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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, November 05, 1871, Image 6

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026214/1871-11-05/ed-1/seq-6/

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THE DREAM OF LOVE,
I’ve bad the heart-ache many timoa,
At the mere mention of a name
I’ve never woven in my rhymes,
Though from it inspiration came.
It is in truth a holy thing,
Life-cherished from the world apart—
A dove that never tries its wing,
But broods and nestles in the heart.
The beauty of the earth was hers,
And hers the purity of Heaven;
Alone, of all her worshippers,
To me her maiden vows were given.
They little know the human heart,
Who think such love with time expires;
Once kindled, it will ne’er depart,
But burn through life with all its fires.
We parted—doomed no more to meet —
The blow fell with a stunning power—*
And yet my pulse will strangely beat
At the remembrance of that hour:
But time and change their healing Drought,
And years have passed in seeming glee#
But still alone of her I’ve thought
Who’s now a memory to me.
There may be many who will deem
This strain a wayward, youthful folly,
To be derided as a dream
Born of the poet’s melancholy.
The wealth of worlds, if it were mine,
With all that follows in its train,
I wou d with gratitude resign,
To dream that dream of love again.
BORN FOR A- BUTCHER.
BY PAUL I’LVME.
There was a tei rifle feline squall, and the
iext moment our old pet tom-eat Jupiter
sprang through the open window, minus his
tail, which ho left upon a block of wood beside
tne.
My grandfather raised his spectacles, and
gazed at my mother with a severe expression of
countenance. She, meek soul, suspended her
needle upon my trowsers, and looked upon Ju
piter, who was standing m the middle of the
floor, with his bloody stump elevated perpen
dicularly over his back, while ho turned bis
eyes from my grandfather to my mother, as if
appealing for justice for the deprivation of
three-quarters of his caudal attachment.
“ That boy, ” exclaimed my grandfather,
laying down his newspaper, “is born for a
butcher. He is the most incorrigible little
scamp I ever beheld. Never contented unless
he is depriving some creature of life. Chick
ens, pigeons, young birds—in fact, everything
ho can conveniently get his hands on he kills.
Come here, sir,” he yelled.
I walked demurely into the room, and
though 1 was in the pursuit of science, I never
offered an explanation of my act, but took my
thrashing with as little complaint as possible.
Young as I was, I had read of the struggles of
many a devotee of science, and how he had
borne with contumely and injustice, and bow
after ages had recompensed the neglect, and
ennobled his name.
The fact was briefly SB follows:
My grandfather and old Doctor McPurge
were most intimate friends. Scarcely a week
passed that bo did not visit our house, and
held long discussions in support of the Dar
winian theory of the origin of man. One of his
remarks struck me with peculiar force.
“ Now,” said he, speaking to my grandfather,
"the vertebra of that cat” (pointing to Jupi
ter) “is continued in what you call a tail.
Man is not provided with a tail, because he baa
no nse for one.”
Now, of all sensible brute creatures in the
world, I regarded Jupiter as the first. His in
telligence was beyond belief. I will not stop
to enumerate his intellectual qualities, for no
one would credit what I should say ; but I do
affirm that ho could understand everything
that was spoken to him. If, then, Jupiter was
so smart, what was the use of his having a
tail?
The doctor said :
“ The shorter the tail, the more acute the in
tellect.”
Acting, therefore, upon this principle, I rea
soned that if Jupiter’s tail was cut oft', he would
be the smartest cat the world ever beheld. It
made my heart ache for the pain I knew it
would occasion him, and when I raised the
hatchet, a pang smote mo ; but I thought ol
Jupiter’s future and the cause of science, and
the hatchet performed its work.
Jupiter’s tail healed rapidly, and I anxiously
watched for the progression he was to make in
the scale of knowledge. Alas! it never oc
curred to me that he, following the natural de
pravity of human bipeds, might incline to the
evil rather than the more perfect way of life.
From the hour that ho lost his tail, all manner
of deviltry that a cat can be guilty of entered
into his head. To my sorrow, I discovered that
“ bis works were vile.” He became a confirmed
thief. Hitherto ho had been a most respecta
ble cat, grave and stately in his deportment,
and exceedingly active in exterminating rats
and mice. Ho never went from home. But
now all was changed ; ho appeared indifferent
as to whether he did his duty or not, and bo
got to keeping strange company, leaving the
house at nights, and spending hisdimein mak
ing most unseemly noises with his new-found
companions. Ho could often bo seen lurking
In the vicinity of the pantry, watching his op
fiortunity to steal cream or anything else his
ancy or appetite craved. When he was de
tected in some of his pilfering acts, he would
generally cast his eyes in a leering sort of a
way toward mo, as if to say : “This villainy is
due to your efforts, my friend.”
I was not satisfied with the result, by any
means, and I pondered deeply upon the
change which bad come over Jupiter’s na
, ture; but the remedy was beyond my skill,
and, with a sigh, I confessed I had made a la
mentable failure.
If I suspended my exertions to prove the
truth of Doctor McPurgo’s dogmas, it was not
because I had lost faith in them. My nine
teenth birthday found mo as deeply imbued
with their teaching as ever, and I watched an
occasion to ask the doctor to take me as a stu
dent, and get my grandfather’s consent to my
becoming a physician.
“lie is born lor a butcher,”responded the
old gentleman, when the doctor proposed to
take me into bis office ; “but you are welcome
to him if you feol disposed to try him. Ono
thing you may be sure of, he will never cure
.his patients if he has tho opportunity to kill
them.”
The doctor candidly repeated this flattering
language to me; but in nowise discouraged, I
commented tho study of medicine. For a
time the doctor regarded mo with great satis
faction. I studied hard, and was always ready
to accompany him when he had unusual or
troublesome patients. By degrees I com
menced to grow bolder in the advico I gratui
tously proffered to the afflicted villagers. They
would often come to the office in tho absence
of Dr. McPurge, and request mo to proscribe
for them. Their complaints generally being
of a trifling nature, and my desire io show oft
my learning and skill, coupled with the fact
that they called me “ doctor,” caused me to be
very obliging. But my medical knowledge had
a limit, and, to my mortification, I found I had
deranged the digestive organs of half the in-'
habitants of the village. Popular opinion
turned hotly against me, and I was even
threatened with public prosecution by one old
lady who wanted to live forever, and who, un
der my efforts to perform that ruiraolo, had
nearly gono to her grave. The doctor’s prac
tice began to suffer, as a young physician had
recently located nimself m the village, and
was enterprisingly at work in his profession.
This field had always belonged to Dr. Mo-
Purge, and, when be found it invaded by a
younger and more active man, bo retired from
practice and struck his colors to li .s rival. This
was the cause of my study of medicine coming
to an abrupt end.
With the" ambition which swelled under my
plaid waistcoat, I could not remain the inhab
itant of a country village. I felt that it was
not my destiny to toil behind a plow and feed
pigs. I therefore left home to see something
of the world.
Cincinnati was the spot where I staid my
feet, and good fortune seemed to attend mo
from the moment I entered it. I was standing
upon the corner of a street when a gust of
wind blew the hat from the head of an old
gentleman who happened to bo out with his
wife. The hat went ricocheting down the
street, while the people laughed as they passed
hurriedly along, leaving the poor old gentle
man to recover his hat ns best he could. As
my eyes took in the situation, I sprang into
the street, and, dashing among carriages and
carts, secured tho hat and returned it, to the
owner, with a polite bow.
“That’s a nice young man,” I heard tho old
lady remark, as I approached. Tne gentleman
thanked me, and inquired if I resided in the
city. I told him I had just arrived, and was a
stranger.
“ Seeking your fortune?” he asked.
“ Something of that kind,” I replied, with a
smile.
His wife said something to him in a low
tone.
“Please call and see me to-morrow,” said
the genial old man, presenting his card.
I bowel, and wo parted. 1 then looked at
the pasteboard inscribed with “ Tobias Butch
er, street.” I pondered a good deal upon
my adventure, and wondered what would come
oi it. 1 think I should have been tempted to
have danced on the spot to tho tune a one
legged patriot was performing on a band-or
gan, if I could have foreseen what the result
Of my meeting Tobias Butcher would be.
The pext day found mo at the gentleman’s
office, wnere I was received very cordially by
Mr. Butcher himself, who expressed himself
happy to see me. Then he took me aside and
asked my history. I briefly recounted it, tak
ing care, however, to leave out that part which
related to my study of medicine with Doctor
McPurge, When I had concluded he re
marked :
“My wife took a fancy to you yesterday,
and your politeness also made a favorable im
pression on myself. I will give you a situation
in my office, if you please to accept it.”
He here named a liberal compensation, and
J, without hesitation, took him at his word.
Behold me, then, established on the second
day of my arrival, iu tho Queen City, in the of
fice of Tobias Butcher, stock broker.
It would have made my old grandfather’s
Bars tingle to have hoard me quote stocks.
All Doctor McPurge’s theories vanished before
the all-absorbing excitement of legal gam
bling. I made some ventures myself, and tvas
successful. Iu tjw C9IMP3O Vf time I became
valuable to Mr. Butcher that he gave me some
striking marks of his confidence. I was intro
duced to his family, and me* his daughter Dol
ly, a splendid creature, about my own ago, full
of vivacity and romance. I don’t know whether
Mr. Batcher ever thought of the consequences
that might ensue from my acquaintance with
his daughter, but I got in love with her almost
as soon as I saw her; and if she did not return
the passion as suddenly as I had conceived it,
neither did she reprove it.
Matters went on merrily with mo; from call
ing twice a week to visit Dolly Butcher, I in
sensibly slid into nightly calls, and then with
out reflecting about it, I found myself drop
ping in both on mornings and evenings.
The oM folks, however, were not as observ
ant as I thought them to be; for, as I was
leaving Mr. Butcher’s house, one night, he
had something to say to me. My heart gave a
great flutter as I followed him into a room. He
was very business-like jn most of his affairs,
and usually blurted out whatever he had to
say, in a direct manner.
“ You are courting Dolly, I suppose,” he said.
“I’ve no objection to you as a son-in-law, but
I should like to see you in a better position be
fore you marry. What say you to going into
business with me ?”
“Why, really, Mr. Butcher,” I stammered,
“I did not expect such kindness; I hardly
know how to thank you, I am so surprised.”
“I don’t want thanks,” he replied ; “I only
wish to know if you would like to become my
partner in the concern. I’m sleepy, and want
to go to bed.”
“ If you are pleased to connect me with your
self,” I answered, “I will only be too happy to
accept your proposition.”
“ Very well, he said.
I wrung his hand, and, bidding him good
night, hurried to my house.
In a few days I was duly made a partner of
Mr. Butcher’s, much to the astonishment and
envy of my brother clerks.
I had written to my mother and grandfather,
acquainting them with my altered fortunes,
and informing them of my intended marriage.
Neither of them could'attend my wedding, but
they eent me their congratulations.
When the event took place I wrote my grand
father, giving him an account of the affair,
and promising to bring my wife to visit them.
The old gentleman wrote me a characteristic
letter. He said he never had claimed the gift
of prophecy, yet he was glad to find his predic
tions concerning me were-verified, for he had
always insisted I was born for a Butcher.
HIS UNCLE'S ERROR.
AN ECHO FROM “ROUND THE CORNER."
BY JOHN S. OIHAGAN. '
Shakspere has observed that “the course
of true love never did run smooth,” and a firm
believer in the doctrine thus laid down by the
immortal bard, might have been found m the
person of one Jerry or Jeremiah Buggfns, a
medical student m an English university town,
which we will here describe as Sheepgate.
Mr. Buggins was not what is usually desig
nated a handsome man, and however given to
command, was not possessed of a commanding
appearance. He stood about five feet four in
his stocking soles, and poor measure even at
that; but never having appeared in the prize
ring, his fighting weiglit has been, up to the
present time, a matter of entire ignorance even
to his most intimate friends.
But, as if to make up for these many defects
of body, nature bad endowed him with a most
ambitious turn of mind, and so, despite the
humble means of his parents, Jerry had per
sisted m inducing his father to send him to
college to study for tho medical profession,
and so it was that at the time of our narrative
we find him a medical student. Some time
before this his parents had died, and his pros
pects now rested entirely in tho bands of a
crusty old bachelor of an uncle, who, having
himself been rather “a gay and festive cuss”
in bis youth, was determined that his ward
should go and do very much otherwise. For
this purpose Jerry’s allowance of spare cash
was kept very much limited, and never did be
get a single copper until quarter-day. Now,
our hero was anything but economical, and in
consequence was frequently obliged to seek
the assistance of another and more obliging
relative, also an uncle. So long as his land
lady would give him trust, so long would Jerry
taKe advantage of it; but when she withdrew
her confidence, then there was nothing left for
it but to pledge, first his jewelry, and then his
raiment. Often would he be for weeks with
out a change of wearing apparel, and still of
tener without a single coin in his pocket.
He consoled himself with the reflection, how
ever, that in six months more, his course of
studies would be finished, and he would strut
forth to the world as Dr. Buggins, M. D.
Gradually the thought entered his mind that a
good marriage might prove a very profitable
speculation, and in a short time he began to
look about him. It was of no use for a con
siderable time, but, at length, accident brought
about what design had failed to accomplish.
Iu bis rambles in the public park he had
occasionally observed two ladies, whose united
ages could not have been less than sixty years.
He made inquiries as to who and what they
were, and, on ascertaining that they were two
maiden sisters whose father had died a short
time before, leaving them a considerable sum
of money, he determined to “go for them.”
The father, while living, had kept a very strict
eye on them, and would not for a moment tol
erate the company of any of the young men of
the city about the house ; and now that he was
gone, rumor asserted that amonfc many other
things which they stood in neecrof, husbands
might be numbered.
Jerry no sooner heard this than he at once
made up his mind to throw himself in their
way on every available occasion. Night after
night did he follow them, but without success ;
he dould not obtain an introduction. Still de
termined, however, he hoped on, and at length
was rewarded.
When walking in the park as usual one even
ing he observed an individual who appeared to
be suffering from an eruption of puppy dogs—
at least these animals appeared to be bursting
forth from every pocket, and opening, visible
in his ragged clothes. He appeared to be de
sirous of disposing of a dog to one of the la
dies, but they seemed averse to the notion of
purchasing one, evidently influenced by the
knowledge that they had already a puppy in
constant attendance. The dog-fancier grew
insolent, and the ladies got frightened, when
Jerry, thinking it a capital opportunity for in
troducing himself, camo to the rescue, ordered
off the dog-fancier, and politely requested per
mission to protect the ladies from further an
noyance.
His escort was accepted, and Jerry was
happy. That night ho dreamt of living m a
first class house, with a brass plate on the
door, on which was inscribed in letters of
brass “J. Buggins, M. D.” On waking in the
morning, he was disappointed to find that as
yet he was neither Dr. Buggins nor the hus
band of one of the Miss Pnmstarches. for such
was their name. That evening he again
walked in the park, and met the sisters. They
smiled on him—he bowed to them. This con
tinued for a couple of weeks, when to his sur
prißH he received an invitation to call and tako
tea with them. He accepted, and in a short
time was on the most intimate terms with both
tho sisters.
From that evening everything went on swim
mingly. In a few weeks, Jerry ventured to
make a declaration of love to the eldest sister,
Miss Jerusha. She listened to his pleading;
she acknowledged a reciprocity of feeling, and
Jerry congratulated himself on having tri
umphed. Miss Jerusha ventured on one occa
sion to throw out a hint about Jerry’s financial
position. Ho threw himself upon his knees,
declared that though at present his star was
not in the ascendant, he would soon have com
pleted his studies, and be m a position to earn
plenty of money; that all be desired was her
love; if she would only wait for him, that
thought would urge him on to the most deter
mined efforts to render himself worthy of her.
Jerusha, evidently thinking a poor husband
better than none, expieased herself satisfied,
and, shortly after, the interesting couple were
formally betrothed.
With a view to catching a husband for tho
younger sister, they issued invitations for a
grand evening party, to which of course Jerry
was invited. He at once intimated his inten
tion of being present, but being in the habit of
visiting his intended almost every evening, the
thought never occurred to him that his cos
tume was rather shabby—that on this occasion
there would be company present, and that it
was incumbent on him, the husband in pro
spective of the elder Miss Primstarch, to ap
pear at least respectable.
Now the fact of the matter was that the
quarter was pretty far advanced, and as usual,
Jerry’s valuables, including his best coat, were
in chancery, and he, himself, had not the
means of releasing them. He did not give the
matter much thought until pretty well on in the
day of the party, when he found himself really
m a disagreeable fix. What was he to do? a
temporary panic in his landlady’s own private
affairs had necessitated the withdrawal of ner
confidence already. He could not borrow
money ot her, and yet money he must have.
It was rapidly approaching time to dress when
a brilliant idea occurred to him. He would
pledge the coat and vest ho now wore, and
with them some articles of clothing he could
dispense with, and by that means raise-enough
to redeem his best suit, which he would wear
to the party, and return to tho keeping of his
uncle, on the following day. “ The very
thing capital” exclaimed Jerry. And so
throwing off his coat and vest, and with the
other things making it up into a parcel he
persuaded the landlady’s little boy on promise
of a liberal reward, on quarter day, to go off to
Mr. Pledgem’s, at the corner of the stieet, and
having pledged these articles for a certain
sum, present the ticket and redeem the others.
In tho meantime he shaved and proceeded
with his toilet, so far as present arrangements
would admit of, and then waited with im
patience the return of his messenger.
Presently the urchin appeared and present
ed Jerry with his parcel and the change, but
to his horror, he discovered upon opening it,
that the clothes were not his.
By some error of the pawnbroker he got the
1 costume of some other individual evidently
twice his size.
He tho made him run back
NEW YORK DISPATCH.
as fast as ever he could, and explain the mis
take, but shortly the messenger returned with
the crushing news for Jerry that on arriving
at the pawnbrokers he found the place closed
for the evening and no one within. This was
a heavy blow indeed ; he was now worse than
ever. Both his own coats were gone—true,
tho coat and vest brought him were quite as
good, nay even better than his own, but they
were much too large for him. What was he to
do ? He must go to the party. No I ho would
feign sickness ; that wouldn’t do. he was
airaid of some one elso taking bis place in the
affections of Miss Jerusha. And again he
knew she was desirous of introducing him to
her friends.
Ho triod on the coat and vest—much too
large—and yet, it might not bo noticed, he
would go. And so having argued tho matter
fully over in his own mind, ho determined oven
at tho risk of exposing the dosporate shifts ho
had boen obliged to resort to, to keep his
engagement with his betrothed. Shortly be
fore the appointed time he left his lodging to
proceed to* their abode.
Now, as the sisters happened to reside at a
considerable distance from Jerry’s lodging, he
was obliged to walk pretty fast, in order to be
there in time ; and ere he had gone far from
his own domicile he was somewhat astonished
to perceive two eccentric looking individuals
apparently following him. The first idea that
occurred to him was, that they were attracted
by tho strange appearance which ho presented ;
and yet—no, that couldn’t be it—they would
never follow him for such a distance merely to
laugh at him. What if they were robbers ?
No 1 even if they wore, he had nothing to bo
robbed of. Presently they overtook him, and
one of them, accosting him, asked his name.
Jerry, not knowing what their intention might
be, gave him a fictitious one—“Popkins Spen-
“ Spencer!” exclaimed the older of the two ;
“eh—quite sure ?”
“Positive!” replied Jerry, thinking ho was
doing a very smart thing.
After a consultation with each other, they
muttered something about being mistaken,
and, turnihg back, pretended to go in the op
posite direction. But after Jerry had pro
ceeded some distance, on looking back, to his
astonishment he perceived that they were
again following him.
Ho marveled much as to what could bo the
meaning of it; but, not arriving at any conclu
sion, hurried on, and soon arrived at his desti
nation, where he was cordially received by tho
blushing Jerusha and her sister Tabitha.
He was in pretty good time, most of the
guests having arrived, and m the necessary
bustle of preparation his somewhat loose gar
ments were not particularly noticed, even by
his intended bride.
They sat down to tea, and all went merry
as the proverbial marriage bell during tho
. earlier portion of the evening. Immediately
alter tea, Jerry, looking out of the window,
was horrified to observe the same two eccen
tric-looking individuals standing on the oppo
site side of the street, and apparently watching
the house.
“ What could be the meaning of it.”
Presently, Miss Jerusha called him to intro
duce him to a late arrival, and for some time
the matter escaped his mind. The younger
sister, Miss Tabitha, after much coaxing, con
sented to smg a ballad; and when she had fin
ished, our hero, who was really a good singer,
was prevailed upon to air his vocalism, and at
once launched forth into “ My heart is not my
own.” He had barely concluded that affecting
melody, when a loud and boisterous knock was
heard at the door, which was at once answered
by the servant girl. Presently she entered the
room, and said two gentlemen were at the
door, inquiring for a Mr. Popkins Spencer.
“Popkins Spencer I” said Miss Jerusha;
“ there is no person of that name here.”
“ Oh, yes, tnere is I” exclaimed a gruff voice
in the hall; “leastways that’s tho name he
guv me.”
And immediately after, the two individuals
whom Jerry had encountered entered the
room.
After looking carefully round the place, he
continued :
“That’s werry strange. I could have sweared
I seen him come in here. However, we must
search the house; he don’t escape mo that
way.”
The guests seemed much astonished at all
this ; the younger sister fainted, and the elder
called for Jerry to protect her and save the
house from insult. Poor Buggins not knowing
whether he was on bis head or heels, suddenly
appeared as if from under the sideboard ; and
immediately he did appear, the gruff individual
already referred to, whose name was Tim Top
ham, and whose occupation was that of a sher
iff’s officer, caught him by the shoulder, and
explained to Him that it was no use offering
any resistance, that he was his prisoner, and
must go with him to the lockup.
jerry was so astounded that he was scarcely
able to speak. “Lockup, prisoner, what did it
ail moan ?” but Miss Jerusha shrieked out:
“That gentleman’s name'' is not Spencer.
That is Mr. Buggins.”
“Spencer or Buggins, it’s all tho same, mum ;
he must go with me,” replied the gentle Tim.
“Lor’ bless you, he has had as many names as
there are days in the year;” and then gazing
on Jerry, ho soliloquized thus: “Well, of all
the jobs as I has seen, this is the meanest one
ever I came across.”
Jeriy having now somewhat recovered him
self, indignantly demanded an explanation of
what it all meant, and on what charge he was
arrested.
“You’re a pretty card to demand explana
tions, you are. You’re a nice young fellow to
go and desert your wife and six small children,
you are, Bah 1 transportation is too good ior
you.”
“Wife and six small children!” exclaimed
Jerusha. “Oh, no, the thing’s impossible,
perfectly impossible.”
“Yes, perfectly impossible!” echoed Jerry,
scarcely able to realize his position.
“ Oh, no, it’s not at ail impossible,” remarked
Tim, at the same time searching him and
bringing forth from the private pocket of his
coat a package of letters; “p’raps this’ll satis
fy you.” *
To bo sure, there wore the letters directed in
a scratchy, scrawling hand, to “ Thaddeus Bolt
well, post office, Sheepgate. To be called for.”
Miss Jerusha now became fairly convinced
that she had been made the dupe of an adven
turer, and, as in duty bound, at once went off
in a swoon. Jerry, after much struggling and
kicking, was marched off to tho station-house
in custody of the burly Tim and his seneschal.
The guests rapidly took their departure; the
males wondering, and the females chuckling at
the discomfiture of Miss Jerusha’s intended,
and protesting that he did somehow or other
always look like a married man, but “ six small
children—oh, horrible!”
Mr. Buggins was escorted to the station
house by a crowd of small boys and young men,
who, learning the cause of his arrest, would,
every now and then, burst fortn into an ironi
cal cheer for the manly deserter of “a wife aud
six small children.”
On getting to the station-house, Tim pre
sented his charge to the officer on duty, and
explained tnat his partner and he, had that
day arrived from a town some miles distant, iu
search of one Thaddeus Boltwell, who had ran
away from his wife and family ; that the first
place they had gone to make inquiries was tho
general post office, and that there they learned
chat an individual had called lor letters ftd
dressea to that name, and that said individual
could easily be recognized by a peculiar ar
rangement of the buttons on his coat, which
the officials described to Tim, and which de
scription exactly coincided with that of tne
coat worn by Jerry; that immediately after
leaving the post office, they discerned the pris
oner now in custody walking m tne street, and
requesting his name, was answered “Popkins
Spencer,” but not feeling satisfied, and at tho
same time afraid to mak-e a false charge, they
had followed him to the abode of toe sisters
Primstarche, and after some hesitation, there
entered, and discovered that he was known to
them as Jeremiah Bugging, but on searching
him lound proof positive that he was their
man, on finding letters in his pocket addressed
to this Thaddeus Boutwell.
This the officer considered sufficient evi
dence to justify him in retaining Jerry until
inquiries could be made, and though Jerry
protested, and demanded that the pawnbroker
and post office officials be sent for, that pro
ceeding was deferred until morning, and he
was transferred to a dark cell, where he spent
the night.
Early the next morning Jerry was placed be
fore a magistrate, to undergo an examination
on a charge of deserting his wife and family;
but before the case had proceeded far, it was *
discovered that a serious mistake had boen
made, and that Jerry was not in reality the
person for whom he had been arrested.
Thia was conclusively proven by the pawn
broker, who at once explained tne error by
which the wrong clothes had been given to
Jerry.
It appeared that when Jerry had gone to
pledge his coat and vest, the gentleman want
ed, had also been driven, by force of circum
stances, to the same resort, and the pawn
broker’s assistant had, in the hurry of the mo
ment, placed the wrong tickets on each of tne
parcels. In consequence, Jerry, being the firss
to send for his clothes, received of the
other party, and the place being closed on the
return of his messenger, the error was not dis
covered until that morning.
The post-office officials asserted that Jerry
•was not the person, nor did not at all resemble
the person by whom the letters bad been re
ceived, and the parson of Jerry’s native village,
for whom ho had telegraphed over night, de
posed that he was himself, and no wife desert
er. The result was that Buggins was dis
charged, with an expression of regret on the
part of tho magistrate that he had been put to
such inconvenience, and the two officious sher
iff’s officers were severely reprimanded for
their mistake.
Now, during the evening that Jerry had
spent in tho cell, tho handsome captain,
already referred to as the officer on duty, had
boon very kind to him, having all the time a
doubt as to bis identity, and after the examina
tion, at Jerry’s request, proceeded with him to
the residence of the Misses Primstarche, there
to make an explanation in full to his be
trothed.
On arriving at the house, Jerry requested an
audience of Jerusha, and, after some hesita
tion, it was granted. He proceeded to unbosom
himself, and, concealing nothing, explained to
her the whole affair from first to last, inolud
ing ta temporary poverty, amj the pawn.
broker’s mistake, and wound up by anxiously
imploring her forgiveness. This ho imme
diately obtained, on condition that they be
married immediately after he had taken out his
diploma.
During the time Jerry was explaining to Je
rusha, the handsome captain was flirting with
Miss Tabitha, and, would it be believed, that
out of that flirting sprung an intimacy which
finally ended in Jerry and the handsome cap
tain becoming brothers-in-law.
Jerry has long since taken out his diploma,
and long since made tho blushing JerusliaMrs.
Buggins, and frequently, o’er a tumbler of
punch, does he and the handsome captain have
many a hearty laugh at the troubles he got
into in consequence of His Uncle’s Error.
SOME FUN.
BY MAX ADULER.
THE CHANGEABLE PORTRAIT.
Wo were surprised to perceive, on Monday
last, that that excellent paper, the Philadelphia
Post, produced its wood-cut again, and called
it this time T. B. Pugh. Years ago, when the
editor of that journal and wa were boys to
gether—when tne gray hairs which now linger
here and there, marking the snow-lino above
which tower tho bare and ruggod summits of
our beads, wero a tender auburn, shading off
into a sunny red—we clubbed together and
bought that wood-cut of a journalist who had
it made for his paper when General Lafayette
visited this country the second time. It never
looked a particle like Lafayette ; and when we
two purchased it we used to run it into our
paper every now and then as a portrait of Gen
eral Jackson, of John Quincy Adams, and of
all the pugilists who were bruised and all the
toronants who tumbled, and the bishops who
wore killed In duels. Sometimes we would
pack putty around the nose and print it as a
map of the burned district after some great
conflagration, or as a plan of the battle ot
Buena Vista, or as a view of Caraccas afrer the
great eathquake, “ tanon by our artist on the
spot.” Once we printed it as a “ portrait of
our candidate for Mayor” and forgot to remove
the putty, aud tho candidate called the next
morning with a Paixhan gun and a brigade of
infuriated bull-terriers to interview us. Wo
both watched his movements with affectionate
interest from the Baptist Church steeple across
the way, and annoyed him by whistling at his
dogs. And now chat wood-cut bs.3 turned up
again with another now name to it 1 It seems
somewhat severe on Mr. Pugh ; and yet wo
honestly think he ought to be pleased, even if
the eyes have been fixed up with the beads of
carpet-tacks, and the hat cut up into hair.
It lalls to tho lot of very few mon in these
times to have tho honor of appending their
names to a wood-cut which once represented
General Lafayette ; and still a smaller number
ean rejoice that their features can be identi
fied with a representation of an earthquake m
Caraccas. Indeed wo may say that tho full
sweetness of life will not be tasted by any man
until that wood-cut is presented as a portrait
of him. If one can thus link his name with the
field of Buena Vista and the memory of that
extraordinary natural convulsion m Venezuela,
ho should be satisfied then to glide peacefully
and calmly without further honors down to
tho end of life.
ANOTHER POETIC MANIAC.
A young man in Camden sends us a poem, of
which this is the first verse :
“ Oh! call not a shade of Badness
To linger upon my brow,
r r my heart la o'er full of its gladness.
And I must be happy now 1
I know that the shadows are creeping
O’er the sky that beameth so bright;
I know there’.! be time tor weeping.
But let me happy to-night.”
We do not know why this piteous language
has been addressed to us. Any Oiie, upon ready
ing it, might very reasonably suppose not
that we had been making a desperate effort to
force a shade of sadness to linger on the poet’s
brow, but that we wero the chief conspirator in
a diabolical plot to keep him in a condition ot
abject misery until to-morrow. We deny the
truth of the insinuation. We have not the
slightest objection to his being happy to-night,
if tie wants to. As far as we are concerned,
there is not any earthly reason why he
shouldn’t be in a condition of exquisite felicity
to-night, or to-morrow, or week after next, or
ten years bonce, or through the unending cy
cles of eterniiy. Indeed, we afe willing to do
anything to help to make him happy, except
to lend aim money and print his poetry, and
the reason whv we will not do tho latter is that
we want to make our readers happy, which we
cannot do if we give these Camden poets an
acre oi room every Sunday for their maddening
rhymes. “ There’ll be time for weeping" ior
certain when we begin to encourage these ma
niacs in Now Jersey.
AN IMPRACTICABLE WOMAN.
Some people have very little idea of the fit
ness of tbiugs. They do say that there is a
woman in this city who read the appeals in be
half ot the Chicago sufferers with expressions
of intense sympathy, and at last burst into
tears. Then she sat down and thought what
she could send tor the relief and comfort of the
thousands of shivering women out there on the
prairie. A happy thought seemed to strike
her. She rusaed up-stairs, fumbled around
among her things for a while, and at last drag
ged out a pink parasol aud a box of hair-pins
which she sent to the committee with the con
viction that she had done her duty. This
woman is about as impracticable as the man
wno nappened to go into Laurel Hill Cemetery
a few days ago just as a funeral party gathered
around a grave where a mother was weeping
over the remains of her husband. The man’s
heart overflowed with sympathy and pity; and
tho woman's gnet troubled linn so that he felt
exceedingly anxious to relieve it. He couldn’t
think of any method of offering consolation un
til the mourners turned to leave tlis grave;
then he went up to the widow and said : “Mad
am, I’m sorry, awful sorry, and if it will be any
accommodation to you, I’d like to lend you
fifty cents ;” and he offered it to her. He was
dragged away and thumped on the head a few
times by the undertaker, and the procession
passed on.
DOESN’T KNOW HE’S DEAD.
At the time of the Chicago fire all the news
papers declared that that gentlemanly scoun
drel, Mr. Barney Aaron; of New York, bad been
hanged. Mr. Aaron has since published a
statement to the effect that this information
is false; that he is alive and well. Even in the
presence of this assertion we have no difficulty
in ascertaining the truth. If the newspapers
said Mr. Aaron is dead, be is dead, and that
settles it, no matter what Mr. Aaron’s views
upon ths subject may be. A newspaper is
conducted for the enlightenment aud instruc
tion of the public, and when it makes a declar
ation, it must be received with implicit con
fidence, or the whole business might as well
be abandoned. Wa have no doubt Mr. Aaron
thinks he is alive; but he is mistaken. His vi
tal spark has fled ; be lias gone to that bourne
from which no traveler returns; hs is now
nothing more than disagreeable remains, and
if he has any eeaee of propriety he will have
himeelf buried promptly. If a free press is to
be contradicted and defied in this reckless
manner by every outlaw in the community, our
cherished institutions tor which William Penn
and those other patriots fought and bled will
soon be no other than a crumbling ruin.
THE EFFECT OF DRESS ON DUTY.
The Episcopal Convention, in laying down
rules for the regulation of the costume to bo
worm by its members, mentioned the different
articles of dress, and, after such description,
said impressively that the garments must not
reach below the ankles. The importance of
such a regulation as this to the interests of
pare religion will at once be apparent even to
the unecclesiastical mind. It is perfectly clear
that no man can bo expected to preach the
gospel properly if his gown reaches only to
within six inches of bis feet; while no argu
ment is needed to prove that a clergyman who
permits his surphee to come down to his heels
is a mere atheist, who ought to be taken right
out and shot. Wa shudder when we think that
the heathen in distant pagan lands may read
the proceedings of the Convention when their
newspapers arrive ; and then, when a mission
ary comes out there with a gown which drags
in the mud, they will laugh at him as an im
postor, and will refuse to hearken to his
preaching, or perhaps become infuriated and
sacrifice him to some abominable idol with six
heads.
HE DOESN'T OWN A DOC.
There is a dancing-master in Boston named
Papanti. He is fond of gunning, but he is too
poor to own a dog. So, the other day, when
ho started out after woodcock, he took along
with him a triend who was expected to run on
ahead aud scare np the game for bim. The
friend trotted in advance for half an hour or.
so, and then stopped suddenly, pointed to a
tuft of bushes, and slid behind a tree so as to
give the dancing-master a chance to shoot.
Papanti advanced slowly, all ready to fire, but
waiting until the birds rose. His friend, be
coming impatient, stuck his face around from
behind the tree to aseerloin the cause of delay.
Just then the Professor fired, and his friend
immediately afterward was surprised to find a
half-a-pound ot number six shot buried in his
nose, Papanti had emptied both barrels, and
as noitbet of them “ scattered" a particle, his
friend’s nose was overloaded, and now he has
to carry a pig of lead on his back to overeomo
the tendency of that nose to drag him face for
ward to the earth. Professor Papanti has not
gunned any since. He says he will stop now
until he can buy a dog. His friend takes no
pleasure in these field-sports now. He seems
discouraged.
HARD WORK FOR REPORTERS.
What do you think now of this, for instance,
as an item ? It is from an exchange :
“Colonel W. L. Smith (Louyeh Smitch), in
terpreter, Jasoneechoolah, Tahseekakyahea
Gocutner, Suyatah Oogoocohoo, Cheellantaus
keh, Cheesawheel Sicayahneo, Amahneetah,
Teesuyaligah, Wahk-eegoo, Chasee, Aeickee,
Jim Cnuneenageetahee, Ooneenawatahee, Oo
lahnahsteeskoh, Jansonee, John Losee, Sueb
queyah, Sequahe, Lawyah, Alex. Hornbuckle,
and squaws, Cbeoyanahstah, Walleekeeneb,
Naces and Wakes have arfiYvd ftt Baleigh,
whore they are to play an aboriginal game of
base ball.”
It is going to be hard for the newspaper men
who have to report that match, We would
rather borrow a thousand dollars irom our
deadliest enemy, at once, than undertake it.
A TOOTHLESS INFANT.
They do say that there is an unsophisticated
young man in this bailiwick who when his first
child was born, a few days ago, was surprised
and grieved to perceive that it was toothless.
After shedding a silent tear over what be con
sidered the dreadful deformity of his son and
heir, he wont around and bought a fifteen dol
lar set of teeth, which ho handed to the nurse
with the remark that the baby shouldn’t suffer
if ho had to wear only one shirt a week. The
nurse sadly led him down stairs and explained
it to him. Ho has a lot of false teeth on hand
now which will be sold at a sacrifice.—Phila
delphia Sunday Dispatch,
CASE OF FALSE WHISKERS.
A. PAIR OP TRAVELERS STRANGE
LT INTERVIEWED.
The Columbus Statesman, of Saturday, gives
ua the following :
As the train over the Baltimore and Ohio
road glided into the shadows of our magnifi
cent Union Depot on Thursday evening, a gen
tleman and lady stopped from the platform
and entered the eating house of the Messrs.
Olmer. The lady was faultlessly attired—the
gentleman ditto—and sported, in addition to
his fine store clothes, a magnificent pair of
Burnside whiskers and drooping mustache of
raven hue, which had been the envy of the
male and the admiration of the female portion
of his fellow travelers from the moment of his
appearance on the train—the envy of the male
bipeds running so high as to reach the gentle
manly conductor, who was not slow in inti
mating to Officers McCabe and Six that the
man was a fit subject for suspicion, and need
ed a little watching.
These two gentlemen, ever zealous for the
faithful performance of their duties, stood not
on the order of their going, but went at once
for the unconscious pair, and it was but the
work of a moment ere the gentleman was in
the strong grasp of “Long Barney,” while the
gallant Fix politely collared the lady and gent
ly escorted her to another portion of the
depot.
Having got the pair separated, Barney, struck
with the gentleman’s magnificent Burnsides
and mustache, could not forbear placing his
bands on the aforesaid whiskers, for the pur
pose of bestowing a gentle caress, when lo 1
the whiskers fell to the ground, leaving the
gentleman’s face as Innocent of a hirsute ap
pendage as a youth in his first adolescence.
Here was a go! And thereupon Barney pro
ceeded to interview him.
The gentleman’s name was Powell—Benja
min Powell—from the smoky city of Wheeling,
and he was largely interested in rolling mill
operations in Newark ; he was on bis way to
Cincinnati on a little business; the lady was
an old friend from—Newark. Was the lady
his wife? Oh, no! but expected she would be
—some day 1 She was going to St. Louis to
visit friends; he was escorting her to Cincin
nati, that was all. But about the whiskers?
He had assumed the disguise to prevent cer
tain interested parties in Newark from spoil
ing his little trip in company with his intended
wife—some day!
Meanwhile, the gallant Fix proceeded to
pump the terrified fair one. Was the gentle
man with the whiskers her husband ? Oh, no.
but expected to be—some day 1 She was on
her way to St. Louis ; had been married, but
separated from her husband ten years ago.
He was living with his third wife. Her name
was Turner, but she expected to change it—
some dayl
Upon consultation, the officers came to the
conclusion that if everything was not right at
present, it probably would be—some day 1 and
the handsome pair were permitted to resume
their journey m peace, minus the whiskers,
which our friend Barney retained, thinking
possibly that, to a gentleman in his profession,
they might be of use—some day I
DEATH IN A WELL
A Most Horrible Circumstance A Lad
Eourtecn Tears Old Descends into a New
Well, and is Suffocated by the Damps
A jliiui Attempts to Rescue the Boy,
but he also Perishes.
(From the Columbus Journal, Oct. 26.)
A most horrible calamity occurred yesterday
on the farm owned by J. 0. Diemer, a gentle
man well known to many citizen's of Columbus.
The farm is situated near St. Mary’s Academy,
four miles from the city. The* circumstances
arc as follows : —Water being scarce on the
premises, Mr. Diemer some days since deter
mined to biuk a new well, in order to grot a.
more abundant supply. To accomplish the
task speedily, he engaged the services of three
Katzmeyers, who have a reputation in this vi
cinity for well-digging. The well had been
sunk to the depth of titty feet at noon yester
day, wben digging was temporarily stopped,
for dinner, we suppose. At that time Mr.
Diemer told his boys that be wanted to go
down into the well, to see how it was coming
on, but was busy and could not go down at the
moment. Before be was ready to make the
descent, however, his second son William, aged
fourteen years, asked his brothers to lower
him down into the well by means of the wind
lass used in bringing up the dirt excavated.
The request was complied with, neither of the
brothers fearing any harm would come of it.
The father, who was but a short distance away,
thought of no mishap, and allowed the boys to
go on with their sport.
But just as William reached the bottom of
the well, one of his brothers called to his fath
er in the startling, horror-producing words,
“Willie is dead!” Mr. Diemer, fearing the
truth of such shocking intelligence, hastened
to the well. Peering into the excavation which
penetrated so far toward the bowels of the
earth, he saw his dear son Wulie lying, appa
rently lifeless, at the bottom. To repeated
cries of “ Willie I” “ Willie I” no response came.
The next thought of the distracted parent was
to descend into the well and rescue bis beloved
son ; but just then George Katzmeyer, one of
the diggers, appeared at the scene, and graspe
ing the rope, let himself down, the father and
sons standing ready to pull him and the ven
turesome youth up. Arriving at the bottom,
Mr. Katzmeyer se.zed the boy, cold in death,
and getting in the dirt elevator, called to those
at the windlass to “pul up.” Eager and
breathless they did as directed. For a few
turns of th crank they felt the weight of the
two human bodies, and were confident that
within the next moment both George and Wil
liam would be borne to the surface of the earth
alive. But alas for the expectations of father
and sons above! and for George Katzmeyer
and Willie Diemer below. Siiddenly.tlio former
felt that the elevator had boon robbed of its
mortal freight! Tue air m which no human
being can for a moment live, the damps, over
came George Katzmeyer also, and both bodies
fell to the bottom, never to come up again alive.
Test For Experimentalists.
UOW RED EOT IRON MAT BE HAN
DLED.
We give the following article from an ex
change, as a matter of interest in relation to a
curious subject of investigation. Those per
sons who are’ disposed to take the risk can try
its practical effect. For ourselves, we had
much rather believe in than test the^ virtues of
the receipt:
Monsieur I. Fonteile, President de la Sqciete
des Sciences Physiques et Chemiques do Paris,
Ac., has left the following on record : About
the year 1809 one Lionetto, a Spaniard, aston
ished not only the ignorant, but chemists and
other men of science, in France, Germany,
Italy and England, by the impunity with
which he handled red hot iron and molten
lead, drank boiling oil, and performed other
feats equally miraculous. While he was at
Naples he attracted the notice of Professor
Sementeni, who watched all bls operations,
and endeavored to discover his secret. He
observed, in the first place, that when Lionetto
applied a piece ot rod hot iron to his hair,
dense fumes rose from it, and the same oc
curred when he touched his foot with the iron.
He also saw him place a rod of iron, nearly red
hot, between his teeth without burning him
self, drink thS third of a table-spoonlul of boil
ing oil, and taking up molten lead with his
fingers, place it on his tongue witbout appa
rent inconvenience. Sementeni’s efforts, after
performing several experiments upon himself,
were finally crowned with success. He found
that by friction with sulphuric acid, diluted
with water, the skin might be made insensible
to the heat of red hot iron ; a solution of alum,
evaporated until it became spongy, appeared
to be more effectual m these frictions. After
having rubbed tbe parts which were thus ren
dered, in some degree, incombustible, with
hard soap, he discovered on the application of
hot iron, that their insensibility was increased.
He then determined on again rubbing the
parts with soap, and after this found that the
hot iron not only occasioned no pain, but that
it actually did not burn the hair? Being thus
far satisfied, the Professor applied hard soap
to bis tongue until it became insensible to the
beat ot the iron, and alter having placed an
ointment composed of soap mixed with a solu
tion of alum upon it, boiling oil did not burn
it; while the oil remained on the tongue a
slight hissing was heard, similar to that of hot
iron when thrust into water; the oil soon
cooled, and might then be swallowed without
danger. Several scientific men have since
successfully repeated the experiments of Prof.
Sementeni.
The Weeping Willow.—Some may
know the story of the firs Sweeping willow, intro
duced into England by the poet Popo, who found
one twig in a basket of figs, that had been given
him, puttingout a bud; and having planted it in his
garden, reared it to a tree, whence all those beauti
ful trees in England have been propagated. The
weeping willow of Twickenham is no more; but its
graceful offspring, bending over many a stream, live
far and wide.
JOKE ON A DOCTOR.
HIS BILL MIST AREN KOH A PRE
SCRIPTION.
(From the Territorial Enterprise.)
A few days since, Mr. Clarkson, our genial
City Clerk, and a well known physician of this
place happened to meet on South C street.
The physician mentioned to the clerk that he
had a small claim against the corporation for
attendance upon a city patient. Ho was told
to make out his bill, send it in, and it would
be presented at the next meeting of the Board
of Aldermen. The Clerk happening to com
plain during the interview of being a little un
der the weather, the physician took note ot his
symptoms, and said that upon reaching his
office he would write him a prescription that
would set him to rights, and which he would
send by the boy that would bring him the bill.
The afternoon of the same day a boy called at
the Clerk’s office at the City Hall, and left two
papers, mentioning who had sent them. “Al!
right,” srid the Clerk, glancing at the papers
that were thrown upon his desk. Now the
chirography of the majority of physicians is
much after the style of that mighty quill
driver, Dr. Horace Greeley, but that of this
particular M. D. was a cross between the usual
medical style and the characters used by Chi
nese astronomers and laundrymon. When the
Clerk camo to examine the two papers, ho
was much puzzled to make out which was the
prescription and which the bill. Some zig-zag
characters that appeared upon one of the
papers led him to think it the prescription.
He took it to a drug store and handed it to the
clerk, who turned it in several directions, and
then said :
“ This is from Dr. , is it not ?”
Being answered in the affirmative, ho at
once became cheerful, and soon handed to the
clerk a big powder, to bo taken at night, and a
bottle of some dark liquid, to be taken in the
morning.
For two days following our clerk looked ra
ther pale about the gills, but felt that on the
whole the medicine had done him considerable
good. At ihe next morning of the Board the
doctor’s bill was presented, but about all that
could bo made out of it was that it seemed to
call for $7. It was referred, as is usual, to the
proper committee to be examined and report
ed upon at the next regular meeting.
At the next meeting a favorable report was
given, and $7 was allowed. The next day the
doctor came to the clerk in high dudgeon, and
said:
“How is it that you cut down my bill? I
I see by the report in the newspaper that the
Board only allowed me $7.”
Mr. Clerk swore that the bill was allowed
just as made out, and to prove that he was
right, hunted it np and banded it to the irate
physician. The doctor gazed upon the docu
ment for some moments, and then exclaimed :
“ May I be hanged if you and the Board of
Aidermen haven’t been at work for two weeks
on my prescription, and have at last allowed
me $7 on it ?”
“Yes,” cried the now aroused clerk, “and
may I bo hanged if I didn’t take your infernal
bill to the drug store, and they allowed it
there, and gave me a dose of it that d—d'near
physicked me to death I”
The best of the joke was that the druggist’s
clerk, when questioned about making up the
prescription, said :
“When I get such a looking paper from Dr.
and rhubarb, to be followed by black draught,
and this is the first time there has been any
fuss about it.”
Exploits of a Desperado. The
Gorman papers of October states that a fire broke
out in the middle of the building forming the House
of Correction, at Bruchsal, by whioh the octagonal
tower, the church, the school, and the adjoining
bureau were completely burned down. Schwable, a
dangerous convict, who had been dismissed from
this institution two years ago, had been again ap
prehended a few days before the fire occurred. This
miscreant had broken open the lock of the cell, and
finding the jailer’s room adjoining was open, he put
on the official coat and sword, and took possession of
the keys of the church, which were hanging up
there. On being pursued, the daring and dangerous
culprit ran through the church and climbed up to
the roof, and with immense strength pulled out
large square stones from the will, which he threw
down, so that no one could approach without en
dangering their lives. Intrenched in his hiding
place, he set fire to the roof, which, being all wood,
was quickly in flames, and the fire brigade, who
hastened to the spot, were only able to saVo the ad
joining wing of the building and the prisoner’s
cel s. The sentry fired on the culprit, who dis
appeared, but it was not known whether he had
fallen with the burnt-off roof or had escaped in the
confusion. AU the cells nearest to the part on fire
were vacated, and the prisoners placed in the cel
lars. In the meantime, ** Where was Schwable ? had
he escaped, or was he dead ?'* Escape was, how
ever, scarcely possible, as he, the originator of the
fire, had himself cut off every means of atgiit. That
he should have ihrowu nimaeir into the flames was
not likely, as although he was a very desperate
.character, ho was not considered a man at all likely
to commit suicide. At last it was thought possible
that he might be hiding under the floor in the
gallery, and true enough Schwable was there. When
he found that he was discovered, he stood up sword
in hand, like a raging demon, and a fierce and
bloody fight ensued. Covered with wounds, he was
thrown down from the tower, six stories high, into
the prison yard below; but still Schwable was saved
from death, lor he fell into a cart full of rubbish.
He was then placed under medical care, but he has
paid for tins exploit with his life, for he has since
died of his wounds.
A Lively Reminiscence of Davy
Crockett. A correspondent of the Nashville
Banner writes from Paris, Tennessee : Paris, be
side being one of the oldest towns m this portion of
the State, has historic associations as rich and pleas
ant as any in the West. At this point the canvass
usually clospd between Davy Crockett arid “Little
Fitz,’’ as James Fiizgeraid was called. It was here
that the memoraole difficulty took place between
‘•Davy ” and “Little Fitz ” that decided the elec
tion of the latter for Congress. Fitzgerald had ac
cused Crockett of drawing more mileage than he was
entitled to, and characterized it in very severe terms.
Crockett seat him word that he would thrash him.
Fitzgerald’s friends represented to him the danger
of a repetition, and advised him not to make the is
sue. Wben the hour for speaking arrived an im
mense crowd was present, mostly Crockett men, and
among them their idolized chief.
Fitzgerald, camo late, with but a few backers, and
they of a kind not fond of broils and difficulties.
He was met before he reached the grounds and
begged to return, but he could not retreat without
disgrace and defeat. Fitzgerald spoke first. Upon
mounting the stand he was noticed to lay something
upon the pine table in front of him, wrapped in his
handkerchief, He commenced his speech by an elu
sion to the reports that had been made, and when
he said that he was here to re assert and prove the
charges. Crockett said that ho was present to give
them the lie and whip the little lawyer that would
repeat them. When Fitzgerald reached the objec
tionable point, Crockett arose from his seat in the
audience and advanced toward the platform. When
within three or four ieet of it, Fiizgeraid suddenly
removed a pistol from his handkerchief, and
covering Col. Crockett’s breast, warned him
that a step further and he would fire. The move
was so unexpected; the appearance of the speaker so
cool and deliberate, that Crockett hesitated a second,
turned around and resumed his seat.
A Fowl Transaction.—The Vallejo
(Cal.) Chronicle relates the following Everybody
familiar with Mark Twain’s writings has laughed
over the story of the “ Jumping Frog of Cala
veras,” which, after being' crammed full of shot,
couldn’t hop. A similar joke was played off on the
owner of a game cock hereabouts. Having a bird of
a fine strain, he was perpetually bantering a neigh
i or who possessed a lot or dung-hill fowls, to pit one
of the latter against his game cock, Tao absurdity
ot such a proposition led to the conception of a plot
to take down the crowing propensities of the man of
game, and it was agreed that a combat should take
place. One evening, recently, the “ birds” were
brought together, the game cock plumed his wings,
crowed in exultation, arid with the proud head ot a
conqueror, stalked up to rooster No. 2. The com
bative nature of the latter was provoked, and with a
defiant crow he rased at No. 1. The two stuck at
each other with their spurs, but “ game”
over on his back. Gathering himself up, No. 1 again
flew into tho air, met the spurs of No. 2, and once
more tumbled over on his back. After repeating the
exoenment a half dozen times, with the same result,
the • owner of the game cock, considerably crest
fallen, admitted that his ** bird” was getting the
worst of it—he didn’t see why the latter should be
topplea over so easily, and acknowledged the game
cock to be beaten. Puzzling over the matter, the
owner of No. 1 examined the fowl, and, to his con
sternation, discovered that the “ bird” had been
stuffed 3 lull of large-sized bullets—how and m
what manner it is not necessary r to inquire. Enough
to say the game cock was too heavy in that part of
the body that gets over the fence last, and hence
could not preserve his natural equilibrium.
The Children of the Poor.—The
following extract from gentle Charles Lamb’s essays
is very beautiful, and, alas! uery true:
The innocent prattle of his children takes out the
sting of a man’s poverty. But the children of the
very poor do not prattle. It is none of tbe least
frightful fea.ures in tnat condition-that there is no
childishness in its dwelling. Poor people, said a
sensible o.d nurse to us once, do not brin-g up ttftir
children; they drag them up. The little careless
darling of the wea.th.er nursery, in their hovel, is
transformed betimes into a premature, reflective
person. No one has time to dandle it, no one thinks
it worth while to coax it. to sooihe it, to toss it up
and down, to humor it. There is none to kiss away
its tear«<. It it cries, it can only be beaten. It has
beau prettily said ih-at “ a babe is fed With milk and
praise.” Bui, the aliment of this poor babe was thin,
unnourish.ng; the return to its little baby tricks
and efforts to engape attention, bitter, ceaseless ob
jurgation. It never had a toy, or knew what coral
meant. It grew up without the lullaby ot nurses;
it was a stranger to the patient fondle, the hushing
caress, the attracting novelty, the costlier plaything,
or the cheaper off-hand oontrivauce to divert the
child; tho prattled nonsense (bestgseuse to it), the
wise impertinences, the wholesome lies, the apt
story interposed, that puts a stop to present suffer
ing, and awakens the passions ot young wonder. It
never sung to—no one ever told to it a tale Of
the nursery. It was dragged up, to live or to die, as
it happened. It bad no young dream. It broke at
once into the iron realities of life.
Ruling With A Rod of Iron.—
“To rule with a rod of iron” is a phrase, it is de
voutly to be hoped more figurative than founded in
reality. Still, we do occasionally hear of ruffianly
husbands breaking a pair of tongs over the skulls of
their wives ; Gibbon tells of a Turkish Sultan who
caused a disgraced favourite to be beaten to the
point of death with a bar of gold ; and says St.
Oiair in “Uncle Tom,” while conversing about the
training of Topsy, “I’ve seen the child whipped
with a poker.” The “rod of iron” theory seems to
have been moct recently put into practice by a char
woman named Mary Homer, residing at Stoke New-
I xngton, and described as “a savage and jU-coadition- j
Sunday Edition. November 5
ed woman,” who has been righteously sent td
prison for six months with hard labor for unmerci*
fully thrashing her little son with a piece of steel,
taken from her stays, studded yrith brass knobs!
The victim was a very small one— he was but twenty*
thr©o months old—rather a tender age at which to
begin correctional experiments witn a “rod of iron.’*
Iho instrument of torture had not only knobs, but
perforations, so that blisters were raised as well as
holos macle in the child’s flesh. The medioftl evt
done© showed that the baby’s body, legs, and' Arms
ware covered with purple spots, and that, beside,
his eyes had been blackened. We turn from this
horrible case of cruelty to another equally revolting,
although different in degree. The Axbridge Board
of Guardians is ab.out to take proceedings against a
“highly lespectablc” inhabitant of the village of
Cheddar, in Somersetshire, for shutting up andmal*
treating a poor imbecile lady, his own mother. The
miserable creature was found, half-naked and
wallowing in filth, in a room lighted by one small
broken window, through which her food was passed
by her gaoler. She had a glimmering of sense suffi
cient to understand the shamefulness of her plight,
and endeavored to shade herself from the eyes of
the Inspector of Nuisances by holding before her
the tattered remains of an umbrella. Here we have
two opposite poles of the Devil’s world of cruelty j
A demoniacal emother torturing her child ; an un
natural son ill-treating his parent—which is worse t
It might puzzle the most cunning of casuists to solve
the question.— London Telegraph.
Wine-Making by Steam.—We vis
ited, says tho Los Angeles (Cal.) Express, the wine
maxing establishment of Al. Kellar, on Alameda
street, and were amazed at the rapidity witn which,
grapes are smashed by C. Wadham’s new patent
crusher. It is capable of crushing all the grapes in
the valley, its capacity being only limited by the
supply of grapes and sufficient force to carry off the
must as it rushes forth in streams. At one end, th®
streams, thoroughly separated, are thrown out, th®
white wine from white or b.aok grapes rushes out on
one side, and the red wine at the other. This is th®
kind of grape-crushing machine that the French and
Germans have been trying to invent for centuries,
achieved at last by California. The crowd of laborers
by whom this strange machine is served, Is of th®
most cosmopolitan character. The hands that sup
ply the grapes and pump off the wine, and carry off
the marc, are Olegario Indians. headed by their chief,
Thomas. The engineer is a Shaking Quaker from
Lebanon. Tho feeder is a native Australian, Ona
cooper is a Canadian, and anothep an Alascan. The
great box-litter is a tall Missourian. The white win®
guide is a Teuton—the whole being guided under
the spiritual supervision of Father Wadhame; while
Keller himself officiates as high priest of the per
formance. Altogether, it is an institution that it
worth seeing in full blast.
An Astonishing Monarch.—The In
dian Public Opinion publishes the following extract
from the diary of the Shah of Persia; “ The King of
Kings amuses himself all the Summer months In
the hunting grounds to the north of Persia, and
now enlightens his people by sending his diary
written in the ‘Duskhutt 1 Mobaruk’ (his own
blessed handwriting) to the Times of Persia, the
only newspaper in the land, published weekly. Th®
following is an instance of one day—and from one
learn all. *1 got up very early this morning and
drank my tea, mounted the white horse given
by , and took the French gun, which is loaded
from, behind. Several of my princes accompanied
me; my army followed. We soon put ux> an ante-
Ibpe—atl fired at it, but did not hit it, a great grief
to us. I arrived for breakfast. After eating, marched
toward . Saw a hare, fired at it myself, and shot
it with such skill that all the army were aston
ished.’ ”
«.The following is an extract from a private diary of
the same date: “Twelve thousand people diedin
Ispahan this Spring of starvation, twenty-seven
thousand in this province, and bad bread sold for
sixpence a pound. We have as bad a time before us
again.”
An Illinois Hercules.—The Chi
cago Tribune tells this story of a strong man,,
named John Gilvin, of Decatur, who was helping to
get a safe out of the ruins on South Water street,
near tho Union depot. Tbe men Lad got the safe
nearly up on the sidewalk when it slipped back on
them. This man came alonir, and asked what was
the matter with the safe, and one of them said it had
slipped off the rollers and gone back on them. H®
said: “Get out of my way,” and seizing on It like
Samson, lifted it up, wal ■ed to the wagon with it
ten or twelve feet, and threw it on the wagon. He
caught it on the bottom edges, raised it up with the
force levered against his breast, and walked off with
it. The proprietor said it weighed 2,446 pounds.
The man offered to bet SSOO that he could lift and
carry 8,000 pounds. He is about five feet ten oi
elevon inches high, weighs perhaps 260 pounds, built
like a Hercules, and about thirty-eight years old. He
was a boss bncklaj er m Macon.
Colossal Bridges.—ln regard to
bridge building, wo live in a remarkable period.
Cincinnati has now the greatest suspension bridge
completed, which will be only surpassed by that
over the East River between New York and Brook
lyn. Louisville has its great Ohio Railroad bridge,
over a mite in length, with spans 400 foot long, and
costing one and half million dollars. St. Louis is
completing its colossal bridge over the Father of
Waters, the combined Mississippi and Missouri
rivers; while in Buffalo the iron International
Bridge, over the Niagara river, is progressing fairly,
the fourth caisson being, sunk in forty-iwo feet of
water, white the piers, each twenty feet above
water, are connected by temporary scaffolding. Th®
land abutments are of the most solid kind, and
founded on the lime-rock below tho sand. It will
rest on seven pieas with iron archos, and with th®
embankments, it will be over half a mile long.
Rep Van Winkle Still Lives.—Rip
Van Winkle has turned up in Green county. H®
lives in the eastern part of Big Hollow, town ®f
■Windham, secluded from all observation. He saya
his name is Martin Carr, but, of course, he must ba
laboring under hallucination, for, from the following
description, he can be no other than the original
“Rip.” His hut is but rudely constructed of rough
boards, and his only companion is a cat. His nearest
neighbor lives over a miie distant. He is nearly
nude; but a few rags tied up in an inexplicable
shape aoout his person partially conceal his naked
ness. He is about seventy years of age. can neither
read nor write, and knows notiling about what i®’
going on in trie world. His hair and board almost
hide is swarthy lace, which gives him a hideous ap
pearance. He sees no human being unless they
visit him out of curiosity.
Twenty Dollars for Flowers.—
The Gartenlaube publishes an amusing article on the
theatrical claque in Berlin, in which the following is
related about Mdl e. Vestvali, the female Hamlets
“She wanted to have bouqueis and wreaths thrown’
to her. I demanded twenty dollars for it, which she
said was too much for one night. But I explained
the whole thing to her. * Madame,’ I said, ’the
twenty dollars are sufficient for two weeks. To-day,
I and my men will throw tho bouquets to you from
the first tier. After the periormance is over, I shall
take the flowers h-ome with me in a basket, put them
in water, and leave them there all night and the fol
lowing day. To-morrow night, no one in the au
dience will find out that tho bouquets have been
used belore.’ Thereupon she paid me tho sum I had
demanded.”
A Lunatic Who Thought Himself
Patriotic. —A small farmer residing in the hamlet
of Viilebeau, France, has in a fit of meatal aberration,
deprived himself of sight, that he might no longer
be a witness of the occupation of bis country by the
Prussians who had burned down all his property in
his presence, a member of his family perishing in
the flames. He had often threatened he would tear
out his eves, and everything that could ba
thought dangerous was kent out of his way. He,
however, got hold of a book which described th®
Chinese method of blinding offenders of high posi
tion by placing a small poriion of quick lime over
the eyes and tying it down with a wet bandage. H®
procured some lime, applied it in the manner, and
destroyed his sight
A Horrible Death.—Ono of the
most horrible cases ot glanders in a human being
ever heard of occurred in the deighborhood of Waver
ton, Mass., a week or two since. A man, while at*
tending to a horse, got’some of the virus from thqnose
or mouth of a glaudered horse into a cue upon one of
the thumbs, and a short time thereafter was taken
with frightful spasms, succeeded by fearful sickness
and prostration. Medical .assistance was obtained,
and though every reasonable attention was given th®
man (notwithstanding the report that he was de
serted by his neighbors), he died in a most horrible
manner some six or seven days afterward. His
body became a mass of ulcers, and at the time of hi®
dissoiuiiou the flesh literally fell in pieces from his
bones. This is one of the most dreadfnl cases on
record.
“ Dis Chile Gwine to Die Right
Now.”—A lady was reading to her servants an Re
count of the Chicago fire. Toe incident of th®
burning of the Emancipation Proclamation arrested
the attention of one o d colored woman—-a slave all
herli.c —who viewed the proclamation much as th®
Israelites did the a: kof the covenant. “ What» dat,”
she said, “burned up?” “Yes, aunty, burned up.’®
“Den what gwine come of us again?” “I don’t
know, may be you’ll be slaves as before.” “ Den di®
chile gwiue to die right now.” And throwing up her
hands in dismay, she left the presence of her mis--
tress, visiting dire imprecations on the head of th®
man “ who sot out dat fire.” —2Y. O. Picayune.
A Singular Suit. —An Austrian
surgeon has got in to trouble in a singular way. A
burgomaster, named Kiym, gored in the side by
a wild bull, and the doctor who was summoned to
attend tide injured man wore a gold ring, which
slipped off his finger during the operation and re
mained in the wound. The loss was not noticed w
til after the wound had been dressed, and it was not
thought proper to put the unfortunate in greater
danger by endeavoring to remove the ring. The
burgomaster died, and the surgeon has since been
airested on the charge that death had been caused,,
not by the wound, but by inflammation produced by
the ring.
Ludicrous.—ln tho city of Cleve
land, Ohio, reside two brothers by the name of Lit
tle, who regularly attend the same church, and hap
pened a few Sabbaths since to be late, having ar
rived just as tho minister arose to give out his text.
Their seats happened to bo situated on opiicsit®'
sides of the church, and wall up toward the pu’pit,
each going up a broad aisie on either side. Starting
from the vestibule at the same time, what was their
astonishment, on arriving nearly at their seats, to
hear the minister announce as his text, with a flour
ish of the hand, “Here a atale and there a little,”
Here is a Woman as is a Woman.—
The ro’lowing is the salutatory of an Oregon editressi
••We have served a regular apprenticeship at work
inK—washing, scrubbing, patching, darning, ironing,
plain sewing, raising babies, churning and poultry
raising, We have kept boarders, taught school,
taught music, written for the newspapers, made
speeches, and carried on an extensive millinery and
dressmaking business. We cau prove by to o publio
that this work has been well done. Now, having
reached the age of thirty-six, and having brought up
a family of boys to set type, and a daughter to run,
the millinery store, we propose to edit a newspaper,
and we intend to establish itys one of the permauODi
institutions of the country.”
An Unlucky Family.—Edward At*
wood, who resides near Grinnell, lowa, was kicked
by a horse, the other day, and has since died. Th®
TTerald savs- There is rather a singular history con<
Sd wuu ux.s family. We learn that the faihes
.nA mother oi him whose deate we record were on
their way to bob their children, then living in Illinois,
as naasongerß on the steamer Niagara, on Lake Erie,
when that noble vessel was lost some years ago, and
they with many others, sank beneath the eternal
waters- There were then three sons left, one ot
whom was killed In the last war, another was killed
by the Kick of a horse, and yew Edward has inaj
with B similar fate-

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