Fremont weekly freeman. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1850-1853, 1852-11-06
Does John Mutt live Here.

/
The following amusing story Of a celebra.
ted practical joker Of Boston, Aunho Mackay,
is told in the N. Y. Dutchman.
One cold, raw November night in the year
ls-, the wind blew as though il would blow
down old Fauneil Hall & the rain fell in such
torrents that Bunker Hill was nearly washed
away. The sky was IS black a. ''all round
my hat" and the air was compounded Of
that delightful mixture Of frost and moisture,
in which there is enough Of :he latter to open
the pores. while the former goes directly to
the heart. In the midst of this rumbling of
the elements, tall figure might be seen win
ding steadily along through narrow streets
and lonely alleys, shod with a pair of fisher
mans boots, and enveloped in huge pea
jacket, for indeed rubbers and Mackintoshes
were unknow in those days, until it halted
under the window of lone cottage, at some
distance from the town, and. the family hav-
ing been some time in bed, knocked violently
at the door. At first his rude summons was
unanswered: but after repeated thumps. a
bed room window was thrown up, and =
voice demanded who was there?
"Pray, sir" said Macksy. for it vas he,
s'will you be kind enough to tell me if per-
son named Mutt lives 10 this neighborhood!" !"
"To be sure he does" replied the voice
from the window; "he lives here"
II am glad of that!" said M.. "for the
night is very stormy, and have something
of great importance to communicate to him."
"Ofgrest Importance, did you say ? know
Of nothing very important that can concern
me at this hour of the night; but whatever it
is, let US hear it. l aln the person you want"
"SPeak little louder, if you please" said
NJ. II am somewhat deaf, and the spout
makes such noise. Did you say your name
was NunW
"Certainly did; wish you would make
haste to communicate whatever you have to
say. for have nothing on but my shirt 4
nightcap, and the winds is Whistling through
me, nation cold"
"Have you got an uncle in Boston-child-
less and very old-worth ten thousand dol
lars 3"
AT this question long-pointed white
nightcap was thurst out of window; and in
an instant, together with the shirt-collar that
followed, it was saturated with rain.
"What did you say about an uncle, and
ten thousand dollarsl There is my uncle
Wheeler is very old, and very rich; but what
about him ?"
oh nothing as yet till am certain of
my man. There may be great many Nuts
here. 1t is John Mutt want"
Il am the mani" said the voice in the
night-cap. "There is no mistake. There is
not q man for 90 miles round with the name
of Mutt but me: and besides my christian
name is John: and have an uncle in Boston"
BY this time the whole back and sleeve of
the shirt were out of the window, the tassel at
the end Of the white night-cap nearly touched
the green palings in front Of the house; and,
had there been light enough to have seen, a
painter might have caught an attitude Of
straining anxiety, and face, or rather two
faces. for by this time there was a female
peering over Nuts shoulder, beaming with
the anticipation OF good fortune to come.
"welI,'' said Mackay, very deliberately.
Il suppose may venture to speak out; but
mind, if there is any mistake, you cannot say,
it was my fault"
mo. certainly not!' cried two voices from
the window.
you say your name is John Mutt, do you? ?"
81 do"
"Well. then, all thai have to say is, may
the Devil crack you!"
The two heads were drawn in like light
ming from the rain; and as the window was
slamed down with violence that bespoke
rage and disappointment, loud Eorse-laugh
rose upon the wind, and the lover Of practical
Jokes turned on his heels 10 trudge home
ward through the mist rs the good woman
inside was going in search Of the tinder-box
to enable her to hunt dry chemises, shirts and
night-caps.
This story was many years afterwards done
into verse. after the manner of Coleman the
Younger. by a clever student Of Harvard
University. but all that remember Of the
poetry, are the two concluding lines
''Aud il your name ne certainly John Mutt.
Why, then the devel crack yUu!'