Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1851-04-25


It is always best and wsest to face danger boldly
and confront adversely with firm and steadfast
en. and 50 to speak, to grin it out OF countenance
as the honorable DAVID CROCKETT used 70 DO the
s bars.n Every day affords fresh illustrations OF
this truth, and even at the present moment we can
see it exempfed in the most striking manner IN the
case of big SOW in front Of the State Bank, about
midway between that public institution, and that
still more public and Indispensable establishment
the Office of the Journal The matronly lady of the
porcne race is accompanied by her young and inter-
esting family, who seem to be aged just seven days;
at least, such is the Interpretation re have put upon
their constant repetition of the word week! week!
She is attacked by an ugly dog with felonious
countenance and bad chronological developments;
she faces round to meet the foe, whom she salutes
with short angry grunt-the dog backs-she pur-
sues-he rallies-she retreats-her little gath
er around her for protection-she again advances to
the charge and her canine foe fairly turns TAIL
cealing that expressive member between his hind
legs and thereby barely saving it from the enraged Ia
DIV swine. We draw veil over the tender endear-
ments of that happy family of big and little pigs it
is as the novelists say about lowers meetings, I" a
scene too sacred for words Neither will we cloud
the Dr1SHC sunshine Vi eoo ACCe-
ing by visions of the dark and dreadful doom that
awaits those little pigs with their tails all curled"
Like all of u.s. they must dieths is the common lot
but to die by the hand of the butcher, to have
their little Threats cut-to be made into pork steaks
and sasscngers-to be hung like felons and smoked
into bacon-to have their fat bedivilled into bears
grease-th.s is horrible most horrible! But they
will die like PATRIOTS for their countrys good, and
their virtues will live after them from their pure
and unpoluted" lard will be made oil to enlighten
the nations, and they will obtain place near the
hearts of those by whom they will be eaten. And
even the dog may, in death, bear them company
perhaps he will mingle in the sassenger, and
rest quietly in the stomach. Thus it is that
death levels all distinctions and reconciles all feuds
the wild heath of Culoden covers alike the Saxon
and the Celt, who fell that bloody field, and the
harebell blooms as bright and fragrant though
never moistened by any other rain than that of
Heaven. Belgium has no fairer scene than that of
Waterloo and the simple husbandman gathers the
golden grain, contented and happy: careless m
conscious that every cod beneath his foot has once
throbbed with the life pulse of humanity-that eve
ry of grain may have sprung from the fbres of
a human heart. So it is with sausages. AS we
view their fair exterior, we wot not how friends and
foes may have mingled there Who separate
their component parts and say, with certainty. which
is hog and which is dog! Who, as he swallows the
savory morsel permits his fancy to view the animals
in their happy infancy, when
They walked in beauty like the night
Of sunny chimes and starry skies
when there was music in their grunt and Heaven in
their eye when the tender mother calamity defend
ed them against dogs and little niggers and they
looked upon her the greatest and best of created
sows! Who repeat, knows how to eat sausa.
ges with discrimination sentiment? Few, very
| few, we fear The sausage is the Waterloo of gas
tronomy the burying place of luminosity, the mauso
leum of quadrupeds.
| But we set out with an axiom, and must END
with moral deduction. Now what want to i'm
press upon the minds of the rising generation is the
necessity of standing up to the rack and the danger
of turning tail. Had the SOW turned to run, the dog
would have had her by the ear and then there would
have been great cry and little wool, which would
have annoys considerably, to say nothing of thu
Inconvenience to her hogship; Whereas by main
tanning her ground she saved her bacon. All tina
about sausages and Waterloo throw in. It i
Court week, and we cannot pay proper attention tt
politics, so we write nonsense, which, "please thu
pigs; will not do again until-the next time. 81
ends the homily. Eight men and a little boy!