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Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, December 24, 1879, Image 1

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Per year, in advance SI 50
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SnlMuribera removing from one poatofließ to
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&, well a* the present office.
All commuuic-'iona intends! for publication
in tllia paper oi U n l be McompsQiod by the real
name of the writer, not for publication, but a»
a ~;.aiantee of cood fuitli.
Mirriagfi and death notices must be accompa
nied by a responsible name.
Ac" 1 -ii' THE BUTt . fiR CITIZKW,
Valuable Farm for iSale.
The undersigned offers at private «alo thn
farm lately owned by Robert Oilleland. dee'd,
lato of Midilienex township, containing
162 A crew,
more or lens, with a two-**lory brick botiM and
bank b-irn, lav hon.-e wagoa shed and other
c Mocildinge. "Two fiood orchards thereon. 13J
acres clened. balance in timber, 3a-.\ of
sovrs. lv about oue-liaif mile from Butler and
Pittsburgh plank road and ijf miles irom new
narrow-gnnKe railroad, is v eil improved and in
pood condition, and is well adapted for dairy
I 'ir|>os«s. For terrnw applyto
decl'lf] Bakerstown, Allegheny Co., Pa.
Valuable Town Piopcrty
The undert wishes to seli the following
tfeeciibed property in tiio borough of Bntler,
Butler comity; Pa.:
TWO LOIS. 20 feet front each, and running
back 1" feet, located on Main street, adjoining
the Iljclen-teiuproperty.*
SIX LOTS fronting on Cunningham street,
SO feet each in front aud pinning back 120 leet.
I will also sell the RPIOK and Fit AM K build
ing* erected ou part of the same property from
which the alsive lots are taken, together with
the grennd on which they stand.
AIso—FIVE ACHES within the borough of
Duller, uu tie old Metccr road, originally owned
by Jatno- M. Bredin. Esq
AIso—FORTY ACHES of coal land in Wash
ington township, originally owned by Patrick
O'Connor, and near to the Sheuwigo Railroad
K '"For terms applt to the undersigned, living
in Butler. " PATRICK KELLY.
Administrator's Sale.
By virtue ol an order and decree of the Or
v,harts' Court of Etitler county, to me directed,
J wi ! offer for sale at pablis outcry on the prem
ie-, in Winfleid township. Bntler county, ou
Friday, Dec. 26th, 1879.
the farm 'ately o.rnf l by John Post, dee'd, con
tj-iiiinj; ono hundred and six «ure*. more or lets,
bounded north by August Acre et a!., east by
(jaibreitli. south by Tiiouoas Bickt»tt et al. and j
nest by Casper Freeliug: mostly cleared and
linger cultivation; dwelling house, barn and
other outbuildings thereon.
TERMS—One-third in hand ou confirmation
of and the remainder in two equal annual
instalments, with lawful interest, to be secured
bv bond and mortgage.
doc3-4t Administrator.
For teale.
The well-improved farm of Rev. W. R. Hutch- '
ißon.ln rUr> northeast corner of Middlesex town
ship, Butler eouiilv. Pa.. is now offered for sale j
10 .v. Inquire of W. K. FItISBEE, on the prem
iPßP. aplfitf
Situated in and nc.ir the
—OS THE- •
Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe R. R.
11 Years' Credit. 7 per «nt. Interest
Tie first payment at d te of purchase Is otic- I
tenth of thc-f rincip.il and seven percent, inter-
e c t on the rciuait.der. At the end of ;he first
and second yifir, only the iotercel at feven per
cent, is paid"; and the iliiid yetr, and each year j
thereafter, one tenth or t'.o piinripal, with
•even per cent, li:'.crest on the ba'acer, is paid
annually until th" whole is p..id.
Six years' credit, -0 per cent, discount.
Two years" credit. per e« ut. discount.
Ca«b purchase. 33 1-8 per cent, discount 1
The valley of the Upper Arkan<ax is jti>tlv 1
celebrated for its adaptability to WHEAT <
RAISING and the. ftiperlor qu.uitv ol it> u'rain
country, it oiler? advantages that cannot bv ex
cel led." Good soil, iibutidancu of pure water, a .
mild and retnarkabiy healthy climate, with low
prices and easy terms, make tip a total of in
ducements greater than is offered anywhere else
on the continent of America.
Fir lull particulars, luqulre of or addres6
General Eastern Passenger Asrrnf.
my'M-ly] 41!t Broadway. N. Y.
lt>o Main St . Buffalo, N. Y.
myai-ly] BUTLER, PA. J
Alrt l Ajnnn 1 Invented 111 Wall St. stocks j
IM JlO U UuU] makcs fortt,,,es cvei 7
VIU IU V'WUU j month Riok gent free ex
pl&inintf everything. Address
' BAXTER & CO., Bunkers.
C et9 7 Wall street N. Y.
Exclusively devoted to the practical educa
tion of young and miildic-aged men, for active
business life. School always in session. Stu
dents can enter at any time. jZsEMScad for
J. C. SMITH, A. M., Principal,
sept24-3m Pittsbilrgli, Pa.
i)EI\'TIS'i S.
ot§ WALORON. Gn dQate of Uie Phil-
HL adelphia Dental College, i» prepared
• i* •to do anything in the line of hi*
profe.s-lon In a ?atl j f:«ctory manner.
Ollice on Main street, Butler, Union blork,
m> stdrs. a:>ll
ncT L E it. r A..
Wsi. Cahpbeix. J.VS. D. ASDCTSOK,
President. "Vice President.
Vtv. C.VJCFEETJI., Jr., Caefiior.
William Campbell, J. W. Irwin,
.tas. I). Anderson, George Weber,
Joseph L. Purvis.
Poes a General Banking k Exchanpe business.
Interest piid on time deposits. Collections made
and prompt returns at low rates of Exchange.
Gold Exchange and Government Bonds bought
and sold. Commercial paper, bonds, judgment
and othersecnrities bought at fair rates ia2o:ly
Mutual Fire Insurance Co.
Office Cor. Main and Cunn'mgham Sts.
J.L.Purvis, E. A. Helmboldf,
William Campbell, J. VV. Burkhart,
A. Troutman, j Jacob Schoeue,
G. C. Ruesxinif, John Caldwell,
Dr. W. Irvln, Samuel Marshall,
J. W.Chrlstv j H. C. Heineman.
V 7 OL. xvi r.
How and Where the Pickwick Club of
London Spent Their Christmas.
As brisk as bees, if not altogether
as light as fairies, did the four Pick
wickians assemble on the morning of
the 22nd day of December, in the year
of grace in which these, their fa'th
fullv recorded adventures, were under
taken and accomplished. Christmas
was close at hand, in all his bluff and
hearty honesty: it was the season of
hospitality, merriment, and open
heartcdness; the old year was pre
paring, like an ancient philosopher, to
call his friends around him. and amidst
the sound of feasting- and revelry to
pass gently and calmly away. Gay
and merry was the time, and gay and
merry were fit least four of the nu
merous hearts that were gladdened by
its coming.
And numerous indeed are the hearts
to which Christmas brings a brief sea
son of happiness and enjoyment. How
many families, whose members have
beCu dispersed antl scattered far and
wide in the restless struggles of life,
are then reunited, aud meet once again
in that happy state of companionship
and mutual good will, which is a
source of such pure and unalloyed
delight, and one so incompatible with
the cares and sorrows of the world,
that the religious belief of the most
civilized nations, and the rude tradi
tions of the roughest savages, alike
number it among the first joys of a
future existence, provided for the blest
and happy! llow many old recollec
tions, and how many dormant sympa
thies, does Christmas time awaken !
We write these words now, many
milos distant from the spot at which,
year after j*ear, we met on that day, a
merry and joyous circle. Many of
the hearts that throbbed so gaily then,
have ceased to glow; the hands we
grasped have grown cold ; the eves we
sought have hid their lustre in the
grave; and yet the old house, the
room, the merry voices and smiling
faces, the jest, the laugh, the most
minute and trivial circumstance con
nected with those happy meetings,
crowd upon our mind at each recur
rence of the season, as if the last as
semblage had been but yesterday!
Happy, happy Christmas, that can
win us back to the delusions of our
childish days; that can recall to the
old man the pleasures of his youth ;
that can transport the sailor and the
traveler, thousands of miles away,
back to his own fireside and his quiet
Bnt we are so taken up and occu- 1
pied with the good qualities of this (
saint Christmas, that we are keeping j
Mr. Pickwick and his friends waiting
in the cold on the outside of the Mag- !
gh'ton coach, which they have just 1
attained, well wrapped op in gre:it
coats, shawls and comforters. The '
portmanteaus and carpet-bags have
been stowed away, and Mr. Weller
and the guard are endeavoring to in
sinuate into the for" boot a huge cod- 1
fish several sizes too large for it—
which is snuirly packed up, in a lotog
brown basket with a layer of straw
over the top, and which has been left
to the last, in order that he may re
pose in safety on the half-dozen barrels
of real native oysters, all the property
of Mr. I'ickwick, which have been ar
ranged in regular order at the bottom
of the receptacle. The interest dis
played in .Air. Pickwick's countenance
is most intense, as Mr. Weller and the
guard try io squeeze the codfish into
the boot, first head first, and then tail
first, and then top upward, and then
bottom upward, and then sideways,
and then longways, all of which arti
fices the •implacable codfish sturdily
resists, until the guard accidentally
hits him in the very middle of the
basket, whereupon he suddenly disap
pears into the boot, and with him, the
head and shoulders of the guard him
self, who, not calculating upon so
sudden a cessation of the unexpected
shock, to the unsmotherable delight of
ul! the porters and bystanders. Upon
this, Mr. Pickwick smiles with great
good humor, and drawing a shilling
from his waistcoat pocket, begs the
guard, as he picks himself out of the
boot, to drink his health in a glass of
hot brandy and water ; at which the
guard smiles too, and Messrs. Snod
,'jrass, Winkle and Ttipman, all smile
in company. The guard and Mr.
Weller disappear for five minutes,
most probably to get the hot brandy
and water, for they smell very strongly
of it when they return, the coachman
mounts to the box, Mr. Weller jumps
up behind, the Pickwickians pull their
coats round their legs and their shawls
over their noses, the helpers pull the
horse-cloths off, the coachman shouts a j
cheery "All right," and away they go.
They have rumbled through the
streets, and jolted over the stones, and
at length reach the wide and open
country. The wheels skim over the
hard and frosty ground ; and the horses,
bursting into a canter, at a smart crack
of the whip, step along the road as if i
the load behind them, coach, passen
gers, codfish, oyster barrels, and all,
were but a feather at their heels. They
have descended a genlle slope, and en
ter upon a level, as compact and dry
as a solid block of marble, two miles
long. Another crack of the whip and
on they speed at a smart gallop; the
horses tossing their heads and rattling
the harness, as if in exhiliration at the
rapidity of the motion, while the
coachman, holding whip and reins in
one hand, takes off his hat with the
other, and resting it on his knees, pulls
out his handkerchief and wipes his
forehead, partly because he has a habit
of doing it, and partly because its as
well to slow the passengers how cool
he is, and what an easy thing it is to
drive four-in-hand, when you have had
as much practice us he has. Having
done this very leisurely (otherwise the
effect would be materially impaired),
he replaces his handkerchief, pulls on
his.hat, adjusts his gloves, squares his
elbows, cracks the whip again, and on
they speed, more mefrily than before.
A few small houses, scattered on
either side of the road, betoken the
entrance to some town or village.
, The lively notes of the guard's key
bugle vibrate in the rteor crffol air. anil
wake up the old gentleman inside, who,
carefully letting down the window sash
half way, and standing sentry over
the air, takes a short peep out, and
then carefully pulling it up again, in
forms the other inside that they're
going to change directly; on which
the other inside wakes himself up, and
determines to postpone his next nap
until after the stoppage. Again the
bugle sounds lustily forth, and rouses
the cottager's wife and children, who
peep out at the house door and watch
the coach till it turns the corner, when
they once more crouch round the fire,
and throw on another log of wood
against father comes home; while
father himself, a full mile off, has just
exchanged a friendly nod with the
I coachman, and turned round to take a
good long stare at the vehicle as it
whirls away.
And now the bugle plays a lively
air as the coach rattles through the ill
paved street of a country town, and
the coachman, undoing the buckle
which keeps his ribands together, pre
pares to throw them off the moment
he stops. Mr. Pickwick emerges from
his coat collar, and looks about him
with great curiosity ; perceiving which,
the coachman informs Mr. Pickwick of
the name of the town, and tells him it
was market-day yesterday, bofh of
which pieces of information Mr. Pick
wick retails to his fellow-passengers,
whereupon they emerge from their
coat collars too, ami look about them
also. Mr. Winkle, who sits at the ex
treme edge, with one leg dangling in
the air, is nearly precipitated into the
street as the coach twists round the
sharp corner by the cheesemonger's
shop, and turns into the market-place ;
and before Mr. Snodgrass, who sits
next to him, has recovered from his
alarm, they pu'l up at the inn yard,
where the fresh horses, with cloths on,
are already waiting. The coachman
throws down the reins and gets down
himself, and the other outside passen
gers drop down also, except those who
have no great confidence in their abil
ity to get up again, and they remain
where they are, and stamp their feet
against the coach to warm them—
looking, with longing eyes and red
noses, at the bright fire in the inn bar,
and the sprigs of holly with red ber
ries which ornament the window.
But the guard has delivered at the
corn dealer's shop the brown-paper
packet he took out of the little pouch
which hangs over his shoulder by a
leathern strap; and has seen the horses
carefully put to; and has thrown on the
pavement the saddle which was brought
from London on the coach-roof; and has
assisted in the couference between the
coachman and the hostler about the
grey mare that hurt her off fore-leg last
Tuesday; and he and Mr. Weller are all
right behind, and the coachman is all
right in front, and the old gentleman
inside, who has kept the window down
full two inches all this time, has pulled
it up again, and the cloths are off, and
they are all ready for starting, except
the "two stout gentlemen," whom the
coachman inquires after witli some im
patience. Hereupon the coachman, and
the guard, and Sam Weller, and Mr.
Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass, and all the
hostlers, and every one of the idlers,
who are more in number than all the
others put together, shout for the miss
ing gentlemen as loud as they can
bawl. A distant response is heard from
the yard, antl Mr. Pickwick and Mr.
Tupman come running down it quite
out of breath, for they have been hav
ing a glass of ale apiece, and Mr. Pick
wick's fingers are so cold that he has
been full five minutes before he could
find the sixpence to pay for it. The
coachman shouts an admonitory "Now
then, gen'l'm'n!" the guard re-echoes
it; the old gentleman inside thinks it a
very extraordinary thing that people
will get down when they know there
isn't time for it; Mr.' Pickwick strug
gles up on one side, Mr. Tupman on
the other; Mr. Winkle cries "All
right!" and off they start. Shawls are
pulled up, coat collars are readjusted,
the pavement ceases, the houses disap
pear, and they are once again dashing
along the open road, with the fresh
clear air blowing in their faces, and
gladdening their very hearts within
Such was the progress of Mr. Pick
wick and his friends by the Muggleton
Telegraph, on their way to Dingley
Dell; and at three o'clock that after
noon they all stood, high and dry, safe
and sound, hale and hearty, upon the
steps of the Blue Lion, having taken
on the road quite enough of' ale and
brandy to enable them to bid defiance
to the frost that was binding up the
earth in its iron fetters, and weaving
its Ijeautiful network upon the trees
and hedges. Mr. Pickwick was busily
engaged in counting the barrels of
oysters and superintending the disin
terment of the codfish, when he felt
himself gently pulled by the skirts of
the coat. Looking round, he discovered
that the individual who resorted to
this mode of catching his attention was
no other than Mr. Wardle's favorite
page, better known to the readers of
this unvarnished history, by the dis
tinguished appellation of the fat boy.
"Ahi!" said Mr. Pickwick.
"Aha !" said the fat bov.
As he said it, he glanced from the
codfish to the oyster barrels, uud chuck
led joyously. He was fatter than ever.
"Well, you look rosy enough, my
young friend," said Mr. Pickwick.
"I've been asleep, right in front of
the tap-room fire," replied the fat boy,
who had heated himself to the color
of a new chimney pot, in the course
of an hour's nap. "Master sent me
over with the shay-cart, to carry j'our
luggage up to the house. He'd ha' sent
some saddle-horses, but he thought
you'd rather walk, being a cold day."
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Pickwick
hastily, for he remembered how they
had travelled over nearly the same
ground on a previous occasion. "Yes,
we would rather walk. Here, Sam!"
"Sir," said Mr. Weller.
"Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put
the packages into tbo cart, and then
ride on with him. We will walk for
ward at once."
Having given this direction, and
settled with the coachman, Mr. Pick
wick and his three friends struck into
footpath across the fHds, and
walked brisk!} - away, leaving Mr
Weller antl the fat boy confronted to
g-ether for the first time. Sam looked
at the fai boy with great astonishment,
but without saying a word ; ami began
to stow the luggage rapidly away in
the cart, while the fat boy stood quietly
by, and seemed fo think it a very
interesting sort of thing to see Mr.
W'-ller working by himself.
"There,'' said Sam, throwing in the
last earpet-bag, "There they are!*'
"Yes," said the fat boy, in a very
satisfied tone, 'There they are !"
"Veil, young twenty stun," said
Sam, "you're a nice specimen of a prize
boy, you are!"
Thank'ee," said the fat bov.
"You ain't got nothin'on your mind
as makes you fret yourself, have you?"
inquired Sam.
"Not as I knows on," replied the
fat boy.
"1 should rayther ha' thought, to
look at you, that you was laborin'
under an unrequited attachment to
some young 'ooman," said Sam.
"Veil," said Sam, "I'm glad to hear
it. I)o vou ever drink anvthin'?"
"I likes eating better," replied the
"Ah," said Sam, "I should ha'
sposed that; but what I mean is,
should you like a drop of inythin' as
'd warm you ? but I s'pose you never
was cold, with all them elastic fixtures,
was you ?"
"Sometimes," replied the boy ; "and
I likes a drop of something, when it's
"Oh, you do, do yon ?" said Sam ;
"come this way, then!"
The Blue Lion tap was soon gained,
and the fat boy swallowed a glass of
liquor without so much as winking;
a feat which considerably advanced
him in Mr. Weller's good opinion. Mr.
Weller having transacted a similar
piece of business on his own account,
they got into the cart.
"Can you drive ?" said the fat boy.
"I should rayther think so," replied
"There, then," said the fat boy, put
tin? the reins in his hand, and pointing
up a lane, "it's as straight as you can
go ; you can't miss it."
With those words the fat boy laid
himself affectionately down by the side
of the cod fish ; and placing an oyster
barrel under his head for a pillow, fell
asleep instantaneously.
"Well," said Sam, "of all the cool
boys ever I set my eyes on, this here
young gen'l'm'n is the coolest. Come,
wake up, young dropsy!"
But as young dropsy evinced no
symptoms of returning animation, Sam
Weller sat himself down in front of the
cart, and starting the old horse with a
jerk of the rein, jogged.steadily on
towards Manor Farm.
Meanwhile, Mr. Pickwick and his
friends having walked their blood into
active circulation, proceeded cheerfully
on. The paths were hard ; the grass
was crisp and frosty ; the air had a
fine, dry, bracing coldness; antl the
rapid approach of the grey twilight
(slate-colored is a better term in frosty
weather) made them look forward with
pleasant anticipation to the comforts
which awaited them at their hospitable
entertainer's. It was the sort of an
afternoon that might induce a couple
of elderly gentlemen, in a lonely field,
to take off their great coats and play
at leap-frog in pure lightness of heart
antl gaiety ; and we firmly believe that
hail Mr. Tupman at that moment prof
fered "a back" Mr. Pickwick would
have accepted his offer with the utmost
However, Mr. Tupman did not vol
unteer any such accommodation, and
the friends walked,"on, conversing mer
rily. As they turned into a lane they
had to cross, the sound of many voices
burst upon their ears ; and before they
even had time to form a guess to whom
they belonged, they walked into the
very centre of the party who were
expecting their arrival—a fact which
was first notified to the Pickwickians,
bv the loud "Hurrah," which burst
from old Wardle's lips, when they ap
peared in sight.
First, there was Wardle himself,
looking, if possible, more jolly than
ever; then there were Bella and her
faithful Trundle; and, lastly, there
were Emily and some eight or ten
I young ladies, who had all come down
to the wedding, which was to take
place next day, aud who were in as
happy and important a state as young
ladies usually are, on such momentous
occasions; and they were, one and all,
startling the fields antl lanes, far and
wide, with their frolic and laughter.
The ceremony of introduction, under
such circumstances, was very soon per
formed, or we should rather say that
the introduction was soon over, with
out anv ceremony at all. In two min
utes thereafter, Mr. Pickwick was
joking with the young ladies who
wouldn't come over the stile while he
looked—or who, having pretty feet and
unexceptionable ankles, preferred stand
ing ou the top rail for five minutes or
so, declaring they were too frightened to
move—with as much ease and absence
of reserve or constraint, as if he had
known them for life. Jt is worthy of
remark, too, that Mr. Snodgrass offered
Emily far more assistance than the
absolute terrors of the stile (although
it was full three feet high, and had
only a couple of stepping-stones) would
seem to require ; while one black-eyed
young lady in a very nice little pair of
boots with fur round the top, was ob
served to scream very loudly, when
Mr. Winkle offered to help her over.
* All this was very snug and pleasant.
And when the difficulties of the stile
were at last surmounted, and they
once more entered on the open field,
old Wardle informed Mr. Pickwick
how they had all been down in a body
to inspect the furniture and fittings-up
of the house, which the young couple
were to tenant, after the Christmas
holidays; at which communication
Bella and Trundle both colored up, as
red as the fat boy after the tap-room
fire; and the young lady with the
black eyes and the fur round the boots,
■ whispered something in Emily's ear,
aud then glanced archly at Mr. Snod
grass; to which Emily responded that
■ she was a foolish girl, but turned very
i red, notwithstanding; and Mr. Snod
-1 grass, wfro w«« as mtKleet'ag all gr<*at
geniuses usually are. felt the crimson
rising to the crown of his head, and
devoutly wished in the inmost re
cesses of his own heart that the y'.mg
ladv aforesaid, with her black eyes,
ami her archness, and her boots with
the fur round the top. were ail com
fortably deposited in the adjacent
count v.
But if they were social and happy
outside the house, what was the
warmth and cordiality of their recep
tion when they reached the farm !
The very servant grinned with pleas
ure at sight of Mr. Pickwick: and
Emma bestowed a half-demure, half
impudent. and all pretty look of recog
nition, on Mr. Tupman, which was
enough to make the statue of Bona
parte in the passage, unfold his arms,
and clasp her within them.
The old lady was seated in custo
mary state in the front parlor, but she
was rather cross, and, by consequence,
most particularly deaf. She never
went out herself, and like a great
many other old ladies of the same
stamp, she was apt to consider it an
act of domestic treason, if anybody
else took the liberty of doing what she
couldn't. So, bless her old soul, she
sat as upright as she could, in her
great chair, and looked as fierce as
might lie—and that was benevolent
after all.
"Mother," said Wardle, "Mr. Pick
wick. You recollect him ?"
"Never mind," replied the old ladv
with great dignity. "Don't trouble
Pickwick about an old creetur like me.
Nobody cares about me now, and it's
very nat'ral they shouldn't." Here
the old lady tossed her head and
smoothed down her lavender-colored
silk dress with trembling hands.
"Come, come, ma'am," said Mr.
Pickwick. "I can't let you cut an old
friend in this way. I have come down
expressly to have a long talk, anu
another rubber with you; and we'll
show these boys and girls how to
dance a minuet, before they're eight
and-fortv hours older."
The old lady was rapidly giving
way, but she did not like to do it all
at once; so she only said, "Ah! I
can't hear him!"
"Nonsense, mother." said Wardle.
"Come, come, don't be cross, there's a
good soul. Recollect Bella ; come,
you must keep her spirits up, poor
The good old lady heard this, for
her lips quivered as her son said it
But ago has its little infirmities of
temper, and she was not quite brought
round yet. So, she smoothed down
the lavender-colored dress again, and
turning to Mr. Pickwick, said, "Ah,
Mr. Pickwick, young people was very
different when I was a girl."
"No doubt of that, ma'am," said
Mr. Pickwick, "and that's the reason
why I would make much of the few
that have any traces of the old stock,"
and saying this, Mr. Pickwick gently
pulled Bella towards him, and bestow
ing a kiss upon her forehead, bade her
sit down on the little stool at her
grandmother's feet. Whether the ex
pression of her countenance, as it was
raised towards the old lady's face,
called up a thought of old times, or
whether the old lady was touched by
Mr. Pickwick's affectionate good na
ture, or whatever was the cause, she
was fairly melted ; so she threw her
self on her granddaughter's neck, and
all the little ill-humor evaporated in a
gush of silent tears.
A happy party they were, that
night. Sedate and solemn were the
score of rubbers in which Mr. Pick
wick and the old lady played together;
uproarious was the mirth of the round
table. Long after the ladies had re
tired. did the hot elder wine, well
qualified with brandy and spice, go
round, and round, and round again;
and sound was the sleep and pleasant
were the dreams that followed. It is
a remarkable fact that those of Mr.
Snodgrass bore constant reference to
Emily Wardle; and that the principal
figure in Mr. Winkle's visions was a
young lady with black eyes, an arch
smile, and a pair of remarkably nice
boots with fur round the tops.
Mr. Pickwick was awakened early
in the morning, by a hum of voices
and a pattering of feet, sufficient to
rouse even the fat boy from his slum
bers. He sat up in bed and listened.
The female servants and female vis
itors were running constantly to and
fro; and there were such multitudi
nous demands for hot water, such re
peated outcries for needles and thread,
and so many half-suppressed entrea
ties of "Oh, do come and tic me,
there's a dear!" that Mr. Pickwick in
his innocence began to imagine that
something dreadful must have occur
red ; when he grew more awake, and
remembered the wedding. The oc
casion being an important one he
dressed himself with peculiar care, and
descended to the breakfast-room.
There were all the female servants I
in a bran new uniform of pink muslin
gowns with white bows in their caps,
running about the house in a state of
excitement and agitation which it
would be impossible to describe. The
old ladv was dressed out in a brocaded
gown which had not seen the light for
twenty years, saving and excepting
such truant rays'as had stolen through
the chinks in the box in which it had
been lain by, during the whole time.
Mr. Trundle was in high feather and
spirits, but a little nervous withal.
The hearty old landlord was trying
to look very cheerful and unconcerned,
but failing signally in the attempt.
All the girls were in tears and white
muslin, except a select two or three
who were being honored with a private
view of the bride antl bridesmaid, up
stairs. All the Pickwickians were in
most blooming array; and there was
a terrific roaring on the grass in front
of the house, occasioned by all the
men, boys anil hobbledhoys attached
to the farm, each of whom had got a
white bow in his button-hole, and all
of whom were cheering with might
and main; being incited thereto, and
stimulated therein, by the precept and
example of Mr. Samuel Weller, who
had managed to become mighty pup
ular already, and was as much at
home as if he had been born on the
A wedtligg ie 4 lim*9ed gubfcot to
joke upon, but there really is no great
joke in the matter after all—we speak
merely of thf> ceremony, and beg it to
bedistinctly understood that we in
dulge in no hidden sarcasm upon a
married life. Mixed up with the
pleasure antl joy of the occasion are
the many regrets at quitting home,
the tears of parting between parent
and child, the consciousness of leaving
the dearest and kindest friends of the
happiest portion of human life, to en
counter its cares and troubles with
others still untried and little known ;
natural feelings which we would not
render this chapter mournful by des
cribing, and which we should be still
more unwilling to be supposed to
Let us briefly say, then, that the
ceremony was performed by the old
clergyman, in the parish church of
Pinglcy Pell, and that Mr. Pickwick's
name is attached to the register, still
preserved in the vestry thereof; that
the young lady with the black eyes
signed her name in a very unsteady
and tremulous manner; that Emily's
signature, as the other bridesmaid, is
nearly illegible ; that it all went off in
very admirable style ; that the young
ladies generally thought it far less
shocking than they had expected ; and
that although the owner of the black
eyes and the arch smile inform Mr.
Winkle that she was sure she could
never submit to anything so dreadful,
we have the very best reasons for
thinking she was mistaken. To all
this we may add, that Mr. Pickwick
was the first who saluted the bride,
and that in so doing, he threw over
her neck a rich gold watch and chain, j
which no mortal eyes but the jewel
ler's had ever beheld before. Then, j
the old church bell rang as gaily as it
could, and they all returned to break
" Vere does the mince pies go, young
opium eater," said Mr. Weller to the
fat boy, as he assisted in laying out
such articles of consumption as had
not been duly arranged on the previ
ous night.
The fat boy pointed to the destina
tion of the pies.
"Wery good," said Sam, "stick a
bit of Christmas in 'em. T'other dish
opposite. There; now we look com
pact and comfortable, as the father
said ven he cut his little boy's head
off, to cure him o' squinting."
As Mr Weller made the compari
son, he fell back a step or two to give
full effect to it, and surveyed the pre
parations with the utmost satisfaction.
"Wardle," said Mr. Pickwick, al
most as soon as they were all seated,
"a glass of wine, in honor of this
happy occasion!"
"I shall lie delighted, ray boy,"
said Wardle. "Joe—damn that bov,
he's gone to sleep."
"No, I ain't, sir," replied the fat
boy, starting up front a remote corner,
where, like the patron saint of fat
boys—the immortal Horner—he had
been devouring a Christmas pie;
though not with the coolness and de
liberation which characterized that
young gentleman's proceedings.
"Fill Mr. Pickwick's glass."
"Yes, sir."
The fat boy filled Mr. Pickwick's
glass, and then retired behind his
master's chair, from whence he
watched the play of the knives aud
forks, and the progress of the choice
morsels from the dishes to the mouths
of the company, with a kind of dark
antl gloomy jov that was most im
"God bless you, old fellow!" said
Mr. Pickwick.
"Same to you, ray boy," replied
Wardle; and they pledged each other
"Mrs. Wardle," said Mr. Pickwick,
we old folks must have a glass of wine
together, in honor of this joyful event.
The old lady was in a state of great
grandeur just then, for she was sitting
at the top of the table in the brocaded
gown, with her newly-married grand
daughter on one side and Mr Pick
wick on the other, to do the carving.
Mr. Pickwick had not spoken in a
very loud tone, but she understood
him at once, and drank off a full glass
of wine to his long life antl happiness;
after which the worthy old soul
launched forth into a minute and par
ticular account of her own wedding,
with a dissertation on the fashion of
wearing high-heeled shoes, and some
particulars concerning the life and
adventures of the beautiful Lady Tol
limglower, deceased ; at all of which
the old lady herself laughed very
hcartily indeed, and so did the young
ladies too, for they were wondering
among themselves what on earth
grandma was talking about. When
they laughed the old lady laughed ten
times rfiore heartily, and said that
these always had been considered
capital stories; which caused them all
to laugh again, and put the old lady
into the very best of humors. Then,
the cake was cut, and passed through
the ring; the young ladies saved
pieces to put under their pillows to
dream of their future husbands on ;
and a great deal of blushing and mer
riment was thereby occasioned.
"Mr. Miller," said Mr. Pickwick to
his old acquaintance, the hard-headed
gentleman, "a glass of wine ?"
"With great satisfaction, Mr. Pick
wick," replied the hard-headed geutle
man, solemnly.
"You'll take me in?" said the be
nevolent old clergyman.
"And me," interposed his wife.
•'And me, and me," said a couple of
poor relations at the bottom of the
table, who had eaten and drank very
heartily, and laughed at everything.
Mr. Pickwick expressed bis heart
felt delight at every additional sugges
tion ; and his eyes beamed with hilar
ity and cheerfulness.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr.
Pickwick, suddenly rising.
"Here, here! Hear, hear! Here,
here!" cried Mr. Weller, in the ex
citement of bis feelings.
"Call in all the servants," cried old
Wardle, interposing to prevent the
public rebuke which Weller would
otherwise most indubitably have re
ceived from his master. "Give them
a glass of wine each, to drink the toast
in. Now, Pickwick "
Amrdst the ajjeace of the wmp&ny,
the whispering of the women servants,
and the awkward embarrassment of
the men. Mi - . Pickwick proceeded:
"Ladies and gentlemen—no, I won't
say ladies and gentlemen, I'll call yon
my friends, my dear friends, if the
ladies will allow me to take so great
a liberty —"
Here Mr Pickwick was interrupted
by immeuse applause from the ladies,
echoed by the gentlemen, during
which the owner of the eyes was dis
tinctly heard to state that she could
kiss that dear Mr. Pickwick. Where
upon Mr. Winkle gallantly inquired if
it couldn't be done by deputy; to
which the young lady with the black
eyes replied. "Go away"—and accom
panied the request with a look which
said as plainly as a look could do—"if
you can."
"My dear friends," resumed Mr.
Pickwick, "I am going to propose the
health of the bride and bridegroom—
God bless 'em (cheers and tears.) My
young friend. Trundle, I believe to be
a very excellent and manly fellow;
and his wife I know to be a very
amiable and lovely girl, well qualified
to transfer to another sphere of action
the happiness which for twenty years
she has diffused around her in her
father's house. (Here the fat boy
burst forth into stentorian blubber
ings. and was led forth by the coat
collar by Mr. Weller.) I wish." added
Mr. Pickwick, "I wish I was young
enough to be her sister's husband
(cheers,) but, failing that, I am happy
to be old enough to be her father;
for, being so, I shall not be suspected
of any latent designs when I say, that
I admire, esteem, and love them both
(cheers and sobs). The bride's father,
our good friend there, is a noble person,
and I am proud to know him (great
uproar). He is a kind, excellent, inde
pendent-spirited, fine-hearted, hospi
table, liberal man. That his daughter
may enjoy all the happiness, even he
can desire; and that he may derive
from the contemplation of her felicity
all the gratification of heart and peace
of mind which he so well deserves, is,
lam persuaded, our united wish. So,
let us drink their healths, and wish
them prolonged life, and every bless
Mr. Pickwick concluded amidst a
whirlwind of applause; and once
more were the lungs of the supernum
eraries, under Mr. Weller's command,
brought into active and efficient opera
tion. Mr. Wardle proposed Mr. Pick
wick ; Mr. Pickwick proposed the old
lady. Mr. Snodgrass proposed Mr.
Wardle; Mr. Wardle proposed Mr.
Snodgrass. One of the poor relations
proposed Mr. Tupman, and the other
poor relation proposed Mr. Winkle;
all was happiness aud festivity, until
the mysterious disappearance of both
the poor relations beneath the table
warned the party that it was time to
At dinner they met again, after a
five-aud-twenty mile walk, undertaken
bv the males at Wardlc's recommenda
tion, to get rid of the effects of the
wine at breakfast. The poor relations
had kept in bed all day, with the view
of attaining the same happy consumma
tion, but, as they had been unsuccess
ful, they stopped there. Mr. Weller
kept the domestics in a state of per
petual hilarity; and the fat boy di
vided his time into small alternate al
lotments of eating and sleeping.
The dinner was as hearty an affair
as the breakfast, and was quite as
noisy, without the tears. Then catne
the dessert and some more toasts.
Then came the tea and coffee; and
then, the ball.
The best sitting-room at Manor
Farm was a good, long, dark-panelled
room with a high chimney-piece, and
a capacious chimney, up which you
could have driven one of the new pat
ent cabs, wheels and all. At the
upper end of the room, seated in a
shady bower of holly and evergreens,
were the two best fiddlers, and the
only harp, in all Muggleton. In all
sorts of recesses, and on all kinds of
brackets, stood massive old silver
candlesticks with four branches each.
The carpet was up, the candles burnt
bright, the fire blazed and crackled on
the hearth, and merry voices and light
hearted laughter rang through the
room. If any of the old English yeo
men had turned into fairies when they
died, it was just the place in which
they would have held their revels.
If anything could have added to
the interest of this agreeable scene, it
would have been the remarkable fact
of Mr Pickwick's appearing without
his gaiters, for the first time within
the memory of his oldest friends.
"You mean to dance?" said Wardle.
"Of course I replied Mr. Pick
wick. "Don't you see lam dressed
for the purpose ?'" Mr. Pickwick called
attention to his speckled silk stockings
and smartly tied pumps.
"You in silk stockings !" exclaimed
Mr. Tupman, jocosely.
"And why not, sir—why not?"
said Mr. Pickwick, turning warmly
upon him.
"Oh, of course there is no reason
why you shouldn't wear them," re
sponded Mr. Tupman.
"I imagine not, sir, I imagine not,"
said Mr. Pickwick, in a very peremp
tory tone.
Mr. Tupman had contemplated a
laugh, but he found it was a serious
matter; so he looked grave, and said
they were a pretty pattern.
"I hope they arc," said Mr. Pick
wick, fixing his eves upon his friend.
"You see nothing extraordinary in the
stockings, as stockings, I trust, sir?"
"Certainly not. Oh certainly not,"
replied Mr. Tupman. He walked away;
and Mr. Pickwick's countenance re
sumed its customary benign expression.
"We are all ready, I believe," said
Mr. Pickwick, who was stationed with
the old lady at the top of the dance,
and had already made four false starts,
iu his excessive anxietv to commence.
"Then begin at once." said Wardle.
Up struck the two fiddles and the
harp, and off went Mr. Pickwick into
bands across, when there was a gun-
eral clapping of bands, aad a Cry of
"Stop, stop!"
"Wb&t'e tbe matter?" said Mr.
Pickwick, who was only brought to
[ by tbe eddies and harp deaiatiiny. and
One square, one insertion, $1 ; each eubee
•jnetif ineertiun, 00 ••euls. Yearly adverti&eeienta
ticevdiug one-fourth of a column, ti per inch.
I Kij'iire wurk double tLetw iu«; additional
rbargee where weekly or moutlily change* are
made. Local adverUaemenra 10 cent a per line
for fir*t insertion, and 5 cents per Hue for each
additional insertion. Matriagcs and deatba pub
lished free ut charge. Obituary notices charged
a« advertisement*. and payable when handed in
laditorV Notiee*. $4 ; fcxecntors' and Admin:-
rrators' Notice". *3 each; R«trav. Oatrlion au<*
I Mseolntifiii Sot ice*, not exceeding ten line*,
From the fact that the Ornzt* is the oldef
established and most extensively circulated Ka
rnblican neutipaj er in Butler ooonty. Repti)
lican ronmy) it must be apparent* fo hr.Mii*!—
men that it is the mediiun they ahould n-e in
advertising their i>n*ine.-i».
NO. 6.
could hsve been Mopped by no earthly
power, if the house had been on fire.
"Where's Arabella Allen?" cried a
i dozen voices
"And Winkle ?" added Mr. Tup
"Here we are !" exclaimed fl at gen
tleman. emerging with his pretty com
panion from the corner ; as he did so,
it would have been hard to tell which
was the redder in the face, he or the
young lady with the black eyes.
"What an extraordinary thing it is,
Winkle," said Mr. Pickwick, rather
pettishly, "that you couldn't have
taken your pi ace In-fore."
"Not at all extraordinary," said Mr.
"Well," said Mr. Pickwick, with a
very expressive smile, as his eyes
rested on Arabella, "well, I don't know
that it tca.-t extraordinary, either, after
However, there was no time to think
more about the matter, for the fiddles
and harp began in real earnest. Away
went Mr. Pickwick—hands across—
down the middle to the very end of the
room, and half-way up the chimney,
back again to the door—poussette
every where—loud stamp on the
ground—ready for the next couple—off
again —all the figure over once more—
another stamp to beat out the time—
next couple, and the next again—never
was such going! At last, after they
had reached the bottom of the dance,
and full fourteen couple after the old
lady had retired in an exhausted state,
and the clergyman's wife had been sub
stituted in her stead, did that gentle
man where there was no demand what
ever on his exertions, keep perpetually
dancing in his place, to keep time to
the music; smiling on his partner all
the while with a blandness of de
meanor which baffles all description.
Long before Mr. Pickwick was wearv
of dancing, the newly-married couple
had retired from the scene. There was
a glorious supper down stairs, notwith
standing, and a good long sitting after
it; and when Mr. Pickwick awoke,
late the next morning, he had a con
fused recollection of having, severally
and confidentially, invited somewhere
about five-and-forty people to dine with
him at the George and Vulture, the
very first time they came to London;
which Mr. Pickwick rightly considered
a pretty certain indication of his hav
ing taken something besides exercise
on the previous night.
"And so your family has gam.es in
the kitchen to-night, my dear, has
they ?" inquired Sam of Emtua.
"Yes, Mr. Weller," replied Emma ;
"we always have on Christmas eve.
Master wouldn't neglect to keep it up
on any account."
"Your master's a werry pretty no
tion of keepin' anythin' up, my dear,"
said Mr. Weller; "I never see such a
sensible sort of a man as he is, or such
a reg'lar gen'l'm'n.
"Oh, that he is!" said the fat boy,
joining in the conversation ; "don't he
breed n<ce pork ?"' The fat boy gave
a semi-cannibalic leer at Mr. Weller,
as lie thought of the roast legs and
"Oh, you've woke up. at last, have
you ?" said Sam.
The fat boy nodded.
"I'll toll you what it is, young boa
constructer," said Mr. Weller, impress
ively ; "if you don't sleep a little less,
and exercise a little more, wen you
comes to be a man you'll lay yourself
open to the same sort of personal in
conwcnience as was inflicted on the old
gen'l'm'n as wore the pigtail."
"What did they do to him?" in
quired the fat boy in a faltering voice.
"I'm a-goin'to tell you," replied Mr.
Weller; "he was one of the largest
patterns as was ever turned out—reg'-
lar fat man, as hadn't caught a glimpse
of his own shoes for five-and-forty
"Lor'!" Emma.
"No, that he hadn't, my dear," said
Mr. Weller; "and if you'd put an ex
act model of his legs on the dinin'
table afore hint, he wouldn't ha' known
'em. Well, he always walks to his
office with a wery handsome gold
watch chain hanging out, about a foot
and a quarter, and a gold watch in his
fob pocket as was worth—l'm afraid
to say how much, but as much as a
watch can be—a large, heavy, round
manafacter, as stout for a watch as he
was for a man, and with a big face in
proportion. 'You'd better not carry
that 'ere watch,' says the old gen'lm'n's
friends; 'you'l be robljed on it,' says
they. 'Shall I?' savs he. 'Yes you
will,' says the}'. 'Yell,' says he, '1
should like to see the thief as could
get this here watch out, for I'm blest
if 1 ever can, it's such a tight fit,' says
he; 'and venever I wants to know
what's o'clock, I'm obliged to stare
into the bakers' shops,' he says. Wei,
then he laughs as hearty as if he was
a-goin to pieces, and out he walks
agin' with his powdered head and pig
tail, and rolls down the Strand with
the chain hangin' out furder than ever,
and the great rouod watch almost
bustin' through his grey kersey smalls.
There warn't a pickpocket iu all Lon
don as didn't take a pull at that chain,
but the chain 'ud never come out, so
they soon got tired o'dragging such a
heavy old gen'm'l'n along the pave
ment, and he'd go home ami laugh till
the pigtail wibrated like the penderlum
of a Dutch clock. At last, one day
the old gen'l'm'n was a rollin along,
and he sees a pickpocket as he know'd
by sight a-comin' up, arm and arm with
a little boy with a wery large head.
■Here's a game," said the old gen'l'm'n
to himself; 'they're a-goin' to have
another try, but it won't do!' So he
begins a-chucklin' wery hearty, ven,
all of a sudden, the little boy leaves
hold of the pickpocket's arm, and
rushes head-foremost straight into the
old gen'l'm'n's stomach, and for a
moment doubles him right up vith the
pain, 'Murder!' says the old gen'lm'n.
'All right, sir,' says the pickpocket,
a-whisperin' in his ear. And when he
come straight agin, the watch and
chain was gone, and what's worse than
that, the old gcnTm'o'a digestion was
*ll wrong ever artervarda, to the verv
last day of bie life ; so jugt T*OU look
j about you, youug feller, and take care
! you don't get too fat."
As Mr. Weller concluded thi9 moral
[Vr>'yt*.VDSl> rty foVBTR rA6*.J

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