The New Orleans crescent. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1866-1869, 1869-03-28

BIZ CORNELIUS o'powD.


drowning mans existence all thelevents of his life
pass before him with o marvellous clesrness aud
dstinctnese; that long forgotten events arise TO
bis mind, and even sensations he had long ceased
to experience come back with Q starting sivlo,
ness and reality. Ihave never been drowned, and
can contribute nothing Of personal experience to |
refute or confirm this theory. l have, however,
lately been very i'll and although cannot charge my
mind with taking cowardly advantage OF my de-
bility, and raking up against me long catalogue
of old scores, must confess should have felt |
fully as grateful II II had left me alone with my
SORROW" and not taken the moment OF physical
suffering to present me with dissolving views OF
my shortcomings in life. passing pictures OF mis-
taken roads and laundering hslting places. Like
the tenor who knew he sang " false" but didn't
like to be told So have the very fullest convic-
ton of my own Encouragement and misdlrecu0n
but would deem my memory more polite II II
insisted less on bringing the matter before me
but it did worse even than this. On one especial
night of headache and high fever 1t took occasion
to regale me with snatches OF all the vile doggere
and street ballads which was once familiar with,
but which had fisttered myself TO have totally
outlived. Some OF these detestsble lyrics were
nv own, composed in freshman years, when
cultivated fun far more than the humanities, and
even, Homer like, sang my own verses from door
to door, only that my costume differed In 30 far
coat. and gathered my obole in snuffsr.dish.
II was very cruel to find these re-
miniscences coming back on me In
my years of maturity. Whether It was some sup
posed analogy with the position OF the creature
who was disposing of his effects in testamentsry
fashion, but there was an old ballad Il had never
heard II since was child) that would not leave
me. II was description of fox making bis last
will before being eaten. He has given away in
succession all he possesses-his ears, MS paws,
his brush-to this or that squire OF the nefghbor-
hood 10 whose sport he had contributed for many
q year, and at last he comes to the residue OF his
property, when he says:
"My teeth and my gums will bequeath
To the Rev. Michael Palmer
His wife has tongue that will match them well
She's devil Of scold, Cd d-n her"
Now, if sang this touching distich once, 1 must
have sung 1t some eighty-odd times, with little
shake on the last words, to render them more ef
fective and ! must have even given vent to 1t
aloud, as remember the nurse tenderly, gently
reproving me, and saying, 'Oh, don't say that,
sir I'm sure she wasn't 30 bad, after all ~
Poor Michael Palmer l wonder was 1t any
comfort to him to know that the fox's legacy be,
queathed undying fame TO Mrs. Palmer! DID
il compensate him for any of those passages,
when he covered under the storm or scudded be-
fore the bIasts Was he grateful to Reynard or
not? From these thoughts wandered on to the
fox himself. How touching the thought OF divid.
ing his very identity into testamentary portions
he had neither houses nor lands-not an earth he
could call his own he was going out OF life bare
as he came into it. halted at this reflection, and
for once thought myself very like fox.
Why should not l then make my will? My
heirs IL is true, will not be much richer than the
fox's; but the intention In each case was common
dsble. I'd have been Peabody-anybody bal
| myself. If could-snd so here goes.
/, Cornelius O'Dowd, being sick and Ill, and
with very little faith In my doctors. and none
| whatever In my apothecary-who, believe, has
| has not renewed his stock for forty years. anc
started originally with birds seedsssnd being O
so little TO dispose of, make the following as MI
| last will and testament:
| From starting in life with a considerable fund o.
Good Spirits, have been living SO long on thu
| capital, without the smallest opportunity Of re-
plenishng my stock. that have very little to be
| queath. Any shares, however. that possess o
] Hopefulness-any scrip that die possessed OF II
Jollity or Geniality-I leave to the Irish believer
| in the present government. They who imagine
that the men now in power understand lrelan'
/ and Irishmen, know In what sense concession
are received in that country, by what boons the
people are stimulated to fresh demands, and hov
little they are impressed by anything but stric
will want more than have to bequeath TO them
and greatly fear that the years that are to CONF
| will not increase their stock.
To the Americans / leave my Fol
giveness, and / do not know II
| ever admired the benevolence of my own natur
| so much as in this act. For as many years as
| have been a writer have said fippant impert
| pences OF them-on their pretensions, their boast
| fitness, their arrogance, and their accent. lhav
quizzed their vulgarity and laughed at their COZ
ceit, and yet 1 have met numberless proofs q
American goodwill and kindness. don't spea
| of their hospitslity-they can't help that; but
refer to mindful little attentions shown years aftt
| one might have imagined himself forgotten-kint
nesses shown to friends simply because they wei
our friends, and scores of small civilities which
accumulation reach the size of great benefit
| All these have on my conscience; and when ga
forgive them. ask you, can you imagine an
thing more touchiDgly beautiful than this gene
| wsv. but to pardon the man you have wronged-
| 20 forgive him you have been unjust to-is abot
| as fine trait as human nature can boast OF.
= I bequeath my Wit and Drollery-ll cannc
/ say where l have put them away-to the ne
House of Commons. II strikes me that they WI
need many like legscies to carry them throue
their new labors pleasantly-all the more that Il
honorable house has lost the airy gracefulness
| Horsemsn and the genial pleasantly of Stuart Mi
To those who believe that Mr. Lowe ar
| Mr.. Bright can long continue to eat out
| the same dish / leave my Credulity. OF
| beg them to mix il with their own, thout
il be not exactly Of the same quslit
NV sense of Deceny and Decorum-my dislil
TO details Of the divorce court and the general q
nails of prurent lving-l leave to the lady no
eists whose utter destitution In this respect NOV
pity and compassion and appeal to all tho
who have any qualities, even worn ones, OF Z
| gard for cleanliness OF life and decency Of
mesnor, nor to forget creatures 80 utterly bere
Of these gifts, and to whom even the mere rags
virtue would prove en- unspeaksble luxury.
Ibequeath an Incipient Deafness, which pron
ises well to become total. to any friends who o.
in the habit Of attending private concerts. hs
myself experienced great comfort from the bles
ing which has sustained me through much
wsgner's music and several missionary co
| ferences.
leave my Patience have not much OF
left-to all who listen to such sermons a. 2
weekly exposed 10, and entreat them to rememb
that Dot the least Of The miracles Of our Church
It's power to survive Its paid defenders.
Ileave my Buoyancy TO our iron-plsted squa
| ron, who need IL sadly.
To any gentleman about to leave England wi
little intention TO return to 1t leave my Faith
Public Men"-it will not cucumber bis bsggae
or subject him to examination by custom hon
officers.