Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1850-11-29

We have always considered our fellow CITIZEN OF
the Museum a of decided genius and now
that he has placed us under obligations we shall
never forget, feel inclined to jOt down, now and
then. instance of his claim to that title.
1t is but few years since that Joice Heth depart
ed this life, full Of years and honors, and went to
join the innumerable throng ofservants that waited
upon the illustrious Father of country. Poor
Joice, who was said to be some one hundred and
thirty years old, was smoke dried wench of some
seventy years, found by travelling Yankee in a
hut in the interior of Virginia, as guiltess of all
knowledge of Washington as she was of her own
wonderful age and power of coming money. She
would have gradually dried up into mummy, had
not the lynx-eyed Yankee come acress her whilst
selling his tins After much persuasion. few dol
lars and whiskey she agreed to be lifted into
sedan-bed, and mounted on easy Wagon, was
carried off, to make the grand tour She looked for
all the world like large monkey. At seventy years
rheumatism and tobacco had distracted all her
juices, and left her to appearance near hundred
and fifty as any other age. No sooner had she ar
rived, than Barnum seized upon her, and rugged her
up for show.
The scere was inimitable. Lying on bed-stead
nicely trapped out with dimity and fine blankets
and placed in the middle of large saloon for con-
venence of access and air. she was piled with small
and comforting drinks and pipe, whilst well-smok
ed and antidiluvian bill of sale from one of the Gus
tbs family, duly certified by Dicky Riker, hung
upon the wall.
She was usually remarkably tractable having re-
ceived her religious education from a shrewd law
yer out of briefs at the time of her advent and per-
fectly cognzant of the power of whiskey and tobac
co in producing compliance with the wishes of le-
gal adviser She always uttered her pious exclama-
lions IN al eaculatory manner, repeating few short
phrases, always the same in very edifying way,
and reservng all answers to any general questions,
unless the words whiskey or tobacco fell upon her
ear, when she would generally give an expressive
grunt of assent.
One day, however, Yankee friend who was cog
infant of the whole scheme, observing her with
little less steam than desirable to keep her in
training asked her in presence of her keeper, she
remembered Massa George, meaning her alleged IL
lustiOus owner. A ray of anger shot from tie old
debil take 'em all don't know notin bout him Dey
make me say dat all the time gimme drink! ~ The
ladies stared and Joice speedily got her drink with
a soothing reproof for her impiety.
But the Funniest part of the business was when the
old wench died. Instead of finishing the process of
embalming so happily begun by the whiskey and to-
bacco and stepping her in a solution of corrosive
muriate, and hanging her up alongside of her
maid in corner of the Museum to dry, where she
would have been a permanent Investment till the
day of dgn,ent, che was given mp to the philnso
pliers for post norton.
The Magnus Apollo of surgery at that time, went
to the museum duly heraldad in the papers, with all
his students, and what other verdant gentleman he
could collect and held great pow WOW over the
old wench. We did not enjoy the honor of being
femoral arteries were ossifed, and fully established
her great age. Indeed, her anatomy would have
given her clean ticket for any period less than 200
years. What spectacle it must have been We
are q great people, and there is but one Barnum.
Scdlpel.