The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1857-09-24


of the latter Power at the close of the great war
But even that must yield in turn to the grander
| fact of an army Of 80 900 well trained soldiers
well found and well officered, dispatched in the
course of three months from Eogland, right
across the globe, to reassert our authority on
the shores of the Ganges and the central plains
of Hindostan.'
THE AMBITIOUS THEsPIAN.-An English act
or, of more ambition than talent, came to
America some time since, and was emulous of
excelling in the part of Richard III. He had
evidently mistaken his forte for, with features
formed to express every comic emotion, and
fund of humor "to set the table in roar" be
was obstinately bent on being tragedsn.
Having completed all engagement ct Natchez
he availed himself of the privilege of benefit,
and selected Richard for the occasion. He was
man of some research, and remembered the
attention paid by George Frederick Cooke to
the minute matters of the piece, more especial
| ly the introduction of banner with the boar"
cognizance of the house of York, which in all
the latter scenes was carried by an attendant,
and elevated Immediately behind him on his
taking his position on the stage. For some
days preceding the important night, the hero
| of our story had carefully examined the scene
| ry, properties &c, of the establishment, with.
out discovering the boar in question. He was
told by the manager that other actors had dis
pensed with the desired banner but it was at
length decreed that il should be painted. The
artist of the establishment was a young Ken
tuckan of promising talent, and his good off,
ces were appealed to for formidable represent
| alton of the monster. On the night preceding
the benefit, the leading man" was the life of
party, comprising many of his brother actors
and their patrons, who bad retired after the
performance to a neighboring tavern. The
song and jest went round, and the painter, who
was of the company, was profuse in anecdote
| and marvellous stories, all bearing upon the
superiority of Kentucky which, by his descrip-
ton, seemed to be the veritable land flowing
with milk and honey. "Ahl' said the comic
tragedian, that's the country where qusrtern
loaves grow on the trees, and the pigs run about
ready roasted, with knife and fork stuck in
them, crying, Come and eat me-" Now, an
Gent as this joke may be, it was received with
loud applause and satisfaction by all but the
scenic artist. The ensuing morning came, and
Richard was all "himself;" the supernumera-
ries were rehearsed, the banners and properties
displayed, but the important one was missing.
He rushed to the artists room, and was told
tina: at night he might depend upon its being
ready.
The morning was then devoted to drilling an
attendant as to the manner and precise time of
| hosting the banner over the ideal monarch at
night. The painter had, in fact, almost forgot
ten both boar and banner, until his attention
was drawn to it by a recollection of the laugh
at his expense on the preceding evening, and
| in moment plan of revenge was concocted.
In the evening the house was crowded, and all
went smoothly until the commencement of the
fifth act. Richard was in high state of ex
citenent, having all but achieved the accom-
| plishment of his wishes. Having to change
portion of mis- dress, he arrived at the wing in
time only to hear the flourish that announced
his approach, and to observe that his soldiers
had formed in row, with the banners edge
ways to the audience, ready to display them on
his appearance. "Is the boar all rght?" said
he, hurriedly, to the prompter. Beautiful,
sir" replied that functonary. "Here pitch we
our tent, even in Bosworth field" began our
hero. Whirl went the banner borne by the
well-drilled attendant and in one moment, as if
by magic, every countenance in the front re-
Taxed into broad grin; and roars of laughter,
which swelled into universal shout, palsied
the efforts of the aspiring actor. He looked
| hercely on his companions, one of whom he felt
satisfied had been guilty of some incongruity,
and advanced more to the front to free himself
from their proximity. Faithful to his morn.
ing's Instructors, the banner man followed in
his wake, and again the yell was renewed.
Approaching the foot lights, Richard prepared
himself to address the audience. Ladies and
gentlemen" he began, but liz vain the merry
storm was up, and shouts of laughter rendered
his appeal inaudble. Disguised and annoyed,
he at length turned his back contemptuously
on his benefsctors, and facing his gallant fol-
lowers, fixed his eyes with establishment and
horror on the fatal cause of the uproar. Firm
at his post, mistaken by the din, stood the
welnstructed banner bearer, whilst raised on
high was the ccgnizance of York-slightly al
tered, 1t Is true, from the original design, be-
ing In rampant position, with the addition of
long curly tail, a large knife and fork thrust
IN the back, and from its mouth, by way of
motto, protruded the words, Come, eat me !! "
flushing on the attendants, he demolished with
his ready sword the memento of the painters
vengeance, and the curtain fell amidst min
gled call for Richard and the "Boar of York"
HE GULF STREAM IN THE ATLANTIC-The
general desert ption of the Gulf Stream, apart
from any present question as to its sources, is
that OF vast and rapid ocean current issuing
from the basin of the Mexican Gulf and Carib.
bean sea, doubling the southern cape of Florida
pressing forward to the northeast, in line al.
most parallel to the American coast; touching
on the southern borders of the Grand Banks of
Newfoundland, and at some seasons partially
passing over them; thence, with increasing
width and diffusion, traversing the whole
breadth Of the Atlantic, with a central direction
towards the British Isles; and finally losing
itself by still wider diffusion in the Bay of Bis
cay, on our own shores, and upon the long line
OF the Norwegian coasts. Its identity in phys
ical character Is preserved throughout the many
thousand miles of its continuous fow-the
only change undergone is that of degree. As
its waters gradually commingle with those of
the surrounding sea, their deep-blue tint de-
clines, their high temperature diminishes, the
speed with which they press forward abates
But, taking the stream in its totel course, it
we'll warrants the vivid description and the
name bestowed upon it by modern author, of
river in the ocean" This epithet is, in
truth, singularly appropriate to this vast cur.
rent; 30 constant and continuous in its course,
and so strangely detached from the great mass
of ocean waters, which, while seemingly cleft
asunder to give path to is first impulse, are
ever yet pressing upon it, gradually impairing
Its force and destroying its individuality. The |
marimum of velocity, where the stream Quits
the narrow channel of Bemni, which compress.
es its egress from the Gulf, is about four miles
an hour. OFF Cape Hatteras, in North Caro-
lima, where 1t has gained breadth of seventy.
i've miles, the velocity is reduced to three miles.
On the parallel Of the Newfoundland banks, |
it is further reduced to a mile and half An
hour, AID this gradual abatement of force ia
continued across the Atlantic. The tempera. |
ture OF the current undergoes similar change. |
The highest observed is about ninety five de- |
grees Fahrenheit Between Cape Hatteras and |
Newfoundland, though lessened in amount the |
warmth OF the stream IN winter is still twenty.
i've or thirty degrees above that of the ocean
through which it fiows. Nor is this heat wholly
Lost Uh