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

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ne, you may take him, an welcome, an m
lake the 'sponsi6iluy' Never say il twice,
my jewel, says Il : so raise the sash and hand
him out to me- Wild that the nagir ris the sash,
an putin the broomstick under il, lifted up the
Gineral in his arms and handed him out 10 me,
LAWN the kittens, the crathers, in dissolute
condition. | just took the Gineral like baby
on my left arm, and wild my right hand spread
my pocket Handkerchief over his head and
shoulders, an carried him carefully home to
my own. house. When come to the door
says nothin', but bolts straight up the stairs;
but the wife gettin' glimpse Of me from side
door, an seem somethin' like BABY in my
arms, she cries out to me as quick as the crack
Of a rifle, Jenny Magher,' says she, what the
divl's that you have in your arms! Whisht,
woman says to her, quite solemn, : it's little
you know who it is you give the word divi to-
vivid that, motioned her to folly me up stairs,
which she did, and when we came into the draw
in room, claps my bowld Gineral down on the
pianyia, wild the handkerchief over his faytchures
yit-och, the divil a word ov lie I'm tellin' you.
Now says |, Mistress Magher,' takin' her
bit of, in front, / want to see if you know who
this is. So wild that jerked off the Handkerchief,
and says she, Och that metn't sin, Jenny
Magher, says she, but believe its Gineral
Jackson that's in it, says she, if the face was
only washed Whisht, now says !, woman;
isn't that the very thing I'm going to be afther
dom, if you'll only send out for pound Of soap.
and get me up a tub Of hot water and clane
towel So the crather went off in as great hn-
NOR as ever she was in her life, an sent me up
the materials; an faith an sowl it took me two
good hours-bad luck to the lie tell you be-
fore | got him clane enough to take polish.
When had him, as thought, purity dacent an
fit to be looked at, | called the ould woman up
agn, and says II. How do you like him now =
Like him : says she why then, inttroth, Jm-
my Maher,' says she, there's not drop of blood
in his veins that don't regard as much as do
my own hearts blood says she; an can tell
you, says she, lit isn't that sort Of washin, says
she, will satisfy me. must take scrub at him
myself says she. Look here says she, point !
in to the roots Of his hair, an up his nostris. an
ntQshis ears.where the bugs had made nests time
mmemorial Wild that She goes down for
fresh tub Of water an beautiful new diaper tow
ell, an she goes to work herself upon the Gneral
with an Elegant new shoe-brnsh, an she scrubs
an she rubs every nook an Granny in his carcase,
until she had it like piece of spick-a n-span new
marvel-aye, bran new out of the stone cutters
shop. When she had finished, she set him up on
the side table, where you now see him; an sure
he's an ornament to any room in the land, from
the highest to the lowest; for, bad luck to such
President as yourself, Gineral Jackson blowing
to the bust] ever they'll have in the Presidential
Chair again, if they We're 10 live to the age Of
Methusaum, an don't care who hears me say
the word"
So this was the way that General Jackson's
bust came to be the chief household god at the
Globe Inn, in the city Of Washington, kept by
Jenny Maher, the gardener of the public grounds.