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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, January 03, 1869, Image 7

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K Sunday Edition. Jan. 3.
F [Original.l
TO KATJE.
By EAward Houseman.
Ohl Katie, the joys of delight
Reopen the wounds that you gave,
you’ll recollect ’twas such a night
That I felt all ardent and brave
To attack thy fortress of love; . .
Thy charms, then, did vanquish my heart,
Together we’ve reveled above—
From bliss angels ne’er depart.
Ohl the days when fleeting so gay;
Oh ! where are they ? for, in the past
'Twas sweet, then, at the close of the day
To dream, but too happy to last.
TVe mourn the bright days of yore,
When each flower spoke of a bliss,
iE’en then, as I ventured before,
As now, I steal a sweet kiss.
The throbs of thy heart I then felt.
Stealing a kiss off thy red lips
I ventured, and often I’ve knelt
And my love vowed, as the bliss sips
Her life from’ mercy so true.
Why should we part and dissever
The affection that love blew
Into one flame—be it never.
4-hd in the soft stillness of night,
When restless dreams wander away,
I think and I sigh; for how bright
Were the hours of love’s early day.
The joys we have known were so great,
We toyed, and we laughed, and we cried;
■ln you I found a sweet mate,
My love you never denied.
But short in this life is a bliss,
And passion, once ardent and pure,
is gone as quick as a kiss;
But to think I cannot endure
That the sighs of your heart are no more'
Kneeling to me, as your lover,
Bet love be to us as of yore;
Her faith, oh 1 let us not smother.
Now sweet be thy dreams, my own Kate,
And visions of purity dwell
Within thee, around us a fate
Has worn a fairy spell.
Despair, oh 1 may it ne’er seize
Thy heart, nor force thee away
From the groves where Cupid breathes
In songs his sweetest of lays.
[Original.]
NEW YEAR’S CALLS.
BY B-EIB DICKSON.
After mature deliberation, I have arrived at
She conclusion that people in this world put up
With a considerable quantity of infernal non
sense in ordor to please Mrs. Grundy. The in
fliction may not be so severe on others of the
two-legged race as on my poor self. A few may
J>9 found wandering up and down the earth
Who don’t care a single continental for this
.amiable female’s opinions, who “go it alone”
on themselves, with “ devil take the hind-
InOBt,” and who are generally looked upon as
eccentric and remarkable fools. Yet, I must
confess that Mrs. Grundy does hold a whip,
and i for one, always take care to beware of
Jhe lash, if I can, But people are formed in
different molds, as I infered before, and Mrs.
G.’s opinions may be “bigodd nonsense” to
Some, hot water to others. Take the following
faempZi gratia: Old Bugg is worth a few dry
goods boxes full of Chase’s antiaote for gold;
he dresses in a ten dollar suit, hat included ;
(he don’t care for any man or his brother; he
calmly, deliberately, and boldly walks into Del
monico’s and takes a drink, and don’t care who
Bees him.
b On the contrary, let us look at Squibbs.
Squibbs is a nice young man; he is devoted to
billiards and a girl in the Sixth avenue ; ho has
Sold his liberty during the day to a retail dry
'goods man, who has placed him under strict
moral rules. Squibbs, although enjoying a
Very small stipend, must dress well, act well,
S>e at the store at eight, leave at six, eats no
onions, and must noMake a drink. He must
. also be continually in a state highly approach
ing that of a poor fellow suffering in purgatory,
and whose earthly friends won’t buy him out,
lest his master, at the approach of hard times,
Mould take seventy-five per cent, from his
wages. Well, Squibbs has as good a right to
drink as Bugg, but he is afraid of Mrs. Grundy.
He stops near Delmonico’s, gives a searching
glance all around, and finding no enemy near,
bolts in; he cannot let the bourbon trickle
flown in a quiet manner, so that his parched
Stomach may be anointed and greatly re
freshed, as by law in such cases made and pro
vided, but he must bolt the mixture in an in
stant, and have tears in his eyes and a red face.
A survey through a half-opened door proving
the coast clear, he bolts for the store, and
thinks all the time that he is an ass.
On the evening of the 30th of December,
A. D. 1868, while I was enjoying a glass of ale
Slid a pipe, in came my old friend Squiggers.
r Squiggers and myself are clerks with Squeez
®m & Co.
/The object of the visit was to form a plan of
roperations whereby we could pass New Year’s
flay in a manner creditable to Mrs. Grundy.
■;. lam very sorry to say that Chase’s antidote
for gold was not largely represented at the
meeting ; nevertheless we found we could “go
8. small pile,” and determined to make that
“small pile” go as far as human ingenuity
DOuld make it go.
i And now to digress one moment. I solemnly
find religiously give it as my belief that when a
(man is poor in pocket, the day rainy or snowy,
thereby causing all his Satanic qualities to be
come fever heat, that New Year’s calls are a
humbug and a bore. I wish the old Dutch
scoundrels—whose only business in this world
was to grow fat, grow rich, smoke pipes and
talk in an unknown tongue—had been turned •
Into sturgeon before they invented this most
abominable thing. Squiggers and myself
Called at a livery stable and made a contract
With the keeper thereof, in the following form :
“ Should it rain on New Year’s day we were to
have some kind of an arrangement to hold two,
and with a horse m front; should it snow, we
Were to have a sleigh.” The keeper kindly in
timated a deposit of ten dollars, “so as to
Snake us Bure about the thing.” The money
■was paid. The night before the glorious day—
the last night of the old year, when all its
troubles and its cares were dying into history
by each ticking of the clock, when the old king
was growing dim with age and death, and his
successor stood impatiently stamping on the
threshold of the world; when my eyes were
dim with recollections of human flowers cut
off, of hard words spoken, while I was pon-
S ering in a rather sentimental mood upon the
iture, everything was actually knocked into a
>cked hat by the entrance of a demijohn, ac
pompamed by Squiggers. I was a man of the
World again.
ij Squiggerssaid “a man” had given him the
article. We concluded to investigate what
therein was, and its mystery explore,” and
After careful investigation thought it might be
ijwhisky. We partook thereof sevenal times,
And felt happy. Squiggers is a man of genius ;
Jie can borrow money and never pay it back.
His eye is like unto the eagle; if he observes
"a creditor two blocks off he slides into
another street and dodges him. Like all great
inen, he is often vexed with tjie petty minutiae
Of every day affairs, as for example, an ob-
. 'durate landlady addicted to a red nose, hairy
hash and prompt attendance on delinquents.
Squiggers has often told me that when he heard
knock at the door, he felt just exactly like
a man who in a short time expected to exhibit
(himself to the audience with a rope around his
‘tieck, and no ground under his feet.
i This distinguished son of old Squiggers is an
Astronomer. I am not quite sure whether ho
is acquainted with the names of the stars, but
as I frequently observe him with a glass ele
vated upward, I suppose that some time or
Other he will arrive at the cognomen of some
“ stars”—when they are carting him to the sta
tion-house for violation of the Excise Law.
But on this last day of the year Sixty-eight,
tho astronomer had taken so many observa
tions that he became decidedly star-struck, or
In vulgar parlance, drunk. I put him to bed.
Evil disposed people might insinuate something
about “ the bund leading the blind,” and try to
prove that I also was under the genial influ
ence of old Backus, because we both found our-
Helves in bed in the morning already dressed
including boots, but this I deny, for lemon
never did agree with me, and its smell always
•putsjme to sleep. In the morning I must ac
knowledge that Sixty-nine looked upon two
wealthy and beautiful infants.
ib After considerable scrubbing, dusting, brush
ing, and one or two eye-openers with our lordly
fcreakfast, we glanced out the window, and
found three inches of snow, upon which a lovely
lain was falling.
i We must therefore make our calls with a
■Wheel contrivance.
, “Three hundred and forty-nine calls to
Blake,” said Squiggers, “ and, as it is now nine
o’clock, I guess we had better travel for the
Stable.
We borrowed an umbrella, and sallied forth
Upon the mission of the day.
t “I don’t like that horse, said Squiggers to
she keeper of the place, “he looks too thin,
And he’s got a bad cold, give me another one.”
L Squiggers had always talked “horse,’
■Grant-like, and I supposed him to be au fait,
for I could not tell a horse from a mule. I
must confess to a little disappointment when
I viewed the turn out. The horse appeared to
took well, but the wagon appeared so much
like a doctor’s gig that I intimated to Squig
gers that people might presume us to be on
professional instead of friendly calls, and that
Other callers seeing the concern before the
floor might think there was a death in the
family. That luminary on the horse, however,
briefly toldme that it was “a grand old thing,”
ftnd that I had better get in.
lam not a nervous man, yet I will say, that
1 have always had a horror of a horse running
away and my poor self going head first at a
lamp-post; but what had I to fear when this
great man thoroughly versed in names, pedi
grees, and nature of horses sat by side.
Squiggers no doubt was a “fancy” driver for
he drove like Jehu, “furiously,” and whenever
we turned a corner we slid around on the off
wheels and it required all our exertions to keep
the darned old gig right side up. Squiggers
Also undertook to “bunk” several other car
riages, “just lor the fun of the thing,” he
eaid, but in one of these “bunking” enter
prises when he took off' a wheel from another
earriage, causing the establishment to topple
over and throwing out three men, and when
Bqmggers, very fed, by the way, commenced
«o lather up our horga sq as to get out of tire
way, I very excitedly protested against this
sort of thing.
“ For,” said I, “ suppose somebody was to
bunk us, what the devil would we do.?”
He acquiesced, and hoped in the future to
be able to restrain his race-course experience
and propensities. We made a number of calls
saw plenty of fine tarlton silk, and gingham
wrapped around fair women ; drank bad coffee,
lemonade, wine, whisky and brandy; eat
sponge cake, plum-cake, doughnuts, oysters
pickled, chicken salad and a number of sand
wiches.
The day outside was rather unpleasant, and
the forward part of our garments looked some
thing like clothes just taken from tho wash
tub ; but was not everything nice inside the
houses—plenty to eat and drink, and all for
nothing 1
Wherever we could spy a gin-mill, we called
and drank the health of tho proprietor m his
own liquor and free of expense. New Year’s is
a grand old day to have a grand old time at the
expense of other people.
We had made, at 3 o’clock, five hundred and
twenty-three calls, and felt rather jubilant.
We heartily commisserated the poor fellows
who were compelled to march through the
slush, bracing an umbrella, while we had “ a
thing on the road.” We afterward thought
ourselves superior to common pedestrians.
Here it was—the old idea—horse-legs to shank
legs. Now, although not > judge of horses, yet
iet I had sufficient discernment to see that our
east was becoming excited about something
t other. He would walk, run, gallop, go from
■b side of the street to the other, back the
1- for half a block, and then stand stock-still
Id snort. Squiggers said that we had been
in with the d d old horse, and that he
had the measles; “ but you just wait till we
get back to the stable, and I’ll bust the keep
er’s snout,”
Cail No. 524 was on Miss Gargle, in Forty
first street. Old Gargle, being in the liquor
business, of course had a fine spread. We
talked with Miss Gargle about the weather,
and how many calls we had made, drank wine
with her and brandy with her “pop,” and
bowed out.
The brandy and wino we had taken wore in
an instant turned to gall, for our horse " warn’t
thar.”
Looking up the street—some two blocks from
where we stood—we saw the gig, but no horse.
Hastening to the spot, we found the gig all
right, minus the whipple-tree and the leathern
straps on the shafts. We paid a boy fifty cents
to watch the concern while we went to look for
the animal. Squiggers went one way, I the
other. How I did curse that old horse, and my
assness in going with Squiggers,
I trotted up one street and down another ;
my bran new suit of clothes were muddy from
ankle to waist, one of my gloves was lost and
the sweat took all the starch out of my collar
and shirt, and yet I couldn’t see anything of
that horse.
Oh I I said what a fool I am to keep trotting
around this way; Squiggers has nabbed the
animal and is waiting for mo ; so I returned.
There stood Squiggers by the gig.
“Well, old fellow,” said he, “where did you
put him ?”
“ Put who,” I asked.
“ Why the horse, of course, what did you do
with him ?
There happened to be a lamp-post near
there, and I held it up.
“ Oh 1 Lord,” said Squiggers, “ we’ll have to
pay for that old brute, and its all your fault.
Why couldn’t you go and make calls like every
decent man, go on two legs. But no, you
must show your gentility and go in a turnout,
and this is the end of it.” '
“Squiggers,” said I, “you know very well
that you proposed and insisted on this thing,
and 1 was ass enough to take you up; and if
any blame is attachable why harness it on
yourself old boy.”
“Well,” said he, “there’s no use growling
about the thing. I’ll get in between the shafts,
and you get behind and push, and we’ll take
the old caboodle back to the stable. It must (
have been a fine sight to passers by to see J
Squiggers turned into a horse dragging that
blasted old gig, and your humble servant push
ing at the rear end.
1 think New Year’s day 18—, was decidedly
the worst day we have had this season. It
rained pitchforks, the ground was knee deep
with snow, mud and water, and the wind
rushed like mad around the corners. How I
wished I was home and in bed.
After we had hauled and propeled that gig
for over half a mile, we reached the stable,
where everybody grinned at us.
“ The horse run away and threw us out,” said
Squiggers.
The proprietor' informed us that he knew the
whole state of the case, and there was no use
in our lying about it; that we hadn’t fed the
horse all day, and he had started in search of
provender; that the horse had returned to the
stable, and was then there; that he would
charge us ten dollars for damage done to the
wagon ; and after we paid that he didn’t care
where we went to, but intimating something
about a warm region.
I can’t describe our sensation of relief when
we found that the old horse was all right, or
the downfall of our faces when the ten dollars
was mentioned; this we would not pay, and
did not; and we left the place after an hour’s
jaw, with two bull dogs barking at our heels.
We stumbled into my room, the worse for
lemonade, oysters, bad spirits, gig drawing
and soiled clothing. Squiggers seized the
demijohn and become au astronomer; I fol
lowed his example. Squiggers went to bed,
and I sat down to place my griefs on paper. I
have come to the following conclusions :
First: New Year’s calls are a humbug.
Second : Squiggers knows no more about a
horse than he does of an elephant.
Third: There is no fun in hauling a gig
through the streets on a slushy day.'
Fourth: That the best thing I can do is to
go to bed.
[Original.]
THE NAVAL HEBOES OF
THE REVOLUTION.
BY CHARLES I. BUSHNELL.
No. VIII.
COMMODORE SAMUEL TUCKER.
The subject of our sketch was the third child
of Andrew Tucker, a ship-master, and was
born in Marblehead, Mass., on the eighth day
of November, 1747. After receiving the rudi
ments of education, he was apprenticed to the
naval service. Being an apt scholar, he made
rapid progress in nautical science, and soon be
came noted as a thorough and accomplished
seaman. In 1774 he was placed in command of
the brig “ Young Phcenix.” and made a voyage
in her to Bilboa, and in the following year he
sailed in her to Charleston, 8. C., and thence
to the Isle of Wight.
On January 20th, 1776, he was appointed by
Gen. Washington captain of the Franklin, an
armed schooner in the service of the colonies,
and m the latter part of the year he was trans
ferred to the Hancock, a schooner in the same
service. His services having gained him the
esteem of Washington, our officer was partic
ularly recommended by that illustrious man
for au appointment in the navy, and on March
15th, 1777, Congress accordingly appointed him
a captain. On December following he was
placed in command of the frigate Boston, of
24 guns, in which ship he rendered essential
services to his country, capturing many valu
able prizes. In the month of February follow
ing he received orders to convey John Adams,
as envoy, to France, and on the 17th of the
month he proceeded to sea, bearing tho envoy
and his son, John Quincy Adams, as passen
gers. On her way there, the Boston had many
adventures, and met with several narrow
escapes. She gave chase to the enemy’s ships,
made some valuable prizes, and encountered
some violent storms. In the middle of one
fearful gale, a flash of lightning prostrated
three of her crew, and injured twenty more,
beside splitting tho main topmast. The frigate
reached Bordeaux, however, in safety, on April
Ist, and in consequence of the treaties of com
merce and alliance having been signed before
the arrival of Mr. Adams, that gentleman soon
returned in her to America.
On August 9th, 1779, Capt. Tucker, in com
pany with the U. 8. frigate Deane, Capt. Sam
uel ’Nicholson, captured the ship Glencairn,
from Glasgow, mounting 20 guns, and carrying
a crew of about thirty men; on the 12th he
made a prize of the Sandwich packet of 16 guns
and sixty men ; on the 23d, captured the brig
antine Venture, from Maderia, of two guns and
twenty men, and on the 24th of the same
month took the Thorn, of 14 gunsand one hun
dred and thirty-five men.
In the latter part of the year 1779, and at the
commencement of the succeeding year, the
Boston served as one of the squadron, under
Commodore Whipple, that cruised along the
southern coast, capturing a large number of
the enemy’s merchant vessels. On the appear
ance of the British fleet, she, with other ships
of the squadron, put into the port of Charles
ton, 8. C., for safety, and bn the surrender of
the city to the enemy, on May 12,1780, she was
one of the vessels that were captured by the
British. Capt. Tucker being the last to strike
his flag, a special order was sent to him by the
British commander to lower his colors imme
diately, This order he sullenly obeyed, with
the remark, “ I do not think much of striking
my flag to your present force, for I have struck
more of your flags than are flying in this har
bor.”
After the Revolutionary war, Commodore
Tucker engaged in the pursuits of agriculture.
In the war of 1812, with a wood shallop and a
small but resolute crew, he captured a British
privateer which had been infesting the coast
near his residence, on which occasion he dis
played the same gallantry and address for
which his early manhood was distinguished.
On the 2d of March, 1821, Congress placed
the name of Samuel Tucker upon the roll of
navy pensioners, and gave him two hundred
and forty dollars per annum, for life, commenc
ing from Jan. 1,1818, declaring in the same act
that he had, “by his bravery and long and
faithful services, merited the gratitude of his
country.”
Commodore Tucker died at Bremen, Me., on
the 10th of March, 1833, in his eighty-sixth
year. H,s remains were interred in a cemetery
in that town, and a plain slab was erected to
bis wemvry, btiuiug thu foUowwg ii»2pj>Uw; r
In M emoby of
OOM. SAMUEL TUCKER,
who d ed
March 10,1833.
A Patbiot of the Revolution.
The maiden name of Commodore Tucker’s
wife was Mary Gatchell. She was the daugh
ter of Deacon Samuel Gatchell, of Marblehead,
and was born on Nov. 30, 1752. She was mar
ried on Dec. 21, 1768, and died on Dec. 30,1832,
in her eightieth year. She had five children,
three of which 'were daughters. Her eldest
daughter was the only child that survived her.
The remains of Mrs. Tucker were interred by
the side of her gallant husband, and a slab
erected to her memory.
[Original.]
A TRIP TO CALIFORNIA.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
EY MICKAJELi
PART 11.
There is an insurmountable feeling in the
human heart which attaches us to the homes
of our youth. No matter where we may emi
grate to, and no matter what health and com
fort we may enjoy in a foreign laud, there is
still in the human breast an anxiety to return
to tho scenes of our childhood. Such had been
the case with the writer of this sketch. When
he left New York for California, in December
last, he was so broken down in bodily health,
from the sufferings of years of dyspepsia, that
it was with much difficulty he was enabled to
reach the steamer. But this trip to the Pacific
coast, with a residence in the salubrious and
bracing climate of San Francisco of four
months, have effectually|cured(him of that|terri
ble disease, and restored him to perfect health ;
and he now desires to make known to all simi
larly afflicted, and all those suffering from
sickness incurred by too close an application
to business, or the baneful habits of a sedent
ary life in the rigid climate of New York, that
if they go to California, and reside there for six
months, they will return in perfect health.
Having been perfectly cured of my old com
plaint—a companion that stuck faithfully to
me for years,—l made up my mind to return
home to New York.
Accordingly, I engaged my passage in the
splendid steamer Sacramento, for Panama,
and sailed from the Golden City at noon of the
21st of May, 1868. The steamer Sacramento
belongs to the Pacific Mail Company, and is
one of tho safest and most comfortable boats
of that line. The business of the company in
California is conducted by that estimable,
agreeable, and competent gentleman, Captain
Oliver Eldridge, a man highly respected and
beloved by the whole community in that coun
try—rich and poor, high and low. His charac
ter for integrity, uprightness and kindness, to
persons callng at his office, to engage passage
in the boats of the company, or for advice, ex
ceeds that of any other man, in that arduous
and responsible capacity, on the shores of the
Pacific.
The boats of this line have, from all accounts,
men to conduct their business who are pecu
liarly adapted for that particular employment.
From the very moment you pay your fare until
you land at your destination, you are treated
with the utmost civility, kindness and respect
by all the officers and men of the company.
The officers, sailors and waiters of the Sacra
mento are most deservedly entitled to this
laudable character. Her commander, Captain
Parker, is a most accomplished gentleman, an
amiable and humane officer, a strict disciplin
arian, and an able, thorough, and educated
navigator. Her other officers are equally
good. With such a captain, and such officers
and men, to guide our noble and beautiful
steamer, we anticipated a pleasant and pros
perous voyage of fourteen days to Panama.
First day from San Francico, weather quite
pleasant, thermometer 65, some sea-sickness ;
sailed 212 miles. Second day, pretty warm,
very little sea-sickness ; sailed 243 miles.
Third day, thermometer 80, all well on board;
sailed 244 miles. Fourth day, thermometer 85,
splendid scenery along the Mexican coast, pas
sengers enjoying themselves on the upper
decks; sailed 249 miles. Fifth day, scenery
unchanged, amusement ditto, thermometer 87;
sailed 257 miles. Sixth day, very warm, ther
mometer 90; 234 miles. This day, at BP. M.,
we put into Manzanilla, a small Mexican sea
port, 1.550 miles from San Francisco, and about
1,700 miles from Panama. Seventh day, ex
tremely hot, thermometer 95 ; sailed 228 miles.
Eighth day, same heat; sailed 176 miles. Put
imo the enchanting little bay of Acapulco at 4
A. M. Ninth day, same heat; sailed 213 miles.
Tenth day, excessively hot, thermometer 98;
sailed 224 miles. Reader, accompany me
through the spacious and magnificent saloons
and halls of this large ship at midnight, when the
thermometer is up to 100. Her splendid lamps
are kept burning all through the night, and
naught is heard throughout that model steam
er, save the cautious of the night watch
man, as he paces slowly in front of the main
saloon. The passengers, about five hundred
in number, are in the land of dreams. The
night is oppressively hot. Few, very few, in
deed, except the females are in their berths.
first proceed to the forward part of
the lower deck. The moon is shining down
upon us like a mountain of fire, encircling and
illuminating the entire scene. About two hun
dred human beings are scattered promiscuous
ly in this location, yet comfortably
and soundly sleeping on the smooth, clean
boards —some have pillows under their heads,
and many of them have none. The first we
meet is a group of Germans, lying so close to
gether that they evidently wish to avoid the
company of the people of other nations. They
repose contentedly, however, and are, perhaps,
at this moment visiting in their dreams the
homes of their childhood on the Rhine, or,
perhaps, anticipating the pleasure of,meeting
their wives and children again, spending their
evenings in some of the lager-beer gardens of
the Bowery. Next we pass are about twenty
brown-fisted Yankees—miners. They are just
from Virginia City, California, and carry with
them the earnings of some years in the mines.
Poor fellows! I fear from their dissatisfied
looks that gold digging is not now a very prof-,
itable employment, and from all indications
they did not realize what they had expected
when they left their homes on the hanks of the
Kennebec. Next wo pass is x a tall man, who
sleeps uneasily. His thin, haggard look shows
that he has the consumption in its worst form..
He is coming to the East to die. Poor fellow !
he suffered dreadfully during the voyage.
Death would be a happy occurrenco to him.
How pale and exhausted he looks. Next we
pass is a colored family, consisting of a father
and two grown sons. They sleep within a few
inches of their white fellow-citizens, enjoying
the benefit of their emancipation. They are
well-conducted and respectable people. * Per
chance thov are at this moment calling down
the blessings of Heaven on the great and mag
nanimous people of this country for taking off
the shackles that bound them and their fore
fathers for ages past. Truly they sleep the
sleep of freedom and happiness! Too long
had their brutal slavery been a stain upon the
character of the children of Washington. Next
we pass is a large company of mechanics and
laborers, representing all the nations of the
earth. They sleep contentedly, with their coats
under their heads for pillow’s. Their outward
appearance would denote that they had done
well in the Golden State. Next we*pass is a fat
Dutchman. He tumbles and tosses about on
the smooth deck like a porpoise in deep sound- ’
ings. He puffs and blows like the engine of an
old tugboat. Life must be distressing, indeed,
when waked in by such a mountain of living
flesh, as this moving body possesses- Yet he
slumbers, at intervals—rare intervals, however.
If lager has swelled this poor Dutchman to
that degree, I do not blame the government for
stamping it, as they do other poisonous fluids.
Good-night, Yakob. Pleasant dreams to you.
Tumble away, old boy. What do we pass next ?
It is an unfortunate fireman. He was brought
from the engine-room to-day in an exhausted
condition. He is dying. ' Poor fellow I how
piteously he moans. His comrade is taking
care of him. The doctor has no hopes of his
recovery. The canvas is already prepared to
receive his suffering body. His earthly troubles
are nearly ended. The life of a fireman on
board of a steamer m a tropical climate is truly
a hard one.
We next proceed to the mam saloon, and here
we find about one hundred and fifty males ly
ing on the richly-cushioned benches. A large,
costly lamp burns brilliantly at the entrance,
and shows to an admirable advantage the
faces of the unconscious sleepers. The first
bench is occupied by a large’ company of
Jews. They are returning from the Pacific
States, laden with wealth, the product of active,
persevering industry. They sleep soundly;
their thoughts, no doubt, are concentrated on
the amassing of more gold. The next bench
is filled by a number of pleasure-seeking gents,
looking decidedly, as far as their clothing and
features could judge them, dissatisfied with
their tour. Their uncomfortable, reclining
position, and their restless slumbers, plainly
tell their inward feelings ; while a lack of
cleanliness in their under-garments, and
thread-bare outward ones, show unmistakeably
that their wardrobes require immediate re
plenishing. The next bench is occupied by
German merchants, coming to the East, on a
visit to their families and friends. They re
pose soundly. Wonder if they fetched any
bottled lager or rhine wine in their haversacks ?
A Dutchman says there is nothing like lager
when the thermometer is up to luO. How those
fellows would open their eyes at this moment
were a person io shout “cool lager” into each
of their ears. Dear me, what an eye opening
would follow that announcement! The other
three benches in this saloon are occupied in
discriminately by Dutch, Danes, Norwegians,
Irish, English, Scotch, Mexicans, and other
persons of ail colors, and from all parts of the
Globe. We shall now proceed to the hurricane
deck, and here we see about one hundred per
sons, old and young, entirely unconscious of
everything passing around them. What a won
derful transition is sleep, and how bountifully
adapted to the health and comfort of man!
The first we pass is a group of some twenty
V/estern farmers. They rest composedly as in
dustrious workingmen always do. I have fre
quently conversed with them. They are prin
cipally from Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, and
have been a number of years in the mines of
California. The majority of th’em are taking
a luw&juuiq rewius fox tbejr U-
NEW YORK DISPATCH.
bora. From their hardy and muscular appear
ance, it is not to be wondered at, that the migh
ty forests of their native States had succumbed
to such iron frames. One of them has receiv
ed a dreadful sword wound in the left cheek.
It entirely disfigures his features, which evi
dently had been once handsome. They are all
Union men, and, perhaps, that this broken
down young man had received this ahno~t mor
tal gash in fighting for the preservation of this
great country. Next we pass is a row of He
brews, who to judgo by their clothing, are not
as well supplied with gold as their brethren of
tho first cabin. Next we meet with are a num
ber of Englishmen of the better class. They
are returning from Australia, after an ab
sence of several years from their native land.
The majority of them are government officials
and military pensioners. Their features and
clothing -would indicate good usage, and to
judge of them as they lie soundly sleeping, we
could not but infer that things had fared well
with them at the antipodes. England invaria
bly takes good caro of her hired satraps. Next
we pass' about a dozen of Mexicans or
Central Americans, for we can hardly distin
guish one from the other, except that the lat
ter are better dressed and always wear their
kids, even while sleeping. They frequently
jump from their repose, as if afraid of assassi
nation I Sleep on, you treacherous cut-throats,
you are now under the protection of the Stars
and Stripes, and shall be religiously protected.
Next we pass is a small group of Scotchmen,
(Scotchmen are not fond of rambling) their
tartan plaid night-caps plainly show their na
tionality. Their clothing and under garments
give clear evidence of empty wardrobes, and
that the sooner they visit the tailor Ad laun
dress the better. Their features wow® by no
means imply that they are of Celtic' origin.
They look vastly more like Danes or Norwe
gians, a numberjof whom are reposing right
at their elbows. They sleep comfortably,
however, and no doubt’will be able to give
a good account of themselves when they re
turn to the land o’ cakes. Next we pass are a
number of Danes and Norwegians—they are
coal miners—as the marks of eoal indelibly
stamped on their hands and faces would im
ply. Poor wandering strangers, truly they are
to-night far, far from their native homes.
They are probably at this moment visiting in
their dreams their humble hospitable cottages
in Northern Europe. No wonder that they
sleep uneasily.
Next we pass is a group of Irishmen. They
sleep soundly. Probably they are now ru
minating in their heated imagination, the en
slaved state of their native land, or visiting
their chained countrymen in the dungeons of
England, or, perchance they are fighting the
redcoats on the hills of Tara or Clontarf.
Next we meet with are about twenty New
Yorkers. They lie careless in a simicircular
position. They seem to love each other’s com
pany, although they are continually quarrel
ing when they are a wane, yet they never come
to blows. They use their hats tor pillows.
They are principally workingmen and many of
them are returning to the East on a visit to
their friends. They are well clad and seem as
if the Golden States of the Pacific had done
well for them. As is usual with men from
their city they occupy their time on board, ex
cept when sleeping, arguing tne political state
ot the nation. They represent all the politi
cal parties of tho country and likewise tne va
rious factions of New York, from a Tammany
Copperhead to a Mozart Soft-Shell. Many of
them, however, belong to the Republican
creed. Those, of course, aie for the immedi
ate ejecting of Andy Johnson from the White
house. An opposite few were for nominating
him for our next President. Others were for
running Fernando Wood or the Hon, John.
Morrissey, while two crazy Barnburners from
the bloody Sixth went heart and soul, for
nominating Jeff. Davis as our next Chief Ma
gistrate.
Next wg come to, in an isolated corner of
the deck, is a company of Italian street musi
cians and Bavarian ballad singers ; about fif
teen in number. A tall, brown featured wo
man of middle age, accompanies the musical
gipsies. She sleeps between two small boys—
probably her sons. Unfortunate little travel
ers, you look miserable, and your mother looks
dejected and careworn. • No doubt, they are
now visiting in their thoughts, the far-famed
lakes and rivers, and the incomparable pic
turesque hills, dales and mountain peaks of
their native country. The entire party appear
dissatisfied and poorly clad, telling plainly
that our brethren m California are not great
admirers of' the harp and tamborine. Sleep
on, poor, rambling foreigners, you have one
thing io console you, and that is, that the God
of the rich and prosperous is also your God,
and although your earthly privations are
greater than theirs, you shall be their equal in
Heaven.
Next we pass, near the main hatchway, six
unfortunate Chinamen. They are deck hands
on board, and perform all the drudgery of the
ship. Degraded creatures, has the Almighty
created you after His own image, and yet per
mits you to be used by your fellow-men far
worse than the beasts of burthen ? They lie
entirely exhausted from the severity of their
work. No one has mercy on them—all hate
them. The white man detests them and the
black man despises them. Ere long they will
be exterminated by the people of California.
They are at this moment kicked and cuffed
about tn San Francisco far worse than the stray
dogs of that city. A storm is evidently brew
ing over their devoted heads, and before many
months must burst upon them with dreadful
popular fury. They are a quiet, unoffending
people, but they work for one-third the wages
of a white man, and hence the cause of the an
imosity existing between them. Their expul
sion, therefore, from the Pacific States is inev
itable.
Eleventh day, latitude 11° 16'N., longitude
89° 32' W., thermometer 95 ; sailed 224 miles.
Twelfth day, thermometer 98 ; sailed 219 miles.
Thirteenth day, thermometer 98; sailed 249
miles. This day passed the island ot Mon
tuoso, 2,972 miles from San Francisco, and 308
from Panama, and thirty miles further on we
passed a large group of beautiful islands.
Fourteenth day, thermometer 100; sailed 240
miles, into Panama. Beautiful Panama! para
dise of the Pacific 1 There is not, however, an
island in the Pacific ocean that does not resem
ble some fairy continent; but those within the
bay of Panama seem the Eldorado of them all.
After a few hours’ delay at Panama we crossed
the isthmus to Aspinwall, where the steamer
Rising Star lay awaiting our arrival. We sailed
that night at 12 o’clock for Now York, and made
until next Jay at noon 112 miles. Second day
from Aspinwall, thermometer 90; sailed 204
miles. Third day, thermometer 85; sailed 214
miles. Fourth day, sea rough and stormy,
thermometer 90; sailed 258 miles. Fifth day,
passed the Bahamas, thermometer 80; sailed
285 miles. Sixth day, passed Cuba, thermom
eter 85; sailed ’290 miles. Seventh day, ther
mometer 75; sailed 255 miles. Eighth day, up
to noon, we. sailed 296 miles, leaving the dis
tance from here to New York 59 miles. We ar
rived in New York early in the evening of the
eighth day, thus finishing our journey.
KorE.-The writer of the foregoing sketch is now pre
paring for the prese a brief nariativo ot the wonders and
superior climate of California, in which will be described
tho Yosemite Valley, a work of nature without a paral
lel on earth. He will also showto those seeking pleasure
or health the difference between crossing the stormy
and dangerous Atlantic to visit the crowded cities of
Europe and a voyage on the calm and invigorating seas
from Mew York to California; and the difference between
the climate of the Pacific States, for pleasure and the
restoration of health, and the severe and unhealthy at
mosphere of the greater part of Europe.
EXCISE TRIALS.
The trials at the last session of the Board
■were of the same uniform stereotype character,
that is, officers discovering violations of the
law, and how they came to do it, generally
watching unusuel numbers of people going in
nd coming out of places. Tho truth of this is
shown in the very first trial that occurred be
fore the Board—that of McKenna & Duffy, No.
495 Sixth avenue. Officer Evans was the com
plainant. Here is a specimen of the examina
tion : Q. —What did you see ? A.—-Bottles on
the counter. Q. —-Behind it? A.—Yes. Q.—
How did you get in. A.—l rung the bell, and
Duffy’s clerk came ; I saw the door open after
hearing a scuffle and went in. Q.—Could you,
swear drinking was going on there. A.—No;
but I saw half a dozen go in the place; whether
they went in there or went up stairs I couldn’t
say. Q.—How long did you stand at the door ?
A.—Fifteen minutes. Mr. Lincoln.—He has
the reputation of selling on Sundays. Defend
ant.—An officer can give a place a reputation
to suit himself; 1 can’t stop him. Moro
running fire like the above took place,
when the Board took a vote on the ques
tion, and decided not to revoke the license.
In the case of Harvey Feste, No. 120 East
Broadway, the officers were altracted by a girl
coming out with something under her shawi.
Hardy and Powell, the officers went in the
place, asked for whisky and got it. Three mon
were in there at the time. The defense was
that the place was going under repairs and
the officers, who looked like workmen, got the
liquor by mistake. The license was not revoked.
Jonn Kirkwood, No. 616 Grand street, keeps an •
oyster place. The officer asked for bourbon,
and got it. The’defense was, that the bar
keeper, without the proprietor’s knowledge, had
a private bottle of his own, and violated the
trust reposed in him by his master, and the law
at the same time. The violator didn’t happen to
be the regular bar-iunder ? leaving the Board
to infer that he was a Sunday “ special.” The
license was not revoked. In this case, Dr.
Stone said the revocation was pretty near, and
he didn’t like such dirt. Judge Bosworth said
he did not like the reflection of one judge on
the other. Officer Burns, who said he was a
judge of liquor, went into the store of Wm.
Higgins, No. 87 West Twenty-fourth street.
He called for gin, and got it; another man m
tnere called for bourbon, and got it. There was
no defense as will be seen by the following:
Judge Bosworth—Do you allow your bar-keeper
to open your place and sell liquor ? Higgins'—l
do. (Laughter.)
Judge Brennan—l move an adjournment of
the case; he evidently doesn’t know what he
says. He has convicted himself. I don’t think
the man understands himselfi License re
voked.
Mathias Pranhagen, No. 9 Howard street, had
no defense. Twenty-five men were seen to
come out of his place within ten minutes on
Sunday at mid-day. Officer Bidwell said ho
often overlooked a violation of the law on Sun
day. The defeodent, after being sworn, hadn’t
a wftto a»y, wheu ths lisenge was revofcsd,
The Board revoked the following licenses :
James Miller, No. 188 Hester street; William
Higgins, No. 87 West Twenty-fourth street;
Mathias Pranhag&n, No. 9 Howard street.
They dismissed a number of cases where
complaint was made by citizens, the accusers
failing to appear to prosecute.
HATTIE.
By George W. Howes.
Raven tresses rippling downward
O’er a breast of spotless white,
Eyes that flash and gaily twinkle
’Neath the Summer noon-day’s light.
Little feet that blithely patter,
Echoing o’er the marble floor,
A merry face demurely waiting,
Longing for me at the door.
Lips like peaches, half repelling,
Half inviting to delight,
Cushioning on the teeth of coral,
That shimmer ’neath the rosy light.
A voice, whose gush of tender music
O’erflows with melody the air,
A breath, whose fragrance breathed upon me
Is like sweet spices rich and rare.
This Hattie, pretty Hattie,
Hattie merry all the day,
Hattie, with the raven tresses,
Hattie, with the eyes of gray.
©wi WM&j
The new-born year incites to wakening thought
Of what we’ve been, and yet are like to be;
It is a time with deep reflection fraught,
That presses home grave thoughts on you and me.
It is almost here as we sit down to compile
the gossip for another week, and ere we reach
the reader, a New Year will have been ushered
in. To many, such reflections may have a som
bre hue, as teaching
“How all our best laid schemes have come to naught.”
But it is a time that affords occasion for all
sorts of good resolutions. New habits are to be
formed; little vices that have been allowed to
fasten on the character, are to be knocked off
like barnacles on the bottom of a ship; moral
charts should be laid down, and a fair start
made on the voyage of reformation. But reso
lution, though strong at first, grows feeble
and then treacherous, and at last caving-in
habit gets the reins and runs riot till excess
brings repentance, and feeble resolution enacts
the farce once again in the New Year. But
pleasure is the goal we seek, and we start on
the pursuit with good resolutions and firm
hope, remembering that though
“ ’Tis not in mortals to command success,”
we may do more—deserve it; and with this
profound apothegm, we invite attention to a
few reflections about
TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF.
Once a twelve«month every human,
Be he man or be she woman,
Gives a grand blow-out, and glorifies
In lustiings of’ good cheer;
Perhaps to show their gladness •
At dispeling of the sadness,
And the folly and the badness,
Ey which, ad. were driven to madness,
In the just departing year.
Then the wearers of fine muslifig,
And the riff-raff join in guzzling,
And e’en the sans cullottes go in
To have a general feed;
And him that as a winner
Ata raffle happens in a
Fix so bad that for his dinner
He can’t have his “bird” and fixings,
Must be very poor indeed—
A fact on which by this I hope
We’re nearly all agreed.
But when with feast and frolic
We are surfeited, and colic,
And rheumatics melancholic
Make us feel, while wine and beer
Cause our heads to throb methodic,
And our pulse to beat spasmodic,
And our corns grow chiropodic
From much walking, making calls,
To hail the glad New Year,
Repentant, we resolve to turn
A fresh leaf now and here.
Last year the taxes weighed us down.
Says Uncle Sam, says he,
A new leaf then I’ll turn for you—
Peace brings prosperity;
And not to be behind, and show
We’ve cash and credit still,
We’ll buy up Cuba, and a few
Odd States about our sill;
And Mexico, who’s short of cash,
May let Sonora slide,
And if there’s weal th within her mines,
My boys, we’ll ali divide.
But rail and mail contractors,
Those alleged great malefactors,
Must give up each naughty practice,
And the chaps that on the sly
Cheat the revenue grow virtuous,
Or where the cash to purchase
All these luxuries is to come from,
Would puzzle you or I
Let alone my Treasurer, Spinner,
To economize who’ll try.
•And, unless the Fates forbid it,
The T roasu'.-y we’ll rid it
Of the harpies who have kept the country’s
Paper under par,
And return to specie payments.
Cast our “ shoddy ” for fine raiments,
Pay in full all honest claimants,
And forget the horrid war,
While our nation’s rivals soon shall seo,
We’re stronger than before.
Last year we lived, my wife and me, K
Upon an income that should be
Enough to keep in luxury
A couple like us two,
But, having made by Erie shares
A little pile, she now declares
The “ shabby things ” that still she wears/
Will never, never do;
Nay, more, the house in /which we dwell
We must beneath the hammer sell,
And build a frescoed marble shell,
That all our wealth may view,
And so, though much against the grain,
It goes, our grandeur to maintain,
I apprehend I must again
A new leaf turn, for ’tis most plain
The old book holds too few.
Says Scrooge, I’ve ’mong my tenants found
A wretch who makes the whole year round
A profit on his goods—adzound 1
A new leaf I must turn,
And where I barely got before
Its value from each house and store,
For rent I’ll ask a thousand more—
That’s what I think they’d earn;
While brooding o’er his wretched lot,
And what his happier friends have got,
Of things much needed he has not,
Sol Scattercash resolves
This year to turn a new leaf, too,
And from Fate’s iron grasp to screw
A surplus that will bring him through,
As hand of Time revolves.
Your Bolus is a grim “ old bach.,”
Who oft lays eggs that never hatch,
And sometimes thinks the aged scratch
Is in his backward luck ;
So, though his income ne’er sufficed
To keep him only, he’s enticed
A spinster, and they’ve just been spliced—
To turn the leaf he’d pluck.
And so, whereer we go, we hear
The rustling of new leaves, ’tis clear
The worthy folk, both far and near,
Are at the self-same task,
And ii the half that most require
Be granted, straightway in the fire
We’ll cast what once provoked our ire,
Nor greater favor ask.
The constant and complacent Tilly Burton
sends us some “good words” expressive of
sentiments which the Boss, and gossipers
generally we believe, heartily reciprocate, and
to all whom it may concern we commend
TILLY’S EPISTLE.
Dearly Beloved Gossipers: Once more we trip Into
your “fairy circle,” and settle ourself down for a
cosy chat with you all.
As this is our New Year meeting, we bring with US
some little gifts for the good Gossipers.
For that jolly wag, J. W. B„ we have some more
cold “ sassages,” well seasoned with cayenne, and if
they don’t induce him to shed tears, it’s because
he’s such a dry old “ ouss.”
For Brother Kahn we bring a bright scarlet mou
choir, bordered with yellow, with his name on the
same, in green letters.
Ma belle Pertie, where are you ? Here is a huge
paper of sweet, rosy “kisses” for you, darling. Ah 1
Pert, we are very much afraid that some soft-tongued,
dove-eyed, ear-tickling, love-whispering miscreant, of
the masculine gender, is stealing your affection away
from us. Don't give up your freedom yet, pet, for
in contemplating matrimony,
“ ’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,**
And once the knot is tied, you can't undo.
For gentle “ Caudle’s Niece” we have a big pot of
tar and a bag of feathers, which we hope she wiU not
hesitate to use freely, whenever the Gossip boys give
her “ sass.”
Marcio I Marcie 1 Where ts Marcie ?
Here’s a pair of skates for you—
Magic skates, and strange ones, too;
When they’re on (the truth I*ll tell),
They will skate you down to—well—
Tilly B. might “iall from grace”
■lf she named the naughty place.
When you grow tired of skating on the cold, cold
ice of the upper regions, we advise you to take a turn
on that loiver lake, which is known as the great
Satanic Rink. Here’s your skates, mon frere ; but
don’i put ’em on till you go below, bacause the Beelze
bub Ciub skate ain’t fit ior any rink save the Satanic
Bink.
John Smith, art thou “ a false creation, proceeding
from a heat-oppressed brain?” We bring a pair of
bran-new unmentionables for you, old boy, of that
peculiarly refreshing color “artists so delight in.”
Why, John Smith 1!
“ Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness ?”
Wait till you get home, and then try ’em on, John.
And now for our genial, good-natured Boss, who
strangely comes last, but not least. As he turns
round to “question the ‘devil’s’ suggestion” about
“ copy,” we crown him with an olive wreath, wish
ing, as we do so, that he may be as long-lived and
thrifty as the tree from which we made this garland,
and that his offspring, like these olive leaves, may
generally come in pairs. Having done our best to
piease you all, we think we may sign ourself
Yours, complacently,
Tilly Bubtoit.
The curious corruscations of J. W. 8., this
week, are on a subject with which, jiq ja uumis'
. Uk&bly Be qx
WHISKY.
lam a judge—not a judge that wears vermin, but
a judge of whisky, and having made it a study for a
number of years, at the earnest request of the mem
bers of the “ Old Barnum’s Morning Dew Society,”
I have concluded to give the community in which
we dwell, my views on the subject—to commence:
All the human race are born before they are a year old,
and being born so young everything they know, ex
cept feeding and yeliing like the devil, has to be
learned after they get here. Well, some fine day
the mother has a hankering after a walk and a look
at the Grecian bends in the street, and she can’t
leave her young ’un very well because it is yelling
loud enough to take the hair off the figure head of a
canal boat, so she resorts to strategy. She pours
down its volcanic throat paregoric enough to set a
“ biled” lobster kicking, and thus she soothes the
little brat to sleep; day after day, she repeats this
process, and thus the child acquires a taste for
“ licker,” and it is not surprising that when he grows
tip he has a desire for whisky, and the same mother
who dozed him with paregoric in his infancy will tell
him every time he takes a tea spoonful of whisky
that he is going to fid a drunkard’s grave. Secondly,
I have tasted of,| whisky on a multitude of occa
sions, and the tastejis no; disagreeable, but after a
diaretic research of its philosophical effects and a
careful investigation of its effects upon the physico
logioal organization of the human system, I have
come to the conclusion and am able to proclaim as a
fact that too much of it, whether taken as a medicine
or as a drink, will make a man drunk. Whisky is
one of the best of all the squeezed juices extant; to
get the juice of the grape, “ spiles” the grape for that
season; but the juice of the corn raises corn again
it is the cheapest food to get “ tite” (vulgar) on
known; in ono sense it is a blessing, because if a man
must get “tile,” (vulgar phrase,) the cheaper that he
can do it the better; so the balance of his earning
can be wasted ior bread for his family. It takes more
or less to get some folks drunk, and some take even
more than that, and this reminds me of an old nan
ny goat I heard some years ago when I was Chairman
of the United States Senate. One noted Senator
“ pinting” to another noted Senator, exclaimed:
“ There is my friend , who can bring an argu-
ment to a “ pint” quicker than any man I know of.”
The other noted Senator sprang to his feet, and
with lofty eloquence replied:
“ Yes, sir, and my friend can bring a quart of
whisky to a pint quicker than any man I know of.”
Thus you will see that some folks can stand a good
deal. When whisky is imbibed into the system, it
affects the whole vital organization of the body ; it
passes down the thorax with a burning sensation,
like you’d swallowed warm “biled” water; thence
through its natural conduit, the intestine canal, to
the mucus membrane of the “ stomick,” which, if it
is in a sporax condition, will be warmed up with a
warmth inexpressible. The whisky mixing with the
chewed food, biled tripe, mince pie, five cents worth
of peanuts, and-so-forth, will commence to fume,
and the gastric juice in its endeavors to repel this
foreign substance of domestic manufacture will cause
the fumes to arise, and they will pass upward through
the membraneous tissue back of the ears to the spi
nahmarrow of the brain, and this affects the head,
snd it commences to revolve, and thusly a gentleman
becomes inebriated, a man in comfortable circum
stances, intoxicated, a man in uncomfortable circum
stances, tite, and a loafer, drunk.
3dly. In conclusion, I desire to state that whisky
will hurt no one if they will let it alone. One “ tod ”
per diem won’t do; that is “played out.” If you
want to make a first-class drunkard, just swear that
you won’t take but one “ tod” a day, and then just
wait and see how that “ one tod a day” will grow.
In writing this article I am only doing my duty, and
my main desire is to save a young and interesting
member of our Gossip Club from destruction. He
came to us a stranger, and “we took him in,” and
he called himself “ Kahn,” For a while he behaved
himself very well; but judging from the article he
wrote us last Sunday, I have concluded that the
most charitable construction we can put upon it is
that he was drunk; and hence this article on whisky.
If it saves him, I shall be happy. I Lave done my
duty; and if he gets hauled up at the Tombs some
fine morning and gets stuck ten dollars for being
drunk, he needn’t appeal to me for the monev.
J. W. B.
Boss, I see “ Caudle’s Niece” is around, and trying
to make up with us fellows. Her talk about the New
Year is really affecting, and I am most a good mind
to forgive her for her sins of old ’6B, but I guess I’ll
wait a while and see how she acts after young ’69 has
got well agoing. J. W. B.
. One of our merry gossipers has been at the
pains to put an old story in a new and hand
some setting, and sent his verses to us, where
in he discourseth of the famous fable of the
THE ASS AND THE SAGE.
Far off in Eastern lands, where suns kiss olive and
the vine,
Where nutriment consists of dates, honey, and spark
ling wine,
Where Paradise, as Bible lore informs us, had a place
Ere Adam in the garden Binned and fell from virtue’s
grace,
A kingly kingdom there was built, ruled by wisdom,
power
And happiness—a bright place had as each fleeting
hour;
The king was wise as kings are oft, and yet there was
a vein
Filled not by blood, an empty vein for which there
was no name.
Among his household large and grand a weather sage
had he
As wise as sages are presumed, and yet in a degree
His prophecies sometimes did fail; and who is ever
wise ?
’Tis human here sometimes to err, and why create
surprise.
The king, as kings are often wont, to kill their ennui
Bethought himself one pleasant day, aa presently
you’ll see,
With his large train of knightly friends to have a
pleasant time;
To chase the deer in forest wild—to which all voices
chimed.
Yet, ere he went, he called to him his friend the
weather sage,
The tide and times then to consult, the weather to
presage.
“ Good king,” the sage he spake, “if signs in heav
ens tell,
This day with pleasantness and fun o’er royal feast
will dwell.”
Soon upon the highway the horse and masters go;
The trumpet blows a merry strain to cheer the king
ly show;
The hounds bound forth as quick as clouds are driv
en by the wind,
And soon they leave the courtly train in distance far
behind.
Upon the road the king he met a countryman upon
An ass old as Methuselah. The king, to have some
fun,
Inquired of this man how the weather stood.
“ Good sire,” said he, “ the skies are covered with a
hood;
Bain it will ere many hours. The king he laughed
aloud,
Which shook his little belly—to jest he ne’er was
proud.
Alas 1 to rain it soon began. The train returned to
court.
The king in a humor bad, and out of all sorts,
Sends forthwith the countryman to find. “My good
man,” said he,
“ How could you tell the weather, pray ?” «Oh I no,
it was not me ;
But my grey ass he pricked his ears, and then aloud
he brayed.
Thus did I know it soon would rain,” the country
man thus said.
The king in towering passion calls the sage to his
side.
The sage, known as a man of letters, near, far and
wide,
Grants him a leave of absence perpetual from the
court,
While instantly in the sage’s place the ass he is
brought.
And here the king made a mistake, (alas! who does
not do):
To place the ass in such a place, to wear the sage’s
shoe;
And from that time (alas! too true) an ass he e’er
applies
To fill position, church.or state ; and, to our great
surprise,
How many find we in a place, when wisdom, learn
ing, skill,
Stands shivering in the cold, cold world—no good
heart that will
Extend its hand. Alas! the time the king made such
mistake,
To place an ass in office; then with wisdom bread to
break.
Our Western correspondent, “ Spot,” sends
the following reminiscent sketch, entitled
MY SCHOOL AT BUZZLETOWN.
Dear Boss:—Did you ever “teach the young ideas
how to shoot ?” If you did, I pity you. I came here,
to Buzzletown, on Skunk Creek, with the avowed
purpose of accomplishing the above thing; but I
found that the “ijees” could shoot already—such
thingsas tater guns, paper wads, etc.
This is the allfiredest school you ever saw, and
such a house I Built of logs, pigeon-tailed, and a
slab roof, and no chimney. We build a fire in one
corner of the room, and let the smoke get out the
best way it can. The schoolhouse wherein I apply
the birefi is romantically situated. It is built on a
hill, and fronts upon a swamp of about two acres,
more or less, (a little less, I think,) among the vege
tation of which are swarms of nature’s most exqui
site handiwork—musketoes. It is so pleasant, I can
assure you, dear Boss, to wend your way to your
couch, after school is over for the day, through the
aforesaid swamp, and millions of the above-named
musical insects buzzing in your ears.
The names of my scholars corresponds with this
delightful country. There is Johnny Fleabug, a
smart, cross-eyed, carrot-headed fellow, who spells
OX with two X’s. He is a good boy, but he has a se
vere attack of wad-shooting. I have given him about
forty feet of good swamp hickory, but it seems to
have no effect upon him. I think I shall give him an
opportunity to play poker. It is a game he will take
great delight in, I am sure.
Next in order is Anatasia Smasher, a girl of about
ten years of age. She loves Johnny Fleabug. I have
often caught them going through with the kissing
operation; and have gave them a birching for it.
While I was administering stem justice to Anatasia
the aforesaid Johnny was standing in my rear mak
ing faces at me. Of course he caught it.
1 would give a detailed description of my scholars
but it would be too tedious. I just wish you, my
most learned Boss, could visit me at the desk. I fear
that this winter I will have to call assistance to help
me apply the rod. Will any of the gossipers leave
their stations and help me ? What is Pert driving at
now? What Marcie? If they were with me the
Buzzletown school would improve; there would be
less broken windows and more broken backs.
Some weeks ago I adopted a new system in the
school, the result of which some of my pupils will
remember to their latest day. Whenever I caught
any of them whispering I threw at them whatever I
could lay my hands on. I hurled my inkstand at the
tow head of Sam Guzzle. It struck just above the
left eye, and the blood flew most beautifully. It was
a crack shot. Sam was quiet for an hour. Scarcely
had the blood been washed from the young rascal’s
forehead, when I detected Joe Bigler preparing to
throw a paper wad at! his fifth cousin, Sallie Outlet.
I let drive my slate at Joe’s head with splendid effect.
He was stretched out upon the floor. I let him lay.
Finally he came to and went to studying.
But my system ended abruptly. I received a sum
mons from Squire Bulleye, to appear before him to an
swer to a charge of cruelty to my pupils. I went and
plead my own case. Oh! so eloquently, but in vain.
I was fined twenty-five dollars and costs. The latter
helped to pay for the whisky used by Bulleye, - during
my trial. But I tell you that 1 had revenge. I threw
an ice ball at Joe Biglor last night, and he laid down
in the snow. So that was one blow for vengeance.
Joe Bigler nor his daddy will never know who threw
that ball. As old Fleabug had something to do with
my arrest, I shall let his son Johnny have an applica
tion of ice on the head. See if I don’t.
I wish, Boss, that my term was out. If I live to
see it through, I will seek some other employment,
shoe-making, doubtless. My scholars won’t learn
anything; they persist that Australia is an island in
the Artic ocean, and that Andrew Jackson discovered
America. I was compelled to birch Toady Westfall
jestadwlor calling his gyperjoy, a tyrl He
said that spoons were in the masculine gender, and I
said they were not. Whereupon he used the above
obnoxious word.
Day before yesterday, when opening my desk, I
found twenty-five wart toads and about two hundred
crawfish In it. I became wrothy, (and who wouldn’t,
Boss?) and called.for the offender to come forward.
Strange to say he came not I raved, and to punish
the right one, I whipped the whole school. Did Id®
right ? The flagellation occupied the entire day, and
I will receive pay for it.
It is not an uncommon thing for the young rascals
under my cure to draw my figure on the blackboard.
The said figures have a terribie nose, which is a slur
on my rather large nasal appendage. Some cus«
stole the clapper from the bell last night, and the lid
of my desk was nailed fast. I ruined the desk in
prying open the lid. Now, lam no prophet, nor the
son of an astrologer, but I predict that Fleabug’s
horse’s tail will bo hairless in the morning. I will
Inform you if my prediction was verified.
I cannot say what form the imp’s mischief will
next take;„but I hoard, a moment ago, a whisper
from Johnny Fleabug to Mike Batfish which filled ma
with horror. In the whisper my stool was men
tioned. Let the little cusses beware; for if they in
jure my five-do’dar stool I’ll whip them within an
inch of their lives.
Hi one respect I am like Little Mac used to bo—l.
want to change my base. But if I quit before March
Ist, I will forfeit my pay, which the good Lord knows
I need. The twenty-five dollars and costs, which I
paid, were borrowed, and my creditor is howling for
the money. But I fear I will have to teach and whip
on. I’ll get some ideas in the brains of the Buzzlo
town brats, and the birch shall be the medium
through which I will work. It is cold here, but yet
the musketoes live. I’ll give a premium for every
Buzzletown musketo that is frozen to death this Win
ter. They can’t be killed ! I struck at one once with
a rail, but it just glanced from his back.
I write this from my broken desk, and hope it will
create sympathy for me among the Gossipers. Hope
that you, Boss, Marcie or Pert will suggest how I can
leave Buzzletown before the first of March with my
wages or their equivalent.
Meanwhile, if my troubles increase, I will let you
know. Think of me often, sympathize with me, and
never, oh I never, become a pedagogue.
Yours unfortunately, Spo>
We now bring our gossiping to a close, aa
usual, with a few of our brightest
SCINTILLATIONS.
In one of our Western cities, soma
years since, a man named H was elected
mayor, and very important he thought his position.
During his term of office a fire company sent word
that they should visit his city and remain several
days. The mayor called a meeting of the city coun
cil to see what should be done toward entertaining
the firemen. He wanted to show the hospitality of
the city in its most munificent form, and proposed
that a collation should be given the strangers. “ And
what,” asked one of the aidermen, “do you propose
to put on the table for the collation ?” “ We’ll give
them,” said his honor in reply, “ hot coffee and ear*
dines.” One of the council thought that sardines
and coffee were hardly up to the mark for hungry
firemen. “ I know better,” cried the mayor, in an
angry tone. “ Sardines are hearty, and will be just
what hungry men need.” “Perhaps,” said an al*
derman, “ his honor does not know what sardines
are.” The mayor sprang to his feet, angry all over,
“I know,” he shouted, “what sardines are as well
as you do, or any other member of the board. I’ve
eaten enough of them in my life. They are easily
prepared. Just take two pieces of bread and put a
piece of ham between them, and then your sardine
is made.” His honor sat down amid a roar of laugh
ter. He’d got things kinder mixed in his mind.
At a Far-Western court the case of
Smith vs. Jones was called up.
“ Who’s for the plaintiff?” inquired the judge,
patiently.
“ May it please the court,” said a rising member of
the legal fraternity, “Pilkins is for the plaintiff; but I
left him just now over in the tavern playing a garni
of poker. He’s got a sucker there, and he is sure to ■
skin him, right smart, if he has only time. He’s got
everything all sot to ring a * cold deck,’ in which case
he’ll deal for himself four aces and his opponent four
queens; so that your honor will perceive that he must
‘ rake the persimmons.’ ”
“Dear me!” said the judge, with a sigh, “that'll
too bad! It happens ut ft very unfortunate time I I
am very anxious to get on with this case.”
A brown study foLowcd, and at lengih a happy idea
struck the judge.
“ Bill,” said he, addressing the friend of the ab
sent Pilkins, who had just spoken, “ you understand
poker about as well as Pilkins. Suppose you go ovojj?
and play his hand!”
And Bill did it.
The following is supposed to be aa
original poem by Wh*tm*n:
I am W*lt Wh*tm*n:
You are an idiot.
O intellectual ingurgitations of creeds t
To such I am antiseptic.
I met a man.
Where ?
In a gutter. We were at once friends.
O homogeneities of cotemporaneoue antlloxodroe
machy! .
He would try to stand on his head. 0 divinely
crapulent hysteron-proteron I
“ Our meeting,” he said, “is a palingenesis of Para*
dise ; hast thou, O, New Yorker, hast thou
eighteen pence ?”
I embraced him—l wept. “I have it not,” X
shrieked, or ”
Whom do I love ? Whom do I admire ? Not two
lounging in a carriage, but twelve bulging
out of a cart.
lam not respectable. You are an idiot.
I am W*lt Wh*tm*n.
The manager of a Berlin theatre
got up a drama in which a human head was to bo
offered to a tyrant. In order to produce as much
effect as possible, he resolved to use a human head.
On the stage was placed a table covered with a cloth;
on the table was a basin, and an actor, concealed
under the cloth, poked up his head through a hole in
the table, so as to seem to be placed in the basin.
The effect was prodigious; the audience applauded,
and trembled. Unluckily, a wag, who had been
strolling about the stage, had sprinkled a spoonfiiß.
of snuff on the basin, and just as the tyrant finished
his address to the severed head of his enemy, the
head replied by a hearty fit of sneezing, changing tha
audience “from grave to gay” with remarkable ex
pedition.
A young exquisite, who was anxious
to raise a ferocious crop of whiskers, and was told
that bear’s oil would facilitate their growth, vent to
a druggist and procured a bottle of oil, which he put
profusely on his face when going to bed. Next morn
ing, on looking in the glass, he was horrified to find
either side of his face covered with a thick coat of
white feathers. The druggist had made a mistake,
and given him goose oil instead of bear’s oiL
“My son,” said a fond parent to
his offspring, after having surveyed the wonders of
the Crystal Palace—“ my son, if you can tell me which
of these marvelous works of man pleased you most, X
will give you half a crown.” “ The veal and ham
pies,” responded young hopeful; “ give me tha
money.”
A certain Scotch friend of ours,
who is not a member of the temperance society, be
ing asked by a dealer to purchase some fine old Ja
maica rum, dryly answered: “To tell you the truth,
sir, I canna say I’m very of rum; for if I tak’ mais
than sax tumblers, it’s very apt to give a body tlisj
headache.” t
A girl who was making a dross put
the sleeves in wrong. She was unable to change
them, as she could not determine whether she had
got the right sleeve in the wrong place, or the wrong
sleeve in the right plaee. , j
An Irishman dropped a letter into
the post-office the other day, with the following
memorandum on the corner, ior the benefit of all in
dolent post masters into whose hands it miglit.fall.
“ Please hasten the delay of this,” . *.
An amorous swain wrote to hisj
friend; “ Dear Harry—You asked me what kind of a
game I am playing with Jack Graham for Clarissa’s
hand. I have to say in reply it is a game of
or quits, and the result is I double and he quits.” in
With his needle, a mariner can
compass a great deal.
■nim
Literary Matters.
T. Ellwood Zell, of Philadelphia,
has issued the first number of a new Serial work, whiclj
is destined, if the design be faithfully carried out, to b®
as popular as it will undoubtedly be valuable. Itisn®
less than a new Popular Encyclopaedia; a Universal Dic-t
tionary of Knowledge and Language. It is in large
quarto, of the form so widely circulated in Cassell’s pub
lications, but of a better style in paper, press-work and
general arrangement. No. 1 begins alphabetically, with
an analysis of the letter A, its derivation, uses and va
rious significations. Zell’s Popular Encyclopaedia is ed*
ited by L. Calange, who, by the specimen number, is evi4
dently thorough and painstaking, as well as strictly accu
rate. He has a formidable task before him, as it is coa
templated to “ condense within the compass of two large
royal quarto volumes the information contained in th®
gazetteer, the biographical dictionary, the dictionaries
of law and medicine, the encyclopoedias and dictionaries
of language all combined.” Single numbers are fur
nished at ten cents; and if the serial be successfully car
ried to completion on the basis proposed, no family will
ever regret the appropriation of so small an amount
weekly fpr the benefit of its members, whether young w
old.
The new illustrated .weekly, pub
lished by Pettengill, Bates & Co., called Hearth anti
Home, has made its appearance, and is a very attractive
and interesting addition to our literary press. Under
the able conduct of Donald G. Mitchell, Esq., and
Mrs. Harriet Beecheb Stowe, it cannot fail to be
come popular. The graceful pen of “Ik Marvel,” and
the world-wide reputation of the authoress of “
Tom’s Cabin,” bespeak a kindiy welcome everywhere;
and as Hearth and Home appeals to the fireside circles of
our intelligent country society rather than to the shift
ing support of metropolitan readers—designing to de
vote large attention to agricultural and domestic inter
ests—it will enter upon a field wherein few rivals of abil
ity can dispute its way to an extended circulation. In
addition to its editorial mißoellany, the first number
contains contributions from William Cullen Bryant,
Madame Le Vert, Mary E. Dodge, Prof. Johnson, of
Yale, Grace Greenwood, and other well-known writers.
Attention has lately been drawn to
the proof of the fickleness of the goddess Fash
ion, which has been afforded by ladies’ hair. It
was remarked that the yellow Saxon tresses,
were at one time being everywhere thrust out.
of existence by the browns and blacks of tha
Norman type ; but an astonishing Saxon reac
tion shortly afterward set in, and society sud
denly glittered with golden locks. Scarcely
had we become accustomed to this metamor
phosis, before the reaction was followed by
another. Golden fiair was to be no longer the
iashion; nothing would answer but tho som
bre charms of the brunette. The latest change,
however, in the ever-varying mode, and wa
venture to hope it may be more permanent
than the preceding ones, is to let the natural
hue alone. It is somewhat singular that only
one great nation ever left the hair m its natural
state—the Greeks, the most artistic of all. They
recognized that the lovely covering of the head
was given for artistic handling alone the volute
of the stately human capital, the CKOffn to the
7

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