The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1836-1851, 1841-10-13

IcN for he was kilt in the field Of battle,
hghtin' the Frinch; so, coshla, tell all
the bows I'm ded; sell the furniture TO get
a hcarsc; and let me have an iIigant fn-
neral. Do, Biddy, bury me dacnt.
"Yours, till death does us part.
"TIM FLANAGAN.
"P. S. Hurry. or the docthors will
have me, and they'll cut me up in bits
to lecthur on me body-jnst as Tom
Horan, the school-masler, used to cut up
a praytec, when he'd be .lecthurin' on al
zebra and explainin' the sides and angles
of parallelogram. The docthors!-Hur-
ry! 1. +.
Poor Peggy opened the letter, saw the
announcement of Tins death, and read,
her eyes suifused in tears, his dying IN
junction to her to save him from the seal
pel of the surgeons. Without once per-
ceiving the absurdity it contained, or stop
ping to critcise its incongruities, she ran
to the undertakers; hired hearse and
carriage, and, accompanied by couple Of
Tins friends OH horseback, hurried on to
the Hospital. Having arrived there, Peg
gy, in that painlive funeral cry-half me-
lody and half mourning-pcculiar4to the
peasantry of her sex in the West OF Ire
land, kcancd out as she left the carriage:
"Oh thin, Tim, Tim, wick o-machree, why did
you die2 =
And leave me in furrcign land, without frind
Sure, when you were by Me side didn't fear the
fayver;
But now that you're gone, who's to protect mo at
all at ALI"
"Wlal's the matter, my good woman!
says the gentleman who ofic!atcs as clerk
of the Hospital; "what's the nlalterT
Poor Biddy hecde. not what he said
She had lost--so she thought-hcr Tim;
and her mind was too fall of grief to en-
tertain a thought that was not of him.
One Of Tins equestrian friends, how
ever, replied in surly tone-"She wants
the body of her dead husband, and she
mus, have it too. Don't think you're GO
in to learn the art of KILN people and
cutlin' off limbs upon him, tho he d1d
die in the Charity Hospital.
"Pray, what's his narnep inquired the
clerk.
"His name was Tim Flanagan; but he's
dead now-lhe Lord be good to his sowl!
and in troth, if he. was aliue and in his
own fathers house to-day,Eit isn't deatt
he'd be in a Charity Hospital!' replied
Tins friend.
"rim Flangan why he's not dead.i!
is but short time since he took his soup!,
said the clerk.
"Yis, and be gor it isn't long till VIC
give you your tay, if you don't let us
have the bodyw said Tins, friend.
In short, they would have Tim dead;
and they would have the body; and they
would 60 up to the room in which they
knew him to be, or to have been. Up,
therefore, they went. Tim had just fallen
into a slumber, after having taken hls
soup. He was dreaming Of the green
fields of his childhood, or, mayhap, OF
that period of life still green in his memo
ry, which the frosls Of adversely could
never render wllhered or arid--,hat peri
cd when the rosy check and soft blue eye
of Peggy first
"Caught his youthful fancy"
Whatever he was dreaming OF, Peggy
was thinking of but him. She flew to
give him an embrace, but before she could
clasp his horizontal form he had awoke,
and sprung upright in the bed as suddenly
as if he had been galvanized.
Peggy fainted-Tim's two courageous,
equestrian friends ran to the gate, mount.
ed their horses and gallopped home,
swearing they saw Tim Flanigan's ghost;
that every room in the Hospital was
haunted with sperets, and that they'd ne
yer go for Tins corpse again till there
had been three masses said for the repose
of his sowl.
Peggy soon recovered, and instead of
finding Tim corpse was rejoicced to find
him convalescent.-Picayune.
Tile question Sculcd.-Mr. Editor: l