*tAt'... :; , 7,::...• .i.ii.it..:•:.-..ti.:#Xo-Ittitt4l. '''-.--..,-.::•••!!:,-''.4stOit:.*'.. VOL. 6--NO. 13.] Office of the Star & Banner : Chanthersbarg Street, a few doors West of the Court-House. CONDITIONS I. The STAB & REPUBLICA NPANNER ig published weekly, at Two Dot.t.Ans per annum, (or Volume of 52 Numbers,) payable half yearly in advance. H. No subscription will be received for a shorter period than six mouths, nor will the paper be discon tinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the dis cretion of the editor—A. failure to notify a discontinu ance will b , r.:•nsid..red a new engagement, and the paper forwurd••d accordingly. 111 Advertis.•mcntA not exceeding a square, will be inserted Till:FA , : times for ON II on LLA ft, and 25 cents for 'very subsequent insertion—longer (tuts in the same proportion. The number of insertions to be marked, or they will be published till forbid and char ged accordingly. IV. Co.utu inications, &c. by mail, must be pont paid—otherwise they will not meet with attention. T II E f: A It L t N 1). "With sweetest flowers eurich'd, From various qnrilens cull'd with care." FROM TUE Cif:TI'ITSIILTRG NIl F,ATR 'NIIO I'IIRJECTED A WITII4. TO A LADY Erat:lll CHAPLET. No ! Ludy no, think not I'd bind The brow with faded flowers; W ould I could set around it 'twined, A wreath from Paphos' bowers. Oh! did Italia's sonny vale, Yield to me roses fair, As ever kissed the passing gale, Lady, I'd place them there. For they would grace and well befit A forehead clear as thine, Which beams with thy soul's radiance lit, AVlient thought sits 'thron'd divine. How much would they resemble thee In meekness anttin truth, How much in spotless purity, In lovely, blooming youth. Hut they would fade, although they were In Eden•rcgions They'd wither, though they came to share Such beauty as thine own. The flu,h of life, and joy, and light, cloth thy cheeks suffuse, Could not preserve from death, or blight, There offspring of the dews. Rut there's a chaplet I would set, And fix upon thy head, Which would than all the others yet, A sweeter fragrance shed. 'Tis the green wreath of modesty, The crown that's virtue's claim— A Garland of the piety That beautifies thy name. It would illy in the morn Of life seem fresh and new, But would its warm noontide adorn, And its chill ev'ning te4. Yes, lady, it would live and glow In never fading bloom, And when the dust to dust would go, "rwould c.insecrate thy tomb. A/7 217.2U51NG TREAT. LNO. Iv.] JAPHET, IN SEARCH or A FATTIER. URO FROM OUR LAST It happened one market day that there was an over-driven, infuriated beast, which was making sad havoc. Crowds of people were running past our shop in one direction, and the cries of "Mad Bull!" were re•echoed in every quarter. Mr. Cophagus, who was in the shop, and to whom, as I have before observed, a mad bull was a Qource of great profit, very naturally looked out of• the shop to ascertain whether the animal was near to us. In most other countries, when people hear of any danger, they generally avoid it by increasing their distance; but in Eng land, it is too often the case, that they are so fond or indulging, their curiosity, that they run to the danger. Mr Cophagus,who perceived the people running one way, natu-. rally supposed, not being aware of the ex treme proximity of the animal, that the peo ple were running to see what was the mat ter, and turned his eyes in that direction, walking out on the pavement that he ►night have a fi►irer view. He was just observing, "Can't say—fear —um—rascal Ple f , git—close to him—get all the custom—wounds—contusions—and" —When the animal came suddenly round the corner upon Mr. Cophagus, who had his eyes the other way, and before he could es• cape, tossed him right through his own shop windows, and landed him on the counter.-- Not satisfied with this, the beast followed him into the shop. Timothy and 1 pulled Mr. Cophagus over towards us, and ho drop ped inside the counter, where we also crouch ed, frightened out of our wits. To our great horror the bull made one or two at• tempts to leap the counter; but not succeed ing., and being now attacked by the dogs and butcher boys, be charged at then through the door, carrying away our best scales on his horns us a trophy as he gallop ed out of the shop in pursuit of his persecu• tors. When the shouts and halloos were at same little distance, Timothy and I raised our heads and looked round us; and perceiv• mg that all was s ire, we proceeded to help Mr. Cophagus, who remained on the floor bleeding, and in a state of insensibility. We carried him into the hack parlour and laid him on the sofa. I desired Tiinothy to rim for surgical aid as fast as he could, while I opened a vein; and in a few minutes he returned with our opponent, Mr. Ebenezer Pleggit. We stripped Mr. Cophagus, and proceeded to examine him. "Bad case this--very bail case, indeed, Mr. Newland —dislocation of the os humeri—severe Con tusion on the os frontis—and I'm very much afraid there is some intercostal injury. Very sorry, very sot ry indeed, for my bro ther Cophagus." But Mr. Pleggit did not appear to be sorry; on the contrary, he ap peared to perform his surgical duties with the greatest glee. We -reduced the. dislocation, and then carried Mr. Cophagus up to his bed,. In an hour he was sensible, and Mr,• Pleggit took his departure, shaking hands with Mr. Co phagus, and wishing him joy of his provi dentin! escape. "Bad job, Japhet," said Mr. Cophagus to me. "Worse—um—no, nothing worse—not possible." "Why, sir, you might have been killed." "Pooh ! didn't mean that—mean Pleggit —rascal—um—kill me if ho can—sha'n't though—soon get rid of him—and so on." "You will not require his further atten fiance now that your shoulder is reduced. I can very wall attend upon you." "Wry t rue, .1a phot ;—but won't go—sure of that—damned rascal—quite pleased-1 saw it—um—eyes twinkled —smile check ed—and so on." That evening Mr. Pleggit called in, as Mr. Cophagus said that he would, and the latter slowed a great deal of impatience; but Mr. Pleggit repeated his visits over and over again, and I observed that Mr. Copha gus no longer made any objections; on the contrary, seemed anxious for his coming, and more so after he was convalescent, and able to sit at his table. But the mystery was soon di vuh , ed. It appeared th At Mr. Cophagus, although he was very glad that other people should sutler from mad bulls, and come to be cured, viewed the case in a very diftilrent. light when the bull thought proper to toss him, and having now realised a comfortable independence, he had resolv ed to retire from business, and from a site [(Heeded with so much danger. A hilt of this escaping when Mr. Pleggit was attend ing him on the third day after his accident, the latter, who knew the value of the locale, also hinted that it M r. Cophagus was inclin ' ed so to do, that lie would be most happy to enter into an arrangement with him. Self ' interest will not only change friendship into enmity, in this rascally world, hut also turn enmity into friendship., All Mr. Pleggit's enormities, and all Mr. Cophagus' shame• fill conduct, were mutually forgotten. In loss than ten minutes it was "My dear Mr. Pleggit, and so on," and "My dear brother Cophagus." In three weeks every thing had been ar ranged between them, mid the shop, fix tures, stock in trade, and good will, were all the property of our—ancient antagonist. But although NI r. Pleggit could shake hands with Mr. Cophagus for his . fixtures and good will, yet as Timothy and I were not includ ed in the good will, neither were we includ ed among the fixtures, and. Mr. Cophagus could not, of course, interfere with Mr. Pleg git's private arrangements. He (lid all he could'do in the way of recommendation, but Mr. Pleggit had not forgotten my occasion al impertinence on the battle of the bottles. I really believe that his all will against Timothy was one reason for purchasing the goodwill of Mr. Cophagus, and we were very gently told by M r. Pleggit that he would have no occasion for our services. Mr. Cophagus ()tiered to procure me another situation as soon as he could, and at the' same time presented me with twenty guin eas, as a proof of his regard and apprecia tion of my conduct—but this sum put in my hand decided me I thanked him, and told him I had other views, at present, but hoped he would let me know where I might find him hereafter, as I should be glad to see him again. lie told me he would leave his address with me at the Foundling, and shaking me heartily by the hand, we part ed. Timothy was then summoned. Mr. Cophagus gave him five guineas, and wish ed him good fortune. "And now, .laphet,what are you about to do?" said Timothy, as he descended into the shop. "To Jo," replied 1; "I am about to leave you, which is the only thing I am sorry for. I am going, Timothy, in search of my father." EL DOR "Well," replied Timothy, "I feel as you do, Japhet, that. it will be hard to part; and there is another thing on my mind—which is, I am very sorry that the bull did not break the rudimans, (pointing to the iron mortar and pestle,) had he had but half the spite I have against it, he would not have left a piece as big as a thimble. I've a great mind to save left a smack at it before I go." "You will only injure Nir. Cophagus, for the mortar will not then he paid for." "Very true; and as he has just given me five guineas, I will refrain from my just in dignation. But now, Japhet, let me speak to you. I don't know how you feel, but I feel as if I could not part with you. 1 do not want to go in search of my father par ticularly. They say it's a wise child that knows its own father—but as there can be no doubt of' my other parent—if I can only hit upon her, I have a strong inclination to go in search of my mother, and if you like my company, why, I will go with you—al ways, my dear Japhet," continued Tim, "keeping in my mind the great difference between a person who has been feed as an NI. D., and a lad who only carries out his prescriptions." "Do you really mean to say, Tim, that you will g o with me?" "Yes. to the end of the world, Japhet, as your companion, your freed, and your ser• vant, if you require it. I love - yoti,'Japhet, and I will serve you faithfully." "My dear Tim, 1 nm delighted; now I am really happy: we will have but one' purse and hut one interest; if I find good fortune you shall share it." "And if you meet with 111„Idck, I will share that too—so tote affitir is settled—and, as here come Mr. Pleggit'4 assistants with only ono pair of eyes between them, the the sooner we pack up the better." In half nn hour all was ready; a bundle each contained our wardrobes. We -do- :37 R0:3E7149 WHITE 1111:MIZTON, 337.13L1E1ZER AND PROPRIETOR. "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRIIPTION."-SHAKS. azatnuaatinteo ZP424 6 1 caillMazDflazo ai•JPai so. tuna. scended from our attic, walked proudly through the shop without making any ob servation, or taking any notice of our suc cessors; all the notice taken was by Timo thy, who turned round and shook his fist at his old enemies, the iron mortar and pestle; and there we were, standing on the pave ment, with the wide world before us, and quite undecided which way we should go. "Is it to be east, west, north, or south, Japhet ?" said Timothy. "The wise men came from the east," replied 1. "Then they must have travelled west," said Tim; "let us show our wisdom. by doing the same." "Agreed." Passing by a small shop, we purchased two good sticks, as defenders, as well as to hang our bundles on—and off we set upon our pilgrimage. I believe it to hen very general action, when people sot off upon a journey, to reek on up their means—that is, to count the money which they may have in their pock ets. At all events, this was done by Tim• othy and ine, and I found that my stock amounted to twenty-two pounds eighteen shillings, and Timothy's to the five guineas presented by Mr. Cophagus, and three half. pence which were in the corner,ot his waist- coat pocket—sum total, twenty-eight pounds three shillings and three halfpence; a very handsome sum, as we thought, with which to commence our peregrinations, and, as 1 observed to Timothy, sufficient to last us for a considerable time, if husbanded with care. "Yes," replied he, "but we must hus band our legs also, Japhet, or we shall soon be tired, and very soon weal out our shoes. 1 vote we take a hackney coach." "Take a hackney coach, Tim! we mustn't think of it; we cannot afford such a luxury; you can't be tired vet, we are now only just clear of Hyde Park Corner." "Still, I think we had better take a coach, Japhet, and here is one coming. I always do take one when 1 carry out medicines, to make up for the time I lose looking at the shops, and playing peg in the ring." I now understood what Timothy meant, which was, to get behind and have a ride for nothing. I consented to this arrange. me:lit, and we got up behind one which was already well filled inside. "The only differ-, ence between an inside and outside passen.: ger in a hackney coach, is, that the one pays and the other does not," said I, to Tim othy, as we rolled along at the act of parlitv ment speed of four miles per hour. "That depends upon circumstances: if we are found out, in all probability, we shall not only have our ride, but be paid into the bargain." "With the coachman's whip, I presume?" "Exactly." And Timothy had hardly time to get the word out of his mouth, when the, fine, came the whip across our eyes—, a little envious wretch, with his shirt hang ing out of his trowsers, having called out, Cut behind! Not wishing to have our faces, or our behinds cut any more, we hastily de scended, and reached the footpath, after having gained about three miles on the road before we were discovered. "That wasn't a bad lift, Japhet, and as for the whip I never mind that with cordu roys. And now, Japhet, I'll toll you some thing; we must get into a wagon, if we can find one going down the road, as soon 89 it is dark." "But that will cost money, Tim." "It's economy, I tell you; for u shilling, if you bargain, you may ride the whole night, and if we stop at a public house to sleep, we shall have to pay for our beds, as well as be obliged to order something to eat, and pay dearer for it than if we buy what we want at the cooks' shops." "There is sense in what you say, Titino• thy; we will look out for a wagon." "Oh ! it's no use new —wagons are like black beetles, not only in shape but in habits, they only travel by night—at least most of them do. We are now coming into long dirty Brantford, and I don't know how you feel, Japhet, but I find that walking wonder fully increase the appetite—that's another reason why you should not walk when you can ride—fbr nothing." "Well, I'm rather hungry myself; and, dear me, how very good that piece of roast pork looks in that window!" "I agree with you—let's go in and make a bargain." We bought a good allowance for a shill ing, and after sticking out for a greater pro portion of mustard than the woman said we were entitled to, and some salt, we wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and continued our course, till we arrived nt a baker's, where we purchased our bread, and then taking up a position on a bench outside a public. house, called for a pot of beer, and putting our provisions down befog© us, made a hear ty, and, what made us more enjoy it, an in dependent meal. Having finished our pork and our porter, and refreshed ourselves, we again started arid walked till it was quite dark, when we felt so tired that we agreed to sit down on our bundles and wait for the first wagon which passed. We soon heard the jingling of bells, and shortly afterward its enormous towering bulk appeared be tween us and the sky. We went up to the wagoner, who was mounted on a little pony, and asked him if he could give two poor lads a lift, and how much he would charge us for the ride. • "How much can you afford to give, meas. ters? for there be others as poor as ye." We- replied that we could r ive a shilling. "Well, then, get up in God's name, and ride as long as you will. Get up behind." "Are there many peoplo in there alrea dy?" said I, as I climbed up, and Timothy handed me the bundles. "Non," replied the wagoner, "there be nobody but a mighty clever poticary or doc tor, I can't tell which; but he wear an uncom mon queer hat, and ho talk all sort of doc tor stuff—and there be his odd man and his odd boy; that, be all, and there be plenty of room,and plenty o' clean stra'." , After this intimation we climbed up, and gained n situation in the rear of the wagon under the cloth. As the wagoner said, thiye was plenty of room, and we nestled into the straw without coining into contact with the other travellers. I' of feeling any incline.; tion to sleep, Timothy and I entered into conversation, sotto voce, and had continued for more than half an hour, supposing by their silence that the other occupants of the wagon were asleep, when we were interrup ted by a voice clear and sonorous as a hell. "It would appear that youare wanderers, young men, and journey you know not whith er. Birds seek their nests when the night falls--beasts hasten to their lairs—man bolts his door. 'Propria gum moribus,' as He rodotus bath it; which, when translated, means, that 'such is the nature of mankind.' 'Prihuuniur mascula dicas,' 'Toll me your troubles,' as Homer says." I was very much surprised at this address —my knowledge of the language, for I had studied the grammar with Mr. Brookes, told me immediately that the quotations were out of the Luin grammar, and that all his learning was pretence; still there was a nov elty of style which amused me, and at the same time gave me an idea that the speaker was an uncommon personage. I gave Tim othy a nudge, and then replied-- . "You have guessed right, most learned sir; we are, as you say, wanderers, seeking our fortunes, and trust yet to find them— still we have a weary journey before us.— 'Haystirs hora somni svmendum,' as Aristo tle !lath it; which I need not translate to so learned a person as yourself." "Nay, indeed, there is no occasion; yet am 1 pleased to meet with one who hath scholarship," replied the other. "Have you also a knowledge of the Greek?" "No, I pretend not to Greek." "It is a pity that thou hest it not, for thou wouldst delight to,comniune with the an cients. Esculapius bath these words—' As o/de r —offrnot t on—accapon—pasti—veni son,'---which I will translate for thee---'We ()Rev: find' what we seek when we least ex pect it."' May it be so with you, my friend. Where have you been educated? and what has been your profession?" I thought 1 risked little in telling, so I re plied, that I had been brought up as a sur geon and apothecary, and had been educa ted at a foundation school. "'Tis well," replied he; 'iyou have then commenced your studies in my glorious pro fegsion; still have you much to learn; years of toil, under a great master, can only ena ble you to benefit mankind as I have done, and years of hardship and of danger must be added thereunto, to afford you the means. There are many hidden secrets. ‘.Ut aunt Pivorum, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, Viro. rum,"—many parts of the globe to traverse, "Ut Cato, Vtrgilius,ftuviorum, tit 7ibria, Orontes." All these have I visited, and many more. Even now do I journey to ob tain more of my invaluable . medicine, gath ered on the highest Andes, when the moon is in her perigee. There I shall remain for months among the clouds, looking down upon the great plain of Mexico, which shall ap pear no larger than the head of a pin, where the voice of man is heard not. " Vacua, vo. dicta vocativi," bending for months towards the earth. "As in presenti," suffering with the cold—"frico quad fricui dat," as Euse. bins hath it. Soon shall I be borne away by the howling winds towards the new world, where I can obtain more of the wonderful medicine, which I may say never yet hath failed me, and which nothing but love to wards my race induces me to gather at such pains and risk." "Indeed, sir," replied I, amused with his imposition, "1 should like to accompany you —for, as Josephus says most truly, "Capiat pilluhe dam post prandium." Travel, is, indeed, a most delightful occupation, and I wodld like to run over the whole world." "And I would like to follow you," inter rupted Timothy. "I suspect we have com menced our grand tour already—three miles behind a hackney coach—ten on foot, and about two, 1 should think, in this wagon.— But as Cophagus says, "Cochlearija crus many summendush," which means, 'there are ups and downs in this world.'" "Hah!" exclaimed our companion. "He, also, has the rudiments."' "Nay, I hope I've done with the Rudi mans," replied Timothy. -- "Is he your follower!" enquired the man. "That very much depends upon who walks first," replied Timothy, "but whether • or no—we hunt in couples." "I understand—you are companions.— "Concordat cum nominativo numero et per sona." Tell me, can you roll pills, can you use the pestle and the mortar, handle the scapulp.,,,and mix ingredients?" I replied that of course I knew my profes sion. Well, then, as we have still some 'hours of night, let 'us now obtain some rest. In the morning, when the sun hath introduced us to each other, I may then judge from your countenances whether it is likely that we.may be better acquainted. Night is the time for repose, as Quintus Curtius says, "Custos, Los, fur atque sacerdos." Sleep was made for all—my friends, good night." Timothy and I took his advice, and wore soon fast asleep. I was awakened the next morning by feeling a hand in my trowsers' pocket. I seized it, and held it fast. "Now just let go my hand, will you?" cried a lachrymal voice. I jumped up—it was broad daylight, and looked at the human frame to which the, hand was an appendix. It was a very spare, awkward built form of a'young man, appa rently about twenty years old, but without the least sign of manhood on his chin. • His face was cadaverous, large goggling eyes, high cheek bones, hair long, reminding me of•a rat's nest, thin lips, and ears large al most as an elephant's. A more wo.begone wretch in Appearance I never beheld, and I continued to look at him with surprise. Ho repeated his words with an idiotical expres sion, "Just let go my hand, can't you?" "What business had your hand in my pocket?" replied I, angrily. "I was feeling for my pocket handker chief," replied the young man. "I always. keeps it in my breeches' pocket." "But not in your neighbor's, I presume?" "My neighbor's!" replied he, with a va cant stare. "Well, so it is, I see now—l thought it was my own." I released his hand; ho immediately put it into his own pocket, and drew out his hand kerchief, if the rag deserved the appellation. "There," said he, "I told you I put it in that pocket--I always do." "And pray who are you?" said I, as I looked at his dress, which was a pair of tight cotton drawers, and an old spangled jacket. "Me ! why, I'm the fool." "More knave than fool, I expect," repli ed I, still much puzzled with his strange ap pearance and dress. "Nay,.- there you mistake." said the voice of last night. "He is not only a fool by profession, but one by nature. It is a half-witted creature, whair.erves me when I would attract the t 'Strange in this world, that ry in the streets without being. N ' , 641 ) _;;;• '•ifolly will always, command a c : During this address I turned my eyes up on the speaker. He was an elderly looking person, with white hair, dressed in a suit of, black, ruffles and frill. His eyes were bril liant, but the remainder of his face it was difficult to decipher, as it was evidently painted, and the night's jumbling in the wa gen had so smeared it, that it appeared of almost every colour in the Isiinbow. On one side of him lay a large thrOcscornered cocked hat, on the other a little lump of a boy, rolled up , in the straw like a marmot, and still sound asleep. Timothy looked at me, and when he caught my eye, burst out into a laugh. "You laugh at my appearance, I pre sume," said the old man, mildly. • "I, do, in truth," replied Timothy. "I never saw one like you before, and I dare say. never shall again." "That is possible; yet probably. if you meet me again you would not know me." "Among a hundred thousand," replied Timothy, with increased mirth. "We shall see, perhaps," replied the quack doctor, for such the reader must have already ascertained to be his profession: "but the wagon has stopped, and the diver will bait his horses; if inclined to eat, now is your time. Come, Jumbo, get up; Phil otas, waken him, and follow me." Philotas, for so was the fool styled by his master, turned up some straw, and staffed the end of it into Jumbo's mouth. "Now Jumbo will think he has got something to eat. I always wake him that way," observ ed the fool, grinning at us. It certainly, as might be expected, did , waken Jumbo, who uncoiled himself, rubbed his eyes, stared at the cover of the wagon, then at us,and without saying a word, rolled himself out of the wagon after the fool. Timothy and I followed. We found the doctor bargaining for some bread and bacon, his strange appearance exciting much a -1 musement, and inducing the people to let him have a better r bargain than perhaps otherwise they would have done. He gave a part of the refreshment to the boy and the fool, and walked out of the tap-room with his own share. Timothy and I went to the pump, and had a good refreshing wash, and then for a shilling were permitted to make a very hearty breakfast. The wagon having remained about an hour, the driver gave us notice of his departure; but the doe. tor was no where to be found. After a lit tle delay, the wagoner drove oft; cursing him for a bilk, and vowing that he'd never have any more to do with a "lamed man." In the mean time, Timothy and I had ta ken our seats in the wagot, in company with the fool and Master Jumbo. We tom menced a conversation with the former, - and soon found out, as tho doctor had asserted, tnat he really was an idiot, so much so, that it was painful to converse with him. As for the latter, he had coiled himself away to take a little more sleep. I forgot to men tion, that the boy was dressed much in the same way as the fool, in an old spangled jacket, and white trowsers. Fur about an hour Timothy and I conversed, remarking upon the strange disappearance of the doc tor, especially as he had given us hopes of employing us; in accepting which offer, if ever it should be made, we had not .made up our minds, when we were interrupted with a voice, crying out, "Hullo, my man, 'can you give a chap a lift as tar as Reading, for a shilling?" "Aye, get up, and welcome," replied the wagoner. [WHOLE NO. 273. I The wagon did not atop, but in a moment , or two the new passenger climbed in., He I was dressed in a clean smock frock, neatly worked up the front, leather gaiters, and stout shoes; a bundle and a stick were in his hand. He smiled as he looked round upon the company, and showed a beautiful . set of small white teeth. Hik face wasdark, and sunbunit; but very handsome, anil his eyes as black as coals, and as brilliant-as gas. "Hey! player folk-I've a gotamot, said he, as he sat down, looking at , . the doe• tor's attendants, and laugh itig at us. "Have you come far, gentlemen'?" continued be..' "From "From London," was my reply. • "How do the .crops look up aboVe, down here thef turnips seem to have -failed altogether! Dry seasons won't do for tur.i . nips.' 1 replied that I really could not satisfy him on that point, as it was dark when we passed. "Very true—l had forgotten that," re plied he. "However, the barley's look well; but perhaps you don't understand farming?" I replied in the negative, and the con versation was kept up for two or three hours, in the course of which I mentioned the quack doctor, and his strange departure. • "That is. the fellow who cured so many people at —," replied he; and, the con versation then turned upon his profession and mode of life, which Timothy and I. a• greed must be very . amusing. "We Omit meet him again, I dare say," replied the man. 'Would you know him?" '•I think so, indeed," replied Timethy o laughing. "Yes, and so you would think that you would know a guinea from a hnlf.penny, if I put it into your hands," refilled the man.— "I do not wish'to lay a bet, and win your. money; but I. tell you, that I will put either' one or the other into each of your hands,- and if you hold it fast for one minute, and shut your eyes during that time, you will not be able to tell me which it is that you. have in it." • "That I am sure I would," replied Tim; and I made the same assertion. "Well, I was taken in that way at a fair, and lost ten shillings by the wager; now, we'll try whether you can tell or not." He took out some money from his pocket, se lected without our seeing, put a coin intcr the hand of each of us, closing our fists over it,-"and now," said he, "keep your eyes shut for a minute." • Wo did So, and a second or two afterwards' we heard a voice which we instantly recog. nised. "Nay, but it was wrong topic:two me on the way Ride thus, having sgreed to pay the sum demanded. At my age one walketh not without fatigue, "Excipenda tauten quadam.sunt :Miura," as Philostra• tus says, meaning, "that old limbs lose their activity, and seek the help of.a crutch." "There'. the doctor," cried Timothy, with hie eyes still shut. "Now open your eyes," said the man, "and tell me, before you opiin your hand, what there is in it." • "A halfpenny in mine," said Tim. "A guinea in mine," replied I. We opened our hands, and they were empty. "Where the devil is it?" exclaimed I, looking at Tim. "And where the devil's the doctor?" re.. plied he, looking round. "The money is in the doctor's pocket,' replied the man, smiling. "Then where is the doctor's pocket?" "Here," replied he, slapping his pocket, and looking significantly at us. "I thought you were certain of knowing him again.— • About as Certain as you wore of telling the money in your hand." He then, to our astonishment, imitated the doctor's voice, and quoted prosody, syn.. tax, and Latin. Timothy and I were still in astonishment, when he continued,. "If I had not found out that you were in want of employ, and further,that your services would be useful to me, I should not have made thia discovery. Do you now think that you know enough to enter into my service? It ia light work, and not bad pay; and now you may choose." "I trust," said I, "that there is'•no disc honesty?" "None that you need practise, if you are so scrupulous; perhaps your scruples may some day be removed. I make the most of my wares—every merchant does the same. I practise upon the folly of mankind —it is on that, that wise men live." Timothy gave me a push, and nodded hie head for me to give my consent. I mike. ted n few seconds, and at last I extended my hand. "I consent," replied I, "with the re. sorvation I have made.' "You will not repent," said ho;."and 1 will take your companion, not that I want him particularly, but Ido want you. The fact is, I wart a lad of gentlemanly address, ' and handsome appearance—with the very knowledge you possess—and now we will , say no more for the present. Bythe•by, : , V' was that real Latin of yours?" "No," replied I, laughing; "you quoted_ the grammar, and I replied with mediatil . prescriptions. One was as good as other." "Quite--nay, better; for the school.boya may find me out, but not you. But now, observe, when we come to the next cmsa. , , road, we must' get down—at least, I expect "r 4 so; but we shall know in atm:tete' fro us At a meeting of the Tesnpentneetkehtty of Mile End, London, the Rev. Mr. - Dri+ water wag properly appointed chairman"
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers