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The Blazzyg;
Or, The Ofice-Molder who “Maintains his So
cial position.”
BV JOHN SMITH, THE YOUNGER.
Now wont wc astonish the Browns ? — Song.
“I’m very much surprised, Mr. Johnson, nay
sir, I’m quite indignant at your conduct last
evening,” said a very pompous looking gen
tleman —extremely red in the face, and with
a high Mack stock buckled so tight around
his neck as to excite serious apprehensions in
the minds of the bystanders —at the same time
frowning intensely upon the young man to
whom he addressed himself.
“Why, Mr. Blazzy, I am utterly at a loss to
know” the young man attempted in an
apologetic tone to reply.
“No excuse, sir. There can be no pallia
tion. The young ladies consider themselves
grossly insulted, and Mrs. Blazzy’s feelings
have received a shock from which they will
not soon recover. Your own position in so
ciety, our social position, Mr. Johnson, might
have.”
“M ill you be so good sir, as to inform me
at once of the offence which I have commit
ted? I really do not understand you,” said the
young man, becoming warm in his turn.
“My feelings as a father, sir, have been
rudely and wantonly assailed,” continued the
elderly gentleman with still greater vehe
mence, “and I have only to say that my fam
ily can no longer receive visits from one who
appears to have formed such a mistaken idea
of their social position.”
“Mr. Blazzy, I must insist on an explana
tion. I must know the cause of this very
extraordinary announcement?” And the
speaker quietly folded his arms, and awaited
the reply of the other.
“Well then, sir, since 3 011 appear so ingen
uously ignorant of your gratuitous assault up
on the feelings of a family from whom you
have always received the most friendly and
conrteous consideration—a family, sir, occu
pying asocial position—l must recall to your
memory, which is so singularly defective this
morning, the incident'of your late visit. You
were accompainad by an individual, whom
you introduced as one of your most intimate
friends.”
“I was indeed accompanied by a friend,”
said the young man, “and one every way
worthy of my regard—an honest man, and”
“A mechanic!” interrupted the red-faced
personage, in a tone of derision. “Yes, a
mechanic! Now sir, I’d hare you to know
that the Misses Blazzy are not fitted, either by
education, social position, or innate sense of
propriety, to enjoy the society of mechanics
and their very particular friends.”
‘Hie pompous gentleman here wheeled sud
denly round, and walked off with an air of
ir.finate dignity, whilst the young lawyer—
for Johnson had recently been admitted to
the bar—looked after him with mingled sur
prise and good honor, but at length giving
way to tlie latter feeling, threw himself into
a chair, and gave way to a fit of loud and un
controllable laughter.
Now, Mr. George Washington Blazzy re
garded himself as a democrat of the very first
water. An expression of the slightest doubt
of his claim to the title w ould have been con
strued a mortal affront. His devotion to the
“party” indeed, had lately been rewarded by
a clerkship of a thousand dollars a year, and
as we have just seen, he was most resolutely
determined to maintain the dignity of his dis
tinguished official station. A Democrat in
office and a Democrat in want of one—Blaz
zy the baker in Fayetteville; and Blazzy the
office-holder in Washington—are very differ
ent beings. So, congratulating himself on
the success with which he had rebuked the
unpardonable misconduct of the young law
yer, Blazzy strode along the avenue, looking
as important as if the whole burden of the
Fedaral Government rested on his shoulders.
Having reached the Treasury buildings, Mr.
Blazzy prepared himself for the arduous la
bors of the day. That is to say, Mr. Blazzy
dawdled for an hour over the newspapers;
yawned; lighted a cigar; opened five or six
letters; yawned; read the letters; filed them;
yawned; stepped out for a “drink,” copied
three pages of an ‘official document—one
o’clock; another “drink/, purchased three
cents worth of pea-nuts from the old ap
ple-woman on the first landing; asked credit
till tomorrow; obtained it; returned to his desk;
yawned—two o’clock; threw the shelos of
the pea-nuts out of the w indow, yawned—
half past two o’clock; took down his hat and
coat, brushed them; locked up his desk; yawn
ed—five minutes to three; put on his coat and
hat, walked homeward to dinner, recollected
that the butcher refused him longer credit
than morning, so stepped at Fuller’s and took
a “drink,” with the “Colonel.”
Meanwhile Mrs. and the Misses Blazzy
were in a state of delightful excitement. It
•was the anniversary of the day’ w hich wit
nessed the advent of the charming Miss Ly
dia into tlie world, and her doting mamma
had consented to honor it by giving what she
called a “sworry rechercy.”
“So this is what you call coming home
early to assist me?” exclaimed Mrs. Blazzy,
in a sharp snappish tone, as her cara sposa
made his appearance about five o’clock in the
afternoon.
“I assure you, my dear,” said Blazzy, in
he meekest possible key, “I have made every
possible effort to comply with your wishes.
1 have invited”
“M ho, who have you invited to my “swor
ry ? M ell, I declare? Some more of your
mechanics, I suppose?” And the offended
lady tossed her head which was adorned by
s indry twisted fragments of the “National In
telligencer,” w ith an air of superlative dis
dain.
“Madam, I’d have you to know,” return
ed tlie important official, “that I have taken
proper measures for the rebuke of that as
sault on the social position of my family, and
as for your taunt it is altogether inapplicable
to me,” and Blazzy threw himself doggedly
into the chair.
“Oh, its all very well for you to talk about
our social position, Mr. B.” retorted the lady:
I should like to know how yon could ever
have introduced your daughters into the re
fined circles of polished society. I fancy,
Mr. B. that my opportunities—my connec
tions, Mr. B.—mv acquaintance with the forms
and usages of the bon mots, Mu, B. have not
been lost here in M'ashington.”
To this impassioned appeal what could the
crest fallen Blazzy reply? He had not a word
to say, and wisely retreated, leaving his am
iable partner in sole possession of the field.
At half-past seven, Mrs. and the Misses
Blazzy were all in full dress, and ready to
receive the “bor mots.” Blazzy was still in
the basement, very busy compounding the
punch, which he kept constantly tasting, only
however, to find it grew still more and more
difficult to give tlie fluid the precise degree of
sweetnes* and strength. Now it was too
weik—now it was too strong —now another
lemon would be a decided improvement, so
exceedingly hard is it to suit the delicate taste
of connoiscurs in “the ardent.”
*Well now, I do hope the Flipkinses will
come!” soliloquized Msr. Blazzy, as she slowly ;
rocked herself in the chair, keeping her head j
turned towards the fractured mirror, which j
had been got—such a bargin!-—at Gen. Van
Dozen's sale, “it. would be such a triumph
over those hateful creatures, the Stubbses !
And then young Shat, the nephew, promised
to come; there might be a worse match for
Lydia, though his family is rather pleblain!
And this is her nineteenth birth-day! M ell,
after all”—and here Mrs. Blazzy rose and 1
stood silently regarding herself in the mir
ror.
The survey, of course, seemed to afford her
a great deal of satisfaction. And, indeed the
Lady was not wanting in the highly* respecta
ble remains of personal charms which twenty
years ago gave her an undoubted title to rank
as one of the belles of the city of Baltimore —
famed all the world over for the beauty of its
daughters. Her face, it is true, had lost the
pleasant air of girlhood, and now wore the
hackneyed expression of the vulgar woman
of the world; but her figure was tall, finely
proportioned, and terminated in a really very
small foot and ankle, on which her eye was
rested with evident pride, as she exposed them j
more fully to view by raising the skirt of her j
dress.
“Yes,” she murmured, “there’s the foot |
and ankle that once broke men’s hearts!”
“My goodness gracious! mamma!” abrupt
ly exclaimed Miss Lydia—a pale, gawky girl,
with wild, staring eye, and dress cut low in
I the neck—as she had unceremoniously step
ped before her maternal parent, and busied j
herself in giving additional grace to the tiny
lock which had been trained to repose on
each cheek immediately in front of the ear,
by means of twisting with the forefinger and
i thumb, moistened in the fair creature’s mouth j
I —“goodness gracious! you don’t mean to i
j wear that hateful turban to-night?”
- 1
“Why, my dear, it is the exact pattern of
j that which Mrs. General Dull'wears at the
i levees!”
“Well, mamma, you are so queer!” replied 1
her affectionate daughter, “at your age—”
“Go down to the basement, Miss, and see
what that man’s about,” broke in the insulted
I matron, with unconcealed peevishness; “tell
him to come up instantly. I expect the com
pany every minute.”
“Papa! ma tells you to come up here in- j
stantly!” shouted Miss Lydia from the door :
of the parlor; “she expects the company eve
ry minute!” she added, at the top of her voice,
but instantly explaimed, in soft, die-away 7
notes, “Oh! oh! gracious me! ma!” at the same
time suddenly retreating into the parlor.
“What’s the matter, Miss?” asked Mrs.
Blazzy.
“Oh ! ma .there’s Mr. Swaim out in tlie hall
and ho must have heared me!”
Before Mrs. Blazzy could make any reply-,
the young gentleman, whose unexpected ap
pearance had so agitated Miss Lydia, glided
rather than walk into the room. Mr. Swaim
was a clerk in the Post-office department, and,
as he was connected with “one of the first
families in Virginia,” his society was much
sought after by elderly ladies of such aristo
cratic ideas as Miss Lydia’s affectionate
mother. Swaim was tall and cadaverous, but
Mrs. Blazzy pronounced his form to be the
very pink of gentility. His eyes were very
dark and very glassy; and as nature had been
rather niggardly in supplying him with hair,
the almost total want of that article on the
brows, and the short, thin, and signed looking
eye-lashes, gave to the gentleman’s optics a
strangely uncouth expression. The outline of
Swaim’s face closely approached a right angle,
and as his chin was adorned by some half
dozen long bristling hairs, whilst his scanty
locks were parted in the middle, and being
brushed stifly over each temple, so as to stand
out like a pair of miniature horns, the whole
contour of his visage reminded one of a charge
of pikes in the great Irish rebellion. Swiam
was dressed with elaborate care. The tie of
his white neckcloth had cost him a couple of
hours. He wore deep frills edged with lace
on his wrists; and his vest, richly embroider
ed, had been imported, at the cost of a w hole
week’s salary, directly from Paris, in which
city, it seemed, he had once resided for a few’
months, as attache of the legation—a cir
cumstance adding immensely to his import
ance, and, of course, never lost sight of by
him.
“My dear Madam Blazzy,” lisped Swaim, in
a very soft, bland manner—Swaim wasalways
so soft and bland—at tlie same time making
a profound obeisance, according to the “la
test advices of Signor Carusi, “I hope I have
the honor of finding you in the enjoyment of
your usual good health. What a charming
saloon! M r hen in Paris—but pardon me.
Miss Lydia, I believe?”
“Yes, Mr. Swaim. Lydia, my dear,.will
you entertain Mr. Swaim whilst I see what has
become of poor Blazzy? The cares of office,
you know, Air. Swaim! Blazzy is kept very bu
sy just now; will you excuse mo Mr. Swaim?”
and she swept w ith infimite dignity out of the
room, leaving Swaim to retail in the ears of
Miss Lydia his newest stock of elegant phras
es, culled from the last novel, illustrative of
fashionable life in the “Parisian circles.”
Blazzy had at length compounded the
punch to his liking and was in no humor to
submit, with his usual meekness, to the snap
pish reproofs of his spouse; so that the shrill
upper notes of the matrimonial duet were dis
tinctly heard issuing from the basement, (as
the subterranean theatre of all sorts of myste
rious domestic operations is called,) when
quite a numerous group of the guests made
their appearance, and were ushered into the j
parlor by the servant in livery, got up by Mrs. j
Blazzy expressly for the occasion, and con- I
sisting of one of Blazzy’s old coats, with red !
flannel colar and cuffs, and an amazing pro
fusion of enormous brass buttons. The Hon.
Mr. Whipple appeared to be the lion of his
newly arrived party. He was about forty
years of age, a house-painter in one of the
! northern cities, had just been returned to Con
gress, and regarded himself as a perfect lady
killer. He was a tall, lank personage, with
a small, cunning gray eye, an awful aquiline
nose, and a mouth which certainly could not
have been made any larger, unless his ears,
which stood out provokingly like the han
dles of a tureen, had been placed farther back
on his head. A perpetual smirk presided on
the features of Whipple, and assured you that
their was the handsomest man in creation—
in his own estimation, that is. Whipple,
since his return to Congress, had been a hard
student of Webster, the spelling-book man,
and every sentence gave you proof of his
progress in the science of w’ords. As he
walked into the room, a lady hung fondly on ;
each arm, and evidently lo oked their grati
tude for the distinguished honor of the Con
gressman’s gallant attentions. Whipple was
in an ecstacy..
“Mydear Mrs. Grabb,” said he, affection
ately leering on one of the ladies, a fat little
woman with golden locks and a bew itching
strabismus, “there is such an exhuberant in
fluence in the presence of lovely woman!”
“Oh! Mr. Whipple, you are so compli
mentary,” lisped the lady, affecting to blush.
“Really,” continued the gallant Whipple,
“if we were not occasionally permitted to re
fresh ourselves in the embalming air relevant j
of feminine sweetness, we could hardly sus- |
tain the excessive labors of our legislative en
actments.”
“You must indeed find the house very fa- 1
tiguing,” w-as timely suggested, in rather a
marked Scottish accent, by- the other lady— j
a lank lady spinster of thirty, with a tartan 1
scarf on her shoulders, and who seemed over
come with the happiness of leaning on a real
Congressman’s arm.
“Quite so, quite so, I assure you, my dear
Miss McCorkeydale.” Whipple replied, with
a sigh, “but you know we must be prepared to
serve our beloved country with a sell-sacri
ficing devotion.”
Mrs. Blazzy was profuse in her expressions
of delight in being favored with the Hon. Mr.
Whipple at her “sworry rechetcy.”
“Now, I do hope,” said she, w ith one ofher
blandest smiles, “you will make yourself at
home. Ido not know what we should have
done without you. Lydia was very much
afraid that, after the fatigue of speaking—oh!
such a speech, she says, she never listened to
in her life! The ladies in the gallery were
1 quite magnetized, Mr. W hippie—indeed they j
1 w ere, Mr. Whipple; and I do hope you will .
! make yourself at home. Lydia, my dear, |
; fetch your album; I am sure Mr. Whipple will
not refuse. And how do you do, my dear
Mrs. Grabb? What a beautiful silk that is!
AtClagget’s! Miss McCorkeydale, lam so
happy! Let me get you a partner —such a
nice young man, so very genteel, one ot the
j very first families in Virginia. Miss McCor
keydale allow me to make you acquainted
w ith Mr. Swaim; Mr. Swaim, let me make you
acquainted with Miss McCorkeydayle; there
now-, do you make yourself at home and ex
i cuse me.” And thus she run on from one to
j the other of her guests, who were, now arriv
! ing in great numbers, the room being already
! almost quite full.
The entree of Flipkinses, whose appear
ance releived poor Mrs. Blazzy of a load of un
i easiness, created quite a sensation. Flipkins
had a salary of no less than two thousand
dollars a year, and his w ife’s father was one
of the greatesofthe great Southern planters.
He was a heavy-faced, coarse-looking man of
about fifty, w ith small twinkling eyes, nearly
hidden by shaggy brows, of a bright redish
hue. Airs. Flipkins was tall and thin. Her
i chin, which was braced by a w-art of most ar
istocratic proportions, was very receding and
seemed modestly bent on retreating quite
down into her neck, evincing a serious misun
derstanding with the nose, which threw itself
boldly forward with a considerably aspiring
expression. She was dressed in full ball-room
costume, with a gauzo shawl thrown negli
gently over her angular shoulders; and in her
arms she carried a little pet dog, on which she
lavished continually caresses. The daughters
three, thin, sallow girls, not yet out of their
teens, had graduated with the highest honors
at Rutger’s Female Institute, “talked French
like a book,” so said their cousin Mr. Zeru
babel Shad, and every season they introduc
ed at St John’s the latest fashions from Paris.
No wonder, then, that, as they w-ere intro
duced, there was an instant cessation of the
loud hum of conversation in Mrs. Blazzy’s
crowded “saloon,” as Mr. Sw-aim per
sisted in styling the rooms. Flipkins pushed
his w-ay through the crowd with the haughty
bearing which an office of two thousand dol
lars a year is justified in assuming amongst a
parcel of inferior clerkships, varying from five
hundred to twelve hundred and fifty, not to
speak of his matrimonial connection with the
great southern planter. The Misses Flipkins
jabbered togother in boarding school French,
but really considered themselves as beings of
another sphere, who had graciously conde
scended to mingle with an inferior creation
for one night only, by particular request; they
looked exceedingly amiable and forgiving,
even smiling on Mrs. Blazzy, and exchanging
with Lydia several remarks on the state of
the weather.
The hostess, perfectly delighted with the
unusual brilliance of her “sw orry rechercy,”
fawned on the Flipkinses with ludicrous assi
duity, but Blazzy himself, invigorated by his
labors in the basement, felt more than ever
disposed “to maintain his social position,”
and w-as not at all pleased with the excessive
homage which his brother official received.
, “In a country of equal rights, Root,” said
he to a grim looking old fellow in a bottle
green coat, closely buttoned up to the chin,
with whom he had been conversing on the
prospects of the next Presidency when Flip
kins entered the room—“in a country like
ours of equal rights and privileges,- it is rather
disgusting to see men assuming such airs of
superiority as that Flipkins does.”
“It is contrary to the immutable principles
of eternal justice,” said Root, w ith great em
phasis.
“But he has managed to stick so long in
his office that he thinks he may lord it over
us all. You know how he bamboozled Ty
ler?” Blazzy inquired.
“Tyler was but the selvage of a man, and
hanging would have been too good for him,
according to the immutable principles of eter
nal justice,” remarked the other vehemently,
squirting a mouthful of tobacco juice in the
direction of the fire-place, but missing his
mark, the discharge fell on the skirts of the
Congressman Whipple.
“I consider Flipkins anything but a true
democrat,” continued Blazzy, with increasing
warmth.
“He’s a proud, overbearing, treacherous
aristocrat,” said Root, “according to the im
mutable principles—”
! “I wont stand it,” said Blazzy, rather talk
j ing to himself than his companion: I wont
| stand it; but come, Root, let’s go down to the
basement and take a private drink.”
“Agreed,” said Root, “let me tell you that
according to the immutable”—and the speak
er hastened after his host, who led the way to
the basement.
In the meantime the rooms had become
quite crowded, and Mrs. Blazzy declared her
self as happy as if she were the President’s
lady. Her triumph was complete. Even
Mr. Zerubabel Shad had gladdened her soul
by his presence. Mr. Charles Augustus Too
ley, a great literary genius who had several
exciting novels “iu the press,” illustrative of
men and measures in the highly refined and
fashionable circles of the Federal City-, and
Mr. Josua Doughhead, the celebrated lyric
poet, whose effusions frequently graced the
columns of the Washington newspapers.
The elder Miss Flipkins now actually con
descended to seat herself at the piano, and
Mrs. Blazzy- bustled through the crowd en
treating her guests to be all attention to Aliss
Flipkins song. Running her fingers over the
instrument, kindly loaned for the occasion
by- Mrs. Colonel Flatcatcher, and informing
the company that it was shockingly out of
tune, the young lady threw her eyes forward
to the ceiling, and in a shrill, reedy voice, fa
vored her auditors with one of General George
P. Morris outpouringsofpassionate sentiment:
“ I never have been false to thee,
The heart I gave thee still is thine:
Though it has been untrue to me,
And I no more may call thee mine;
Thy words which flow unheeded now
Could once my heart-strings madly thrill ’
Love’s golden chain and burning vow
Are broken, but I love thee stfll! ”
“Bravo” —bravo!”—“Delightful!”■—“How-
beautiful ‘.’’—“Sweet!”—“What pretty- words!’
—“What a lovely voice!” and such excla
mations were heard throughout the rooms.
Whipple was leaning gracefully on the piano,
and expressed his delight by placing his
hand upon his heart, and looking unuttera- j
ble things at Miss Flipkins, as she cast her :
eyes downward, and heaved an audible sigh: ;
Mrs. Grabb and a half dozen ot the ladies 1
were hanging on the skirts of the Congress- j
man in mute admiration, and Swaim stood .
immediately behind the young lady, smiling
most complacently, and gently fanning him
self with his perfumed pocket handkerchief.
“The music is very touching,” said Mr.
Doughhead, the poet.
“Really, when 1 was in Paris”—began Mr.
Swaim.
“Yes, I dare say,” added Doughhead, in
! terrupting him, “but, Miss Flipkins, what do
you think of that staccato movement?”
“Sir!” drawled out the young lady, affect
ing to be quite astounded by the excessive lib
erty which the poetasters had taken.
“Why, I w-as venturing the remark madam, ’ I
! stammered Doughhead, “the staccato mov
i ment—that is, the passages in thirds—indeed
i I might say, perhaps, with due respect to your
i transcendent musical skill, madam, that the
, brilliancy” —
“Precisely !” again exclaimed Swaim, “I
recollect hearing Herz when I was in Paris—”
I “I was about to speak, Madam,” continued
j Doughhead, rather rudely, “of that brilliant
| allegro; your liquid tone, and charming
j quantity—so simple”—
! “Just so!” bi-oke in Swaim, “just so! so
; chaste, when I was in Paris, Miss Flipkins”—
“Did you ever see the poet Morris ?” asked
! the young lady, addressing Mr. Charles Au
j gustus Tooley.
| “Oh! I was quite intimate with him when
j in New York,” replied the precocious youth,
much flattered by the notice of a young lady
so nearly related to one of the very best
Southern families.
“Pray what is he like ?” again inquired the
accomplished Miss Flipkins.
“Oh do tell, Mr. Tooley-!” exclaimed half
a dozen of the other ladies, in one breath.
“He’s tall and thin, unkimmonly genteel—
something about my figure,” said Tooley.
“His hair ?” asked the ladies.
“Beautiful auburn!” said Tooley.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Mrs. Grabb, fond
ling one of her golden ringlets.
“He is somewhat eccentric,” continued
Mr. Tooley. “He always composes in a
beautiful Moorish costume, and his ears are
adorned by beautiful rings of the most unique
workmanship.”
“La me! how very interesting !” exclaim
ed the ladies.
“That reminds me of Artot,” said Swaim,
“I met him in Paris” —
What more the travelled young gentleman
might have said we know not; for at this
instant, Mr. Zerubabel Shad, who was some
what exhiliarated by the punch he had drank
in the course of the evening, roared out, with
stentorian energy, a certain popular melody,
to the unspeakable horror of poor Mrs.
Blazzy, who seemed ready to sink through
the floor. But presently recovering herself,
as Shad was silenced by Air. Charles Augus
tus Tooley, she very dexterously attempted
to turn the attention of the company to Mr.
Josiah Doughhead, by requesting him to fa
vor her with a recitation. The poet immedi
ately complied, and delivered Hamlet’s solil
oquy with such startling effect as to attract
all the rervants from the kitchen and frighten
Mrs. Flipkins’ poor lap dog into alarming
convulsions.
“Oh! my poor dear little Sth-portJ” ex
claimed Mrs. Flipkins, “don’t be s-tho much
frightened! It is only Mr. Doughhead ! Poor
Sth-port!”
“The sympathetic allusions of the inferior
creation,” remarked Mr. Whipple, “are often
very remarkable.”
“How ?” responded the lady, “poor dear,
be sth-till! That’s a good little Sth-port!”
“I was observing my dear madam, that the
feelings”—
“Yelp! yelp! yelp!”
“Oh ! poor Sth-port! Do be sth-till!”
“Yelp! yelp! yelp!”
“Now, ma’am, the puir thing seems vera
sack,” said the tender Aliss Corkeydale, with
great apparent compassion, “wha would hae
thoct that Shaakspeer—but och! there’s that
odious brute has let fly his tobacco juice rieht
on my dress,” and forgetting “dear Sth-port!”
in her ow n frightful calamity, the affectionate
maiden flew up to explain her misfortunes to
poor Mrs. Blazzy.
At this instant Blazzy returned from the
basement, arm-in-arm with the faithful Root,
and fully resolved to administer a rebuke to
the aristocratic hauteur of Flipkins. For
tune favored his design in a manner quite un
expected. Sport, now recovered from the
terrors of Doughhead, was reposing on the
hearth-rug, and Mrs. Flipkins was just reach
ing forward to accept a jon bon and motto,
which Mr. Whipple had that moment unfold
ed, and was presenting her with a very low
bow, and one of the most fascinating smiles,
when Blazzy stumbled forward, and with his
heel almost crushed to a jelly the leg of the
unfortunate animal. The yells of the dog
were terrific ; and the ladies and gentlemen
all instantly rushed to the spot, some of the
former almost frightened to death by fearful
apprehensions of hydrophobia.
“Dear! dear! w-ho could be so clumsy?
the wretch!” exclaimed the three Alisses
Flipkins all in one breath.
“Oh ! Sth-port! Sth-port!” faintly ejacu
lated their mamma, with hysterical sobs.
“I’m really—very—sorry,” Blazzy began
to apologize, and unfortunately lifting the
dog’s leg to asccertsin the extent of the inju
ry, the animal’s shrieks w-ere redoubled.
“O then, sir, it w-as you who insulted my
dog, my wife, I mean sir ?” exclaimed Flip
kins, in a haughty-, imperious tone.
“What, the old tabby ?” returned Blazzy, 1
laughing, and trying to turn the matter off
with a joke.
“Good gracious! did you ever!” exclaimed !
the Misses Flipkins.
“Sir, if it were not in your house,” thun- ;
dered Flipkins, almost chocked with rage.
“Keep cool, Flipkins!” said Blazzy, w ith
astonishing calmness.
“I do think, according to the immutable
principles—of—eternal—justice”—hiccupped !
Root—that is—equality—honor”
“Silence, you fool” shouted Flipkins, inter- 1
rupting him, and then turning fiercely to Blazzy, j
he continued, “you are alow-bred scoundrel, |
sir—thus grossly- to insult a lady, connected
with one of the first Southern families, and the j
mother of three beauteous daughters, and an ■
only son, who died in infancy—and as I said,
sir, if it were not in your own house, I would”
“Oh rot you and your Southern family
I defy you!” retorted the other.
“Good!” shouted Root—“according to
the immutable principles”
‘“Now, this is too much!” exclaimed Hip
kins, his face grown quite livid with passion, I:
and-aiming a blow with his fist at the imper- j
turbable Blazzy-. Ii
“Oh! oh! for mercy’s sake!” screamed
poor Mrs. Blazzy, wringing her hands with an
agony. _
“Mr. Whipple! Mr. Whipple! can’t you do
something?” screamed the rest of the ladies,
in full chorus.
“Oh! do—do!” re-echoed Mrs. Blazzy, in
a voice of utter despair.
“Certainly, certainly,” said Whipple, ad
vancing towards the two distinguished offi
cials, who now stood fairly facing each oth
er in a menacing attitude. But the gallant
and peace-loving Whipple only hastened the
catastrophe he wished to prevent, for Mr.
Zerubabel Shad had amused himself with pin
ning the voluminous skirts of Mrs. Grabb to
the coat-tails of Whipple, and as he rushed
forward to separate the combatants, the con
nection was broken with such abrupt violence,
that the Congressman lost his balance, and
striking headforemost against the vengeful
Flipkins, drove that personage upon his an
tagonist, who, staggered by the concussion,
fell in his tarn against the mantle piece, over
turning the lamp, but recovering himself in
time to bestow a stunning blow on the visage
of Flipkins.
The scene which now followed baffles de
scription. The ladies shrieked and fainted;
the men shouted; the mirror was smashed
into atoms; crash went the tables and chairs;
the lights were extinguished, till finally the
whole neighborhood, being aroused by the
tumult, rushed into the house, carried out the
ladies, and effectually separated the numerous
combatants, for the row had become quite
general; poor Swaim, the only inactive spec
tator, maintaining a strictly neutral position,
underneath the piano, from which he was
dragged in a fainting condition.
Such was the winding up of .Mrs. Blazzy’s
great “sworry reehercy”—such the finale of
her respectable husband’s persevering efforts
that day to “maintain his social position!”
THE LAUGHING HERO.
AN INCIDENT OF THE MASACRE AT GOLIAD.
It was the morning of the 17th of March,
1836. Aurora, mother of the dews and mis
tress of the mansion of golden clouds, came,
as she almost ever comes to the living green
ery of the plains of Goliad—a thing of beau
ty, queen of the sky, on a throne of the burn
ing amber, robed in the crimson of fire, with
a diadem of purple, and steamers of painted
pink. Oh ! it was a glorious dawn for the
poet to sing of earth, or the saint to pray
heaven; but neither poet’s song nor saint’s
prayer made the matins of the place and the
hour. Alas ! no; it was a very different sort
of music.
A century ofhoarse drums roared the loud
reveille that awoke four hundred Texan pris
oners and their guard—four times their num
ber of Mexican soldiers—the elite of the Chief
Butcher’s grand army.
The prisoners were immediately summon
ed to parade before the post, in the main
street of the village; and every eye sparkled
with joy, and every tongue uttered its shout
—the involuntary exclamation of confidence
and hope—“ Thanks, noble Santa Anna! He
is going to execute the treaty! We shall be
shipped back to our beloved United States!
We shall see our dear friends once more !”*
Such were the cheerful cries with which the
American volunteers, and the few Texans
among them, greeted the order to form into
line.
The line was formed and then broken into
two columns, when every instrument of music
in the Mexican host sounded a merry march,
and they moved away with a quick step over
the prairie to the west.
Five minutes afterwards, a singular dia
logue occured betwixt the two leaders of the
front column of prisoners—
“ What makes you walk so lame, Col. Neil?
Aro you wounded?” asked a tall, handsome
man, with blue eyes, and bravery flashing
forth in all their beams.
“Col. Fannin, I walk lame to keep from
being wounded ; do you comprehend ?” re
plied the other, with a laugh, and such a
laugh as no words might describe—it was so
loud, so luxurious, like the roar of the breakers
of a sea of humor; it was, in short, a laugh
of the inmost heart.
“I do not comprehend you, for I am no ar
tist in riddles,” rejoined Fannin, smiling him
self at the ludicrous gayety of his companion
so strangely ill-timed.
“You discover that I am lame in each leg,”
said Col. Neil, glancing down at the mem
bers indicated, and mimicing the movements
of a confirmed cripple, as he laughed louder
than ever. “And yet,” he added, in a whis
per, “I have neither the rheumatism in my
knees, nor corns on my toes, but I have two
big revolvers in my boots!”
“That is a violation of the treaty, by which
we agreed to deliver up all our arms,” Col.
Fannin mournfully suggested.
“Y ou will see, however, that, I shall need
them before the sun is an hour high,” replied
Neil. “Ah! Fannin, you do not know the !
treachery of these base Mexicans.”
At the same instant the sun arose in a sky
of extraordinary brilliancy, and a million
flower-cups flung their rich ordors abroad
over the green prairie, as an offering to the
lord of light, when the mandate “to halt” was
given by one of Santa Anna’s aids, and the
two columns of prisoners were broken up and
scattered over the plain, in small squares, en
circled on every side by Mexican infantry and
troops of horse, with loaded muskets and na
ked swords! And then came a momentary
pause, awful in its stillness, and, disturbed on
ly by an occasional shriek of terror, as the
most timid among the captives realized the
impending storm and extinction of life’s last
hope.
And then the infernal work of wholesale
murder was begun, and a scene ensued such
as scarcely might be matched in the very an
nals of hell itself. The roar of musketry
burst in successive peals like appalling claps
of thunder, but could not utterly drown the
prayers of the living, the screams of the
wounded, and more terrible groans of the dy
ing !
Col. Fannin fell among the first victims,
but not so tho giant Neil. \\ ith the order of
j the Mexican officer for his men to tire, our
| hero stooped almost to the earth, so that the
: volley passed entirely over him. He waited
not for a seconfl; thurstinga hand into the
leg of each boot, he arose with a couple of
six-shooters, the deadly revolvers of Allen’s
patent, and commenced discharging them,
with the quick rapidity of lightning, into the
thickest ranks of his foes, his immense
strength enabling him to pull off the triggers
together.
Panic-stricken with surprise and fear, the
Mexicans recoiled and opened a passage,
through which Neil bounded, with the spring
of a panther, and tied away, as if wings were
tied to his heels, while half a dozen horsemen
gave chase. For a while it seemed doubtful
whether the giant colonel would not distance
even these, so much had the perils of the oc
casion increased the natural elasticity of his
mighty muscles. But presently a charger
fleeter than the rest might be discerned gain
ing on his human rival, and approaching so j
near that the dragoon raised his flashing sabre
for the coup de grace. Neil became con
scious of his danger, and hastily slackened
his speed, till the hot stream of smoke from
the horse’s nostrils appeared to mingle with
his very hair; and then, wheeling suddenly,
he fired another round from a revolver, and
the rider tumbled from his saddle. The vic
tim then renewed his flight.
A mad yell ot grief and rage broke from
the remaining troopers as they witnessed the
fate of their comrade, and its effect was im
mediately evident in the augmented caution
of their pursuit—for they galloped afterwards
in one body, thereby greatly retarding their
progress, so that Neil reached the river be
fore them. He paused not a moment, but
plunged headlong into the current, and struck
off for the other shore. The dragoons dis
charged their side-arms ineffectually, and
gave over the chase!
In a few minutes Neil landed, and as soon
as he felt satisfied that he was really saved,
burst into an insuppressible convulsion of
laughter, exclaiming, “it will kill me! Just to
think how astonished the yellow devils look
ed when I hauled the revolvers out of my
boots!”
Such was Col. John Neil—possessing a
fund of humor that no misfortune could ever
exhaust, and a flow of animal spirits which
would have enabled him to dance on the
graves of all his dearest friends, or to have
sung Yankee Doodle at his own execution.
At a much later period of Texan history,
the writer had the happiness to make the gal
lant Colonel’s acquaintance. The first time
I saw him was at the city of Houston, in the
summer of 1845. He was standing on the
ground step of the flight leading up to the
door of “The Star Hotel.” Holding his sides
with both hands, and emitting through his
enormous mouth boisterous explosions, he
seemed literally dying with laughter; his face
turned purple, and the blue veins on his fore
head swelled out thick as a man’s thumb while
his eyes gleaming with savage mirth remain
ed fixed on a form in the porch above him.—
The latter was lawyer Seth Allen, a gentle
man with the tall meagre figure of a barber’s
pole, a huge mustache, and great profusion of
rutiles, lie had fought a duel, mortal to his
antagonist, the previous day, and was just
then relating to a circle of wondering loafers
the history of his prowess. The contrast be
tween his skeleton figure, foppish dress, and
narrated exploits, had struck Neil as tran
scendently ludicrous; and hence his sudden
and ungovernable merriment.
“M hat are you laughing at, fellow?” Allen
demanded sternly, as he measured our Fal
staff with his eye.
“At you,” followed by another sonorous
peal, was the answer.
“111 teach 3ou how to make sport of*gen
tlenu n!” shouted Allen, frenzied with rage,
as he flew down the steps and aimed a furious
kick full at the other’s face.
Neil caught the foot in his right hand, and
then stooping, suddenly thurst his head be
tween Allen’s legs, and fairly raised him on
his neck. In that rediculous position he
trotted with the famous duelist several* times
around the yard, as a strong man might trot
. with a child, laughing noisily like an idiot,
while Allen vociferated for his pistols! Neil
then walked off leisurely some fifty paces, and
tossed his burden into a mud-hole, with a roar
that was re-echoed by the spectators.
An immediate challenge was the result.—
Col. Neil accepted, chose rifles of the largest
size, and fixed the distance at a hundred
yards.
“I will only wing him, said the laughing
hero, as he took his stand; he’s too poor
to make good bacon !” At the first fire lie
broke the other’s arm, and so the affair
ended. *
A mere running reference to the remaining
facts of or singular biography must close
this sketch.
Col. Neil was born and brought up in a
pine tent on the banks of the Cumberland
river, in Tennessee. At the age of fifteen he
ran away to the wilderness of Texas. He
there adopted the profession of arms, which
he never more relinquished. He has been
captain of rangers, a colonel of militia, guard
man to Mexican traders, and a general thief
catcher for the sheriffs of many counties; and
yet all his life has been one long, merry laugh
it ever man had, lor a braver, warmer, more
generous heart, never heat a human bosom.
He deserves to realize his favorite wish, “to
die laughing.”
Y ery Explicit. —A Yankee riding up to
a Dutchman, exclaimed—“ Well, stranger,
for acquaintance sake, what might be vour
name ?”
“Vy, my name ish Haunce Hollenbeffen
heffengraensteinerburg!” “Cape Cod! If that
ain’t as long as a pumpkin vine! Well, I
hain’t no time to lose, I’m on a speculation!
Tell me the way to Harrisburg.”
“To Harrisburg ? Veil, you see dat roat
pon de hill ?” pointing in the direction.
“Oh, yes, I see it.”
“Vel, den, you must not take dat roat.
You see dat roat by the coalbank ?”
“Yes.”
“Vel, dat i3 not the roat, too; put you
must go right py te parn dere, and ven you
see von roat crooks just so (bending his el
bow and describing it at the same time,) an
ven you kit dere keep along till you gets for
dar. V ell den, you vill turn de potatoe patch
round de bridge over de river up stream and
te hill up, and tireetly you see my prodder
Fritz’s parn, shinkled mit straw, datste house
ver mine prodder lives. He’ll dell you so pet
ter as I can, and you go a little bit furder, you
see two roats—you must not take both of
em.”
The Yankee rode off at the top of his
speed.
A Thought. —The boat of a whaler was
once knocked several feet in the air by a
blow from the tail of a fish to which it was
fast. Upon coming down, the steersman fell
into the whale’s mouth, and the teeth of the
animal closed upon his leg. After being in
this terrible position for some time, he was
released, picked up by another boat, and car
ried on board, where, while preparations were
making to amputate his crushed limb, he was
asked what he “thought of while’in the
whale’s mouth ?” With the utmost simplicity
he replied, “W hy, I thought she would yield
about six barrels!”
plowing.
This is the most important of the mechani
cal operations ot the farm. The time, the
depth and the manner of plowing must de
pend on the crops to be raised, the fertility
and character of the soil and other circum
stances.
Plowing Clay Lands. —M henever prac
ticable these should be plowed iii the fall for
planting and sowing the ensuing spring. The
tenacity of the soil may thus be temporarilv
broken up by the winter frosts, its particles
more thoroughly separated, and the whole
mass reduced to a finer tilth than can possibly
be effected in any other manner. There is a
still further and important advantage from
this practice which ensues from an attraction
existing between the clay and those gases
that are furnished from the atmosphere, snow,
rains and dews. In consequence of being
thus thrown up and coming in contact with
them, it seizes upon the ammonia and carbon
ic and nitric acids which are in the air, and
holds them for the future use of the crops;
while their great affinity for manures effectu
ally prevents the waste of such as are in it
The furrows of clay soils should be turned
over so as to lap on the preceding and lie at
an angle of 45 deg.: and for this purpose the
depth of the furrow slice should be about two
thirds its width. Thus a furrow 6 inches
deep should be about 9 inches wide, or if 8
inches deep, it should be about 12 inches
wide. This will allow of the furrows lying
regularly and evenly, and in the proper posi
tion for the drainage of the soil, the free cir
culation of air, and the most efficient action
of frosts which in this way have access to
every side of them. Land thus thrown up is
found to be finely pulverized after the frosts
leave it, and it is comparatively dry and ready
for use some time earlier than such as is not
plowed till spring. For sowing, land plowed
in this manner requires no additional plowing
but it is better fitted for the reception of seed
than it can be by any other operation, except
by a slight harrowing if too rough. The dif
ferent kinds of grain or peas may bo dibbled
in or sown directly upon the surface and eov--
ered by the harrow, and if sown very early
the grass and clover seed require no covering,-
but find their best position in the slight de
pressions which are every where made by the
frost, and which the subsequent rains and
winds fill up and cover sufficiently to secure
a certain growth. When a field is intended
for planting and is thus plowed in the preced
ing autumn, in some instances, and especial
ly when the soil is full of vegetable manures,
as from a rich green sward, a single furrow
where the seed is to be dropped, is all that is
necessary to be plowed in the spring.
If the land has been previously
(not in sward,) and is designed for planting,
stiff clay is sometimes ridged up by turning a
double furrow, one on each side and so close
as partially to lap upon a narrow and unbro
ken surface, thus leaving the greatest eleva
tions and depressions which can conveniently
be made with the plow. The frost and air
by this means, have a greater surface to act
upon than is afforded by thorough plowing
unless it boa firm sod, which maintains its
position without crumbling. The advantage
of a dry surface and early w'orking are equal
ly secured by this latter method; and to pre
pare for planting, the furrows need only to
be split by running a plow through the cen
tre, when they are ready for the reception of
the seed.
Plowing Sandy or Dry Soils. —These
require flat plowing, which may be dona
when they are either quite wet or dry, but
never till wanted for use. By exposure to
to heat, rains and atmospheric influencies the
light soluble manures are exhaled or washed
out, and they receive little compensation for
this waste in any corresponding fertility they
derive from the atmosphere in return. To
insure flat plow ing on an old sward, the depth
of the furrow should be about one half its
width, and the land or ridges as wide as can
conveniently be made, so as to preserve as
much uniformity of surface over the whole
field as possible.
Depth of Plowing. —All cultivated plants
are benefited by a deep permeable soil, through
which their roots can penetrate in search of
food ; and although depth of soil is not fully
equivalent to its superficial extension, it is ev
ident that there must be a great’ increase of
product from this cause. For general tillage
crops the depth of soil may be gradually aug
mented to about 12 inches, with decided ad
vantage. Such as are appropriated to gar
dens and horticultural purposes may be deep
ened to 15 or even 18 inches to the manifest
profit of their occupants. But whatever is
the depth of the soil, the plow ought to turn
up the entire mass, if within its reaeh, and
w hat is beyond it should be thoroughly bro
ken up by the subsoil plow, and some of it
occasionally incorporated with that upon the
surface. The subsoil ought not to be brought
out of its bed except in small quantities to be
exposed to the atmosphere during the fall,
winter and spring, or in a summer fallow;
not even then, but with the application of such
fertilizers as are necessary to put it at once
into a productive condition. The depth of
the soil can alone determine the depth of plow
ing : and when that is too shallow, the grad
ual deepning of it should be sought by the uso
of proper materials for improvement till the
object is fully attained. Two indifferent soils
of opposite characters, as of a stiff clay and
sliding sand, sometimes occupy the relation
of surface and subsoil towards each other ;
and when immediately mixed and subjected
to the meliorating influences of cultivation,
they will frequently produce a soil of great
value.
Cross Plowing is seldom necessary ex
cept to break up tough sward or tenacious
soils; and the iormer is more effectually sub
dued by one thorough plowing in which the
sod is so placed that decomposition will rap
idly ensue ; and the latter is more certainly
pulverized by incorporating with it such veg
etables, and long or unfermented manures
and the like, as will take the place of the de
fying sod. The presence of these in the soil,
lessens the labor of cultivation and greatly in
creases the products.
Subsoil Plowing. —This is a practice of
comparatively recent introduction, and it has
been attended with signal benefit from the in
crease and certainty of the crop. It is per
formed by subsoil plows made exclusively for
this purpose. The objects to be accomplish
ed are to loosen the hard earth below the
reach of the ordinary plow- and permit the
ready escape of the water which falls upon
the surface; the circulation of air; and a
more extended range for the roots of the
plants by which they procure additional
nourishment, and secure the crop against
drought by penetrating into the regions of
perpetual moisture. When all the circum
stances are favorable to the use of the subsoil
plow, an increase in the crop of 20, 30 and
even 50 per cent has been attributed to its
operations. Its maximum influence on stifF
soils is reached only where underdraining
has been thoroughly carried out Its benefits
have been more than doubled when used in
*an impervious clay soil, where it makes sur
er room for storing stagnant water; and it
is e\ ldent they can only aggravate the faults
of such subsoils as are naturally too loose and
leachy.— -Gen. Farmer.
To Cure a Ring Woom.— The following
receipt for the cure of ring worms is furnish*
ed by John S. Skinner, Esq., the veteran con
ductor of the “Plough, Loom and Anvil.”—
He says it is infallible:
Heat a shovel to a bright red—cover it
with a few grains of Indian corn—press
them with a cold flat iron. They will burn
to a coal and exude an oil on the surface of
the fiat iron, with w r hich rub the ring worm,
and after one or two more applications it will
be killed as dead as Julius Cecsar.