The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1853-08-18

...,ia ,,o down the hollow and bring out the
,,,nn,, hears. while the other should stand as
. sentinel without TO givea signal If the dam
sbou,a approach. Somehow or other, he failed
70 rive the warning in time. and before he
knew what she was about, the old bear began
TO ascend to the hollow. He quickly pursued
and seized her by tho tail as she was about
descending. Her appearance at the opening
at once shut out daylight, and the follow
ing dialogue, according to our tradition, oc-
CURED:
.aan IN ae hoqosc. What dat darken de hole I
Man outside: You stay dar tn de tail-holt broke,
and you see what darken de holen'
Now this was a dilemma we have always
thought one of the most terrible-it's what
you call jeopardy in the extreme. The closing
up of the entrance and the shrouding the poor
fellow inside in complete darkness, was III
foreshadowing of the fate awaiting him. IL
is well the story goes no further, or the poor
little children to whom the story Is always
told, wouldn't be able to sleep. 1hey are ieit
in ignorance of the result, with their dear Mt
tie sympathies for the hunter and their ab-
horrence of the ugly old bear, to hope that
the "tail-holt'' nerer broke. But wasn't the
dilemma awful
RICHMOND BEFORE DAY LIGHT.-Did any
one of our people ever take walk through
the city before day light, and see how Rich
mond looks before she is up and dressed!"
1t is a walk which will afford any one some
new ideas of city life. Go out, say at three
o'clock in the morning. You will hear no.
thing even in the busiest streets, save the fall
of your own footsteps upon the pavements.
Here and there you meet with tired watch
man, walking his lonely round, but unless
you speak TO him, he vouchsafes no word to
relieve the silence. There is nothing to be
seen but sky over head and brick and stone
all around you. All seems like city of the
dead, land the dusky lamp-posts appear like so
many monumental pillars in memory of an
extinct population. Continue your walk till
the clocks strike four; and you begin to hear
the rumbling of market wagons as they pour
in from the country. Now go down to the
markets, and you will hear the voices of hun
dreds, wrangling, chaffering, buying and sell
ing, till you would imagine yourself in Babel,
but for the reason that the tongues are al
most all of one kind, those of colored people.
The din increases, and you had better leave
the markets to watch, how one after one, the
keepers of cheap snack houses and petty
groggeries, pull down their shutters-how the
baker opens shop, and by degrees the hotels
exhibit signs of life in the shape of drowsy
waking men, frantically opening doors and
windows, sweeping down steps, or securing
door handles. The tobacco factory men are
by this time astir, ana you see them one after
another, each with his provision-pail, pro-
ceeding to his labors. Railroad people are
up, the whistle screams, faces of all kinds
multiply at every moment, windows are
thrown open, sample goods begin to adorn
the sidewalks in front of grocers' shops, the
milk -men become audible, and the ice-men's
horn sonorous, and so by noisy degrees Rich
mond wakes up and shakes herself for days
work, as if nothing had happened.