Newspaper Page Text
m
'
: ' .
* v {".«■>
■ ’ 'a - * : i
u Tlie ferment of a free, is preferalile to
the torpor of a despotic, Government.”
j* • : \.,f l .
’ S>\ . (ft 161 ■ i
' ■ . : ' ' ' •«
VOL. II.
ATHENS, GEORGIA,
SEPTEMBER 14, 1833.
j i - -■ ' ~
NO. 26.
FRIENDSHIP-
When anxious cures disturb the mind,
When all our thoughts r.rc cU(l in wo,
When the nick lio.trt no joy can find.
And every hope is left below ;
’Tis then a friend will kindly calm
E.ich wo that neks the tortur’d breast
Soothe it with consolation's halm,
And lull the fjentlc soul to rest.
Partaking of tho load of grief
That hangs corrosive o’er the mind,
His soothing converse yields relit f,
And cures tho breast to grief resign'd.
“ The devil has
grieved at this catastrophe.
•ot Peter now,” said one.
“He has taken French leave,” said an-
other.
“ French leave!” exclaimed Monsieur
Skippctte, “ Diable ! dat is no French leave—
dat is no leave at all, but leave his head be
gar !
In life no i>urcr, sweeter joy,
Than Friendship’s healing balm we find,
’Tis pleasure that will never cloy
The noble, sympathetic mind.
THE HUNTER’S BRIDE.
J will go to the land where the li. ntrrs dwell
And h old me .a hut in a sylvan doll,
And my homo shall be ly that tranquil lake
Which, none, hut the hunters paddles break;
Where the Indian boy, io his dark c.inoc.
Like a dolphin, cleaves tho waters blue,
And beneath the moon of a summer’s sky
Basks in tho light of his loved one's eye ;
For I long to roam by the mountain side
To hunt the deer as a hunters bride.
Though course and rude is the mountain fare,
Yet, pure is the breath of the mountain air :
And rugged the path of tho hunter’s way,
Yet sweet are his dreams at the close of day,
Though toil and trouble his course pursue,
Health tinges his check with a dusky line,
And in tleotuess, he rivals the wild gazelle,
And his heart, in the forest, run tore so inrll
That I long to roam on the mountain sido
And wear the garb of a hunter’s bride.
M >• joy shall lie, by the silent shorn,
To watch the return of his silent oar,
And view on the breast of that limped lake
The eddies, around it. in murmurs break
And ripple, and sparkle, and curl away
I . the soothing beam oi the silver ray.
And his heart shall gladden to hoar my seng
Swell on the air, as ho paddles ..long ;
And 1 nee’r will dep ot from that mountain’s side
But snare the fate of a hunter’s bride.
3&1 t.oifUPin
/•'r un ths Constellation.
THE DUTCH SIvATER AND III? HEAD.
’Plte Dutch, as every body knows, have
had the name for centuries ot being remarka
ble skaters ; but every body, perh ;ps v has
not beard the following story. It was related
to us bv a friend of ours, who has a multitude
of stories of all sorts and sizes, suited to eve
ry taste and calculated for every calibre ;
and he assured us upon bis word of honor,
(for he never swears, J that this is equal ia
truth to any of the rest.
Many years since, on a bitter cold day in the
early part of January, Peter Van Slider, a
Dutchman, Louis Jean Jaqucs Skippette, a
Frenchman, Jonathan Going, a \ar.kee, and
some others, were amusing themselves ska
ting on the North River, near Alb, ny. they
wore nil famous at the snort. I be I' ranch
man was remarkable for cutting capers on the
ice ; for leaping up, turning summersets, ska
ting on one foot and the like, lhe Yuukoo
was no less skilled in his own way. He was
particularly cute in cutting the letters of flic
alphabet, the figures in arithmetic, and vari
ous mathematical and mechanical diagrams,
nil of which he executed with particular neat
ness and accuracy. Others of the party al
so excelled in diderent ways; hut for down
right plain skating, and strong and forcible go-
ing ahead, none equalled the Dutchman.——
He was by no means a swill footed fellow on
land ; but, on the contrary, like most of his
countrymen, was considered (to use a com
mon expression) rather slow-moulded. But
this native vis incrlia, when once overcome,
instead of retarding, very much facilitated ius I must dre.kt.
progress, and scut him forward, as the Yan-1
kec said, * as though the devil bad kicked him
an end.’
The river had been but a short time clos
ed, the ice was still rather thin, arid hero and
there lurked a treacherous hole, the precise
situation of which could not very well be fore
seen. The skating party, however, for some
time, had the good luck to escape these pla.
ces. But when did ever human beings, deep,
lv engaged in sport and emulous of excelluig
each other, listen to the dictates of prudence 1
The skaters in spite of the severity of the
weather, had got warm with the exercise;
and now, throwing cave, cold fingers, and
frosty feet to the dogs, gave themselves up
to uncontrolled pleasure and delight. Peter
Van Slider, who was ahead of all his com
panions, in the heat of his triumph had cast
off three of his seven pair of breeches ; and
now looking back with his pipe in his mouth,
exclaimed, as he dashed o,iward—
«* Come on ! come on, po\s! wat makes
you lack behint so, you lazy tocks—you pc’s
no skaters at all. By heffens! you can’t
come mit iu a mile o’ me."
These words were scarcely out of his
mouth, when down he went into one of those
hidden and treacherous holes. He sank at
once up to his neck ; which coming in con.
tact with the sharp edge of the ice, and his
momentum being very great, off weut his
head, as smooth as though it had been whip
ped off by a Turkish scimetar; or to use the
express language of Jonathan Going, ‘ as slick
as "a whistle.’
All were of course astonished, as well as
And sure enough he had left his head as the
Frenchman intimated—for, while the body
went under the ice, the head ram lined above.
But it did not remain stationary; for it kept
on gliding over the ice at the same rapid rate
that the whole body had gone previous to the
sep -.ration. Nor did it cease to look back
and smile in triumph and call out, as before
“ Come on ! come on, poys ! wot de tyfel
you lucks so pnliint for, ha!”
By gaul!” replied Jonathan Going, as lie
ceased cutting figures, “ if that don’t beat iny
amt Eunice, then I’m mistaken. She stop
ped talking, us soon as she had cut oft'her
head with a case knife ; but tms fellow will
never stop—he keeps talking the same as
though his head was on.”
“ Sucre! diable !” exclaimed the French
man, his eyes sticking out of his head like
those of a lousier—“he vill no stop de head—
he run—he laugh—he talk—he smoke—he
shullenge us—lie do every ting vidout de bo-
dy—be gar! he travel on vidout de leg, de
foot—lie uo vaut him at all—diable! dam !”
This is too bad,” said the Yankee, “ to be
out done by a Dutchman’s head, I’ll bchang-
cd if ’taint—and then to be laughed at iu the
bargain.”
“ Mon Dicu !” said the Frenchman, who
felt that his honor was concerned not to be
beaten by a Dutchman’shead,“I come up vid
him if 1 die lor him ; be gar! I no be done
out by no head de Duslunan, begar! Louis
Jean Jaqucs Skippette be von iioinmc vat uo
head heat, begar vidout de foot, begar!”
As he said this, Louis Jean Jaqucs Skip
pette ceased cutting capers and strained eve
ry nerve to come up with the Dutchman's
head.
“ Consarn it!” said the Yankee, 44 how that
tarnal head does pool foot! But I’ll catch it,
by gingo, if I have to run a mile for it.”
As tiie Yankee ended his speech, he also
exerted himself to the very top of his speed.
The rest of the party did the same, thinking,
like the Frenchman and the Yankee, that it
would he a great shame if they could not keep
up with a man’s head, when deprived of the
body.
But their exertions wore useless. The
Dutchman’s head still gained upon tlieui,
when—coining to another hole—up came tiie
body, and the head united with it, apparently
as sound as before. - f
“ Doaner!” exclaimed the Dutchman as
soon as the two’ parts came together, “ I
thought i had lost mine hcadt!”
“ And I thought you had lost your body,
said the Yankee—‘ but stop—dontbe in such
a tarnal hurry, or you’ll like as not get into
another hole.”
“ Do tyfel!
short and blowing a long stream of smoke
from his mouth, “ i’fe hail such a chase un.
dcr the ice to keep up mit mine headt, dat I’ll
not try ii uhnin. Py kracious ! I tought de
letelisii iicadt would outskute me !”
“Begar!” said the Frenchman, « he did
skate out me and Monsieur Going, and all—
be gar! ve could no come vid him up, be
gar!”
“ Well don, shentlemeas,” said Peter, “you
own dat l peat you, ha 1”
“ Oui,” said the Frenchman with a shrug
of the shoulder.
“ Why, darn it, yes,” said Jonathan, with
rather a mortified phiz—“and I would’nt a
minded it if you’d Jone it by fair skating.”
“ Fair Skating! Donuer! if so pe you had
konc under de ice, as I lid, wit your headt in
one place and your pody in anodder, you
would’nt tink it so ferry easy peatia, I can
shwear to you. So, schentlemeus, 1 tink you
This was very easily explained from the fact
that the head happened to be looking partly
round at tho very moment the body cutnd up.
As for the Dutchman, he merely ejaculated
“ Donner!” once or twice, as he experienced
the inconvenience of conveying the drink to
his mouth in its new position; while the rest
of the parly iuformed the landlord of the
sir ingc accident which had happened.. Mine
host iifted up liis hands and eyes in utter as-
to ishment, and exclaimed “ The Lord have
mercy on me! I never heard the like be
fore.” But there were two or three other
persons present, who professed not to believe
a word of the story.
The Yankee, tiie Frenchman and each
one of the skating party, asseverated the truth
of what had been told ; aud were even, as
they declared, ready to lake their Bible oath
of it. The incredulous gentlemen, never
theless, persevered in their disbelief, and a
good deal of fierce dispute, pro and con, was
the result.
“ De tyfel!” exclaimed the Dutchman, “if
so pe you no pelieves dat, den you no pelieves
nottin. I)is drue—dis every word drue.”
“ Oui,” says the Frenchman, “ ’tis trute
begar, ’tis lrule—diable! dam! he is von
grand lie, von f .lse—vat you call de hood-
von grand r tscaJle, vat dispute it.”
As tiie liquor circulated freely, the dispute
increased in warmth ; and Monsieur Skipette,
taking snuff violently, every now and then
offered some to the Dutchman. The latter
having his pipe iu his mouth, and being unu
sed to the ‘ titllutiog dust,’for some time decli
ned the offer. But at last incautiously ta
king a pinch, it caused such an irritation of
his olfactories that he was fain to discharge
them : whereupon, grasping his nose between
his thumb and finger, blowing strenuously,
and giving his h ind a ftirt, lie threw his head
behind the b .ck-lng.
“ Dere !” said the Dutchman, triumphant
ly, “ do you pelieve it now ?”
The incredulous gentlemen were obliged
to knock under ; and to acknoivedge their en
tire belief in all they hail heard.
It now only remains to say, the reason the
Dutchman's head did not come off sooner,
was, that it was kept on by the frost; and
that the reason why it at last came off so ea.
sily, was. that the frost, oa coming to the lire
was dissolved ; and nothing could be better
calculated for bringing about the final sepu
ration of the head and tiie body, than the
strenuous blowing of the nose.
mine too7” said the other. “Really, Sir,
we must get you to sit up a little,” said both.
“ Aye—I thought I felt something give way,”
grunted the mountain of mummy; and then,
nstead of sitting up, as they had requested,
he leaned slowly from side to side, so as to
almost smother each lady in hei turn, whilst
the other was dragging her torn gown from
beneath bis abominable brawn. However
all that being arranged, and room having been'
made ior lus legs, as he called them, on we
went, but we had not gone more than a mile,
when he grunted—“ Can’t stand this !”—
“ Stand what Sir ?—you seem to me to be sit
ting !” said some body. “Can’t ride back-
erd—never could,” grunted tallow-keech in
reply. Now it so happened that directly op.
posite .to him sat a fat bouncing dame—fat,
fair, aud titty, tightly done up in blue braided
broadcloth, overhung with a gilt Belcher chain,
almost big enough for a chain cable, and she
uo sooner heard his complaint of not being
able to stand riding backward, than she of
fered to change places with him—whether
The following amusing narrative, which
we copy from an English Periodical, affords
appropriate reading for dog days.
THE MAN WITH AN APPETITE
I never, for the life o’me, could understand
why a mail of ten stone should pay as much
for coach hire as one of twenty. There’
neither reason nor virtue in it; and the stage
couch proprietors must be a set of unjust jol
terhoads not to alter it. The rogues weigh
your dead stock—your luggage, and if it
said the Dutchman, stopping j what they call “ over weight,” they make uo
slerrup, slerrup, chamble, chambi’e, chain ;
gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp •” aud thus e nded the
second course.
Third course:—Shall I send yon the wing
of this goose, Sir ? “ Yes; I’ll take the wing
of a goose,”—and he did. Allow me to send
you a slice or two of the breast, Sir ? “ Yes;
I’ll take some of the breast—and he did,
Some boiled fowl and oysters, Sir?—Yen;
I’ll take'some boiled fowl and oysters;—
slerrup, slerrup, champ, champ, champ—sto,p
waiter!—where are you going with that duck ?
I shall take some duck”—and - having fin
ished his boiled fowl and oysters, he helped
himself to the breast and leg of the duck.
By this time his eyes stood out like a lobster’s;
the perspiration stood in large drops upon his
bald front.—But still he went on, champ,
champ, champ, and fearing tbfe pastry would
be cleared away before he had finished his
duck, he contrived to eat the solid slices from
the breast on one side of his mouth, whilst he
gnaw’d the meat from the leg with the other;
the drumstick poking out from the corner of
his mouth, till it dropped completely picked
from sympathy with his fat, or respect to I upon his. plate. Then, gulping down the re-
her own blue broadcloth, did not appear, muiuder of his ale, he tossed a glass of bran-
But iiow this exchange of places was to be dy after it; and asked for damson tart; swal-
brought about, was the tiling: to the lookers lowed it in a twinkling; a little custard pud-
on ;t seemed to be almost as easy as turning ding? Yes.—Cheese? yes-and finally abottle
a couple ot bullocks in a watch-box ; but as of sherry!—Is it not monstrous, that a fel-
the necessity for it was growing more and low like this—who will cram himself with
more urgent every moment the attempt was more food than would serve a dozen moder-
mafie. In the first instancq they each es- ate men, should obtrude his abominable paunch
sayedto rise like ordinary people; but that upon decent people, and get his overweight
would not do; before the ‘ male’ was half up, | carried about from town to town for nothing,
down lie went again—squash!—and they
repeated the attempt a second time with no j Tiie Mud Pedlar.—Some years ago, a
better success. “ I’ll tell you what, nia’m,” cute fellow in Connecticut, had a few pounds
grunted tallow-keech, “you’d better catch of honey to sell, on which he was desirous of
xold of my hands.” The lady complied; making a large sum of money. But how to
having hooked their fat fingers together, in do it, that was the question. lie revolved
the way the boys call * butchers’ hold, they the matter in his mind for some days, and at
succeeded• in »bousing’each other up, fairly last hit upon the following expedient. He
out of their respective scats; but in the at- took a nuipber of tubs, of the kind used for
tempt to turn, they miss’d stays, as it were, packing butter, which are smallest at the up-
and swuug round, horizontally, across the per end. These he filled nearly full of mud,
laps of the rest of us. Here was a pretty from a neighboring ditch ; leaving, however,
Tho company now acknowledged that the
Dutcnman’s demand was but fair, considering
all the circumstances of the case; and they
agreed, item con. to adjourn to a tavern, where
they might thaw their feet and fingers, and
have something to drink.
But how came the head and body to meet
so exactly at the second hole ? said we to
our friend, os he came to this part of his'
story.
Why, that, he relied, is explained on the
principles of natural philosophy. The veloci-
tv of the two parts being the same previous
to separation, naturally continued the same
afterwards by the impulse already received,
and therefore necessarily arrived at the sec.
ond hole precisely at the same time.
But what held the head aud body together
after this reunion ? said we.
You shall hear presently, said the story-tel-
r. Well, in a short time the party arrived
at the tavern, aud liquors were called for.—
Some preferred one thing and some another.
As for Peter, he chose a strong brandy sling,
as being best calculated to prevent his taking
cold.
“ Here is your sling, Peter,” said the land
lord—« but wliat'sthe matter with your head?
It’s turned sidewuys!”
“ Siteways 1”, exclaimed the Dutchman
who till that moment was not aware that his
uoae was not as usual, straight before him.-
Neither bad his companions noticed the cir
cumstance. They were no sooner, however,
reminded of it by the landlord, than they all
saw very plainly that Peter’s head was in
defcd turned very nearly ninety degrees.—
scruple of charging you so much a pound
above a cert fin number of pounds, but they
take no account at all of overweight in liv
ing luggage, and will charge just as much for
carrying n little whipper snapper of a pas.
senger whose entire corpus, in full dress,
might be tucked into a coach pocket, as they
will for a great over-fed fellow, whose cm-v
tv waistcoat would button round a haystack!
If a man will stuff himself till he’s as big es
a rousted Manningtree ox with a pudding in
his belly, let him do so—there is no statute to
the contrary thereof, that I know of; but I
see no reason why he should obtrude his fat
upon folks of reasonable compass—or expect
to have his over weight of blubber carried
about the country for nothing. Twelve stone
is about the average weight of a man; and if
the couch owners were not blockheads and
boobies—blind to their own interests, and to
common equity, they would establish a scales
ol fares, hang weighing chairs in their coach
offices, and demand so much additional fare
upon every stone weight above twelve; redu
cing the fares to those of less weight in pro-
portion. If they would do that, a man,
wedged into a six inside coach between two
of those enormous bowel-cases, might take
some little comfort to himself in knowin,
that what he suffers by suffocation he saves
in poeket. And, truly, your political econo-
mists—your Mafchuses and M’Cullochs are
little better thaii strainers at gnats and swal
lowers of camels, or they would have propo
sed some sucli regulation as a check upon
overconsumption; it would do mote toward
saving the nafional victual than any of their
fine drawu schemed for stinting day labour-
ers in* brats and potatoes.
It was our fate to have one of these two-
legged prize cattle—“a certain Franklin in
the wilds ol Iveut,” as a travelling sixth in the
Dover coach. We took him up or ra
iher he was heaved up, by. the coachman and
half-a-dozen helpers, at a roadside public
house, somewhere between Sandwich and
Deal; and when ho was up, and had poked
forward, half way across the inside of the
coach, his hips stuck in the door-way, so
that he was obliged to turn aside, before he
could bring in his rear. At length he was
all in; and down he went squash! into the
only vacant seat, between two venerable spin-
ster-like ladies—his bowed elbows spreading
over them in front like a couple of Brobdig.
nagian sausages, and his stupendous catas
trophe tearing all before it as it subsided—
“Mercy onus!”cried one ofthespiuster-like
venerables—“ I declare you have tom my
predicament!—In a moment we were all mix- space enough for a thin covering of honey,
cd up together like so many maggots ia a With these he embarked for New York,
grease pot, all trying to get the upper hand where he exposed his goods in the market
of each other: the bouucing dame squal- He asked nobody to purchase; but took care,
ling, the fat fellow grunting; and all of us both by his dress and behaviour, to appear ve-
sprunting with might and main, to keep our ry much like a fool,
huads above brawn. Luckily, the two fat * What have you got in those tubs ?’ said a
ones had “ a kind of alacrity i i sinking,”— man to him
their ability to spruut being diminished in ex- 4 Why, nothing but mud,’ said the Yankee,
act ratio to their superabundant blubber, so rolling up his eyes and lolling out his tongue
that we soon got them pretty well under; but, like an idiot,
nevertheless, there is no knowing what the 4 Mud !* said the man, 4 what do you do
upshot might have been, had not a lean and with mud here. You’ve come to the wrong
long neck’d linen dealer in the corner poked market with it, fellow. We have mud enough
his head out at the window, and implored the of our own in this city.’
coachman to stop—* 4 Coachman,” cried he— 4 Yes, but it aint sich as we have in Con-
— 44 coachman for Heaven’s sake stop the I necticut though,’ said the pretended fool—“ I
coach!” Why it was to be stopped for fetched this all the way from Connecticut.—
Heaven’s sake, I could not make out—Unless Jest look at it, and see how nice ’tis,*
from a notion that a fat body must needs have 4 Pox take your mud!’ said the man, I don’t
a fat soul, and fear that Heaven might be ns [ want to sec it.’ And he went his way.
much burdened with blubber as wo were— 4 Whv, the fellow’s a fool,’ said a bystan-
for, indeed by this time, the fat fellow did be- der, to fetch mud here..’
gin to manifest very purely physiognomical 4 Not’s you know on,’ said the Yankee, put-
symptoms of apoplcctiealiy ejecting the im- ting on a more stolid appearance than ever,
mortal tenant of his mortal brawn. Howev- 4 I’m the cutest feller, every body allows, in
er, the coach did stop, and that right speed, all our town—haw! haw! haw!—you’ll have
ly—for the cry was urgent, and both doors to git up airly to cheat me, that you will
being sji wide open, we—the four lean ones, j haw! haw! haw !’
is soon as we could disentangle ourselves, 4 What’s your name ?’ said another,
got out upon the road, shoctop deep in mud, 4 My name ! what’s that to you whether
and the rain rainiug as though it thought the I’ve got any name or no. I won’t tell you no
sooner we were cooled the better; whilst thing about it—I wont, I fags. My name is
the two fat ones, assisted by the coachman Tommy Doodle, and my father, his name is
and others, were getting themselves set up- Tommy Doodle, and my uncle’s name is
right on their own propria persona scats: Joshua Doodle. Do you know my uncle
and this matter achieved, we all got in again. Josh ? ha!*
Now you would think, perhaps, that after 4 Your uncle Josh ? no—diow should I know
sucli a squabush, the fat man’s appetite would | him ?’
be sadly damaged—and I thought so too; but
I was mistaken; for in less than an hour after
I sat down to dinner with him at one of the
inns in Dover, and I’ll just tell you the man
ner of his feeding. • *
It was a sort of four shilling ordinary-
plenty of food there was: and some twenty
or thirty feeders—each with a four ounce
lump of bread by the side of his plate.
44 You’ll take same soup, Sir!”—said some
body to the fat Franklin. 44 Yes, I’ll take
soup,” said he; and did three plates full, to I Tant none o’you common mud
which he added the aforesaid four ounce lump necticut—look here.’
of bread. You’ll take salmon, Sir? “ I’ll 4 Mud do you call this!’ said a marketman
take salmon; and some bread, waiter.” The I 4 Rale Connecticut mud,’ said the Yankee,
plate of bread was handed him, and having with a foolish grin,
paw’d on three ot four ounce lumps, he in- 4 Why this is honey,’ said another,
gulphed two of ’em with the salmon. Shall 4 Say nothing about it,’ said the maeket-
I send a fried sole, Sir? 44 Yes, I’ll take fried I man, aside—and I’ll get a bargain out of the
soles,—and some fresh ale, waiter 1 .”' A fellow.* Then speaking to the apparent
quart jug of ale Was set beside him*; and hav- fool, he asked him what he would take for
iug ingulphed a great goblet of it, he sent down I his mud ? '
a half pound sole, and the fourth lump of ‘Why, I don’t know,’said the fellow, lol-
bread after the salmon. Here’s a fine brill,' v "’° »'*■»*"“* nnf l lookin'? with a vacant
Sir; will you allow me to send you some ?
44 Yes—I’ll take some brill,—and some bread,
waiter.” The plate of bread was again ban-
ded to him, and having paw’d of four lumps,
down went one of them with the brill and
another goblet of ale cleared his gullet for
the second course.
Second course:—Roast beef, roost pig,
calfs head and boiled teg of mutton. Beef,
Sir! 44 Yes; I’ll take some beef; Champ,
champ, champ, chamble, chamble, champ
uncovering them— 4 they’re all chock full o’
mud.’
4 What’ll you take for the whole lumpT
4 Five hundred doltars—haw * haw ! haw !*
4 Oh, nonsense !’ said the marketman, dip--
ping his finger in the honey, tastibg from’
each of the tub9, and smacking his lips, in
anticipation of the bargain ‘he was going to
make. Believing the whole to be pure hon
ey, and that he had a fool to deal-with, he at
first offered twenty dollars for the lot.’
'Four hundred,’ said the owner, 4 give me
four hundred dollars and the mud is all your’n,
tubs and all by hokey.’ t
* No—I’ll give you fifty,’ said the dealer in
marketables.
4 Three hundred,’ said the Yankee, 4 and
it’s all your’n tub’9 and all, by gings.’
4 1 won’t give you a cent over seventy five.*
4 Haw! haw! haw ! then you may have it
for two hundred.’ • '
‘ I don’t care if I give one for old acquain-
tance sake.’
4 Haw ! haw! haw! well take it then see- ’
in it’s you.’
Tho money was presently paid over, and
each party was well pleased with the bargain
—the New Yorker, that ho had cheated the
foolish Yankee—and the cute Yankee that
he had overreached the New Yorker. But
if such was mutual satisfaction, it did not con
tinue long. For the marketman soon discov
ered the cheat.
He Swore, and raved, and tore, like a mad
man. But this not mending the matter, he
went in pursuit of the Yankee, whom he at
length found sitting snng by his own fireside.
4 What the devil did you mean,’ said he
by cheating me so in that honey ?’
Honey?’said the Yankee, who by thfe
time had thrown off his stolid appearance—
I sold you no honey.’
‘The devil you didn’t! said the New Yor
ker— 4 what did I pay you a hundred dollars
for?’
4 Mud, nothing but mud,’returned the Yan
kee— 4 and it’s yOur own. fault that you would-
at take my word for it—I told you’ twas no
thing but mud.’
1 Dont you know my uncle Josh!’
‘No.’
4 Then you’re a greater fool than I_Why,
I know him jest as well as I know the way to
our barn.*
What have you got in your tubs ?’ asked
another one. v
4 Mud—haw! haw ! haw !—noting but
mud. Shall I show it to you.” *
> No, I don’t want to see any of your mud
• Well you needn’t speak so cross about it.
-it’s rale Con
RARE SPORT.
The Barber of Dunsc, from a Scottish
Journal.—A gentleman possessing an uncom
mon share of wit and humor, had occasion to
lodge for tho night in company with some
friends, at the inn of a town, which for cer- ~
tain reasons, we shall denonminate Dunsc.
Requiring the services of a barber, he was *'
recommended to Walter Dron—who was
reprsented as not skilled in that profession;
but excellent at cracking a joke, or telling a
story. This functionary being forthwith in
troduced ; made such a display of his oral
and manual dexterity, as to leave on the
mind, as well as the body of the customer,
a very favorable impression, and induced the
latter to sit down to a friendly glass. The
circulation of the bottle served to show off the
barber in his happiest mood, and the facetious
gentleman amid the general hilarity, thus ad
dressed him: 44 Now, Wattie, I engage to give
you a guinea, on the following terms : that
you leap backwards and forwards over your
chair for half an hour—leisurely yet regular
ly crying out at every leap, here goes 1, Wattie
Dron, barbertof Dunsc; but should you ut
ter anything else during the time you for
feit the reward.” Wattie, though no doubt
surprised at the absurdity of the proposal, yet
considering how easily he could earn the
guinea and the improbability that such an op.
poriunity would ever again present itself,
agreed. -to the stipulations. The . watch
was set, and the barber, having stripped off
his coat, leaning with one hand on tiie back
of the -Chair, commenced leaping over the
seat uniformly repeating in an exaulting
tone, the words prescribed. ; lifter matters
had gone bn thus smoothly for about five
minutes, the gentleman rung the bell and thus
accosted the waiters: ‘What is the.reason,
sir, you insult me by sending a mad fellow
like that instead of a proper barber, as you
pretend he was ?” Barber, [leaping] “ Hera'
goes I, Wattie Dron,barber of Dun.*.” Wai
ter—.“Oh, 8ir,I don’t know what is the matter;
I never saw him in this way in my life;
Mr. Dron, Mr. Dron, what do you mean.”
Barber—“Here goes * I, Watte—” Waiter
— 44 Bless me, Mr. Dron, recollect these are
gentlemen : how can you make such a fool
of yourself? Barber—“Here goes Id
ling out his tongue, and looking with a vacant
stare about him.
4 Don’t Imow !* what do you come here
for then ?’
«Why I come to ’stonish the Yorkers,
that’s all—haw ! haw! haw!’
< You do astonish them sure enough. But
what’ll you take for your mud ?’
«I don’t know—Til take a shilling a pound,
m av be.’
♦ A Shilling a pound for mud ! why, that’s a
pretty price. We cain get it here in the city
and gulp—gulp—gulpand there was an I for nothing and get paid for carrying it away
end of the beef, and a third goblet of ale. | intojhe bargain.’
Some calFs head, Sir? “ Yes; I’ll take calFs
head,—slerrup, slerrup, chamble, champ, sler
rup; gulp, gulp, gulp.’* - A little more calfs
head, Sir? “Yes, I’ll take a little more call’s
head;—ftlerrup, slerrup—bread, waiter,—
Landlord (entering in haste,) « What in the
devil sir, is all this? The fellow is mad.
How dare you insult gentlemen in my house
by such conduct 1 Barber—“ Here goes I
Watte Dron,”-!—LandlordI say* Rob
run for his wife, for this can’t he put up with:
Gentlemen, the man is evidently deranged,
you will not let my house be injured iri any
way by this business?” Barber, “Here goes”—
(wife pushing in)—“Oh Watte, Watte, what’s
this that’s come owter ye ? Do vpu no ken
your fair wife ?” Barber—Here goes I——-’
Wife, (weeping)—Oh, Wattie, Wattie, if
vc care na for me mind your bairns ot ’hamc
and come away with roe.” Barber-^ 44 Here
goes I Wat -’’ The afflicted- wife now
clasped, her husband round the neck, and
hung on him <so as effectually to arrest his
_«nrrmcc \ltirtk nnnu Wnftm a>
‘But it aint like our Connecticut mud
though.*
* Are all your tubs filled with this kind of
mud?’
♦ Why yes,* said the Yankee,
further progress. Much did poor Wattie
struggle to shake off his loving but unwelcome
spouse, but it was “no go”—his gallopping,
was at an end. « Confound you for aff ideot,”
he exclaimed. “ I peyer could win a guinea
so easy, in all my life.-” It is only necessa
ry to add that the explanation which imme
diately followed was much more satisfactoiy
to mine host than the barber’s better half,
o~r
u
KMgyw.*- ■■ ■
