Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1852-1859, 1857-02-16
ssrrcnEs OF BosroS ConREsPoNpEscE OF rnE

SsgTcHEs OF BosToS CORRESPONDENTS OF THE
Ks1csERRocKRR 5fAGAzINE-A correspondent
of the Rnicker6oefer Magazine has latelyvisited
Boston, and he has CHANGED upon several little
incidents which impress him with profound
sense of the solemnity of Boston people The
fremont House is a good institution, but the
waters are gloomy; the chambermaids attend
prayers in the morning there are Biblesin the
rooms; the uan in the office never smiles and,
altogether, the place is precise and quite pecu-
liar. We will let him speak for himself how
ever:
! 81 have attempted but two jokes in this sol
emn place, and they fell like the.aakes of snow,
SILENT unnoticed. An unfortunate individual
in the reading-room last evening was seized with
an unusually violent fit of coughing, which, If
a man could by any possibility, be ttlrnedinside
out, would have done ii; andas R partial cessa-
ton of it occurred, with his hair standing on
end Che had coughed his l,at off, his face glow
ing with exertion, and the tears standing in his
unhappy eyes, he very naturally gave vent to q
| profane cxecration Every body looked shock
| cd remarked in an audible tone to my COM
panion, that the exclamation was coffcr-dam;
an admirable contrivancc for raising obstruc-
tons from the bottom of streams, and probably
adopted by the gentleman to clear his throat
| but no one laughed, and incontinently went to
bed.
This morning, on rising, discovered that
my boots, left outside the door to be embellish-
cd with backing, had, like those of BoInbasteS,
not been misplaced; so | said TO the porter, a
man of grave and solemn aspect: y OIL have a
very honest set of people about this house
| 'Why?' said the porter, with somewhat start
III led expression. Because reioined, q left my
| boots outside my door last night, and find this
morning no one has touched Them That man
walked off all slow and stately and never knew
| that had been numerous Disappointment
\ have been my lot in life. took n short ride
| yesterday in the Metropolitan Railroad cars,
/ which arc dragged by horse power from the
fremont House to RoSbury. The only other
occupant of my car was young and lovely
/ female in deep mourning. She wore heavy
black veil, and her thick and beautiful auburn
| hair was gathered5up on each side of her face
beneath spotcss cap, widows cap of snowy
muslin.
had always feeling for widows; young and
pretty widows particularly, always excite my
deepest interest and sympathy. [ gazed with
moiStened eye on the sweet specimen before me,
so young, so beautiful, / thought, and alas!
what suffering she has experienced. pictured
to myself her devotion to her husband during
his late illness, the untiring .watchfulness with
which she hung over his pillow the unwcaring
and selEsacrificing spirit with which she hoped
on, hoped ever till in despite her care her love,
he sank forever, and her agonizcd Shrek rang
in my ear, as with hands claspcd and uptnrned
eye, she felt that he was dead, her dream of life
was over, her strength was gone, her heart was
broken.
The young widow had been regarding me
earnestly during this time, and probably imag-
ined what was passing in my mind, for throw
| ing her veil over her hat, she turned partly
around towards me, and looked steadfastly in
my facc-shc winked her eye! Yes, Sir, she
winked her eye at me-the moral Phoenix; and
| rose from my ashes aud left the Metropolitan
car aud returned 10 the fremont House. And
| is it possible, thought ], as gazed from my
window upon fremont street and observed
sanctimonious gentleman in long black over.
coat, look hastily up and down the street, and
then dodge up a small alley in great haste, is it
possible that this little widow in the car is at all
typical of the great city to which she belongsH
\ most respectable, staid, and solemn outward
ppcarance-coycring a very strong disposition
to that delivery which is defined by the Bibleas
''thc lust Of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and
the pride of life." But Boston, clothed in its
robe of snow, looked too pure, too bird-like, and
1 dismissed the superstition from my mind.