The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1850-08-01
Mr.. SIMPSONS House;
TIE MISTAKE OF A TRAVELLER.

"Once upon time," a queer old fellow
named Smith started from Southern city
upon pedestrian excursion of about one
hundred miles. He was not such very
old fellow. either; he was about forty
years older than when he was born. This
Mr.. Smith Che was not connected with the
John Smith family in the most remote
degree,) was man Of many pecularities.
If absolute stupidity did not form prom
inent trait in his character, it was a quality
which very much resembled stupidity,
and mi ight very easily be mistaken for 1t,
by at least one half the world. He had
manifested singlar abstraction, generally
described as absence of mind and would
frequently roam about the streets an entire
day without recognizing one of his nu-
merous friends-apParently without being
aware Of the nature of his movements.
This was Mr.. Smith.
We were saying that Mr.. Smith started
upon Journey on the '.ten toed machine''
spoken of in John Bull. After travelling
few miles our pedestrian felt somewhat
which looked as though it was about half
tavern, for drink.
A good natured young fellow waited
upon him-brought him brandy and wa
ter-and in addition, furnished him with
bit of bread and cheese. All this was
decidedly welcome and refreshing. When
Mr.. Smith had quenched his thirst and
satisfied the slight craving of appetite, he
recommended his travels, and, as he left
the city tolerably early in the morning, he
thought he might walk two or three hours
longer, before he stopped fol dinner.
His road seemed TO be very level, and
was skirted on one side by an uncom-
monty high fence. On he footed it for
about three hours longer, until glance at
the position of the sun satisfied him he
had better procure his noon-day meal. He
called at a small dwelling by the road
side, and the following dialogue ensued
between him and boy standing in the
doorway:
Who lives here, my son?''
''Mr. Sampson, sir"
''Do you keep tavern?"
''W by, sorer, and sorter not-we ac
commodate people sometimes.
"Can get dinner here?"
"Yes, sir-walk in"
Our traveller walked IN, and in the
course of half all hour a nice comfortable
dinner. smoking hot, was set before him.
He ate, drank, paid his moderate bill,
put ON his hat, took his walking stick and
proceeded upon his journey.
Before he renewed his labors. however
he took the precaution TO fill his pipe
carefully and then lit it. Fresh and Wig
orous as ever, he then pushed ahead; but
as the sun crept down the horizon, Mr..
Smith began TO feel some degree of wea-
rlness stealing over him; still he persevered
until it was quite dark. Finding himself
opposite TO d small house by the road side,
he enquired of the youth seated upon the
threshold:
WHO lives here, my son!'
"Mr. Sampson, SIR"
''Can | get supper and lodging here to
night by paying for it?''
'.Certainly, slr-walk in
Mr.. Smith crossed the threshold, LAID
aside his hat and cane, drank cup of tea,
and ate two or three slices of toast, read
four chapters i'll "Fox's Book of Mar
tyrs," which he found upon the nIAntle-
piece, and went TO bed. When he awoke
in the morning, the sun was just showing
its broad red disc above the tree tops. He
found the breakfast upon the table waiting
for him. He finished the morning meal,
and commenced his travels the second
day. One thing simply attracted his at
tention-the road was exceedingly uni
form-but the fact excited no surprise. At
noon he called at a snug little house, and
asked the lad who was gazing out of
window:
"Who lives here, my son!''
..Mr. Sampson, SIR
Our traveller paused a moment, reflect
ed, and seemed to be coming over some
name or circumstance in his mind-at last
he said:
care there many of the name of Samp
son on this road, my son?'
ga good many said the boy.
Il thought so. Can you give ME din
ner here, my son?'
Certainly, sir-walk i'm
Mr.. Smith He pped in, swallowed his
dinner, and once more took the road.
When night came on, he of course stopped
at the first house on his way. youth
sat upon wheelbarrow at the door whit
Ting.
"Who lives here, my SOM"
''Mr. Sampson! by Jupiter! | should
think they were all Sampson on This
road. | got dinner at Mr.. SIMPSONS
yesterday, slept at another Mr.. Simpsons
last night, and here | am at Mr.. Samp-