Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1849-01-26
MISCELLANEOUS.
From The Prisoner's Friend.
The Troublesome NeighbOrS.
by MRS. NJ. A. LivERMoRF.

Fine weather, this, for haying! You've got
a heavy piece Of grass here 10 cut And the
speaker, a stout, athletic man, with a scythe
swung over his shoulder, advanced 10 the
fence Of the moving lot, and resting one foot
upon the rails, and leaning with the unoccu-
pied arm upon the top of the fence, seemed
meditating a little gossip, or neighborly chit
chat.
Yes, yes, beautiful weather? replied Mr..
Taylor, ceasing his employment, and wiping
his scythe-blade with a handful OF the newly
cut grass, and I'm out bright and early, try
ing TO make the most Of it while it LASTS
Make hay while the sun Shines is the old
proverb, you know
That's it, SIR was the rejoinder. "A few
moro of these hot days will carry us through
haying. But how happens it that you are at
work alone? | hired all the hands l could
raise, and mean 10 wind up by tomorrow
night, il the weather holds good
Il haven't much help. and what have
doesn't get on the ground very early. tried
10 hire The L.awrences to-day, but James
couldn't, and Dick ,Uouidni come, and SO l
had to do without them
And | should rather do without, than with
them, if were you. | never want one of
those Lawrences 10 come within gur-shot of
me, the ugly dogs. To live in the town with
them is enough. BY the way, sir, have you
heard that Dick is going to move into that
house opposite youP
'Ah! Dick shifts about some, doesn't he!
But that house isn't tenantable. II leaks,
the stills are rotting away, the plastering has
fallen of, the chimnies smoke, and there
isn't a window in it that hasn't broken panes.'
Just the place, then, for Dick and his fam
ily, wouldn't rent them a decent house OF
mine, unless / wanted it ruined. | pity you,
if you are going TO have him for a neighbor.
You'll find him a hard customer, | can tell
you
.Oh! ! don't know replied the charitable
Mr.. Taylor; dick isn't the worst fellow
that ever lived. His bark is worse than his
bite, you may depend. A great deal is said
against him, but you can't believe all that
you hear
"A great deal is said against him! y repeat
ed Mr.. Watson; Il tell you he is Satan's
own child-the very worst scape-grace that
went unhung. He is a complete nui-
sance wherever he lives, and generally gets
turned out Of every house he hires. Nobody
lives near him in peace, and for his boys, all
have got TO say is. that they'll swing on
the gallows before they are men, unless they
mend their ways
Pm sorry TO hear such an account Of them,
Watson; and it certainly isn't pleasant
10 think of having such people for neighbors.
However, | hope there'll be no difficulty
But there wiU be, | can tell you, and that
in less than a month after he comes into your
neighborhood. He has bet an oyster supper
with some Of the rummies at the tavern, that
you and he will fight like the DEVIL to use
his own expression, before you have lived
neighbors a month. And l can promise you,
# you don't quarrel, it won't be for lack of
provocation.'
'Ah!' half laughed Mr.. Taylor; I'm afraid
Dick will lose his bet. 1t takes two to quar-
rel, and I've no time to spare in wrangling.'
well, we shall see! 'forewarned, FORE
as the saying is; if | were in your
place l should give the scamp TO understand,
that il he went to playing me any Of his sour
Wy tricks, I would prosecute him 10 the full
extent of the law for every offence. I'd
teach him a lesson he'd remember, ! know
Il shall try to- mildly replied Mr.. Taylor.
{ But | hope there will be no occasion of diff
fculty on either side.'
well, ! hope 80 too; but we shall See
1t will be no fault of Dicks or his brats, il
there isn't, however, And SO saying, Mr..
Watson declared he must be about his hay
ing and bidding his neighbor good morn
ing walked on, half angry with Mr.. Taylor
for not sympathizing in his adherence OF
Dick, and half hoping that his predictions
concerning the poor fellow might be so far
verified, as 10 convert Mr.. Taylor to his way
OF thinking Of the Troublesome, lawless out.
casts.
Dick Lawrence was one Of those Ishmaels
Of society, whose hand seems 10 be against
every man, and against whom every mans
hand is turned. Born of poor, ignorant, de-
graded parents, he had grown up into man.
hood wild, untutored, and rough as a savage.
When of an age to work, he had been bound
to one Of the wealthy families of the town,
where his ignorance, roughness, and uncouth-
ness called forth many a rude jeer, an unfeel.
ing taunt, and not unfrequently, heavy blow.
These completely nulli6ed the small amount
Of instruction in morals and manners that he
received now and then, and infused into a
nature, deeply sensitive, a feeling Of bitter.
ness towards any one whom he deemed his
superior. This, at last, became a permanen,
Characteristic Of the wild lad; SO that any
one better educated than himself, weallhier,
more esteemed or more beloved became a
mark for his mischievous propensities to play
upon.
Robbing Of hen-roosts, plundering of mel
on-patches and fruit-trees, worrying of pet
dogs or cats, ieazing of children and the like
FRANKS, were tome of the ways in which he
paid off in boyhood, the grudge he owed so.
ciety for its scorn and neglect, and as he ad-
vanced to manhood his feats were on a larger
scale, and more troublesome. Many a time
was a yoke of oxen, or a herd Of cows found,
a, morning, browsing in a corn field, or gra.
zing in a moving lot; OF the roofing occu.
pant of the sly was transferred to the thrifty
garden, or the p~otatoe field ; or a bonfire was
made Of a hay-stack in the evening, or a wood
lot was fred at MONDAY; and though every
body was certain that Dick Lawrence was al
the bottom of the mischief, and though ana,h,
ernas loud and deep were heaped upon hi:
head. yet the villainy was SO slyly executed
that the rogue always escaped Detection
Much, to be sure, was laid to the poor fel