Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1846-10-29
select Tales.
From the Baltimore Saturday Vi8itr.
THE BARBER ABR0ADj
Or The Folly of the Fashionable World

IN TWO PARTs.-PARr FIRST.

fill the landscape, yet it seems to sumber in Its
solitude from the strife and discomfort that jar
the city full and contamnate the atmosphere
of the crowded and populous haunts of man
kind Its slender white steeples peep, modestly,
above the grove that hens it IN from the rest of
the world, forming lovely picture with the
mountains which hang in the back ground like
beautiful drapery. The village, though it nest
led SO seemingly quiet in its deepset valley, Sc
cure alike from the inclemency of the skies and
the evil doings of civilized life, was often turn
ed topsy-turvy by malice, pique, and envy
SANDER, we all know, can find its way into every
spot where human foot has trod the soil.
The village of Brookdale, at the period when
our story commences, had assumed quite mod
ern appearance Many of its good old customs
and antique peculiarities had given place to those
of more fashionable order For instance, the
principal tavern, which in early days bore the
quaint appeIIation of The Three Black Bot
Ties had undergone radical change, the pro-
prietor arrogating to himself the power Of en-
larging, not only his own consequence, but also
the great Importance of his house, which with
a new exterior, was styled the Jackson Hotel
and in few years more, the old domc gave
place to fine brick building with tin roof,
upon which the departing rays of the sun de-
lighted to linger giving additional lustre to the
windows of its opposite neighbors. With its
new organization the old name gave way for
one of more modern parlance, and it was dub
bed the House The land
lord Of the aforesaid tavern, Moses Butterton,
was portable parsonage Of some fifty years,
who married lady much younger than himself,
who, though inferior in point of age to her hus
band, yielded the palm of supremacy in no 9TH
err respect Her word was the law, and being
the fag end of the aristocratc family who regu-
lated the affairs of Brookdale, she considered
herself privileged to put forth her influence in
every functionary of the house, and when her
will came in contact with that of her guide
man. he invariably yielded ithout resistance or
comment. In the early days of marriage, he
had sufficiently tried the former without effect,
and the latter always made things worse. Mrs
Butterton had little soul, encased in pretty
body Looking on her fine delicate features,
one would have supposed that feeling and re-
fnement were the occupants of that fair abode;
the soft, demure subdued expression Of coun-
tenance, was but the clear water that covered
the deep, smooth bottom of quick sand.
1t was late on the afternoon of the Sabbath
that two young gentlemen rode slowly into the
little town of Brookdale. The one was a native
of the place, and therefore no object of curios-
ty. Every body knew Harry Morton, and every
body knew where he had been, and what he had
been for, and in short, all about him. but alas
the handsome, well-mounted stranger who rode
beside him. set the whole community in tumult
an hundred eyes we're fixed upon him as he
alighted at the and
gave his horse to the ostler. Mr.. Butterton was
beckoned to by his spouse, and although in the
act of paying cvility to his guest, knew too we'll
the penalty of noncompliance, and obeyed the
signal
My dear, who is that just arrivedr
why, Harry Morton
'WeII-Harry Morton! but that handsome
man, with that new-fashioned coat, and such
pretty hair. He is somebody more than COM
mon, know
We'll, don't know who he is said Mr..
Butterton.
Never rest then till you find out
Tut tut murmured Moses Butterton, as he
turned from his wife and entered the bar-room,
women have so much curiosity now, my wife
will be between fever and sweat, until she
finds out who this man is,-it matters not to
me, one mans money is as good as anoth-
ers.'
In few moments there was tremendous
hustle in the r. House. Ser
wants running to and fro with brushes, basins,
pitchers, bootjacks, &c. &c, while the mis-
tress was busy in giving orders and making liz
quiries.
Theodore, Theodore
Comm, madam
Il believe in my soul, YOU are getting as
deaf as post. l say, what gentlemen is that
in the barr
Il hav'nt found out, yet ma am
We'll, don't stop till you do and mind, boy,
if he is from Richmond, or down low, tell Patty
TO put on the sun-hower quilt that your Miss
hudllu6 AlLCIlu HlduCj anu HdllS up hhC
with your Miss Josephine's knitting, and be sure
if he inquiries whose work it is, to tell him
your young msuesses; but if you find out he
is just some common person, put on the calico
spread, and never mind the curtains
Law, missus, he be gemmau, OATS clar-
see how nice he head look, and how nice he
coat fit
That's no sign-many a one puts on the
arts of gentleman, that has no title to them.
If you find he is real gentleman and not one
of your stage contractors, or some such thing,
put the damask napkins on the table, and tell
Dolly to make wafles'
Well said Mr.. Butterton, who entered the
room, and heard his wife's concluding remark,
. don't see why stage contractor may not like
damask napkins, or waffles, as well as other
folks
No doubt they are great things with you,
Mr. Rutterton hut I've been used TO better --