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EDITED Bl THOMAS HAYNES.
VOL. VI. NO. 10.
of
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ADVERTISEMENTS inserted at the usual rates. Sales ©f LAND, by Admi
nistrators. Executors, or Guardians, arc required by law to be held on the first Tues
day in the month, between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the after
noon, at the Court House in the county in which the property is situate. Notice of
these sales must be given in a public gazette SIXTY DAYS previous to the day o l
•ale.
Sales of NEGROES must be at public auction, on the first Tuesday of the month
between the usual hours ot sale, at the place of public sales in the county where the
letters Administration or Guardianship, may have been granted, first
giving SIXTY DAYS notice thereof, in one of the public gazettes of this State*
•ad at th » door of th© Court House where such sales arc to be held.
Notice tor the sale ot Personal Property must be given in like manner, FORTY
DAYS previous to the day of sale.
Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published FORTY'
nt mice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to selj
LAND, must be published for FOUR MONTHS.
Notice for leave to sell NEGROES, must bo published for FOUR MONTHS
before any order absolute shall be made by the Court thereon.
Notice ol Application for Letters of Administration must be published THIRTY’
DAYS.
Notic eof Application for Letters of Dismission from the Administration of an Es
tate, are required to be published monthly for SIX MONTHS.
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the Aetr- York Sunday Aetct.
THE HYPOCHONDRIAC.
by a. ai.lan, author of the drama of “ Leila.”
Davy 1) was the most confirmed hypochondriac I ever
knew. He revelled in the ridiculous. Nething seemed too'
absorb or extravagant for his imagination to conceive ; and the i
more obstinately h? clung to them, the more difficult they were
to cure. His friends and family were kept in a state of con-j
slant uneasiness and perplexity; for, no sooner had they sue- ;
ceeded in driving one vagary from his brain, than another en- '
tercd and took possession. Now he conceited that he was still
in infancy, and must needs be treated accordingly—fed with a
spoon and lullabied to sleep ; and now his nose, his arms, his
legs, or some other portion of his body had been changed to
glass, or some equally brittle material, and in spite of the evi
dence of his senses to the contrary, he would cling tenaciously
to the idea till a new crotchet kicked the old one outof the way.
Ytl tin re was a method in bis madness,” which often enabled
those who were best acquainted with him to guess the form it
was likely to assume, for they invariably remarked that his
conceits bore a strong affinity to any subject that had previous
ly excited his anger or his mirth. Thus, on reading an ac
count of the Pennsylvania election, he imagined himselfone of
the abstracted ballot boxes; and again, on the arrival of the
Great Western, he discovered that he had been transformed in
to a steamship for the Liverpool trade. We could mention
many instances of the kind, for which, probably, those who are
unacquainted with the strange nature of the disease, would sup
pose we were drawing on our own invention, instead of narrat
ing facts. How, or when he became thus afflicted, ive cannot
say; forofhis'history prior to the commercial panic of eight
een hundred and thirty-seven, we know nothing, having been I
first introduced to him about that period. He was married to
a young and lovely woman, and sufficiently well off to live on
the interest of his money, w ithout entering into business or spe
culation. In his habits, he was temperate and regular, and his
manners were gentlemanly in the extreme, when he was in the
full possession ol bis senses, although at other times his irrita- I
bilily cot the better of them. His person was rather spare,
and his face had a wobegone expression that seemed to have be
come habitual to it; for, if by chance a smile found its way to
his lips, it was instantly banished again, as if it were an tinwel- 1
come intruder. There were times—though rare when he
would indulge in mirth, but that mirth was always followed bv
on expression of deeper gloom. It was a gleam of sunshine
lost in n thunder-cloud. The numerous fancies that in turn!
took possession ofhis brain, would fill a volume with ludicrous '
m liter ; but we shall only detail a few of them, that came under
our personal observation.
1 was hastily crossing the Park one day, about this time last
ycat, when I observed 1) approaching slowly from the op-
posite direction. B >tli hands were thursl deeply into his pock
els, and hi« head hung droopinc on his breast, giving to him
the appearance ol a culprit sneaking home after receiving a I
sound flogging. There was evidently something the matter ■
with him. Perhaps he bad become a sufferer from the general I
embarrassments of the country. He did not notice me till I '
wes close upon him and then lie would have passed me without '
a recognition, had I not laid my hand upon his shoulder.
“ W liy, I) , wli it is the matter?” I exclaimed, seeing
him shrink back, as if he would fain avoid me.
“ I’m no longer worth a cent,” be drawled out, w ith a bitter
sigh.
“ Impossible !” responded 1—“ It cannot be so bad as that!
Why, I always thought you were safe enough.”
“ Aye,” said he, bitterly, “so did everybody; but it’s all a '
humbug! I’m not worth a single copper. Don’t you know
that (lie Newark shinplasters are no longer passable ?”
“ Why, yes ; but what is that to you ? I asked, with a faint
notion that he might have been speculating in them.
“Can’t yon read ?” he demanded, in the quick irritable tone
lie was accustomed to use, when he deemed that an unnecessary
question was ask' d. “ Can’t you read on my face ?—promise
to pay—mayor and corporation—fifty cents, jcc. Sir, I’m dis
honored ! —Every body rejects me ! —A shoemaker—yes, sir,
a shoemaker w ith a wife and eleven children—children starving
—wife without an under petticoat—a journeyman shoemaker
with thirteen mouths and nothing to put into them, would turn
up liis nose at me, while a tailor would only think of using me
to light liis nine-for-a-shilling segar. A 'cookee-vender would
turn me out of his shop, and an old apple-woman actually re
fused to take me this morning for a quart of peanuts. I’m
ashamed to be seen, poor, dishonored and rejected shinplaster
that I am.”
I looked in his face to see whether ho might not be jesting,
and its woful expression compelled me to turn aside my head
to avoid a laugh. “ Pho !” said I—knowing how useless it
was to oppose his conceit—“Pho! you will soon again be at
par.”
“Never!” he replied, vehemently—“never, sir! Public
confidence is gone ! —l’m nothing but a humbug ! —a cheat!
an arrant cheat, sir! —an imposition on public credulity, and
an object of universal contempt.”
“ Why IK)t returOt then> t() Newark . wi || t, e good there,”
rejoined I, not knowing what else to say.
“ Sixpence to cross the ferry, three shillings for the cars,
and another sixpence for a whetter. Nr, g„ !_ cost my whole
n?w one m <1 t l ’ ,erC “°. w " er * after all : exchanged for a
m.w one, and torn to pieces—not such a fool !—stay here an
everlasting remembrance of Newark knavery ” *
<2.? t a <r‘ g ’ lie,,,,lr . Sll,isl ' a,,,lsi, ' to llis Pockets again, and
started on at a round pace in ilm j;,., .
I stopped him. ’ direction he was going when
How long this conceit lasted, we know r i-1
meet him again for some time. Hi. neo f ° r We <l,d not
gant, was at least the source of great un ’ n "°‘ r C f lri *7
from the alarm they experienced lesH.T ia *‘° 1,18 fam ' ly ’
jif e . y 1 ncea ,est 11 sh <>uld prove fatal to his
*l„. D , and a number „f friend^.,!,| tMtl from ll,e
WwfW OT
country —had just set down to tea, w hen 1) entered, and
look his seat at the table, in moody silence. He appeared
restless and uneasy, but his wife was so accustomed to his fid
getty way, that she took no particular notice of him till after
she had helped all around. Perceiving that he touched noth
ing, she inquired, rather anxiously, whether he was ill. In
stead ot answering, he pointed to his mouth, and uttered a
strange jabbering noise through his closed lips.
“ W by, what on earth is the matter, Mr. D , with a pre-
sentiment that some absurdity was about to follow. “ What
on earth is the matter ?”
D groaned, and again began to jabber. Perceiving
that he was not understood, he burst into tears.
“ W hat does this mean?” inquired Mrs. 1) —— rising in
some alarm. “D ! D ! what is the matter?” He
took a pencil from his pocket, and wrote on the back of a let
ter—“ My lips are glued together.”
“Good Heaven !” exclaimed Mrs. D , aware, from long
experience, that her best plan was to humor him. “ I did not
perceive it before. How did it happen?”
D wrote again. “ I was observing the workmen laying
the asphaltum pavement in Broadway, when the wind blew the
smoke from the hot substance in my face. When I got home,
I found that my lips were fast.”
“ Heaven be praised ! it is not too late to soften it again,”
replied Mrs. I) , briskly. “Here, Betty, bring me a basin
ol hot w ater and a towel.” D looked al her ruefully and
shook his head. “Now, my dear,” she added, as soon as the
girl had obeyed her command, “ bend your head forward a lit
tle, while I wash I lie asphaltum from your lips.”
With the utmost gravity she proceeded to sop the mouth of
the hypochondriac with the scalding water, amid the ill-sup
pressed laughter of the company to whom the strange proceed-
I ing was a novelty. A burst which they could not control, on
perceiving how D winced under the operation, caused him
to start up, cast on them a look of withering indignation, and
rush from the room.
1 or nearly two days lie persisted in the idea that he could
not unclose his lips. He refused food : became quite indig
nant when it was offered him, and accused them of mocking
| him in his affliction. No coaxing could induce him to eat or
- speak, although he was evidently suffering from hunger most
severely, lie took to his bed complaining bitterly that in the
midst of plenty he must starve to death. At length Doctor
, H was called in and made acquainted with the facts of the
! case.
“ Aha! I see how it is!” said he, after feeling D— ’s pulse
and going through the other formalities.—“ Difficult case!—
well you applied to me in time ! —must perform an operation!
—got a chemical preparation for dissolving asphaltum !—send
you a vial!—must soak your lips every half hour to-night, and
to-morrow I will bring my instruments.”
According to promise, about dusk the doctor sent in a large
)ial, full of some harmless mixture, with directions for its im
mediate use. D had persuaded himself that nothing could
he of any service to him ; but the entreaties of his wife induced
him to try the doctor’s remedy.
“ M ell!” said the doctor when lie visited his patient next
morning, “has our wash done any good?” *
shook his head, and muttered something that sound
ed very much like “ humbug!”
Let me see ! let me see !” rejoined the doctor, examining
D ’ s mouth with great attention. “Aha! here’s a little
crack! we shall soon put all to rights now; but it will be ne
cessary to perform a slight operation. You’re not afraid of
trusting to my skill, I hope.”
D looked ruefully at the different instruments which
the doctor pulled from his pocket, and, after a few moments
hesitation, threw himself back in the bed and turned his face
down upon the pillow.
M ith the utmost difficulty he was at last persuaded to under
go an operation. His hands were fastened down and his eyes ,
bandaged. The doctor had found a decayed tooth and was de
termined to draw it. The cutting of the gum caused D I
to wince, but the doctor took the opportunity to force his mouth
open sufficiently wide for bis purpose. As he proceeded to fix
the instrument, D became restive, but the encouraging ex-
clamations ofhis wife quieted him for the moment.
“ Damn it! you have knocked my head off!” yelled D
as the tooth flew out.
“He speaks ! he speaks! Heaven be praised, you have suc
ceeded in restoring him,” exclaimed Mrs. D——, throwing
herself into D ’s arms.
D was cured, but he never forgave the doctor for the
loss of' his tooth.
Our space will only permit the narration of another short
anecdote:
“ 1 wonder what can have become of Mr. D ?” exclaimed
his wife one day, after waiting an hour beyond their usual din
ner-time. Betty, have you seen him since the morning!”
“ No, ma’am, I hav’nl seen nothing of him since he carried
the ba-ket of egg« up stairs,” replied Betty.
Eggs? why, what diil he want with eggs?” inquired Mrs.
D , in a tone of surprise.
“ Don’t know, ma’am,” said Betty, as «lie left the room.
The afternoon passed, but brought no Mr. D . Supper
time came, and his wife became alarmed. She was looking anx
iously out of the window when the girl entered, striving to sup
press her merriment.
“Oh, madam, Air. 1) is in such a curious position.—
Please to come up stairs and look at him !”
Airs. D followed the girl to the garret. There, in a
small, dark bed-chamber, which had always been used as a
lumber-room, sat Air. D , crouching down in a large
clothes-basket, and endeavoring to cover the eggs he had taken
up therein the morning.
THE CONQUEROR AND THE UPRIGHT JUDGE.
Mohammed the second being, like Itm, a very passionate
monarch, severely rebuked his architect for not having built
his mosque of the same height as “ Aya Sofiyah and also
for having cut down the columns, which were each worth
the whole tribute of Rum (Asia Minor.) The architect excu
sed himself by laying that be had reduced the two columns
three cubits each, in order to give his building more solidity
and strength against the earthquakes so common in Islambol;
and had thus made the mosque lower than Aya Sofiyah. The
emperor, not satisfied with this excuse, ordered the architect’s
hand s to be cut ofl; which was done accordingly. On the
following day the architect appeared with his family before the
tribunal of the Kazi, styled “ Islambol Alolusi,” to lay his com
plaint against the emperor, and appeal to the sentence of the
law. The Judge immediately sent bis officer to cite the em
peror to appear in court.
The conqueror, on receiving this summons, said : “The
command of the prophet’s law must be obeyed !” and putting
on his mantle and thrusting a mace into his belt, went into the
court of law. After having ghen the Selim Aleik, he was
about to seat himself in the highest place, when the Kazi said :
“Sit not down, O prince! but stand on thy feet, together with
thine adversary, who has made an appeal to the law.”
The architect then made liis complaint: “Aly lord, I am a
perfect master builder, and a skilful mathematician ; but this
man, because I made his mosque low, and cut down two ofhis
columns, lias cut ofl' my two hands, which lias ruined me, nnd
deprived me of the means of supporting my family; it is thy
part to pronounce the sentence of the noble law.”
The judge upon this, thus addressed the emperor: “What
sayest thou, prince! have you caused this man’s hands to be
cut off innocently ?”
The emperour replied : “By heaven, my lord!” this man
lowered my mosque; and for having reduced two columns of
mine, each worth the produce of Misr (Egypt,) thus robbing
iny mosque of all renown, by making it so low, I did cut ofl'
his hands: it is for thee to pronounce the sentence of the no
ble law.”
The Kazi answered : “ Prince, renowri is a misfortune ! If
a mosque be upon a plain, and low and open, worship in it is
not thereby prevented. If each column had been a precious
YIILLEDGEVII.LE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY MOttAIAG, HI AY 14, IS3».
Our Cnnncienrt—‘Our Country—Our Party.
stone its value would have been only that of a stone; but the
hands of this man which have enabled him for these forty years
to subsist by bis skilful workmanship, you have illegally "cut off.
He can henceforth do no more than attend to his domestick af
fairs. The maintenance of him ami Jiis numerous family ne
cessarily, by law, falls upon thee. What sayest thou, prince?
Sultan Mohammed answered, “Thou must pronounce the
sentence of the law.”
“This is the legal sentence,” replied the Kaxi: “If the ar
chitect requires the law to be strictly enforced, your hands must
be cut off; for if a man do an illegal act which the uoble law
doth not allow, that law decrees that he shall be requited ac
cording to his deeds.”
The Sultan then offered to grant him a pension from the
public treasury of the Mussulmans.
“No !” replied the Molla ; “ it is not lawful to take this from
the public treasury; the offence was yours :my sentence there
fore is, that from your own private purse you allow this maimed
man ten aktehahs a day.”
“It is well,” said the conqueror; “let it be twenty aktehahs
a day ; but let the cutting off his hands be legalized.”
The architect in the contentment of his heart, exclaimed,
“Be it accounted lawful in this world and the next; and hav
ing received a patent for his pension, withdrew. Sultan Mo
hammed also received a certificate of his entire acquittal. The
Kaxi then apologized for having treated him as an ordinary
suitor; pleading that the impartiality of the law requires jus
tice to be administered to all without distinction, and entreating
the emperor to seat himself on the sacred carpet.
“Effendi,” said Sultan Mohammed, angrily, “ if thou hadst
shown favour to me, saying to thyself, “This is the Sultan,”
and hadst wronged the architect, I would have broken thee
in pieces with this mace,” at the same time drawing it out from
under the skirt of his robe.
“ And if thou, prince,” said the Kazi, “hadst refused to obey
the legal sentence pronounced by me, thou wouldst have fallen
a victim to divine vengeance, for I should have delivered thee
up to be destroyed by the dragon beneath this carpet.” On
saying which he lifted up his carpet, and an enormous dragon
put forth its head, vomiting fire from its mouth. “Be still,”
said the Kazi; and again laid the carpet smooth : on which the
Sultan kissed his noble hands, wished him good day, and re
turned to his palace.
ANECDOTE OF A SICILIAN NOBLE.
The Prince Butera was one ot those splendid examples
which modern history seldom affords. He was a relic of an
cient Sicilian nobility, chivalrous and hold as the Normans,
from whom their order sprang. Hercules was he called, and
his fine athletic figure seemed formed upon the model of his
mythological namesake. He could fell to the earth a restiff
horse with one blow of his fist, break across his knee a bar of
iron an inch thick, and bend a piaster between his fingers.
One striking specimen of his coolness in the midst of danger,
had rendered him extremely popular with the inhabitants of
Palermo. In the year 1770, there was a great scarcity of
bread in that city a violent insurrection was the consequence.
The governor was compelled, in self-dence, to have recourse
to the ultima ratio ; a cannon was planted in the streets. Tiie
people rushed forward towards the gun, and the artillery-man
who held the match was abontlo fire it upon the mob, when the
Prince Butera sealing himself on the mouth of the piece as
carelessly as if throwing himself into an arm-chair, addressed
them in a speech so reasonable, and so eloquent, that the mob
fell back, the cannon was withdrawn unfired, and the blood of
the people was unshed. Nor was this the sole cause of the
prince’s popularity.
It was his custom to walk every morning on the terrace which
overlooks the Marina ; and as the gates of his palace were al
ways open to the public at day-break, he usually found congre
gated about him a very large assemblage of poor people. Up
on these occasions he used to wear a buckskin leather waistcoat,
the excessively roomy pockets of which were every morning
filled with carlims and half carlins, by his valet, every one <Ff
which disappeared before lie returned to the palace. But his
dispensations of charity were made in a manner at once pecu
liar and unnatural to him, inasmuch as he outwardly ap
peared very much disposed to knock down every poor person
who ventured to implore his benevolence; an apnearnce which,
considering his highness’s bulk and capabilities, was anything
but agreeable or soothing to the mendicants.
“ Prince,” says a poor woman, surrounded by her infant
family, “ have pity upon the poor mother of five children.”
“Five children !” answers his highness, “ what are votir five
children to me ? they are none of mine,” and then with a look
of assumed anger, he let fall a piece of money in her apron.
“ Prince,” says another, “ I have had no bread these two
days.”
“ Go along, you foolish fellow !” replies the prince, feigning
to give him a blow with his fist, which would have been enough
to feed him for a w eek, “ how can I help that ? I don’t make
bread. Why don’t you go to the baker ?” affording him al the
same moment, ample means to follow his advice. The conse
quence was, that the Prince Butera was received bv the peo
ple wherever he went with every mark of affection and respect.
One person however, complained bitterly of bis highness’s
liberality, and that was his wiaz/re r/’AoZeZ, who bv no means
approved of his indiscriminate admission of guests of all ranks
and conditions to his illustrious master’s table. The prince’s
dinners were of the first order, and notwithstanding their luxury
and magnificence, his highness literally kept open house, his
parties seldom consisting of less than twenty or thirty, of whom
seven or eight w ere generally strangers; while the greater
number of those who were not, dined as regularly with his
highness, as the most punctual customers of a most popular
table d'hote.
Among this latter class, w as one Captain Altavilla, who had
obtained his rank in the army by follow ing Cardinal Roto from
Palermo to Naples, and who had returned from Naples to
Palermo, with a pension of a thousand ducats. Unfortunate
ly, the captain, like many of bis betters, was sadly addicted to
play ; bis ill-luck at which would have rendered his income
wholly inadequate to bis expenditure, had he not hit upon two
plans, the execution of which rendered his quarter’s pay the
least important branch of his revenue.
The first of these plans was to dine every day at the prince’s
table, which, as we have already seen, was no very difficult ob
ject to achieve, since it was free to all; but the second was some
thing n little more perilous, and not quite so venal. Every
day after he had dined, the captain contrived regularly to car
ry off the silver fork and spoon, which he had used at dinner.
This very gentlemanly proceeding went on for some time with
out detection and even without the diurnal abstraction of the
articles being discovered; but profusely as his highnesses side
boards were furnished, the diinunition of stock at length be
came evident to the major-domo, and having, as servants some
times will, taken a strong aversion to the captain, his suspicions
fell upon /um; he began to watch his movements carefully •
two or three days only were required to convert those suspi
cions into certainty, and having established the fact to his en
tire satisfaction, the vigilant domestic proceeded forthwith to
inform his illustrious master of the fact.
The prince having heard the story, paused for a moment and
then said very quietly, “I don’t know—l am very sorry for it
but as long as the captain pockets only his own folk and
spoon, I have nothing to say—when he begins to walk ofl'
with those of his neighbors, I must make up my mind to do
something,” and in consequence of this extraordinary show of
lenity, the captain, to the great discomfiture of the major-domo
continued one of the constant guests at the palace of liis ex
cellency the Prince de Butera.
Balaam’s Sword.—The keeper of a museum, among other curi
osmes, exhibited an old rustv sword, which he assured the spectators,
was the same with winch Balaam slew -the ass
‘But,’said one of them, ‘if I recollect the scripture right, Balaam
did _not slay the ass, but merely wished for a sword, that ho might
. ! r "f“ >’ 0 "’ re , ''k'l't. Mister,'you’re right,’ said thc keeper,
and this is thc very identical sword that Balaam wished for.’
THOUGHTS ON LAWYERS.
BY THEODORE S. FAY.
The nominal purpose of a Court of Justice is to seek the
truth; but I question whether the truth is ever in other cases
more attacked, sneered at, brow-beaten, ridiculed, and put uut
<•1 countenance. It is the truth, which every man in his turn
finds it his interest to conceal. It is truth that every one is
alrajd of. Even the party most unequivocally in the right is
anxious to exclude the truth from the other side, lest it may
seem to contradict his own; and all the lawyers, and even the
Judge, seem as much on the watch to stop the witness’ mouth,
every two minutes, as they have been to make him open it.
Io me, one of the most ridiculous things is, a witness upon the
stand, trying, (poor fellow!} to give in his testimony. He is,
we will suppose, not iu the slightest degree interested iu either
of the parlies, and doubtless wishes them both tied together by
the neck, and dropped off the stern of one of the North river
steamboats.
He eotnes into tLe court, not voluntarily, but dragged, if he
resists, by two or three scow ling ministers of the law, who,
from the mere fact of his being presumed to know something
about the pending suit, think themselves entitled to treat him
as if be had been brought up for robbing a hen-roost. He is
forced from his business or his amusements for the purpose of
speaking the truth, and he inwardly resolves to tell the whole
story as soon as possible, and get rid of the thing. He thinks
he knows the worst. —He thinks the loss of lime, and the awk
wardness of speaking for the first time in his life iu public, are
the extent of his sufferings.—Unsuspecting victim ! He uo
sooner mounts the stand, than he finds himself at once in the
centre of a circle of enemies, and holding a position not greatly
unlike that of a prisoner in an Indian war-dance, he tries to tell
bis story.
Witness. I was going down Maiden Lane—
First Lawyer. Stop, sir.
Second Lawyer. Don’t interrupt the witness.
Third Lawyer. The witness is ours.
Fourth Lawyer, (Fiercely and indignantly,) we want the
fact.
•Judge. Let the witness tell liis story.
Witness. I was going down Maiden Laue, where 1 live—
First Lawyer. We dont want to know where vou live sir.
Sk mid Lawyer. That is a part of the testimony.
1 hird Lawyer. You can take the witness into your own
hands when we are done with him ; at present he is ours.
Wimess turns pale.
Fourth lawyer. (Sarcastically,) very well sir.
Judge. Gentlemen, I beg of you sit down.
One of the Aldermen. Officer, keep order.
Officer. (In a tone of thunder, and with a scowl of more
than oriental despotism, upon the spectators, who ain’t making
any noise that they know of) Silence.
Witness. I was going down Maiden Lane, where I reside,
as I said before, when— * •
I irst Lawyer. You dont come here to repeat what you said
before, sir- •
Second Lawyer. 1 beg—
Third Lawyer, (Starting upon his feet,) I demand.
Fourth Lawyer. 1 appeal to liis honor the Judge, to pro
tect tnefrom the impertinence of this witpess.
First, second, third, fourth lawyer and Judge together. The
witness must.
Officer. (Looking at the audience again, and in a voice of
thunder) Silence.
Judge. Gentlemen, it seems to me that the best way to
come at the truth is to let the witness go on, and I will call him
to order if he wanders from his duty. Witness!
Witness. Your honor.
Judge. Tell the plain fact of this assault—tell the jury what
you know about; remember you are here to speak the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth : raise your voice,
turn v our face to the jury. What do you know of this affair ?
The poor wretch commences again, the first, second, third
and fourth lawyer continuing to skirmish around him all the
while, like a parcel of wild Arabs fighting for the clothes of
some unhappy prisoner. So far from forgetting a chance of
saying the truth. At length bewildered out of his recollection,
frightened, insulted, and indignant; however, really, desirous
of telling the truth, he stumbles upon some inconsistency, some
trifling paradox ; accounted for at once, to every one’s satisfac
tion, by the idea that he has forgotten. But then comes the
cross examination. Then the scientific artillery of a cool, able
lawyer, sharpened by thirty years of similar practice, isbrought
to bear upon one trembling and already nervous stranger; per-.
haps, ignorant, perhaps a boy. Then comes the laugh of
judge and jury, the murmur of astonishment from the crowd,
that a person could be found degraded and base enough to say
that “ the defendant wore a little rimmed hat,” when he ac
knowledged subsequently, oft’ his guard, that the bat had “a
tolerably large rim.” Then the poor fellow, sore all over, and
not quite sure that lie will not himself be sent to the states
prison at ten year’s hard labor, for perjury before the week has
rolled away, although be is the only person in the court, who
does not, in a greater or less degree merit that punishment, is
dismissed to a bench, a few yards off, where he is obliged to
remain, to hear the lawyers, in their addresses to the jury, tear
his character to pieces, with fine turns of rhetoric and yet finer
gesticulations.
“ What gentlemen of the jury ” says the first lawyer summing
up in a tone of the deepest contempt, “what does the next wit
ness, this Mr. Bogga, say?”—Gentlemen he conies forth under
the most peculiar circumstances. A dark mystery shrouds his
motives, which I shall not endeavor to dissolve. But becomes
forward, and he takes his place upon the witness stand, with
the determined resolution to fix upon my client, the injured
Mr. Swipe, this foul and unnatural assault and battery. You
saw him,gentlemen, when I cross examined him, tremble under
my eye; you saw him hesitate and turn pale at my voice.
( The first la vyer very probably, has a voice that would intimi
date a bear.) You heard him stammer, and take back, and
not recollect. Is this gentlemen of the jury, an honest witness?
1 lie language of truth is plain and simple-—-it requires no pre
vious calcu) ition. If 1 ask you if you saw the sun set to-day,
you answer yes or no ; you do not hesitate, you do not trem
ble. Aou do not say, “ yes, I did, and in the very next breath,
“no I did not.” You do not at first tell me, “ I walked ten
miles yesterday,” and afterwards say, “ yesterday I was all
day in bed.” (Here one of the jurors put his nose by that of
anot.ier, and utter something in approbation of this argument,
ami the other one nods his head and looks at the speaker, as
much as to say, “ there is no use to elude the sagacity of this
keen sighted lawyer. The witness might have belter told the
truth.) Now, what does this witness say?
H<’commenced by telling you, gentlemen, that he lived in
Maiden Lane, that lie was going home on the day when this
ridiculous, unnatural assault is said to have taken place, that
he saw a crowd, that he approached, that he saw Mr. Swipes,
my ebe.'it, the defendant in this action, come up to the plaintill',
Mr. Wilkins, and gave him blow with a bludgeon. But, gen
tlemen, when I come to sift this plausible story, you heard him
equivocate and contradict himself. “ What sort of a hat had
Mr. Swipes on? “A black one.” “Os what breadth was
the rim ?”—“ About an inch.” He thought, doubtless, that he
was to have every thing his own way, till I brought upon the
stand to confront him, the hatter who made and sold the hat,
and who proves to you that the rim was broad. You cannot
morally doubt that the hat worn on that day, by Mr. Swipes,
was a broad brimmed hat, all the witnesses for the defendant
swear it. l\Tr. Boggs himself, when closely questioned, ac
knowledges that it might have been a broad brimmed hat.—
Next, gentlemen, the pantaloons. “What color were Mr.
Swipes pantaloons ? ‘Black,’ said this Boggs. Gentlemen,
I have produced these pantaloons in court. They have been
identified beyond the possibility of doubt. What was the re
sult? You saw yourselves, gentlemen. The pantaloons were
pepper and salt.”
A cry of admiration throughout the court room. The poor
witness unfortunately occupies a conspicuous seat, and all eyes
are fixed upon him with the most virtuous indignation. He is
calculating at what sacrifice he can wind up his business., and
P. L. ROBINSON, PROPRIETOR.
go and settle in Kentucky. The lawyer waxes triumphant,
and after a withering look at Boggs, goes on.
“ Furthermore, gentlemen, I asked this witness to describe
the Mudgeon. He could not. Had jt ivory or gold on the
handle ? He could not tell. Was there a ferule upon the end?
Did not know. Was it heavy ? Yes. Had he ever handled
it? No. How could he tell the weight of a thing which he
had never handled ? (Another buz of admiration.) Was he
ever personally acquainted with Mr. Swipes? No. Had he
ever seen him before? No. Since? No. Could he tell
whether he bad an aquiline nose or not? No. Was he not a
ftiend ol Air. Milkins? Yes, he had said the scoundrel ought
to have been ashamed of himself. Was Mr. Wilkins’ hat
knocked off No. But before he left the stand, he said he
saw the blood on the top of plaintiffs’ head.—How could he
see the blood on the top of his head, unless the hat had been
knocked off from it ?
Another Bux. The witness here rose and said,
“ Mr. Wilkins tookil off to show me.”
Officer—Silence, there!
Judge—Witness, you must not interrupt the counsel. Yon
have had your turn on the stand. You then had the opportu
nity to say whatever you pleased. If you are again guilty of
so great au indecorum, I shall be obliged to commit you.
Witness stands stupified.
xir^^ Cei down ! (in a tone of indignant command.
VVitness sits down. Officer scowls at him as if he would snap
bis head off) 1
I shall not follow the learned gentleman further. I only ap
peal to every witness that has ever been brought into a court of
justice, whether he has not found it the most difficult place in
the world to tell the truth in, and whether, when the truth was
at length told, there ever were so many attempts made to misti
ly it ? Whether so much of what every one present knew in
his heart to be the truth, could any where else be so deliberately
rejected, and whether, when this poor, belabored, mutilated,
unhappy truth, so much demanded, was at length produced, it
did not have such an aspect, so disguised, that its own mother
might not have known it?
borrowing a gridiron,
On, Paddy Mui.lowny’s Adventure in France, —A certain
old gentleman in the West of Ireland, whose love of the ridiculous
quite e<pr,i> his taste for claret and fox hunting, was wont upon
reliant festive occasions, when opportunity offered, to amuse his
It tends by drawing out one of his servants who was exceeding fond
of what he called bis travels— and in whom a gootj deal of whim,
some queer stmii s, and perhaps more than all, long and faithful ser
vices, had established a sort of right of loquacity. He was one of
these few and trusty domestics, who, if his master unlteedinglv utter
ed a rash thing in a fit of passion, would venture to set him right.
If tbo squire said, “ I’ll turn that rascal off,” my friend Pat would
say, “troth you won’t sir;” and Pat was always right, for ifanyal
tei cation arose upon the “subject muter in hand,” he was sure to
throw in some good reason, either from former service—general good
conduct—or the delinquent’s “ wife and children,” that always turn
ed the scale.
But I am digressing ; on such meiry meetings as I have alluded
to, the master alter making certain “ approaches,” as a military man
would say, as the preparatory step in laying siege to some extrava
ganza of his servant, might perchance, assail Pat thus: By the bye
Sir John, (addressing a distinguished guest,) P it has a very curious
story which something you told me to-day reminds me of. You re
member, I at, (turning to the matt, evidently pleased at the notice
thus paid to himself,) you remember the queer adventure \ou had in
lit rance.” . “Troth Ido Sir,” grins forth Pat. “What !’’ exclaims
Str John, tn feigned surprise. “ was Pat ever in France!” “Indeed,
he was,” cried my host—and Pat adds, “ay, and farther, plaze yer
honor ; “ I assure yo i Sir John,” continues my host, “Pat told me
a st yy once thatsurprised me very much, respecting the ignorance
ol tne r tench.” “Indeed,” rejoins the baronet, “ really I always
supposed the Frence to be a most accomplished people ” “Troth
then, they’re not, sir,” interrupts Pat. “ Oh, by no means” adds
imwn host, snaking liis head I -
when you were crossing the Adan . ’ vs tin master, turning to
Pat with a seducive air, and leading I ; m into the "full and true’ac
count,” (for Pat had thought fit to visit “.North Atnerikay,” for “a
rason he had,” in the autumn of the year ’98.) “Yes, sir,” says
Pat, “ the broad Atlantic,” a favorite phrase of his, which he gave
with a brogue as broad, almost, as the Atlantic itself. “It was the
time 1 was lost in crosstn’ the bread Atlantic a cornin’ home,’ began
Pat, decoyed into the recital—“whin the winds began to blow, and
sea to rowl, that you’d think the Colleen dhas, (that was her name)
would not have a mast left but would row] out of her. Well, sure
enough, the masts went by the brood, at last, and the pumps’ were
choak’d (divil choak them for that same,) and ov course the wather
gained an ut, and troth to be filled with wather is neither good for
man or baste; and she was siukin’ fast, settlin’down as the sailors
calls it, and faith I never was good at settlin’ down in my life, and 1
liked it then less nor ever: accordingly we prepared for the worst,
and put out the boat, and got a sack o’ bishkets, and a cashk o’ pork,
and a kak o’ wather, and a tin isle o’ rum aboard, and any other little
matthers we could think ov in the mortial hurry we were in—and
faith there was no time to be lost, for by daylite, the Colleen dhas
went down like a lump o’ lead, afore we were many sthrokes o’ the
oar away from her. Well, we dhrifted away all that night, and next
mornin put up a piece ov sail as well as we could, fer we darnt show
a stitch o’ canvass the night before, bekase it was blowin like bloody
murther, savin’ your presence, and sure its the wondher o’ the world
wo worn’t swallu’d alive by the ragin’sea—well, away we wint; for
more nor a week, and nothin before our two good-looking eves but
the canopy ov heaven and wide ocean—the broad Atlantic-■divil a
thing was to be seen but the sea and the sky, and though the sea and
the sky is mighty puny things in themselves, s'ill in all, yet by rnv
sowl the’re no great things when you’ve nothin’ else to look at for a
"eek together and the barest rock in the world, so it was land, would
be more welkim. And then, soon enough troth our provisions began
to run low, the bishkits, and the wather, and the rum—troth that Was
gone first of all God help uz—and oh! it was thin that starvation
began to stare uz in the face—“Oh, murther, murther, captain dar
lint,” says I, “I wish we could see land any where,” says I. “More
power to your elbow, Paddy, my boy,” says he, “ for such a good
wish, and troth its myself that wishes the same.” “Oh God grant
it,” says I, “ dear sweet queen of heaven, supposing it was only a
dissolute islands,” says I, “ inhabited wid Turks, sure they would’nt
be such bad Christians as to refuse us a bit and a sup ”
“Whist, whist, Paddy,” says the captain, “ don’t be talk'll bad
of any one,” says he, “you don’t know how soon you may want a
good word put for himself, if you should be called to quarthers in th’
other world all of a suddent,” says he. “ Thrue for you, captain
darlint,” says I—(I called him darlint, and made free wid him, vou
see bekase disthress makes uz all equal)—“thrue for you captain,
jewel; God betune uz and harm, I owe no man any spite—and troth
that was only trute. Well, the last bishkit was sarved out, and by
gor, the wather itself was all gone at last, and we passed tlw night
mighty cowid ; well, at the break o’day the sun riz most beautifully
out o’ the waves, that was as bright as silver, and as clear as crysh
thal. But it was only the more cruel upon uz, for we wor beginnin’
to feel terrible hungry ; when all at wanst I thought I spied die land;
by gor, I thought 1 felt my heart up in my throat in a ininnit, and
thunder an’ nuns, captain,” says 1, “look to leeward!” says I.
“ W hat for!’ says he. “ I think I see the land,” says I, so he ups
with his brina 'em near, (that’s what the sailors call a spy-glass, sir,)
and looks out, and, sure ’nough it was.
“ Hurra 1 ..«ys he, “we re all right now: pull awav bovs,” says
he. “ Take i voo’re nol mistaken,” says I, “ may be its only a
; < cn;>!;. rtu lint,” says I. “Oh no,” says he, “ its the
1 uid in ■'* Oh then whereabouts in the wide world are we?”
says 1. “ ,un, may he it be in Roosia, Proosia, or the German
Oceant, »ays i. “ I tit you tool,” says be, (for he had that consis
ted way with him—thinkin himself ejevorer than any one else,) “ tut
you fool,” says he, “ that’s France, says hr. “Fire an’ ouns,” savs
I, “do you tell me so—and how do you know it’s France France it
is capiant. dear ?” says 1. “ Bekase’this is the Bay o’ Bishkav we’re
in now,” says li". “Troth, I was thinkin’ so myself,” says l, “by
the rowl it has, for I often heare ov it in regird o’ that same, and
troth the likes ov it I never seen before nor sense, and with the help
o’ God never will. 1
V ell, with that my heart began to grow light, and when I seen mv
life was safe I began to grow twice hungrier nor everso says I
Captain, jewel, I wish we had a gridiron.”
“ \V hy then,” says’ be, “ thunder and turf,” says be, “ what puts
a gridiron into your head ? “ what puts a gridiron into your head 1”
“Bekase I’m starvin with the hunger,” says!. “ And sure bad
luck to you,” sa vs he, “ you could’nt ate a gridiron,” says he “ bar
rin’ you wor a Pckcmi o' the Wildherness.” says he. “ Ate a grid
iron, says I, “ och, in troth I’m not sich a ganunoeh all out as that
any how. But sure if we had a gri liron we codld dhress a beef
steak, says I. “ Arrah! hut wlnu ’ s the beef-steak to dhress.”
says lie. “ Sure, could’nt we cut a sb.ee off the pork,” savs I. “By
gor I never thought of that,” says the captain. “ Your’re a clever
It How, I addy, says he laughin. “Oh there’s many a thrue word
said tnajoke, saysl. “ Thrue foi you, Paddy,” says he. “Well,
WHO DE AO. 276.