid to sail for four the boat might overset—afraid
to walk fur fear the dew might fall; but I never saw
ono afraid to be married l"