The Wheeling repository — Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.], 1808-03-31 00:00:00, page 1

WHEELING REPOSITORY.
(Vol. I.) Thurs day, 31st March, 1808. (No. 47,)
ORIGINAL POETRY
The Eggs.
Prom the Spanish of Triarte—Fable 12.
BE\ OND the isles call’d Philippine,
There’s one which I have never seen,
Nor do I know its name, nor care,—
I only say no hens were there ;
Till peradventure Captain Cook,
Or some one else, the first ones took,
Whose breed was such,the cheapest dish
Was soon of neither flesh nor fish,
But eggs, fresh eggs, \\ hich, for a while,
Their constant custom was to boil ;
(For so it seems the stranger taught,
And of no other mode they thought.)
Some one of them, however, tried,
And thought he lik’d them better, fried.
'Tw as soon the ton; child, woman, man,
All lik’d them better on this plan.
Another the new fashion broach’d,
Of only eating them when pouch'd.
The whim was good, and kept in use,
Till some one strove to introduce
Forc'd incut of eggs,—when one and all
Prais’d it as loud as they could bawl.
Next pancakes came, and omelets too,
Which needs must please—for they
were new.
. A year or two had scarce gone by,
When sonic one else thought he would try
To dress his eggs with rich tomatees,
When “that’s the thing !” they all cried,
“that ’tisl”
This dish, in fact, pleas’d them so well
As always to have borne the lull,
Had not a stranger come, by chance,
And shewn how folks eat eggs in France:
When lo / all h inds ply’d, in a trice,
To make tin ir seasoning rich and nice,
And with confectionary skill,
K pt adding and improving still —
E ;gs spun out thick, then thin as silk,
jN xt in lozenges, or in milk,
11. sherbet, or in conserves douc’d,
Or else with pickled Richards sow s’d,
Exhibited how many ways
Capricious Taste her pow’r displays, .
A'd prov’d that folks arc best contented
Wuh fushitns liMeliext invented. t
At length, one day, a man of phlegm
These lollies ventur’d to condemn,
By saying, in the public street,
To all he met, what I repeat:
“How vain, my countrymen, to boast
These changeful stems at little cost;
Since all the praise, for all this fuss,
Is Ais, who brought the hens to us.”
So many authors, now-a-davs,
Patch up their scraps such various wavs,
That it would seem they’ve brought these
plagues
From our said isle—-of cooking eggs.
A correspondent remarks, that the
following simple story cannot fail to in
terest the readers of the Repository_
He is of opinion that its publication at
this time maybe useful. It is a faithful
picture of the emotions of genuine patri
otism, which ought to be read by the
paper-professing and resolution-making
soldiers of our country. Those citi
zens who have made so much parade,
and manifested so much zeal, in declar
ing their attachment to their country,
ot their readiness to take up arms in her
defence ; those citizens who, upon pa
per, have volunteered their services to
take the field, would do well to consider
how they would act, if placed in the si
tuation of the hero of this tale. The
time is probably drawing near, when
their sincerity will be put to the test.
Unless they prepare to emulate the con
duct of the young Irishman, their hol
lowness, emptiness and hypocrisy, will
become manifest. While they wrish
that this patriot had had a government
more worthy of his attachment, let them
follow his example in supporting their
government.
The patriotic Artizan.
One does not see how the c vil can well
he avoided ; yet it is impossible to help
lamenting, that the health, happiness,
t,jk1 virtue of the poor should he so per
petually sacrificed in the ordinary ar*
rangements of social life. The Work
house and the Foundling-Hospital are
emptied into^the prison houses obnoxi
ous manufactures. A quarrel of a straw
sets rival governments at variance; and
war is declared. From the wheel, the
forge and the loom, destined victume
are dragged away,—to suffer first, un
der the drill-serjeant, more than did the
bear that was last taught to dance,
when his master put his feet on a burn
ing surface, in order to force him t©
step and to caper. Some maybe doom
ed to fall on the bed of honour. Fa
tigue, famine, intemperance, disease,
cut short the lives of many more. A
part survive, only to shew from what
debasement of wretchedness and vice
their companions have been fortunately
snatched away.
Returning lately, after a few years ab
sence, to pass some weeks in my native
village, I asked, among my first enqui
ries, concerning a young artizin, whose
ingenious worth, and the happiness it
promised to bestow in the course of life,
I had formerly contempl e l with no
common esteem and satisiact on. My
friends knew that he was even dear to
me. I was, therefore, surprized to find
them make, at first, as if they had not
heard my enquiry. When it Was re
peated, it was answered evasively. I
pressed more earnestly, and was told
that I would know all—but too soon.—
I was alarmed. Yet, in respect to the
young man, I could think of nothing
save calamity, without moral turpitude.
He had been the companion of my in
fancy. His father, an honest hard
working peasant, aspired with the usual
ambition of humble Scottish parents, to
raise his eldest son to be a gentleman, by
making him a scholar. While the bov
was greatly distinguishing himself, by
superior docility and quickness of parts,
among his school-fellows, the father pe
rished by an unhapy accident at lys la
bour. A poor widow, with six small
children,were left destitute by his death. *
Her son was therefore, of necessity, ta
ken from school ; and was fixed an ap*\