Newspaper Page Text
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volume 11. |
BY C. R. HANLEITER.
POET 13Y„
“ Much yet remains unsung.”
From the New Mirror.
THIRTY-FIVE.
• 41 The years of a man's life are tlircercoieanil ten.”
On, weary heart! thou'rt half wav home ‘.
We aland on Life's meridian height—
As far from childhood's morning come
As tn the grave’a forgetful night.
Give Youth and (lope a parting tear —
Look onward with a placid brow—
Ilnpe promised hut to bring us here,
And Reason takes the guidance now—
One backward look—the last—the last!
One silent teat —for You'll is past!
IVho goea with Hope and Passion back 1
Who comes with me and Memory on ?
Oh, lonely looks the downward track—
Joy's music hush'd—Hope’s roses gone !
To Pleasure and her giddy troop
Farewell, without a sigh or tear !
But heart gives way, and spirits droop,
To think that Love may leave us here!
Have we nochartn when Youth is flown—
Midway to death left sad and lone!
Yet stay'.—as'twere a twilightstnr
That sends its thread across the wave,
I see a brightening light, from far.
Steal down a path beyond the grave!
And now—bless God!—its golden line
Comes o'er, and lights my shadowy way,
And shows the dear hand clasp'd in mine !
But list! what those sweet voices say!
The Setter land's in sigh',
And, by its chastening light.
All love from life’s midway is driven
Pave hers whose doped hand will bring thee on to
Ilvavcn! n. r. w.
g[EL[£©T[E® YALE®.
THE WIFE’S STRATAGEM.
An Incident in the Revolution.
*’ U V ANN E. TODD.
Nor trust with ibis for many a passing fray,
Trtuftriifn letmtfaßn a future day.— btinmk.
It is held that valor is the cheapest virtue,
ami most dignifies the hearer ; if it be the
man, I speak, it cannot in the world be singly
counterpoised. — Shakespeare.
’Twas night. The landscape reposed in
tranquil beauty, the silver rays of the moon
revealed each nook and the mossy dell,
while fancy might summon up elfin fairies
from their dreamy home in some flower’s
fragrant cell, to sport beneath the moonlight
of the green sward ; or in sportive play,
bnthc in the dew drops that seemed distill
ing from leaf and flower.
The scenery in the hack ground added
the sublime to the beautiful in the picture.
The mountains tearing their heathercrown
ed tops, which had battled with the storms
of past ages, now canopied with the mantle
of night; their forms in graceful outline,
gradually recedingiuthedistance like frown
ing shadows of the past; wliiie the most
finished work.of man might stand shadow
less beneath the peifect penciling of nature.
The Connecticut river, at a distance, re
sembled a sea of sparkling diamonds re
flecting on its broad bosom the countless
eyes of night, that from the commencement
of time have watched over the sleeping
earth.
Far across might he seen the dim shores
of Long Island, where lay encamped a for
eign foe. The white canvass of their huts
reflecting back the moon’s rays—not a sound
dispels the stilluess, the drowsy seutinels
seems to have caught something of the gen
eral quiet, and are nodding at their posts.
In n tent which seems the principal, a
light burning, round the table are seated
men in earnest conversation, whose uniform
bespeak them British soldiers. The death
of the gallant Major Andre, and the treach
ery of the traitor Arnold, formed the topic
of their discourse. At length it was pro
posed, if carried through with success, to
obtain the person of the gallant General
Silliman, in command of the Connecticut
side, and hold him prisoner in retaliation for
•be death of Andre.
It is a hazardous project, but four bold
men pledged themselves to undertake it.
John Hartwell, a brave young officer, was
selected as their leader.
Soon as arranged, they proceeded to a
boat and made the best progress they could
across the tiver; on gaining the shore they
make fora small clump of underwood, where
they lay concealed until they note what di
rection it is best to take.
Here too may be seen the tents where re
pose the brave men who sworn to protect
their homes and country or die in its defence
against the invaders, who Beek to control
their free rights. Near may be seen a spa
cious fsrm house, the abode of General Sil
liman ; the brave soldier and faithful frjend;
who now slept unconscious of danger.—
Through some neglect, the sentinels on du
ty had wandered from their posts, never
dreaming it possible that any one would risk
a landing, or could pass the tents unobserv
ed. By a circuitous route they gained the
house, aud here the faithful watch dog gave
the alarm, a blow soon silenced him; and
ascending the piazza, Captain Hartwell
opened the casement, and followed by bis
men, stepped lightly into the sittiug room of
the family.
now struck a light, aud with ctu-
& jftttuUs ilrtoGßAprr : Urtotelr to Hitevaturc, Agriculture, ifteeftnuieg, 25ttucat(ou, iForeigw awtr ©omeotlc Intelligence, src.
tion proceeded on their search ; they passed
through several apartments, while, strange
to relate, the inmates slept on, unconscious
of this deed of darkness.
They at length reaped the general’s
room; tw* iClfae men ranpiaad outside,
while Capt. Hartwell, with another officer,
entered, and stood in silence, musing on the
scene before them.
A night lamp burnt in the room, dimly
revealing the face of the sleepers, whose
unprotected situation could not but awaken
a feeling of pity even in their callous heaits.
“Jack,” whispered his companion, “by
Heaven, I wish this pail of the business had
been entrusted to someone else ; 1 could
meet this man face to face, life for life, in the
field of battle ; but this savors too much of
cowardice.”
“Hold your craven tongue, Low,” an
swered Capt. Hartwell, “ perform your part
of the play, or let someone else take your
place; you forget the scrape we are in at
the least alarm. We might happen t<) sa
lute the rising sun, from some of the tallest
trees of the general’s farm; an idea far
from pleasing. ”
“For my part, I could wish myself back
on Long Island ; hut our general expects
every man to do his duty; let yours be to
prevent that female from screaming, while
I secure her husband.”
The ear of woman is quick, and from
tlieir enteriug the room, not a word had es
caped Mrs. Silliman. At first she could
scarcely refrain from calling out, but her
uncommon strength of mind enabled her to
master her fears—she scarce knew what to
think, her husband’s life, herself and family
were at stake, and her courage rose in pro
portion as her sense of danger increased.
It is ever so with woman in the hour of
danger or affliction ; her weakness will be
come her strength, and what nature has
withheld in her physical organization is ful
ly made up in her mental powers ; her de
voted love will hallow the object of its af
fections and enshrines him in her heart’s
pure sanctuary.
She scarce dared breathe, and even the
infant at her breast seemed to partake of its
mother’s auxidy, and nestled closer to her
bosom.
The cuitains partly shading where she
lay, and breathing a prayer to Heaven for
protection, she silently stepped from the
bed, scarcely knowing how to proceed.
Her woman’s tact led her to appeal to
their sympathies, if sympathies they had ;
if she died she hut risked her life for one
dearer than herself, whose existence to his
country was invaluable; and perhaps by
these means enabled him to escape. In an
instant she was before them, her pale be
seeching face imploring what speech refused
to utter.
The officers started ; this sight was unex
pected ; the least hesitation and all would
be lost.
Captain Hartwell threw aside his heavy
watch cloak and 6aid—
“ Madam, let this uniform be the war
rant for our honor; our object is to take
your husband alive, if uossjble—that de
pends however on your silence.”
At that moment General Silliman awoke,
and finding his wife in the hands of men
whose calling he knew not; his good sword
was soon in his hand, hut a strong hand
wrested it from him ; handcuffs were placed
on his wrists, and he stood their prisoner.
He inquired by what right they entered
his house.
“Our object, sir,” replied the officer, “ is
to convey you to Long Island. The least
expression of alarm from you, that moment
you breath your last. If peaceable, no vio
lence will be offered.”
Mrs. Silliman threw herself before them,
and entreaties fur mercy gushed from her
agonized heart.
“ Oh, spare him ! take what money is
here, hut leave me my husband, the father
of my children. Think, if you have wives
or families, what their sense of bereavement
would be to see some murderous hand tear
you from their arms, aud they left in horrid
uucertaiuty to see your fate. Take all that
we have, but leave him.”
A sneer of scorn curled the officer’s lips,
•is be coolly replied
mnJatP, we ar*e neither robbers nor as
sassins. The compliment, on nut p art * 9
quite undeserved. We are British officers.”
“ Then, sir,” exclaimed Mrs. S., starting
to her feet, her eyes flashing, her proud form
trembling as her own wrongs were forgot
in those of her country, “Shame on the
cause that sanctions such a deed as this; in
the silence of night to enter a peaceful
dwelling, and take an unoffending man from
the arms of his wife and family. Truly,
such an act as this would well need the cov
ering of darkness. You may well call your
selves servants of Britain ; that is jour fit
appellation. Take him ; another victim is
required for my country. But the vengeance
of Heaven is abroad; and, are long, the
men who war for the price of blood will
find the arm of him who fights for his fire
side and liberty nerved by the stronger con
sciousness of right.”
“ Madam,” interrupted the officer, awed
by the stern majesty of lier manner, “ I
came not here to interchange words with a
woman, or I might speak about warring
against our lawful king. But yoe know,
Tom,” turning to hia companion, “ I never
was good at preaching.”
” Nor to a woman, certainly,” said Tom,
MADISON, MORGAN COUNTY, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, APRIL 22, 1843.
laughing ; or rather you could never bring
one to your way of thinking.”
A alight noiae warned them of the impro
priety of their longer remaining. The Gen
eral having completely dressed, took an af
fectionate farewell of his wife, assuring her
he would soon be enabled to return. They
left the house; but to gain the shore was a
matter of some difficulty. The Genera)
was rendered incapable of making the slight
est noise if he wished to, and they had tied
Mrs. Silliman, and bound her mouth to pre
vent her giving any alarm. But the tents
were not ao easily passed. The morning
was fast approaching, and the route they
came would occupy too much time to retrace
it; their only plan now was to make as
straight a line as possible to the shore. Al
ready had they passed one tent, when the
cry of “ who goes there 1” was heard. In
a moment they gained the shadow of an ad
joining tent, when a man suddenly stopped
before them and demanded their business.
No time could be lost; the two officers pro
ceeded to tbc boat with the General, while
the remainder’ overpowered the sentinel,
and gained their companion fll me uuhll
was faintly perceptible in the east. By the
time an alarm was given they were far be
yond the reach of pursuit.
Their prisoner was borne in triumph to
their commander, who intended waiting
superior orders as to the disposal of him.
In the meanwhile, Mrs. Silliman was not
idle. A council was called, and every plan
was proposed that could tend to liberate her
husband.
The womanly wit of Mrs. Silliman sug
gested that they should cross the river iu
the same manner as the British bad done,
and seize rite person of one of their influen
tial men, and hold him as an hostage until
terms could be agreed upon for the exchange
of prisoners. It was a risk, and if discov
ered no mercy could be expected.
The nephew of the Genera), a young of
ficer of fome merit, and several others, vol
unteered their services. The following night
was arranged for the purpose.
Thu difficulty, when the time arrived, was
to procure some mode of getting over. A
whale-boat was at length found, into which
the adventurers got, disguised as fishermen.
They soon arrived at Long Island and pro
ceeded to the residence of Judge Jones.
With some difficulty they secured that
worthy functionary, and notwithstanding his
assurance as to being a good patriot, which
they assured him they did not in the least
question,conveyed the good man to the boat,
iu spite of his wish to finish bis sleep out,
and embarked, pleased with their success.
On reaching the house of Mrs. Silliman,
they introduced their prisoner. Mrs. S.
courteously apologised for the necessity they
had been under for requesting his society
without due time for preparation ; assuring
him the house and all in it was at his ser
vice while he honored it as his abode.
The Judge was taken quite at a loss.—
At any time he was a man of few words,
but the sudden transition had quite bewil
dered his faculties. -At times he doubted
whether the good old cogniac, of which be
had taken n plentiful supply before retiring
to rest, had not turned bis head.
He stood in the centre of the apartment,
gazing listlessly around him, until the voice
of Mrs. Silliman, politely inquiring if her
guest stood in need of any refreshment, re
called his fleeting thought. The tempting
repast before him did wonders in restoring
his good humor, his sail having giving him
an appetite, and at any time the lover of
the good things of life, aud knowing argu
ments could produce no alteration in his
fate, he submitted with as much good grace
as possible ; a little ellaviated by the reflec
tion that a woman’s care was not the worst
he could have fallen into. By a singular co
incidence, Mrs. S3, learnt her husband was
an inmate in the house of the Judge, an as
surance every way relieving, having been
placed in his charge until conveyed from
Flatbush.
Letters were soon interchanged, the
Americans refusing to yield their prisoners
without the British doing the same. Terms
were accordingly entered into, and the
Judge prepared to take leave of his fair
hostess at the same time her husband was
taking leave of the Judge’s wife. The Judge
had been highly pleased with the manners
of Mrs. S., who did every thing in her pow
er 1 9 render his stay agreeable.
The two boats tiiih their respective pris
oners at length set sail, and meeting her on
the river, they had an opportunity of con
gratulating each other on the hapny termi
nation of their imprisonment, whten, thanks
to woman's wit, so fertile in expedients, had
saved them from what might have been
a tragedy. With assurances of friendship
they parted, the wires soon having the plea
sure of embracing their husbands. Subse
quently letters couched in terms of the warm
est gratitude were exchanged between the
two ladies, for the attention paid to their re
spective husbands.
Thus a good man was restored to his fam
ily, and a gallant soldier spared to fight the
battles of bis country, while be lived to hear
the shout of liberty re-echo from north to
south, from east to west, and the fierce in
vaders expelled from bis country, which look
place among the nations of th* earth.
To communicate his knowledge is a duty
with the wise man ; to learn from others is ,
his highest gratification.
HOljsE OF REFORMATION IN
HOLLAND.
There are, in most of the large cities of
Holland, one or more institutions thus call
ed, the object of which is to confine and re
strain any person, male or female, whose
conduct is marked by ruinous extravagance;
add many families have been preserved
fr*m total ruin by their salutary operation.
‘They are placed under the immediate
superintendence of the magistracy; and
srif-h obstacles are opposed to their abuse,
shit it is not possible to place any individ
ual in one of those houses, without showing
ample cause for the coercion.
Mynheer Van Der , who, in 1796,
livjrd in high style on the Keizer Gragt, in
Amsterdam, had a very modest wife, who
dressed most extravagantly, played high,
gave expensive routs, and showed every
disposition to help off with money quite as
fast as her husband ever gained it. She
was young, handsome, vain and giddy, and
completely the slave of fashiun.
Her husband had not the politeness to
allow himscU to be ruined by her unfeeling
toffy and dissipation; lie cowpluined of her
conduct to her parents and nearest relations,
whose advice was of no more avail than his
own; next, he had resource to a respecta
ble minister of the Lutheran church, who
might as well have preached to the dead.
It was in vain to deny her money, for no
tradesman would refuse to credit the elegant
—the fascinating wife of the rich Van
Der——.
Involved as the young lady was in the
vortex of fashionable dissipation, she had
not yet ruined her health or reputation; and
her husband, by the advice of his friend
M , determined to send her for six
months to a Verbetering Huis.
With the utmost secresy, he laid before
the municipal authorities the most complete
proofs of ner wasteful extravagance and in
corrigible levity; added to which, she had
recently attached herself to gaming with
French officers of rank, who lay under an
imputation of being remarkably expert in
levying contributions. She was already in
debt upwards of thirty thousand florins to
tradesmen, although her husband allowed
her to take from his cashier a stipulated sum
every month, which was more than compe
tent to meet the current expenses of his
household; while, to meet a loss which oc
curred at play, her finest jewels were de
posited in the hands of a benevolent mon
ey-lender, who accommodated the necessi
tous, upon unquestionable security being
previously left in his custody.
Her husband was fully twenty years older
than his volatile wife, of whom he was ra
tionally fond, and at whose reformation he
aimed, before hc was carried too for away
by the stream of fashionable dissipation.
Against his will, he haJ agreed to make
one of a party of ladies, who were invited
to a grand hall and supper at the house of a
woman of rank and character.
Her husband, at breakfast, told her she
must change her course of life, or her ex
travagmefe would make him a bankrupt,
and her children beggars. She began her
usual plnyful answer, soid she “ certainly
had been a little too thoughtless, and would
soon commence a thorough reformation.”
“ You must begin to-day, my dear,” said her
husband, “ and, as a proof of your sinceri
ty, 1 entreat you to drop the company of
this day, with me and your children."—
“ Quite impossible, my dear man,” said the
modest wife, in reply; “ I have given my
word, and cannot break it.” “ Then,” said
her husband, “ if you go out this day, dress
ed, to meet that party, remember, for the
next six months, these doors will be barred
ogainst your return. Are you still resolved
to go 1” “ Yes !” said tlie indignant l#dy,
” if they were forever barred against me !”
Without either anger or malice. Mynheer
Van Der told her not to deceive her
self, for, as.certain as that was her determi
nation, so sure would she find Itis foretelling
verified. She told him, “if nothing else
had power to induce her to go, it would be
his menace.” With this they parted—the
husband to prepare the penitentiary cham
ber for his giddy young wife, and the latter
to eclipse every rival at the hall that even
ing.
To affim) her a last chance of avoiding
an ignominy which it pained him to inflict,
he went once more to try to wean her from
her imprudent courses, and proposed to set
off that evening to Zuiphcn, where her mo
ther dwell; hut he found her sullen, and
busied wilh milliners and dresses, and sur
rounded with all the paraphernalia of splen
did attire.
At the appointed hour the coach drove to
the door, and the beautiful woman, (full
dressed, or rather undressed,) tripped gaily
down stairs, and stepping into the coach,
told tke driver to stop at , on the
Keiter Gragt. It was then dark, and she
Was a little surprised to find the coach had
pasted through one of the city gates; the
sound of a clock awoke her as from a dream.
She pulled the check-string, but the driver
kept on ; she called out, and some ofie Ire
hind the coach told her, in a suppressed
voice, that shfe was a prisoner, and must be
still. The shock was severe ; she trembled
in every limb, and was near fainting with
terror and alarm when the coach entered
the gates of Vterbetering Huis. where she j
was doomed to take up her residence. •
The matron of the house—a grave, se
vere, yet a well-bred person—opened the
door, called the lady by name, and request
ed her to alight. “ Where am I ? for heav
en’s sake tell me; and why am I brought
here!” “You wjUbe itlbrmed.ofc every
thing, madam, if you please to walk in
doors.” “ Where is my husband 1” said she,
in wild affright; “ sure, he will not let me
be murdered.” “It was your husband who
drove you hither, madam. He is now upon
the coach-box!”
This intelligence wns conclusive. All
her assuiance forsook her. She submitted
to be conducted into the house, and sat pale,
mute and trembling; her face and her dress
exhibiting the most striking coutrast.
The husband, deeply affected, first spoke.
He told her “ that he had no other means to
save her from ruin, and he trusted the reme
dy would he effectual; and, when she quit
ted that retreat, she would be worthy of es
teem.”
She then essayed, by ihc humblest pro
testations, by tears and entreaties, to lie per
mitted to return ; and vowed that never
moro while she lived would she ever offend
him. “ Save me,” said she, “the mortifica
tion of ibis punishment, ami my future con.
duct shall prove the sincerity of my refor
mation.” Not to let her off too. soon, she
was shown her destined apartment and dress,
the rules of the house, and the order of her
confinement during the six months ! She
was completely overpowered with terror,
and fell senseless on the floor. When she
recovered, she found her husband chafing
her temples, end expressing the utmost anx
iety for her safety. “ I have been unworthy
of your affection,” said the fair penitent;
“ but spare me this ignominious fate; take
me back to your home, and never more shall
you have cause to reproach me.”
Her husband, who loved her with unaba
ted affection, notwithstanding all her levity,
at last relented ; and the same coach drove
her back to her home, where not one of the
domestics, (a trusty inan-scrvnnt excepted,)
had the least suspicion of what had occur
red. As soon as her husband led her to her
apart ineni, she dropped on her knees, and
implored his pardon ; told him the extent of
all her debts; begged him to take her to
Zutpheti fora few weeks, anti promised so
to reduce her expenditure as to makegood
the sums she had so inconsiderately thrown
away.
Allowing for the excessive terror she had
felt when she found, instead of being driven
to ‘s rout, she was proceeding round
tlie ramparts, outside of the city gates, which
she could not wholly overcome, she spent
the happiest evening of her life with her
husband ; and fiom that day, she abandoned
her former career of dissipated folly, and
became all that her husband desired—a good
wife and aflectionute mother.
There have beeu instances of persons be
ing confined for many years iu these houses
mostly by coercion, hut some voluntarily.
An elderly man, who had acquired a com
petency, after he retired from business, took
to drinking, and that to an excessive degree
—during which fits of intemperance, he
made away wilh his property, and showed
every symptom of spending or wasting all
he had, and reducing himself and family to
beggary.
His wife was advised to place her hus
band in a Veibetering Huis—an act for
which be thanked her, and acknowledged it
was the only means by which he could be
restrained from ruining himself.
At the end of five months’ discipline, in
a house where all his wants were supplied,
aud'nothing debarred him but intoxicating
liquors, he was deemed to he sufficiently re
claimed, and went back to his house, cured,
as he hoped, of a vice he had not acquired
in his youthful days. He did not feel the
least anger or resentment; but, on the con
trary, told his wife and sons, if lie should
again relapse into that odious vice, to send
him back, and there keep him.
For a time lie maintained his resolution
—but, by degrees, he fell ofl', ahd, in less
than a year, he had become as had as ever.
weregrteved, but, such was their
fondness for him, they would not again put
him in a place of restraint, lest their friends
should reflect upon them, and impute their
conduct to sordid motives alone.
One day the old gentleman was missed,
and the night passed without tidings; the
next morning the messenger from the Ver
betering lluis arrived with a note, inform
ing his wife and family “ that, feeling his
own inability to conquer a propensity that
was alike ruinous and unworthy of his age
and former character, lie had betaken him
self to bis old quarters, where he was de
termined to live and die, as he saw no oth
er means of avoiding the ignominy of wast
ing his properly, and making beggars of his
family.”
In Holland, the majority of mules is
twenty-five years ; and, if a young gentle- ■
man is very incorrigible, Iris parents, or
guardians, can place him iri one of these
institutions —and tlie same respecting ypung
women.
A tradesman’s daughter, in the tVarmoe’a
street, in 1803, formed an attachment to a
married man. Her parents, with a view to
save her from ruin, placed her in oue of
these lionets for six months. Solitude and
reflection, and the religious lectures reed to
hei by the minister who whs appointed to
attend, wi ought a change r:f sentiment; hut 1
the shock was so great that she died toon
j number 4.
WM. T. THOMPSON, EDITOR.
after her release—a victim lu her unfortun
ate passion.
An English tradesman, who lived in the
same street, had a wife who was rather too
much addicted to drinking, and he placed
her in on* of these houses; but whether it
was the confinement or some extraneous
causes, the unfortunate woman went raving
mad, in which state she died. It was a
curious fact that, of the English who have
been placed in these sort of houses, scarce
ly a single instance has occurred of any rad
ical good being effected, Anther than the
restraint imposed by the rules of the place;
while, of the native Dutch, in at least ono
half the cases that occurred in 1803, a rad
ical cure had beeu effected.
All these institutiors arc placed under
the superintendence of the police; most of
them are provided with dark chambers for
the confinement of the refractory, and also
a geestecl paml, or w binping-post; hut no
one can be confined in the one, or whipped
at the other, without on order from the
magistrate; ami the latter punishment must
be applied in the presence of the visiters,
and not by any servant of the house, but by
the common executioner; which inflictions
are not held as infamous, or even uitahnnor
tihle ; and many instances have occurred in
which the great and opulent have had their
children punished in this manner.
During the prosperity of the Belgic re
public, these institution were very benefi
cial to the community ; but after its decline
and fall, and the universal poverty and de
pravity which ensued, they become less an
object of terror, as only the rich, and they
were few indeed, could afford to pay for
their relatives, to whom such coercion might
he useful.
M M IM @ EU © TT .
“Care to our coffin adds a nail no doubt.
But every grin of laughter draws one out!”
Hams, Shoulders, Bacon and Middlings.
—Wc find the following laughable report of
the case of the United Slntea vs. William
Gibbs in the Not inns] ]nil]i^>>w<
Indictment jor stealing “ one Ham of Ba
con,” and charging it as a second offence of
the prisoner.
lrf Witness —l carry barnti to maikct to
sell, and had some on my stall when this here
little boy up's aud tells me——
Counsel: Never mind w hat the boy told
you.
Ist Witness ! Well, as 1 was saying, this
here little boy—that is—l—l—can't tell it
no other way—tit—
Counsel, District, Attorney, Court : Nev
er mind what he told you.
Ut Witness, (bolting it out) —That this
here Bill Gibbs had stole one of his hums, and
he saw him take it. I can’t tell it no other
way, and (to the District Attorney) that’s the
reason l wanted hint to tell his tale first.
District Attorney; Very well; let him
tell his tale first.
Boy: I was standing in the market, and
I saw this here Bill Gibbs walk up to that
‘ere gentleman’s bentTh aft'd take one of his
hams of bacon, and clap it under hia cloak,
atid slip away. And I goes and tells him.
Counsel, [sotto voce : That’s rather suspi
cious.] Were you near enough to be sure
it was Bill ?
Boy : Oh yes, sir, I’m sure it was him.
Counsel: Are you sure it was a ham of
bacon 1
Boy: Why, I reckon it was, sir; it looked
like one.
Counsel, (brightening up a little) —Ate
yon auie it was not a shoulder?
Boy, (looking doubtful) —I don’t know,
sir.
Counsel : Very well, The other witness
catitel) Us wliethci it Wasn't a shoulder indis
guise.
lit Witness recalled : Well, us I was say
ing, I had the bacon ; there was four shoul
ders tht round
Counsel: Ah! It was a shoulder then ?
Witness: Never fnihd if it was ; it was
cut round like a hath, and he never know’d
the difference. He stole it for a ham, any
how.
Counsel: Mr. Attoiiicy, I think that’s a
dead shot. The prosecution has committed
suicjde, and the only verdict the juty can
render is “ feftr dese against it.
District Attorney: That’s not so certain.
Counsel : I suppose your honor cannot
doubt the point. The prisoner might aa
Well he convicted of stealing the District
Attoibcy’s spectacles upon this indiement
for stealing a ham, as to le convicted of
stealing a shoulder. The charge is ham—
the proof is shoulder, and with middling
lusk the prisoner ought to be able to save his
bacon.
District Attorney, (opening Johnson's
dictionary) —Dr. Johnson defines ham t*
be “ the hinder jktrt of the articulation of the
thigh ; (be thigh of u lng suited.” The grand
jury do seem rather to have transcended this
definition, and l suppose I must send up
another indictment. It shall he large enough
(though it is rather a lore') to go the whole
hog against Master Gibbs ; ;tnd we’ll see if
he can shoulder that. Enter a nolle jrtfseyur.
And so the accused “ saved his bacon,”
“ Pompey arc you willing tr be damned
ifcit be the Lord's will 1” iuquited a pious
friend. •• O, yes, Masso, and more too; I
willing to have you daraued also, Mfrsa,”
replied Pompty,