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54 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.” g(Di IT £IE SSI lb fl If &IBA IB ¥ ©A 8 IE? ¥ls * 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,