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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.