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melody that is interwoven into all the wails
of life. How often has lhat bird been my
consolation when stretched on*an uneasy bed,
and hay pillow! Often have I turned over
to disten to him with both ears, that not a
whisper of his notes should escape me and
then came to the conclusion that that last ef
fort was too soul-inspiring for repetition, he had
exhausted himself there, nature could go no
further; his physical powers surely would
flag after that, it his mental ones did not: but
no! he was apparently merely at the over
ture—he was elaborating and'suggesting to
you what was to come. But his time and
measure were all his own, his song was a ro
mance, his accents could not be writen (un
like all other‘birds;) his notes were as uncer
tain as an iEolian harp’s, his next might he
grave, or gay, time only could tell. I have
heard Rubini, with his head thrown far
back, in a whispered falsetto note, when the
house was still, sometimes approach the tim
bre of this bird, but the effort was great —
it lasted but for an instant: and I trembled
for his arytenoids. I never had the like fears
in the many hours I have listened to the solos
of this favorite; he always seemed to he sing
ging that he might afterwards have rest; his
notes were rolled out in such lavish profu
sion that they seemed struggling which
should first have utterance.
Mocking birds are found over all Florida in
great numbers; I have observed, however,
that they were always most abundant about
the camp, or in the neighborhood of men.—
They seem to like an open place in the woods,
or some position where they can see every
thing around them; and generally sing, seat
ed on the topmost twig of a tree, or on the up
per splinter of some pine or cypress that has
been broken by the winds or lightning. —
Here they will imitate every bird’s note that
is going on within hearing, or that they have
heard for the week preceding: and I have of
ten interupted a merry fellow when in full
glow in this position, with my imitation: he
would stop instantly, turn round the side of
his head towards the ground, and listen;
but whether in astonishment or admiration I
cannot sav ; he never would follow me, how
ever. having evidently determined that all my
notes were shams.
How the Indians inspire birds with so much
faith, and so effectually tame them, I cannot
determine. A mocking bird will hop about an
Indian lodge, or fly among the neighboring
trees or through the encampment, and yet
alight on its mistress’ shoulder or hand at
her call; not a feather in its wing cut, and ig
norant of that prison, a cage. It is the same
with other birds; the crane, a wild distant
bird, will skim over the ground, half flying
half running, with the speed of a horse, af
ter his master; there is some latent chord of
congeniality between the two.
R. S. H.
St. Louis , Mo.
onr Dark Corner.
[The following ingenious riddle was pro
posed to the House of Commons by the cele
brated George Canning. We hope some rea
der will furnish us with a solution in verse,
in season for our next issue.— Ed.S. L.G. ]
A noun there is of plural number,
A foe to human peace and slumber;
Now any noun you chance to take,
By adding S you plural make ;
But lo ! by adding S to this —
How strange the metamorphosis!—
Plural is plural now no more,
And sweet, what bitter was before !
A LITERARY CHARACTER.
I have long maintained a distinguished
station in our modern days, but I cannot trace
my origin to ancient times, though the learn
ed have attempted it. After the revolution
in 1688, I was chief physician to the king;
at least in my absence he ever complained of
sickness. Had I lived in ancient days so
friendly was I to crowned heads, that Cleo
patra would have got off with a sting; and
her cold arm would have felt a reviving heat.
I am rather a friend to sprightliness than to
industry; I have often converted a neuter
pronoun into a man of talent; I have often
amused myself by reducing the provident ant
to indigence; I never meet a post-horse with
out giving him a blow; to some animals lam
a friend, many a puppy has yelped for aid
when I have deserted him. lam a patron of
architecture, and can turn every thing into
brick and mortar; and so honest withal, that
whenever I can find a pair of stockings, I ask
for their owner. Not even Lancaster has
carried education so far as I have; I adopt
always the system of interrogatories. I have
already taught my hat to ask questions of fact;
and my poultry questions of chronology.
3© u -J 1 11 is A ill MYS[B AIB Y ® A SUIT US ♦
With my trees I share the labours of my
laundry, they scour my linen; and when I
find a rent, ’tis I who make it entire.
In short, such are my merits, that whatev
er yours may be, you can never be more than
half as good as I am.
[answer next week.]
(Column (CrcctCL) to -fun.
ANECDOTE OF CURRAN.
Curran, tells a story which no hermit, even
telling his last beads, could avoid laughing at.
Related by any one, it would have been good;
but as told by Curran, with his powers of des
cription and characteristic humor, was super
excellent; and we had to thank Diver the wa
ter-dog, for the highest zest of the whole eve
ning. The fact was, that a little while previ
ous to dinner-time, Curran, who had omitted
his customary ablution in the morning, went
to our allotted bedchamber to perform that
ceremony, and having striped, had just begun
to apply the sponge when Diver, strolling about
his master’s premises to see if all was right,
placed by chance his paw against the door,
which not being fastened, it flew open; he en
tered very unceremoniously, and observing
what he conceived to be an extraordinary and
suspicious figure, coucluded it was somebody
with no very honest intention, and stopped to
reconnoitre. Curran, unaccustomed to so
strange a valet, retreated while Diver ad
vanced, and very significantly showed an in
tention to seize him by the naked throat;
which operation, if performed by Diver, whose
tusks were full an inch in length, would no
doubt have admitted an inconvenient quanti
ty of atmospheric air into his oesophagus.—
He therefore crept as close into the corner as
he could, and had the equivocal satisfaction
of seeing his adversary advance and turn the
meditated assault into a complete blockade;
stretching himself out, and ‘maintaining his
position’ with scarcely the slightest motion, till
the counsellor was rescued and the siege rai
sed. Curran had been in hopes that “when
Diver had satisfied his curiosity he would re
tire; and with this impression, spoke kindly
to him, but was answered only by a growl.
If Curran repeated his blandishments, Diver
showed his long white tusks; if he moved his
foot, the dog’s hind-legs were in motion.—
Once or twice Curran raised his hand; but Di
ver, considering that as a challenge, rose in
stantly, and with a low growl looked signif
icantly at Curran’s wind-pipe ; Curran there
fore stood like a model, if not much like a
marble divinity In truth, though somewhat
less comely, his features were more expres
sive than those of the Apollo Bellvidere.—
Had the circumstances occurred at Athens to
Demosthenes, or in the days of Phidias, it is
probable my friend Curran and Diver would
have been at this moment exhibited in virgin
marble at Florence or in the Vatican; and lam
quite sure the subject would have been better
and more amusing than that of ‘the Dying
Gladiator.’— Barrington's Personal Memoirs.
PADDY AND THE ECHO.
“ Patrick ! w here have you been this hour
or more? You must not absent yourself
without my permission.”
“Och, niver more will I do the like, sir.”
“Well, give an account of yourself, you
seem out of breath.”
“ Faith, the same I am; I niver rvas in such
fear since I came to Ameriky. I’ll tell you
ail about it, sir, w’hen I get breath onst agin.”
“ I heard ye tilling the gintlemen of the won
derful echo, sir, over in the w’oods behint the
hig hill. I thocht by what ye said uv it, that
it bate all the hechoes uv ould Ireland, sir,
and so it does, by the powers! Well, I just
run over to the place you wras speaking uv,
to converse a bit with the wonderful creather.
So said I ‘Hillo, hillo, hillo!’ and sure enough
the hecho said, ‘ hillo, hillo, hillo, you noisy
rascal!’ ”
“I thocht that wras very quare, and said
‘hillo,’ again.”
“Hillo, yourself,” said the echo, “you be
gun it first.”
“What the divil are you made uv ?” saidl.
“ Shut your mouth,” said the echo.
“So said I, ‘ye blatherin scoundrel, if ye
was flesh and blood, like an honest man, that
ye isn’t, I'd hammer ye till the mother of ye
wouldn’t know’ her impedint son.’ ”
“And what do yo think the hecho said to
that, sir ? ‘ Scamper ye baste of a Paddy,’ said
he, ‘or fait if 1 catch you I’ll break every bone
in your uglv body.’ An’ it hit my head with a
stone, sir, that was nigh knocking the poor
brains out uv me. So I run as fast as iver l
could : and praised the saints, 1 am here
to tell you uv it, sir.”
fiomc Comspcmlumtt.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
NEW-YORK LETTERS-NO. IV.
New York, May 27, 1848.
Dear Sir: An unfortunate casualty, result
ing in the loss of an eye, occurred lately to a
gentleman, while promenading Broadway, be
hind one of that numerous tribe of individuals
given to the pleasant habit of carrying canes
and umbrellas horizontally , under the arm.
It is annoying enough to have the pave ob
structed by unwieldy old women, and gaily
plumed or ragged urchins; or with country
gentlemen who swagger gracefully from one
side of the walk to the other, as they read the
signs over fifth story windows, or admire the
lady on the top of the city hall, leaving you
all the tune in a state of agonizing uncertain
ty, whether you are to pass them on the right
or the left; or it is terrible to have your lungs
filled with the fumes of a nasty cigar between
the lips of some dirty citizen, or the flavor of
a sweet havanna, puffed by a jaunty Bowery
boy, or a medical or theological student; or
it is unpleasant to be brought to a halt by the
progress of a Military company, an Odd Fel
low's procession, or a line of the Sons of Tem
perance ; or a litter, with a virulent case of
small-pox; or to be hemmed in by a jam of
omnibusses; or delayed half an hour at a
‘ crossing,’ by a procession of filthy dirt carts,
a line of walking show-boards from Bar
num’s; or the passage of a drove of cattle ;
or to be run against by’ Jarge dogs reveling in
the full enjoyment of the largest liberty ; or
to stumble over a precious little poodle, with
a blue neck ribband, while its dear mistress
looks daggers at your faux pas ; or to be bu
ried at mid-day in a cloud of dust, raised by
some tardy house-maid on the steps of some
aristocratic mansion; or to be drowned by an
unseasonable Croton water-spout in its recoil
from the third floor window of said mansion:
each and all of these trifles might be very con
veniently and pleasantly dispensed with: but
this insufferable habit of obstructing the walk
with long sticks must be corrected, nolus volus.
as General Taydor has it. It gives the pas
senger a very undue portion of the pave, since
those who follow, instinctively recoil from the
threatening projectile, as from a danger sub
ject to no regular laws, and whose eccentric
ities of movement, can in no manner be fore
seen. Dixon 11. Lewis himself, with a great
coat on, would be less of an obstruction : or
even the Hon. Mr. Wentworth, propelled
lengthwise !
Our city pas have as yet adopted none of
the hundred proposed plans for relieving
Broadway of the excessive amount of omni
bus travel. Foot passengers are still terribly
annoyed by the obstructions they encounter
at every corner, from these lumbering carria
ges of the million ; a practical plan of eject
ment would be a desideratum. I was, while
riding in one of these stages the other night,
amused by a little incident resulting from the
plan of season tickets. A holder of this priv
ilege, in making his exit irom a full coach,
sung out his pass-word—“ Caesar!” A wag,
thinking he would try the same economical
expedient, followed, as he gave the same sig
nal with equal confidence, but ‘John’ not rec
ognizing him as one ol the elect, and quite as
funny as the economist, cried out, “seize
him /” The passenger rinding his joke did
not take, passed his six-pence, remarking to
his fellow-travellers, that the ignorant dunce
had evidently never read the classic proverb.
“When in Rome , do as the Romans!”
General Scott and General Thumb, the he
roes of Mexico and the Museum, are now
daily expected to arrive here. The former,
who has landed and is now at his residence
in New Jersey, is to be greeted with a grand
military and civic procession; but the latter
will in all probability, receive the greatest
share of the public respects! Sam Weller’s
paradoxical saying, that “little vons is always
great vons,” has ever proved true here, in the
experience of the redoubtable and gallant
“Tom Ponce.” By’ the way, another of the
Thumb family is exhibiting himself to our
good people; but he is a Major General, as
the genuine Tom is not, and so many inches
taller too than our little General, that he wins
no kisses from the fair visitors.
A private letter, recently received from our
distinguished historical painter Leutze, now in
Dusseldorf, Germany', hints at the probability
of his own return to the United States, and
mentions the names of several of the most
eminent German artists, who entertain serious
thoughts of establishing themselves in New
York ! Such an accession to the profession
would create anew and great era in the his
tory of American art. And it is not at all
unlikely, not only that they may execute
their project, but that the new order of things
in the old world, may send us both its best
artists, and its greatest patrons of all depart
ments of the arts. There is very little doubt
that this country will soon be the asylum of
very many of the most distinguished and aris
tocratic families of Europe, from haughty
monarchs to theirhumblest courtiers. Wheth
er the German painters come or not, we have
just made an invaluable acquisition, in the
opening here of a magnificent gallery of the
Modern French School of Art. Messrs. Gou
pil, Vibert & Cos., of Paris, celebrated as the
publishers of the works of the most eminent
artists of France, lately opened here a branch
of their house, for the sale of fine French. En
glish and German Engravings; and to this
feature they have just added a permanent
exhibition of original productions of the most
celebrated artists of the French school. This
splendid collection was exhibited privately to
artists and others, on Monday last, and on
Tuesday’ exposed to the public. It contains
gems from De la Roche, Schceffer, Muller,
Winterhalter, Bouchat and other distinguished
names. It is the intention of Messrs. Goupil
\ ibert & Cos., to engrave in Paris, the most
remarkable ivories of the American School of
Art. One such picure at least, will be pro
duced every year, and distributed among the
members or subscribers of the establishment.
Five dollars annually will create a member,
who will have free admission, at all times, to
the Gallery', and a copy of the engraving of
the year. For 1848, they are bringing out
the beautiful and favorite picture of the
“Power of Music,” painted by our inimitable
artist, Wm. S. Mount, Esq. All who saw
this admirable work in the exhibition of the
Academy of Design last year, will desire to
possess a copy. It is in every’ way, in com
position, effect and character, one of the very
happiest of Mr. Mount's works, and quite
sufficient, of itself, to give the artist the dis
tinguished reputation which he enjoys. Long
may Mr. Mount live to paint such pictures,
and Messrs. Goupil, Vibert & Cos , to engrave
them. We anticipate with pleasure, the re
sults of this effort of the painters of France
to fraternize, as Mr. Schaus, the gentlemanly
and amiable partner of the house conducting
the American Branch, felicitously expresses
it, in his circular. Vive la Rcpublique !
Speaking of fraternizing, reminds me of an
incident which shook the cobwebs from my
brain, at a recent assembly of a laughing
club. One of the members proposed the health
of a guest, whom we will name Brown, but
he mistook Mr. Brown’s cognomen, and
drank to “Mr. Smith.” He was immediately
informed of his error, while a dozen different
persons introduced him to Mr. Brown —
“ Brown—Thompson! Thompson—Brown.”
Whereupon the member rose and gravely pro
posed to “amend his toast, by striking out
the word ‘ Smith’ and inserting ‘ Brown’!”
He then, with a spasmodic jerk, offered his
right hand to Mr. Brown—after a hearty
shake he pushed out his left hand—a second
shake, and then came both hands—and lastly,
he threw’ himself with a dying impulse of