Southport telegraph. [volume] (Southport, W.T. [i.e. Kenosha, Wis.]) 1840-1850, 1841-05-11
TOM SINGER.



mad closed, when the frefnen, after the
marching OF the day and the amusements
of the evening, had retired to rest, when
the doors Of the taverns were Temporarily
shut, when the birds and beasts in the me-
nagerie, like most other birds and beasts
out of the menagerie, had sunk into the
corner OF their cages under the influence
Of sleep, and when a cab only, coming
from the ball" or the watchman's stave on
the curbstone broke the prevailing stiffness,
Tom Singer was making divers cracks"
on the banquet in St. Charles street, with
the evident intention Of heading Lafayette
Square. lfhis mind was to be judged from
the course Of his progress, it would certain
ly be pronounced most tickle and undecided.
At one moment it seemed 10 lie a fixed prin-
cple with him to endeavor TO get admission
into the St. Charles Exchange, and then he
made a diagonal driye for Shipman's Anne
,can. Tom belongs to that numerous
feet Of philosophers who neglect the outer
Tor the inner man, and who believe there
IS more real personal comfort TO be derived
from a gin sling than a clean shirt, and
that brandy and water, taken inside, is at
all times preferable to soap and wafer used
outside. Toms hair was long and bristly,
and stood out from his head like the wires
on one Of those machines Invented by the
Humane Societies for sweeping chimnies;
his forehead was like pattern piece Of
English corduroy, with the stri pes running
crossways; his eyes were like the orbits Of
boiled catfish his proboscis rcsembled
the sign Of bunch Of grapes over a tavern
door, and his mouth might be mistaken for
I'll miniature model of the Croton aqueduct.
Indeed so unwashed and unshaven did he
seem that his whole face looked like the
keel Of an old boat covered over with bar
naclcs.
AS he navigated by Mr.. Clapp's Church
he was singing that old song so pothetical-
ly descriptive Of teetolaism and conjugal
felicity
an go rolling home, boys,
I'll go rolling homo, boys;
Many a man who has a wife
Would wish that he had none, boys
al guess you're married, Amt youl" said
the Waterman, coming up TO Tom.
"Wha-w ha-what is that you say, Mis-
teri" said Tom, Shaping his old hat on the
crown by way Of fastening it more secure
~ upon his head, then stuffing his hands
into his brooches pockets 10 give himself
an air Importance, and spreading out his
legs the better to maintain his equilibrium
-''W hat is your question, individual? :"
"WelI," said Tom, "what a particular
ID fool you must be to ask me such
question. Am a married man? Is Gen.
Harrison President Of the United States
Has the u. S. Bank stopped specie pay
ment? Was that live elephant that was
in the procession to day? Ask all these
things, for they admit Of doubt, but never
insult my feelings by asking me if am Il
married man, because there is too much
painfully Distressing reality in it. Pm a
miserable, married man; can't you see it
sticking out feet all around me -
"Why, you doesn't appear as a man
what's very happyin his domestic relations,
sure enough" said the Waterman, "and
that's the reason why you cant't have no
objection to come TO the waich'u US"
ITO the watch house - says Tom
"my dear fellow, look upon you as my
protector, my delivercr-takc me in here
TO tie mcnngerie and lock mo up with the
hyena, pitch me on the tuskS of the ele-
plant Columbus, or force me into set-to
with the Bengal tiger, but don't bring me
home to my wife. O. horror of horrors"
and he ,remblod so at the thought that his
limbs seemed unable longer to support him.
"Why, you is afraid SAID tho watch
man-''yOu is n coward"
PPM afraid Of nothing in this world.'
said Tom, - but my wife's tongue, and
verify believe if that could have been
brought to play on the Florida Indians the
war would have been over long ago"
Charley deposited Toms person in the
watch house, and when we entered the Of
fee Yesterday morning there he sal in the
box, and behind him, outside the bar stood
a little hard featured woman, from whose
whitening glance Tom seemed anxious to
escape but he could not.
"Tom Slnger?" asked the Recorder.
"ThS is he, here-the wretch" said the
little sharp featured woman, in shril
treble voice, something like the whistle Of
the Pontchartrain locomotive. He was
out again last night, and was seen talking
to Mrs. Fanshaw in the evening.
30, there she is again. said Tom, who
seemed TO start at the sound Of her voice,
as young Hamlet does at the ghost of his
father.
Mrs. S1ingcr-"O, YOU
"Silence - said the watchman.
"Put her OUT" said The Lieutenant, and
Mrs. 5. was politely requested to leave,
which she did, but in the meantime show
cred a selection of choice epithets on Tom.
The Recorder questioned Tom, and told
him he might go on paying jail fees,
"But can't you do any thing with her!'
asked Tom.