The Davenport gazette. [volume] (Davenport, Scott Co., Iowa) 1841-185?, 1847-09-09

instead Of lawful suspendcrs; Of using q
remnant Of pillow case for a poke,
handkerchief; or sticking burr on ihcil
rent stocking to cover up hole and after
Sitting their worn pantnloons on the knee
when they hud got half way to meeting on
the Sabbath, Of being obliged 10 tic a pre-
tended pocket handkerchief over prctcn.
dtd wound, seeming to be lame, and per.
haps before they had walked ten rods, for.
getting 10 which e the Iumcnoss was seat.
ed. No, these arc The incommunicable
sorrows Of me, ofmc, sad hero Of sad fam.
ily-thc prince and heir apparent to the
rugged generation. To me, to me alone,
WINS reserved the awful destiny of being
invited 10 party, where were to assemble
the first beauties Of n country village, no,
going until evening, lest the light Of heay-
en- should expose .hrcndbarc coat; hav-
ing no clean shir-not even a dickcy
which had not heen worn ten timcs-sup-
plying its place with piece Of writing pa
per-airaid TO turn my head, lest the pm.
per should rattle or get displaced-and
then, just as was exulting 10 the hope that
the strntngcms Of poverty were TO pass un-
detected, to have a lady, perhaps the young
est and most beautiful in the party, come
provokingly near. and beg to examine nv
collar, because she admired the pattern.--
Often hns il been my lot to return from
the company, when all hearts seemed to
bound with gladncss, 10 water my couch
with tears, amid SORROWS which could tell
to none, and with which none would SYM
pathize. ! thought il poverty. But ! was
m staken. II wns something else which
begins with p.
And the awkward apologies to which one
is reduced in such situation, come very
near TO n mcndacious violation OF real YER
ity. Oh! how often have seen my hon
ored father put to his irumps. steering be.
tween Scy In and Chnrybdis, ndroi,ly ad-
justing his languuge so as to make an i'm.
precision, without mourning . lie, and re-
ducnd to shifts by which none were de-
ceived, because all understood them
Once on time, alter q weeks starvation
10 procure velvet collar for my fathers
best coat, we were sitting down to dinner
Of hnsty pudding aud moIasses, when un.
luckily, one Of our neighbors happened to
walk in wi,hou. knocking, Ia very improp-
or act,) and we Ind no time 10 slip away
tho plates and tablc-cloih; VIC were taken
in the very act. never saw my poor faith
CT more COMPOUNDED. A hectic flush pms
Sod over his long sallow cheek, like the
last, sad bloom, in the visngc Of a con
sumpiiyc man. lie looked, for a moment
almost like convicted criminal; but, how.
ever, no soon recovered himself, and re-
turned to his cxpcdicnts. We thought,
said he, I'VE would have plain dinner to-
day; always to eat roast turkey makes one
sick! There wns no disputing this broad
maxim.
In our town, ut the period Of my child
hood, the severity Of Puritan manners was
relaxing into a species Of gentility; aud
though my father md mother never went
to balls and theatres, they were very fond
Of evening parties, where, after cards and
conversation, they closed their cnjoyments
with an elegant supper. But oh! at what
m expense on our poor purse were these
pleasures bought! Once, remember, to
buy my mothers muslin gown, We sold
our pig, our only pig, and our only hope Of
animal food through the winter. And mark
the malice Of mankind when you are try
ing TO tower over them! The very next
week were written with piece Of chalk,
on the door Of Bob ellis grist- miIl, the fol-
lowing lines, where every body could read
them. The were the production Of some
cruel country wit, whom could almost have
murdered, had known him:
| A pig is raised Tor food lit makes you stare
Tok now that pigs IRE ever raised to wear;
But Madam Oldbug puts her brains to rick,
And wears her pig, transformed, upon her back
How the writer cnme to know the fact.
never could guess; only That hypocrisy in
poverty as we'll as in religion, is seldom
long successful. Sometimes my mother
would borrow her shawl at one place, and
her tippet ut another, and her cnp NJ .
third. Often would she and my father
come homo late on winter evening, with
out spark Of fire on the hearth, or wood
10 kindle it, my mother shivering in her
airy dress. was sent down cellar to pull
of boards from tho potatoe crib. or to bring
up an old -four barrel to light . transient
flame, blazing and dying, like tho fading
| joys on which our hearts were set. Some
times we would pull down ono part Of the
house to warm the other, % that the old
mansion was made to perform double Of.
6ce, yielding " 1t once both shelter and
fuel.
Yet my father, with all bis expedients,
was very unpopular man. Though he
was always angling for public favor, 10
never had skill enough TO put on tho bait
90 % to conceal tho hook, even 10 the gud-
geons that hoated in our shallow streams.
There was broken bridge near the habi.