Brunswick advertiser. (Brunswick, Ga.) 1875-1881, November 24, 1875, Image 3

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WEDDING ANECDOTES. From Appleton’s Journal. * • A contributor sends us a collection of anecdotes of weddings, an install ment of which we give below, promis ing more to follow: When the collector of rare and cu rious specimens of insects, and flowers, and minerals, finds new objects of in terest, he sticks a pin in them, or puts them in alcohol, or labels them, and then sits down to count his collections, and see what he has actually gathered. In the same way we may stick pills m the various experiences of life, and thus collect a museum of rare speci- specimens. The present collection of wedding-anecdotes are specimens of eccentricities at this trying hour that have come across the writer’s path. We see plenty of curious epitaphs in ■cemeteries; let us look at some wed- sling-scenes as strange as any of these. A young clergyman, at the first wedding he ever had, thought it was a very good time to impress upon the couple before him the solemnity of the act. “I hope, Dennis,” he said to the coachman, with his licen. 1 • in his hand, “ you have well considered this solemn step in life.” “I hope so, your riverence,” an swered Dennis. “It’s a very important step you’re taking, Mary,” said the minister. “Yes, sir, I know it is,” replied Mary, whimpering. “Perhaps we had better wait awhile.” “ Perhaps we had, your riverence,” chimed in Dennis. The minister, hardly expecting such a personal application of his exhorta tion, and seeing the five-dollar note vanishing before his eyes, betook him self to a more cheerful aspect of the situation, and said: “Yes, of course it’s solemn and im portant, you know, but it’s a very happy time, after all, when people love each other. Shall we go on with the service ? ” “ Yes, your riverence,” they both re plied, and they were soon made one in the bends of matrimony, and that oung minister is now very careful ow he brings on the solemn view of marriage to timid couples. A party came to a clergyman’s house one evening to be married. Every thing went on harmoniously until, the woman came to the word “obey” in the service. Here a balky scene en sued. ' , ' * V .^ 7 “Never—never!” she said. ‘“I •did not know that word was in the service, and I will never say it! “Oh, dear,” remonstrated her part ner, “ do not make trouble now. Just say it—say it, even if you don’t mean it. Say it for my sake—for your own dear John’s sake!” “ Never—never! ” insisted the high- spirited dame. “ I will not say what I do not mean, and I do not mean to obey. You must go on, sir,” she added, to the clergyman, “without that word.” “That is impassible, madam, re plied the minister. “ I cannot marry you unless you promise ‘to love, cher ish, and obey ’ your husband.” “ Won’t you leave us for a little while together ? ” interceded the young man. “I think I can manage her after awhile.” So the minister went back into his study, and wrote on his sermon for an hour and a half, and finally, at a quar ter before ten o’clock, there “ . . . came a tapping— As of some one gently rapping.” and the mild-mannered Benedict in formed the parson that at last, after a long wrestling of spirit, his “dear Jane ” had consented to say “ obey.” But how that compromise was brought about, no one ever knew. I have often heard this same clergy man relate how, after a wedding-cere- monv on one occasion, which occurred in his own parlor, the husband whis pered to his bran-new bride, as they approached the Mary, have you got any small change ? ” The old Swedes’ church in Philadel phia was theYamous marrying-ground for nearly two hundred years to all the neighborhood and the churches in that vicinity. The record-book of that venerable parish is teeming with mar riages. There has to be an “exten sion” made to that department in every new register. Notes and mem oranda adorn the pages of the “wed ding-columns ” exDlanatory of the dif ferent couples. One clergyman kept a list of foreign .sailors (with a wile very probablyifcyery large port) and runaway country-girls whom he had refused to unite in matrimony because of his suspicions, or because of the lateness of the hour, or of the absence of witnesses. Colored weddings have always a richly humorous side. The colored race is-a susceptible, imitative one, and when they are fine, as at wed dings, they are generally superfine. A clergyman was called on upon one occasion to officiate at a colored wed ding. i “We assure, sah,” said the gentle manly darkey, “this yere wedding, sah, is to be very ‘appropos’—quite a la mode, sah.” “Very well,” replied the clergyman, “Iwill try to do everything in my power to gratify the wishes of the parties.” So, after dinner and dancing and supping was over, the groom’s “best man” called again on the minister, and left him a ten-dollar fee. “ I hope everything was as your friends desired it ? ” said the urbane clergyman. “Well, sah; to tell the truth, Mr. Johnson was a little disappointed,” answered the groomsman. “ Why, I took my robes,” said the minister. “ Yes, sah—it wasn’t that,” “I adhered to the rubrics of the church.” “Yes, sah, that was all right.” “I was punctual, and shook hands with the couple. What more could I do?” “ AVell, sah, Mr. Johnson he kind o’ felt hurt, you see, because you didn’t salute the bride! ” English Social Cowardice. A London correspondent of the New York Herald writes: I suppose all my English friends will feel outraged by it, but truth compels me to say that, in some respects, the English people are the greatest cowards in the world. Physical danger and suffering they will encounter readily enough, but ridicule and public disapprobation have terror for them which they dare not face. One of the most charming Englishmen I ever met was narrating to me only the other day how a young American, a common friend of both of ns, used to wear, when he first came to London, a Scotch cap in the street, and how he was finally obliged to tell him that un less he put on the orthodox stovepipe he could not accompany him. It seems that etiquette forbids a gentleman to appear in public with any other head- gear than the aforesaid stovepipe, and my English friend dared not counten ance a contravention of the law. A gallant captain of the queen’s body guard, to whom I related ,the matter, sustained his countryman,’and declared that he himself, although ’of a* profes sion which requires courage as its first essential, would not venture to show himself in Bond street oi;thepark with a soft felt hat. Pursuing my inquiries, I have found that a similar tyranny prevails in in numerable respects. Mr. Gladstone is reported to have said that a cabinet minister might better commit any blunder rather than have his front door opened by a maid servant. Cus tom demands that a man shall be employed for that duty, and whoever infringes the custom becomes an out cast at once. So, too, the carry ing of parcels in the street by ladies of gSfvflemen is forbidden, and I have, no doubt, been set down as. a lunatic by shopkeepers ftiahy a time, because I would insist upon taking home my purchases in my own hands. I believe an exception Is made in the case of books, provided they be not wrapped up in paper. These may be carried without loss of caste, but everything else is a mark of infamy. To walk with the coat unbuttoned in front is likewise improper, and is regarded very much as walking without, any' coat at. ail. Nor may a gentleman, not, in business, wear a sack coat, in London. No matter how hot the weather may be, his outer garment must be a frock coat buttoned up as I have mentioned. Only in the country, and while trav eling, is luxury of looseness and com fort permitted. The Elephant, Whale, and Seal. The tremendous warfare upon the elephant for the purpose of supplying Europe with trinkets and billiard balls may prove to be a national calamity to some parts of Africa. In those dis tricts where cattle are destroyed by the Tsetse fly, the elephant is the only animal which is available as a beast of burden, and its extermination, which is progressing steadily, will be a severe blow to such districts. The war on this useful creature would be prose cuted much more vigorously were it not for the skill with which commer cial frauds are perpetrated nowadays. Real ivory is rarely used in the han dles of umbrellas, canes, and parasols, which are fitted with “ivory” that lived in the legs of horses and cattle, and the demand for elephants’ tusks is consequently kept down to certain f urposes for which it has no substitute, f something can be found to replace ivory in the manufacture of billiard balls, the elephant can obtain a respite which may be serviceable to his preservation as the discovery of petro leum has been to that of the whale. Reports from sea captains tend to show a gratifying increase in the number of whales seen in almost all seas. Fif teen years of rest has enabled nature to repair the ravages which the per sistent pursuit of the animal by large fleets had made in its numbers. This rest does not appear to be seriously threatened by a revival of the whale fishery in anything like its former pro portions, though if the fleets were to set out once more, they would find chances for a good catch once more restored. But the demand for whale oil will hardly return again, and if something could be discovered which would give that exact elasticity which makes ivory so admirably fitted for the the billiard player’s use, it is probable that the elephant too might re-estab lish its former numbers. The demand for both the above animals rest on what may be considered as absolute require ments which can hardly be satisfied oth erwise; but war almost of an extermin ating character is waged upon a third —the seal—merely to supply the de mands of fashion. The seal-skin sacques of ladies are pretty, but they are not either healthy or comfortable for more than a very few weeks of the year. A change in the fashion may release the seal to a large extent from the pursuit now carried on against him. The ladies in particular will be glad to know just how things are conducted mjja lodge o* Freemasons. A pamphlet under the sanction of the bishop of Toulouse, has been Issued and exten sively circulated, which declares that the Freemasons are possessed of a Sa tanic secret; that they perform a mock ery of the mass on an altar lighted by six candles; that every member, after spitting on the crucifix, tramples it be neath his feet; and that, at the con elusion of the ceremony, every one as cends the altar and strikes the^ holy sacrament with a poniard. A Quiet Smoke. Julian Hawthorn ej in W“SHIdtCW-" titled “A Peaceful Pipe,” says: Reader, I were unmannerly to talk thee down and not to offer thee a smoke for recom pense. There lies my pipe on the little stand between the windows.- The Jap anese tobacco-box, carved in cunning figures from a section of giant bamboo, stands guard behind it. One flank is defended by an oddly designed ash' re ceiver: an ass’s head full of matches pro tects the other. Over ail is shed a genial glow from the crimson cloth, gold-edged, which drapes the stand and fraternizes jovially with the afternoon sunshine. The pipe itself is of unusual size, carved into the likeness of a human face; a very peculiar face, which pro vokes at once a smile and a sigh. In all these years I have not wearied of it, for it is full of ever fresh interest and suggestion. The features are shaped by a hold hand but guided with mas- terlyskill as well as profound knowledge and feeling. Uglier the face could not well be, but with an ugliness thoroughly human. A brow low and projecting, the foundation of a pair of curling ram’s horns; eyes large, deep-set, ex pressive of pathetic weakness; nose aquiline, albeit broad and flattened; a thick, projecting upper lip, and tim orous, retreating chm. A weak smile glimmers over the features, not broad, hardly mirthful; rather as if striving to reflect the merriment which their un- gainlincss might excite. Whoever de signed this pipe was an artist, and one who had looked into the human heart. Well, pick him up and fill his empty head with brains from the tobacco-box. Tobacco is all his intellect, and smoke the sole manifestation of the enkindle- ment thereof; yet how many orators, think you, or authors, or pulpit min isters even, have the art or power to soothe, beguile, inspire, that this un demonstrative but subtly i>otent en chanter possesses? He never speaks; the greater part of his life he lies cold and dead upon the table; but the brief hours of his life are full of fervent fire. The oftener we are under the spell of his voiceless eloquence the oftener arises the longing to yield to it again; his mo notony never bores us because the very breath of his life comes and goes abso lutely at our own command. Fill full and press down hard; there must be no empty chambers in this occiput. Now a match from the ass’s head, which we will scratch upon the under side of the mantelpiece yonder; so to do is one of the universal instincts of man’s nature, and were mantelpieces polished under neath it would be a general calamity. Blue burns the match, then yellow; we draw the flame downward through the pipe-bowl, and straightway up rises the brown tobacco into a glowing mound. In the same moment the first smoke- cloud issues from our lips and the pipe is lit. We seek the easy-chair, and gently yield ourself to its embrace. No reading, no writing; the true, smoker will not so profane his enjoyment. Smoking is an elevated mental and psychological pleasure; he who finds in it merely an assistance to digestion or the gratification of a morbid craving is unworthy the brotherhood.” Omelet.—Few articles of food are so readily attainable, attractive in ap pearance and so quickly cooked as omelets. A good and economical emelet is made with four eggs well heaten and added to one cup of milk, into which has been stirred one table- spoonful of pounded cracker and one smaii teaspoonful of Hour. Stir the mixture well together just before pour ing it on the well buttered griddle, which should have a strong flavor of scorched butter. Turn it as soon as it begins to “set” around the edge with a wide-bladed knife, fold it over once, and then again, and at once lift the griddle and turn the omelet upon a small plate. It will, of course, be of four thicknesses.