Newspaper Page Text
Pan) Jones. I
From Miscellaneous Works ,
BY REV. J. T. HEADLEY.
la person, Jones wu slight, being only five
ieet and a half high. A stoop in the shoulders
diminished still more his stature. But lie was
firmly knit, and capable of enduring great fa- j
tigue. He had dark eyes, and a thoughtful, pen
sive look, when not engaged in conversation: hut |
his countenance ligated up in moments of ex
citcmenl, and in battle became terribly deters
mined. His lips closed like a vice, while hi. :
brow contracted with the rigidity of iron. The j
tones of his voice were then haughty in the ex- j
treme, and his words had an emphasis in them
which those who heard never forgot. That he i
was as brave as courage itself no one will
doubt. He seemed unconscious of fear, and
moved amid the storm of battle, and trod the j
deck of his shattered and wrecked vessel, like
one above the power of fate. Ido not believe
he entertained the thought of surrendering his
vessel to any force. It was a contingency he
was unprepared for, and he acted as if con
vinced that his own iron will and resolute cour
age could overcome every obstacle. Thus, in his
fight with the Serapis, he was fairly beaten
several times, but did not seem to know it, and
no doubt had resolved ,to sink with his flag
flying. His boldness and success appear the
more strange when one remembers what kind
of vessels he commanded, of what materials
his crews were composed, and the well,
manned and ably-commanded vessels of bis
adversary’. He would cruise without fear in a
single sloop right before the harbors of Eng
land, and sail amid ships double the s;ze of his
own.
But with all his fierceness in the hour of bat.
tie, he had as kind a heart as ever beat. His
sympathy seemed almost like sentimentality.—
To see him in a hot engagement, covered with
the smoke of cannon, himself working the guns,
while the timbers around hitn were constantly
ripping with the enemy’s shot, or watch him
on the. deck of his dismasted vessel over which
the hurricane swept and the sea rolled, one
would have thought him destitute of emotion.
But his reports of these scenes afterwards re
sembled the descriptions of an excited specta
tor unaccustomed to the scenes of carnage and
terror. He was an old Roman soldier in
danger, but a poet in his after accounts of it.
Jones had great defects of character, but most
of them sprung from his want of early educa
tion. He was haughty to his under officers,
and frequently overbearing to his superiors.—
But his chief fault was vanity. He would ad
mit no superior, and hence never acknowledged
that he received his deserts. He was constant
ly pushing his claims, tiil he wearied out fits
friends, and sometimes disgusted his admirers.
He was as bombastic as he was brave—a con
tradiction of character seldom exhibited. There
was something of the charlatan about him,
which reminds one of Beruadoite ; and he
nevei hesitated to puff himself, and dilate elo
qtiently on his own achievements. Out of this
same vanity grew his inordinate love of pomp
and display. Io this respect he aped the nobles
with whom he associated. But money was
frequently wanted to carry out his extravagant
notions, and hence he became unscrupulous in
the means he used to obtain i. He was chiv
alric in his admiration of women—writing po.
etry and making love to some in every port
where he stopped—and frequently became in
volved in intrigues that lessen our respect for
his character. He was a restless being, and
his brain constantly teemed with schemes, all
of which he deemed practicable, and hence be
came querulous and (ault-finding when others
disagreed with him. Many of his plans for the
improvement ol our marine were excellent,
and it only wanted funds to render them worthy
of immediate attention by our Government.—
This restlessness grew out of his amazing en
ergy —he was constantly seeking something on
which to expend himself, and this was the rea
son why he joined the Russian service after
peace was proclaimed in the United States. It
was this aione that carried him from his low
condition through so many trials, and over so
many obstacles, to the height of lame at last
reached.
He was not mero adventurer—owing his
elevation to headlong daring—he was a hard
student as well as hard fighter, and had a strong
intellect as well as strong arm. He wrote with
astonishing fluency, considering the neglect of
his early education. He even wrote eloquent
ly at times, and always with force. His words
were well chosen, and he was able to defend
himself with the pen as with the sword. He
now and then indulged in poetry, especially in
his epistles to the ladies, and his verses were
as good as the general run of poetry of that
kind.
Paul Jones was an irregular character, but
his good qualities predominated over his had
ones ; and as the man who first hoisted the
American flag at sea, and received tho first
salute offered it by a foreign nation, and the
first thut carried it victoriously through the
fight on the waves, he deserves our highest
praise and most grateful remembrance.
With such a man to lead the American navy,
and stand before it as the model of a brave
man, no wender it has covered itself with
glory.
The Wife.
BY JOHN O. WHITTIER.
Sho was a beautiful girl when I first saw
her. She was standing up by the aide of her
lover at the marriage altar. She was slightly
pale—yet ever and anon, as the ceremony pro.
ceeaed, a faint tinge ol crimson crossed her
beautiful cheek, like the reflection of a sunset
cloud upon the clear waters of a quiet lake.
Her lover, as he clasped her hand within his
own, gazed on her a moment with unmingied
admiration, and the warm and eloquent blood
shadowed at intervals his manly forehead and
melted in beauty on his lips.
And they gave themselves to one another in
the presence of heaven, and ever) heart bless
ed them as they went their way rejoicing hi
their love.
Years passed on and I again saw these lov
•rs. They were seated together where the
light of sunset stole through half closed crimson
curtains, lending a richer lint to the delicate
carpeting and tho exquisite embellishment of
the gorgeous apartment. Time had slightly
changed them in outward appearance. The
girlish buoyancy of the one had indeed given
place to the grace of perfect womanhood, and
hr lips were somewhat paler, and a faint line
of care was slightly perceptible upon her brow.
Her husband’s brow, too, was marked some
what more deeply than his age might warrant ;
anxiety, and ambition, and pride, had grown
over it ; a silver hue was mingled around his
temples almost to baldness. He was half re
clining on his splendid ottoman w’ith his face
half hidden by his hand, as if he feared that
the deep and troubled thoughts which oppressed
him were visible upon his features.
“Edward, you are ill to-night,” said his wife,
in a low ands weet voice, as she laid her hands
on his own.
Indifference from those we love is terriblo
to the sensitive bosom. It is as if the sun of
heaven refused its wonted cheerfulness and
glared upon ns with a cold, dim. and forbidding
glance. It is dreadful to feel that the only be
ing of our love refuses to ask our sympathy ;
that she broods over the feeling which he scorns
or feirs to reveal ; dreadful to watch the con
vulsive features of a gloomy brow, the indefin
able shadows of hidden emotion, the involunta
ry sign of sorrow in which we are forbidden
to participate, and whose character we cannot
know. The wife essayed once more—
“ Edward,” she said, slowly and mildly, and
affectionately, “the time has been when you
were willing to confide your secret joys and
sorrows to one who has never, I trust, betray
ed your confidence. Why, then, dear Edward,
is this cruel reserve ? You are troubled, and
yet refuse to tell mo the cause.”
Something of returning tenderness softened,
for an instant, the cold severity ol the husband’s
features : but it passed away, and a bitter sinile
was his only reply.
Time passed on and the twain were separa
ted fiom each other. The husband sat gloomy,
alone in the damp cell of a dungeon. He had
followed ambition, ns a God, and had fallen in
a high career. He had mingled with men
whom his heart loathed ; he had sought out the
fierce and wronged spirits of the land, and had
breathed into them the madness of revenge.
He had drawn his sword against his country;
he had fanned rebellion to a flame, and it had
been quenched in human blood. He had fall,
en, miserably fallen, and was doomed to die
the death of a traitor.
The door of the dungeon opened, and a
light form entered and threw herself into his
arms. The softest light of summer fell upon
the |ale brow, and wasted cheek of his once
beautiful wife.
“Edward, my dear Edward,” said she, “I
have come to save you ; 1 have reached you af
ter a thousand difficulties, and, I thank God,
my purpose is nearly executed.”
Misfortune had softened the proud heart of
manhood ; and as the husband pressed his pale
wife to his bosom, a tear trembled on his eye
lash.
“I have not deserved this kindness,” he mur
mured in a choked tone of agony.
“Edward,” said his wife, in a faint low voice,
which indicated extreme and fearful debility,
“we have not a moment to lose. By an ex
change of garments you will be able to pass out
unnoticed. Haste, or you may yet be too late.
Fear nothing for me. lam a woman ; and
they will not injure me for my efforts in behalf
of a husband dearer than life itself.”
“But, Margaret,” said the husband, “you look
sadly ill. You cannot breathe the air ol this
dreadful cell.”
“Oh, speak not to me, my’ dearest Edward,”
said the devoted woman ; “I can enlure any
thing for your sake. Haste, Edward, and all
will be welland she aided with a trembling
hand, to disguise the proud form of her husband
in female garb.
“Farewell, my love, my preserver,” whis
pered the husband in the ear of the disguised
wife, as the officer gternly reminded the supposed
lady that the time allotted to her visit had ex
pired.
“Farewell, we shall not meet again !” re
sponded the wife, and the husband passed out
unsuspected, and escaped the enemies of his
life.”
They did meet again, but only as the dead
meet, in the awful comrnunings of another world.
Affection had borne up her exhausted spirit until
the last great purposes of her exertions were ac
complished in the safety of her husband, and
when the bell tolled on the morrow, and the
prisoner’s cell was opened, the guards found
wrapped in the habiliments of their destined
victim, the pale but beautiful corpse of the Wife.
A Story with a Moral.
We invite attention to the following trite story,
from the Boston Chronotype. The moral it conveys
is especially worthy of remembrance. The doctrine
ol charity cannot be too earnestly or too frequently
inculcated. We are among those who believe that
a large portion of the convicts who crowd our Peni
tentiaries, might have been rescued from the down
ward path, had they, in early lile, met with some be
nevolent, generous and kind-hearted individual, wil
ling not only to advise, but assist.— Sat. Eve. Post.
About ten months ago, Mr. John Spear, upon one
of his usual visits to the Police Court one morning,
n >ticed, among the prisoners, a youth, who was poor
ly clad, and, for some cause, was weeping. The
philanthropist sat down by his side, and the follow
ing conversation ensued :
Why are you here, my son ?”
“ l atn accused of selling newspapers, sir, without
a license ”
“Areyou guilty?”
“ Yes.sir.
“ Have >ott been arrested before ?”
“ Yes, sir—twice.”
“ What f.i ?”
*• For selling newspapers.”
“ Why do you persist in doing it ?”
“ Because I don't know what else to do to get a
living.”
“ jlave you a father ?”
“ No, sir; my father is dead.”
“ Is your mo-her living?’’
“ My mother is a drunkard ; she don’t take any
care of tne. I don't know where she is now /”
As he uttered these last words, the deep waters of
the little fellow's soul burst forth afresh, and he ex
pressed his grief aloud.
“ Where do you lodge ?” continued the philanthro
pist.
“ Near Union Street, sir; I pay nine pence a night
for my lodging, in advance, and I buy two plates of
beans in the course of the day, for which I pay as
much more.”
*• How do you spend your evenings?”
“ 1 walk about the streets, or go into the auction
rooms.”
“ Why don’t you sit down in the house where you
lodge, by the fire, and read ?”
* Because tfie woman of the house is poor. She
has no room for me at her fire.”
“ Would you I ike to go into the country and work,
if a place could be obtained for you ?”
*• Yes, sir; I would be glad to go and work for my
living. I don’t want to stay in Boston, but I have
no one to get a place for me. I don’t want to go
down to the jail again.”
The philanthropist new spoke to the Judge, re
specting the prisone . This seemed to worry Mr.
Power.'the petty tyrant and Clerk of the Court, who
seems ever ready to throw frozen water upon any
thing that does not harmonize with the discordant
music of his soul. He informed Mr. Spear that it
would be of no use to try to do any thing for that
Si QOTTGO §1 SO §SKOTTOS3II =
boy, because he had been twice sent to jail for the
same thing before, and it did him no good
“ That is a good and sufficient reason,” wag the
calm and determined reply of the philanthropist,
“ why he should not be sent there again.”
After some conversation, the Judge reduced the
fine to one cent and cost, which the philanthropist
paid, and then taking the boy by the hand, they both
left the Court.
Now for the sequel. Mr. Spear took the boy to
his own house, and supplied him with food and clo
thing, and obtained a place for bin} in the country.
Last week, the day before Thanksgiving, the grate
ful boy, for the first time, came to the city, to see his
benefactor. He had been steadily at work at the
place which Mr. Spear provided for him, and is still
at work there, earning nine dollars a month and his
board.
Such is the lesson which charity teaches us. We
will not moralize upon the evil which would have
pursued tfiat boy, had lie been left to the mercy of the
Police Court, but thank the generosity of him whose
only wish is to heal the wounds of woe, and who
always
hath a tear for want, and a hand
Open as day for melting pity,
for his noble service in the cause of charity.
Strauss and Death. —Strauss was a man
of remarkable genius, and not only developed
the powers of the German dance, in an unpre
cedented degree, hut influenced the. whole of
modern music. Composers of no mean note,
although not of the first class, were known to vis
it Vienna to get themes for new operas from
Strauss’ new waltzes. His decease reminds us
of a capital story which appeared in some Ger
man paper shortly after the cholera of’3*2. We
heard it from a clever Viennese musician, and
wish that we could give it with the spirit of his
side-splitting recital. Here it is as wc remem
ber it :
When the cholera was at its height, Death
knocked one morning at the panel of Strauss’s
chamber, having an old woman by his side,
whom he had picked up next door. “Corfie,
Strauss,” said the grim sheriff who collects Na
ture’s debts, “you must go along with me.”
“With you,” exclaimed the terrified musician.
“No, I can’t; I won’t. I’m only thirty years
old. Spare me a little longer!” “No, Strauss,
you must come ; don’t keep me waiting ; I have
an immensity to do these stirring times.” ‘Oh!
I can’t go ; I am making thirty thousand thalers
a year. You can’t be so hard-hearted as to
take away from Vienna a man ofonly thirty years
with thirty thousand thalers a year !’ ‘None of
this nonsense. Hard-hearted ? Don’t you see
through my ribs that I have no heart at all ?
Come along, Strauss, come along'!’ ‘But consid
er, Death, what the Emperor will think of you,
and how the whole court will vote you a bore, if
they get no new waltzes next winter!’ ‘Pshaw,
for your Emperor! I will carry’ him off if he
says much. I should like to see them put Death
out of fashion.’ ‘Well, then, since I must go,
let me play one more waltz before I leave my
darling instrument,” pleaded the poor trembler.
‘So you may, but see that it is a good one,’ ans
wered Death, cocking his ear like a connoisseur.
Strauss played the waltz, Death marking the
measure complacently; and saying, when it
was through, with a patronizing air, ‘Pretty well,
Strauss ; you may play another.’ Strauss be
gait in a more spirited strain. Death kept tho
time with hand and foot; the old w'oinan kept
the time also; until, unable to resist the
more than magical impulse, he threw his arms
about her, and round and round spun death and
the old woman. Faster and faster played Strauss;
faster and faster whirled Death and the old wo*
man. Strauss playing for the little remnant ol
his life, showed no signs of weariness, but Death
was getting exhausted and giddy. ‘Stop, Strauss!
stop?’ he cried. Strauss played on. ‘Stop!
I say, Strauss !’ Strauss only put on a
crescendo. ‘Strauss! Strauss! I can’t stop
myself, if you don’t stop ! Stou, I say !’ ‘Will
you give me clear, if I stop!’ asked Strauss.
I, can’t—do—that,’ says Death, gasping out his
words. “Then yon shall waltz on,’ answers
Strauss, exulting in his power to create a soul
under the ribs of Death. At last, Death, beat
en out, says, still whirling like a dervish, ‘l’ll—
make—a—bargain-with-you-ou-ou-ou.” ‘What
is it ?’ replies Strauss, playing yet more furious
ly. ‘You—shall—live—for—years longer—if
—you —will—pay—me—instead-.-of your life—
the lives—of fifty thousand---other—peo-ee.ple—
each--ye.ar.ea-r !’ ‘Done !’ cries Strauss. So
ever since, fifty thousand people each year have
killed themselves dancing Strauss’ waltzes!
[K nickerborker .
The Laborer.
The laborer, the laborer,
God’s nobleman is he—
His works are graven on the soil,
They float on every sea ;
The key-stone in the social arch,
Utility his crest —
• His days are spent in manly toil,
His nights yield balmy rest.
O’ In sickness there is no hand like a woman’s
hand—no heart like a woman’s heart—no eye so un
tiring. no hope so fervent. Woman by a sick man’s
couch is divinity impersonated.
Dr. Belknap and Opfosers.— A rough country
man asked Dr. Belknap, one day, if he really believ
ed there had lived such a man as Job. The Dr. took
up his Bible and made him read :
“There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name
was Job.”
“ You see the Bible says so.”
“ So it does,” drawled out the man.
“Do you know any thing to the contrary ?” asked
the Doctor.
“ No, I don’t,” replied the man.
“ Neit er do I!” said the Doctor, and thus ended
the inquiry.
In a mixed com, any, hearing a person speak in a
very free manner against the Christian religion, he
asked:
“ Have you found one that is better?” And the re
ply being in the negative, he added :
“ When you do, let me know, and I will join you
in adopting it.”
Profanity. —The Rev. Dr. Cox, while late'y
speaking of the “ sins of the nation,” said : “ There
is one awfully prominent—profane swearing. But
ol all the dark catalogue, there is not one more vile
and execrable. It commonly does, and loves to clus
ter with othersins; and he who looks up and insults
his Maker to his face, needs but a little more im
provement to make him a finished devil.”
To Curs. Hams.— ls people will pursue the follow
ing method of curing hams, they will have them rich,
juicy, and of excellent flavor. Take a quarter
pound of saltpetre, two pounds of fine salt, one quart
molasses, and incorporate them well together; rub
the mixture on the hams thoroughly, then pack them
in a barrel or tub, and let them lay one week ; take
them up and place the upper layer at the bottom,
and let them lay another week. Make a pickle
strong enough to bear up an egg, and pour it on un
til! the hams are covered : keep them in the pickle
four weeks ; take them up, and, after draining, they
will be ready for smoking.
How to Make ▲ Good Cup of Tea.—M.
Soyer recommends that before pouring in any wa
ter, the teapot, with the tea in it, shall be placed
in the oven till hot, or heated by means of a spir
it lamp, or in front of the fire, (not too close, of
course,) and the pot then filled with boiling wa
ter. The result, he says, will be, in about a
minute, a most delicious cup of tea, much superi
or to that drawn in the ordinary way.
Prospectus.
The Bunkum Flag Staff is published every
now and then at Bunkum, and also at the office
•if the Knickerbocker in New York. It will
take a firm stand on the side of virtue and mo
rality. It has received the most marked encomi
ums from the press and from individooals. Our
brother has also written to us in most flatterin’
terms of our journal. We shall endeavor to
merit these marks of favor, and it affords us the
most adequate satisfaction to inform our readers
that Miss Mary Ann Delightful, the pleasant
w’riter, who is all smiles and dimples, is engaged
not to be married, reader, though that is an
event no doubt to take place—but is engaged to
furnish a series of articles for this paper. Oth
er talent will be snapped up as it occufs. All
kinds ofjob work executed with neatness and
despatched. The Fine Arts and Literature ful
ly discussed- There will be a series of dis
criminating articles on music, to which we call
the attention of amatoors. Principles of’Ninety
Eight, and all the great measures of the day, as
well as all other principles, fully sustained ; vice
uprooted bv the heels, and cast him like a nox
ions weed away. For farther particulars see
large head :
The Bunkum Flag-Staff
Is Edited by Mr. Wagstaff.
Horses and cabs to let by the editor. Old
newspapers tor sale at this offis. Wanted, an
Apprentice. He must be bound for eight years,
fold and carry papers, ride post onc-t a week to
Babylon, Pequog, Jericho, Old Man’s, Mount
Misery, Hungry Harbor, Hetchabonnuck, Cor
am, Miller’s place, Shunk’s Manor, Fire Island,
Mosquito Cove and Montauk Point, on our old
white mare, and must find and blow his own horn.
Run Away, an Indented Apprentice, named John
Johns, scar on his head, one ear gone, and no
debts paid of his contracting. California gold,
banks at par, pistareens, fippenny bits and Uni*
ted’n Sates’n currency in general, received in
subscription. Also, store pay, potatoes, corn,
rye, oats, eggs, beans, pork, grits, hay, o Id rope,
lambs’ wool, shovels, honey, shorts, dried cod,
catsup, oil, bul’nut bark, paints, glass, putty,
hemp, snake root,cord wood, live geese feathers,
saxafax, dried apples, hops, new- cider, axe-hand
les, mill stones, hemlock gum, bacon and hams,
ginshang root, vinegar, punkins, ellacompuin,
harness, hops, ashes, slippery-ellurn bark, clams,
nails, varnish, sheet iron, sapasgo cheese, old
junk, whisk brooms, manure, and all other pro
duce, taken in exchange.
Those who don’t want the last number of the
Flag Staff pleas return it to this offis, post paid,
ns the demand for that number is very great.
A patent churn and washing machine, to go by
dog power, are left here for inspection.
For sale a One Year Old Heifer ; Pair of
Young Bullocks in Harness. Wanted to hire, a
New Milch Fairer Cow ; give eight quarts of
milk night and morning ; also, to change milks
with some neighbor with a cheese press for a
skim milk cheese once’t a week.
[Knickerbocker for January.
“Editors Free.” —While on board of one of
the splendid steamers which ply between Buffa
lo and Chicago, the fur on our chin grew rather
longer than was agreeable,and we repaired to the
barber’* shop on board, to have it taken off. The
fellow did it up in first rate style. After he had
combed and oiled nur head, brushed our clothes,
and slicked us up fine, we felt gratified, pulled
out a dime, and proffered it to him as a reward
for his services. He drew himself up with con
siderable pomposity. “I understood,” said he,
“dat you is an editor?” “Well, what of it?”
said we. “We never charge editors nuffin,”
said he. “But, my woolly friend,” said we,
“there are a good many editors travelling now.
a-days, and such liberality on your part will prove
a ruinous business.” “Oh, neber mind,” said he,
“we makes it all up off de gemmen !”
[ Western paper.
Perpetual Motion Again, —The Maine Far
mer and Gazette states that Mr. S. B. Walton,
of Livermore Falls, in that State, has at last in
vented perpetual motion, that it can move a clock,
and “has been in operation, unless stopped by
some foreign agent, for a year or more.”
There are three perpetual motions at present
in the field, one in Georgia, one in Pennsylvania
and one in Maine. When will men be wise ?
no machine can give out more power than it
receives.
CfcCr’ A New Orleans paper is responsible for
the following :
“Why have you volunteered?” said a rather
care-worn looking newly-enrolled volunteer, to a
line looking young country soldier. “Why. I
volunteered because I have no wile, and go in
for war,” was the unequivocal reply : “and now,
why have you volunteeredhe added. “Ah”
said the little care-worn man, with a sigh, “1
have volunteered because I have a uife and go
in for peace”
Hoosieh Arguments. —Gentlemen of the Ju
ry, said a Hoosier Lawyer, I ar satisfied ofyour
integrity and sense ofjustioe,and so are my client,
and I respect your honesty so much, that if I was
as rich as John Jacob Astoria, I wouldn’t offer
you a bribe on no consideration. I scorns to in
fluence you in any manner without any intention
of woundin’ yer feelings, which are no doubt as
tender as a barked shin, that if you give your
verdict in favor of my client, it ar my settled in
tention to take you to the doggery for a drink
twice around, (the Judge and Constables inclu
ding,) but if you are deaf to the voice of law and
honor, just as soon as the court have adjourned,
we mean to lick you like thunder.
Value of Honor on a Death Bed. —A dis
tinguished character had an extraordinary mark
of distinction and honor sent him by his prince,
as he lay on his death bed. “Alas !” said he,
looking upon it, “this is a mighty fine thing in this
country ; but I am just going to a country where
it will be of no service to me.”
Cultivation of the Castor Bean in Ohio.— A
company of manufacturers have recently put up a
castor oil mill in Cincinnati, Ohio, and in order to
encourage the growth of the castor bean in that
State, propose to furnish all farmers wishing to cul
tivate them with seed, and contract with them for all
they raise, at the market price. The present price
is $2 a bushel. The bean is planted and cultivated
the same as Indian corn, and will produce from 30
to 50 bushels an acre. The market is now supplied
to a considerable extent from Illinois.
British India.— lt contains 100,000,000 of peo
ple ; is provided with an army of 300,000 men, whose
support costs §70,000,000 per annum, the whole
puolic revenue of India being only twice $70,000,000.
There are thousands of military officers brought
from Europe, whose appointments are a source of
patronage in the hands of influential men. In 1846,
the public debt of India (apart from that of Eng
land) was $187,000,000, the annual interest on
which was nearly $9,000,000.
Languages. —There are three thousand six hun
dred and sixty-four known languages now in use in
the world. Os these, nine hundred and thirty-seven
are Asiatic, five hundred and eighty-seven European ;
two hundred and seventy-six African; and one
thousand six hundred and twenty-four American I
dialects. I
O’ A preacher, who advised a drowsy hearer to
take a pinch of snuff occasionally at service, to
keep him awake, was advised, in return, to put snuff
in his sermons.
O’ A negro’s idea of love, as given by one of
the Ethiopian Serenaders :—“Ah, nigger ! feel as
I was up in the clouds between two hot buckwheat
cakes, and all the little angels were pouring down
’lasses on me.”
O” The Freshmen at old Dartmouth made them
selves quite merry bv the following conundrum:——
“ Why is the Sophomore class, studying trigonome
try, like the scribes and pharisees of old ? Because
it is a wicked generation seeking after a sine, <kc.
The sophs retort by the following :—“ W liy is the
freshmen recitation room like that remarkable tree,
whose leaves quiver in the lightest breeze ? Be
cause it Is an ass pen, (aspen.”)
O” A western girl, after giving her lover a hearty
smack, exclaimed :—“ Dog my cat, if you haint been
takin’ a little rye, old host.”
Going I ■ at one.—The following singular an
nouncement of a marriage appeared in a late Balti
more Argus:
“ Married.— On the 12th nit., by the Rev. E. h.
Allen, Charles W. Armstrong, all ot this city. ’
Hope he has a good time.
D” Why is President Taylor like the Pope of
Rome ? Because his great State papers are “bulls.”
Astonishing Transmogrific • tion. —We saw a
man swallow half a dozen glasses, and in less tlmn
ten minutes after he became a tumbler !
O’ An Editor at a dinner fable, being asked if he
would take some more pudding, replied : —“Owing to
a crowd of other matter, I am unable to make room
lor it.”
“Shon,’ ’ said a Dutchman, “you may say what you
please ’bout bad neighbors; I bad te vorst neighbors
as. never was. Mine pigs and mine hens come home
mit dere ears split, and todder day two of them come
home missing /”
Taking the Census.—llow many are there in
this family ?
Do you mean children and all ?
Certainly. ,
Ah, then, there ain't none—’cause my children s
all gals, ’cept John, and he ain’t my child. D’ye
count John ?
How many females are there in the family ?
Females! Let me see, there ain't none but Bid
dy,’the hired gal.
’ I understood you to say that your children were
all girls.
La! Yes ! Wal, d’ye count them too ?
Certainly, I do— l count all who make their home
in your family—old and young—men, women, and
children.
Snakes alive ! Then yon want to put down the
old man, I s’pose —don't you ?
What old man ?
My old man, to be sure.
I thought you said that John, the servant, was the
only male in the family.
So I did—but I didn’t s’pnse ‘ males ’ meant de
cripit old men, like my husband. Poor dear ! He s
been all but dead with palsy, six years next hoeing.
Now tor the females.
Well, here’s Biddy, and Prudence, and Grace, and
Jemima, and—that's all four of ’em.
But you havn’t included yourself.
Gracious! D’ye put down the old woman, too?
’Pears to me the State’s mighty curus this year.
Singular Ignorance. —A countryman being in
Buffalo lately, and after being shown the sights by a
friend, suddenly asked, “ But where is the Buffalo
platform ?” The gentleman accompanying him, ex
plained, with some difficulty in restraining himself,
that the staging put up on that occasion, had been
taken down after the performance was over !
Not Inviting. —A coffin maker having apartments
to let, pasted his bills upon the coffins in the win
dow', announcing ‘Lodgings for single gentlemen.’
The Hit Palpable. —A few’ days since a travel
ler stepped into a bank, and immediately after his
entrance, pulled off his hat, coat, and cravat. This
done, he cast a look at the cashier, who was seated
in a corner, “calm as a summer morning,” arid, with
a commanding shake of the head, said : Hadn't you
belter be getlin’ that ‘ere water healed ?” The teller
informed him that ht was in the w'rong “shop.”
“ You are in a bank, sir, not a barber’s shop.”
“ Bank, eh !” ejaculated the stranger, “ Dang me,
they told me it was a shaving shop.”
O’ Joe Dun, an English bailiff, living in the reign
of Hpnry VII., was so indefatigable in his business,
that it became a proverb, when a person did not pay
his debts, “ Why don’t you dun him ?” Hence origi
nated the word dun.
O’ Another little addition is anticipated to the do
mestic circle of Queen Victoria.
D* “Sal,” said lisping Sam Snooks, “if you don’t
love me, thay tho; and if you do love me. thay tho;
and if you do love me, and don’t like to thay tho,
squeeth my hand.” She put her hand upon her bus
sum, Sam felt the gentle pressure of t’other paw, and
was as happy as a pollywoggle.
Not so Bad. —One of our townsmen, meeting
with one of the strolling organ players, was in
clined to engage in conversation with him, and
asked him :
“What part of the great drama of life do yen
perform ?”
i “I mind my own business !” was the brief
reply.
Popping the Question. —“ Sally, don’t I like you?”
.“Law, Jim, 1 reckon so.”
“ Hut, don't you know it, Sally. Don’t you think
I’d tear the eyes out of any tom cat that dare look
cross at you ?”
“ I s’pect you would.”
“ Well, the tact of it is, Sally, I—”
“Oh, now, don’t Jim—l feel all overish.”
“ And, Sally, I want you to—”
“Don’t say any thing more, I shall—”
“ But, I must, I want you to—”
“ O hush, don’t I, oh—”
“ I want you to-night to get—”
“What, so soon? Oh, no, impossible: Father
and Mother will be angry with me.”
“ How, be rnad at you for doing for me such a fa
vor as to m—”
“ Yes, dear me, I’m so agitated.”
“ But there’s some mistake, for all I want to have
you do is, to— mend my skirt-collar.”
Strakoscii and Cotton.— At the grand con
cert the other evening, while Strakosch was per.
forming a very difficult piece with variations on
the piano, a cotton planter who was admiring the
dexterity with which the musician made use of
his fingers, more than the music, exclaimed to a
friend : “By the Lord, Harry, what a magnifi
cent cotton picker that fellow would make !”
A Quack Answered. — A quack in Boston, visit
ing his patient one morning, was accosted thus :
“ Doctor, what is it that keeps the meat and drink
apart in the stomach ?”
“ I’ll tell you,” says the quack ; “in every person’s
throat, there are two pipes and a clapper; now when
we go to eat, that clapper shuts the drinking pipe.”
“ Well. Doctor,” replied the patient, “that clapper
must play darned sharp when we eat pudding and
milk!”
“ Have you got Mitford’s Greece?” asked a lady
of a bookseller's lad who was rather raw.
“No, ma’am,” replied the latter, “we don’t keep]
no grease here ; but you can get it at Barney O’Drip- ;
pen’s, the grocer, on the next corner.”
Parsing Extraordinary. —The following scene
is said to have occurred in a school not a hundred
miles from London : —Teacher: “ What part of
speech is the word egg ?”—Teacher: “ Is it m.iscu- j
line, feminine or neuter?” Boy, (looking sharp:) 1
“Can’t say, sir, till it’s hatched.” Teacher : ‘ ‘Well, j
then, my lad, can you tell me the case ?” Boy, 1
(quickly 0 “ Oh, yes, sir, it’s in the shell.”
“ Bob, is that dog a hunter ?”
“ No, he is half hunter and half setter ; he hunts!
bones when he’s hungry, and sits by the stove when !
he is satisfied.”
The Value of tbc Worth and South to
Each Other.
In a vigorous article on this subject signed “L,”
which we find in the Columbia Telegraph, tho
writer says :
“The South, I have said, is eminently agri
cultural. She raises not only’ the great staples
of cotton, rice, tobacco, and sugar, in abundance,
but enough also of the ordinary bread-stuffs for
domestic consumption and some little for expor
tation. The North, from the unfavorable char
acter of her climate, being cold, inhospitable and
unproductive, raises none of the former, and bare*
ly enough of the latter to sustain her dense pop*
ulation. It is true she exports provisions, but l
doubt if the rice of the South, the corn, wheait
and pork of the West, were excluded, whether
she would have anything of this kind to spare for
this purpose. Consequently her dependence up*
on other sections for every other agricultural
’ production is clear and unquestionable. Admit*
ting, however, that I am in error in regard to hes
capacity for the production of articles of htimaw
lood, the South at least is not at all dependent up*
on her for this, asVirginin, Maryland, Kentucky#
Tennessee, and Missouri, leaving out the’
mountain region of the Carolinas and Georgia#
will be fully able to supply all our wants and seeds
Europe besides.
“Sugar, rice and tobacco, may be considered
as luxuries demanded by the civilization or ef
feminacy ot the age, but cotton is not. This latter
with the ordinary breadstuff's, are the absolute
necessaries of life, (clothing being as necessary
as food) and neither can be dispensed with.
The first, from its cheapness and greater adapta
tion to various fabrics, has become and must ever
continue to be, the chief article for clothing the
world ; and fortunately for the South. Providence
has so ordered that it can only be raised in its
greatest perfection within a belt of 8 degrees in
width, extending from 29 deg. to 37 deg. north
latitude, and from the Atlantic to the Rio Grande
river or its neighborhood. So great and univer
sal has become the consumption of this article
alone, so necessary to the occupation and com
fort of the laboring millions of Europe and Eng
land, that two years ago,the London Times ad
mitted, that if the supply was cut off even for %
single year, a revolution would be the conse
quence, probably one overturning our time-hon
ored institution. The same may be said of the
North, for the same state of things there exists,
though perhaps not to the same aggravated ex
tent. The South has nothing ofthHf kind to fear ;
the absence then of a positive evil resulting t
the North from a separation may be set down as
a gain to the former to some extent.
“Ol this article of cotton alone, the North now
consumes 500,000 bales, worth say 815,000,000.
Affer its manufacture, it is supposed that it has
been increased in value ten-fold, or that North
ern labor and Northern machinery has added
8135,000,000 to the value of its first cost
—hence it is readily seen how great an item in
their prosperity this single product (and our favored
clime must be. Upon this, then, and the other
great staples of rice, tobacco, and sugar, rests
mainly the shipping, commercial and rnanufactu-i
ring interests of the whole North.
“If it were all cut offi as it would be by the
abolition ot slavery, the North would be ruined
beyond redemption in less than five years.”
Gca. Cass and the Wilmot Proviso.
We have before expressed the opinion that ther
Wilmot Proviso, or any other measure of a similar
character, even though it might pass the House of
Representatives, could not, by any process of politi
cal maneuvering, be forced through the Senate. We
are confident enough Senators from free States
to deteat its passage, could be found to vote against
it. In this estimate we include Mr. Benton among
these in favor of the proviso, though it is more prob
able that he will use his influence against it. As tho
Senate is composed of sixty meml>ers, equally divi
ded between free and slave States, there being fif
teen of each, it would require the casting vote ot the
Vice President, Mr. Fillmore, to settle the question,
if the members should ail vote according to their
sectional affinities. Giving Mr. Benton to the Fre
Soilers, in such a rase the Proviso would have a ua
--! jority of two. But it is well known that at least tw
| Senators from the free Slates were decidedly opposed
I to all legislation by Congress on the subject ol slave
jry in the Territories. These gentlemen were
I Messrs. Douglass ot Jllliuois, and Cass of Michigan.
I They were both instructed by the Legislatures of
j their respective States to record their votes in favor
j of the restrictive clause, and on this account much
| curiosity has been manifested concerning the course
| they would pursue in the dilemma in which they are
| thus placed. Both are opposed to the Wilmot Provi
so, yet both yield assent to the doctrine of instruc
tion, contending that the Senator is bound to obey
implicitly the wishes of his constituents, or resign
the seat to which he was chosen as the representa
tive of their interests and opinions. Mr. Douglass,
it has been stated, will in this instance give Ids previ
ously avowed notions the go-bv, in voting against
the instructions of his State Legislature. Mo one
yet can tel! whether this rumor is founded in truth,
’ but no long time will elapse before Mr. Douglass
must take a position and let the public know what
he is going to do. Air. Cass, if appears, has already
defined his position, and it turns onl to be the identi
cal one to which he was assigned by common rumor.
We perceive by the St. Louts Republican of the
10th inst., that “he has written a letter to a friend is
Jefferson City, Mo., which was published in the
Metropolitan of that place, and in which he avows
his intention never to vote for the proviso, and de
clares that rather than be compelled to do so he will
abandon his place as Senator from Michigan. The
precise words which he uses, as we find them quoted
! m the Republican, are these : “ 1 am instructed by
the Legislature of Michigan to vote for the Wilmot
Proviso. This I shall never do. But when the time
comes I shall give my views in full upon the subject,
and resign my seat in the Senate.”
‘Phis is periectly explicit. It admits of no misin
terpretation. If is now certain that Gen. Cass will,
resign his seat in the Senate if the proviso come be
fore that body. It is also an acknowledgment of
the right of instruction and the duty of the Senator
to obey or resign. To this extent the St. Louis Re
! publican considers tiie letter a censure on Col. Ben
ton and Senator Douglass, both of whom are stand
ing out against their instructions. It will, that pa
per intimates, be used with decided ettect against
Col. Benton in Missouri, and questions very much
whether the Bentonians would have proposed a com
plimentary resolution to Gen. Cas, such as they
passed on the Bth inst., had they known that he waa
writing letters to their great leader’s own State, cal
culated to weaken his position in his appeal to that
people of Missouri from the instructions of the Legis
lature.—N. O. Delta.
ITT Senator Cass in his late speech, paid the foI
lowing tribute to the press:
*• It pronounces the opinion of the present day,
and anticipates tiie judgment of posterity. None
are so high as to be beyond its censure, none so low
I as not to be encouraged by its approbation.”
Mr. Calhoun s V\ orjc on Government.
Washington correspondent of the New York iicrald,
I says: .
Mr. Calhoun s work on Government, with com*
ments on the. history of the Constitution, is now in
press, and will soon be published
j .
! ET Tt is estimated that during the last two years,
| sixtv-four thousand and fifty housps, collectively two’
hundred miles in length, have been built in London,’
i Great Britain. - ,
OCT Th erp will not be a total eclipse of the
sun in any part of America until the 7th of Au
gust, 1360—twenty years.