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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.*- ■■ ■