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THEATRICAL ANECDOTE.
The tragedy of Macbeth was acted on Mon
day week at a town in Suffolk, and among
the audience was a man who had been nearly
fifty miles in the course of the day to see
Corder, the murd rer, hanged at Bury. Such
was the belief entertained to the last, in some
parts of the country, that the extreme penalty
of the law would not be inflicted, that the
man who had seen him die was so pestered
on all sides for an account of the melancholy
spectacle, that he literally betook himself to
the Theatre to avoid further importunities. —
Just as he entered, the fourth scene of the
tragedy was commencing, and as he was
quietly sitting himself down in the bo“x near
the stage, Duncan began in the words of the
author, as usual:—
“Is execution done on Cawdor ?”
“ Yes, Sir,” said the man; “ I saw him
hanged this morning—and that’s the last time
I’ll ’answer any more questions about it.”
The audience were convulsed with laughter
at the strange mistake, and it was some time
before the performance could be proceeded
with.”
1 >
STATISTICS OF A COAT.
By a statement from a tailor, in Boston, it
appears that there are ‘25,243 stiches in a coat,
viz: basting stiches 782, in the edges of a coat,
5590, felling the edges, faces, &c. 6414, out
of sight 5969, in the pockets, &c. 1982, in
the collar alone, 3056, holes, 1450. The coat
he says was made in two days, journeyman’s
hours.
THE OLD COAT.
It is better to turn the old coat, said my
aunt Prudence, than to run in debt for anew
one. But see replied I, there is a hole in it!
Never mind that said she, put on a patch ; a
patch upon the sleeve is better than a writ
on the back; the old coat will set easier at
home than anew one in prison. And so I
wear the old coat yet.
31 Column (Srcctcir to JFtrn.
A TAILOR DONE BROWN.
Not many years there lived in the “moral”
city of Boston, two young bucks, rather wag
gish in their ways, and who were in the hab
it of patronising rather extensively a tailor by
the name of Smith. Well, or.e day into
Smith’s shop these two young bloods strolled.
Says one of them—
“ Smith we’ve been making a bet; now we
want you to make each of us a suit of clothes
—wait till the bet is decided, and then the
one that loses will pay the whole.”
Certainly, gentlemen, I shall be most hap
py to serve you,” says Smith, and forthwith
their measure was taken, and in due course
of time the clothes were sent home.
A month or two passed by, and yet our tai
lor saw nothing of his customers. One day,
however, he met them in Washington St. and
thinking it almost time the bet was decided,
he made up to them, and asked how their
clothes fitted.
“Oh ! excellently,” says one; “by the bye,
Smith, our bet isn’t decided yet.”
“Ah!” says Smith, “what is it?”
“Why, Jbet that when Bunker hill Monu
ment falls , it will fall towards the south’ Bill
here took me up, and when the bet is decided
we’ll call and pay you that little bill.”
Smith’s face stretched to double its usual
length, but he soon recovered his wonted good
humor, and says he—
“ Boys, Tm sold; let’s go and taken “snif
ter” —and I tell you what, boys, say nothing
about it, and I’ll send you receipted bills this
afternoon.” — Spirit of the Times.
MISSING A STYLE.
Soon after the publication of Miss Bur
ney’s novel, called “Cecilia,” a young lady
was found reading it. After the general top
ics of praise were exhausted, she was asked
whether she did not greatly admire the style ?
Reviewing the incidents in her memory, she
replied, “The style? the style?—Oh! sir, I am
not come to that yet! ”
THE VERY ONE.
A Frenchman w T ho w T as exhibiting various
sacred relics and other curiosities, produced
among others a sword, which he assured his
visitors was “de sword dat Balaam had
wen he would kill de ass.” A spectator re
marked that Balaam had no sword, but only
wished for one. “Ver well; dis is de ver
one he wished for.”
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A HEAVY BLOW.
A Pennsylvania Colonel, who is fond of
telling tough ’uns —especially stories of which
he himself is the hero—lately “drew the long
bow” after the following wise. Where’s
“Uncle Charles?”
“I was once in Harrisburgh,” says the col
onel, “on some official business. During my
stay, a horse race came off near the capital;
and as I am rather partial to horse racing, I
went to see it. Just as the horses were about
starting, some fellow insulted me by jostling
me rather roughly. Now you know I don’t
often fight, but when Ido strike; so I up fist,
and hit him a blow that sent him against the
fence, into a field carrving with him nine sec
tions of posts and rails. The fellow lay a
short time then raising himself into a sitting
posture, he looked wildly around him. “Gen
tlemen,” said he, “has the storm done much
damage ? Did the lightning strike any body
but me?” ”
LEGISLATIVE ANECDOTE.
A Mr. Lee, member of the House of Dele
gates (in Virginia,) wore a wig, with a long
queue, in the old fashion. A waggish brother
member (Roberts of Culpepper) one day saw
Lee wriggling in his seat, and trying to catch
the speaker’s eye, that he might rise and make
a speech. R. dexterously tied the queue to
the high back of the bench, on which L. sat,
and such as all that house sat on, till within
the last ten or twelve years. The next mo
ment, a favorable juncture came, and Mr. L.
rose eagerly, exclaiming, “Mr. Speaker! ”
but his wig came off; and turning to Roberts
he in the same breath cried out, “ You’re a
fool!” The House roared of course. — So.
Lit. Messenger.
The Sailor and his Seven-shotted Gun.
—An Irish seaman, during an engagement,
determined to give the enemy a good pepper
ing at once, secretly put seven bullets into
the cannon, which it was his duty to load. —
The recoil of the gun was so great, that tho’
he had placed himself a considerable distance
from the breech, it struck him about the knees,
and threw him down. Writhing with agony
from the severity of the blow, but willing to
save his messmates from a similar assault,
Pat bawled out,
“Stand clear my honeys, for, by Jasus,
there’s six more to go off yet.”
Catching the sun. —ln crossing the Atlan
tic, says a friend, some years ago, we were
very much amused by the remarks of two ver
dant sons of the Emerald Isle. It being near
meridian, the captain was engaged in taking
the meridian latitude, during which process
he was narrowly watched by the two before
mentioned. At length their patience could
stand it no longer, and one cried, “Arrah,
Jerry, what’s the captain doing?” “Whist,
Paddy,” replied Jerry in a whisper, “he’s
sthriving to catch the sun in a brass rat-trap.”
No Room. —An editor at a dinner-table, be
ing asked if he would take some more pud
ding, replied—“ Owing to a crowd of other
matter, I am unable to make room for it.”
.foreign (lorrcsponftence.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
LONDON LETTERS.-NO. V.
London, June 1, 1848.
Dear Sir: The first of June brings with it
no unseasonable weather, for town and coun
try are both hot and dry. There are doubt
less many delightful retreats and shadowy
nooks in the latter where neither heat nor
drought would annoy one; but to those of us
who are obliged to stay within the everlast
ing walls of brick, or, when we do leave
them, to pursue only the great routes of trav
el by railroad or otherwise, there are no such
oases in the vast desert around us. ’Tis true
London has its summer charms—of the natur
al or rural kind. Its spacious Parks—the
Green, St. James’, Hyde and Kensington, not
forgetting the beautiful Regent's—and its nu
merous public gardens, all contribute to the
pleasure of a London summer. The visitor
to this great Babel will not fail to notice one
prevailing taste in those portions of the city
where the middle and better sorts of the work
ing classes chiefly dwell. I allude to the love
of flowers. In every balcony, and where the
houses are too humble to exhibit this appen
dage, in every w'indow of the parlors or sit
ting-rooms, he will behold boxes or pots of
flowers, from the sweet mignonette to the
flaunting carnation. These pets are nearly
universal in some regions, and they almost
sadden one by forcibly reminding him how
the iron hand of commerce and toil has
abridged the opportunity for such enjoyments
in a city like London, tho’ they nevertheless
breathe of Paradise and babble of sweet fields.
Pardon, I pray you, my summer- y digression,
into which I was betrayed by the mere date
of my letter —the initial day, in the calendar,
of summer. And now to the news of the
week.
I regret to inform you that there have been
indications of a spirit of violence in several
portions of England, but without any serious
results, owing, doubtless, to the prompt and
efficient arrangements of the Government to
preserve order. I will not trouble you with
the details of the disturbances at Manchester,
Bradford and other manufacturing towns. —
They are, it appears, easily suppressed by
armed force, but their occurrence is a matter
of great regret, and creates deep anxiety as
to the ultimate issue. There is much dis
tress among the laboring classes, and hunger
and privation make ignorant men desperate
and capable of doing great mischief. What
a blessing it would be to this country if its
vast surplus population could be thrown off
with real advantage to the emigrant portion.
It seems almost inevitable that the Govern
ment will adopt some efficient and extensive
system for removing thousands of the desti
t.ite laborers to some region where their toil
would be adequately rewarded.
There has been quite a Chartist affair in the
city—in the district of Clerkenwell. It was
promptly suppressed, but not until a good deal
of alarm had been excited in most parts of
London. It is, of course, no difficult thing to
frighten the people now ; so ready are the ap
prehensions of the people to seize upon and
exaggerate every cause of alarm.
The principal effect of these disturbances
has been, as is generally the case, prejudicial
to the cause of the agitators, by suspending,
to some extent, actual business operations in
the Mills, and so making the matter worse
with the operatives. The low price of flour is,
under these circumstances, a cause of con
gratulation—as it greatly lessens the dis
tresses of the poor.
The excitement both in England and in Ire
land, occasioned by the conviction of Mitchel ,
has been very high. In Dublin there were
indications of fierce hostility to the crown of
ficers, but no violence was attempted, The
demeanor of the convict was defiant to the last.
Unhappy man ! torn, by Ids own violent
course, from his family and his country, he
must reap the fruits of his felony in the prison
service of the Bermudas! His family will be
amply provided for by the nation. Mitchel
is in poor health, and on this account his ori
ginal destination, Norfolk Island, has been
changed to the Bermudas. This step on the
part of the Government has been a terrible
blow to the violent party in Ireland. Their
murmurings are not loud but deep, and al
though at present tranquility exists, there is
no telling how soon a mine of popular fury
will be sprung, and the blood of hundreds or
thousands be shed as the penalty. I tremble
to think of the state of affairs in beautiful but
desolate Erin. Starvation, misrule and vio
lence are the prominent features in her condi
tion; and things do not appear to mend. The
transportation of Mitchel may speedily evolve
a crisis—for which, indeed, Government is
preparing.
I have nothing new to tell you of France.
The “National Assembly’’ maintains its ex
istence, and proceeds with its legislation un
der a constant guard of fifty thousand mus
queteers. There is something sadly ominous
for the future in thjs immense military force
surrounding the council of the Republic. Tho
number of workmen now in Paris depending
upon the Government wages, is estimated at
one hundred and twenty-five thousand! How
long can such a state of things possibly exist ?
There are moreover perpetual conspiracies
among these classes against the existing go
vernment. Blanqui has been arrested how
ever, and this may be the fortunate step to the
overthrow of the Communist factions which
now threaten to destroy the State.
I will not carry your readers further into
Continental Europe as I shall introduce them
into the midst of “ confusion worse confound
ed.” It would puzzle the tourist to find a spot
where he would be unmolested by the applian
ces of Revolution ! The whole of this di
vision of the Globe is whirling on an axis al
together independent of its diurnal rotation—
and the people of France, Austria, Germany,
Italy, and many other countries may appro
priately sing
“ Now we go up, up, up,
And now we go down, down, down, &c.”
Asa chronicler of the passing events of the
day in this part of the world, I must not for
get to mention the affair of the “Derby”—by
which your readers will at once understand
me to mean, the great annual race which
comes off at Derby—and to which “ all the
world and his wife” are attracted. Os course
I went also. You know, probably, lam not
addicted to the turf, but a stranger who visits
England, and is in London during the races,
without going to the Downs, misses a specta
cle of an extraordinary character. I went
“to see the show,” and despite the hot wea
ther, and the excessively dusty roads, I was
abundantly repaid for my journey. I sup
pose I am not exaggerating, when I count
myself one of, perhaps, twenty thousand
whom London disgorged on the day of the
Derby. This vast aggregate included every
class and condition of society—from the titled
in their coronetted carriages, to the peasant, in
his donkey car. The Rail Road, however,
was the great medium of travel, and detach
ment after detachment of the crowds were
whirled in successive trains from the South
East Railway Station—and many thousand
pedestrians were consequently seen on the
course. I shall not weary you with details
of the day, or its results. I visited it to see
the celebration of a great English fete, and
not merely to see Surplice outrun Shylock —
thereby transfering to the pockets of Lord
Clifden and others, some 5,500 guineas, be
side the amounts won in bets. It was an ex
citing scene, as you may imagine, and a spirit
of intense eagerness seemed to pervade the
dense masses that thronged the Downs.—
There were many disagreeable concomitants
of the great scene —where men of little money
and less wit were winning and losing small
ventures—and where drinking and swearing
abounded. I saw many hundreds of ladies
in gay equipages at the “Derby.” The con
sumption of sandwiches, hams, chickens,
cakes, champagne and other refreshments,
was beyond all computation. Thousands of
hampers went thither, full, but I would not
vouch that one returned in the same condition.
But I must race to a conclusion.
I had the pleasure of hearing Jenny Lind,
on Monday night, in the character of “ Lucia
di Lammermoor ;” and probably the Swedish
Nightingale never warbled sweeter and more
effectually to a more crowded house. Jenny
has taken the hearts of the Londoners by
storm, impassive as they are said to be in gen
eral.
I have received the first number of your
Gazette , and am happy to see that you were
able to issue on the day you advertised to do
so. May the patronage of your handsome
Journal be commensurate with its claims up
on your people, and with its actual merit;
and I will ask no more for it. With regards
to our mutual friends in Georgia when you
see them, I beg you to believe me,
Ever yours, E, F. G,