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PERFUMERY •
ROWLAND’S Macassar Oil,
Bears do.
Diamond Cologne,
Temple do.
Lyre do.
Lavendar Water,
Honey do.
Spirits Rose,
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March 19 23 ts
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JOHN TAYLOIL
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EXECUTOR'S HALE.
WILL BE SOLD on the first Tuesday in
June next agreeable to an order of the In
ferior court of Muscogee county, all the real
estate of Elijah Jewett, deceased, in said coun
ty, consisting ofalot in the town of Columbus,
on the corner of Randolph and Broad streets, on
which is a large two story framed house with
•tlier out houses. Terms, a credit until the2sth
December next, the purchaser giving bond with
approved security.
JOHN LOOMIS, Ex’r.
March 15th 1831 23 tds
LOOK AT THIN.
I HEREBY forwarn all persons from trading
for two notes of hand given bv myself to John
Mote, for five hundred dodars each, one due the
25th day of Decenilier 1831, the other due the
due the 25th o fDecember 1833, ns the above
notes were fraudenlly obtained Ido not in
tend to pay them tiiis 11th March 1831
1 PHILIP PLESS.
Match 19 33 ts
MISCELLANEOUS.
THE HAUNTED HOGSHEAD.
A YANKEE LEGEND.
BY RICHARD THOMSON, ESQ.
Author of li Tales of an Antiquaryetc.
“Oh, wondtrful! wonderful! and most
wonderful! and yet again wonderful! and
after that, out of all whooping/”—Sheks
peare.
ou don’t live in Boston, then, do you?
No; I calculate you are from the old coul
try, though you speak Fnglish almost cs
well as I do. Now, I’m a Kentucky mar,
and my lather was to Big-borie Creek, ij
old Kentucky, where he could father eve
ry man in the state, but I could lick mj
father. Well! when I first came to Bos
ton, I guess, I was a spry, actiVe young
fellow, and cruel tall for my age; for its a
pretty considerable long time ago, I cal
culate. So first I goes out to look fir
Uncle Ben—you’ve heard of him and hs
brown mar, I reckon—and I finds Unce
Ben at Major Hickory’s, Universal Trans
atlantic Hotel, by Charles Bay, in Eait
Boston, taking a grain of mighty fine es
egant sangaree, with Judge Dodge anl
President Pinkney the Rowdey, that buit
the powerful large log mansion-house ii
Dog’s Misery, in the salt-marshes ou
beyond Corlear’s Hook, in New-York.
I was a little hit of a favorite with illicit
Ben, and so he says to me—
“ Jonathan Wsays he, for he calls
me Jonathan W. for short; “I’ll tell yoi
w hat it is, says Uncle Ben, “you come
out mighty bright this morning, I motion
that you take a drop of whiskey-toddy or
so.”
“Oh yes, Uncle Ben,” says I; “I should
admire to have a grain, if it’s handim.”
“Considerably superb,” savs he, “it’s of
the first grade, I guess, for Major Hicko
ry keeps wonderfully lovely liquors; and
1 can tell you a genuine good story about
them, such as, I guess, you never heard
before, since you was raised.’ 4
And then he up and told such a tale,
that lie helps all crowded round him to
hear it, and swore it was better than a ser
mon, so it was. And as you’re a stranger
from the old country, and seem a right
shek-away sort of a chap, without a bit of
the gentleman about you, and are so
mighty inquisi/fae after odd stories, why
I don’t mind telling it to the ’Squire my
self; and you may depend upon it that it’s
it rs-om Uncle Ben himself, or July tete I
his old woolly-headed nigger.
You must know, then, that the Univer
sal Transatlantic Hotel was built an aw
ful long time before I was raised; though
my Uncle Ben, remembered a powerful
grand wood house that stood there before
it, which was called the Independent
Star of Colombia, kept by Jacobus Van
Soak, who came to Boston from the old
ancient; veteran Dutch settlers of New-
York. It was some time after fall in the
year, ’77, that a mighty fierce squall of
wind blew down some of the wall ofthe
house where the cellar was, quite to the
very foundation. I reckon that the old
host was a leeth bit madded at this, he j
was; though he bit in his breath, and
thought to drive in some new stakes, put J
up fresh clap-boards, and soon have it all
slick and grand again; but in so doing, as
he was taken out the piles underneath
the house, what does he find but an awful
great big barrel, and a cruel heavy one it
was, and smelled like as if it was a hogs
head of astonishingly mighty fine old an
cient rum. I’ll lay you’ll never guess
how they got it out of the cellar, where
they found it, because they never moved
it at all, I calculate; though some of the
helps and neighbors pulled and tugged at
it like natur! But the more they worked,
the more the barrel would’nt move; and
my Uuncle Ben said that mighty strange
sounds came out of it, just as if it didn’t
like to be disturbed and brought into the
light; and that it swore at the helps and
niffgars in English and Spanish, Low
German and High Dutch. At last, old
Van Soak began to be a lectlc bit afeard,
and was for covering it up again where
he found it, till my Uncle Ben vowed it
should’nt be buried without his having a
drop out of it, for he was a bold active
man, that cared for nothing, and loved a
drop of rum, or sangaree, or whiskey
toddy, or crank, or anv other fogmatic,
to his heart, he did. So down in the cel
lar he sets himself, drives a spigot into the
barrel, and draws him a glass of such
mighty fine elegant rutn, as was never
seen before in all Boston.
“Handsom ! considerably handsaw /
mighty smart rum, I guess,” says my Un
cle Ben, as he turned it down, “mild as
mother’s milk, and bright as a flash of
lightning! By the pipe of St. Nicholas, I
must have another grain!” So he filled
him another glass, and then Jacobus
plucked up heart, and he took a grain or
two, and the helps and bystanders did the
same, and they all swore it was superbly
astonishing rum, and as old as the Kaats
kill mountains, or the days of W’outer
Van Twiller, the first Dutch Governor of
New York. Well! I calculate that they
might at last he a Icetle bit staggered, for
the rum ran down like water, and they
drank about, thinking, you see, that all
the strength was gone; and as they were
in the dard cellar, they never knew that
the day was progressing powerfully fast
towards night; for now the barrel was
quiet ugain, and they began to be mighty
uieiry together. But the night came on
cruel smart and dark, 1 reckon, with a
pretty terrible loud storm; ami so they all
thought it best to keep under shelter, and
especially where such good stuff was to
he had free, gratis, for nothing, into the
bargain.
Nobody knows w hat time it was, when
they heard a mighty fierce knocking on
the top ot the barrel, and presently a
hoarse voice from the inside cried out,
“Yo, ho, there brothers! open the hatch
way and let me out!” which made them
all start, I calculate, and sent Van Soak
reeling into a dark corner ofthe cellar,
considerably out of Ins wits with fright
and stout old rum.
“Can’t open the hogshead,” cried the
helps and neighbors, in mighty great fear;
“it’s the Devil.” b
“Potstausend!” says my Uncle Ben; for
you must know that lie’s a roistering
High German:—“You’re a cowardly
crew,” says he,“that good liquors thrown
away upon.
“Thunder and storm!” called out the
voice again from the barrel, “why the
Hender don’t you unship the hatches?
Am I to stay here these hundred years?”
“Stille! mein Ilerr!” says iny Uncle
Ben, Buys he without being in the least
hit afeard, only a teeth, madded and won
dered he was; “behave yourself ban diem,
and don’t lie in such a pretty particular
considerable hurry. I’ll tell you w hat it
is; before you come out I should like to
make an enquerry of you:—Who are
you? where was you raised? how have you
got along in the wmrld? and when did
you come here? Tell me all this speedi/y,
or I shall decline of letting you out, I cal
culate.”.
“Open the hogshead brother!” said the
man in the tub, says he, “and you shall
know all, and a pretty considerable sight
more; and I’ll take inijrhty good care of
you forever, because you’re an awful
smart, right-slick-awav sort of a fellow,
and not like the cowardly land-lubbers
that have been sucking away my rum w ith
you.”
“Hole mich der Teufel!” said rnv Un
cle Ben, “but this is a real rig’lar Yan
kee spark, a tarnation stout blade, who
knows what a hold man should be: and so
by the Henker’s horns, I’ll let him out at
once.”
So, do you see, Uncle Ben made no
more ado but broke in the head ofthe bar
rel- •» .
ana the laughing and swearing in the
cask, a mighty elegant noise there while
he did it, I promise you: but at last there
came out ofthe hogshead, a short, thick
set, truculent, sailor-looking fellow, dres
sed iu the old ancient way, with dirty
slops, tarnished gold-laced hat, and blue,
stiff-skirted coat, fastened up to his throat
with a mighty sight of brass buttons,
Spanish steel pistols in i. buffalo belt, and
a swingeing cutlass by his side. He loo
ked one of the genuine privateer, bull
dog breed, and his broad sw’elled face,
where it was not red with rage, or the
good rum, was black or purple; marked,
1 reckon, with a pretty considerable many
scars, and his eyes were almost starting
out of his head.
It the helps and neighbors w r ere afeard
before, they were now astonished out
right, I calculate; and ’specially so when
the strange Sailor got out of his hogs
head, and began to lay about iimi with a
fist as hard and as big as a twelve-poun
der cannon-shot, crying like a bull-frog
in a swamp—“ Now I shall clear out! A
plague upon ye all fora crew of coward
ly, canting, lubberly knaves! I might have
been sucked dry, and staid in the barrel
forever, if your comrade had borne no
stouter a heart than you did.”
Well, I guess, that by knocking down
the helps and the neighbors he soon
made a clear ship; and then, striding up
to my Uncle Ben, who w arn’t at all a
feard, but was laughing at the fun, he
says to him, says he, “As for you brother,
you’re a man after my own kidney, so
give us your fin, and we’ll soon be sworn
friends, I warrant me.” But as soon as
he held out bis hand, Uncle Ben thought
he saw in it the mark of a red horse-shoe,
like a brand upon a nigger, which some
do say was the very stamp that the Devil
put upon Captain Kidd, when they shook
hands after burying his treasure at Bos
ton, before he was hanged.
“Hagel!” says my Uncle Ben, says he
“what that in your right hand my friend.”
“W’hat’s that to you?” said the old Sai
lor. “We mariners get many a broad
and deep red scar, without talking about
or marking them; but then we regret the
heavy red gold, and broad pieces along
with them, and that’s tarnation smart
plaster, 1 calculate.*
“Then,” says my Uuncle Ben says he,
“may make an enquerry of you? Where
were you raised ? and whose your Boss!”
“Oh!” says the Sailor, “I was born at
Nantucket, and Cape Cod, and all along
shore there, as the nigger said; and for
Captain I belong to, why, he’s the chief of
all the fierce and daring hearts which
have been in the world ever since time
began.”
“And, pray, where’s your plunder!"
says my Uncle Ben to the strange sailor;
“and how long have you been in that
hogshead?”
“Overlong, I can tell you, brother; I
thought I never was going to conie out, 1
calculate. As for iny plunder, 1 reckon I
don’t show every body iny locker; but
VOL. I—Y O. 32.
you re a bold fellow enough, and on ly
give me your paw to close the bargain,
and I’ll find your pouch w ith dollars for
life. I’ve a stout ship and comrades rea
dy for sea, ami there’s plunder every
where for lads of the knife and pistol, I
reckon; though the squeamish Lord Bella
in nt does watch them so closely.”
“Lord who?” says Uncle Ben, a leeth
bit madded and wondered.
“Why, Lord Bellamont, to be sure,”
answered the strange sailor, “the Eng
lish Governor of New-England, and Ad
miral of the seas about, under King Wil
liam the Third.”
•‘Governor and Admiral, in your teeth!”
says iny l ncle Ben again; for now bis
pluck was up, and there warn’t no daunt
ing him then; “what have we to do with
the old country, your kings, or your gov
ernors? this is the Free City of Boston,
in the Independent United States of A
meriifi, u ..j ,1... j v™ -e i
seventy-seven, I reckon. And as for W i*l.
liam the Third, I guess he w as dead long
before 1 was raised, and I’m no Cocker
ell, I’ll tell you what it is, now, my smart
fellow, you’ve got pretty considerably
drunk in that rum cask, if you’ve been
tivwre ever since them old ancient days;
and, to speak my mind plain, you’re ei
ther the Devil or Captain Kidd.—But I’d
have you to know, I’m not to be scared
by a face of clay, if you were both; lor
I’m an old Kentuck Rowdey, of Town
I'ork by the Elkiiorn; my breed’s half a
horse and half an alligator, with a cross
of the earthquake! You can’t poke your
fun at me, i calculate; and so, here goes
upon you for a viUiun, any way!”
My Uncle Ben’s pluck was now all up;
for pretty considerably madded he w as,
and could bite m his breath no longer; so
he flew upon the strange Sudor, & walk
ed into him like a flash of lightning into
a gooseberry-bush, like a mighty, smart,
aettre man as he was. It old of Ins col
lar laid my Uncle Ben, and 1 reckon they
did stoutly struggle together lor a to na
tion long time, till at last the mariner’s
coat gave way, and showed that about his
neck there was a halter, as if he bad been
only fresh cut down from the gibbet!—
Then my Uncle Ben did start back a pace
or two, when the other let fly at him with
a pretty eonsiderubte hard blow, and so
laid hiui right slick spraw ling along upon
the ground.
UncK Ben sajdjm T;r »
came to,they found themselves all stretch
ed out like dead men by the niggers of
the house, with a staved rum cask stand
ing beside them. But, now—mark you
this well—on one ol the head-boards of
the barrel was wrote, “W. R. Tin Vul
ture. 1701,” which was agreed by all to
stand for William Ktdd, the Pirate. And
July White, Uncle Ben’s woolly-headed
old nigger, said that he was once a lob
lolly-boy on board that very ship, when
she was a sort of pickaroomng privateer.
Her crew told him that she sailed from
the old country the very same year mark
ed on the cask, when Kidd was hanged at
Execution-Dock, and that they brought
his body over to be near the treasure that
he buried; and as every one knows that
Kidd was tied up twice, why, perhaps he
never died at ail, but wus kept alive in
that nnghty elegant nun cask, till my Un
cle Ben let him out again, to walk about
New-York and Boston, round Charles
Bay and Cape Cod, the Old Now and 1 :gs
Hellegate and the Hen and Chickens.
There was a fat little Dutch Parson, who
used to think that this story was only a
mighty smart table, because nobody rniild
remember seeing the Pirate besides Un
cle Ben; and he would sometinns say,
too, that they were all knocked down by
the rum and not by the Captain, though
he never told Uncle Ben so, I calculate;
for he stuck to it handsomely, and wouldn’t
bate a word of it for nobody.
W hen Uncle Ben had finished, he savs,
“Jonathan W.” suys he, “I’ll tell you w hat
it is: I’ll take it as a genuine favor if you’ll
pay Major Hickory for the sangaree and
the toddy, and we’ll be quits another day.”
And so I paid for it every cent; but w ould
you believe it? though I’ve asked him for
it a matter of twenty times, and more than
that, Uncle Ben never gave me back the
trifle that he borrowed of me from that
day to this!
A FRAGMENT.
The evening before the hap
py day that was to bless me with the hand
of Clara, I stood on the back piazza of
my father’s country seat, viewing the star
ry firmament, and admiring the order and
beauty of the objects around me. The
clear, serene air, the moon shining with
all her splendour, as though endeavoring
to rival the king of day—the cloudless &
bc-spanglcd heavens, the romantic scei e
ry around, all seem and to accord w ith the
present state o' y mind, and to allure
me forth to feast myself in meditations on
the morrow. Such an influence had
these circumstances, as well as my own
thoughts, over me, that I had uncon
sciously strayed much farther than I lmd
at first intended, and w hen J began to col
lect my thoughts, 1 found myself on the
skirts of a forest, which extended seme
distance along the back ground of my la
ther’s habitation. Fearing my absence
might create alarm, I turned hastily to
depart, w hen my purpose was arrested by
a gentle blast of wind, which bore to my
cars the sound of human voic «. At first