The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1848-05-13
a Novel Scene, or the General turned Recorder

Those who pride themselves upon their liberal
opinions, are generally opposed to military govern
ments and we are individuals belonging to the
above class. Sometimes, however, persons may be
caught mapping and taken ''nous uofus by Storm
Yesterday Recorder Baltlwin's dock presented
scene worthy of the pencil of Hogarth. On the out
side of the dock there were at least hundred per-
sons, who having no better occupation, came there
to pass away time and observe humanity in its dit
ferent forms and phases. The stevedore In his red
flannel Shirt and leathern belt about his coarse blue
trousers, nudeed his companion and remarked.
'Jim dye see that TELLER in the dock with the black
eye9 mean him there that's leanin down as if he
was ashamed-well, he and me discharged ship
once, and if he did MT work like telegraph why
then you can take my hat
Bill, said young gentleman outside, g does
yer see our old cove9 He's one of them-he prigs
bout the ST. Charles-knowed him in New York
used to wear beaver with mourning on it
take come let's go-there's Winters got his eye
on us. and | do MT like the way they conducts the
warehouses in this vicinity
Bless my soul!'' calculated an old gentleman
mentally, 'swhat awful distress there is in this
world. Those poor creatures there upon the bench
I wonder what they have been arrested for-mur-
der of course l suppose, or arson, or burglary, or
something of that kind. There's quite pretty
young woman too-Wonder if she wants a friend
I'll go her bail"
''Tim'' inquired rolcksome Irishman of his
companion, did We see Dinnis last nights Oh!
he was as happy lord. an thrathed the compa-
ny till they all got dhrunk, and himself into the
bargain. He swore over glass of whiskey that
1, Ireland should be free = and between you and
| beaive he mint what he sed. He's broth of
boy, and whin he can't carry himself, it takes four
of us to carry him. Poor divil he got into the
watchhouse last night, and do MT know of sowl
from h--ll to Connaught that will take him out.
May be he go to the workhouse and get his head
shaved, but as the summer sason is comm on, it
will be cool an convenient for his slealth''
Jack, asks a sailor, in a deep, low voice,
" amt that Bob Smith, that used to be with us in
the old Ameriky! Damn my eyes if it amt him
Do you recollect how old Captain Yardarm used to
lay it into us! But avast! the Commodore there
on the poop deck is going to call the roll.''
The police officers were thinking of thieves, bur-
glars and murderers, but more particularly Of pay
day and rewards for arrests. The reporters We're,
as usual connecting scandal, and Dragging how
that the B. had MT that broken ARM in it, and
that the d. had missed the butter case," and that
the P good paper; but all conceded that the
C. was the best of ALL Suddenly there was stir
amongst the crowd, and an elderly, thick-set man,
with iron-gray hair and very determined set of
features, ebowed his way through the crowd of
idlers who thronged the Court. One long-legged
policeman did MT want to let him ill., but he was
not to be stopped. He went straight up to the Re-
corder's desk-and those who did MT know him
thought that he was an old western farmer who
had been robbed of his saddle-bags or swindled by
some sharper out of his iatboat load of corn. As
soon as the Recorder, however, saw him, he sprang
from his seat with the ease and velocity of Mer-
curry, and exclaimed My dear General, how do
you do9" He Immediately placed him in his ma
gisterial chair, and for few moments Major Gen
eral lack Taylor, the hero of Buena Vista, was Re-
corder pro tenn. of the Second Municipality. The
reporters stared, the policemen gaped, the lawyers
looked as wise OWLS and the loafers thought that
they Were al going to be shot.