The Polynesian., 1840-12-19


ance, and sometimes actual pain, which he
dealt out to the few.
Old Ben Russell, or Major Russell as he
was usually styled, was a tall fine looking
man, at that time in the prime of life. strong
as Hercules, but with Il good deal of the
ncatness of dress and polished manners of a
gentleman of the old school. He had for
many years owned and edited the Boston
Ccntincl, and pridcd himself upon two things,
always having his paper out at a certain
time, and always having in it the most exact
aud authentic intelligence. No man the city
could at word tell you so correctly the
position OF contcndIng armies in the last Eu-
ropean battles, or the points at issue in the
latest Continental negotiation. When two
armies went into the Netherlands for a sum-
mcr's work. and as Sergeant Gotten, the
Waterloo guide, says, "Ain't it the cockpit
of Europe: no matter where they quarrel,
they're sure to come here to fght;' Ben
Russell uniurled the map of the country
upon the wall of his sanctum as soon as they
unturlcd their banners in the field; and two
pins, the one black and the other white, stuck
through the map, served to mark the places
at which they first entered the country. or
opened the campaign. Those pins shifted
their positions, and either advanced or retired
rs the belligcrcnts changed their ground; !;
and when any part of the man force was
detached. pin of small size was seen to
watch its line ofmarch, and declare its opera
tons. The editor by this simple contrvance
could not only tell at a glance, by looking
at his pins, where the armies we're; but by
tracing the holes which the pins had LETT
behind them, could read you Off from his
maps, at the conclusion of a long war, the
history of every campaign.
AS this worthy, but somewhat fiery and
digniiicd person, was bending over the last
proof Of his editorial column which contain
ed IL ''icadcr' of some Importance in his
eyes, inasuuch as it gave the latest intel
liyence from France, and corrected an error
which had appeared in the Boston Gazette
relative to the movements of General Du-
INQUIRER, a strange kind of clinking noise
was heard at the foot of the long staircase
which led to the printing g-otfice, at one end
of which was Bcn's sanctum, where he was
examining the proof aforesaid. Nearer and
nearer came the noise, as footsteps appeared
to ascend the staircase, e,-clink-cIink-
clink! Everybody wondered what it was: the
ItCNh StOppCt SNiul'iiis, t!iC Ddii, lOI IOllcTS,
like Mackintoshcs, were not dreamt otthcn
the compositors leaned on their left feet and
left elbow-as cOmpostors will when there
is likely to be any sport, and the pressman
stood at the bank, with the heap between
his arms, and his ear turned towards the
door. Ben Russell heard the strange noise
upon the stair, and he noticed the kind of
dead calm which had suddenly come over the
printing office, at a moment too OF all others,
when he felt that every body should be on
the alert, in order that the ''Centnel' might
90 to press. Ben liked neither the noise nor
the silence; and as the cIink-clink came
nearer, his cholcr rose with the cause of it,
until just as it boiled up to his teeth, aud
was sure to flow over on somebody, a tall,
rawboncd fellow with stick over his shoul-
der, on which was slung motley collection
of small iron and wire wares stalked into
the Office. TO Ben Russel's furious ''What
Ithe--do you want" the Inherent worker in
iron and wire deigncd not any reply; but
threw off his back a load ladies, screencrs,
flcshtorks, grdirons, and pot-covers, with as
much GOODNESS as if he had just entered his
own cabin after profitable day 5 work. Ben
stared at him with gaze of mingled aston
ishment and vcxation, as though he were a
little doubtful whether the fellows strange
behavior proceeded from mpudence or ignor-
ance; but time was precious. lie inter