Alexandria gazette & daily advertiser. [volume] (Alexandria [Va.]) 1817-1822, 1820-07-17
catnstrophe shows) from The dread OF being
poisoned he use Of the very ailments.
Which had hiihertokept her in existence.
Charleston Gazette.

Y W
which had hitherto kept her in existence.
Charleston Gazette.
g DEATH IS IN THE poT..
We bless our stars that a knowledge 81
the art Of cookery Goes not constitute any
part of our requirements. We are SO tho.
roughly convinced a prsoyi Of the disgusting
characterof its secrets and the impnnity Of
its details, that we are quite sure, q more
intimate acquaintance with them would have
embittered our existence, s. have destroyed
for ever the usual healthy tone OF our sto'
mach. We make it point, therefore, uni
formly, to lul our suspicious, and to discuss
any savoury dish that may be placed before
US, without asking any questions about its
ingredients. It's really much more agree
able to be allowed quietly to mistake a
stewed cat for rabbit. than to be made post
tactun,, accessories to the deception. When
we have finished our sailed, we are by no
means anxious to receive any proofs, howe
yer clear, that il was seasoned with pre-
paration of Whales Blubber, instead OF
Florence oil. And we should consider our
selves under avery triHing obligation to any
" damned good natured friend" who should
take the trouble of denominating that the
Rein Deer tongue, which give so pleasant a
relish to our breakfast, had been re.
Gently distracted from the jaws of some
distempered poodle. Mistortunes of this
kind, it is impossible for human sagacity to
prevent, while they are perhaps too grew
Gus for human patience to bear. Our best
refuge, therefore, is our ignorance, and
where that alone constitutes our happiness,
surely we must agree with the poet. that it is
indeed folly to be wise.
From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine for
March.
LETTER
From an elderly Genslswoman to Mr.. Chris.
topher North.
MY DEAR MR.. NORTH,
much fear that this is the last letter you
will ever receive from your old friend
I" Pm wearin' ava, Kit! to the land o.
leal 20 and that too, under the influence of a
complication of disorders, which have been
undermining my constitution, Originally a
sound and stout one for upwards Of hail a
century. Look TO yourself, my much re-
spected iad--and think no more of your
rheumatism. That, believe me, is mere
triAe-but think of what you have been do.
ing, since the Peace Of 1898. (ln that year
" ere you born) in the eating and drinking
way, and tremble know, my dear Kit,
that you never were gormandizer, nor a
sot neither surely was but it matters
not---the most abstemious of US all, have
gone through fearful trials, and have not
skill in figures to cast up the poisonous con-
tents of my hapless stomach for nearly three-
score years. You would not know me now ;
] had not the slightest suspicion of myself in
the looking glass this morning. Such face!
so wan and wo-begone! Nosucb person drew
Priam's curtains at dead Of night, or could
have told him bali his Troy was burnt.
Well-hear ne come to the point. re.
member now, perfectly well, that have
been out Of sorts all my life time and the
causes Of my continual illness, have this
day been revealed to me. May my melan-
cboly fate be warning 10 you, and all your
dear contributors, a set of men whom the
world could i'll spare al this crisis. Mr.. Edi-
tor-Ihaye been poisoned.
4 You must know, that became personally
acquainted, few weeks ago, quite acci-
'dentally, with that distinguished chemist,
well known in our metropolis by the name
of g Death in the pots He volunteered a
visit to me at breakfast, last Thursday. and
Iacceptcd him. just as ] had poured out
the first cup Of tea, and was extending it
graciously towards him, he looked at me, and
with low, hoarse, husky voice, like Mr..
Kean's, asked me il were not excessively
i'll had not had the least suspicion O!
being so-but there was terrible some.
thing in $ Death in the pot's'' face. which
told me / was dead woman. | immedi
iately got up--l mean strove to get up. to
ring the bell for a clergyman--bnt tainted
away. On amaking from my swoon. be-
held $. Death in the Pot' still staring with
his iateiul eyes-and croaking out, half in
soliIoouy. half in Tete -a.tetc. " there IS not