The Whig standard. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1843-1844, 1844-02-13

can DO no better than endorse 1t, assured OF it's
being the TRUTH
GENERAL JAcKsoN's BUST:
HOUSEHOLD GOD.
Jenny Maher, as fine son Of the sod'' as
ever left the Emerald Isle, is the public gardener
in the City of Washington, d. c.; and, to use
his wife's expressive phrase, "a most Elegant
gardener he is" though doubt much if the sun
ever shone on an uglier Christian Now Jem-
my, besides being an "illegant gardener entire-
ly," is very original genius, and would not give
the snap Of his finger for any one he did not think
loyal to General Jackson to the very backbone.
Sand sure" as Mrs. Maher says, its small
blame to him for that same, seeing that the Gin
eral was an Irish gassoon HIMSELF barrin that he
was born one day when his mother was out, that
u.s. out at say, the Lord betune us an all harm.
But settin aside all that, wasn't it the Gineral
first took Jenny Maher by the hand and put him
in public stivation where he could show his
jainyes to the whole varsal world" In short,
not only Jenny Maher and his wife, but every
living thing in their house, from the purring cat
on the hearth, to the cricket behind the hob, raise
anthems morning. noon, and night in praise Of
General Jackson. Now, the way in which they
contrived to make him their principal household
god deserves to be recorded. | say principal, for
he is not by long shot their only household god,
Robert Emmett, General Washington, Doctor
McNevin, and Francis s. Key, the author Of the
I" Star Spangled Banner" occupying undstnrbed
their several and respective inches. But how
the bust of General Jackson came TO be placed at
the head of Jemmy's household gods was this
One fine evening in the month of May last Jenl-
my was trimming up his rose bushes in the flower
plafs on the north side of the White House, close
up by the kitchen windows, when, taking a side
glance through a pane Of glass. he thought he
saw some relic of poor fallen humanity lying on
the kitchen floor, squald and naked, in most
pitiable and forlorn condition. The springs Of
philanthropy in poor Jemmy's bosom were touch
ed or his curiosity excited, no matter which but
let him tell the rest of the story himself:
Il whips out my pocket Handkerchief, says
Jenny, as he goes over the particulars for the
time, " and rubbing the dust off the
glass, looks in, and what does see, och mil e.
lnurrdther! but my poor darlin Gineral Jackson
lying on the broad Of his back and sorra skreed
on the face of the Twin airth to cover him; but
there he lay, and his face as dirty as sweeps,
and lither of kittens tucked unther his chin,
sOh, blur an GUNS, Gineral,' says I, is it your
self that's in it intirely' says |, the tears COM
ming into my eyes an the Kilkenny blood
swellin' my veins that thous hit they'd burst
is it yourself that's in such pickle as this, an
Il not to know it, says /; the curse of Crom-
well on thin that sarved you the dirty thrick !!
Wild that dashed in the pane ov glass wild my
fist; an the Queen of Heaven belhuxt mesel
an all harm when looked in his face if
didn't think he was intraytin' me to rescue him
ouI OF his dungin. Well, sir, what dye think,
but, as luck would have it, the noise Of the
breakin' windee, av coorsc, brought the house
steward to the spot; an sure it's nothin' but a
Virginny nagr, he is, that same steward.
!. What's the matter, massa Mere says he, for
you see he could niver get round the raal sound
of the Magyar. Matther = says l; isn't il
malther enough to make an American cilizcn's-
let alone all Irishman's-hair stand up like
pitchforks on his head says l. To see the hero
Of New Orleans, says /, stretched on the broad
OF his back says | 'nursin' clutch Of starved
Kittens says |, AN his face not washed for a
lwelvemonth, says L; an its threatment !
didn't expect he'd resaive from Mr.. Tyler says
|, an Pm sure an sar,n he knows nothn' ov
it, says |. Wal, massa Mere says the nagir,
dere's no use Oh bein' in passion says he !;
but massa Tyler knows all bout it, for sence
dis mmage warn't fit for de paror, de East
room, de hall, or any of de bed rooms, he says 10
me, says he--lake him down stairs and hide
him away in de cellar Now, massa Mere,
dis nigga didn't do SO bad as dat, for he put him
under de kitchen winder, where him hab plenty
OBJ light and de cat to keep him company,
Blur an 'ouns = says |, rappin' out great big
oath, what's this | hear Is it the impotence
you have, you lump Of soot,' says !, to tell me
all this TO my face, let lone in the presence Of
the great man himself that whipped the flower
of the British army saysI. Wal, but, massa
Mere says he, Is only an IMMAeE,' says he
( Git out ov my sight, you rMMAaE of the divi'
says |, for my Kilkenny blood was up, tell
you, an it wouldn't take three words more TO
make me jump through the winder right on top
of The nagir Wal, massa Mere, says he, If
you tink so bad OBJ him, can't you take him an
care OBJ 2 Run, you dvil. says /, an az the
President if may take charge Of General Jack