Newspaper Page Text
76
fiomc (JorrcspotiNcmc.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
NEW-YORK LETTERS-NO. X.
Catskill Mountain Home , )
July sth, 1848. j
My Dear Sir: I am, this week, so com
pletely out of the world, in the solitudes of
the Catskills, that T can tell von but little of
the sayings and doings of the city. The
Whig ratification meeting, and the Commence
ment of the New York University, were to
have taken place, as they doubtless did, last
week. The “glorious fourth” was probably
celebrated in Gotham, in the usual noisy man
ner. Fire-crackers were popping through the
streets before I made my escape, and all due
arrangements had been made for the custom
ary military procession, and other fixings. —
People in this latitude have been wishing they !
were in the city on the occasion, while I,
like all who have been blessed with an es
cape from the confusion incident thereto, have
congratulated myself upon the enjoyment of
country quiet. We have not failed to do fit- \
ting honor to the memorable anniversary of j
Independence, after our own fashion. I 1
passed the day with a party of young friends
from the “Mountain House,” in a trouting j
excursion to the “ Stony Clove.” We had
very fair luck in our piscatory labors, but
drew still more amusement from a little bur
lesque, which we got up upon the inflated
manner which always characterizes the cere
monies of the “ Fourth.” One of our party
climbed a huge hemlock, and hung from the
topmost bough thereof, aminiature edition of
the Star-Spangled Banner, which the fair fin
gers of the ladies had prepared for the pur
pose. Those who had guns duly discharged
them, awakening the ten thousand echoes of
the mighty hills which environed our camp.
We then flung upon the breeze, every patri
otic song we could remember, winding up
with the whistling of Yankee Doodle. The
next ceremony was the “ Declaration of Inde
pendence,”—not of the “old thirteen,” but of
our particular party, from the dust and heat
of Broadway, the limitations of the narrow
pave, the constraints of polished boots and
starched cravats, and the thousand conven
tional bores which the dweller in cities is heir
to. The document was infinitely comical,
and when we had subscribed our lives, for
tunes, and sacred honors, the orator of the
day arose and poured forth one of the most
grandiloquent strains which it had ever been
our pleasure to hear. It was heart-rending,
the way in which the “blood of our fathers”
flowed through the land: all the crags of the
venerable Catskills were as nothing and less
than nothing, in the sight of the terrific rock
of Plymouth: and when the speaker thun
dered forth those memorable words, “don't
give up the ship!” you would have supposed
that every rock in the gorge should have
danced with enthusiasm, and every leaf of the
forest clapped its hands in glee. At the close
of a most stirring peroration, the guns again
fired a salute, and our party merrily partook
of the collation spread beneath .a group of no
ble birch-trees, whose dense foliage over
shadowed the sparkling little brook which
courses the Clove. I might say much to you
of the beautiful scenery of these mountains;
of the dark glen of the Stony Clove, of all
the changing aspects of the Kautcrskill. the
pleasures of a visit to the “ Mountain House,”
and man}- other phases, but that your corres
pondent “All About.” T see has already dis
coursed to you thereupon, and has anticipa
ted me in all I might find to say. I will
merely add. that since last summer, sundry
mprovements have been effected in the “ Yan
kee Palace.” as Mr. Laninan says the good
people round about call the “Mountain
House.” and that it is already filled with sum
mer visitors. On my way hither, 1 stopped
at Sing-Sing, and paid a visit to the State
Prison there, and afterwards to the old head-
3X) iI U kA ii iL a &iEA & ¥ IS ABls ¥ ¥ 18.
quarters of General Washington at Newburgh.
Both of these towns are large thriving places,
and indeed, the banks of the Hudson, as you
know 7 , swarm with prosperous cities and vil
lages, while the shore in the intervals of the
towns, is spotted thickly with happy looking
and picturesque summer chateaux. All this
march of improvement is most pleasing, perse,
as Mr. Tyler used to say, but more particu
larly to the eye and mind of a good Gotha
mite, as he remembers the contribution it will
make to the aggrandizement of the parent
city, his own great metropolis. The wealth
of the country, for hundreds of miles around,
is pouring and must continue to pour directly
into the lap of New York, daily increasing
her already mighty resources, until one grows
weary and lost in speculation upon the great
ness of her destiny. Whatever may be the
progress of other cities in our wide land, that
of New York will still be in a greater ratio,
until she becomes to the Union, even more
than London and Paris now are to England
and France. She is drawing within her lim
its, the greatest capitalists in commerce, and
the most brilliant talent in letters, science and
art; and is unquestionably destined to hold
still more proudly than she now does, the
high rank of the metropolis of the Western
world.
And now, my dear sir, as I have given you
a little sprinkling of both country and town,
I will put you off with a short letter, while I
hasten to the drawing-room of our Mountain
Castle, in obedience to the summons which I
have this moment received, to personate the
character, in a tableau vivant, of the King
drinking to Hamlet; after which will come
my onerous duties as Chairman of the com
mittee of investigation of our host’s cigars.
Yours truly, FLIT.
II ITMI 111 lIiIHIM
Southern (Eclectic.
BUONAVENTURE, BY STARLIGHT,
BY HENRY R. JACKSON.
Along a corridor I tread
High over-arched by ancient trees,
Where like a tapestry o’er head,
The gray moss floats upon the breeze ;
A weary breeze which kissed to-day
Tallulah’s falls of flashing foam,
And sported in Toccoa’s spray—
Brings music from its mountain home !
The clouds are floating o’er the sky,
And cast at times a fitful gloom,—
As o ’er our hearts dear memories fly—
Cast deeper shades on Tatnall’s tomb ;
While glimmering onward to the sea,
With scarce a rippling wave at play,
A line of silver through the lea —
The river stretches far away !
And’t is the hour when stars above
Reflect the spirit’s inner light,
And the lost Pleiads of my love
Arc kindling in my heart to night.
I hear a foot-fall on the sand,
I feel an arm within my own ;
Full often in a distant land,
I’ve listened to that trembling tone.
Night darkens into deeper shade,
As on with solemn pace we stroll,
I hear the teachings of the dead
Like sacred music in my soul!
“ bve and act, while thou art here.
That when thy course of life is done —
Above the stars thou may’st not fear
To meet thy father's face, my son ! ”
! MAJ. THEOPHILUS BANDBOX BUBBLE,
OR THE NICE YOUNG MAN.
BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SMITHVILLE PAPERS.
“ He was such a nice young man.”
Comic Song.
A nice young man was Major Theophilus
, Bandbox Bubble—a very nice young man in-
I deed ! He was a citizen of the delectable
< village of . and from behind one of its
; two rival counters he occasionally sold tape
| or dispensed tobacco to some infatuated cus
; tomer. I say occasionally, for the establish
ment of which he was the head [and tail]
clerk, had fallen into disrepute, and its owner
i Lad become exceedingly odious to the people
; °. n account of his mischief-making propensi
ties, his consummate avarice, and his notori
ous disregard of truth ar.d honesty, insomuch
that most of the villagers had ceased to pat
lonizc him, and his little custom was derived
from the adjacent country.
Maj. Theophilus Bandbox Bubble received
his title—of which he was infinitely more
vain than was the jackdaw of his peacock
plumes, and with infinitely less reason! —
from a fragment of Georgia militia, existing
somewhere in the region of . We
never had the pleasure of seeing him in his
regimentals, if indeed he has any! hut have
no doubt that, whenever he wears them, he
feels at least a foot taller and a size larger
than any other man in the country, whereas
he is, upon the whole, un petit homme.
It is not our intention to describe too partic
ularly the personal appearance of Major
Bubble, but we must not altogether neglect it.
He has a feminine face, with aquiline nose,
darkish eyes, and jetty locks, which, from
long saturation in Massacar, have become as
resplendent as a boot just out of the hands
of a consumer of Day and Martin’s best, and
so redolent of odors, that he sensibly reminds
us of Cowper's
“ civet in the room,
A fine puss gentleman that’s all perfume.”
But the most attractive feature of his face is
a soft, unmitigated simper, which plays about
it as perpetually as—flies about a cup of mo
lasses ! It flits from one corner to the other,
producing a faint, fitful smile—a sort of au
rora-borealis, or, more strictly speaking, a
“feu follet,” or jack-o’-lantern expression.
This simper becomes intensified, and indeed
almost alarming, when he is in the company
of ladies; and some of his acquaintance are
apprehensive that it will, one day or other,
prove the death of him.
The genius of Major Bubble lies so deep,
that we have not as yet keen able, satisfacto
rily, to discover it. We think, however, that
we have seen certain and unmistakeable indi
cations that its chief characteristic is in self
appreciation. In all the range of biography
we do not remember to have met with an in
dividual, so great in every attribute of a man
—in his own estimation!—as Major Theo
philus Bandbox Bubble. He believes that he
is, beyond doubt, the handsomest young man
in —-He walks the streets of the vil
lage as if it were infinite condescension on his
part to touch with the soles of his morocco
pumps, the common earth. Does he desire to
behold a model of human beauty? He runs
to the mirror which hangs in his landlady’s
parlor, and with rapt devotion contemplates
his matchless self ! He once heard the story
of Adonis and his wonderful beauty, and with
a most excruciating simper declared that it
was a pity he had not lived in those days.
This excessive vanity of our hero has met
with many and most pointed rebukes, and in
volved himin repeated dilemmas: butalthough
he has been decidedly cut by society, until he
is now scarcely tolerated even in the most in
exclusive assemblies, his self-appreciation is
as decided as ever, and indeed, has advanced
in proportion to his depreciation with others.
It happened, not long since, that a party
came off a few miles out of the village. A
very general invitation was extended, and a
mong others, Major Bubble was honored with
a card. It is not surprising that he accepted
the invitation, for nothing short of death (or
the sheriff) could possibly keep him away
from such a field for the display of his beauty
and gallantry.
His preparations for the fete were made
with great assiduity. His outward man—his
only man by the way—was adorned with the
utmost precision. An extra bottle of Macas
sar was broached, anew and bewitching curl,
and a deeper gloss, were imparted To his
cherished whiskers. The brass buttons on
his blue coat were polished with extra skill.
His clean white cambric peeped timidly out
of his rear pocket; and his hat sat on his
head, or rather on his perfumed locks, as
lightly as'the froth on a dish of syllabub!
He had borrowed, for the occasion, anew
and handsome curricle, into which ho sprang
with a grace that Lord Chesterfield might have
envied, that he struck his knee against
the corner of the seat) when taking the"reins
and whip (in his carefully gloved hands, he
proceeded to test the fancied irresistibility of
his charms upon a fair girl of the village
whom he had resolved to accompany to the
party!
His elegant vehicle drew up before the resi
dence ol his chosen belle. He alighted, and
simpering as he went, advanced to the door
and inquired for Miss. W. She appeared. !
‘ T °°d evening, Miss W : f have |
called to ask you. if—ahem—ii you will do
me the pleasure—ahem— to ride with me to
the party—this charming evening.”
“ No, sir, I have made other arrangements
Good evening, sir; Lwish you a pleasant
Our nice young man was thunderstruck
He almost forgot to simper, and stood speech
less Recollecting himself, however, he re
turnd the “good evening” of the cruel Mrl—
who was doing her best to smother a laugh—
and retreated. As he reentered his curricle he
heard a merry peal of laughter, and, looking
behind him, caught a glimpse of two rosy
cheeked girls who were evidently enjoying
his confusion.
He proceeded to the home of another fair
maiden, and most unfortunately she-too had
“made other arrangements,” though, to tell
the truth —she was [in somewhat of a strait,
as to how she should get to the party. £His
next effort was equally unsuccessful, yet with
a perseverance worthy of all admiration, and
which shames the spider of Bruce, he visited
nearly every house in the village, whose halls
are wont to echo with the music of girls’ voi
ces ; but none would go with him to the par
ty. Not one, alas not one! In a fit of des
peration, he sought among the young men for
someone to occupy the despised seat, but
they laughed at him, and the questions,
“ Where did you get so much buggy ?” and
“ Does your anxious mother know you're
out?” were flung at the now crest-fallen Ma
j or. Some wag among them suggested to
him that he should seek a partner from among
the damsels in- the kitchen of his worthy friend
Mr. Black. Whether our hero deemed this
beneath his fancied dignity, or whether he ac
ted upon it and was successful as before, we
did not learn. Suffice it to say—he went
alone!
The scene of festivity was a brilliant one!
The beaux and belles of the village and vi
cinity were all congregated. Mirth and mu
sic ruled the hour. A country party is a
very different affair from a city assembly.
The former is generally a scene of wild and
boisterous fun and frolic, and so was the one
of which we write.
The principal amusement of the evening
was playing at various games, among which
there was one at least, sufficiently ludicrous
It was called “Whiffle-pin,” or “ Old man of
the house.” It is after this sort: The com
pany seat themselves around the room, each
one having some name or number as his
“own peculiar” cognomen. The “whiffle
pin, or “old man of the house,” sits on the
floor in the centre of the circle. Rising up,
he twirls himself on one leg, and exclaims,
“1 turn whiffle-pin—who turns mustard?”
Mustard then rises, and performing a similar
evolution says—“ 1 turn mustard—-who turns
pepper?” On this occasion our hero was
ticketed “No. 17,” and when he was called
out by “whiffle-pin,” he rose with great alac
rity, and cutting his flourishes at the same
moment with his challenger, their feet unfor
tunately became entangled, and “No 17” was
thrown flat on his back.
Ihe fall was attended by an explosion
which, at first, occasioned some alarm among
the ladies, but when it was discovered that it
was only the giving way of Major Bubble’s
sta} 7 s. the alarm was changed to merriment.
“Alas!” said one fair girl to another, as the
laughter somewhat subsided—“ Alas! ihe
bubble has burst!”
Poor Bubble, he was for a moment com
pletely abashed! At a rather late hour re
freshments were brought in, and the Major,
quite recovered from his discomfiture, darted
forward to distribute the plates, in which dis
tribution, however, he showed a partiality
which was remarked by all. As he was
hastening to hand the first plate to the fair
Miss M the simper on his face became
ominously intense, and unfortunately for him.
his foot caught in the flounce of a lady’s
dress: he stumbled irretriveably, and fell
headlong at the leet of the fair object of his
attention, while he poured a full tribute of
china into her satin lap. She screamed pret-
LH -but bad sufficient presence of mind not
to spill the lap-full so uncoveted. As for
Theophilus, he was the very picture of sur
prise and horror, as he rose to his knees, and
begged the lady s forgiveness, whice she gra
ciously accorded. This time the Major burst
bis stlaps! But this brief sketch will grow
to a long one if we indulge our pen—which
may not be.
• y? e i £? rty hl 'oke U P as all parties do. Ma
■l oi Bubble made repeated exertions to secure
a partner lor the return ride, but all in vain ;
and wben he found that personal application
was fruitless, he sought to accomplish the de
siren end by proxy—and here, too, lie failed.
it was a moonlight night, and merely a
Lain ol carnages, filled with the light-hearted
revellers, rolled homeward. All the vehicle*
were full, save one—the curricle of Major
Bubble. It was the last to leave the scene of
gayety. But onward it rolled, and swifter
>e. it came, with its glaring lamps, mocking
the pale moon. As it overtook the train, the
carnages, one by one, gave way, but the im
petuous Major dashed on too swiftly, and the
wheel of his light carriage caught in* that of a
stronger and heavier vehicle. ‘ The collision
was tatal to the former. It capsized, and the
horse ran furiously. Major Bubble was
■.blown out, and fell inverted into a deej