Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1857-01-13

hLoWS WueTe, any WHeTe, any where,
away from self if it be possible. Where
should they go2 Where can they 90
To the cellar, where rum is, if they can
steal or beg ii on pawn of their immortal
souls-where vice revels in its most be-
sotted and hideous form, where murder
is a thing to laugh at, and theft an in
heritance-where Christmas day is what
The twenty-fifth day of December
this known to some and not to all.
The homes Of the dreamers; they who
look on life through lorgaettes from their
opera boxes, and the plate glass of their
carriage windows. A thousand lustres
throwing their Sues of light here and
there far over the snowy ground, give
token of seasonable revel In a hundred
palace homes; such revel in its costly
wastefulness as would feed every outcast
IN that thronging city, aye for month to
come.
1t ls wild night, so wild that few are
out at It's mercy but such as necessity or
Christmas wants compel. The wind, and
the snow, and the bells, are so mixed up
in their jingling, and bullying, and moist
business, that they have it all the world
to nothing over the bricks and mortar, and
huddling flesh and blood below.
Mr.. Jefferson Timberwilk is a chemist
and druggist, as you may see for yourself
by looking al the cream-colored announce
ment on a chocolate ground over the shop
front. Mr.. t. is a young man, say three
and-twenty, and a bachelor. He has Just
set up in business, or, as he elegantly de-
scribes it., is just broke to harness." He
has fair pill and mixture neighborhood,
with healthy propensity for leeches and
/ plasters. His store is on the corner, very
snug, and about the dimensions of a large
sized packlng-case, In a locality embrac-
ing fine view of the river, through
narrow vista of doubtful neighborhood and
a pleasant prospect of the police office,
well-spring of Intellectual enjoyment to
iAiitl thil'i SOiilC icNtluc A6iS Is always
an agreeable little fight either going on
I orgetting up within half minutes run of
! Mr.. Timberwilk's establishment, and even
the ladies partake Of this delightful feat
ure of the social system Of the district
They are always going in and con-
stantly coming out, undeniably the worse
for wear.
Mr.. TimberwilS has den Of limited
dimensions behind the store, where he
does his sleeping and surgery, and in this
he is sitting now, drawing comfort through
a very dilapidatted meerschaum, with his
legs elegantly elevated to the adjacent
stove pipe. Opposite is his assistant
Master Jake Cheep, whose duties are to
attend to the store in Mr.. rs absence and
participate in desperate acts of phleboto-
my on belligerent and damaged natives
This youth is alternating his evenings
amusement between the cultivation Of a
monster wart and the study of the life of
one Murrell, u facetious creature, who
enjoyed life somewhere on the lower
Mississippi, by cutting the throat of soci-
ETY. generally. When Jake speaks he
does it with a curl of the upper lip and a
roll Of the head. His hat hangs over one
eye, his pantaloons are always rolled up,
and he intends to be fremen.
Mr.. Timberwilk is chewing the cud of
delicious reverie. He sighs and blows
out such cloud of smoke as gives Mas
ter Cheep the appearance Of grim and
foggy goblin.
. My hearts in the Highland, my heart
is not here
, Timberwllk repeats the sigh, and the
goblin, still in the fog looks up from his
wart
q seen her tonight" said the goblin,
winlling,
Jefferson was djgnifed but listened.
Can't she dance, though2 I'm going
to her den, am
Mr. Timberwilk called him a juvenile
savage, and requested to know who her
was
$ Round the corner, eh q said Master
, Cheep, laying the wart aGectionately or
, the bridge of his nose" Buuernut street
r | amt drowsy."
1t was quite refreshing to hear the
: young gentleman talk in this strain, like
any bosom and confidential friend, ana
not a goblin under thirteen, with fierce
: passion for developing warts and not higl
enough to look over the counter.
Jefferson tried to frown the goblin
/. down, but not succeeding he blushed.-
$ His heart was not in the Highlands bu
: in Butternut street.
This was a quiet little place with mar
i row entrance opening into small square