YANKEE NOTIONS YANKEE NOTIONS A MEDLEY. BY TIMO. TITTERWELL, ESfJ. -, ioi-at^ Just a bit of cold beef, a slice of bread and ale. Walk in gentlemen.— Old Play. BOSTON: OTIS, BROADERS AND COMPANY. 1838. Mm Entered according to Act of Congregs in the year 1837, By Otis. Broaders & Co. in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 17 ^ f/3 Press of Tuttle, Dennett & Chisholm — 17 School Street. PREFACE. Prefaces, gentle reader, are com- monly tiresome things : the less therefore I say in this part, the better. But a preface there must be to my book, as the neglect of such an introductory salutation would be like not making a bow on going into company : and as Don Quixote re- marks, ''there is nothing cheaper than ! civility." \ I have written this book for many rea- sons, every one of which you may be sure of, in five minutes guessing. As to the character of it, I may as well inform the reader in the very outset, that it is not designed to be popular, or consonant to the reigning taste of our reading and VI PREFACE. writing community. Most of the books now written among us, exhort people to wear long faces, save their money, cramp their souls, starve their bodies, besot their intellects, and be most dismally wise in all sorts of cool, calculating ways. Now the reader will find nothing of this sort in the following work ; therefore his best way will be to throw it aside at once, in case he expects me to follow in the track of our great American authors. 1 frankly confess that I lack both the am- bition and the ability to imitate the pro- found philosophy of "Moral Hydrosta- ticks," the sentimental beauties of " Kitty Spriggins," and the moral sublimity of '*My Mother's Pewter Porringer.'' No, gentle reader, I hold with old King Solomon, that if there be a time to weep, there is also a time to laugh ; and in my opinion this is the very time. I shall do PREFACE. Vll my best to make you merry ; laugh there- fore while you may. The worst thing for a man's health is melancholy, but a good joke helps digestion and promotes longevi- ty. A good joke, like a good sherris sack, hath a twofold operation. It ascends me into the brain ; dries me there all the foolish and dull and crudy vapors which environ it ; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, delectable shapes, which acting slily and sympa- thetically upon the corners of the mouth, produce hearty, jovial, honest laughter. The other property of your excellent joke is, the warming of the blood, which before, cold and settled, left the face long, the heart lumpish, the looks dump- ish, and the whole inward and outward man most dismally frumpish ; — all which are the badge of pusillanimity, cynical sourness, and pseudo-sapient self-conceit. Vlll PREFACE. But the joke warms it, and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme, mollify the heart, tickle the ribs, expand the pericardium, inspirit the lungs, light up the bosom, clear the oesophagus, lu- bricate the tongue, inspire the brain, sublimate the cerebellum, titillate the skull-bone, vivify the spiral marrow and quicken the whole nervous system : so that man being jolly, becometh perforce, generous, forgiving, liberal, communica- tive, frank, inquisitive, sympathetic, hu- mane and pious : and doeth noble deeds without end. And thus goodness, mer- cy, munificence, public spirit, patriotism, and the whole host of social virtues and christian charities come of joking. If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them, should be to forswear doleful dumps and addict themselves to fun. PREFACE. IX But I grieve to say, gentle reader, people are not half so merry as they used to be. Alas ! how much occasion have we to exclaim with Panurge, '' Toutes les bonnes coutumes se per dent : le monde ne fait plus que rever .' " In times when our old grandmothers wore gold beads, hoop petticoats, and high-heeled shoes, folks were vastly more jovial than at present. They did not look upon it as vulgar to go a frolic, immoral to laugh, or suicidal to eat and drink what was comfortable ; — honest souls, they knew nothing of the march of intellect, and had no transcendental wiseacres to give them lectures against common sense, and teach them to be metaphysically misera- ble, or starve them by scientific rules, or stiffen their morality with any ''three experiments of starching." I would give many a sugar-cane To see three-comer'd hats again. I Now this decline of merriment has been the cause of nine tenths of all the evils we suffer at the present day. What makes people dyspeptical, hypochondria- cal, apoplectic, envious, rabid, fanatical, factious, quarrelsome, selfish, consump- tive and short-lived ? The doctors say this and that, but they know nothing about it. Politicians and metaphysiqians reason and speculate, but they cannot find out. The true cause is that afore- mentioned chilliness of the blood, occa- sioned by the want of good merriment : nothing else, depend upon it : for since good jollity has declined, nothing has gone on rightly among us. How came the heroes of seventysix to fight so valiant- ly to the tune of Yankee Doodle ? — Why simply because Yankee Doodle is a jolly, jigging, mirth-exciting tune. Q,uien canta, sus males espanta. PREFACE. XI Gentle reader, take my word for it, — food is necessary to life, whatever march- of-intellect folks and quack doctors may say to the contrary. Mirth is necessary to happiness, whatever your vinegar- faced, puritanical wiseacres may preach about the moral beauty of melancholy, and the delights of being dismal. I do seriously advise you, reader, not to starve yourself, not to hang yourself, — my life for yours ; — and not to believe that starvation and suicide are the great pur- poses of human life, although these prin- ciples are so strongly inculcated by the moral reformers and march-of-mind fana- tics, who are attempting to grind the world over anew with the gimcrack ma- chinery of their crazy systems. No sys- tem is worth a cherry-stone but this — Laugh when you can : — be sober when you must, For doleful dumps soon turn a man to dust. If any man finds fault with it, and longs, X" PREFACE. like Master Simon, for a three-legged stool to be melancholy upon ; — much good may it do him. The worst I wish him for his perversity, is that he may join a temperance society, and be soused in cold water till he is seven times cod- dled. Gentle reader, I have tried my best to be original in the following pages, by which you will probably understand that I have not stolen above half of the ma- terials. ''Convey, the wise it call.*' Original, did I say ? — How could I hope for success, knowing that five hundred thousand persons have written stories before me, and used up everything ? Nevertheless, should any wiseacre pre- tend to discover that my book is an imitation of Robinson Crusoe, Tristram Shandy, Clarissa Harlowe, Goody Two Shoes, or the Pilgrim's Progress, I must PREFACE. XIU needs tell him, he is under a very great mistake. Perhaps too, you expect me to apolo- gize for this publication, and to declare, by way of deprecating criticism, that I think very meanly of the work. I shall do no such thing. First because you would not believe me. Secondly, be- cause I do not believe so myself Truly, if I had not some good opinion of the book, I should not send it to the press, and hazard the publisher's cash and my own comfort. To speak the plain truth, which a pre- face rarely does, I shall be quite as much astonished as grieved, to learn a twelve- month hence, that the greater part of this edition has been used to singe tur- keys or burn a sooty chimney. Yet any critic is at liberty to find fault with the book ; and when he tells me that he XIV PREFACE. finds the work full of blemishes, the in- vention feeble, the style poor, and the sentiments trivial, I have an answer ready by telling him that I knew all this be- fore ; and like Steele in the Tatler, let me say, " if anything in this work is found to be particularly dull, the reader is informed there is a design in it." I have endeavored to serve up a variety of dishes, to please a variety of tastes. Still if any there be, who choose to travel from Dan to Beersheba, and call it all barren, I must e'en take my leave of them as the Archbishop did of the un- lucky Gil Bias, wishing them all manner of happiness and a better taste. I am, Gentle reader. Yours truly, TIMO. TITTERWELL. Merry-Go-Nimble Court — No. 2, round the corner, } Next door to the fat man's. \ CONTENTS Sonnet to Mirth, - - - - 17 My First and Last Speech in the General Court, 18 Biography of a Broomstic-k, - - - 84 Ode to the South Pole, - - - 66 The Age of Wonders, . - - 69 Our Singing School, _ . ^ 76 Benoni Burdock, - - - - 94 Death and Doctor Sawdust, - - 101 Thoughts on Seeing Ghosts, - - - 111 Josh Beanpole's Courtship, - - 119 Metaphysics, - - - - - 136 Rime of the Ancient Pedler, - - 146 Voyage of Discovery through the Streets of Boston, - - - - - 158 The Science of Starvation, - - 165 Decline and Fall of the City of Dogtovi^n, - 173 Proceedings of the Society for the Diffusion of Useless Knowledge, - - - 18S XVI CONTENTS. Boston Lyrics, - - - - 196 Bob Lee. A Tale, - - - - 198 Horace in Boston, Epodon Od. ii. - 221 The Dead Set, - - . - 225 Horace in Boston, Lib. 2. Od. xvi. - 239 The Two Moschetoes. - - - 242 L' Envoi, - - - ^ - 256 SONNET TO MIRTH. Come, gentle spirit of ethereal kind, Nymph of the radiant brow, whose rosy smile With soft enchantment sweetly could beguile To frolic fancy, Shakspeahe's glorious mind. Goddess, whose witching spell has intertwin'd Dull mortal clay with fire from heavenly skies ; Thou cherub sprite, whose sweet and sunny eyes Brighten'd the dungeon where Cervantes pined. Grant me a draught from thy life-kindling bowl ; Around my pen flit hovering, and inspire With strains of sparkling joy my genial soul, And fill my brain with fun-provoking fire ; Come, and my glowing heart shall wanton free, And flow a fountain of perennial glee. MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH IN THE GENERAL COURT. BY TOBIAS TTJRNIPTOP, EX-REPKESENTATIVE FROM THE TOWN OF saUASHBOROUGH. If I live a thousand years, I shall never forget the day I was chosen representative. Isaac Longlegs ran himself out of a year's growth to bring me the news, for I staid away from town meeting out of dignity, as the way is, being a candidate. At first I could n't be- lieve it, though when I spied Isaac coming round Slouch's corner with his coat-tails flapping in the wind, and pulling straight a- head for our house, I felt certain that some- thing was the matter, and my heart began to bump, bump so, under my jacket, that 't was a wonder it did nH knock a button off. How- ever, I put on a bold face, and when Isaac came bolting into the house, I pretended not to be thinking about it. " Lieutenant Turniptop ! " says Isaac, '' hah, hah ! you 've got the election ! " MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH, ETC. 19 " Got what? " says I, pretending to be sur- prised, in a coolish sort of a way. " Got the election ! " says he, " all hollow; you 've got a majority of thirteen — a clear majority — clean, smack-smooth, and no two words about it ! " " Pooh ! " says I, trying to keep cool, though at the same time I felt all over — I can't tell how, only my skin did n't seem to fit me. " Pooh ! " says I again ; but the idea of going into public life, and being called " Squire Turniptop," was almost too much for me. I seemed to feel as if 1 was standing on the tip-top of the north pole, with my head above the clouds, the sun on one side and the moon on the other. " Got the election ] " says I ; " ahem ! hem ! hem ! " And so I tried to put on a proper dignity for the occa- sion, but 't was hard work. " Got a majori- ty?" says I once more. " As sure as a gun," says Isaac, '' I heard it with my own ears. Squire Dobbs read it off to the whole meeting — ' Tobias Turniptop has fifty nine, and — is — chosen !' " I thought I should have choked; six mil- lions of glorious ideas seemed to be swelling up all at a time within me. 1 had just been reading Doctor Growler's sermon on the end 20 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH of the world, but now I thought the world was just beginning. " You 're representative to the Gineral Court ! " said Isaac, striking his forefinger into the palm of his left hand, with as much emphasis as if a new world had been created. I felt more magnanimous than ever. " I shan't accept," said I. (The Lord pardon me for lying.) "Shan't accept!" screamed out Isaac, in the greatest amazement, with his great goggle eyes staring out of his head. ''Shall I go back and tell them so?" "I mean I'll take it into consideration," said I, trying to look as important as I could. " It 's an office of great responsibility, Isaac," said I, '' but I '11 think of it, and after due deliberation — if my constituents insist upon my going — Isaac, what '11 you take to^ drink 7 " --^^---— ---=^^-^--— ^^ I could not shut my eyes to sleep all that night, and did nothing but think of the General Court, and how I should look in the great hall of the statehouse, marching up to my seat, to take possession. I determined right off, to have a bran new blue coat with brass buttons ; but on second thought^ I remembered hearing Colonel Crabapple say that the mem- IN THE GENERAL COURT. 21 Ders wore their wrappers. So I concluded that my pepper and salt coat with the blue satinet pantaloons, would do very well. I decided though, to have my drab hat new ironed, and countermanded the orders for the cowhide boots, because kip-skin would be more gen- teel. In addition to this, because men in public life should be liberal, and make a more respectable appearance than common folks, I did n't hesitate long in making up my mind about having a watch chain and an imitation breast-pin. •' The check handkerchief," thinks I to myself, " is as good as new; and my pigtail queue will look splendidly if the old ribbon is a little scoured ? " It can't be described how much the affairs of the nation occupied my mind all the next day and three weeks afterwards. Ensign Shute came to see me about the Byfield pigs, but I couldn't talk of anything but my legis- lative responsibilities. •' The critters beat all natur' for squealing," says he, " but they cut capitally to pork." — "Ay," says I, "there must be a quorum before we can do any bus- iness." — ■ " The old grunter," says he, " will soon be fat enough to kill." — " Yes," says 1, " the speaker has the casting vote." — "Your new pig-pen," says he, " will hold 'em all." 22 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH — ''I shall take my seat," says I, '' and be sworn in, according to the constitution." — *' What 's your opinion of corn-cobs?" says he. '' The governor and council will settle that," says I. The concerns of the whole commonwealth seemed to be resting all on my shoulders as heavy as a fiftysix, and everything I heard or saw made me think of the dignity of my office. When I met a flock of geese on the schoolhouse green with Deacon Dogskin's old gander at the head, " There," says I, " goes the speaker and all the honorable members." This was talked of up and down the town, as a proof that I felt a proper responsibility ; and Simon Sly said the comparison of the geese was capital. I thought so too. Every- body wished me joy of my election, and seemed to expect great things ; which I did not fail to lay to heart. So having the eyes of the whole community upon me, I could n't help seeing that nothing would satisfy them if I did not do something for the credit of the town. Squire Dobbs, the chairman of our selectmen, preached me a long lecture on responsibility ; " Lieutenant Turniptop," says he, "I hope you '11 keep up the reputation of Squashborough." IN THE GENERAL COURT. 23 " I hope I shall, Squire," says I, holding up my head, for I felt my dignity rising. " It 's a highly responsible office, this go- ing to the Gineral Court," says he. ''I 'm altogether aware of that," says I, looking serious ; " I 'm aware of that, totally and officially." '^ I 'm glad you feel responsible," says he. "I 'm bold to say that I do feel the respon- sibihty," says I — '' and I feel more and more responsible, the more I think of it." " Squashborough," says the Squire, " has always been a credit to the common- wealth — " ^' Who doubts it? " says I. '' And a credit to the Gineral Court," says he. '^ Ahem ! " says I. " I hope you '11 let 'em know what 's what," says he. "T guess I know a thing or two," says I. " But," says the Squire, " a representative can't do his duty to his constituents without knowing the constitution. It 's my opinion you ought not to vote for the dog-tax." " That 's a matter that calls for due delib- eration," says I. So I went home and began to prepare for- my legislative duties. I studi- 24 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH ed the statute on cart-wheels, and the act n addition to an act entitled an act. People may [sit in their chimney-corners and imagine it 's an easy thing to be a repre- sentative, but this is a very great mistake. For three weeks I felt like a toad under a harrow, such a weight of responsibility as I felt on thinking of my duties to my constitu- ents. But when I came to think how much I was expected to do for the credit -of the town, it was overwhelming. All the repre- sentatives in our part of the county had done great things for their constituents, and I was determined not to do less. I resolved, there- fore, on the very first consideration, to stick to the following scheme. I To make a speech. To make a motion for a bank in Squash- borough. I To move that all salaries be cut down one i half except the pay of the representatives. To second any motion for adjournment, — And I Always to vote against the Boston mem- I bers. As to the speech, though I had not exactly made up my mind about the subject of it, yet I took care to have it all written before hand. IN THE GENERAL COURT, 25 This was not so difficult as some folks may think; for, as it was all about my constitu- ents and responsibility and Bunker Hill and heroes of seventysix and dying for liberty, it would do for any purpose with a few words tucked in here and there. After I had got it well by heart, I went down in Cranberry Swamp, out of hearing and sight of anybody, and delivered it off, to see how it would go. It went off in capital style till I got nearly through, when just as 1 was saying, " Mr Speaker, here I stand for the Constitution," Tom Thumper's old he-goat popped out of the bushes behind, and gave me such a butt in the rear that I was forced to make an ad- journment to the other side of the fence, to finish it. After full trial I thought best to write it over again, and put in more respon- sibility, with something about " fought, bled and died." When the time came for me to set off for Boston, you may depend upon it, I was all of a twitter. In fact I did not exactly know whether I was on my head or my heels. All Squashborough was alive : the whole town came to see me set out. They all gave me strict charge to stand up for my constituents and vote down the Boston members. I pro- 26 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH mised them I would, '' for I 'm sensible of my responsibility," says I. I promised besides to move heaven and earth to do something for Squashborough. In short, I promised everything, because a representative could not do less. At last I got to Boston ; and being in good season, I had three whole days to myself be- fore the session opened. By way of doing business I went round to all the shops, pre- tending I wanted to buy a silk handkerchief. I managed it so as not to spend anything, though the shopkeepers were mighty sharp, trying to hook me for a bargain ; but I had my eye teeth cut, and took care never to offer within ninepence of the first cost. Sometimes they talked saucy in a joking kind of a way, if I happened to go more than three times to the same shop ; but when I told them I be- longed to the General Court, it struck them all of a heap, and they did not dare to do any- thing but make faces to one another. I think I was down upon them there. The day I took my seat was a day of all the days in the year ! I shall never forget it. I thought I had never lived till then. Giles Elderberry's exaltation when he was made hogreeve, was nothing to it. As for the pro- IN THE GENERAL COURT. 27 cession — that beat cock-fighting ! I treated myself to half a sheet of gingerbread, for I felt as if my purse would hold out forever. How- ever, I can't describe everything. We were sworn in, and I took my seat, though I say it myself. I took my seat : all Boston was there to see me do it. What a weight of responsi- bihty I felt ! It beats all nature to see what a difficulty there is in getting a chance to make a speech. Forty things Avere put to the vote and passed without my being able to say a word, though I felt certain I could have said something upon every one of them. I had my speech all ready and was waiting for nothing but a chance to say '^ Mr Speaker," but something always put me out. This was losing time dreadfully — however I made it up seconding motions, for I was determined to have my share in the business, out of regard for my constituents. It 's true J seconded the motions on both sides of the question, which always set the other members a laughing, but says I to them, " That 's my affair, how do you know what my principles are ? " At last two great ques- tions were brought forward that seemed to be too good to lose. These were the Dogtown turnpike, and the Cart-wheel question. The 28 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH moment I heard the last one mentioned, I felt convinced it was just the thing for me. The other members thought just so, for when it came up for discussion, a Berkshire member gave me a jog with the elbow, " Turniptop," says he, ' ' now is your time. Squashborough for ever !" No sooner said than done ; I twitched off my hat and called out " Mr Speaker !" As sure as you live, I had caught him at last ; there was nobody else had spoken quick enough, and it was as clear as preaching, I had the floor. "Gentleman from Squashbor- ough !'"' says he, — I heard him say it ! " Now," thinks I to myself, " I must begin, whether or no." " Mr Speaker," says I again, but I on- ly said it to gain time, for I could hardly be- lieve that I actually had the floor, and all the congregated wisdom of the commonwealth was listening and looking on ; the thought of it made me crawl all over. " Mr Speaker," says I, once more. Everybody looked round at me. Thinks I to myself a second time, " there's no clawing off, this hitch. I must begin ; and so here goes !" Accordingly I gave a loud hem ! and said "Mr Speaker," for the fourth time. "Mr Speaker," said I, "I rise to the question" — though it did not strike my mind that I had IN THE GENERAL COURT. 29 been standing up ever since I came into the house. " I rise to this question, Mr Speak- er," says I. But to see how terribly strange some things work ! No sooner had J fairly rose to the question and got a chance to make my speech, than I began to wish myself a hun- dred miles off. Five minutes before, 1 was as bold as a lion, but now I should have been glad to crawl into a knot-hole. " Mr Speak- er, I rise to the question," says I : but I am bound to say that instead of rising, my voice began to fall. " Mr Speaker," said I again, " I rise to the question," but the more I rose to the question, the more the question seemed to fall away from me. And just at that min- ute, a little fat round-faced man with a bald head, that was sitting right before me, speaks to another member and says, " What squeak- ing fellow is that?" It dashed me a good deal and I don't know but I should have sat right down without another word, but Colo- nel Crabapple the member from Turkeytown, gave me a twitch by the tail of my wrapper, '• That 's right, Turniptop," says he, " give them the grand touch !" This had a migh- ty encouraging eifect, and so I hemmed and hawked three or four times, and at last made a beginning. '^ Mr Speaker,'^ says I, '* this i? asu' jec( for 30 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH vital importance. The question is, Mr Speaker, on the amendment. I have a deci- ded opinion on that point, Mr Speaker. I am altogether opposed to the last gentleman, and I feel bound in duty to my constituents, Mr Speaker, and the responsibility of my of- fice, to express my mind on this question. Mr Speaker, our glorious forefathers fought, bled and died for glorious liberty. I am op- posed to this question, Mr Speaker, my con- stituents have a vital interest in the subject of cart-wheels. Let us take a retrospective view, Mr Speaker, of the present condition of all the kingdoms and tribes of the earth. Look abroad, Mr Speaker, over the wide ex- pansion of nature's universe beyond the blaz- ing billows of the Atlantic ! Behold Bona- parte going about like a roaring thunderbolt ! All the world is turned topsy-turvy, and there is a terrible rousing among the sons of men. — But to return to the subject, Mr Speaker. I am decidedly opposed to the amendm^ent : it is contrary to the principles of freedom and the principles of responsibility. Tell it to your children, Mr Speaker, and to your chil- dren's children, that freedom is not to be bartered like Esau for a mess of potash. Liberty is gthe everlasting birth-right of the IN THE GENERAL COURT. 31 grand community of nature's freemen. Sir, the member from Boston talks of horse- shoes, but 1 hope we shall stand up for our rights. If we onl}^ stand up for our rights, Mr Speaker, our rights will stand up for us, and we shall all stand uprightly without shivering or shaking. Mr Speaker, these are awful times ; money is hard to get, whatever the gentleman from Rowley may say about pumpkins. A true patriot will die for his country. M^y we all imitate the glorious example and die for our country. Give up keeping cows ! Mr Speaker ! what does the honorable gentleman mean 7 Is not agricul- ture to be cultivated 1 He that sells his lib- erty, Mr Speaker, is worse than a cannibal, a hottentot or a hippopotamus. The member from Charlestown has brought his pigs to the wrong market. I stand up for cart-wheels and so do my constituents. When our coun- try calls us, Mr Speaker, with the voice of a speaking-trumpet, may we never be back- ward in coming forward : and all honest men ought to endeavor to keep the rising genera- tion from falling. Not to dwell upon this point, Mr Speaker, let us now enter into the subject : In the first place, " — Now it happened that just at this moment 32 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH the little fat, bald-headed, round-faced man wriggled him round exactly in front of me, so that I could not help seeing him ; and just as 1 was saying '' rising generation," he twist- ed the corners of his mouth into a queer sort of a pucker on one side, and rolled the whites of his little grey, winking eyes right up in my face. The members all stared straight at us, and made a kind of a snickering cluck^ cluck^ cluck^ cluck, that seemed to run whist- ling over the whole house. I felt awfully bothered, I can't tell how, but it gave me such a jerk off the hooks that I could not re- member the next words : so I felt in my pocket for the speech — it was not there : — then in my hat,— it was not there : — then behind me, then both sides of me, but lo ! and behold it was not to be found. The next instant I remembered that I had taken it out of my hat in a shop in Dock Square that morning while I was comparing the four corners of my check handkerchief with a bandanna. That was enough, — I knew as quick as lightning that I was a gone goose. I pretended to go on with my speech, and kept saying, "rising generation, my constitu- ents, enter into the subject, Mr Speaker." But I made hawk's meat of it, you may de- IN THE GENERAL COURT. 33 pend. Finally nobody could stand it any longer; the little fat man with the round face put his thumb to the side of his nose, and made a sort of twinkling with his fingers ; the speaker began to giggle, and the next min- ute the whole house exploded like a bomb shell. I snatched up my hat under cover of the smoke, made one jump to the door, and was down stairs before you could say " second the motion." BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. When I [considered these things, I sighed and said within myselfj " Surely man is a broomstick ! " Swift's Meditations on a Broomstick. Doctor Johnson is known to have said he could make a capital book of the Life of a Broomstick. It is astonishing the book- making tribe have never taken this hint ; for nobody has ever written such a work, not- withstanding the fruitfukiess of the subject. Writers have given us the Uves of innumera- ble dunces, old grannies, fops, bores and do- littles : all sorts of nobodies and good-for- nothing two-legged creatures have had their memories embalmed in bad English and bal- derdash eloquence ; but hitherto no one ex- cept the Great Moralist seems to have been a- ware of the biographical capabilities of broom- sticks. As I have the honor, therefore of being born a broomstick, I shall proceed to relate the events of my life according to the most approved models of biographical com- position. BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 35 Broomsticks, dear reader, are important things ; your wife has doubtless given you a hint of this before. The life of a broomstick must, in consequence, abound in striking events, and furnish the speculative philos- opher with topics for profound reflection. My family is ancient, for the pedigree can be traced to Noah, who, it is pretty certain, took a supply of broomsticks in the ark, well knowing he should have plenty of sweeping to do. This being settled, let none hereafter deny the antiquity of broomsticks. See the treatise of Maimonides ; de broomstickorum vetere prosapia^ cum notis Johannis Bambou- zelbergii^ edit. Lugduni B ifav. 1662. But to make a slight transition from Noah's ark to the county of Worcester in which place I first became a broomstick. T must begin my life by saying that I owe existence to a celebrated manufacturer of birchen com- modities, who lacking timber of his own, stole me in the shape of a saphng from the woods of one of his neighbors. After proper metamorphosis into the regular form of a household implement, I passed somewhat surreptitiously into the hands of a Connecti- cut pedler. To speak more distinctly, I was first stolen as stuff for making, and then sto- SB BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. len ready made. My readers, I dare say, have heard loose reports of this circumstance before. The fact is indubitable, and shows the strange vicissitudes to which pedlers and l^roomsticks are liable in this uncertain life. The pedler carried me to Boston, where he sold me with all his load to a grocer at the South End : here 1 remained on hand several weeks, till at length I was bought by the housemaid of a gentleman in street, and taken regularly into service. I blush to say that at my first entrance into public life, I was employed in all sorts of dirty work. I should certainly have suppressed this par- ticular, were it not that it offers a surprising coincidence with the career of so many great men of the present day. Such an outset, I need hardly say, did not please me at all. I was up betimes in the morning, travelled briskly through the entry, kitchen, yard and cellar, and then poked be- hind a door to rest. Day after day the same dull routine was repeated, and I began to think I should never know an adventure, or see anything of high life. Three months elapsed before I even got a peep into the par- lor. But an unlooked-for accident brought me to play a more important part in the do- mestic concerns of the house. BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 37 The gentleman to whom I had the honor of belonging, was a young man who had met with great good luck, that is to say, he had married a fortune. His spouse was a lady of no great personal charms and considerably his superior in years. My gentleman, how- \ ever, having an empty purse and a fine figure, /very generously overlooked all objections j arising from the disparity of their ages, and I married the lady for love, — so he said, and I nobody contradicted him. The honey-moon passed delightfully, and all parties proclaimed it a blessed match. The lady was happy that she had such a fine, gay, pleasant, sensi- ble, good-natured husband. The husband was happy that he had so many bank shares and brick houses. This was surely a delight- ful prospect of life, but like many other de- lightful prospects, it came to nothing, to the utter astonishment of all concerned. One evening rather late. I was standing in a dark corner of the kitchen, in company with my two friends, the mop and the warm- ing-pan, when I heard the front door shut with more than common emphasis. About a quarter of an hour after this, Dolly the housemaid came running into the kitchen, and seizing hold of me, glided oflf on tiptoe 38 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. through the entry. I had not time to conjec- ture what could be the occasion of this extra- ordinary movement, before I heard voices in a pretty exalted pitch in the adjoining room. Something had evidently taken place to dis- turb the domestic tranquillity of those sweet turtle-doves, our master and mistress, and Dolly having overheard enough to excite her curiosity, had crept to the parlor door to listen, takins: me with her as a sham, that she might pretend being about work, in case she should be caught eaves-dropping. So putting her ear to the door and holding her breath, she heard every syllable of what passed. My gentleman, it seems, had come home several hours later than he was expected, greatly to the disappointment of his better half, who, on the moment of his appearance, set upon him with reproaches for neglecting her. To my surprise, though probably not to hers, he replied in a manner that showed a very recent familiarity with the good crea- ture Champaigne. He was very talkative and dogmatical, and threw off all reserve. " Really, sir," said his wife, with as much sullenness in her looks as she had been able to call up in the three hours she had been brooding over her wrongs — " Really, sir, this is too bad." BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 39 '' Too bad? my dear !" answered the gen- tleman with a show of the greatest amaze- ment, '^ too bad, my dear, what do you mean, my dear?" " Mean? sir," that is a pretty question^ a very pretty question, hah !" returned she, pretending to make beheve laugh. " A pretty question, what it means when folks complain of such treatment. But you grow worse and worse, sir, 't is the twentieth time, sir, the for- tieth time — the hundredth time that you have neglected me so, 'and affronted me so, and mortified me so !" Here she put her hand- kerchief to her eyes. ^' My dear soul !" returned he in a very soothing tone, '' you are crazy ! How can you say I neglect you? Do n't I come home every day to dinner, except now and then." '^ Crazy !" exclaimed the offended fair one? ^' it would not be surprising if such doings should drive a woman crazy. Sir, you neg- lect me shamefully ; you neglect your family, sir, let me tell you that ! and people know it, sir ; I am ashamed of you, sir." " You don't say so, my dear," retorted he with pretended earnestness : " ashamed of me? Why, I am not ashamed of you." " Ashamed of me !" interrupted his wife, 40 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. and reddening at the insinuation, " what do you mean 7 But I see you care nothing about me ; — no, you care for nothing but to spend my money with a pack of low fellows." "Please to spare jour reflections upon the gentlemen of my acquaintance : you are no judge of character, sweet woman." '•Sir, I tell you I will bear it no longer;" replied the spouse, growing more and more passionate: "you are an unfeeUng creature and an ungrateful creature. I think I am en- titled to some respect, sir — consider your ob- ligations to me." " Obligations forsooth !" said the husband, beginning to feel his temper disturbed at this fling from his wife. " Heyday ! consider your obligations to me too." " What sir, obligations ! pray what obliga- tions ! Did n't 1 marry you, sir, when you had n't a cent in your pocket 1 Did n't I make a gentleman of you, sir? answer me that." " And did n't I marry you ma'am," re- turned the gentleman raising his voice, and growing more and more ruffled, " did n't I marry you when you was at the last point of desperation, with all the horrors of single blessedness staring you in the face !" *' 'T is false, sir !" exclaimed his lady with BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 41 great violence. "I had a dozen offers — good offers, sir ; but I was fool enough to marry you, sir. I saved you from the deputy she- riff — you may thank me, sir, that you are not at this moment boarding at free cost in Ward No. 5." " Oho ! since you are come to that," said the gentleman in a very firm tone and pre- tending the greatest nonchalance, . " I think quite as much might be said on the other side; for let me tell you, old lady, a young fellow that has prospects can't be expected to throw himself away for nothing." To call a lady old, is an offence, says Cer- vantes, that none of the sex can forgive. It is the last thing indeed, which a middle-aged belle wishes to be reminded of Our lady was very touchy upon this point, and she burst out — "You are an ill-mannered fellow, sir; you are a brute and a barbarian. You mean to kill me with your vile behavior. I wish I may live a thousand years to vex you. I won't stay another moment in your company. Oh ! fie ! you wretch? " With this explosion of rage, she sprang from her seat and seizing the door with a most tremendous jerk, threw it open. Now 42 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. all this was done so instantaneously that Dolly who was standing in breathless immo- bility, leamng against the outside, had not above three quarters of a second's warning of her approach, so that the door flying open in an instant, the mistress and maid came slap together with a momentum not much in- ferior to that of two locomotives on a rail- way. The awkwardness of the collision need not be described, but this was not the worst part of the affair. The lady's temper was none of the sweetest, and the quarrel with her husband had made her a hundred times more irritable than common. Enraged at the thought of having her family quarrels discovered, for she had pride as well as tem- per, she flew upon the luckless listener and snatching me from her hands before she could think of a word to say in her defence, gave her such a beating that poor Dolly roar- ed for help and bestowed internally ten thousand maledictions on that evil spirit of curiosity that had prompted her to busy her- self with the conjugal endearments of her betters. The husband was not displeased to find the storm diverted from himself to another object, but was at length obliged to interfere, lest the punishment should exceed BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 4^ the offence. He snatched me from the hands of his wife, and bade the kickless maid go about her business, and forbear eaves-drop- ping in future. But Dolly was not so easily- pacified. '^ She would n't stay another mo- ment in the house, not she. Folks need n't think they was to treat their helps like dogs, that they must n't. She was as good flesh and blood as any body, she 'd have 'em to know. Off she 'd go that instant, bag and baggage, and she 'd have the law on them for all their gentility." With these protestations, and a thousand others just hke them, accom- panied with divers tossings of the head and twistings of the nose, she left the house. The next morning beheld me travelling to Court street, where Dolly told her piteous tale to a lawyer and exhibited me in evidence. '' Here is the very broomstick to prove it, sir ; every word of it is true, and if you won't be- Heve me, you must believe the broomstick : two witnesses will hang anybody. If there 's law in the land 1 '11 have justice done for me and the broomstick." — " No doubt on't," re- plied the learned gentleman, " leave the broomstick with me, and I'll make a flourish with it to some purpose, but hark'ee, don't say anything of this affair to anybody else. 44 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. You shall have justice done you, but leave it to me." Dolly went her way and the lawyer ran to my gentleman. " Mr ," said he, " this is an ugly affair of yours : could 'nt you make it up? The girl swears she '11 have it in the newspapers to-morrow. Now as a friend iio you I should be horrified to see such a scandal get abroad about a respectable family like yours ! I would not for a thousand dol- lars that the affair should get wind." These alarms had a great effect upon my master and mistress, who by this time had begun to en- tertain some cool reflections upon the doings of the last evening, and they inquired with great anxiety whether the matter could not be hushed up. " 'Tis the very thing Ih ave to propose," said the attorney, " the complain- ant has offered to compound for a considera- tion." — '' How much ?" asked the husband. — " Five hundred dollars," replied the man of law. " Five hundred ! " exclaimed the lov- ing couple at once, in the most dismal tone of astonishment. '^Ay," returned the peacema- ker, ^' but I beat her down to two hundred, fori told her she must be reasonable." — " The devil confound such reason !" exclaimed the gentleman; ''what, two hundred dollars for half a dozen thumps with a broomstick, — I BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 45 won't pay it." " Why then, there's nothing more to be said," repUed the lawyer gravely, " and the matter must go before the court." This was an ugly thought to my gentleman. ''Say a hundred and fifty," said he, "and done." My honest friend, the attorney, took a pinch of snuff, and after a few seconds hesi- tation replied — " Well, since you won't of- fer more, let me have the money and I'll try what can be done with her." Very reluctant- ly, my fine gentleman drew a check for the money, and the man of law departed, protest- ing that it grieved him to the soul, but he would make any sacrifice to save his friend's character. A few days after, came his client to inquire about her cause. She was directed to call again the next week. At the second call, the matter was postponed for a fortnight : the next time for three weeks ; and so on till the unlucky maid became pretty well tired of the law's delay. After a long time, he informed her that the case looked rather bad, and hint- ed that she had better try to make it up. Dolly who by this time no longer felt the smart of her bruises, and began to have fears that the case might go against her, readily listened to the suggestion and inquired how 46 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. much she might hope to get as hush-money. *' I can't tell," repUed the conscientious gen- tleman, ^' but if you could get ten dollars, I should advise you as a friend to withdraw your action." " Ten dollars !" exclaimed the battered Abigail,— well, if you think 1 'd bet- ter " — " Really I do," replied he; ^' take my word as a friend, I wish to give you honest advice, — that 's always my rule." The re- sult of this negotiation was that the ten dol- lars were paid and so the matter ended, veri- I fying the old adage, "blessed are the makers I of peace, but cursed are the breakers of it." ^ Meantime I was forgotten, and stood behind the lawyer's door for six months. What scenes I witnessed, are nothing to my present purpose, since I was rather a spectator than an actor in them. I became initiated into the mysteries of the legal profession, upon the philosophy of which I shall make no moral reflections from sheer inability, for the length and breadth of a lawyer's conscience are be- yond the capacity of any common broomstick to measure. But one day a certain customer of my master's, a rather unsophisticated wight, finding his pockets emptied of a swingeing sum by the ingenuity of this gentleman, stood aghast at the catastrophe, hardly wiUing to BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 47 believe his senses' in evidence of such diaboli- cal impudence. Finding however, that it was " no mistake," he moved towards the door, determined to say his " good bye " in a style that would ring like a clap of thunder. "I'll tell you what I think of you, sir," said he in a solemn voice, and holding the door in one hand, ready to fire and run. " Well," said the man of law, very com- posedly. " I think you a very great rascal !" Expecting to see the enraged attorney ex- plode like a bomb-shell at this attack, he stood a moment to enjoy the effect, but what words can describe his astonishment, when his an- tagonist answered with the most gentle smile — " Pooh ! pooh, I 've been told that a hun- dred times." This was too much ; flesh and blood could not bear it. " I'll have it out of his hide, " thought the unlucky litigant, and at that mo- ment his eye fell on me who stood close at hand, as it were inviting him. to seize and lay on. In a trice he clutched me by the end and made so brisk a flourishing over the sconce of his legal friend that he roared with more eloquence than he ever did to a jury. The 48 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. neighbors running in at the noise, put an end to this administration of justice, and the assail- ant was tumbled down stairs into the street, where he was seized by a constable. For my part I was carried by that official to his own house in order to be forthcoming when the in- dictment for the assault should be drawn. But just after this, certain affairs of the afore- said attorney coming to light which were likely to render his stay in Boston inconve- nient, he disappeared between two days, and the prosecution was dropped. In the constable's house T was put to vari- ous uses : the most worthy of mention was that of being ridden as a horse by one of his boys. Having performed this office one af- ternoon, I was left by the urchin in the street, where I expected to pass the night : but about ten o'clock in the evening I was aroused from a profound re very by a sound of footsteps breaking the lonely silence of the obscure lane where I lay. A figure approached with looks bent on the ground and cautiously peeping into every corner he passed, as if hunting for rags and old shoes. By the light of the moon he espied me as I lay in the gutter, .viid ea- gerly caught me up. We passed up the street and down another, in at this lane and out at BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 49 that, my master picking up various valuable commodities in his way, till he found his pockets stuffed with old newspapers, bits of leather, marrow-bones, broken glass, rope yarn, old iron, cork stopples, and odds and ends of ev* ry article of domestic economy that can find its way into a dust-heap. The individual into whose hands I had thus'fallen, was a lean, scarecrow looking per- sonage, in a threadbare coat and an old rusty hat, yet so far from being a beggar or the keeper of an old junk shop, was one of the richest men in Boston, who turned an honest penny by accommodating gentlemen in pinch- ing circumstances with ready cash, at a rate of interest corresponding to the scarcity of the commodity. These transactions were com- monly done in a sly place not far from Faneuil Hall market, for this obliging old soul did not care to have his liberality obtruded upon the notice of the public, and always manifested great uneasiness when the folks in the Insurance Office dropped hints about letting money at ten per cent, a month. However, that is neither here nor there. It was late at night, and he trudged down street with me to the market, where my gentleman began to peer about among the lobsters, and after in- 4 50 , BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 5jyecting several lots, at last pitched upon one just about spoiling, for which he ofFered half price as it was a hot night. The bargain was concluded after some higgling, the purchaser upon a second examination, insisting upon a further deduction of two cents in consequence of the deficiency of a claw. My master wrapped his purchase up safe in an old newspaper and sat off homeward. We entered the yard of a house in street, and he bolted the gate very carefully behind him and took us into the kitchen, where we found his wife sitting by the light of the small- est of all tallow candles. " Cre-ation ! ma'am !" he exclaimed, "what now? what now? — Burning out light to waste in this manner ! What upon earth is the meaning of all this ?" " Nothing, Mr Gripps, but waiting for Isaac, the boy has n't got home yet," replied his wife. " What ! what ! what 's that you say 7 not got home yet? Half after ten, and not home yet ! Cre-ation ! the creature 's bewitched !" " As sure as you live, it's true ! MrGripps, and yet I gave him a strict charge to be home in season," returned she. "So did I — so did I." said the old miser, beginning to work himself up into a passio^. BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 51 '^ How many times 1 've told him so ! This won't do, this won't do ! Let him go to bed in the dark. Shan't have candles to burn to waste. Go to ruin hand over fist ! — Cre-a- tion !" So saying he opened his bundle and laid the lobster very carefully upon the dres- ser. " There !" he exclaimed, fixing his httle gray bargain-making eyes upon the choice morsel with a look of mingled resignation and sor- row. '' There 's a dinner for Wednesday, cost ten cents! — would n't take less for it — ten cents ! Ugh ! Souse it in vinegar and it '11 be sure to keep : 't will make two good dinners and something to save besides : we can cer- tainly make it last till Friday; why not 7 why not?" "Why, Mr Gripps," replied his wife, " there 's nothing for dinner tomorrow; you know it really can't last till Friday." " Ods ! my life ! " he exclaimed in the greatest astonishment, " nothing for dinner tomorrow? what! all the tom-cods gone? Cre-ation ! " " All ate up but tha one you saved for supper, and what do you think, Mr Gripps? I verily believe Tim Dobson's old cat has stole it, for I have n't seen hide nor hair of it since the morning !' 52 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. " Cre-ation ! " exclaimed old Gripps, " that thief of a cat '11 be the rnin of me ! Steals all our fish — steals all our liver — won't have her about the yard — I '11 kill her ! I '11 kill her ! Won't have her stealing here — Tell Dobson to keep his cats at home. Drive her away ! 'scat her away — ■ won't have her stealing here ! Creation ! "' Here the old miser rolled up his eyes and gave a most rueful groan as he thought of the alarming audacity of cats and the irreco- verable loss of his tom-cod. Then shewing me to his wife, his features relaxed a little, and he exclaimed in a tone of great satisfac- faction, " Nice broomstick ; nice broomstick ; take care on't, take care on't — come in course by and bye." Then depositing me very carefully in a corner, he disburthened himself of the trumpery he had picked up, launching out into praises of every article, and packing them away with heaps already collected. Af- ter which he crept off to bed, taking care to put out the light and hide the candle, that there might be no further extravagant con- sumption of tallow. It would have been worth any miser's money to see the domestic economy of my master's establishment. He was a saving BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 53 hunks, that had made his own fortune and knew what money was worth. He began life with a peck of apples and three quarts of vinegar which served him to set up what he called a wine cellar in Ann street. Here he drudged for some years, and by looking out for the main chance, doing here a little and there a little, and losing no chance of turning a penny, he contrived by hook and by crook, to emerge into State street, where he realized his hundred thousand, by practices which need not be explained to those who know the necessities of men in business who have notes to pay. No man ever had a greater horror of parting with his money. His house looked like the domain of famine, though he was always talking of living comfortably. To do him justice, his family enjoyed all the comfort, which lie within the reach of those who are debarred the use of fire, hghts and provisions. His back-logs were always soak- ed in water and the candle ends were care- fully locked up for fear they should be eaten. It is hardly necessary to particularize the daily events of my life while I staid in this same kitchen. I saw nobody save the old miser, his wife and son. They lived for the most part, upon tom-cods fried in water, with 54 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. now and then a tid-bit in the shape of a scrap of meat, bought a good pennyworth in the afternoon of a hot day, when rapidly becom- ing an unsaleable commodity. Cabbage- leaves and turnip-tops slily filched from carts and stalls, siij: plied greens free of cost, and sometimes a stray carrot or a vagabond po- tato found its way into his pocket, which gave an additional luxury to the dinner table. Never was such a lonely dismal place for a kitchen as ours. Rats there were none ; no- body had ever heard of such things on our premises. Three flies came in at the window one summer afternoon, and were found dead a week afterwards, — doubtless from starva- tion. Some tradition existed of a spit and a tin kitchen, but it had grown faint through lapse of years, and nothing was known of them with certainty. The old miser's clothes never wore out, though always threadbare; they were constantly receiving additions from shreds and patches picked up in his nightly wanderings, and grew rather thick than thin from age. He had an old plush waistcoat, all rusty and ragged, which he called his " tax waistcoat," because he wore it regularly once a year, when he visited the Assessors, to complain of his overtaxation, hoping that BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 55 such " looped and window'd wretchedness " as the venerable tatters of this garment dis- played, might melt the flinty hearts of Sam- uel Norwood, Henry Bass aud Thomas Jack- son, — '' albeit unused to the melting mood " — into a more moderate estimation of his real and personal estate. But it does not appear that this ingenious manoeuvre ever succeeded. I stood undisturbed in a corner of the kitchen for some weeks, as it may readily be supposed there was very little use for my ser- vices in a house where no article of furniture was put into unnecessary wear. The doors were always shut to keep out visitors, and the windows were shut to keep out cats. But one afternoon Old Gripps had made a magnificent purchase of an eel for his dinner the next day ; it hung in the chimney corner, and the window, by accident, was open. The cat was prowling about the yard, and dis- covered by the scent that the miser's kitchen actually contained something to eat. Nobody was stirring upon the premises, and the cat ventured to thrust her head in at the window ; not a soul was to be seen in the kitchen, the eel was in plain sight and could be reached by a smart jump. 56 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. A whisker first and then a claw, With many an ardent wish, She stretched in vain to reach the prize, What starving throat can food despise ? What cat 's averse to fish ? No sooner thought than done : she bound- ed into the room, made a snap at the eel, and was in the act of retreating with the prize when the old miser opened the door. " Cre-ation ! " he exclaimed, running to the window and clapping it down to cut oflf the cat's retreat. "Thief of a cat! I'll crack your bones for you ! Stop, there ! Stop, there ! whisht! scat! scat! oh! you thief!" At the same time snatching me from the corner he began to lay about him like mad. The cat finding her retreat by the window cut off, made a bolt through the door into the entry, holding fast by the eel in her escape. The miser pursued her, banging the floor right and left with his broomstick, and exclaiming in a great rage, " Cre-ation ! Oh you thief! I'll crack your bones! Thief! thief! thief! 'scat ! 'scat ! stop there ! stop there ! whisht ! siss ! siss ! cahah ! cahah ! whisht ! whisht ! drop that eel ! drop that eel ! caa ! caa ! caa ! drop that eel, I say !" But the cat was a veteran marauder, and held fast by the eel, scampering hither and thither across the en- BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 57 try, determined to save her hide and bacon too if possible ; but finding all egress by the door prohibited, she bounced up the stairs. The old miser followed her, striking short of the end of her tail at every step and bawling 'Stop that cat! stop that cat! a thief! a thief! caa ! caa! drop that eel! drop that eel, I say !" In this manner he chased her into the garret, where she bolted through a broken square in the window, and both eel and cat were lost to all pursuit. The unfortunate miser stood astounded at this unexpected escape. The broomstick dropped from his hand and he remained transfixed, with gaping mouth, staring eyes and the most dolorous contortion of visage. After exclaiming '' Cre-ation !" twenty times over, he crept sorrowfully down stairs, deter- mined to nail the kitchen window fast down and prevent the repetition of such a disaster. In the confusion of his intellects caused by this overwhelming calamity, he quite forgot the broomstick, and I was left on the garret floor. Here I should have remained undisturb- ed for a long time, had the affairs of the na- tion gone on prosperously ; but the great com- mercial catastrophe which shook all the 59 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. United States, also shook me out of the gar- ret window : — even broomsticks must suffer when empires go to ruin. This strange event was brought about in the following manner. Old Gripps was well rewarded by the bounty of nature for his benevolent qualities. He was blessed with a spendthrift, rantipole son, who seemed to be sent into the world for the express purpose of squandering the money which the parsimony of his father had so painfully acquired. This prodigal disposition had lately increased to an alarming extent. At first, he had refused to wear old clothes bought at the rag-fair of Brattle street : next he found fault with his victuals, and pre- sently wanted money to spend ! Nothing could check his wasteful career but the lack of cash, a commodity which I need not say was pretty securely guarded in the house. He nevertheless contrived, by various man- oeuvres, to filch small sums now and then,* the enjoyment of which only whetted his appetite for more. The youth, finding him- self pinched by the niggardly economy of his father, lost all scruple as to appropriating whatever cash he could lay his hands on. The father, knowing this, was anxiously on his guard, and a very sharp game was played between them. BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 59 For some time cash had been scarce with the young man ; the miser had carefully lodged every dollar in the bank, so that when his son came to pick his pockets at night, he seldom found above a quarter of a dollar at a time. But just after the adventure of the cat and the eel, happened the great stoppage of specie payments. Now old Squaretoes chanced, to his great delectation, on the morning of that very day, to get possession of a large sum in specie, which, when the banks stopped, he determined to keep by him and turn to good account by selling it at a huge premium. He accordingly had it con- veyed home at an hour when his son was absent ; and not finding his own desk or closet safe enough for such a precious deposit, as young hopeful could pick locks on oc- casion, he had hid the strong box in a sly corner of the garret, where it remained un- suspected by any one. After a while, how- ever, the ingenious youth, led by surmises, tracked his father undiscovered to the spot, and got ft sight of the hidden treasure. My master, like most other careful old gentlemen, made a practice every night of seeing the doors made fast, and every body safe in bed before he retired to rest. The 60 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. slightest noise in the night alarmed him, as he always thought of his gold, and dreamed of thieves. About eleven o'clock, when the whole house had been for some time in per? feet silence, I was surprised to hear footsteps stealthily approaching, and see the gHmmer of a light. Our young gentleman made his appearance, walking on tiptoe, and holding his breath. The secret nook was explored and the strong box drawn out. The eyes of the liberal young man sparkled as he felt the weight of the treasure ; he imagined that so large a sum might spare a part, and nothing be missed, a hasty method of reasoning which folks of his stamp are very apt to fall into: A handful of keys were applied one after the other to the lock, but not one of them would fit. To break the lock would make a noise, and the only method left was to force the lid up by a wedge, widely enough to abstract some of the contents. Nothing of the kind had been prepared, but as 1 happened to lie in sight, he seized me forthwith, and by the help of his penknife, sharpened my small end into a wedge. With this instrument the lid was raised an inch or two and he greedily thrust in his hand, but, woful to relate ! at that moment I snapped short and left him in BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 61 the lurch ! A steel trap could not have done the thing more neatly. At the noise made by this disaster, and the sudden scream which the pain of his impris- oned wrist extorted from the luckless adven- turer, the old miser awoke and began to bawl *' Murder ! fire ! thieves ! " Then running in all haste to the scene of the alarm, he beheld his darling son with his hand in the casket that contained his beloved treasure. This sight roused him to fury. He snatched me from the floor, and bestowed so violent a cudgelling upon the back of the delinquent, that his wife, who presently came up, fearing the blows were killing the young man, snatched me from the hands of her husband and threw me out the window. How long my young friend staid in his trap I never learned. For my own part, I found myself on the roof, where I slid end- wise over the eaves, and then shot diagonally into the window of the house opposite. Now in this room sat a couple of persons rather oddly situated. Let me take up their story a point or two backward. A middle-aged old gentleman it was, with a middle-aged young lady, — the reader understands me. This middle-aged old gentleman was a pre- $2 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. cise, fidgetty, touchy, ceremonious personage, as prim and old-bachelorish as the primmest of all old bachelors, and was paying his addresses to the middle-aged young lady, who had as little objection to a husband as it was possible for a middle-aged lady to have. This was a courting night ; the courtship was not so far advanced as to have removed all atten- tion to punctilios between them, and they sat upon the sofa in an attitude as formal and ' starched as a couple of effigies in the New England Museum. By and by the conversa- tion began to flag, as it is apt to do on such occasions : the house was silent ; they had discussed the news and talked the weather round and round till it would not shift any more. There was nothing more left to talk about ; pity that lovers could not start a topic sufficiently animating to keep them awake, but such is the fact : the gentleman began soon to yawn, and as yawning, like love or the measles, is contagious, the lady began to yawn too. What will you have 7 — in half an hour they were both fast asleep ! Now I should have observed before, our prim, precise, touchy, fidgetty, middle-aged old bachelor had the misfortune to lose all his hair, and wore a handsome scratch ; but this BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 63 was known only to himself, and he designed to keep the secret, and carry it with him to his grave. Nothing gave him so much anxi- ety as the apprehension that this might be discovered, for he had set his heart on pre- serving the reputation of his youthful locks. He had dropped no Mnt, of course, to the lady, that in case she pulled his hair for him, something might surprise her, and his pre- caution not to endanger such a discovery, added not a little to the circumspection of his manners in her company. As this loving couple lay fast asleep, one at each end of the sofa, I burst in at the win- dow, and came end first, souse upon the old bachelor's nose ! He uttered a loud scream and sprang up, tossing his wig off at a single jerk. The lady awoke at the scream, and started up and screamed likewise. The gen- tleman stared in astonishment at the lady, imagining it was she who had struck him. The lady fixed her eyes in astonishment and terror upon the gentleman, unable to conceive the cause of his exclamation, his frightened looks, or the sudden metamorphose of his head. The next moment the gentleman was aware of the loss of his wig ; then surprise, astonishment, mortification, embarrassment, 64 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. fright and ten thousand indescribable imagin- ings came over him in an overwhelming cloud. He stood as if thunderstruck, without the power to utter a syllable. Now the lady- screamed again in good earnest, for she was fully persuaded he was out of his wits. The noise awoke everybody in the house, who came rushing in tumult into the room. The sight of these intruders brought the bewilder- ed man a little to his senses. He caught up his wig, and clapping it upon his head, the wrong side before, rushed in speechless amaze- ment and vexation from the house. The lady, as in duty bound, immediately fainted away : and when she came to herself, she shed, with the greatest propriety, a con- siderable quantity of tears. The following day was passed in losing all appetite for victuals and in sighing profoundly. As for the gentleman, he set out upon a distant jour- ney without delay, and has not yet return- ed. Should the sequel of the affair ever come to light, I shall certainly make it public, for it must interest all true lovers. I have not space to detail the adventures that befell me after this occurrence ; but I continued to play my part in all sorts of strangle conjunctures. I have passed through BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 65 the hands of four snappish old curmudgeons, nine scolding wives, three dogmatical school- masters, and thirteen desperate old maids, — in all of which I did effectual service. I have caused seventeen bloody noses, twelve pair of battered shins, and ten black and blue shoul- ders ; I have banged twentyseven very thick skulls, given two dozen pokes in the ribs, made thirteen men and women cry murder I broken off two matches, and caused the death of one half of a human being, in the shape of a dandy with two daubs of tallowed hair plastered on his temples. This last exploit indeed is not much, but take them all togeth- er, I really think they are something — for a broomstick. Many a blockhead has written his own life. Let this be my apology. The world, 't is true, Was made for blockheads. — and for broomsticks too. ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. BY BOANERGES BURSTALL. Stupendous Pole !— thou walking-stick of Time ! Thou giant flag- staff in empyreal air ! Throned in Antarctic solitude sublime, Portentous mystery ! what dost thou do there ? Ly'st thou enchain'd in that benighted sea? Sleep'st thou in lullaby of whistling thunders ? O Pole! in frenzy when I think of thee, I think — I think — unutterable wonders ! There dost thou sit, unseen, untouch'd, unshaken, A thousand sea-calves roar at thee in vain ; Ten thousand bears in vain their growls awaken, And thrice ten thousand whales spout up the foaming main Shouldst thou, O stsdfast Pole ! desert thy station, New Zealand's coasts would tremble at the sight, The Hindoo tawnies quake in consternation, And sable Hottentots turn pale with fright. Shouldst thou break loose in some stupendous thaw, Leap to the North, and kiss thy Arctic brother, Then sea and land, " in elemental war," As poets say, would make a " dreadful pother." ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. 67 Hark ! hear we not the South Sea islands rushing Through Behring's Straits which vainly bid them stand, There goes New Holland, old Spitzbergen crushing, Cape Horn runs butting against Newfoundland ! I see old Neversink falling away, And B'wker Hill upset in Lake Champlain, I see Gibraltar skate through Baffin's Bay, And Cuba scouring o'er the State of Maine. Here, huge sea-serpents twist their tails on high, And shoals of frighted porpoises are dashing; There great leviathans and little fry, Penobscot shad and Norway kraken splashing. Six waterspouts stream up Wakulla fountain, Thund'ring from Pasquotank to Tombigbee, Rhode Island jumps astride of Saddle Mountain And canters down the Falls of Genesee ! The Blue Ridge tumbles o'er the western prairie, And pounds the buffaloes with desperate slaughter ; Now strong Madeira dashes Grand Canary, And now up hill, good Lord ! runs Taunton water ! Behold Bermuda burst his rocky tether, And rush upon Cape Cod in roaring war ! And there the cities all go smash together, Boston and Paris, Bungtown and Bangor 1 The moon blows up, the fix'd stars run away, Earth, sun and comets into chaos swing ! 'T is done ! the skies come tumbling down ! — but stay -*• It is not done, because there 's no such thing. No ! mortal sight is happily a stranger To all the horrors of the astounding scene ; Fate has look'd out in time to spy the danger, And placed the equinoxial line between. 68 ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. While stand the mountains, the South Pole will stand, When fall the mountains, the South Pole will fall, New Holland, Java and Van Dieman's Land, And Owhyhee and South Sea Islands all. Then fare thee well, dread Pole, the very notion. Curdles my blood with horrifying chill. Do n't think of such tremendous locomotion. But fare thee well, South Pole, and stand stock-still! THE AGE OF WONDERS. I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. Twelfth Night. My neighbor over the way, Colonel Swal- lovvmore, thinks himself born in the age of wonders : — and no wonder he thinks so, for he reads the newspapers and believes them ! It is astonishing how gravely the Colonel gulps down every crude lump of monstrous fudge the papers contain. Sea-serpents, crook-necked squashes, consumption cured, talking pigs and three-legged cats, are nothing to an appetite like his. He believes election- eering speeches and predictions of political quidnuncs. All is fish that comes to his net. " These are times ! Mr Titterwell, these are times indeed ! " says he to me with a most rueful visage, as he lays down the newspa- per — " What are we coming to! People have got to such a pass ! Something is certainly going to happen before long. I 'm really, really frightened to think of it. There never 70 THE AGE OF WONDERS. were snch doings in my day. Positively I 've got so now I an't surprised at any thing ! " — And so he shakes his head, hitch- es np his breeches, sticks his spectacles higher up his nose, and reads the wonders of the day over again. Twentyeight several times has this country been irretrievably ruined since I knew the Colonel. Seven times has the world come quite to an end. Nineteen times have we had the hardest winter ever known within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Twenty- one times there never was seen such a back- ward spring. Fortyseven times the approach- ing session of Congress has been one of un- common interest ; and thirteen thousand nine hundred and sixtysix times has death snatch- ed away the best man upon earth, leaving mortals inconsolable and society with an immense void. The mental agitations he has undergone in pondering upon the " won- derful wonders" that spring up as plenty as grasshoppers in this wonderful age. are not to be described; for the Colonel takes an im- mense interest in public affairs, and cannot see the universe go to ruin about his ears without pangs of sympathy. Whatever molehill he stumbles upon, he makes a moun- THE AGE OF WONDERS. 71 tain of it. He thought the Salem mill-dam absolutely necessary to the balance of power, and was certain that the bridge over Peg's Run was the only means of saving the nation. He went to bed in a great fright on reading in the paper that Emerson's Spelling-book would overthrow the liberties of the country ; and he was struck with the deepest alarm when he heard of the feud that had broken out between the Houses of Industry and Reformation about a cartload of chips. I shall never forget the anxiety that beset him last summer when the City Council could not come to a choice about the Superintendent of Drains. The newspapers were full of the affair, and the Colonel, 1 verily believe, would have worried himself into a nervous fever had this alarming schism between the two bran- ches of the city government been carried much farther. " A strange affair, Mr Titter well, a very mysterious affair," said he. " There are some dark, under-ground manoeuvres going on in this matter, depend upon it ; and really the Mayor and Aldermen" here he turn- ed up the whites of his eyes and shook his head. Heaven only knows what he thought of those great dignitaries. However, the af- 72 THE AGE OF WONDERS. fair of the drains got through without an great catastrophe to folks above ground thai ever I could learn, and the Colonel's conster- nation subsided for that time. All the world were going mad the other day about white mustard seed. "Pray Col- onel," said Ij '* what is white mustard seed to you or me? Can't we eat our bread and butter, and sleep till six in the morning, without troubling our heads about white mustard seed? Did n't we fight the battles of (he revolution without white mustard seed? Did n't Samson carry off the gates of Gaza without white mustard seed? Did n't your blessed old grandmother knit stockings and live to the age of ninety without white mus- tard seed? Then what 's the use of minding the dolts in the newspapers who tell you that white mustard seed is better than meat, drink and sunshine, and that we shall all die un- timely deaths unless we take white mustard seed?" The Colonel could not understand it: — it was a great mystery indeed, — but the newspapers were full of it, and he was con- vinced white mustard seed had something in it, that would come out in due time. White mustard seed, however, has had its day ; and THE AGE OF WONDERS. 73 the Colonel has probably taken to saw-dust, as I heard him talk of Dr Graham last week. But of all mortals the Colonel is ihe most prone to sympathize Avith the unfortunate public upon the loss of great men. I popped in upon him the day before yesterday, and found him lamenting a huge public calamity. Three great men had fallen in Israel : — an eminent clergyman, an eminent country re- presentative, and an eminent dealer in salt fish on Long wharf. The Colonel was triply dolorous upon the matter; society, business, politics, had suffered an immense loss, — a loss incalculable, irreparable, and so forth. I assured the Colonel there was no great cause for apprehension, for the world was pretty sure to turn round once in tvventyfour hours, whether great men died or lived. "The fact is, Colonel," said I, "great men may die as fast as they please for aught I care. I have never been frightened by the death of one of them since an adventure that happened to me in my ninth year when I Uved in the country." " What is that 7 " asked the Colonel. "I'll tell you," said I. *' On a certain day, — a day never to be for- gotten by me, news arrived in town that the 74 THE AGE OF WONDERS. Governor was dead. No sovereign prince, pontiff or potentate on the face of the earth, ever appeared so gigantic and formidable to my childish eyes, as that harmless gentleman the Governor of Massachusetts. Imagine the shock occasioned by this announcement ! Straightway the bells began tolling, people collected in groups, quidnuncs scoured from place to place, gossips chattered, children gaped in dumb astonishment, and old women with dismal faces ran about croaking ' the Governor is dead !' To me these things seemed to betoken the general wreck of na- ture, for how the order of the universe could subsist after the death of the Governor, was beyond my comprehension. I expected the sun and moon to fall, the stars to shoot from their spheres, and my grandfather's mill-pond to upset. The horrible forebodings under which I lay down to sleep that night, are not to be described, and it was a long time ere I could close my eyes. In the morning I was awakened by a dreadful rumbling noise. ' The Governor is dead !' I exclaimed, start- ing up in a terrible fright. The noise contin- ued : I listened, and discovered it to be nothing more than my old grandmother grinding coffee ! THE AGE OF WONDERS. 75 " The effect of this prodigious anticlimax can hardly be imagined; never in my life was I so puzzled and confounded as at the first moment of this discovery. ' What !' said I to myself, ' is the Governor dead and yet people grind cofiee ? — then it seems we are to eat our breakfast just as if nothing had happened. Is a great man of no more con- sequence than this?' A new ray of light broke in upon me; I fell to pondering upon the occurrence, and five minutes' pondering completely demolished the power supreme with which many a pompous owl had stalked through my imagination. From that mo- ment, governors, town clerks, selectmen, rep- resentatives, justices of peace, and great peo- ple of every degree, lost nine tenths of their importance in my eyes, for I plainly saw the world could do without them. " How often in after life have I applied the moral of this incident ! How much moving eloquence and dire denunciation have I pass ed by with the remark — ' That is a great affair, no doubt, but it won't stop a coffee mill' " ;( OUR SINGING SCHOOL. A CHAPTER FROM THE HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF PIGWACKET. My second cousin by the mother's side, Benjamin Blackletter, A. M., who was born and Uved all his Ufetime in the ancient town of Pigwacket, has compiled with scrupulous accuracy the annals of that venerable town in three volumes folio, which he proposes to publish as soon as he can find a Boston book- seller who will undertake the job. I hope this will be accomplished before long, for Pigwacket is a very interesting spot, though not very widely known. It is astonishing what important events are going on every day in odd corners of this country which the world knows nothing about. When I read over these trusty folios, which bear the title, " The General History of the Town of Pigwacket, from its first settlement until the present day^ comprising an authentic relation of all its civil, military, ecclesiastical, financial OUR SINGING SCHOOL, 77 and statistical concerns^ compHed from origi- nal records^ etc.'''' and see the great deeds that have been done in that respectable town, and the great men that have figured therein, and refl'Ct that the fame thereof, so far from ex- tending to the four corners of the earth, has hardly penetrated as far as Boston, I heave a sigh for mortal glory, and exclaim in the words of Euripides, Bi 8s yijg STt ea/nTOig oiTCodsv scpvg sx av rjp loyog asdsv Knowing that my readers must be impa- tient for the appearance of the three folios of the History of Pigwacket, and as they cannot be put to press for some months, I avail my- self of this chance to feed their curiosity by an extract, as the cook at Camacho's wedding gave Sancho a couple of pullets to stay his stomach till dinner time. — Take then the portion contained in Chapter CLXXXYJIL which begins as follows : It becomes my lot at this period of the narrative to chronicle an event that formed quite an epoch in the history of the town, or rather of that part which constituted our parish. This occurrence may not be deemed by the world quite so momentous as the de- 78 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. claration of independence, or the French re- volution, but the reader may believe me, it was a great affair in our community. This was no less than a mighty feud in church matters about psalm singing. The whole parish went by the ears about it, and the affair gave the community such a rouse, that many people feared we should never fairly recover the shock. The particulars were these. From time immemorial we had continued to sing psalms at meeting, as became good christians and lovers of harmony. But my readers, accustomed to the improvements of modern days, have need to be informed that, up to this period, our congregation had prac- tised this accomplishment according to that old method of psalmody known by the desig- nation of read-a4ine-and-sing-a-line." This primitive practice, which had first come into use when hymn-books were scarce, was still persisted in, though the necessity of its con- tinuance no longer existed. Our church mu- sic, therefore, exhibited the quaint and patri- archal alternation of recitation and melody, if melody it might be called, while some towns in the neighborhood had adopted the new fashion, and surprised us by the superi- OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 79 ority of their performances over the rude and homely chants of old. But it was not long ere the wish to improve our style of singing hegan to show itself among us. At the first announcement of such a design, the piety of many of the old members took the alarm, and the new method was denounced as heathenish and profane. The chief personage who figured in the trou- bles which arose upon this matter was Dea- con Dogskin, a man of scrupulous orthodoxy, highly dogmatical on theological points, and a leader of powerful influence in the church. This dignitary, whose office it had been to give out the several lines of the psalm as they were sung, was one of the sturdiest opponents of the new-fangled psalmody, and set his face against the innovation with all the zeal and devotion of a primitive christian. Unfortu- nately for him, Deacon Grizzle, his colleague, took the opposite side of the question, exem- plifying the vulgar saying, " Two of a trade can never agree." The discordancy, to tell the whole truth, between these two worthies lay in more interests than one, and it is to be doubted whether they would have come to a rupture in church aff"airs had not their mutual animosities been quickened by certain tempo- 80 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. ral janglings ; for so it happened that the two deacons kept each a grocery store, and nei- ther of them ever let a chance slip of getting away the other's custom. Sorry I am to re- cord the frailties of two such reputable person- ages, who looked upon themselves as burning and shining lights in our community, but I am afraid the fact cannot be concealed, that the petty bickerings which arose between them on these little matters of filthy lucre were suffered to intrude within the walls of the sanctuary and stir up the flame of discord in the great psalm-singing feud ; whereby, as our neighbor Hopper Paul sagely remarked, the world may learn wisdom, and lay it down as a maxim, that church affairs can never thrive when the deacons are grocers. Deacon Grizzle, therefore, partly from con- science and partly from spite, placed himself at the head of the innovation, and took every occasion to annoy his associate with all sorts of ingenious reasons why the singing should be performed without any intermixture of re- citation. The younger part of the congrega- tion were chiefly ranged under his banner, but the old people mustered strong on the op- posite side. To hear the disputes that were carried on upon this point, and the pertinacity OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 81 with which each one maintained his opinion, an uninformed spectator would have imagin- ed the interests of the whole christian world were at stake. In truth, a great many of the good old souls really looked upon the act of altering the mode of singing as a departure from the faith given unto the saints. It was a very nice and difficult thing to come to a decision where all parties were so hotly inter- ested, but an incident which fell out not long afterward, contributed to hasten the revolu- tion. Deacon Dogskin, as I have already re- marked, was the individual on whom devolv- ed, by prescriptive right, the duty of giving out the psalm. The Deacon was in all things a stickler for ancient usages ; not only was he against giving up a hair's breadth of the old custom, but his attachment to the antique forms went so far as to embrace all the cir- cumstances of immaterial moment connected with them. His predilection for the old tone of voice was not to be overcome by any en- treaty, and we continued to hear the same nasal, snuffling drawl, which, nobody knows how, he had contracted in the early part of his deaconship, although on common occa- sions he could speak well enough. But the 6 82 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. tone was a part of his vocation ; long use had consecrated it, and the deacon would have his way. His psalm-book, too, by constant use had become to such a degree thumbed and blurred and torn and worn, that it was a puzzle how, with his old eyes, he could make any thing of one half the pages. However, a new psalm-book was a thing he would never hear spoken of, for, although the thing could not be styled an innovation, inasmuch as it contained precisely the same collocation of words and syllables, yet it was the removal of an old familiar object from his sight, and his faith seemed to be bound up in the greasy covers and dingy leaves of the volume. So the deacon stuck to his old psalm-book, and, by the help of his memory where the letter- press failed him, he made a shift to keep up with the singers, who, to tell the truth, were not remarkable for the briskness of their notes, and dealt more in semibreves than in demi- semi-quavers. But, on a certain day, it happened that the Deacon in the performance of his office, stum- bled upon a line which chanced to be more than usually thumbed, and defied all his at- tempts to puzzle it out. In vain he wiped his spectacles, brought the book close to his OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 83 nose, then held it as far off as possible, then brought his nose to the book, then took it away again, then held it up to the light, turned it this way and that, winked and snuffled and hemnried and coughed — the page was too deeply grimed by the application of his own thumb, to be deciphered by any ocular pow- er. The congregation were at a dead stand. They waited and waited, but the Deacon could not give out the line ; every one stared, and the greatest impatience began to be mani- fested. At last Elder Darby, who commonly took the lead in singing, called out, "What's the matter, deacon?"' " I can't read it," replied the Deacon in a dolorous and despairing tone. " Then spell it," exclaimed a voice from the gallery. All eyes were turned that way, and it was found to proceed from Tim Crack- brain, a fellow known for his odd and whim- sical habits, and respecting whom nobody could ever satisfy himself whether he was knave, fool, or madman. The deacon was astounded, the congregation gaped and stared, but there was no more singing that day. The profane behavior of Tim caused great scan- dal, and he was severely taken in hand by a regular kirk session. 84 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. This, however, was not the whole, for it was plainly to be perceived that the old sys- tem had received a severe blow in this occur- rence, as no one could deny that such an awk- ward affair could never have happened in the improved method of psalmody. The affair was seized by the advocates of improvement and turned against their opponents. Deacon Dogskin and his old psalm-book got into de- cidedly bad odor ; the result could no longer be doubtful ; a parish meeting was held, and a resolution passed to abolish the old system and establish a singing school. In such a manner departed this life, that venerable reli of ecclesiastical antiquity, read-a-line-and sing-a-line, and we despatched our old ac- quaintance to the tomb of oblivion, unwept, unhonored, but not unsu/z^. This event like all great revolutions, did not fail to give sad umbrage to many in the church ; and as to Deacon Dogskin, who had fought as the great champion of the primitive system, he took it in such dudgeon that he fell into a fit of the sullens, which resulted in a determination to leave a community where his opinion and authority had been so fla- grantly set at nought. Within two years, therefore, he sold off his farm, settled all his I i OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 85 concerns both temporal and spiritual in the town, and removed to a village about fifteen miles distant. His ostensible motive for the removal was his declining age, which he de- clared to be unequal to the cultivation of so large a farm as he possessed in our neighbor- hood ; but the true reason was guessed at by every one, as the Deacon could never speak of the singing school without evident marks of chagrin. Be this as it may, we proceeded to organize the singing school forthwith, for it was de- termined to do things in style. First of all, it was necessary to find a singing master who was competent to instruct us theoretically in the principles of the art, and put us to the full discipline of our powers. No one, of course, thought of going out of the town for this, and our directors shortly pitched upon a person- age known to every body by the name of Hopper Paul. This man knew more tunes than any other person within twenty miles, and, for aught we knew, more than any other man in the world. He could sing Old Hun- dred, and Little Marlborough, and Saint An- drews, and Bray and Mear and Tanzar and Quercy, and at least half a dozen others whose names I have forgotten, so that he was looked upon as a musical prodigy. 86 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. I shall never forget Hopper Paul, for both the sounds and sights he exhibited were such as could hardly be called earthly. He was about six feet and a half high, exceedingly lank and long, with a countenance which at the first sight would suggest to you the idea that he had suffered ?i face-quake, for the dif- ferent parts of his visage appeared to have been shaken out of their places and never to have settled properly together. His mouth was capable of such a degree of dilatation and collapse and twisting, that it looked like a half a dozen pair of lips sewed into one. The voice to which this comely pair of jaws gave utterance might have been compared to the lowing of a cow, or the deepest bass of an overgrown bull-frog, but hardly to any sound made by human organs. Hopper Paul, possessing all these accom- plishments, was therefore chosen head singer^ and teacher of the school, which was immedi- ately set on foot. This was a great affair in the eyes of all the young persons of both sex- es, the thing being the first of that sort which had ever been heard of in our parts; for though the natives of the town were a psalm- singing race, like all genuine NewEnglanderSj yet they had hitherto learned to sing much in OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 87 the saQie way as they learned to talk, not by theory, but in the plainest way of practice, each individual joining in with the strains that were chanted at meeting according lo the best of his judgment. In this method, as the reader may suppose, they made but a blundering sort of melody, yet as the tunes were few, and each note drawled out to an unconscionable length, all were more or less familiar with their parts, or if they got into the wrong key, had time to change it ere the line was ended. But things were now to be set on a different footing; great deeds were to be done, and each one Avas anxious to make a figure in the grand choir. All the young people of the parish were assembled, and we began operations. How we got through our first essays, I need not say, except that we made awkward work enough of it. There were a great many voices that seemed made for nothing but to spoil all our melody; but what could we do 7 All were determined to learn to sing, and Hopper Paul was of opinion that the bad voices would grow mellow by practice, though how he could think so whenever he heard his own, passes my comprehension. However, we could all raise and fall the notes, and that m OUR SINGING SCHOOL. was something. We met two evenings in. each week during the winter, and by the beginning of spring we had got so well drilled in the gamut that we began to practise regu- lar tunes. Now we breathed forth such me- lodies as I think have seldom been heard elsewhere; but as we had no standard of excellence to show us the true character of our performances, we could never be aware that our music was not equal to the harmony of the spheres. It was thought a peculiar excellence to sing through the nose, and take a good reasonable time to swell out every note. Many of us were apt to get into too high a key, but that was never regarded, provided we made noise enough. In short, after a great deal more practice we were pro- nounced to be thoroughly skilled in the sci- ence, for our lungs had been put to such a course of discipline that every one of us could roar with a most stentorian grace; and as to our commander in chief, no man on earth ever deserved better than he, the name of Boaner- ges, or Sun of Thunder. It was decided, therefore, that on Fast day next, we should take the field; so we were all warned to prepare ourselves to enter the singing seats at the meeting on that eventful OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 89 day. Should I live a thousand years, I shall never forget it : this was to be the first public exhibition of our prowess, and we were ex- horted to do our best. The exhortation was unnecessary, for we were as ambitious as the most zealous of our friends could desire, and we were especially careful in rehearsing the tunes beforehand. The day arrived, and we marched in a body to take possession. No stalwart knights, at a tournament, ever spur- red their chargers into the lists with more pompous and important feelings than we entered the singing seats. The audience, of course, were all expectation, and when the hymn was given out, we heard it with beat- ing hearts. It was amusing, however, in the midst of all our trepidation, to witness the counte- nance of Deacon Dogskin, who was obliged to sit facing us during the whole service. His looks were as sour and cynical as if he could have driven us out of the house, and he never vouchsafed to cast a glance at us from beginning to end of the performance. There was another person who had been a great stickler for the ancient usage. This was Elder Darby, who had been head singer under the Deacon's administration, and looked upon 90 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. himself as dividing the honors of that system with the Deacon himself. He accordingly- fought hard against the innovation, and was frequently heard to declare that the whole platform of christian doctrine would be under- mined, if more than one line was suffered to be sung at a time. In fact, this personage, being what is emphatically called a '' weak brother," but full of zeal and obstinacy, gave us a great deal more trouble than the Deacon, who was not deficient in common shrewdness, notwithstanding his oddities. This was a bitter day, therefore, to Elder Darby, who felt very awkward at finding his occupation gon€, and his enemies triumphant all in the same moment. But we were now called upon to sing, and every eye, except those of the Deacon and a few others, was turned upward: the hymn was given out, Hopper Paul brandished, his pitch-pipe and set the tune, and we began with stout hearts and strong lungs. Such sounds had never been heard within those walls before. The windows rattled, and the ceiling shook with the echo, in such a manner that some people thought the great chandelier would have a down-come. Think of the united voices of all the sturdy, able-bodied OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 91 lads and lasses of the parish pouring forth the most uproarious symphony of linked sweet- ness long drawn out, that their lungs could furnish, and you will have some faint idea of our melodious intonations. At length we came to a verse in the hymn where the words chimed in with the melody in such a striking and effective manner that the result was overpowering. The verse ran thus : — So pilgrims on the scorching sand, Beneath a burning sky, Long for a cooling stream at hand, And they must drink or die. When we struck one after another into the third line, and trolled forth the reiterations, Long for a cooling — Long for a cooling — Long for a cooling — coo — oo — ooling, we verily thought, one and all, that we were soaring up — up — upwards on the combined euphony of the tune and syllables, into the seventh heaven of harmony. The congrega- tion were rapt into ecstacies, and thought they had never heard music till then. It was a most brilliant triumph for us ; every voice, as we thought, though of course themalecontents must be excepted, struck in with us, and swelled the loud peal till the walls rung 92 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. again. But I must not omit to mention the strange conduct of Elder Darby, who, in the midst of this burst of enthusiastic approbation, never relaxed the stern and sour severity of his looks, but took occasion of the first mo- mentary pause in the melody, to utter a very audible and disdainful expression of " Chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!" Deacon Grizzle was by no means slow in perceiving these manifestations of the Elder's mortified feehngs, and did not fail to join him on his way home from meeting, for the ex- press purpose of annoying him further by commendations of the performances. All he could get in reply was a further exclamation of ^' Chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!" In fact the Elder's obstinacy was incurable ; he was seized during the following week with a strange deafness in one of his ears, and as it happened very strangely too, to be that ear which was turned towards the sing- ing seats when he sat in his pew, he declared it would be impossible to hear sufficiently well on that side of his head, to accompany the singers : as to altering his position, it was not to be thought of: he had occupied the same spot for forty years, and could no more be expected to change his seat than to change OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 93 his creed. The consequence was, that on the day we began singing, the Elder left off. From that time forth, he never heard the sub- ject of church psalmody alluded to, without a chop- fallen look, a rueful shake of the head, a sad lamentation over the decline of sound christian doctrine, and a peevish and indig- nant exclamation of '-Chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!" BENONI BURDOCK. A CHARACTER. " By my troth, Captain, these be very bitter words !" ni K. Henry IV. Benoni Burdock was a bitter man, and every thing about him was bitter. He was the beau ideal, abstraction, incarnation and concentration of bitterness. Nothing dulcet entered into his composition, or could be made to harmonize with any one of his qual- ities, physical or intellectual. He was born on a bitter cold day, when the skies were bit- ter, and every body around him looked and felt most bitterly. He came into the world in bitter times, and they have been growing bit- terer ever since. It was wonderful to see how rapidly the bitterness of his nature developed itself. The first time he tasted a sugar-plum it set him a crying ; but a drop of wormwood tea restored him to good humor — that is, such good humor as a body may show in a bitter way. He never laughed, though he BENONI BURDOCK. 95 sometimes grinned sullenly a bitter smile. Sugar candy was an abomination to him. He was never known to practise the Yankee trick of Ucking molasses; and the mention of honey made him sick. Gingerbread never sat well upon his stomach ; sweetmeats made him faint ; but he delighted in chewing rhu- barb, flag-root, gentian, mundungus and quas- sia. Fruit he would not eat, except choke pears, and he thought no flowers fit to be smelt at but rue and skunk-cabbage. Such was the birth, infancy and youth of Benoni Burdock, bitter — bitter — bitter. As he advanced in life he grew bitterer still ; his whole career was a most beautiful develop- ment of bitterness. He never fell in love — not he ; that was too sweet a passion. He was not amorous, as Dr Heavyside remarked, attempting a ponderous pun ; he was amaris- simus. He lived all alone, because the peo- ple about him had sweet faces. He kept a great snarling dog with a most surly and spiteful visage. Benoni thought him a beau- ty, because he always looked bitterly even when gnawing his bones. As for Benoni himself, his looks cannot be expressed in language. If my inkstand held all the streams of Marah and Cocytus, it 96 BENONI BURDOCK. could not supply a requisite for the descrip- tion of the bitterness of that visage of his. The sight of it would make you think of all the bitter diseases that flesh is heir to, — hypo^ blue-devils, megrims, mulligrubs, north-east- ers, notes-to-pay, and all sorts of diabolical despondencies. To take his word for it, Be- noni was never well in his life; he always had " a terrible pain in the stomach," or was ''in a poor state of health," or was " failing fast," or " doing miserably," or was " not long for this world," or in some such dismal way. It is wonderful to see how many bitter ways there are of enjoying life. Benoni Bur- dock was a perfect adept in this art ; he ex- tracted bitterness from every thing. He was bitter habitually, and sour by way of a change. He drank hardly any thing but Stoughton's elixir, and once quarrelled with his father, because, instead of strong beer, he gave him a glass of Mother Cob's mild. He always had his meat overdone, to give it a sooty flavor, and could not endure any sauce that did not taste puckery. As for medicine^ pills were too sweet for him ; his favorite dose was coloquintida, though there were varia- tions of bitterness in his humor when he BENONI BURDOCK. 97 could endure hie7^a picra. His recreation was reading Fast Day sermons, and his feli- city foul weather. Benoni was fond of music, b^t it was mu- sic of a particular sort. He delighted to hear the filing of a handsaw, the yelping of a dog, a cat-concert, the singing of a northwester through a cranny, the clack of a scolding woman, the grinding of an ungreased wheel and the roaring of a bull-frog. He could sing, after a fashion, and amused himself with all sorts of bitter tunes, such as '• Oh ! there '11 be mourning," — The Tongs and the Bones, — Dirge in the Dumps, and Billings's Jargon. He had a cage hanging up in his room, where he kept — not a canary bird or a bob-o-link, but a beautiful little screech- owl. There was also a cricket under his hearth, and when the owl screeched, the cricket cried, the tea-kettle sighed, and the sappy fore- stick on the fire set up a groaning, then Benoni felt the full enjoyment of bitter- ness. He would strike in and sing his favor- ite air, '' Let's all be unhappy together !" Benoni, too, was fond of the fine arts. He had all sorts of bitter-looking portraits hang- ing in his room, such as Richard the Third, Djezzar Pasha, Caracalla, Commodore Trun- 7 y>Ji BENONI BURDOCK. nion, Ancient Pistol, and Old Put. Benoni's literature showed the same exquisite taste. He learnt all sorts of bitter words and objurgatory- ejaculations. / In philosophy he was a decided cynic, and he knew Rochefoucault by heart.j. He thought highly of Timon of Athens, and was an indefatigable collector of Fast Day sermons ; but his favorite reading was Doctor Gall. Some people may think Benoni was mise- rable in consequence of all this. Never was a greater mistake. Benoni was happy, be- cause bitterness was enjoyment to him. Did you ever take notice, gentle reader, of the lives of these grumbling, bitter people ? They are "sick of the world," they are "tired of existence," " such things will kill them," they are "just going," and all that — and yet how long-lived they are ! They survive all their cheerful neighbors. No misfortunes, na catastrophes, no sufferings, hinder them from growing gray under all their calamities. The wonder is, they ever die at all. Grumbling is the life of them. Just so with Benoni ; he was always hap- piest when there was most bitterness about him. The more bitter things he could say, the more bitter things he could do, the more BENONI BURDOCK. 99 bitter things he could hear of, the more he thrived. He felt bitterly towards all the world, though there was no partiality in that, for he was quite as bitter towards himself. He was a friend to nobody except bitter ene- mies. He was always uneasy during peace- able times, and I verily believe he would have died long ago, had things gone smoothly ; but there have been such bitter doings of late that Benoni has been able to grumble on. I have spoken of this bitter genius in the past tense, though I am not certain that he has actually taken his leave of the bitterness of this mundane slate. The last time I saw him was a hw months ago, when we took a glass of bitters together, by way of sweetening our conversation. It was a raw, easterly day — emphatically bitter ; I knew such weather would bring him out. He was as bitter as ever I knew him, and gave a most ludicro- dolorous grin when I complimented him upon the flourishing state of his bitter old age. He talked in the usual strain, for he was always bitterly croaking. These were bitter hard times, bitter prospects for the country ; things were in a bitter state, "money was tight," there was a "horrible pressure," the "banks wouldn't discount, the country was *' going 100 BENONI BURDOCK. to ruin," " trade was overdone," there would " be an awful crash before long," — and what not. Such was Benoni Burdock, and such were his rare virtues. May they be duly honored by all who are just like him. If my readers do not recollect the identical man, they know many of his family, who, though they cannot copy him in full perfection, yet try very hard to do it. Success betide them, for their own sake, though not for that of other folks. But enough of Benoni. Let us sweeten our thoughts by talking of something else ; though if any body wishes for the bitterness of his acquaintance, I think his lodgings may be found at the lower end of Wormwood Alley. DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST, A TALE. Some folks there are who never stint to Tell fibs, and publish them in print too : And various books that I 've dipp'd into, Plain truth have scouted, Ev'n Gulliver and Mendez Pinto I 've sometimes doubted. And some old -dames, sedate and cool, Will stuff your «ars with stories full, About a rooster and a bull, With grave grimaces. And saintly rogues the long-bow pull, With solemn faces. And greybeards in three-corner'd scrapers, Have told me tales by midnight tapers, Where facts have cut suspicious capers, Bouncing, all hollow. And stories oft get in the papers That I can't swallow. This is a theme I 'd fain rehearse on, For lying tales I lay my curse on : But this which now I hitch my verse oa, 'T would be audacity To disbelieve, for I 'm a person Of strict veracity. 102 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. Last night, as I stroll'd out, remarkina: In my cool way, young roysters larking, And jovial gallants gaily sparking In wild excursion, And round odd corners slily sharking. Just for diversion. The giant whale with watery spont, Had quench'd the flaming dog-star out. And Mars had put the moon to rout, Battling a wager. And clouds were muzzling close the snout Of Ursa Major. And blasts from hyperborean climes, Began to ring northwestern chimes Across my teeth, cold as the rhymes Of temperance sinners^ Which taper off at certain times, Tee-total dinners. And down the street in darkness faring, Behold J a bony spectre glaring Fall in my face ! I started, staring, And cried, " I 'm done t "■ *T is Gaffer Death, my doom preparingj " Sure as a gun I " You 'II guess he had but thin attire, For through his ribs as he drew nigher, I saw with consternation dire The sky gleam sadder,, As plain as ever you could spy a Hale through a ladder. DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 103 And then — do n't think I tell you lies — My feet refused from earth to rise, Firm to the ground that dread surprise And fright did pin them, While Death roU'd up his saucer eyes With nothing in them. And face to face to face a moment looking, My brains in fiery fever cooking, And then his lanky elbow crooking, With creak to scare ye, He made a snatch, my knuckles hooking. And cried, " How fare ye ? " Eh sirs ! 'T was not with mickle glee, I hail'd such ghostly company ? But sheer death-struck, I could not flee. So roar'd the faster, And cried " Hands off ! for I 'm, d' ye see. Meat for your master ! " ** And, Goodman Bones, do n't think to claw Your game without some tug of war. On this highway, you know, the law Forbids to forage : So now, old Small-Back, save your paw To stir your porridge." Then with his fist in desperate slap, He gave his long thigh-bone a rap, And twitch'd his jaws into a snap Of screeching laughter, And cried "By Jove ! yon 're not the chap I 'm looking after ! 104 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. " Ods zooks ! this blundering beats the Dutch ! My friends have multiplied so much, I really have not claws to clutch, Nor place to thrust 'em. My shanks were never tir'd with such A run of custom . " Perllttps you 're wondering what I 'm at. Sit down ; let 's have a bit of chat, For here 's a seat will suit us pat, Though 't is a cold one." " Agreed," said I, and tipp'd my hat, " Your servant, Old one ! " " But after you " — said he. " No no ! " And then we both congeed, and so Sat down with awkward scrapes I trow, And odd vagaries. Just by the door of Smith & Co. Apothecaries. " 'T is true," I cried, " see how we drop, December coughs our windpipes stop. And dire pleuretics deadly pop Our mortal gumptions. I '11 warrant you 've a good fat crop Of ripe consumptions ! " " You quite mistake," said Death, " I hope, ah! I 'm not quite such a greedy groper ; But there 's a quacking interloper. That keeps me trotting, And kills each day some luckless moper, His brains besotting. DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 105 " Perhaps you 've heard him named by some — Sylvester Sawdust, alias Fum. He 's got no brains, not half a crumb, Big as a button, Yet many a flat contrives to gum Out of his mutton. " He gravely gulls the green-horns raw. Peddling and preaching lenten law, And wags away his twaddling jaw, In crackskull tattle. How men should go to munching straw, Like four-foot cattle, " And drench their throats with vile milksoppery, And bran and corn-cob lollipoppery, And porridge draff and dish- wash moppery, — Sawdust, the jewel ! Stews out of all such piddling sloppery, Starvation gruel. " And swears with blarney multibrogous. If this dog's-drench cachexagogous, We suck like calves and soundly cogue us, The vile bamboozler !] — Long we shall live as Tantrabogus, And old Methusaleh ! " This nonsense babbled, straight a host Of dolts as brainless as a post. Gape and believe the stupid boast. His bran potation They swallow and give up the ghost In quick starvation. 106 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. " You '11 recollect sweet Peter Puff, That hearty, thumping, fat old chuff, Wrapp'd up in fleshy covering tough, No puny packet, But something that would stoutly stuff, Old Falstaff's jacket. " Who loved to hear roast mutton sizzling, And good fat cheer on all sides mizzling. And no more needed peptic drizzling With porridge puddly, Than my bare noddle wants a frizzling Of Bogue and Dudley. " Sawdust has played his flesh the thief, And pining under bran and grief, His luckless bones are barr'd relief. With such a veto. You might as well look out for beef On a moscheto. " Old Gabriel Gobbs, whose brawny flanks Pill'd up three aldermen's broad ranks, With Sawdust's trash has play'd such pranks, His vitals coddling, That now, full speed, on spindle shanks. To death he 's toddling. " That pursy rogue too, Gideon Grinner, I guess you '11 find a little thinner, What do you think ? — the crack-brain'd sinner, — A n't it amazing ? Won't touch a bit of Christian dinner. But goes a grazing ! DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 107 " A half-starved eel you never skinn'd So lank and bare ; Good George ! I 've grinn'd To see fat ribs by Sawdust thinn'd In such a fashion, That, by the Lord ! to clip his wind, Would be compassion. " And I protest, 't is quite concerning, To see the flesh their bodies spurning, And pale their hatchet faces turning, As cotton towels. Ugh ! 't is a sight that sets to yearning My bony bowels " To hear Death flame so hot and blazy. Against his friend, quite made me mazy, And thus in intellectuals hazy, I thought pathetical — " Old Father Long-legs sure is crazy, Or struck poetical ! " Then waggishly my numskull swinging, Said I, " Old Bones, my ears are ringing To hear you thus sad curses stringing, With such ill will, Against the beast who 's only bringing Grist to your mill." But here he caught me in a blunder. For straight he roar'd a laugh like thunder, And sneering cried, as I for wonder, Held in my breath, — " D' ye think there's no compassion under The ribs of Death? 108 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. " 'Tis not quite fair to raise a cry, Should my cadaverous temper fly A bit excited when I spy Such wholesale slaughter, Since ev'n your temperance folks get high Upon cold water.* *' To do plain jobs I'm not unwilling, A fair knock-down is nobly thrilling, And blood in glorious battle spilling, No doubt 's delectable. But^his low, scurvy mode of killing Don't look respectable. " There 's no vile cheat when dropsies drown. The Mumps in honest warfare frown, Fever and gout lay waste the town, Foul treachery scorning. And cholera never knocks you down Without fair warning. ^' And plague in sounding terror comes, And carnage snaps her giant thumbs With pomp of trumpets and of drums ; But 't would have shock'd her, To gobble up the sneaking crumbs Of a quack doctor ! * Lest Gaffer Death should he suspected of stretching the truth here, we will subjoin a statement of the /act, from the Boston ' Temperance Journal an And over the fence I flew, Swiftlie, swiftlie hard at my heeles Did bothe of those menne pursue. I dodg'd them here, I dodg'd them there, I dodg'd them all arounde, And snarl'd and scowl'd and grumbled and growl'd Like a madde buUe in a pounde. I slipp'd like a snake, through brier and brake, And ledde them a gallopping heate ; And over the wheate, and over the rye, And rounde the stumpes, but 't was all my eye, I knew I shoulde soone be beate. RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 151 Alone, alone ! all, all alone I rannewith armes akimbo. But two to one is a terril>le oddes, And when I had ledde them a hundred roddes I founde myselfe in limbo ! CANTO IV. I felte him, horrid constable ! Ifelte his skinny hande ; Slap on my shoulder-blade it felle. And broughte me to a stande. Ifelte him with his greate white eye, And his horny clinchers browne. The strapping loone was sixe feete highe, Or I coulde have knock'd him downe. He had a monstrous copper ncrse, All fiery at the tippe ; Upon my word it seem'd as bigge As the figure-heade of a shippe, 'T was hook'd, as ofte greate noses are, Like the new moone, but redder farre, And he puff 'd a huge long-nine cigarre Within his nether lippe. The constable soe beautiful Cried " Stande a little stiller ! " And a thousand thousand funnie jokes, — It 's my opinion, Deacon Stokes, They were stole from Joseph Miller. I look'd upon his greate redde nose, And grinn'd like a Cheshire catte. And we kept joking, cutte and thruste, But I rather thinke he gotte the worste, For I gave him titte for tatte. 152 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. Quoth he, " Your fate would cause to yeame, My bowels — if I hadde 'em, For I shall grippe you faste untille You reache that house near Bunker's Hille, Where you shall pound Mac Addam. Q,uoth I, in spite of certaine feares, " Old Catehpole, that 's a whopper ! I 'm readie, by Jove ! to bette my eares Againste a Bungtowne copper." The hills were brighte in the sweete moone-lighte ; How I long'd to scamper o'er them ! But my two friendes at fingers' ends, Did marche me close before them, To the taverne-house where Daniel Dobbs Sells breade and cheese and does odde jobbs, As a justice of the Gluorum. Is that his signe-poste all out of jointe, That creaking swings in the aire ? Is this his doore all gnaw'd by the rattes ? Are these his windowes fulleof olde hattes ? Is that his ladye fair ? Her cheekes were redde, her chinne was blue. Her lockes were yellowe as gold, Her neck was thicke and her nose askewe ; I 'd have kiss'd the wenche, but that would n't do, Because she was saucie and bolde. The taverne-man alongside came, Quoth he, " Take my advice. And the job shall be done for the sonne of a gunne, Ere you wette your whistle twice. RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 153 I shudder'd and look'd sideways uppe. Says I, " Give me a goode stiffe cuppe Of stingoe now to sippe, Smalle beere is thin, and 't is chilly to nighte, Colde water makes my face looke white, And gives me a paine in the hippe." Then juste as the doore was standing ajarre, I peep'd and saw the man at the barre Mixing a mugge of flippe. Quoth tlie taverne-man, " This rogue is nowe Five dollars on my score. I chalk 'd it upp three months agoe Behinde the kitchen doore." " T is a monstrous lie, you knave," said I, " 1 never was here before." And the bolte of that doore, it sounded sore Like a 'tarnal dungeon bitter. Oh howe I wish'd to be walking abroade ! But the constable he kept watche and warde, And I satte in a terrible twitter. That taverne-man went uppe the staires. And to his cocke-lofte hied, Slylie as he went oute the doore. The catchpole wink'd and cry'd, " This pedler rogue shall paye the bills And a swigge of punche beside." Then on a benche his giant limmes Sixe feete and more he spreade. But where his heade's huge shadowe laye. That fierie nose did burne alwaye, A stille and awful redde . 154 RIME OF THE ANCIENT FEDLER. I squinted slie with my left eye And twigg'd his queere attire. 'T was bottle greene and brimstone blue, A shivering horror shotte me throughe, As I satte by the fire. And I thought to sing some merrie glee To sette my frighten'd noddle free From thoughts of going to jaile, So I tried " Opossum uppe a gumme tree, And pulle him down by the taile." A charming songe, but it all wente wronge And sette me to pshawing and pishing. And next I tried " The Tongs and the Bones." But the verie Olde Harrie was in the tones, For you never hearde such dismal moanes In all your going a fishing. O ! sleepe ! it is a charming thinge ! For I sunk dreaming downe. And a magick sounde was in my eares, 'T was not the musick of the spheres, But the noise of Boston towne. Sometimes a peale of merrie notes The Olde Southe bell did ring. Sometimes I hearde the truckmen sweare. And Broade-streete Paddies fille the aire With their sweete jargoning. Itceas'd, yet stillemy eares kept on A noise that 's most appalling — A noise as of tom-cattes in fighte, With mickle furie squalling ; Keeping folkes wide awake at nighte With their sweete caterwauling. RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 155 And then burste oute a thundering shoute ; I thoughte the earthe was quaking. Suche a clatter sounds in Funnell-Halle When ratte-trappe Adams tries to bawle, And the cits for funne immenselie squalle, Their sides with laughter shaking. And then againe, it seem'd a straine Of sweete "hey diddle diddle, Prut tirra-lirra creako crack," A jigging tune which Cuffie blacke Doth scrape upon a fiddle. Ten thousand steame-boates then let flie, And I heard hotte water pouring, And then long time in grand sublime 'T was all Mount Etna roaring. In frighte I started from my snooze, 'T was nothing more, by these olde shooes, Than the constable a snoring ! The clocke struck one ; — now cutte and runne ! Goode lucke to you for a lodger ! I made three steppes and a halfe to goe ; The constable woke and bawl'd " Hollo !" But I cried, ' Avast ! olde codger !" Then I crook 'd my elbowe as he rose, And aim'd my fiste at his bottle nose, And hitte him a lustie podger ! That bottle nose burste forthe a sneeze, And an hundred pimples sheene. To and fro flash'd sparkles oute, And to and fro that Bardolphe snoute Made the echoes roare, I weene. 156 RTME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. Then like a pawing horse lette goe, I made a sudden bounde. And I "wente righte smashe, through the windowe sashe, But insteade of lighting on grounde, Plumpe down I felle in a dismal welle, 'Twas ten to one I had drown'd. The roofe broke through, and the bucket too, 'T was darke as darke could bee, And soe, heeles firste, with a crashe I burste Into that silent sea. In the water deepe I stucke awhile, Faste anchor'd; I've a notion. And my heade peep'd oute like Noddle's Isle Above th' Atlanticke Ocean. Ah mee ! I blubber'd many a sobbe, And uppe and downe my chinne did bobbe With a shorte, uneasie motion. Water, water, everywhere, Uppe to my eares did come. Water, water, everywhere But not a droppe of rumme ! The taverne-manne came to the welle And drewe me uppe to the brimme, His wife and hee pull'd at the rope, But shee said nought to himm Till shee spied me drench'd so piteouslie, Then she cried, O ludd ! goode lacke ! I see The devill knowes howe to swimm ! Then slylie hee touch'd the side of his nose, With one side of his thumtbe. And thrice hee wink'd in a knowing waye, And then saide gravelie " Come ! " You '11 paye mee twentie dollars downe, And forever I '11 be mumme. RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 157 Then over the hilles and farre awaye, I made noe stinte of stalking. — Then shaking his heade did the Deacon saye " You saved your bacon by running awaye, The Judge and Constable balking." " I didde not runne," quoth the pedlar then, But I guesse I show'd them a specimen Of devilish talle walking. Quoth the Deacon, it was an awfuUe sighte Of cashe to lose, I trowe ; The Pedler began to laughe outrighte Saide hee, I guesse 't was an awfuUe bite They were counterfeite billes you knowe ! Oho ! quoth the Deacon, you served him righte, I'd have cheated the dogge just soe ! VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. Captain Hezekiah Haultight, formerly mas- ter of the schooner Little Dick, trading be- tween Boston and the West Indies, was not long since honored with an eminent and re- sponsible appointment by the eminent and honorable City Council of Boston, being nominated by that august body to the office of Superintendent of the Snag-Marine and Projective Surveyor of Straits and Highways in the City. The Captain, on being apprized of his election, recollected that he was rather imperfectly acquainted with the topography of the city, and not being furnished with charts that appeared sufficiently exact, he determined to undertake a voyage of dis- covery. He communicated his design to Mr Figg, a respectable grocer in Hanover Street, newly chosen to the Common Council, and, like the Captain, deficient in information as to matters beyond the limits of his own ward. Figg was once Skipper of a chebacco boat, and hastily approved Haultight' s plan for a VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY, (fec. 159 cruise. They agreed to sail in company, and for further safely and the promotion of sci- ence, took into their company Mr Benjamin Blowze, ex-captain of a wood-thumper, and at present Deputy Dog-driver for Ward No. 2. They chartered a Roxbury omnibus, and enlisted a crew from among the city officers consisting of the following dignitaries: — Regulator of Barbers' Poles. Gauger of Whiskey Punch. Receiving Teller of Rotten Apples, Faneuil Hall Market. Clerk of the Snoring Committee of the Board of Aldermen. Overseer of Blind Puppies. Deputy Inspector of Dead Cats. Branch Pilot of Mud Puddles. JOURNAL. At 10, A. M., got under weigh and stood up Hanover Street with a gentle breeze. Saw nothing remarkable till we came to Court Street, most of the company being pretty well acquainted with the coast. At the head of the street found the current setting to the S. E. Got the starboard tack aboard, and hauled our wind. Stood up Howard Street : discovered nothing : bore away up Bulfinch 160 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY Street over Pemberton's Hill into Beacon Street. Wind freshened, judged ourselves near the Common. At half past ten the State House appeared in sight on the weather bow. Passed a school of odd fishes, which we sup- posed to be of the sort called representatives. In order to ascertain this, threw out a cake of gingerbread, which was greedily snapped up by them : this settled the fact. Steered along Beacon Street, but seeing no land ahead, hove about and bore away down Park Street. A strong smell of brimstone came from the shore, probably a volcano in the interior. Tacked and stood down the Mall, and then ran down Winter Street before the wind. Took in sail and steered down Washington Street with the current, which set strongly to the N. E. Saw a great many birds of paradise : tried to catch one or two, but found them very shy. These birds are of very bright plumage, especially about the head. They are very hard to catch, being always fluttering about and never light- ing. Saw also several baboons, which are said to be common along this part of the coast. These creatures have commonly great tufts of hair growing to the sides of their faces, and are much given to chattering. It is said they have been taught to speak, but this is doubtful. THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. 161 At 11, A. M., made the Old South directly- ahead. Came on cloudy, shortened sail. Saw two boobies and a noddy. Made land at the Post Office, tacked and stood up Court Street. Found the coast all along infested with an immense number of sharks. Stood off and on for a pilot to carry us clear of them, but they swarmed about us in such numbers that we bore away, after catching one of them on a hook baited with a five dollar bill. Made sail and ran down the coast by the City Hall; heard a great puffing: saw a shoal of porpoises ; — seemed to be of the sort called aldermen. At noon, took an observation and found all hands very thirsty. Bore up and put into Kenfield's Bay for supplies. Came to anchor in three fathoms of strong water. At 1, P. M., piped all hands, hove up anchor and put to sea ; current strong, rather cloudy, and ship very much by the head. Stood off and on in State Street ; — full change ; — great flocks of gulls, boobies, noddies and lame ducks hovering about us ; many sharks under water watching for prey. Bore away and ran down State Street between the banks ; — very shoal water; — no safe navigation in these parts. Hauled our wind and ran through Merchant's Row; — breakers all round us, 11 162 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY Kept a sharp look-out and hove the lead.. Passed Faneuil Hall — heard a whale spout- ing. Bore away down North Market Street ; tacked and stood through Commercial Street, India Street, and Broad Street. Vast num- bers of mud-larks singing about here : came on squally, — took in sail ; put the helm hard up and wore ship round Fort Hill down Pur- chase Street : felt a shock of an earthquake under water. Saw mountains looming up high in the distance, which we took at first sight to be Eastern lands, but it turned out to be Cape Flyaway. Coast all along here strewed with wrecks : picked up the main- mast of a Boston speculator that had foun- dered in ninety thousand fathoms of land in sight of the city of Bangor. Two, P. M. Hauled upon the lee braces and bore up through Federal Street, Milk Street, and Kilby Street ; saw a good many jackasses, and knocked down three auction- eers ; — found the wind rising. Bore away and stood up State Street : sharks all gone, and only a few lame ducks left. Made sail and ran up Washington Street. Birds of Paradise, wagtails, baboons, puppies and all such animals in abundance. Passing the Old South, saw a black crow and several owls. THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. 163 Off Marlborough House found the water very- cold, — certain sign of shallows. Kept the helm steady, hove the lead and looked out sharp : reefed the topsails, tacked and stood up Winter Street with a strong breeze right in our teeth. Filled away through Tremont Street: shoals of odd fish coming down from the State House, most of them very scaly fry. Took in sail; bent a cable; ran down Hano- ver Street and came to anchor at half past 2, P. M. General Remarks. The natives of all the coasts we have visited, are very much given to trading, especially in notions. They seem disposed to sell every thing. Wives 'are al- most always bought with money. Their appetites are voracious, and they are extrava- gantly fond of a certain food called hhumm- biiggj which they swallow in crude lumps, and suffer strange fits of madness while un- der its effects. Voyagers who go among them should by all means furnish themselves with a large supply of this commodity, for nothing will gain a surer welcome. They ride a great deal on hobbies, and when fairly mounted, will cut the strangest capers imaginable. It is not always possible to understand their language, for many of the natives are addict- 164 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY, TEC. ed to a jargon called kaant, which is the hard- est dialect in the world to interpret. A good many things are manufactured by them, par- ticularly an article called phudge. Yarious attempts have been made to civilize these people, but as long as voyagers continue to supply them with hhummbugg^ there seems little hope of them. There is a region in this country called Ward No. 5, which we did not visit, as we were informed we should run great hazard of not getting away again. A trading vessel called the Poor Gentleman vis- ited that quarter last year, and cast anchor on a very rocky spot called the Stone Jug, which held so fast, she has not been able to start her anchor to this day. THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. Titania. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. Bottom. Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. The ancient philosopher, when he had a mind to eat, opened his mouth ; the moderns, when they have a mind either to eat or drink, are afraid to do any such thing as opening their mouths. This is a scientific age, and we have so wonderfully improved on the practice of the ancients, that we must study books and hear lectures, before we can be sure that it is safe to eat a potato. I, for my part, wonder how our grandfa- thers and great-grandfathers, those tough old fellows, kept soul and body together. They ate their victuals and went about their busi- ness. It is a positive fact, they had no diete- tics — they had no system ; — heavens and earth ! is it possible ? Yes, they had no such thing as a system, that necromantic machine which carries every thing onward now-a- 166 THE SCIENCE OF STARVAVION. days. They ate whatever they wanted, and as much as they wanted, never troubled themselves about physiology, and did not know whether they had one stomach or half a dozen. They had no such scientific lights to illuminate the dark subjects of chewing and swallowing as their more knowing de- scendants possess : they never thought of opening their mouths by rule, or wagging their jaws by the pendulum of a clock, or weighing their bread by half ounces, or phi- losophizing upon fried pancakes and roasted pigs' tails, or smelling alcohol in cider, or snufiing poison in a cup of coifee, or cogita- ting upon the gastric juice, digestion, chylifi- cation, and doctoring and cosseting and coddling their stomachs in the ten thousand delightful scientific ways that modern sys- tem-mongers have invented. Our ancestors were certainly unfortunate^ and it is impossible not to pity their ignorance. They lived to ninety, and never suspected they were poisoning themselves all their life- time. Never shall I forget the nervous hor- ror of my old grandmother when she came home from one of the lectures of Dr Sawdust, who had been proving that coffee was poison. The old lady had drank four cups a day ever THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 167 since she was ten years old. She immedi- ately clapped on her spectacles, sat down with a piece of chalk and made a calculation of the quantity. She conld hardly believe her eyes when she discovered that she had swallowed seven thousand three hundred and eighty- eight gallons of poison ! — " Better late than never," she exclaimed, — "I won't be poi- soned any longer, not 1 !" And so, at the age of ninety, she reformed her diet, fully per- suaded that to go on drinking coffee would kill her sooner or later. Another old lady, on hearing that tea was intoxicating, had nearly gone into fits, and is in great affliction at the thought that she has been fuddled every day for sixty years without knowing any thing about it. With the great abundance of wisdom upon these matters that we are now blessed with, prospects are surely very encouraging. If we believe the vegetable diet wiseacres, who, of course, know all about it, human life is to be wonderfully increased in duration : they talk of Methusaleh and his great uncles as familiarly as maidens of fifteen do of puppy- dogs. The danger seems to be that peo- ple will live too long. True it is that none of this cabbage-fed tribe have yet given any 168 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. Strong signs of longevity ; they all die off most unaccountably just as they are on the point of beginning to live a thousand years. How- ever, this must be a mere freak of nature, who often takes a malicious pleasure in con- founding the wisest of our calculations. The Sawdust Journal, a newspaper which has been for some time established in this city, must, we think, convince any man who will take the trouble to read it, that eating is a very dangerous business. It is astounding to perceive what multitudes have died of roast beef, mutton broth, and such like slow poi- sons. A considerate man wonders to find himself alive, and is fully convinced that he ought to have been dead long ago. But to show that people are at last fairly awake on this subject, and are determined not to sit still and be poisoned any longer, we make the following extract from the editor's correspon- dence. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SAWDUST JOURNAL. GOOSEBOROUGH, DECEMBER 25, 1837. Friend Withershins : — I wrote to you some time since, for the Library of Star- vation, and the Sawdust Journal ; I hope THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 169 yon will send those excellent publications as soon as possible, with any other works yon may have on the subject of short com- mons. Public attention is now strongly turn- ed toward these subjects, and we really hun- ger and thirst after every thing in the shape of bare bones. Doctor Sawdust has been lec- turing in this place, and produced quite an excitement : his proofs of the pernicious con- sequences of eating food were in the highest degree convincing; people discovered them- selves to be sick who never dreamt of the thing before : indeed, it is very clear that but for Dr Sawdust, we should never know half our misfortunes. Flesh meat is now held in utter abomination among us. People are turning their pigs out of doors at a great rate ; all the cows are cashiered, and the poultry have been obliged to cut and run. As for a beef steak, I need not say, such a thing is not to be had for love or money : sausages are entirely out of demand, except such as are stuffed with red baize and turnips; and I verily believe the ghost of a sheep's head would frighten the whole community. Flesh, in fact, is quite out of the question, and no- thing is fish that comes to net here; a man could not get even a salt eel for his supper. 170 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. All the dogs have run mad, and every cat in the town has departed this hfe. I hope, friend Withershins, we shall have the pleasure of beholding your hatchet face among us before long. You would be de- lighted to see the sharpness of our noses, the prominence of our cheek-bones, and the beau- tiful lantern-like transparency of our jaws. The good work is going on, although a great many among us are going off; this, however, cannot be owing to their change of diet, but to the roast turkeys they ate last winter. There is a class of young ladies at Mrs Nip- po's boarding-house, who are living (those, I mean, who still survive) in exact adherence to the principles of Dr Sawdust, and find their complexions highly improved by it. They have excellent soup, made of pebble-stones boiled in clear spring water : sometimes they strain it through a colander of turnip-tops; but this the Doctor calls high living. The sawdust dough-nuts never give them the heart-burn; and if you shake a bunchof rad- ishes at them once a week, it is all they want. You never saw a more beautiful and interest- ing sight than these young ladies; they re- semble fair and delicate cabbage-plants grow- ing under the shady side of a barn. Their THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 171 Strength is so much improved by their diet, that they have no occasion for exercise, and never feel the least desire to walk about. In- deed, this would be somewhat hazardous, for one of them, being abroad on a windy day last week, was accidentally blown against the side of a newly painted house, where she stuck till somebody came to her relief Since this catastrophe, they have all kept within doors, which, in fact, is much the best way for true Sawdustarians. Since writing the above, I have received accounts from the neighboring town of Noo- dleton, where Dr Sawdust has also been lecturing. The good work is going on there. The people have given up eating entirely. Most of them do nothing but gape, though even this is censured as a superfluous luxury, as well as the practice of sucking fog through rye straws. Tee-total Fast Day Forever As- sociations are rapidly forming. Several peo- ple have sewed up their mouths, and assure me the sensation is delightful; others hold back, and think that knocking their teeth out is going far enough. However, the general cry is '' go ahead," and I think these last must knock under, in spite of their teeth. Brother Sappy lectured on water-porridge 172 ^ THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. last evening, and delighted a most enthusias- tic audience. He gave a flaming description of carrots, and the mention of onions brought tears into every eye. He means next week to take up the question on the moral qualities of baked beans. We are all as thriving as corn-stalks ; there is not a face in the town that is not pea-green. Yours most emaciatingly, Simon Scarecrow. DECLINE AND FALL OF THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. DoGTOWN is a beautiful place in the interior of this State. There is plenty of land around it, so that nothing can hinder it from growing in every direction, and thus becoming a great city. In fact, Dogtown has already a one- story church, part of a schoolhouse, and an elegant pound. Nobody can see Dogtown without being reminded of that celebrated town in France, named Grandville, of which we have the following description : Grandville, grand vilain, Une eglise et un moulin Voila Grandville tout a plein. Which we may translate thus : Grandville, great Grandville Has a meetinghouse and mill, Nothing else in all Grandville. Dogtown is finely and advantageously situ- ated. It stands on Eel River, a stream of water which runs into another stream, and that into a third, which runs into Connecticut River, which running into Long Island Sound, 174 DECLINE AND FALL OF finally reaches the Atlantic : who does not see, therefore, that Dogtown may become a great seaport 7 The territory in the neigh- borhood of Dogtown is remarkable for its fer- tility, bating that part of it which is covered with rocks, the salt meadow, the pine woods, the clay-ponds and the swamps. It is past a doubt, therefore, that the territory, if well cleared, drained, peopled and cultivated, would become a perfect garden, abounding with the richest productions of nature, and affording a mine of wealth to the country. As to the facilities of communication with the great Atlantic cities and commercial marts, they are admirable. Dogtown has Boston on one side and New York on the other. Mont- real and Quebec are in the north, while in the east is the rich and thriving State of Maine, with Bangor and Owl's Head to boot. Rail roads can be made to connect Dogtown with all these places, and they will certainly form such a connection, wheji they are built. That the place will be a great focus of trade when this is done, nobody I think will deny. The neighborhood of Dogtown has all the advan- tages that can be desired in a young country. There will be as many large towns within thirty miles of the place, as people choose to THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 175 build. The population cannot fail to increase rapidly, for a man can get married for seven- ty-five cents, town clerk's fees included. The attraction for settlers must therefore be con- sidered very great. The Dogtowners are re- markably industrious, for they get a living, ' although constantly grumbling of hard times. They are moreover ingenious, for they manu- facture axe handles, wooden bowls, birch brooms, and white oak cheese, and invent mouse traps and washing machines. Last of all. the inhabitants of Dogtown are literary and intellectual, for they talk a great deal of the march of improvement, and the minister and the lawyer take the Penny Magazine be- tween them. All these attractions together form a combi- nation truly wonderful. But the reader will be astonished when I inform him that the in- habitants of this favored spot lived a great many years without the smallest suspicion of what I have been describing. They thought very little of themselves or of the town they lived in, and continued to vegetate from year to year without imagining they were better off than other folks. In fact, the world might have continued to this day in utter ignorance that Dogtown was such a wonderful place. 176 DECLINE AND FALL OF but for an accident ; — an accident 1 call it, for theDogtowners having lived for so many years without opening their eyes, the fact that they did open them of a sudden, on a certain day in the year of grace 1834, must be considered purely accidental. Some people are inclined to ascribe it to the approach of the comet, which had a powerful influence in opening people's eyes, — to say nothing of its efl!ect in driving them stark mad. But that is neither here nor there. The people of Dogtown open- ed their eyes and saw: that was enough, they saw in an instant their immense advantages, and were astonished that they never had seen them before. They saw their advantages, T say, and were determined to turn them to account. Straightway Dogtown was all alive ; every body was confident that Dogtown must be- some a great place ; and as every body told every body else so, there was no doubt about the matter. Every man went to buying land who could pay for it ; and those who could iiot pay, bought upon credit, sure of selling it at ten times the cost within a year. Nothing vas talked of but the immense advantages of ,he place. The riches of Dogtown were in- ieed immense, and how they could have been THE CITY OF POGTOWN. 177 overlooked so long, was a mystery that no one could understand. The land within the lim- its of the town was computed at 720,000,000 square feet, which at only one cent per square foot, which is cheap enough in all conscience, would amount to 7,200,000 dol- lars. What a sum ! But this was not all. Half of this land was covered with trees at the rate of one tree to every five feet square, or quadrangle of twenty-five feet : this gave a computation of 10,400,000 trees; and as each tree on an average contained seventy- five cubic feet of timber, it followed that there was actually within the town 780,000,000 feet of timber, worth on the lowest calculation five cents per foot, which would amount to 39,000,000 dollars. This, added to the value of the land as above, made a grand total of FORTY-SIX MILLIONS TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND DOL- LARS ! The mention of these sums almost drove the good people of Dogtown distracted with joy ; they could hardly believe their eyes or ears, but there it was in black and white ; figures could not lie. They were amazed to think of their own stupidity and that of their ancestors in letting forty-six millions two hundred thousand dollars lie totally idle and 12 178 DECLINE AND FALL OF unproductive ; but they were determined not to allow their wealth to be neglected any- longer. A grand scheme of speculation and improvement was started, and all rushed headlong into it. Every man in Dogtown was now rich, or, what was the same thing, was sure of being so before long. Immense tracts were laid out in building lots, and speculators flocked in from all quarters ; from Catsville and Weazletown and Buzzardsbo- rough, and Ganderfield and Crow Corner and Upper Bugbury and East Punkinton, and Black Swamp and the Bottomless Bogs. Such a busy time as the Dogtowners had of it ! Nothing was talked of but buying land, building houses, laying out roads, streets, squares, avenues, rail roads, canals, &c. &c. &c. People left off ploughing and hoeing, because agriculture was too slow a method of making money ; for who would think of rais- ing turnips to sell, at twenty cents a bushel, when he could make a hundred times the profit by speculating in land? First of all, it was determined that Dogtown should be a city. The want of population was found to be a serious obstacle here ; the constitution of the state requires ten or twelve thousand inhabitants for a city ; and as Dog- THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 179 town, including the suburbs of Puppy ville and Skunk's Misery, contained a population of only six hundred and thirtyone, it was thought there might be some difficulty in getting a charter without anticipating the returns of the next census. However a city it must be, some time or other, in this all were agreed, and it might as well have the name first as last ; so they concluded to call it a city. It is astonishing what a spirit of enterprise these prospects infused into the people of Dogtown. The school house door was painted green, un- cle Joe Stubbins mended the top of his chim- ney, and it was voted in town-meeting to purchase three wheelbarrows for the public use; — and all in consequence of these pro- jected improvem.ents. Nay, so widely did their views of business expand, that Amina- dab Figgins, the grocer, determined to give up retailing, and declared he would n't split crackers nor cut candles any longer. Such was the thriving condition of the City of Dogtown when I left the place in the au- tumn of that year. I continued to hear of it through the medium of the Dogtown Daily Advertiser, a newspaper established there by an enterprising printer from Connecticut at the first dawning of the commercial prosperi- 180 DECLINE AND FALL OF ty of the city. It appeared to go ahead rap- idly. The newspaper spoke of the Exchangey the Town Hall, the Bank, the New Post Of- fice, the Rail Road, Canal, &e. House lots were advertised in Washington Square, Mer- chant's Row, State Street, Market Street, 6lc, Contracts were proposed for building church- es, manufactories, &c. — This was Dogtown in all its glory. Last August 1 determined to make a visit to this celebrated place in order to feast my eyes with the splendor of a city that had sprung up as it were by enchantment. When I reached the foot of Blueberry Hill, which overlooks the whole place, I walked eagerly to the top, in order to catch a view at a single glance, of the city in all its magnificence. To my utter astonishment, instead of spires and domes, I saw nothing but Deacon Stum- py' s old mansion, with five other ragged and dingy looking edifices, which stood exactly where 1 had always known them. I entered the city through State Street, but discovered nothing new except a small house without a chimney. Not a living thing was to be seen in Washington Square but three geese who were lazily picking a mouthful of grass among the mud-puddles. I inquired .for the Ex- / THE CITY OF DOGTOWN, 181 change, and found it in use by the Deacon as a cow-pen. The new church, however, I "was told had actually proceeded as far as the raising of the timbers ; but it was subsequent- ly sold by auction to pay for digging the cellar. I had a check upon the Dogtown Bank for three dollars, and wishing to draw the money, I was directed to No. 19 Tremont Street. This turned out to be the identical building formerly occupied by old Kit Cobble, the shoemaker. It was bank hours, but the bank was shut, and there was not a soul to be seen. Just as I was going away, I spied a tin horn hanging by the door with a paper over it, on which was written, "Persons having business at the bank, are requested to blow the horn." I put the horn to my lips and blew a blast both long and loud. After waiting about ten minutes, I spied Isaac Thumper coming slowly down the road : he proved to be the cashier of the Dogtown Bank, and after some difficulty I convinced him of the safety of cashing the check. Upon inquiring of Isaac what use had been made of the forty-six millions two hundred thousand dollars, he informed me that most of it remained invested in notes of hand. 182 DECLINE AND FALL, ETC. Money was scarce, and was expected to con- tinue so until the onion crop had been got in. It was easy to see that the city had sadly de- clined from its meridian splendor. In fact, Dogtown has suffered a complete downfall, for hardly any body now speaks of it as a city. They have as much land as ever, and so long as it continued to be valued at their own price, they were as rich as Jews ; but, unfortunately, it fell in value, the moment they expected the purchasers to pay for it. The Dogtowners are poor enough at present^ but they are not the first, and probably will not be the last people who have ruined them- selves by building a city on speculation. PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. AT THE ASINEUM. The Annual Meeting of the Society for the Diffusion of Useless Knowledge and the Gen- eral Confusion of the Human Understanding, was held at the Asineum on Monday last; the President, the Rev. Dr Bubble, took the chair, precisely at seven o'clock, assisted by the Hon. Mr Fudgefield, and Timothy Tin- shins, Esq., Vice Presidents. The President delivered an introductory discourse on the usefulness of useless knowledge and the ad- vantages of confusion in the understanding, which elicited the greatest applause from a thronged and delighted audience. The fol- lowing is an abridged copy. Gentlemen of the Useless Knowledge Association : I have the honor of congratulating you on this anniversary meeting. We are engaged, gentlemen, in a stupendous effort. The ob- ject of our endeavors is to place the founda- 184 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR tions of the intellectual universe on the high- est state of moral elevation. There is great truth, gentlemen, in the exaggeration, that the intense application of human intellect in infi- nitesimal quantities to the analytical pursuit of psychological investigation, leads to the surest mathematical discrimination of moral idiosyncrasies. The human mind, gentlemen, I consider as composed of two qualities, — rationation and immaterial recipiency. Facts are imbibed by the inductive process of men- tal recipiency, and, being rationally rationa- ted, lead to reason. This we denominate the March of Intellect : and intellect hath three branches, namely, logic, metaphysics, and dogmatics, which, being synthetically com- bined, constitute man a reasoning animal. As the Stagyrite remarks concerning the method of philosophical induction, '' Omnis ratio de ratione rationans^ rationare facit ra- tionaliter rationando omnes homines rationan- tes,^^ an axiom which, I apprehend, no one will deny. In the unenlightened mind, all attempts at reasoning are in the highest de- gree unreasonable, just as in the dark all cats are gray. Gentlemen, we live in an enlight- ened age ; Peter Parley and the printing press have effected a moral and hypercritical revo- THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 185 lution ; all men can read the Pandects, the Novum Organum, and Poor Polly Jenkms. Instead of the spelling-book and the primer, our children have Cudworth's Intellectual System and Adelung's Mithridates. Modern intellect may be compared to a magnificent toadstool, which shoots out its head on all sides, the moment it gets an inch above ground. Sometimes it has been compared to an overgrown pumpkin-vine, sprouting right and left, and grasping at more than it can hold ; but this is a misrepresentation : the mind will hold any quantity of knowledge since the invention of lyceums and encyclo- pedias ; and there is no difficulty at the pres- ent day, in getting a quart into a pint pot. Gentlemen, I say to you, go on. Let useless knowledge flourish. The world is growing wise. Man is tall in intellectual stature ; his heels are on the earth, but his head is in the clouds. The following report of the standing com- mittee was then read. REPORT. The Standing Committee of the Society for the Diff'usion of Useless Knowledge and the 186 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR General Confusion of the Human Understand- ing, beg leave to report, that the affairs of the Society were never in a most prosperous and desirable condition. They have great plea^ sure in congratulating the Society upon the encouraging prospects which the present state of the country holds out to them. Useless knowledge was never more highly prized or more eagerly sought after ; and mortal under- standings were never in a more admirable confusion than at present. Your Committee beg leave to call the attention of the Society to sundry circumstances which, in their opinion, have had the most powerful effect in bringing about these desirable results. Your Committee feel bound to distinguish with the most pointed and laudatory regard, the efforts of the newspaper editors of this country, who, in the course of the past year, have labored with the most disinterested zeal in forwarding the objects of the Society : they have constantly shown themselves friends of useless knowledge and confounders of the brains and understanding of mankind. Your Committee would particularly call to your approving notice, the unwearied industry of these gentlemen in discovering mares' nests, fighting windmills, basting dead cats, bottling THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 187 moonshine, catching Tartars, peeping through millstones, swallowing earthqnakes, gobbling down piracies, and bridling their asses at the tail. Your Committee recommend that each newspaper editor be presented with an ele- gant leather medal bearing the inscription " Ex famo dare lucem^^ in allusion to their wonderful sagacity in sometimes distinguish- ing smoke from fire. Your Committee would further point out to the notice of the Society the various quack doctors of this country, and in particular the Yegetable Diet Sawdust Live-forever Starva- tion tribe; — useless knowledge is under infi- nite obligations to these individuals, though their reward and encouragement would seem rather to belong to that enlightened associa- tion, the Society for the Extinction of the Human Species. Nevertheless, considering the immense amount of useless knowledge they have propagated, and its effects in pro- ducing confusion not only in the understand- ings, but in the bodies of men, your Com- mittee do not feel at liberty to pass them by without some adequate notice. They there- \ fore recommend that each of these persons be presented with a medal of the purest and hardest bronze, bearing the inscription '• ^tuU 188 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR torum injiiiitus est numerus^^'' in allusion to the very wide field which exists for their praise- worthy and philanthropic labors. Your Committee would further recommend to your favorable notice, those worthy and enlightened individuals the March of Intellect Cold Water Tee-totallers, who have manfully lent their strong assistance towards promoting the objects of this Society. Your Committee cannot praise too highly the labors of these gentlemen in propagating useless knowledge. The world is indebted to them for the discov- ery of the method of drinking out of empty glasses, getting high on cold water, decanting a bottle of hay, sucking April fog through goose-quills, and the demonstration by chemi- cal analysis, that sixteen thousand cubic miles of moonshine contain alcohol enough to fud- dle three moschetoes. But the most amazing discovery due to the ingenuity of these gen- tlemen, relates to whiskey punch, which they have ascertained to be not whiskey punch, but a compound of prussic acid, opodeldoc, nux vomica, prelinpinpin, coloquintida, peppe- raria, suderumhatcheta and a conglomeration of heterogeneous concoctions too numerous to mention. The most brilliant discoveries may still be expected of the Tee-totallers, as they THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 189 are now engaged in an inquiry into the meta- physical character of pint pots. Your Com- mittee recommend that each individual of the March of Intellect Tee-total Association be presented with a tin dipper of the shallowest possible form, with the strictest injunctions never to put his nose into it; the said tin dip- per to bear the Spartan inscription *'H ray "jy £Wfc T«f : alluding to the fact, that if they cannot drink out of it, they can suck round the edges. Your Committee further recommend to the favorable regard of the Society that distin- guished individual, Dr Humm, the ingenious reviver of animal magnetism, whose labors in the cause of the Society deserve the highest commendation. Dr Humm has not only been instrumental in extending knowledge useless, and more than useless, but he has also thrown the understandings of many human beings into confusion worse confounded. His suc- cess in this particular has been most brilliant, and many individuals under his influence are so far gone in their intellectuals, that they do not show the least glimmer of common sense. Your Committee beg leave to lay before the Society a brief relation of the brilliant and astonishing experiment in animal magnetism 190 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR performed by Dr Humm upon the person of a full grown, intelligent and respectable cat of this city, in the presence of a large number of citizens of the first talent and respecta- bility. •'AH things being prepared, the cat was brought into the room and placed in an arm- chair. The cat was a gray tabby with a black and yellow tail, and sea-green eyes, and a mild and ingenuous expression of coun- tenance, and appeared to be about four years old. Doctor Humm assured us there was no sort of private understanding between him and the cat, as had been suspected by some sceptical persons. Indeed, the cat appeared perfectly innocent, and every body was quite convinced of her honesty. She stared round at the company with wondering eyes, as if not comprehending the cause of the assem- blage, but could not escape from the chair, because she was held down by her paws and tail by five of the gentlemen present. Dr Humm then began the magnetic operation by placing the fore and middle fingers of his left hand over her eyes so as to keep them shut close, and drawing the forefinger of his right hand in a direct line from the cat's nose across her bosom down to the extremity of her left THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 191 paw. The magnetic effect was immediately apparent. Her tail began to wag, so much so that the Rev. Mr Fogbrain, who was hold- ing on by that limb, immediately let it go in order to witness the result of this strange phe- nomenon. In thirteen seconds there was a sensible vibration of the cat's tail, which waved from side to side, describing twenty- seven degrees of the segment of a circle. A general murmur ran throughout the assembly, ' It wags ! it wags ! ' exclaimed every one — there was no longer any room for doubt; the most sceptical among the spectators was thoroughly convinced that the tail was wag- ging, and even that arch unbeliever Simon Sly was heard to declare he did not doubt of the waggery. " Dr Humm now changed his operation, and commencing as before at the cat's nose, he passed his two fingers up the skull-bone between the ears, down the occiput, round under the neck to the tip of the shoulder- blade, and thence in a straight line down to the left paw. After thirtyone magnetical touches in this manner, the wagging of the tail increased to such a degree as to describe almost a semicircle, andDr Humm declared the animal was sound asleep. As the cat 192 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR gave no evidence to the contrary except by the waggmg, there was no doubt of the fact, for the Doctor assured us that magnetized cats always wagged their tails when sleeping. The cat was therefore declared to be in a fit state for experiments, and Doctor Humm be- gan by willing the cat's tail to tie itself up in a bow-knot : the tail immediately twisted itself round and described the figure of a bow-knot in the air. This was witnessed with astonishment by every one in the room. Mr Noddy seeing the wonderful efiect of the experiment, signified a wish to bear a part in the operation, to which Dr Humm very po- litely consented. Mr Noddy therefore pro- ceeded to magnetize the cat from the tip of the lower jaw under the chin across the tra- chea and thorax, down to the heel of the right paw : the cat immediately gave a loud mew I which in a sleeping cat must have been a sure sign that something ailed her. Mr Nod- dy then willed her nose to be in a rat-hole, which took immediate effect by the cat's snapping sharply at his forefinger. This as- tonished the company a second time, and Dr Humm made a third experiment by willing the cat to be thrown souse into Frog Pond. The Rev. Mr Fogbrain immediately let go THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 193 her fore paws, and strange to say, they began pad, padding, as if attempting to swim. The murmurs of admiration that ran round the company at this wonderful sight are not to be described. ' She swims ! she swims ! ' ex- claimed every one; the proof was complete; most of the spectators could hear the splash- ing of the water in the pond, and some even imagined they could see the boys chucking stones at her. After this had been displayed to the full satisfaction of the company. Dr Humm willed her to come safe ashore ; not- withstanding, her paws continued to paddle, but this was easily accounted for, as the Doctor assured us she would stand perfectly still as soon as she got her land legs on. '' Various other experiments followed, which we have not space to describe in detail. Dr Scantiwit willed the cat to be in a mustard pot, whereupon she immediately gave a loud sneeze, and made an immensely wry face. Mr Milksop willed her to be lapping cream, on which she gave a hearty purr and licked her chops three times. Mr Dryasdust willed her to scratch his wig, and at the same mo- ment felt a sharp tingling under his skull bone, by which he was convinced he had something there, &c. &c." 13 194 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR Your Committee having laid before the Society these wonderful experiments, recom- mend that Dr Humm, and each of the indivi- duals who assisted as above, be presented with the Freedom of the Corporation of Fool's Paradise. Your Committee would recommend to the respectful notice of the Society the various public lecturers of this portion of the country, and in particular, those who treat of German metaphysics, Coleridgism, optimism and sim- ilar ultra-mundane exaltations of the human intellect. Your Committee suggest that a prize be ? proposed the ensuing year for the best dissertation on the following subject, — " The Influence of Transcendental Metaphy- sics on the Growth of Cabbages." They re- commend that each transcendentalist be pre- sented with a broomstick of not- walnut for the purpose of flying through the air. Your Committee would trespass too far upon the time of the Society were they to enumerate at length all the matters which deserve their attention. They are obliged reluctantly therefore, to pass with a bare men- tion, the great number of old women, quid- nuncs, schemers, dreamers, steamers, system- mongers, method-mongers, improvers-of-soci- THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 195 ety, (fee, who are now exercising so vast an influence in tliis country. They recommend that a medal be struck, emblematical of the whole of this enlightened community; the said medal to bear on one side the figure of a toad just ready to jump, with the legend, ^'Sedet, etermimque sedebit^^'* in allusion to the march of intellect; and on the reverse the figure of a corn-stalk monument, with the words, " M,re 'perennms^^ in allusion to the Lasting fame of all march-of-intellect people. FOSTON LYRICS'. Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel t Oh ! what a dismal doom is mine ! To hear each mam that horrid yell Bellow'd from four o'clock till nine; When up the eastern arch of blue, Dan Phoebus drives his fiery wain, Slumber and dreams and rest, adieu !' I court the drowsy god in vain>; For hark ! the cry, — I know it well, Fresh mackerel I Fresh mackerel ! I'm vexed to wrath :— I 've got the blues^< It really is too much to bear. Will ne'er one matutinal snooze Knit up my " ravelled sleeve of care ?'• Presumptuous wish ! — relentless spite I Just as I drop inta a swound, When morning hours to sleep invite, A caitiff, whom the plagues confound^ Roars loud as any 'larum bell, Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel ! Obstreperous cur ! — He '11 be my death,, I wish he 'd other fish to fry, May throttling hiccui>s catch his breath, And yawnings twist his jaws a-wry. Hear it again ! that stentor note ! That loudest of ten thousand tongues ! The wrathful gods have steeled his throatj, And gifted him with brazen lungs ! 'T will surely be my funeral knell, Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel I BOSTON LYRICS. 197 «h powers of sleep ! what would I give That I could go to bed betimes ! But 't is my luckless lot to live Scribbling vile prose and viler rhjmies. Perforce I trim the midnight flame, And when to late repose I lay JVid-nodding down, my weary frame, I hear him just at break of day