Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1856-04-18
The Parson,s Wig.

British. It was consequently often visited by his
Britanie Majestys vessels of war.
| lew doors from Walton House, which op.
posite where Harpers mammoth store is, there lived
in those days solemn Connecticut Of the name
of EbeneZer Tyron, who followed the profession of
barber Never had New York rejoiced in such har-
lequin pole he displayed in Pearl street. He has
been known to disguise himself, and standing oppo-
site to the pole, call the admiring attention of the
passers by 10 the briliancy of its colors, and the
dignity OF its defying prorusion Touching the war,
he had his own private opinion, which had never
leaked out. When he was shaving notorious Tory
he would indulge in various dark hints as 10 what
be could do if he had the razor near Gen. Washing
toms throat and when he found that his customer
was of the other party he would get out OF the
scrape by averlng that she could shave Gen. Wash
ton for half price,"
One morning in April, 1881, the arrival of the
Culloden, I'd, Capt Perry, made New York gay
Jack Tars shore bender, and lots of
money was spent and plenty of grog swallowed.
Our friend Barber Tyron had also plenty of work,
and wore out dozen razors day on the wry beard
of the sea dogs that crowded his shop. There
no fashionable Phaon, Chrstadoro Gardner, then;
all WIS patriarchal simplicity and sxpence
Among the chief patrons of our friend Tyron, the
barber, was the parson Of the parish, tie Rev. DR..
Corey, who, preached at the brick church in Cliff
street
Every Saturday be sent his full flown wig, which
looked much like cullf1ower, 10 have extra pomat.
um, extra curls and extra Perfume with an ad,
dtonal twist to the tail lavished upon the redoubta
BILE Parsons wig. Proud was the barber of the Par
sons wig when he had given the last finishing touch
es to it. Never author more doated five act
comedy fit for the prompter, than old barber Tyron
as he placed, with all lovers delicate gallantry, thus
reJuvenated wig upon lis own special, sacred block.
He would walk round it just forest does around
Margaret in Sir Giles Overreach, in a dream of ad
miration.
Our curtain draws up one fine Sunday morning in
the barber's shop, with the Parsons wig its ac-
customed block, all ready for his coming for
IT. Barber Iyron was shaving the boatswan of the
ColIoden, and three young middes of the same ves-
sci were waiting their turn not to be shaved, for
they had not hair 100 many, but to have their locks
pomatumed and plastered, for they were going to
look at the pretty Yankee girls in church.
Just the barber had finished the boatswan's
attention was called by the Parsons niger, who
oiced in the name of Jehosophat, but who was pro-
tanely called Joshy, by the barber
"Well, Joshy, how's his reverence to day! There's
his wig now be off, have to shave the whole
crew of the Culloden"
81 don't see no wig said Joshy. Here's the
shilling but | want the wig"
son the block z" cries. the barber, as he took the
apron off the boatswain.
! ''Dare's nothing the block said the darkey.
! "Ah," exclaimed the barber, " let me see. Josh,
your eyes are always in your stomach, as the poet
| says"
"Halo !" whistled the barber "who's got the wig?
I'll swear put it there last night; now think on
it, saw it there when took down the shutters =
What can have become OF the wg!''
The middes knew nothing about it but there was
no wig How Parson Corey was to rreach without
| his wig, mystery II was shrewdy suspect
ed that his sermon somewh ere concealed in that
owl-1ke covering.
| Every nook and Granny was seal ched-no wig to
| be found. The middes, to take away all suspicion
from them, offered to be searched too. and as they
insisted upon it, their humor was induged. Still,
no wlg-not even the hair of one
| Great the wrath of Darkey Jehosophat; he
loudly swore the parson would hang the barber, and
was only pacifed by the barber giving him a shilling
and one of the middies giving him violent kick in
the seat OF his pantaoons. which Irec plated him
into the street, where he picked himself up and ran
home to report the loss to the parson.
The barber shattered up the mddies in a stat of
silence his mind thoroughly disturbed as to
what could have become of the parsons wig. Sus
picions loudly refeclng upon the honesty of the en-
emy of mankind settled on his mind, and he oscia-
ted like pendulum between the parsOn and the dev.
H. He hardly knew how to choose between them.
He had closed his shop; he had sat down to rumi-
nate when his wife announced dinner. 1t was a
meat pie thing Barber Tyron was devotedIy at
tached to. He entered his dining room there smok-
ed the pie, red hot from the baker's-there sat his
! little ones around smacking their prophetic lips, and
at the head like harber's Juno, sat the barber's
wife, Mrs Tyron. The lord and master of the bar
bcr's pole took his seat-sad grace in solemn fash
ion, tor, We have said, he solemn Connect-
cut man, and then with look divided between hes-
and the pie crust he dug his knife into the sa-
worry dish before them, and with the rapidity Of a
Valentine Mott, he took off a space of the crust.
Heavens and earth-he dropped the knife A
stencil equal to Sodom and Gomorrah rushed from
the pie the wife fanted-the children crammed the
table-cloh in their mouths-the barber, in fit of
desperation dug his fork into the offensive mass and
fshed up the parsons wig
i Yes the murder was out! One of the young mid
dies seeing the pie waiting to be sen, to the baker,
had quietly raised the crust and had popped as qu-
city in the Parsons well. ll.pomatumed wig.
AS Barber Tryon held the morsal up in rushed the
baker, swearing like demented Dutchman at the ac-
cursed pie which Tyron had sent to be baked in his
oven, and which had spoilt the of his oven
The result was that he had legs of mutton without
end, pumpkin pies &C., all returned his hands, be-
ing utterly ruined by being in the company of the
Parsons wig Our friend Remus will YOU ch for the
truth of the story.
"Punch,' the inmitable has the following rich
burlesque upon Rogers Table Talk" Punch calls
his: