New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1853-03-22

lie perturbation within that the same power OF
acting on the stage would have made my fortune
on that theatre.
Kpsm rose-took glass Of water; his hand
trembled a little--I could see that took pinch
Of snuff, and led off in q voice slow and meas
ured, but slightly, very slightly, tremulous. BY
q strong effort he had recovered his composure
The bar was surprised at his calmness. They
all knew it was affected hut they all wondered
that he could affect it. Nobody was deceived by
it. We felt assured 'sit was the torrents
smootbness ere ii dash below" | thought he
would come down ON me in tempest, and fat
tered myself it would soon be over But malice
is cunning. He had no idea Of letting me off so
easily.
some years in the practice He would not say
he was an old man that would be in bad 'astr,
perhaps. The young gentleman who had just
closed his remarkable speech, harangue, poetic
effIson, or rigmarole, or whatever it might be
called, if, indeed, any name could be safety given
to his motley mixture of homogeneous slang
the young gentleman evidently did not think he
was an old man, for he could hardly have been
guilty of such rank indecency as to have treated
age with such disrespect--he would not say with
such insuiferable impertinence; and yet g | am"
he continued, 60 Of age enough to recollect, if
had charged my memory with so inconsiderable
an event, the day of his birth, and then was
in full practice in this Courthouse. confess,
though, gentlemen, l am old enough to remem-
Der the period when youths first appearance
at the bar was not signalized by impertinence
toward his seniors and when public opinion did
not think fatulent bombast and ford trash,
picked out of fifth-rate romances and namby
PANTY rhymes, repeated b. the upst,rt sau-
cines Of a raw popinjay toward the experienced
members of the profession he disgraced. And
yet, to some extent, this ranting youth may be
right. | am not old in that sense which disables
me from defending myself here, by words, or
elsewhere, if need be, by blows; and that this
young gentlemen shall right well know before
! have done with him. You will bear in mind,
gentlemen, that what say is in selt-defence-
that did not begin this quarrel-that it was
forced on me; and that am bound by no re-
straints Of courtesy, or Of respect, or of kind
ness. Let him charge to the account of his own
rashness and rudeness whatever he receives in
return therefor.
"Let me retort on this youth that he is q
worthy advocate ofhis butcher client. He fights
with the dirty weapons Of his barbarous trade,
and brings into his speech the reeking odor of
his clients slaughter-house.
"Perhaps something of this congeniality COM
mended him to the notice of his worthy client,
and to this, his first retainer; and no wonder,
for when we heard his vehement roaring, we
might have supposed that his client had brought
his most unruly bull calf into court to defend
him, had not the matter of the roaring soon con-
WINGED us the animal was more remarkable for
the length Of his ears, than even the power Of
his lungs. Perhaps the young gentleman has
taken his retainer, and contracted for butcher
ing my client on the same terms as his client
contracts in this line-tbat is, on the shares.
But think, gentlemen, he will find the con-
tract more dirty than profitable job. Or,
perhaps, it might not be uncharitable to suggest
that his client, who seems to be pretty well up
to the business Of saring other peoples bacon,
may have desired, as far as possible to save his
own; and, therefore, turning from the members
of the bar who would have charged him for their
services according to their value took this occa-
sion Of getting off some of his stale wares for,
has not Shakespeare said (the gentleman will
allow me to quote Shakespeare, too, while yet
his reputation survives his barbarous mounting
of the poets words) he knew an attorney who
would defend a cause for starved hen, or leg
Of mutton fly blown i trust, however, what
ever was the contract, the gentleman will make
his equally worthy client stand up to it; for
should like that on one occasion it might be said
the excellent butcher was made to pay 10,
his s1iRe.
So find it difficult, gentlemen, to reply to any
part of this young mans effort, except his ar
gument which is the smallest part in compass
and next to his pathos, the most amusing. His
figures of speech are some of them quite good
and have been so considered by the best judges
for the last thousand years. l must confess,
that as to these find no other fault than that
they were badly applied, and ridiculously pro-
nounced and this further fault that they have
become so commonplace by constant use, that
unless some new vamping or felicity Of applica-
ton be given them, they tire nearly as much as
his original Observation-Disclosures that matter which
being more ridiculous than we have ever heard
before, carries internal evidence of its being his
own. Indeed it was never hard to tell when the
gentleman required to his own ideas. He Is like
n cat-bird-the only intolerable dsicord she
makes being her own notes, though she gets on
well enough.as long as she copies and cobble:
the songs of other warhlers.
But, gentlemen, if this young orators argu
ment was amusing, what shall l say of his pa
thos What farce ever equaled the fun of it
The play of The LIAR probably approaches
nearest to it-not only in the humor, but in the
veracious character Of the incident from whict
| the humor comes. Such farce-so Woe begone
SO whimpering, as if the short period since he
| was fogged at school probably in reference tt
those eggs falsely charged to the hound puppy
had neither obllterated the remembrance of his
Juvenile afiiction, or the looks he bore when he
| endured it.
"There was something exquisite in this pic
ture of the woes, the wasting grief of his dis
consulate client, the butcher of Higginbotham
| mourning-as Rachel mourned for her children
for his character, because it tods not. Gen
tlemen, look at him! Why, he weighs twelve
stone n0io. He has three inches of fat on hi:
ribs this minute He would make as many
| links of sausage as any hog that ever squealet
! at midnight in his slaughter pen, and has 1art
enou III in him to cook it all. Look at his face
Why, his chops remind hungry man of jowl'
and green's If this is shadow, in the nam'
of propriety, why didn't he show himself, wher
| in hesh, at the last fair, beside the Kentucky
OK; that were more honest way Of making {
living than stealing hogs. But Hig is pinins
in grief! wonder the poetic youth, his learn
ed counsel, did not quote Shakespeare again
He never told his woe-but let concealmen
like the worm in the bud prey upon his damasl
cheek He looked like patience on monumen
smiling at grief-or beef, l should rather say
But, gentlemen, probably / am wrong; it ma.
be that This tender hearted, sensitive butche
was lean before, and, like Falstatf, throws tn
| blame of his fat on sorrow and signing, whicl
has pulled him up like a bladder QHere Hig
| ginbotham left in disgust,)
&c There, gentlemen, he goes, Harding the leal
earth as he walks along Well has DR.. John
| son said, Who kills fat oxen, should himself b
fat Poor Hig stuffed like one of his owl
blood buildings, with dropsical grief whicl
nothing short of ten thousand dollars of Swink'
money can cure. Well, as grief puffs him up,
don't wonder that nothing but depicting anothe