Newspaper Page Text
m f?
I he jells are uogmg merrily , Ja le
tnd the bridesmaid ; Geoige Mowbray,
the happy bridegioom, and many oth
er persoits of distinction, are all on
their way to the chapel; and now they
ere before the altar; ;he clergyman
has now opened his book; the oride
blushes roses ; the bridegroom too,
seems all of a flurry ; he has forgotton
shim hing ; yes; the mintage procla- j
m t ion has actually been left behind.
M George Mowbray, amid notes of j
surprise and a profusion of excuses,
every one of which belies its neighbor,
leaves the party to return as fast as may
be Fifteen minutes pass ; the clergy.
mn wondering, the party in general
impatient, and the bride above all deep- j
!y agitated. A fearful presentiment; a j
r,liatlow <if coming evil distressed and
ftaiplexed the hear* of the maiden.
S'ill, faithless one! he came not. A
whole half hour passed slowly as a
hearse away: why tarries he?
•Oh! will he not come again?
Oh! will lie not come again?
No—no—he is—*
vith M:as Henrietta, laughing at the
fun, and cackling over theg-oWe/i days
of the future. Oh, man! man; thy
heart is hard as a ; barber’s block!
Will I paint the distress, the anger,
the conflicting tide of feelings that
smoothered the heart of my heroine,
on leaving the chapel after forty min
utes sojournment therein ? Nu !—and
wherefore? yon will demand, fastidious
reader. To which question I beg leave
to answer that, firs’ of all, I don’t think
I am quite able to do so, and moreover,
lengthened descriptions of rayless sor
row are not favorable to a happy diges
tion
“Had Ia brother!” muttered the en
raged coquette, “had l a brother! he
dated not have slighted me so—but
nonsense!—humbug! —I must revenge
myself!” Here the flush on her brow
was considerably deepened by the sight
of B *> ber Poffill, grinning at her from
a high tombstone—
'‘ f/tke Com is on a monument
Chuckling at grief.’
J me, however, moved on—such a
circumstance added
but a mall handful of brushwood to the
already flaming fire of her resentment.
Not yet did the exclamation from a
Congregation of little bovs, headed and
•paid oy his worship, “Make room for
ihi bride!” “Make room for the bride!’
tnateriallv add to the fuel Puffall had
the triumph Qjery—w.as not his re- I
venge too deadly for the insult offered j
him to be poetically just? No, no, for
he was a terrible man, and one of the
attributes of his omnipotence was, that
he never forgave an insnit, nor repaid
it b> a favor.
Miss Jane Grey now “lived for re
venge alone,” as the Satanic poets sing.
N.i i. sari not, readei. fair or otherwise,
J .vill not get quit of my hero by poi
son, dagger, or mysterious visitation.-
Krvenge is a plant which takes the hue
of its leaves and fruit from the soil in
winch it springs—so read on,anddeave
me not yet.’ The first step of our
damsel was again if possible to ensnate
a very Worthy and genteel young man
w- (a friend of mine, of course) —velep’
John Milnor, who had been long a hum
ble suitor at the golden wicket of the
maiden’s heart, but long since dismis
sed irnm her ntcsence by the appar
en ly successful inrods his rival, the un
graceful Mowbray, had made upon her
afTecions, This point wrs easily gain
ed !.<• poor fellow! he was wonderful
ly chop-fallen; sothat this sudden visi
ts jit mercy from one whom he
hardily deemed moral, turned his thor
ny wiltderncss into a sniilltng garden
Side by side they wore once more to
bn seen under the beams of the eve
ning star, taking their love lighted
path by the banks of'‘mine own roman
tic over;” and, wonderful to relate! >rte
•i e of the coquette’s heart under the
influence of the Blind Boy, for the first
time began to liquefy, and the pure
■feelings of the maiden’s breast to flow
benutrh his smiles Upon honor, they
were in lore—at least all the village
gossips then said so; and the sequel of
wilt s 10. they were not so
far wrong, J ,ne might have forgot
ton in rhese happv hours her vow of re
venge; but the opinion of the world had
as g>eat a • t ;hi whh her as wim most
of w The aIT oni must be wiped
away—so that die next step she took
was to nook once more the ‘wofnl
wight,’ the cause of all her pain. This,
however, was more difficult, as the
youth’s hand was caught in the gold
hag, like a monkey's in the sweetmeat
jar. Despair had almost taken the
place of hope rn the damsel’s heart;
but oh. sweet fortune! how often, when
we would ungratefully smear thee with
Gosling’s patent liquid, dost thou smile
upon us! Miss Hemieita—having gain
ed her point, and begining to wax cold
on the subject of Iyer union with Mis
te George Mombray—declined sped
fieally to fix a day lor the happy nup
tial ho'ir within six months. Mr. Mow
bray rated her with perfidy, and she
him with impatience. So that sire made
her exit by one door, and he by the
ofner, Miss Jane, through means ol
her hand maiden Annette, whom 1 have
al ready introduced to my readers, hav
ing obtained intelligence of the same
lost no time in imptovoing on the cir
cumstance; tor sho was a very Napo
leon in petticoats. A rosy-rinted note
—five or six waving silvery lines —and
a drop of pure blue sealing wax sealed
the fate of Mister George Mowbray,
The luckless trout was once more
hooked. Month? passed : that is two ;
a long period considering the double
part the damsel had to play. Mean
while, Miss Henrietta’s iove waxed yet
j again warm, tor it was like the sea
which ebbs and flows by turns; but in
vain ; for George was to lead to the al
tar once mote Miss Jane Grey, to the
wonderment of all our village gossips,
and almost to the surprise of himseif.
But where was Master John Milnor
all this time? In voluntary exile ;
banished apparently once more by the
syren of his evil lot.
The bells are ringing once more ;
the boys are shouting, and the girls
twining garlands; Jane Grey an George
Mowbray are once more before the
fount ; with the requisite witnesses and
all the paraphernalia of a bridal. The
priest has read two exceeiogly edifying
prayers, and now he has reached the
marrow of ceremony ; ‘Wilt thou have
this woman to be thy wedded wife, to
love,’ See. asked the priest of Master
George, in a full, clear, sonorous voice.
‘I will,’ answered my hero, with a slight
quaver, probably thrown in for effort ;
and a smile to his wife t'o be; who
blushed, like an angel as she is, i. e. as I
far as beauty is concerned; but this
I passed, and was succeeded by a look ol
meek kindness ; then by a malicious,
twinkle of the eye and a curl of her
finely chiseled upper lip.
• And wilt thou have this man to th y
wedded husband, to live together ;
wilt thou obey him and serve him?’ St c.
said he clergyman in turn to the lo c
ly maiden who stood blushing on,ce
more before him ; for the eventful nso
ment both to her and the other par ties
concerned had arrived.
“No!” to the surpt ise of most an l l ihe
consternation of one was her fin a re
ply.
•And wherefore, young woman,?” said
the clergyman, unused to such a scene;
and wiiy?”
“Because he is false, perjure and man!’
was the response; “and this gentleman
i to be my husband,” turnin g to my
friend John Milnor, who just then en
tered, and made another anc! most im
portant among the dramatis j jorsonae of
my tale.
Jane Grey looked crim son ; John
Milnor happv ; and Mast er George
Mowbray blue; very. Thtj clergyman
gave the maiden a Severe reprimand, to
which she submitted as weekly as a
nun; and probably to rew *rd her sin-
cere repentance, married her in anoth
er month to my friend John Milnor.—
And now when I write, although s'ill
blooming, she is the mrither of but
hum* you shall remain ignoi ant on that
point, indulgent reader!
As for Master George Mowbray, af
ter locking himself up till the mart iage
had taken place, he left our village, and
having no chance now its finger Miss
Henrietta’s gold bags ; site having on
ly loved him for spile ; was forced to
set up a small hardware store in the
‘city of brotherly lo*e,’ at the cornet
of stree- ; but that is telling.
Barber Puffall never afterwardssuc
ceeded in our village; for Mrs Milnor,
once pretty Jane Grey, never forgave
him, and,; what was worse,; ncrei
patronised him; whit h led (she being
the magnet of fasbiorn) to the total loss
of his custom; so that, one Monday
morning, he left it, *‘altogether, entire
ly,” leaving many lebts behind him,
which, however, caused the bankrupt
cy of no wholesale merchant that 1
know of; his only c ompanion* being a
wooden shaving bo:x, two old razors ;
one wanting half tli e handle ; a square
of soap, one inner g arment, a very small
bundle, swung on the end of a stick,
and that pok<td, itj a soldierly fashion,
over his shoulder. A pleasant journey
to him, and a kind farewell to you,
most courteous oi readers. VV. F.
Mt was in reference to this case of unfor
tunate or “crossed” love, I think they term
it, that some of ttie wicked wags of our vil
lage-fit was not ‘l, dear reader-I’ll die be
fore 1 own it)- took counsel of their wits, ra
ther than then • hearts, and most atrociously
prepetrated tl m following.
EPIGRAM OT l A SQUINT VG BARBER.
Upon a palli .and barber’s squinting eyes.
I looked—a r.d straight a wicktd though
arose
Though P tv sighed, “lie ne’er had seen
the skies.
Condemm *<l for ever to regard his nose.”
My ihnug'ot was this—that Nature, when
she ti mde
The sliav'rig man, was much on frolic bent,
Having tier box of patent eyes mislaid,
She gavis him odd ones, to his detriment.
A>f OTHER BREADTH.
I am a, poor man, and can just make
both ends meet by culling my coat ac
cording to the cloth. My wife is a
fashion ible woman and would sooner
be imprisoned for life than run counter
to the i nodern extravagance of the mod
ern tot I. In a moment of generosity
about b week, ago, I gave directions to
purchase a six penny calico, thinking I
could, venture seven or eight shillings
on mj* better half. But heaven bless
me, and curse, the fashion ofthedegen
erat * age. If things are permitted to
go <in in this way much longer, the
manufacturers wili be as rich as nabobs,
and, it will require the income of a Ro
j mail cardinal to keep a woman well
dressed. Two days since I missed my
w’.fc, and after searching sometime
a! tout the house, I espied in a come 1 ', a
h eap of calico, and being ■soniew hat sur
p/rised at what I thought such an un
reasonable quantity, commenced ovr
haitling it, I had run over about twenry
j yards of it, when I wss nearly frighten
! ed out of my wits by seeing the whole
mass rise at once form itself into two
distinct divisions, either of which would
cover a square rod; and to cap the cli
max of my surprise, there in the full
tide of fashionable pride my trim little
woman floated before them. She turn
ed upon me one of Irer best natured
smiles and said,
“How do you like it my dear?”
“Like it,” said I, “why I don’t like
it at all.”
“Wellit don’t suit me exactly,” she ;
replied, “it would appear fashionable,
had the sleeves another breadth!”
DEVOTED ATTACHMENT.
Habit and confinement will cause
beasts and birds of the most opposite
nature to here! together, and even be
come attached, but it is aomewhal sin
gular to see a powerfull sympathy ex
ist between animals in a state of perfect
freedom, who are almost as remote in
their genius as the bird and the fish.
A singular instance, however, is to
he seen any day in the thitd avenue, in
the devoted attachment of a fine young I
Newfoundland dog, and an old worn
out horse.
A gentleman of this city, among
many horses, lately had one that served
him long and faithfully, and being past
work, sent him down to Mr. Daniel
Flynn’s near Yorkville, to wear out the
little remainder of his life in good pas
ture. After being turned out for this
purpose Hvo or three days, a fine large
Newfoundland dog who boi t-„-~
eustomed to the veteran, missed his old
friend from his accustomed stall, and
by some strong instinct, traced him to
hi* pasture field. No sooner had he
found him than lie seemed resolved
they never again should part.
He immediately took up his quar
ters with him in the open field, and ‘ .
never left him, morning, noon or night.
This quardruped Damon and Pvihas
may be seen together any day at Flynn’s
and it is somewhat curious to observr
the care end aitenlioji vymi which the
dog watches and guards the old horse
While he grazes, his faithful friend lies
down to rest, and when he has finished
and reposes on the grass, the “watch
dog” moves around him like a sentiy
on his post, nor will he allow any one
to approach. For a time the dug was
almost starved, for his faithful alter)
dance was not observed by any who
could cater for him, but when it be
came known, not only did his ownet
permit him to follow his inclination, but
the horse’s entertainer became the dogs
provider, and now his daily meals are
taken to him in ihe field, for no coax
ing or entreaty can induce him to come
within the house, or leave his ancient
friend for even an hour. How few
such disinterested attachments can be
found among men, man boasts himself
far superior to the brute, yet how of
ten is reason (hire 'tujonjshid by in
siinct.—New Turk Traveller.
AN ADVENTURE IN ITALY.
“ I will tell you a narrow escape I
had some years ago in Tuscany. R
and myself having heard of a flight of
cocks, had gone down into the Marem
ma to shoot. You have heard of the
Maremma. It possesses an almost in
terminable extent of morass, ‘ over
grown with long, rank grasses,’ and
hillocks, as Shelley beautifully des
cribes, ‘heaped with muss-enwoven
turf,’ a wildei ness ot putridity and des
olation. It was the month of Novem
ber, before which time it is dangerous
to set foot there, for, until the first frost
even many of the fever-stricken serfs
forsake it. In the eagerness of sport
we had been led farther than we calcu
lated from our albergo, a solitary,
wretched hovel, bordering on the marsh
the abode of ihe most ghostly, yellow,
emacinated objects in human form 1
ever beheld, except some of the cav
ertr.eri, liver-worn Anglo
East Indians we left at Chelteftham.—
The sun was last settling, and we had
still two miles to make, and were coast
ing along the edge of a knowl, thickly
set with huge and speckled aloes, in
termingled here and theic with stunt
ed ilexes, and with the strawberry tree,
then bright with its globes of deep red
gold, when meihought I heard a rust
ling among the branches, and a sound
like that ot the grinding of teeth, f no
ticed it to my companion. He sudden
ly turned ashy pale, and whispered
hysterically, 1 We are near a heard of
swine!’ .
“ Vast numbers, I should have told
you, are turned out in the fall of the
leaf, to fallen here, and become so sa
vage and wild, that none but their keep
ers dare approach them, and, cased as
they are io an almost impenetrable mail
of leather, even they sometimes fall
victims to the ferocity of these b r utes.
“•It is well fur us,’ continued my
friend,‘that there is a hut within a lew j
hundred yards. Let us lose no time in
making for it.’ As he spake, the sounds
became louder, apd I saw some hun
dred hogs emerging on all sides from
the brushwood, grunting fiercely, and
gnashing their teeth in unison. They
were huge, gaunt, long-legged long,
headed, and long-backed creatures,
giants of species—spectral mon
sterns, more like starved bloodhounds
than swine.
“ They now mustered their forces in
battle array, outside the thicket, and
commenced their attack in a systemat
ic and regular concerted manner, the
veter ans of the herd directing the move
ments of the hostile band, and, by a
deeper grunt, not ill resembling the
word of command of a certain general,
de gregr fiorcus, of our acquaintance,
giving dreadful notes of preparation, as
if to spirit on the line to a charge.
“ We made our way with difficulty
through the rotton and yielding morass
leaping from turf to turfand risking by
a tatse clip. to pstmge iut „ uouuntlcss
abyss, while our blood-thirsty pursuers
with their long legs and lanky sides,
and tucked up bellies, advanced, a fear
ful phalanx, sunilunar curve, moment
ly gaining ground! My friend, who
was more accustomed to, the bogs than
myself, soon outstripped me,not daring
to look behind. Once, and once only,
did 1, and beheld them coming on like
a pack of hounds in full cry, and with
the scent breast high, and, to my hor
tor, perceived the two horns, or wings,
of thp trppp, making an etfadlor} ~iove
ment in an ever-narrowing circle, like
a regiment of cavalry bringing their
right and left shoulders forward, to out
flank, and then enclose us. I dared
not risk a second glance al my foes, but
the hoarse voices of the ringleaders ran
through the ranks, and I heard and saw
the splash of their mighty feet, as they
turned up the mud but a few yards in
my rear.
“ How I reached the hut I know not
but reach it I did, where I found my
friend leaning against the wall, breath
less with terror. The shed was rude
ly constructed of peat, and appeared to
have been long deserted, consisting on
ly of bare walls and a few rafters; but
providentially there was a door hang
ing by one hinge : this I connived to
shut just as the centre of the held reach
ed the threshold. They made a halt,
retired a few paces, and collected to
gether, as if to hold a council of war.
While they were undecided howto act.
we discharged our four baireis loaded
with small shot, from the window, at
the nearest, which slowly limping, with
a sullen grunt of disappointment, the
whole of their comrades at their heels,
retreated into the covert.
“ ‘ Thank God ! said R , when
he saw the last disappearing among the
aloes. ‘lt is but a year since a ttavei
ier, crossing the Maremma, paid for
the journey with his life. There was
not a tree to shelter him ; and though
he was a determined man, and well
armed, and no doubt made a gallant re
sistance, they hemmed him in, and de
voured him. I could show you the
spot whete the swineherds drove them
from his mangled remains; it was point
ed out to me the last time I came here.”
jporetjju*
From the Baltimore American, 17 inxt.
From Manilia, Batavia and Can
ton. — The ship Covington, Holbreek,
arrived at this port yesterday, in 142
days from Manilla. The American
are indebted to the attention of Mr G.
P Nelms, supercargo, for a memoran
dum containing the information which
follower?:]
At Manilla, when the Covington sail
ed, business was dull in being 100 early
for the season ships to make their ap
pearance. A large portion of the old
crop of sugars was on hand, which
holders were anxious to realize: they
could be. readily obtained at g4s per
picul. Other articles of export were
sea ice.
Advices from Canton to the Hth
August had been received. A letter *
of that date to Mr. N. says:—The only
news I have to give you is, that Lord
Napier, the British Superintendent of
trade, has not been acknowledged by
the Chinese authorities. By some it is
supposed a stoppage of trade will take
place, but I think otherwise. Lord
Napier has been deprived of his Com
prador and Chinese servants,, but he
has stated to his countrymen that *he
will not allow personal insult to weigh
with him; although I think he will bo
quick enough to take notice of the first
insult offered to lire trade. Two Brit
ish lrigates have just arrived. The
Logan, captain Bancroft, from Gibral
tar, is the last American arrival. Dr.
Morrison of Macao is dead.— All your
countrymen and Macao friends are
well.
The advices from Batavia are to the
24th September, They communicate
the melancholy intelligence that Mr.
Layman and Mr. Munson, the tsyn
American Missionaries w ha embarked
in Mach last from Batavia for Suma
tra, were murdered and eaten by tbo
natives of tbe Batta country, in the- in
terior of Sumatra, on the 28th July last,
Their bereaved widows were still at
Batai, waiting anxiously for an oppor
tunity to return to their native land.
Our correspondent at Marseilles,
under date of Dec. 10th, wiiies as fol
lows:—“The cholera -still rages on
board the American men of war at
Mahon. The Delaware had, on the
25th November, about 150 cases on
board, and had lost about thirty men,
but no officers. The authorities still
keep them in quarantine, notwithstand
ing that several rases are daily de
clared in the town.”—„V. Y, Mer. Ad •
vertiser , 1 6th inst
We have a letter from Sincaporc,
dated August 4th, which say**-**?