t lethargic, case-hardened, impenetrable being, of the
whole bivalvulan testaceous tribe. The following notice from
fl Philadelphia paper seems to prove, that the oysters have been
grossly slandered.
Married , at Oyster Bay, Long Island, on the 4th February,
Mr George Oyster, jun., of New Jersey, to Margaret,
daughter of Abraham Crabb, Esq., of that town.
Talk not of the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
rpl„. point where the tender and warm oysters meet, is far
more poetical. Who can now think of an oyster bed, without
be in <* overwhelmed with pleasant and thick coming fancies?
One thing is certain, there is little reason to fear that oysters
will be scarce. The New Jersey people know the value of
p 1 oyster beds, and they cultivate them with commendable
industry.
GROWTH OF THE MIND,
Tlip dissertation by this title, which occupies the whole out
side of this number, prevents us from giving as great a variety
flg we intend there shall be hereafter. Its publication will be
completed in two more numbers by devoting to it the first page
only. Its merits as a carefully written article, developing much
studv and thought on the subject, together with its clear and
perspicuous language, recommend it to the careful perusal of
all, with a guarantee that the time will be profitably employed
OUR NEXT NUMBER.
in order to complete our arrangements and afford a little time
for getting in the names of our subscribers, the next number
will not appear until the 15th inst., after which, it will be pub
lished regularly eveiy Thursday.
LOST,
A mourning Breast Pin containing Hair. The finder will be
liberally rewarded by leaving it at this office.
~ W_ sir ® ~
CIRCUIT COURT OF TENNESSEE—HIRAM RIG
GINGS’ ’SAULT AND BATTERY CASE.
Many years ago law and justice in Tennessee
were administered in a rude and fallacious man
ner. The uneducated people looked upon Courts
and the mysteries of Law, as things which they
didn’t, couldn’t, or wouldn’t understand, and
whenever they were brought up to answer for the
infringement or violation of any of the statutes,
they surrendered themselves passively to the de
cision in the case, apparently not knowing or
caring why or wherefore they were thus dealt
with. The Judge was looked upon as the head,
and front, and majesty, the “great embodiment”
of the Law itself, in whom was concentrated all
and every power, into whose capacious pocket all
hues, forfeitures, &c., found a resting place, and
to whom every unfortunate delinquent was in
debted for each mercy vouchsafed him.
It was to such a community that Judge M
administered law and justice in the Circuit Court.
One day the Judge stopped at the court house of
a small village, and found the only case to be tried
was that of Hiram Higgings for assault and Bat
tery on David Hughes.
After a few preliminaries were gone through
with, his honor requested the Sheriff to call Hi
ram Higgins into court, and upon the first sound
of his name, a tall raw-boned, stalwart fellow,
dressed in a suit of brown jeans, home-made, and
hanging loosely about his person, walked hurried
ly up in front of the Bench, and taking off* his
hat, with an awkward scrape of the right foot,
exclaimed,
“ Well, .Judge, here I is.”
“\ou are charged, Mr. Higgins,” said the Judge,
after a slight pause, “with committing assault and
battery on the person of David Hughes. What
have you to say to this charge ? Do you plead
guilty or not guilty ?”
“"Why, Judge,” said Higgins, after staring in
mute astonishment in his honor’s face for some
moments, “Why, Judge, you’ve knowed me long
enough, I should reckon, to know that I never
done nothing to be guilty of, never was guilty,
and never did plead guilty in my whole natral
horn life. I don’t know what you mean by sault
ond ha try nuthur, but es you mean to ax me es I
licked Dave Hughes, and licked him good, too, I
ses, at wunst, and without anuther word, I did ;
and by golly, he’d better toe the mark, or I’ll do
it agin.” ,
u 1 have known you for sometime Mr. Higgins,”
said the Judge, “and your character up to this
tune has been so unexceptionable, that this is the
n>t ollence for which you were ever arraigned
)o cue me. But this is a very grave offence, one
v IKI die law expressly prohibits, and, as by
your o\\ n confession, you acknowledge its com
ni 1,1 hi must, unless there are some strongly ex
tenuutmg circumstances”
ar Judge,” interrupted Higgins, “ thar, jist
t* * i lO * OUI i K ' ad bosses a minute, you’re a git
a ?i n, \ a e to ° fast now, jist wait ’till I tell
\ \ tl out the scrimage, and arterthat, what
“ ‘,u? °a * eS 18 ** right, for I b’lieves in you
know- 16 ?° me home ’” and b y Hokey, I
know, you U do the clean thing, and no mistake.”
t e ‘ u , ( & e smilingly nodded assent, for him
a n t >( V an( Higgins gave the following ac
1° ° | cause and particulars of the scrimage,
a he called the fight, between himself and Da
v,d Hughes.
S * X Wee bs ago, I was axed down to
jg t V re . Tomases house raisin’, and as the Squire
nght sort a g r b> and you always knows
carr^ 0 bim, I concluded to go down and
kve > ll P a corner, tho’its so far I knowed I’d
0 stay over night—you know the squire ;
well, prehaps we didn’t have the bustness’ raisin
that ever you went any whar to stay all night at.’
1 har was more bald-facc soaked up, and more
work did, than ever you hearn tell of. Well, I
come home the next evenin’, and arter givin’ Bet
sey a buss you might have heard a quarter of a
mile, ses I, Bess, what’s the news ? Ses she,
nothin’ Hiram, but she said it so sorrowful-like, I
knowed at wonst thar was somethin’; so, ses I,
come now Bess, thar is some news, and I must
hear it, tell me all about it now, and I’ll tell you
what we all done at the Squire’s.
Well then, ses she, Hy, thar is some news, but
il I tell you, you must promise not to get mad.—
Not a bit, ses I, go on Bess. Well, ses she, that
sneakin’ thing, Dave Hughes, is bin here sence
you’ve been gone. What did he want? sed I.—
He wasn’t courtin’ you agin, and you a honest
married woman ? Yes, he was, says she—and
her face turned as red as water-million meat—
and he insulted me too —and with that, she burst
right out a cryin’—but Hy you said you wouldn’t
git mad ! No, no, ses I, I ain’t agoin’ to git mad,
hut es 1 don’t give Dave Hughes the etarnally
darndest lickin’ when I see him, that ever you
see, my name ain’t Higgins, that’s all. Well, I
never sot eyes on the case ’till Rig’mental Muster,
when I jist walked up and pitched into him like
a Bar Dog into a four year old, without sayin’ a
word, and arter he had hallowed nuffi and they
took me off of him, ses I, now go to a decent
man’s house and insult his wife agin, will you ?
and I’ll give you something wus nor that, you
sneakin' 9 sarpent you , and so I will your honor, for
when you touches a man’s wife, you touches his
soul and body at wonst; hut that’s all, Judge, and
now I wants to know how much you charge me,
I’ve broke your law, and must pay you for it.”
Judge M , very gravely informed Higgins
that under the circumstances, he should charge
him “ Two dollars and a half” who upon laying
five half dollar pieces on the clerks desk, earnestly
inquired “if that sum would be the price of all
similar offences.”
His Honor, admonishing him, however, to keep
the peace, informed him that Two dollars and a
half was the price.
Five minutes after, Higgins, while shaking his
fist in Dave Hughes’ face, told him that “the
Judge only charged two dollars and a half for
the whipping he had received,” and he added,
“Look out, old boss, jist as soon as I git another
two and a half, I’il he down on you agin sure !” —
Spirit of the Times.
“ THE OLD JUDGE.”
The following is an extract from Judge Halburton’s late
work with the above title, and will be found equal to his sto
ries of “ Sam Slick, the Clock Maker.”
Barclay soon returned, accompanied hy Miss
Lucy Neal, the manager of the household, a fine,
healthy, blooming, good-natured country girl, of
about thirty years of age, to whom he introduced
me. After chatting a while about the storm and
other indifferent matters, she said she feared I
must find it dull to be confined so long to the
house ; and added, if I felt inclined, she would
he glad to see me after dinner in the keeping
room—an invitation which I most readily and
cheerfully accepted.
As soon as she retired Barclay said—
“ I have arranged it all for you. 1 have ordered
dinner at two o’clock, so as to enable us to spend
the whole of the afternoon below, where you will
see one of the oddest fellows in this countrv, Ste
phen Richardson, of Clements, in the county of
Annapolis. There is some drollery about him,
inexhaustible good humor, and, amid all the non
sense he talks, more quickness of perception and
shrewdness than you would at first give him credit
for. Take him altogether, he is what may be
called a regular character. If I can manage it, I
will set him and others telling stories ; for nothing
illustrates the habits, manners, and tastes of a
population more than these, their favorite topics.”
About four o’clock we joined the party of trav
ellers assembled in the privileged room of the
family. This apartment was about twenty-five
feet in length, hut disproportion ably narrow. —
The floor was painted, and not carpeted, and the
walls covered with a yellow wash. The fire
place, which was of huge dimensions, was fur
nished with a back-log that required the efforts of
two men to roll it into its bed ; and surmounted
by a mantelpiece that was graced with one of
Mr. Samuel Slick’s clocks, the upper half being
covered hy a dial-plate, and the lower portion ex
hibiting a portrait of General Washington mounted
on a white charger, with long tail and flowing
inane. The sides of the room were ornamented
with a sampler worked on canvass, and some
course, gaudy-colored prints', among which the
most conspicuous were two representing George
111 and Queen Charlottee, wearing their crowns,
and severally holding in one hand a globe and in
the other a sceptre, as if playing a game of coro
nella. In one corner was an open cupboard, fit
ting into the angle, and exhibiting the best china
and glass of the house. In front ot each win
dowsill of which faced to the south, was a stand
supporting some geraniums, monthly roses, and
ivy. The company consisted of about six or eight
persons, besides Miss Lucy and her sister. Mr.
Stephen Richardson, to whom my attention had
been previously directed, was a tall, musculai,
awkward-looking man, with a slight stoop in the
shoulder. His manners were free and easy, the
expression of his face knowing and comical, and
his dress the light-blue homespun common to the
countrv.
When we entered, a small, thin man, with a
sour, hillious face, and dressed in a suit of black
cloth, was entertaining the party with a griev
ance, for which he expressed his determination
to be avenged upon the government at the next
election. He had been tit Halifax, it seemed,
from whence he was just returning, to solicit some
little petty local office at Avlsford, where he resi
ded. to which he thought himself eminently en
titled by his valuable political partisan services,
hut which, to his dismay, he found had been dis
posed of to an earlier and more fortunate appli
cant. Loud and long were his denunciations and
complaints.
“I don't pity you a morsel,” said Stephen. —
“ The best office for a farmer is being his own
overseer, and the best fees those paid by his or
chards and fields. There is nothing so mean in
folks like you and me as oflice-seeking, unless it
is in wearing broad cloth instead of homespun,
as if a man was above his business. Now look
at me,” and he rose up and stood erect ; “ I am
six feet four in my stockings, when unravelled
and holt upright, and six feet five when stretched
out on a bench ; and, from the sole of my feet to
the crown of my head, I am dressed in the pro
duce of my own farm. I raised the flax and
hackled it, and bred the sheep and sheared the
wool that made the linen and the cloth I wear. —
lam sort of proud of it, too; for a farmer, ac
cording to my ideas of things, ought to he known
by his dress, like an officer or a parson ; and then
when folks see him know he ain’t run
up a bill at a shop, and ain’t cutting a dash in
things he han’t paid for. I’ve known some very
mean men in my time. There was Deacon Over
reach, now ; he was so mean he always carried
a hen in his gig-box when he travelled to pick up
the oats his horse wasted in the manger, and lay
an egg for his breakfast in the morning. And
then there was Hugo Himmelman, who made
his wife dig potatoes to pay for the marriage li
cense. Lawyer,” he continued, addressing him
self to Barclay, “ I must tell you that story of
Hugo, for it’s not a had one ; and good stories,
like potatoes, ain’t as plenty as they used to he
when I was a boy. Hugo is a neighbor of mine,
though considerable older than 1 be; and a mean
neighbor he is, too. Well, when he was going to
get married to Kretchen Kolp, he goes down to
parson Rogers at Digby to get a license.
“ ‘ Parson,’ says he, ‘ what’s the price of a
license ?’
“ 4 Six dollars,’ says he.
“ ‘Six dollars !’ says Hugo. ‘ That’s a dread
ful sight of money ! Couldn’t you take no less ?’
“ ‘ No,’ says he. That’s what they cost me to
the secretary’s office at Halifax.’
“ ‘ Well, how much do you ax for publishing in
church then ?’
“ 1 Nothing,’ says parson.
“ ‘ Well,’says Hugo, ‘ that’s so cheap I can’t
expect you to give no change back. I think I’ll
he published. How long does it take ?’
“ ‘ Three Sundays.’
“ ‘ Three Sundays !’ says Hugo. Well, that’s
along time, too. But three Sundays on!y make
a fortnight, after all; two for the covers and one
for the inside like ; and six dollars is a great sum
for a poor man to throw away. I must wait.’
“So off he went a jogging toward home, and a
looking about as mean as a new-sheared sheep,
when all at once a bright thought came into his
head, and hack lie went as hard as his horse could
carry him.
“ ‘Parson,’ says he, ‘l’ve changed my mind. —
Here’s the six dollars. I’ll tie the knot to-night
with my tongue that I can’t undo with my teeth.’
“ ‘Why, what in natur is the meaning of all
this ?’ says parson.
“ ‘ Why,’ says Hugo, ‘ I’ve been ciphering it i
out in my head, and its cheaper than publishing
bans, after all. You see, sir, it’s potato-digging
time ; if I wait to he called in church, her father
will have her work for nothing ; and as hands are
scarce and wages high, if I marry her to-night
she can begin to dig our own to-morrow; aud
that will pay for the license, and just seven shil
lings over ; for there ain’l a man in all Clements
that can dig and carry as many bushels in a day
as Gretchen can. And besides, fresh wives, like
fresh servants, work like smoke at first, hut they
get sarcy and lazy after awhile !’
“‘O, my!” said Miss Lucy; “did you ever
hear the heat of that? Well, I never !”
“ Now that’s what I call mean !” said Stephen.
“Mean!” said Miss Lucy, who was greatly
shocked ; “I guess it is mean ! I never heard
anything half so mean in all my horn days!”
“ Well I have then,” continued Stephen. “It
ain’t half so mean as a farmer running about the
country, dressed up in superfine broad-cloth, a
looking out for a little office. I’ll tell you what,
when situations in the country fall vacant, folks in
Halifax know it as well as can he ; for the town
is just like a salt-lick at the full of the moon, it’s
filled with stray cattle. When father and I lived
on Bear River, and turned the young stock out to
browse in the woods, we never took the trouble
to hunt them up, for they were always sure to come
to the banks at high water at the full to get a
drink of brine ; for they are great place-hunters,
are stray cattle.”
A poor poet, whose only worldly cash was a
quarter eagle, wished that, like a piece of scandal,
it would grow bigger every time it circulated.
A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE.
Tom Morton was sixty, ns sure ns a day,
And rich as a lord, but asthmatic and gray ;
To spite his relations he took a young wife,
And swore he was never so happy in life.
She was lovely and gay, he doted in pride,
And even before folks caressed his young bride;
W hile neighbors observing, remarked with a sneer,
Love matched so unwisely, won’t last half a year.
W hat money could buy or affection confer,
W itli a liberal spirit he lavished on her ;
She dressed in the finest that fashion could find,
And rode in a lundeau with footman behind.
E’er the honey moon waned, she found he was old,
And then her affection began to grow cold;
She turned peevish and sad, and looked like a fright,
For he coughed all the morning and snored all the night.
Tom saw a dark scowl on the face of the fair,
And asked with amazement what right had it there ;
“Blackfrost and spring blossoms can never ngree,
The cause my frail husband, is, you married me.”
Tom heard this avowal and bitterly sighed,
Now coaxed and then flattered, protested and cried ;
But did nothing else to relieve her distress,
And love at first little, now daily grew less.
The pride of Tom Morton was touched to the core,
In terrible anguish a huge oath he swore :
“I made you a ladv, ungrateful young witch,
My wealth decks you out ’mong the pompous and rich.”
“What are riches to me, you vain, sill)’ fool,
I’ve discovered you’re old, and love has grown cold;
I married for money, sir, not for your sake, —
Did ever a maiden such sacrifice make !
Give me an allowance, and then let us part,
That I freely may flirt with the man of my heart.”
“No, never,” said he, “till I’m laid underground,
But look, that I cut you not off with a pound.”
“Talk not in that fashion, ’tis not in your power,
Do your worst, what care I ? —the law gives me dower,
’Tis a plump one I know. —I’ve peeped at your deeds,
Then blessed be the day that I wear widow’s weeds.”
Ere a month had passed by, the saucy wife smiled,
On a gay gallant fop, young, handsome but wild ;
So Tom became jealous, and growled like a bear, —
She laughed in his face—he raged mad with despair,
One morning said he, “I will go drown myseli,”
“Too good news to he true,” said the torturing elf:
He shook her soft hand, while a tear and mined his eye,
“You shall see me no more, cruel woman, good bye.”
He ran to the river, she. shouted with glee,
“Heaven grant that the water may deep enough he :”
In an hour he returned —“I’ll make you amends,
I repent of my rage, come, kiss and be friends.”
“God bless me. old dotard, are you back again,
I prayed you died easy, my prayers were in vain,”
“The watch that I gave you on our wedding day,
I fouud in my pocket, when I went away.”
“That’s a flimsy excuse, sir, now do not look wroth,
You are welcome to take it, I part with ye both;
’Twill show the true moment you heave the last breath
Go—drowning they say, is a very quiet dentil.”
“Thou falsest of women, inhuman and vain,
I’ll live for thy torture, my pleasure thy pain ;
Thy pride I will humble, and punish thy hate,
Reduce my expenses and beggar thy state.”
That instant Tom Morton became achanged man,
And good as his promise retrenchment began ;
He sold the coach horses, the footman paid off,
Which cured him of snoring but not of his cough.
As low grew her station, her temper raged high,
She prayed for his death, but the man would not die.
Let maidens beware how they marry for gold,
For an old man may live, till a young wife grows old,
PROSPECTUS!
i msm m tee Final.
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