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SAVANNAH DAILY HERALD.
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SIOU A DftY JOKEK WAS JOKED,
At the name of Cale Meeks, what rem
iniscences pa«s before our mental vision.
Old recollection? come crowding upon
us. and we see au array of the “sold”
:! ass before our mind's eye, in the shape
of seekers after the mythical Frank Mc-
Laughlin, the victim of Croton oil and
jalap, for the administration of which no
medical reason existed, and a long line
of those who have been humbugged
generally without any species of sell.
Cale was the prince of dry jokers ; he
lived, moved and had his being through
a diurnal succession of sells; indeed, his
life was one great sell, composed of a
conglomeration of the infinitestimal sells
of titty years’ duration.
Now Bixby, Nathan Bixby, was one
of Cale’s truest and staunchest business
acquaintances, although he had never
been introduced into the domestic circle,
and made glad by the portly presence of
Mrs. Cale, who was somewhat addicted
to jealousy. The reason for this lack of
acquaintance was that she lived a seclud
ed life iu one of the little villages on
Long Island, and Nat Bixby lived in our
Babel of New York. Well, one clay
Usle was hard pushed for an object upon
which to inflict a practical joke, and in
his dilemma selected his friend Nat as his
victim. \
The manner in which Nat was sold, I
I uo not choose particularly to describe.
Suffice it to say, that under the play of
(Ale's exuberant fancy, Nat made a
journey to Albany, insisting that a lady
there had sent him an amatory epistle
which he produced. The lady became
indignant, called in the aid of her hus
band, who literally skinned Mr. Bixby,
who thereafter returned to Gotham with
a very adult flea in his auricular appa
ratus.
The event happened in the early spring
time, and on a beautiful day. About a
sveek after Nat’s return from Albany, he
met Cale at Siierwoocf’s. The sell was
disclosed by Cale, and a hearty laugh
was had over Nat's mistake, and his still
hmised features, in which he joined ; but
those present noticed the fact that he
didn't laugh au inch below his chin, in
deed, it was generally*believed that Nat's
mirth was entirely simulated.
“Now, old fellow,” said Cale, “you
don’t hold any malice, do you ?”
“Not a bit,” answered Nat, “and in to
ken of amity, let us take smiles all
Around.”
Which-they did in the usual manner.
“How did you come to town ?” asked
Nat.
“I drove up iu a light wagon,” replied
Cale.
“And when will you return home ?”
“About six o'clock tills evening,” re
sponded Cale.
Nat thereupon pleaded an engagement
left; but a3 soon as he was out of
eye-shot of his joker friend, repaired to
•Tray s.stable in Warren street, where.lie
Wved a fast horse and a light vein
tie, with which he started, through a by
r, iet, for the residence of his friend
■ale,.on Long Island. On arriving he
SAVANNAH, GA., SUNDAY MORNING,. MARCH 12, 1835.
left his horse and wagon at a pnb’.ic
house, and proceeded on foot to the
aforesaid residence, where he inquired
of the servant if Mrs. Meeks was at home
On being answered, as he knew he
would be, in the negative, he said :
“This is unfortunate. I want to pay
him some money. If I could see Mrs.
Weeks, it would do as well; she could
give me a receipt in the name of her
husband.”
Mrs. M. was frugal and industrious,
and always attentive to her husband's
interests. As the last remark fell from
the lips of Nat. a fine looking matron
called from up the stairs to the servants
to “show the gentleman in to the parlor,”
where she followed in a few moments. —
Not bowed and said :
‘T desired to see Mrs. Meeks, madam.
“Very well, ” said she, “I am Mrs.
Meeks.”
“Pardon me, madam,” said Nat with
a doubting shake of his head ; “but this
is a matter of some importance—the
payment of money—and you arc not the
lady Mr. Meeks intruduced me to last
winter as his wife.”
“ Not the lady ? What 1” shrieked she,
“ Did you mean to tell me that ’
“I simply tell you madame.” replied
Nat, with icy impertubability, “that Mr.
Meeks last winter in Broadway, near
Leonard street, introduced me to a lady
he called Mrs. Meeks, aud you are not
that lady.”
“Indeed !” exclaimed Mrs. Meeks, her
eyes flashing fire, “how old was she?”
“Well, about twenty-fivel”
“ Twenty-five 1 And how was she
dressed ?”
“She wore her hair in ringlets, and
had diamond ear ring" ”
“ Diamond ear rings 1”
“Silk velvet hat, trimmed with magni
ficent lace, and a muff and boa. ’
“Boa,” wrenched out the now
thoroughly irate dame : “you had bet
tor bore yourself out of this house, sir,
mighty quick. No, sir, I am not Mrs.
Meeks, and I want you to leave.”
“ Oh, certainly,” said Nat, who saw
the tallest kind of a squall brewing, and
who had some good reason to fear that
the sturdy dame might launch at his
head a conch-shell or some other of the
heavy ornaments which adorned the
mantel. Nat therefore beat a retreat
from off the premises, and placed him
self behind a shine fence, from which he
could command a view of the Brooklyn
turnpike. He did not wait long before
be saw the amiable Caleb driving down
the road all unconscious of the ambush
of Nat. The expression upon Caleb’s
face was one of great amiability, and
exemplified that he at was peace with
“ all the world and the rest of mankind.”
In a brief space 'of time Caleb’s steed
was given into the charge of a stable
boy, and unconscious and happy, lie en
tered his domicil and shut the door.—
The moment he entered, an attentive car
might have detected the sounds of a voice
in no way mellow or expressive of en
dearment ; and an instant after Caleb
hurriedly came through the door, with
j amazement on his front and a mop in
bis rear, the wrong end of which was
under the direct and personal superinten
dence of a lady who w T as very red in the
face, and very sturdy in the arms, aud
who strongly resembled Mrs. Meeks.
The battle had commenced in the pas
sage way. Caleb’s castor, which shone
in the rays oftho setting sun as 1 e drove
down the road, was. now very much
bruised and out of shape ; indeed it was
driven far down over Calebs amiable
physiognomy.
“What in thunder’.? out ?” y< lied Caleb.
“Twenty-five years old ?” shrieked the
infuriated dame, and bang, Caleb caught
the mop over his shoulders. “Cork screw
ringlets !” and.plunk he got it iu the back
with all the strength which nature and
anger had given the enraged lady.
“D—n it, don't do that.'’
Bwt it was no use, he had to take it.
“Diamond earrings pank I “Silk
velvet dress 1” bang 1 “Gold bracelets 1”
slump.
“Murder!’ roared Caleb.
“Watch and chain !” she shrieked, and
biff! he took it over his head.
“Muff!” bang ! slump ! “Boa !” bang !
bang ! and down went Caleb with a yell
of "murder!”
Now fell the blows thick and fast upon
the bruised head, back aud face of the
prostrate joker ; while the lady again re
hearsed tiie catalogue of wearing apparel
and jewels of the other Mrs. Meeks,
timing utterance of the name of each
article, with a blow upon her prostrate,
writhing, bleeding lord.
But all things must have an end.—
The violent exercise of the arms and
lungs, in which Mrs. Meeks had indulg
ed, had somewhat exhausted her. Blie
had rapidly rim thrice through Nat’s im
aginary catalogue, and feeling her
strength departing, gathered herself up
for one grand final effort. Caleb looked
with horror upon the upraised mop ; lie
heard the words :
“Oh ! the hussy !” shouted in a vigo
rous tone ; he heard a hustling, whizzing
sound iu the air, and the next instant
Caleb’s nose was as flat us the other
parts of Caleb’s face. His two tormen
tors retreated into the mansion, and left
him alone with his gore.
Slowly, and with- most keen sensa
tions of pain, he raised himself to a sit
ting posture, and with many a groan of
agony, proceeded to inspect his personal
condition.
“Id d—cl if my arm ain't broken !
Oh! And this left shoulder must be dis
located ! Oh ! oh! And, good Lord !
what a nose ! That woman must be
crazy 1 I shan't be able to get about in
a month ! Oh, Lord ! how sore I am !”
Now, Nat, with the most pleasurable
emotions, had, through the crevice of
the fence, obseived the whole ot the
little family jar, which I have so feebly
describecf; and he now stood looking
over the fence, at the back of his dear
friend.
“I say, Uncle Cale!” shouted Nat.
“Hey,” said Caleb, as he turned, iu
some little astonishment, a look upon his
former victim.
“I say Calc,’’ continued Nat, “how do
you feel about now ?”
“Oh, you !” I shall leave if
blank—yelled out the enraged Caleb,,as
lie sprang to his feet and made for the
house—“l’ll fix your flint!”
But Nat did not vvaut any flint fixed,
and therefore made his way, with all
possible celerity, up the road.
Soon alter, tip re appeared upon the
green sward, rendered sanguinary aud
sacred by a con jif al endearment, a lame
man who wore a shocking bad hat, and
who had taken possession of a fowling
piece loaded wkh buckshot. If the
tame man meant to shoot Nat, he reck
oned without his host. That worthy,
thanks to a long :jnd thin pair of legs,
was out of gitnshift range.
Cale from that lime forth, and until
lie filled the gravd which* lie now occu
pies so well, escimvcd dry joking, and
was always sensitke on the subject of
dry mops.
Tub Horrors <t Sacking \ City. —No
language can de;iet the horrors which
succeed a storm, nd the following vivid
but faithful pictuij of Badajoz, as it ap
peared on the cvjning af.er it had been
carried, will ooavy some idea of' the
dreadful outrages fiat ensued. The ac
count is, we belie'e, from the pen of Sir
Charles Napier
It was nearly disk, and the few hours
While I slept bad hade a frightful change
in the condition kid temper of the sol
diers. In the miming they were obe
dient to their ofliejrs, and preserved the
semblance of sulprdinatioi; now they j
a slMe of furious intoxication,
discipline was forgotten, aud the splen
did troops of yesterday had become a
tierce aud sanguinary rabble, dead to
every touch of human feeling, and filled
with every demoniac passion that can
, btutalize the man. The town was iu
i terrible contusion, ami on every side
(lighttill tokens of military license met
the eye.
One street, as I approached the castle,
was almost choked up with broken
lurniture : for the house had been gutted
from the cellar to the garret, the parti
tion torn down and even the beds ripped
anti scatttre.l to the winds, in the hope
that gold might be found concealed.
A convent at the end of the Strada of
B*. James was in flames, and I saw
more than one wretched nun in the
arms ot a drunken soldier. A general
officer had one ot the soldier's 'Wives
stripped of her petticoat, bv the provost,
of which he had got an inkling either
by secret information, or by its obtruding
itself on his notice from being of red vel
vet bordered with a g >ld lac ) six inches
deep, evidently the covering of a com
munion table. Further on, the confu
sion seemed greater ; brandy and w ine
casks were rolled out before the stores;
some were full, soixe half drunk, but
more Slaved in mere wantonness, and
the liquor running through kennel.—
Many a harrowing scream saluted the ear
of a passer-by; rainy a female suppli
cation was heard asking in vain for mer
cy. llow could it be otherwise, when
it ig remembered that twenty thousand
hmous and licentious madmen were
loose upon an immense population,
among which many of the loveliest wo
men upon earth might be found.
All within that devoted city was at the
disposal of au infuriated army, over
whom all command, for the time, was
lost, aided by an infamous collection of
camp followers, who were, if possible,
more sanguinary and pitiless even than
those who had survived the storm. It is
useless to dwell upon a scene from which
the heart revolts. Few females in this
bcautilul town were saved that night
from insult. The noblest and the beggar
—the nun, and the wile and daughter of
the artisan—youth and age were all in
volved in general ruin. None were re
spected, and levy consequently escaped.
Hie madness of these desperate brigands
was variously exhibited. Some fired
through doors and others at
flic church bells; many at the wretched
inhabitants as they fled into the streets lo
escape the bayonets of the savages who
were demolishing their property within
doors; while some wretches as if blood
had not flowed in sufficient torrents
already; shot Irom llioir windows their
own companions as they staggered
below. W hat chanc es had the miserable
inhabitants of escaping death when more
than one officer perished by the bullets
of the very men whom a l :w hours be
fore he had led lo the assault?
ftiT.AKisG Cuoss.—You gain nothing
by a harsh word. What if that boy broke
the pitcher, or put bis elbow through tho
g:a:-s ? Do you mend either by applying
harsh epjthets to him ? Does it. make
Vim men; careful in future ? Does 'he
1 >vo you bettor ? I(ai k ! he is murmur
ing. ' Wimt says the boy ? “I’m glad of
it/; 1 don't care how much I break." lie
talks thus to be even with his master. I*,
is very wrong in him, \vn ku nv ; but it is
human nature, and the example has been
set before him by you.
.Say to the careless boy, “1 am sorry ;
you must be more can ful in future,” and
vvhat will be his reply '< “It was an ac
cident, and 1 will be more careful." He
will never break another pitchercr glass
if he can help it, and lie will respect and
love you a thousand times more than
when youilew in a rage and swore ven
geance on his head. Remember this, ye
who get angry and rare at a trifle.
i ICE
iFlva Cents#
