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M iscdlaneous.
Prom tin* (Jeurg <ui.
A CRACKER LY SAVANNAH.
I am what I am, aaul up country Si*,
To Pet(r Sandjlirtef, half foiey :
I an junt he m tu, .your leather to tan.
And O i m th ? tw>jr for to box ye !
Now keep up the fun, and wheo you are
don.,
I‘ll shew you the up-couotrjr caper,
And hull you at* clean as Sail would a
beau,
Or tear v. u to pieces like paper.
Tho’ now lam drunk I waut not for
spunk ;
The Lord knows, I am able to jirk ye,
Before twenty men could count each their
ten.
Yes, strarger, before you’d aay * Tur
key.*
But Ml tell vou a tale of a lark I did frail
La*t Sin ay—a big Irish waiter,
Who •wo'-e by old Ned, if Id grease my
head,
He*d awalkr me whole, like a ’lator ;
Then will you said I, my lark you shall
try,
Ml stand v<'U awhile, that I will ,
And if by rn> soul you should swallow me
whole,
I reckon youMI have a good pill.
To fight then I meant, so at it we went,
When up ‘■tcps a feller,od'rot him;
I‘ll take you to jail and hold you to baile
He said—with my fist then 1 shot him;
And loudly lie bawl’d for help, and he
call'd
t To some standing round for to watch
me,
But off then I broke, for thought I they‘d
soak
My jack'd and hide, if they cotch me.
Now so could 1 do, my honey with you,
For see here, l‘ua skin, bone and gris
tle,
And tough a* a not, why stranger by drot,
I*d fan you as slick as a whistle.
And O such a Uckm I‘d gie you my
chicken,
You’d know how to call me a cracker,
The Lord only know! I’d beat you 1 j
spose,
As soft as a quid of tobacco t
of the World—
There is nothing that distracts
the slumbers of a young man
bo much as s< tting up business.
Beginning the world brings
With it many serious thoughts.
The hopes ol success, the fears
of disaster, the ligaments of
tenderness, the feelings of ri
valry, all work deeply upon the
youthful mind, and render its
nights restles and uneasy.
There are some temples how
ever, that are eternally delight
ed with what may he called
beginning of ti e world. I knew
a man who began life half a
doz *n times in the course of a
few years, and each time with
a different set of rides. He
had been every thing for a time
but nothing long. In conse
quence he was a poor devil
and will very likely die a poor
devil.
There is much truth and
some point m the above little
sketch. Beginning the world,
the choosing a profession, and
choosing a wife, are three
things connected with life, of
much difficult’ and of more im
portance—Yt ung men sel
dom give either of them that
deliberation which is their
due. The happiness of this
world, and the hopes of futuri
ty are connected with their de
cision*, whilst propriety and
reputation, or a versity and
infamy are their attendant con
sequences. As far as regards
a profession a man should uev
be too hasty in his determin
ation. Almost every individu
al of the human family has by
nature a particular talent which
when brought in requisition
and applied to some exclusive
object, cannot fail to be attend
ed with commensurate success.
But the man who vainly con
ceives that lie can succeed in
every thing, seldom becomes
eminent in any. It is absuid
policy to commence a dozen
projects together, or even to be.
gin a second before the first
has been rendered permanent
ly successful. Franklin par
ticularly endeavoured to con
vince young persons of the
necessity of forethought, in
tegrity and frugality in the ear
ly career of business. 1 was
never discouraged says he, by
the seeming magnitude of my
undertakings, as I have always
thought, that one man of toler
able abilities may work great
and accomplish great affairs a
niong mankind, if he first forms
a good plan; and cutting off all
amusements and employments
that would divert his attention,
make the execution of that
plan his sole study and busi
ness. To be sure it requires
some little philosophy lor a
young mau with a taste for
pleasure, to forego all amuse
ments of youth and health for
the sake of his business or
profession, yet if she aspires
to become eminent, such a
course is actually necessary,
and whilst we ourselves ack
nowledge the intaiibility of
tliis advice, we also acknowl
edge our inability to practice it.
Matrimonial Rules and
Maxims.
i. When a young gentle
man makes you an offer, hold
yourself flattered by his pref
erence, and be proportionahiy
grateful.
3. If you accept him (which
we will suppose of course,)
study his temper and inclina
tions, that you nay better uc
commodate your own to the.n.
3. After marriage, obey bun
cheerfully, even though you
think him in error: it is better
that he should do wrong in what
he commands, than you should
do wrong in objecting to it.
4. If he flatters you, do not
forget that it is but flattery:’
think lowly of yourself and
highly of him, or at least make
him believe so.
5. If you see any imperfec
jtions in your husband (which
j there may be.) do not pride
| yourself on your penetration
in discovering them, nut on
your forbearance in not print
ing them outs strive to shew no
superiority, but in good temp-j
er.
6. Bear in mind continually, I
that you are weak and depen
dent; even if you are beautilul,;
that it adds to your weakuess
and dependence.
7. U you displease him, be
the fust to conciliate and 10
mend; there is no degradation
in seeking peace, or in shewing 1
that you love your husband
better than your triumph.
8. If misfortunes assail you,
remember that you ought to
sustain your share of the bur
den; imitate your husband’s
foititude, or shew your own
for his imitation.
9. When you rise in the
morning resolve to be cheer
ful for die dav; let your smiles
dispel his frowns.
10. ‘Ft ke pudein conceal
ing your husband’s infirmities
from others; rather than in
proclaiming them: you will on
ly be laughed at by all your
acquaintances if you tell his
faults to one.
11. Endeavor rather to save
than to spend your husband's
money; if his fortune be large,
strive to preserve it; if small,
to increase it.
t 2. Be not importunate or
obtrusive in your fondness,
and choose proper occasions
for your caresses, lest they
prove wearisome.
13. Finally, recollect al
ways that God has made you
subject to him, and that he is
your natural guardian and pro
tector; that you owe your hus
band no Jess honor than love,
and not less love than obedi
ence.
The following tender Dia
logue, with a regular climax,
will be allowed bv many to be
not entirely ficticious.
Mrs. Souchong— Suppose
we take a trip to the springs,
my dear; the weather is very
hot; the fall is coming on, and I
think I'm billious; they say
there’s a deal of tine company
there: what say you, o v sweet?
Mr.Souchong—Why honey,
you know 1 have to tread out
|my wheat for market, while
the price is up, and my corn is
getting foul, I can’t spare the
horses, so my duck, we can’t go.
Mrs Souchong—That is no
‘.objection, my love, as we have
ja spare horse, and indeed,
j dear’e you look pale;’twouldj
be of infinite service to you.
I Mr. Souchong—The spare
horse is lame, my darling, the
springs are visited for pleas
ure, not for health.
Mrs Souchong—Oh! but we
can borrow our friend Bohea’s
horse, my precious; come say
the word and I’ll get ready, my
dear.
Mr. Shouchong—l can’t af
ford it, lovey. i
Mrs Souchong—Why not
afford it, Mr. Souchong.
Mr- Souchong—because it
is h—lish expensive, Mrs. Sou
| chong.
Mrs. Souchong—Expensive
—almost every genteel family
in the country has been there r
man.
Mr Souchong—They’re all
fools then, and may go to the
Devil their own way then, wo
man.
Mrs. Souchong—l think they
haye got some sense, and are
not quite as mulish as you, sir,
Mr. Souchong—Mind how
you talk, madam.
Airs. Souchong Then if
you won’t go 1 will that’s flat,
husband.
Air. Souchong—Then if you
go, you shan’t have one cent
from me, wife.
Mrs. Souchong—l vow to
Heaven I’ll go and see if you
can hinder me.
[Exit in a furious passion.]
Aii. Souchong—(-‘grinning
horribly a ghastly smile.”)
Well! if you do go-—by——
you may walk.
G EXE UAL WANTS. *
What all want. A good
name and plenty of money.
What they sometimes get.
J o
\ sound drubbing for trying to
assist a friend out of a scrape.
What the girls want. A
young Sweetheart.
What they sometimes get.
An antiquated buck, something
on the wrong side of four or
five dozen.
Wha: the merchants want.
To see their goods going off
rapidly, and get the cash for
them.
What, they sometimes get.
V windfall, as L* p*** did
when he sold a lot of goods
and took for pay a counterfeit
check on the bank.—Consola
tion—No matter, (said Joliny)
l charged a thumping price for
them.
What mechanics want. As
much work as they can do, and
the money for it when it is done.
What they too frequently
get. A situation in a country
building, to settle for the stock
they have worked up and
trusted out.
What the farmers want. A
good crop and a ready market
j What they often get. Quite the
reverse.
i What we want ourselves.
Lots of subscribers and a plen=
ty of advertisements.
What we generally get
Plaguidly disappointed.
An enlightened damsel being
sent to a music shop hy her
master for some catgut , asham
ed to pronounce the vulgar
word and to show her gentility }
asked the shop-man for some
puss's bowels,