Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1831-01-19
MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS
FOR THE ALEXANDRIA GAZETTE, MADE BY AN OLD
FRIEND ON A SNOWY DAY.
From the late London Journal

From the late London Journal.
Every one must have occasionally expe-
rienced the uphill, heart-breaking labor of talk
ing to an impenetrable person. Well, what
sort of day had your" said to lively friend
of mine. sOh! my dear Peter" said he, I" |
had the i'll luck to be seated at dinner next to the
drsariest young lady ever did not talk with. She
seemed to be afraid lest, il she opened her mouth,
Jewels and roses would fall from it, and she should
lose them. Il did do all that might become a
man. tried her with Lord Byron-I tried her
with MOORE tried her with the theatre--I tried
her with Walter Scott tried her with the Park
II tried her with Mrs. Albert-with Noblet--
with Mrs. Hannah More-with the tread-whee
the frost-quadrilles- Charles
Grandson, and Spanish Bolero:. 80 Ali! but,
my dear FRIEND" SAID /, ''did you try her with
dress? Did you tell her Of the Valenciennes
lace which you brought over the other day in the
collar Of your coat? see where your mistake
lay. Instead Of talking to her of books, you
should have talked Of book muslins. You should
have discOursed of Milliners instead of authors,
of hounces instead of poems.' You occasional
ly meet with the same sort of people in stage
coaches. :. Beautiful country this we are travel
ling through, Sirs' =. Yes. SIR Fine cattle
this stage, SIR" eyes, Sir."-"Did you get
any sleep in the night. Strip ''No, sir. "-'' Did
you see the papers before we set of, Sir?" mo,
Sir!'-and so the conversation terminates.
There is peculiar richness aud high flavor in
the confidential communications of a couple Of
merchants. ':Cottons look lively. "--s' Yes,
but ashes are very black. 30 Pray do you hold
much rumi"-'' Dreadful storm last night-Poor
jones' he underworld 7OOOl last week. met
him this morning looking very il--said he couldn't
sleep last night for the wind. BY the way have
you heard that k has been flying kites late
lys'-" Yes, fear he will be illustrated by the
Kings Printer, poor K"
n London Coachman's account of an upset.
Sam Snaffle," (t is mat who now speaks) - Sam
Snaffle shoots oft his outsiders in heap That's
not my way. spread 'em. I'll tell you what
happened to me last Wednesday. started rath-
er latish from st. Paul's. stopped at the corner
of Fetter Lane, for booked insider, and deuce
of time, stood, door in hand.-Says Bill Bar
ton, by the time it takes this must be woman.
Worse, says i, a pigtail. Well! at last bun
died the old gentleman in, and drove on to the
Spotted Dog. drew up rather short, the wheel
got into the gutter, and over she went. One of
my outsiders, very good sort Of a man, went
down, head FIRST into the COOLERS stall, under the
doctors Shop. Crispin did not seem to know
what to make of 1t. Another one, Mr.. Wilkins,
saddleT, went smack INTO tne snOp wlndOw, all
among the red and blue bottels. But the oldest
thing happened to Grub, the market gardner, who
rode iu the dickey. Jack Roberts was sitting in
the bar of the Spotted Dog, behind pint Of purl.
You must know Jack Roberts, stout, peck
marked man; him as used to drive to Manchester.
Well! in went Grub at the window like shot,
and 'drat me if it did not upset Jack Roberts,
purl and all. That's what call spreading them 20
Irish Law.-The following extract from an
Affidavit read in the Court Of Common Pleas in