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Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Steve Schulze | |
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Vol. 1. No. 21. | |
PUNCHINELLO | |
SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1870. | |
PUBLISHED BY THE | |
PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING COMPANY, | |
83 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. | |
THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD, By ORPHEUS C. KERR, | |
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The | |
MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. | |
AN ADAPTATION. | |
BY ORPHEUS C. KERR. | |
CHAPTER XIV. | |
CLOVES FOR THREE. | |
Christmas Eve in Bumsteadville. Christmas Eve all over the world, but | |
especially where the English language is spoken. No sooner does the | |
first facetious star wink upon this Eve, than all the English-speaking | |
millions of this Boston-crowned earth begin casting off their hatreds, | |
meannesses, uncharities, and Carlyleisms, as a garment, and, in a | |
beautiful spirit of no objections to anybody, proceed to think what can | |
be done for the poor in the way of sincerely wishing them well. The | |
princely merchant, in his counting-room, involuntarily experiences the | |
softening, humanizing influence of the hour, and, in tones tremulous | |
with unwonted emotion, privately directs his Chief-Clerk to tell all the | |
other clerks, that, on this night of all the round year, they may, | |
before leaving the store at 10 o'clock, take almost any article from | |
that slightly damaged auction-stock down in the front cellar, at actual | |
cost-price. This, they are to understand, implies their Employer's | |
hearty wish of a Merry Christmas to them; and is a sign that, in the | |
grand spirit of the festal season, he can even forget and forgive those | |
unnatural leaner entry-clerks who are always whining for more than their | |
allotted $7 a week. The President of the great railroad corporation, in | |
the very middle of a growling fit over the extra cost involved in | |
purchasing his last Legislature, (owing to the fact that some of its | |
Members had been elected upon a fusion of Radical-Reform and | |
Honest-Workingman's Tickets,) is suddenly and mysteriously impressed | |
with the recollection that this is Christmas Eve. "Why, bless my soul, | |
so it is!" he cries, springing up from his littered rosewood desk like a | |
boy. "Here, you General Superintendent out there in the office!" sings | |
he, cheerily, "send some one down to Washington Market this instant, to | |
find out whether or not any of those luscious anatomical western turkies | |
that I saw in the barrels this morning are left yet. If the commercial | |
hotels down-town haven't taken them all, buy every remaining barrel at | |
once! Not a man nor boy in this Company's service shall go home to-night | |
without his Christmas dinner in his hand! Lively, now, Mr. JONES! and | |
just oblige me by picking out one of the birds for yourself, if you can | |
find one at all less blue than the rest. It's Christmas Eve, sir; and | |
upon my word I'm really sorry our boys have to work to-morrow as usual. | |
Ah! it's hard to be poor, JONES! A merry Christmas to us all. Here's my | |
carriage come for me." And even in returning to their homes from their | |
daily avocations, on Christmas Eve, how the most grasping, penurious | |
souls of men will soften to the world's unfortunate! Who is this poor | |
old lady, looking as though she might be somebody's grandmother, sitting | |
here by the wayside, shivering, on such an Eve as this? No home to | |
go?--Relations all dead?--Eaten nothing in two days?--Walked all the way | |
from the Woman's Rights Bureau in Boston?--Dear me! _can_ there be so | |
much suffering on Christmas Eve? I must do something for her, or my own | |
good dinner to-morrow will be a reproach to me. "Here! Policeman! just | |
take this poor old lady to the Station-House, and give her a good warm | |
home there until morning. There! cheer-up, Aunty; you're all right | |
_now._ This gentleman in the uniform has promised to take care of you. | |
Merry Christmas!"--Or, when at home, and that extremely bony lad, in the | |
thin summer coat, chatters to you, from the snow on the front-stoop, | |
about the courage he has taken from Christmas Eve to ask you for enough | |
to get a meal and a night's-lodging--how differently from your ordinary | |
style does a something soft in your breast impel you to treat him. "No | |
work to be obtained?" you say, in a light tone, to cheer him up. "Of | |
course there's none _here,_ my young friend. All the work here at the | |
East is for foreigners, in order that they may be used at election-time. | |
As for you, an American boy, why don't you go to h-- I mean to the West. | |
_Go West_, young man! Buy a good, stout farming outfit, two or three | |
serviceable horses, or mules, a portable house made in sections, a few | |
cattle, a case of fever medicine--and then go out to the far West upon | |
Government-land. You'd better go to one of the hotels for to-night, and | |
then purchase Mr. GREELEY'S 'What I Know About Farming,' and start as | |
soon as the snow permits in the morning. Here are ten cents for you. | |
Merry Christmas!"--Thus to honor the natal Festival of Him--the | |
Unselfish incarnate, the Divinely insighted--Who said unto the | |
lip-server: Sell all that thou hast, and give it to the Poor, and follow | |
Me; and from Whom the lip-server, having great possessions, went away | |
exceeding sorrowful! | |
Three men are to meet at dinner in the Bumsteadian apartments on this | |
Christmas Eve. How has each one passed the day? | |
MONTGOMERY PENDRAGON, in his room in Gospeler's Gulch, reads Southern | |
tragedies in an old copy of the _New Orleans Picayune,_ until two | |
o'clock, when he hastily tears up all his soiled paper collars, packs a | |
few things into a travelling satchel, and, with the latter slung over | |
his shoulder, and a Kehoe's Indian club in his right hand, is met in the | |
hall by his tutor, the Gospeler. | |
"What are you doing with that club, Mr. MONTGOMERY?" asks the Reverend | |
OCTAVIUS, hastily stepping back into a corner. | |
"I've bought it to exercise with in the open air," answers the young | |
Southerner, playfully denting the wall just over his tutor's head with | |
it "After this dinner with Mr. DROOD, at BUMSTEAD'S, I reckon I shall | |
start on a walking match, and I've procured the club for exercise as I | |
go. Thus:" He twirls it high in the air, grazes Mr. SIMPSON'S nearer | |
ear, hits his own head accidentally, and breaks the glass in the | |
hat-stand. | |
"I see! I see!" says the Gospeler, rather hurriedly. "Perhaps you _had_ | |
better be entirely alone, and in the open country, when you take that | |
exercise." | |
Rubbing his skull quite dismally, the prospective pedestrian goes | |
straightway to the porch of the Alms-House, and there waits until his | |
sister comes down in her bonnet and joins him. | |
"MAGNOLIA," he remarks, hastening to be the first to speak, in order to | |
have any conversational chance at all with her, "it is not the least | |
mysterious part of this Mystery of ours, that keeps us all out of doors | |
so much in the unseasonable winter month of December,[1] and now I am | |
peculiarly a meteorological martyr in feeling obliged to go walking for | |
two whole freezing weeks, or until the Holidays and this--this | |
marriage-business, are over. I didn't tell Mr. SIMPSON, but my real | |
purpose, I reckon, in having this club, is to save myself, by violent | |
exercise with it, from perishing of cold." | |
"Must you do this, MONTGOMERY?" asks his colloquial sister, | |
thoughtfully. "Perhaps if I were to talk long enough with you--" | |
"--You'd literally exhaust me into not going? Certainly you would," he | |
returns, confidently. "First, my head would ache from the constant | |
noise; then it would spin; then I should grow faint and hear you less | |
distinctly; then your voice, although you were talking-on the same as | |
ever, would sound like a mere steady hum to me; then I should become | |
unconscious, and be carried home, with you still whispering in my ear. | |
But do _not_ talk, MAGNOLIA; for I must do the walking-match. The | |
prejudice here against my Southern birth makes me a damper upon the | |
festivities of others at this general season of forgiveness to all | |
mankind, and I can't stand the sight of that DROOD and Miss POTTS | |
together. I'd better stay away until they have gone." | |
He pauses a moment, and adds: "I wish I were not going to this dinner, | |
or that I were not carrying this club there." | |
He shakes her hand and his own head, glances up at the storm-clouds now | |
gathering in the sky, goes onward to Mr. BUMSTEAD'S boarding-house, | |
halts at the door a moment to moisten his right hand and balance the | |
Indian club in it, and then enters. | |
EDWIN DROOD'S day before merry Christmas is equally hilarious. Now that | |
the Flowerpot is no longer on his mind, the proneness of the masculine | |
nature to court misfortune causes him to think seriously of Miss | |
PENDRAGON, and wonder whether _she_ would make a wife to ruin a man? It | |
will be rather awkward, he thinks, to be in Bumsteadville for a week or | |
two after the Macassar young ladies shall have heard of his matrimonial | |
disengagement, as they will all be sure to sit symmetrically at every | |
front window in the Alms-House whenever he tries to go by; and he | |
resolves to escape the danger by starting for Egypt, Illinois, | |
immediately after he has seen Mr. DIBBLE and explained the situation to | |
him. Finding that his watch has run down, he steps into a jeweler's to | |
have it wound, and is at once subjected to insinuating overtures by the | |
man of genius. What does he think of this ring, which is exactly the | |
thing for some particular Occasions in Life? It is made of the metal for | |
which nearly all young couples marry now-a-days, is as endless as their | |
disagreements, and, by the new process, can be stretched to fit the | |
Second wife's hand, also. Or look at this pearl set. Very chaste, really | |
soothing; intended as a present from a Husband after First Quarrel. | |
These cameo ear-rings were never known to fail. Judiciously presented, | |
in a velvet case, they may be depended upon to at once divert a young | |
Wife from Returning to her Mother, as she has threatened. Ah! Mr. DROOD | |
cares for no more jewelry than his watch, chain and seal-ring? To be | |
sure! when Mr. BUMSTEAD was in yesterday for the regular daily new | |
crystal in his own watch--how _does_ he break so many!--_he_ said that | |
his beloved nephews wore only watches and rings, or he would buy paste | |
breastpins for them. Your oroide is now wound up, Mr. DROOD, and set at | |
twenty minutes past Two. | |
"Dear old JACK!" thinks EDWIN to himself, pocketing his watch as he | |
walks away; "he thinks just twice as much of me as any one else in the | |
world, and I should feel doubly grateful." | |
As dusk draws on, the young fellow, returning from a long walk, espies | |
an aged Irish lady leaning against a tree on the edge of the turnpike, | |
with a pipe upside-down in her mouth, and her bonnet on | |
wrong-side-afore. | |
"Are you sick?" he asks kindly. | |
"Divil a sick, gintlemen," is the answer, with a slight catch of the | |
voice,--"bless the two of yez!" | |
EDWIN DROOD can scarcely avoid a start, as he thinks to himself, "Good | |
Heaven! how much like JACK!" | |
"Do you eat cloves, madame?" he asks, respectfully. | |
"Cloves is it, honey? ah, thin, I do that, whin I'm expectin' company. | |
Odether-nodether, but I've come here the day from New York for nothing. | |
Sure phat's the names of you two darlints?" | |
"EDWIN," he answers, in some wonder, as he hands her a currency stamp, | |
which, on account of the large hole worn in it, he has been repeatedly | |
unable to pass himself. | |
"EDDY is it? Och hone, och hone, machree!" exclaims the venerable woman, | |
hanging desolately around the tree by her arms while her bonnet falls | |
over her left ear: "I've heard that name threatened. Och, acushla | |
wirasthu!" | |
Believing that the matron will be less agitated if left alone, and, | |
probably, able to get a little roadside sleep, EDWIN DROOD passes onward | |
in deep thought. The boarding-house is reached, and _he_ enters. | |
J. BUMSTEAD'S day of the dinner is also marked by exhilarating | |
experiences. With one coat-tail unwittingly tucked far up his back, so | |
that it seems to be amputated, and his alpaca umbrella under his arm, he | |
enters a grocery-store of the village, and abstractedly asks how | |
strawberries are selling to-day? Upon being reminded that fresh fruit is | |
very scarce in late December, he changes his purpose, and orders two | |
bottles of Bourbon flavoring-extract sent to his address. And now he | |
wishes to know what they are charging for sponges? They tell him that he | |
must seek those articles at the druggist's, and he compromises by | |
requesting that four lemons be forwarded to his residence. Have they any | |
good Canton-flannel, suitable for a person of medium complexion?-- | |
No?--Very well, then: send half a pound of cloves to his house before | |
night. | |
There are Ritualistic services at Saint Cow's, and he renders the | |
organ-accompaniments with such unusual freedom from reminiscences of the | |
bacchanalian repertory, that the Gospeler is impelled to compliment him | |
as they leave the cathedral. | |
"You're in fine tone to-day, BUMSTEAD. Not quite so much volume to your | |
playing as sometimes, but still the tune could be recognized." | |
"That, sir," answers the organist, explainingly, "was because I held my | |
right wrist firmly with my left hand, and played mostly with only one | |
finger. The method, I find, secures steadiness of touch and precision in | |
hitting the right key." | |
"I should think it would, Mr. BUMSTEAD. You seem to be more free than | |
ordinarily from your occasional indisposition." | |
"I am less nervous, Mr. SIMPSON," is the reply. "I've made up my mind to | |
swear off, sir.--I'll tell you what I'll do, SIMPSON," continues the | |
Ritualistic organist, with sudden confidential affability. "I'll make an | |
agreement with you, that whichever of us catches the other slipping-up | |
first in the New Year, shall be entitled to call for whatever he wants." | |
"Bless me! I don't understand," ejaculates the Gospeler. | |
"No matter, sir. No matter!" retorts the mystic of the organ-loft, | |
abruptly returning to his original gloom. "My company awaits me, and I | |
must go." | |
"Excuse me," cries the Gospeler, turning back a moment; "but what's the | |
matter with your coat?" | |
The other discovers the condition of his tucked-up coat-tail with some | |
fierceness of aspect, but immediately explains that it must have been | |
caused by his sitting upon a folding-chair just before leaving home. | |
So, humming a savage tune in make-belief of no embarrassment at all in | |
regard to his recently disordered garment, Mr. BUMSTEAD reaches his | |
boarding-house. At the door he waits long enough to examine his | |
umbrella, with scowling scrutiny, in every rib; and then _he_ enters. | |
Behind the red window-curtain of the room of the dinner-party shines the | |
light all night, while before it a wailing December gale rises higher | |
and higher. Through leafless branches, under eaves and against chimneys, | |
the savage wings of the storm are beaten, its long fingers caught, and | |
its giant shoulder heaved. Still, while nothing else seems steady, that | |
light behind the red curtain burns unextinguished; the reason being that | |
the window is closed and the wind cannot get at it. | |
At morning comes a hush on nature; the sun arises with that innocent | |
expression of countenance which causes some persons to fancy that it | |
resembles Mr. GREELEY after shaving; and there is an evident desire on | |
the part of the wind to pretend that it has not been up all night. | |
Fallen chimnies, however, expose the airy fraud, and the clock blown | |
completely out of Saint Cow's steeple reveals what a high time there has | |
been. | |
Christmas morning though it is, Mr. MCLAUGHLIN is summoned from his | |
family-circle of pigs, to mount the Ritualistic church and see what can | |
be done; and while a small throng of early idlers are staring up at him | |
from Gospeler's Gulch, Mr. BUMSTEAD, with his coat on in the wrong way, | |
and a wet towel on his head, comes tearing in amongst them like a | |
congreve rocket. | |
"Where's them nephews?--where's MONTGOMERIES?--where's that umbrella?" | |
howls Mr. BUMSTEAD, catching the first man he sees by the throat, and | |
driving his hat over his eyes. | |
"What's the matter, for goodness sake?" calls the Gospeler from the | |
window of his house. "Mr. PENDRAGON has gone away on a walking-match. Is | |
not Mr. DROOD at home with you?" | |
"Norrabit'v it," pants the organist, releasing his man's throat, but | |
still leaning with heavy affection upon him: "m'nephews wen 'out with 'm | |
--f'r li'lle walk--er mir'night; an' 've norseen'm--since." | |
There is no more looking up at Saint Cow's steeple with a MCLAUGHLIN on | |
it now. All eyes fix upon the agitated Mr. BUMSTEAD, as he wildly | |
attempts to step over the tall paling of the Gospeler's fence at a | |
stride, and goes crashing headlong through it instead. | |
(_To be Continued_.) | |
[Footnote 1: In the original English story there is, considering the | |
bitter time of year given, a truly extraordinary amount of solitary | |
sauntering, social strolling, confidential confabulating, | |
evening-rambling, and general lingering, in the open air. To "adapt" | |
this novel peculiarity to American practice, without some little | |
violation of probability, is what the present conscientious Adapter | |
finds almost the artistic requirement of his task.] | |
* * * * * | |
ALL HAIL! | |
The most fearful weapon yet brought into the field of war--if we are to | |
believe newspaper correspondents--is the revolving grape-shot gun known | |
as the "hail-thrower," a piece of ordnance said to be in use by the | |
French and Prussian armies, alike. If half we hear about the | |
"hail-thrower" be true, 'twere better for all concerned to keep out of | |
hail of it. Many a hale fellow well met by that fearful hail storm must | |
go to grass ere the red glare of the war has passed away. "Where do you | |
hail from?" would be a bootless question to put when the "hail-thrower" | |
begins to administer throes to the breaking ranks. Worse than that; it | |
would probably be a headless question. | |
* * * * * | |
"THE PERFECT CURE." | |
A newspaper paragraph states that, in Minnesota, they have a very | |
summary way of restoring the consciousness of pigs that have been | |
smitten by the summery rays of the sun. They simply open piggy's head | |
with a pick-axe or other handy instrument, introduce a handful or two of | |
salt, close up the head again, and piggy is all right. But this, after | |
all, is simply a new application of the old practice of Curing pork with | |
salt. | |
* * * * * | |
Con by a Son of a Gun. | |
Why are the new breech-loaders supplied with needles? | |
To keep their breeches in repair, of course. | |
* * * * * | |
Con by a Carpet-Shaker. | |
Why is a large carpet like the late rebellion? | |
Because it took such a lot of tax to put it down. | |
* * * * * | |
ADVICE TO PICNIC PARTIES. | |
At this culminating period of the summer season, it is natural that the | |
civic mind should turn itself to the contemplation of sweet rural | |
things, including shady groves, lunch-baskets, wild flowers, sandwiches, | |
bird songs, and bottled lager-bier. | |
The skies are at their bluest, now; the woods and fields are at their | |
greenest; flowers are blooming their yellowest, and purplest, and | |
scarletest. All Nature is smiling, in fact, with one large, | |
comprehensive smile, exactly like a first-class PRANG chromo with a | |
fresh coat of varnish upon it. | |
Things being thus, what can be more charming than a rural excursion to | |
some tangled thicket, the very brambles, and poison-ivy, and possible | |
copperhead snakes of which are points of unspeakable value to a picnic | |
party, because they are sensational, and one cannot have them in the | |
city without rushing into fabulous extra expense. It is good, then, that | |
neighbors should club together for the festive purposes of the picnic, | |
and a few words of advice regarding the arrangement of such parties may | |
be seasonable. | |
If your excursion includes a steamboat trip, always select a boat that | |
is likely to be crowded to its utmost capacity, more especially one of | |
which a majority of the passengers are babies in arms. There will | |
probably be some roughs on board, who will be certain to get up a row, | |
in which case you can make the babies in arms very effective as | |
"buffers" for warding off blows, while the crowd will save you from | |
being knocked down. | |
Should there be a bar on board the steamer, it will be the duty of the | |
gentlemen of the party to keep serving the ladies with cool beverages | |
from it at brief intervals during the trip. This will promote | |
cheerfulness, and, at the same time, save for picnic duty proper the | |
contents of the stone jars that are slumbering sweetly among the | |
pork-pies and apple-dumplings by which the lunch-baskets are occupied. | |
Never take more than one knife and fork with you to a picnic, no matter | |
how large the party may be. The probability is that you may be attacked | |
by a gang of rowdies and it is no part of your business to furnish them | |
with weapons. | |
Avoid taking up your ground near a swamp or stagnant water of any kind. | |
This is not so much on account of mosquitoes as because of the small | |
saurian reptiles that abound in such places. If your party is a large | |
one, there will certainly be one lady in it, at least, who has had a | |
lizard in her stomach for several years, and the struggles of the | |
confined reptile to join its congeners in the swamp might induce | |
convulsions, and so mar the hilarity of the party. | |
To provide against an attack by the city brigands who are always | |
prowling in the vicinity of picnic parties, it will be judicious to | |
attend to the following rules: | |
Select all the fat women of the party, and seat them in a ring outside | |
the rest of the picnickers, and with their faces toward the centre of | |
the circle. In the event of a discharge of missiles this will be found a | |
very effective _cordon_--quite as effective, in fact, as the feather | |
beds used in the making up of barricades. | |
Let the babies of the party be so distributed that each, or as many as | |
possible of the gentlemen present, can have one at hand to snatch up and | |
use for a fender should an attack at close quarters be made. | |
If any dark, designful strangers should intrude themselves upon the | |
party, unbidden, the gentlemen present should by no means exhibit the | |
slightest disposition to resent the intrusion, or to show fight, as the | |
strangers are sure to be professional thieves, and, as such, ready to | |
commit murder, if necessary. Treat the strangers with every | |
consideration possible under the circumstances. Should there be no | |
champagne, apologize for the absence of it, and offer the next best | |
vintage you happen to have. Of course, having lunched, the strangers | |
will be eager to acquire possession of all valuables belonging to the | |
party. The gentlemen, therefore, will make a point of promptly handing | |
over to them their own watches and jewelry, as well as those of their | |
lady friends. | |
Having arrived home, (we assume the possibility of this,) refrain, | |
carefully, from communicating with the police on the subject of the | |
events of the day. The publicity that would follow would render you an | |
object of derision, and no possible good could result to you from | |
disclosure of the facts. But you should at once make up your mind never | |
to participate in another picnic. | |
* * * * * | |
A CHANCE FOR OUR ORGAN GRINDERS. | |
The famous _mitrailleur_, or grape-thrower, with which LOUIS NAPOLEON | |
has already commenced to astonish the Prussians, suggests congenial work | |
for the numerous performers on the barrel-organ with which our large | |
cities are at all times infested. It is worked with a crank, exactly | |
after the manner of the too-familiar street instrument; and might easily | |
be fitted with a musical cylinder arranged for the performance of the | |
most inspiriting and patriotic French airs. Should Italy, at present | |
neutral, take side with France hereafter, she should at once withdraw | |
her wandering minstrels from all parts of the world, and set them to | |
work on the "double attachment" engine of L.N. Nothing could be more | |
appropriate for working the _mitrailleur_ than a corps of barrel-organ | |
grinders from the land of the Grape. | |
* * * * * | |
THE ORIGIN OF PUNCHINELLO. | |
MR. PUNCHINELLO: Though aware that you "belong to Company G," and must | |
not be bothered, I wish to ask whether you are descended from the famous | |
chicken-dealer of Sorrento, who sold fowls in Naples, and was well-known | |
in that fun-loving city for the humor of his speech and the oddity of | |
his form. He was called "PULCINELLA," I believe, the name being the same | |
as that of his wares. | |
If not to this celebrated wag, perhaps you trace your origin to Mr. | |
PUCCIO D'ANELLO, who so delighted a company of actors at Aceria, with | |
his jokes and gibes, that they invited him to join them, and soon | |
discovered that they had found a Star. | |
If neither of these classical wags was your ancestor, may I ask, who the | |
deuce _did_ you come from? Yours, truly, | |
CURIOSO. | |
* * * * * | |
RECIPE TO BE TESTED. | |
We see that they have been "firing cannon in the fields near Paris, to | |
bring on a rain." If there is any virtue in this recipe, they are likely | |
to get some moist weather to the north-eastward of Paris, to say the | |
least. The firing in that quarter may even lead to a Reign in Paris such | |
as France has not lately seen. We would not go so far as to _predict_ | |
anything of this sort. Oh, no; for we are aware that the moment we | |
should do so, NAPOLEON would lick the Prussians on purpose to show the | |
world that we didn't hit it that time. | |
* * * * * | |
THE WATERING PLACES. | |
Punchinello's Vacations. | |
When one wants to see the great people who are to be seen nowhere else, | |
one goes to the celebrated White Sulphur Springs of Virginia; and, very | |
correctly supposing that there might be persons there who would like to | |
see him, Mr. PUNCHINELLO took a trip to the aforesaid springs. He found | |
it charming there. There was such a chance to study character. From the | |
parlors where Chief-Justice CHASE and General LEE were hob-nobbing over | |
apple-toddies and "peach-and-honey," to the cabins where the wards of | |
the nation were luxuriating in picturesque ease beneath the shade of | |
their newly-fledged angel of liberty, everything was instructive to the | |
well-balanced mind. | |
Here, too, in these fertile regions, were to be seen those exquisite | |
floral creations known as mint-juleps, the absence of which in our | |
Northern agricultural exhibitions can never be sufficiently deplored. | |
Witness the beauty of the design and the ingenious delicacy of the | |
execution of one of the humblest of the species. | |
From experience in the matter, Mr. P. is prepared to say, that not only | |
as an exponent of the beauties of nature, but as a drink, a mint-julep | |
is far superior to the water which gives thin resort its celebrity. Why | |
people persist in drinking that vilest of all water which is found at | |
the fashionable springs, Mr. P. cannot divine. If it is medicine you | |
want, you can get your drugs at any apothecary's, and he will mix them | |
in water for you for a very small sum extra. And the saving in expense | |
of travel, board and extras, will be enormous. | |
But in spite of this fact, there were plenty of distinguished-looking | |
people at the White Sulphur. Mr. P. didn't know them all, but he had no | |
doubt that one of them was General LEE; one PHIL. SHERIDAN; another | |
Prof. MAURY; another GOLDWIN SMITH; and others Governor WISE; HENRY WARD | |
BEECHER, WADE HAMPTON, WENDELL PHILLIPS, RAPHAEL SEMMES, and LUCRETIA | |
MOTT. One man, an incognito, excited Mr. P.'s curiosity. This personage | |
was generally found in the society of LEE, JOHNSTON, POPE, HAMPTON, | |
GREELEY, and those other fellows who did so much to injure the Union | |
cause during the war. One day Mr. P. accosted him. He was an oddity, and | |
perhaps it would be a good idea to put his picture in the paper. | |
"Sir!" said Mr. P., with that delicate consideration for which he is so | |
noted, "why do you pull your hat down over your eyes, and what is your | |
object in thus concealing your identity? Come sir! let us know what it | |
all means." | |
The _incognito_ glanced at Mr. P. with the corner of his eye, and | |
perceiving that he was in citizen's dress, pulled his hat still further | |
over his face. | |
"My business," said he, "is my own, but since the subject has been | |
broached, I may as well let _you_ know what it is." | |
"You know me, then?" said Mr. P. | |
"I do," replied the other, and proceeding with his recital, he said, | |
"You may have heard that a number of <DW64> squatters were lately ejected | |
from a private estate in this State, after they had made the grounds to | |
blossom like the rose, and to bring forth like the herring." | |
"Yes, I heard that," said Mr. P. | |
"Well," said the other, "I happened to have some land near by, and I | |
invited those <DW64>s to come and squat on my premises--" | |
"Intending to turn them off about blossoming time?" said Mr. P. | |
"Certainly, certainly," said the other, "and I am just waiting about | |
here until they put in a wheat crop on part of the land. I can then sell | |
that portion, right away." | |
"Well, Mr. BEN BUTLER," said Mr. P., "all that is easily understood, now | |
that I know who you are; but tell me this, why are you so careful to | |
cover your face when in the company of civilians or ladies, and yet go | |
about so freely among these ex-Confederate officers?" | |
"Oh," said the other, "you see I don't want to be known down here, and | |
some of the women or old men might remember my face. There's no danger | |
of any of the soldiers recognizing me, you know." | |
"Oh, no," cried Mr. P. "None in the world, sir." | |
"And besides," said the modest BUTLER, "it's too late now for me to be | |
spooning around among the women." | |
"That's so," said Mr. P. "Good-bye, BENJAMIN. Any news from Dominica?" | |
"None at all," said the other, "and I don't care if there never is. I am | |
opposed to that annexation scheme now." | |
"Sold your claims?" said Mr. P. The incognito winked and departed. | |
That evening at supper Mr. P. remarked that his biscuits were rather | |
hard, and he blandly requested a waiter to take one of them outside and | |
crack it. The elder PEYTON, who runs the hotel, overheard Mr. P.'s | |
remark, and stepping up to him, said: | |
"Sir, you should not be so particular about your food. What you pay me, | |
while you stay at my place, is my charge for the water you drink. The | |
food and lodging I throw in, gratis." | |
Mr. P. arose. | |
"Mr. PEYTON," said he, "when I was quite a little boy, my father, making | |
the tour of America, brought me here, and I distinctly remember your | |
making that remark to him. Since then many of my friends have visited | |
the White Sulphur, and you invariably made the same remark to them. Is | |
there no way to escape the venerable joke?" | |
The gentle PEYTON made no answer, but walked away, and after supper, one | |
of the boarders took Mr. P. aside and urged him to excuse their host, as | |
he was obliged to make the joke in question to every guest. The | |
obligation was in his lease. | |
So the matter blew over. | |
Reflecting, however, that if he had to pay so much for the water, that | |
he had better drink a little, Mr. P. went down to the spring to see what | |
could be done. On the way, he met Uncle AARON, formerly one of | |
WASHINGTON'S body-servants. The venerable patriarch touched his hat, and | |
Mr. P., hoping from such great age to gain a little wisdom, propounded | |
the following questions: | |
"Uncle, is this water good for the bile?" | |
"Oh, lor! no, mah'sr! Dat dar water 'ud jis spile anything you biled in | |
it. Make it taste of rotten eggs, for all the world, sir! 'Deed it | |
would.' | |
"But what I want to know," said Mr. P., "is why the people drink it." | |
"Lor' bless you, mah'sr! Dis here chile kin tell you dat. Ye see de | |
gem'men from de Norf dey drinks it bekase they eat so much cold wheat | |
bread. Allers makes 'em sick, sir." | |
"And why do the Southerners drink it?" | |
"Wal, mah'sr, you see dey eats so much hot wheat bread, and it don't | |
agree wid 'em, no how." | |
"But how about the <DW52> people? I have seen them drinking it, | |
frequently," said Mr. P. | |
"Oh, lor, mah'sr, how you is a askin' questions! Don't you know dat de | |
folks hab to drink it bekase dey don't get no wheat bread at | |
all?" | |
Mr. P. heard no better philosophy than this on the subject while he | |
remained at the White Sulphur. When he left, he brought a couple of | |
gallons of the water with him, and intends keeping it in the | |
water-cooler in his office, for loungers. | |
* * * * * | |
THE POEMS OF THE CRADLE. | |
CANTO III. | |
"JACK and GILL went up the bill | |
To fetch a pail of water; | |
JACK fell down and broke his crown, | |
And GILL came tumbling after." | |
How many persons there are who read those lines without giving one | |
moment's thought to their hidden beauty. Love, obedience, and devotion | |
unto death, are here portrayed; and yet people will repeat the lines of | |
the melancholy muse with a smile on their faces, and even teach it to | |
their young children as a sort of joyful lyric. | |
My own infant-mind was tampered with in the same manner; and after I had | |
committed the poem to memory I was proudly called up by my fond and | |
doting parents to display my infantile acquirements before admiring | |
visitors. The result might have been foreknown. All my infancy and youth | |
passed away, and I never once perceived the hidden worth of these lines | |
till I had tumbled down a hill myself, cracked my crown, and was laid up | |
with it a week or more. During that time I had leisure to muse on the | |
fate of poor JACK. When my mind expanded so as to take in all the | |
sublimity of his devotion and death, my heart was filled with admiration | |
and astonishment, and I resolved I would make one effort to rescue the | |
memory of poor JACK and loving GILL from the oblivion it seemed to be | |
falling into, in the greater admiration people gave to the musical style | |
of the writer. | |
"JACK and GILL went up the hill." | |
Here you see the obedient, loving, long-suffering, put-upon drudge of | |
his brothers and sisters-we will take the liberty of giving him a few of | |
each as we are a little more generous than the author--who was compelled | |
(not the author, but JACK,) to do all the chores, fetch and carry, 'tend | |
and wait, bear the heat and burden of the day, and be the JACK for all | |
of them. He was not dignified by the respectable title of JOHN, or | |
JONATHAN, but was poor simple JACK. | |
Virtue will always be rewarded, however, and even freckle-faced, | |
red-headed JACK had one friend, blue-eyed, tender-hearted GILL, who, | |
seeing the unhesitating obedience he rendered to all, forthwith | |
concluded that one so lone and sad could appreciate true friendship and | |
understand the motives that prompted her to give, unsolicited, her | |
gushing love. So, when the good JACK started up the hill, loving GILL | |
generously offered to accompany him. Probably the other children looked | |
out of the windows after them, and laughed, and jeered, and wondered | |
whither they were going; but, observing the pail, concluded they were | |
going | |
"To fetch a pail of water," | |
which they were willing JACK should do, as it would save them the | |
possibility of being ordered to do it; not that there was a probability | |
of such a command being given, but there was a slight danger that the | |
thing might happen in case JACK was occupied otherwise when the water | |
was needed. But now that he had gone for it, they were all right, and | |
rejoiced exceedingly thereat. | |
Meanwhile the two little sympathizing companions toiled up the steep | |
hill, drinking in with every inhalation of the balmy air copious | |
draughts of the new-found elixir of life. "Soft eyes looked love to eyes | |
that spake again,"[2] and their hearts melted beneath each tender glance. | |
The little chubby hands that grasped the handle of the pail timidly | |
crept closer together, and by the time they had reached the rugged top, | |
it needed but one warm embrace to mingle the two souls into one, | |
henceforth forever. | |
This was done. | |
Tremblingly they drew back, blushing, casting modest glances at each | |
other; and then, to aid them in recovering from their confusion, turned | |
their attention to the water, which reflected back two happy, smiling | |
faces. Filling the pail with the dimpled liquid mirror, they turned | |
their steps homeward. | |
Light at heart and intoxicated with bliss, poor JACK, ever unfortunate, | |
dashed his foot against a stone, and thus it was that | |
"JACK fell down and broke his crown." | |
[Oh! what a fall was there, my countrywomen!] Fearful were the shrieks | |
that rent the mountain air as he rolled down the hillside. The pail they | |
had carried so carefully was overturned and rent asunder, and the | |
trembling water spilled upon the smiling hill-side--fit emblem of their | |
vanishing hopes. | |
Down went the roley-poley boy, like a dumpling down a cellar-door; | |
crashing his head against the cruel rocks that stood in stony | |
heartedness in his way, and dashing his brains out against their hard | |
sides. His loving companion, eyes and month dilated with horror, stood | |
still and rigid, gazing upon the fearful descent, and its tragic ending, | |
then throwing her arms aloft, and giving a fearful shriek of agony that | |
thrilled with horror the hearts of the hearers--if there were any--cast | |
herself down in exact imitation of the fall of her hero, rolled over and | |
over as he did, and ended by mingling her blood with his upon the same | |
stones. | |
_His_ crown was broken diagonally; _hers_ slantindicularly; that was the | |
only difference. Her suicidal act is commemorated in the line, | |
"And GILL came tumbling after." | |
The catastrophe was witnessed by the assembled family, who hastened to | |
the bleeding victims of parental injustice, and endeavored to do all | |
that was possible to restore life to the mangled forms of the two who | |
loved when living, and in death were not divided. | |
But all in vain. They were dead, and not till then did the family | |
appreciate the beautiful, self-denying, heroic disposition of the little | |
martyr, JACK. | |
The two innocent forms were buried side by side, and the whole country | |
round mourned the fate of the infant lovers. | |
Painters preserved their pictures on canvas, and poets sung them at | |
eventide. The beauties of their life, and their tragic death, were given | |
by the poet-laureate of the day in the words I have just transcribed; | |
and such an impression did these make on the minds of the inhabitants, | |
that the whole population took them to heart, and, with tears in their | |
eyes, taught them to their children, even unto the third and fourth | |
generations. | |
Alas! it was reserved for our day and generation to gabble them over | |
unthinking, carelessly unmindful of the fearful fate the words describe. | |
Repentant ones, drop to their memory a tear, even now! It is not too | |
late! | |
[Footnote 2: Original, by some other fellow.] | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: | |
WHAT WE MAY EXPECT IN OUR ARMY OF THE FUTURE. | |
"NONE BUT THE BRAVE," ETC.] | |
* * * * * | |
LETTER FROM A CROAKER. | |
MR. PUNCHINELLO: You have not, I believe, informed your readers, one of | |
whom I have the honor to be, as to whether you have yet united yourself | |
to any Designing Female. As this is a matter peculiarly interesting to | |
many of your readers, all of whom, I have not the least doubt, are | |
interested in your welfare, I would advise some statement on your part, | |
respecting it. | |
I trust, my dear sir, that, if you are as yet free, you will take the | |
well-intended advice of a sufferer, and steer entirely clear of the | |
shoals and quicksands peculiar to the life of a married man, by never | |
embarking in the matrimonial ship. | |
Do not misunderstand me. I lived happily, very happily, with my sainted | |
BELINDA--it must be confessed that she had a striking partiality for | |
sardines, which caused considerable of a decrease in the profits of my | |
wholesale and retail grocery establishment. I cherish no resentment on | |
that account, but, as you probably well know, one of the discomforts of | |
matrimonial existence is children. | |
Sir, I have a daughter, who is considered passably good-looking by | |
certain appreciative individuals. Since the unfortunate demise of my | |
lamented wife, the profits of the mercantile establishment of which I am | |
proprietor have largely increased, and as REBECCA is my only child, | |
there is a considerable prospect of her bringing to the man who espouses | |
her, a comfortable dowry, and probably a share in my business. | |
I keep no man-servant, and after my daughter retires--generally at the | |
witching hour of two in the morning,--I am obliged to hobble down | |
stairs, extinguish the lights, cover the fire, lock up the house, and | |
ascertain whether it is perfectly fire and burglar-proof for the time | |
being. | |
Were this, sir, the only annoyance to which I am subjected, my wrath | |
would probably expend itself in a little growling, but hardly have I | |
reposed myself upon my couch, ere my ear catches an infernal tooting and | |
twanging and whispering, and a broken-winded German band, engaged by an | |
admirer of my REBECCA, strikes up some outrageous _pot pourri_, or | |
something of that sort, and sleep, disgusted, flees my pillow. | |
Last night--or rather this morning--they came again. Their discordant | |
symphonies roused me to desperation. I seized a bucket of slops, and; | |
opening the window, dashed the contents in the direction of the music; | |
the full force of the deluge striking a fat, froggy-looking little | |
Dutchman, who was puffing and blowing at a bassoon infinitely larger | |
than himself. He was just launching out into a prodigious strain, but it | |
expired while yet in the bloom of youth. He remained for a short time in | |
the famous posture of the Colossus of Rhodes, vainly endeavoring to | |
shake off the cigar-stumps and other little _et ceteras_ which were | |
clinging to him like cerements, uttering the while unintelligible oaths. | |
Then he struck for his _domus et placens uxor_ at as rapid a rate as his | |
little dumpy legs could carry him. | |
If they come to-night--if they dare to come--I will give them a dose | |
which they will remember. | |
My dear sir, what can I do to rid myself of these annoyances? The girl | |
has been to boarding-school, and so can't be sent there again. She has | |
no friends or relations whom it would be advisable to put her off upon. | |
Assist me then, in this, the hour of my tribulation, and you, my dear | |
Mr. PUNCHINELLO, will merit the lasting gratitude of an | |
UNHAPPY FATHER. | |
[The best thing an "Unhappy Father" can do, under the circumstances, is | |
to learn to play upon the bass horn, and then, should the brazen | |
serenaders again make their appearance, he can give them blow for | |
blow.--ED. PUNCHINELLO.] | |
* * * * * | |
That Iron "Dog." | |
The latest bit of intelligence given by the police regarding the "dog" | |
so much spoken of in connection with the Twenty-third street murder, is | |
that it is not, as at first stated, the kind of instrument used by | |
shipwrights. In other words, the police have discovered that it is not a | |
Water-dog, though, up to the present date, they have not been able to | |
prove it a Bloodhound. | |
* * * * * | |
Severe Penalty. | |
A newspaper gravely informs us that "the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania | |
has refused the Writ of Error in the case of Dr. SHOEPPE, convicted of | |
the murder of Mr. STEINNEKE, _and will be hanged_." | |
Can nothing be done to save this Court? One may say they had no business | |
to refuse the Writ. But, at any rate, we are of opinion that the | |
punishment is excessive. | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: WONDERFUL TOUR DE FORCE, | |
PERFORMED "ON THE BEACH AT LONG BEACH," BY PROFESSOR JAMES FISK, JR., | |
THE GREAT AMERICAN ATHLETE.] | |
* * * * * | |
HIRAM GREEN ON JERSEY MUSQUITOES. | |
A Hard-fought Battle--Musquitoes have no Sting that Jersey Lightning | |
cannot Cure. | |
New Jarsey is noted among her sister countries, as bein' responsible for | |
2 of the most destructive things ever got up. | |
The first is of the animal kingdom, and varyin in size from a 3 yeer old | |
snappin' turtle, to a lode of hay. | |
It has a bayonet its nose, in which is a skwirt gun charged with | |
pizen. | |
It has no hesitation, whatsoever, of shovin' it's pitch-fork into a | |
human bein', and when a feller feels it, it makes him think old | |
SOLFERINO has come for him, and no mistake. | |
The sirname of this sleep-distroyin' animile, is Muskeeter. And they | |
like their meet raw. | |
Misery Number 2 is a beverige manufactured from the compound extract of | |
chain litenin on the wing, and ile of vitril. It is then flavored with | |
earysipelas and 7 yeer itch, when it is ready to lay out it's man. | |
I was on a visit to Jarsey, a short time ago, and if ever a man was | |
justified in cussin' the day he ever sot foot onto the classick red | |
shores of New Jarsey, (which soil, by the way, is so greasy that all the | |
red-headed New Jarsey gals use it for hair ile, while for greasin' a | |
pancake griddle it can't be beat,) it was the undersined. | |
The first nite I was in that furrin climb, after hangin' my close over a | |
chair, and droppin' my false teeth in a tumbler of water, I retired in a | |
sober and morril condition. | |
"Balmy sleep, sweet nater's hair restorer," which sentiment I cote from | |
Mr. DICKENS, who, I understand from the Bosting clergy, is now sizzlin', | |
haden't yet folded me in her embrace. | |
Strains of melody, surpassin' by severil lengths the melifflous | |
discordant notes of the one-armed hand organist's most sublimerest | |
seemfunny, sircharged the atmosfear. Ever and anon the red-hot breezes | |
kissed the honest old man's innocent cheek, and slobbered grate capsules | |
of odoriferous moisture, which ran in little silvery streams from his | |
reclinin' form. Yes! verily, great pearls hung pendant from his nasal | |
protuberants. | |
In other words, I hadent gone to sleep, but lay their sweatin' like an | |
ice waggon, while the well-known battle song of famished Muskeeters fell | |
onto my ear. The music seized; and a regiment of Jarsey Muskeeters, all | |
armed to the teeth and wearin' cowhide butes, marched single-file into | |
my open window. | |
The Kernal, a gray-headed old war-worn vetenary, alited from his hoss, | |
and tide the animal to the bed-post. | |
The Commander then mounted ontop of the wash-stand, and helpin' hisself | |
to a chaw of tobacker out of my box, which lay aside him, the old | |
scoundrel commenced firin' his tobacker juice in my new white hat. "See | |
here, Kernal," said I, somewhat riled at seein' him make a spittoon of | |
my best 'stove-pipe,' "if it's all the same to you, spose'n you eject | |
your vile secretion out of the winder." | |
"Cork up, old man," said the impudent raskle, "or ile spit on ye and | |
drown you." | |
All about the room the privates were sacreligously misusing my property. | |
One red-headed old Muskeeter, who was so full of somebody's blood he | |
couldn't hardly waddle, was seated in the rockin'-chair, and with my | |
specturcols on his nose, was readin' a copy of PUNCHINELLO, and laffin' | |
as if heed bust. | |
Another chap had got my jack-nife, and was amusin' hisself by slashin' | |
holes in my bloo cotton umbreller, which two other Muskeeters had shoved | |
up, and was a settin' under, engaged in tyin' my panterloon legs into | |
hard nots. | |
Another scallawag had jammed my coat part way into my butes, and was | |
pourin' water into 'em out from the wash-pitcher, and I am sorry to say | |
it, evry darned Muskeeter was up to some mean trick, which would put to | |
blush, even a member of the New Jarsey legislater. | |
Suddenly the Kernal hollered: | |
"To arms!" | |
And every Muskeeter fell into line about my bedside. | |
"Charge bagonets!" said the Kernal. At which the hul lot went for me. | |
Their pizened wepins entered my flesh. | |
They charged onto my bald head. Rammed their bayonets into my arms--my | |
back--my side--and there wasen't a place bigger'n a cent, which they | |
diden't fill with pizen. | |
There I lay, groanin' for mercy. | |
But Jersey Muskeeters, not dealin' in that article, don't know what it | |
is. | |
Like the new collecter MURFY, when choppin' off the heads of FENTON | |
offis holders, mercy hain't their lay, about these times. | |
At this juncture a company of draggoons clinchin' their pesky bills into | |
me, dragged me off onto the floor. | |
And then such a horrible laff they would give, when I would strike for | |
them and miss hittin'. | |
There I lay on the floor, puffin' and blowin' like a steem ingine, while | |
the hull army was dancin' a war dance around my prostrate figger, and | |
the old Kernal was cuttin' down a double shuffle on the wash-stand, | |
which made the crockery rattle. | |
I kicked at 'em as they would charge on my feet and l--limbs. I grabbed | |
at 'em, as they charged on my face--arms--and shoulders. | |
Slap! bang! kick! sware! | |
I couldn't stand it much longer. | |
As a big corpulent feller, who, I should judge, was gittin' readdy to | |
jine a Fat mans club, went over me, I catched him by the heel. | |
I hung on to him with my best holt | |
He dragged me all over the floor. | |
My head struck the bedposts, and other furniture. | |
3 other Muskeeters got straddle of me, and as if I was a hoss, spurred | |
me up purty lively. | |
All of a sudden the Muskeeter I was hangin' to give a yank, and drew out | |
his foot, left his bute in my hand. | |
Brandishin' the bute about my head, I cleared at lot of Muskeeters. | |
Jumpin' to my feet I made things fly for a minuit, pilin' up the killed | |
and wounded in a promiscous heap. | |
Seein' the Kernal settin' up there enjoyin' the fun, I let fly the bute | |
at him. | |
Smash! went the lookin-glass. | |
The venerable commanding Muskeeter had dodged, and was settin' on the | |
burow, with his thumb on his nose, wrigglin' his fingers at me in a very | |
ongentlemanly manner. | |
There I was again unarmed, dancin' about, swelled up like a base ball | |
player on match day. | |
"Blood IARGO!" was the cry. | |
I tride to make a masked battery with a piller. It was no protection | |
again Jarsey Muskeeters. | |
As RACHEL mourned for her step-mother, I sighed for me home. | |
"Why, oh why," I cride, "did I leave old Skeensboro?" | |
A widder wearin' a borrowed suit of mornin'--eleven children cryin' | |
because the governor had been chawed up by Muskeeters crowded into my | |
thoughts. | |
The army was gettin' reddy to charge onto me agin, and avenge their | |
fallen comrags. | |
Suddenly a brite thought struck me. | |
I ceased a sheet and waved it for a flag of truce. | |
The order wasen't given. | |
"Kernal," said I, "before we continue this fite, let's take a drink all | |
around, and I'll stand treat." | |
"Done," said he, "trot out your benzine." | |
I opened the burow drawer, and took out a black bottle. | |
I pulled the cork and filled all the glasses, then poured a lot into the | |
wash-bowl, when I handed the bottle to the Kernal. | |
"Make ready! Take aim! Drink!" Down went the licker. | |
I laffed a revengeful laff, as every condemned Muskeeter turned up their | |
heels and cride: | |
"Water--send my bones back to Chiny--mother dear, I'm comein', 300,000 | |
strong--we die--by the hand--of Jarsey--lite--" | |
And Jarsey litenin', more powerful than the chassepo gun of France or | |
the needle-gun of Prushy, had done its work, and the old man was saved | |
to the world! | |
It was 3 days before any close would again fit me. | |
I looked more like a big balloon than a human bein', I was swelled up so | |
with the pizen. | |
My blessin's on the head of the individual who invented Jarsey litenin'. | |
Nothin else would have saved the Lait Gustise's valuable life. | |
Ever of thow, | |
HIRAM GREEN, Esq., | |
_Lait Gustise of the Peece._ | |
* * * * * | |
From our own Correspondent. | |
Rumors of war from Europe must always be expected, for how can we get | |
Pacific news by Atlantic Telegraph? | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: "WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS," ETC, | |
_First Small Bather_. "WOULDN'T OUR MAMS GIVE US FITS IF THEY CAUGHT US | |
SWIMMIN'?" | |
_Second Ditto_. "I'LL BET YER!" | |
(_But neither of the happy little truants knows that a thief is running | |
off with their clothes_.)] | |
* * * * * | |
REFORM IN JUVENILE LITERATURE. | |
Since the thrilling moment when GUTTENBURG made his celebrated | |
discovery, numbers of persons have tried their hands--and undoubtedly | |
their heads also--at Books for the Young. Hitherto, many of them have | |
evinced a sad lack of judgment in respect of matter. | |
Would you believe it, in this highly moral and virtuous age? they have | |
actually written stories!--stories that were not true! They haven't | |
seemed to care a button whether they told the truth or not! Where can | |
they have contracted the deadly heresy that imagination, feeling, and | |
affection, are good things, deserving encouragement? Mark the effect of | |
these pernicious teachings! Hundreds and thousands--nay, fellow mortal, | |
_millions_ of children,--now walk the earth, believing in fairies, | |
giants, ogres, and such-like unreal personages, and yet unable (we blush | |
to say it!) to tell why the globe we live on is flattened at the poles! | |
Is it not a serious question whether children who persistently ignore | |
what is true and important, but cherish fondly these abominable fables, | |
may not ultimately be lost? | |
But, thanks to the recent growth of practical sense--or the decline of | |
the inventive faculty--in writers for the young, a better day is | |
dawning, and there is still some hope for the world. Men of sense and | |
morality are coming forward: they dedicate their minds to this | |
service--those practical minds whence will be extracted the only true | |
pabulum for the growing intellect. It is to minds of this stamp--so | |
truly the antipodes of all that is youthful, spontaneous, and | |
child-like, (in a word: frivolous,) that we must look for those solid | |
works which, in the Millennium that is coming, will perfectly supplant | |
what may be termed, without levity, the "Cock and Bull" system of | |
juvenile entertainment. Worldly people may consider this stuff graceful | |
and touching, sweet and loveable; but it is nevertheless clearly | |
mischievous, else pious and proper persons wouldn't have said so, time | |
and again. | |
For our part, we may as well confess that our sympathies go out | |
undividedly toward that important class who are averse to | |
Nonsense,--more particularly _book_-nonsense,--which they can't stand, | |
and won't stand, and there's an end of it. There is something | |
exceedingly winning, to us, in that sturdy sense, that thirst for | |
mathematical precision, that impatience of theory, that positive and | |
self-reliant--we don't mind saying, somewhat dogmatical--air, that | |
sternness of feature, thinness of lip, and coldness of eye, which belong | |
to the best examples. We respect even the humbler ones; for they at | |
least hate sentiment, they do not comprehend or approve of humor, and | |
they never relish wit. What does a taste for these qualities indicate, | |
but an idle and frivolous mind, devoted to trifles: and how fatal is | |
such a taste, in the pursuit of wealth and respectability! | |
Fantastic people have much to say of the "affections," the "graces and | |
amenities of life," "soul-culture," and the like. We cannot too deeply | |
deplore their fatuity, in giving prominence to such abstractions. As for | |
children, the most we can concede is, that they have a natural--though, | |
of course, depraved--taste for stories: yes, we will say that this | |
fondness is irrepressible. But, what we really must insist on, is, that | |
in gratifying that fondness, you give them _true_ stories. Where is the | |
carefully trained and upright soul that would not reject "JACK, the | |
Giant-killer," or "Goody Two-shoes," if it could substitute (say, from | |
"New and True Stories for Children,") a tale as thrilling as this: | |
"When I was a boy, I said to my uncle one day, 'How did you | |
get your finger cut off?' and he said, 'I was chopping a | |
stick one evening, and the hatchet cut off my finger.'" | |
Blessings, blessings on the man who thus embalmed this touching | |
incident! Who does not see that the reign of fiction is over! | |
That the parental portion of the public may judge what the future has in | |
store for their little ones (who, we hope, will be men and women far | |
sooner than their ancestors were,) we present them with a fragrant | |
nosegay (pshaw! we mean, a shovel-full) of samples, commending them, | |
should they wish for more, to the nearest Sabbath-school library. | |
Ah, it is a touching thing, to see some great philanthropist come | |
forward, at the call of Duty and his Publisher (perhaps also quickened | |
by the hollow sound emitted by his treasure-box), and compress himself | |
into the absurdly small compass of a few pages 18mo., in order to afford | |
himself the exalted pleasure of holding simple and godly converse with | |
children at large! | |
"All truth--no fiction." What further guarantee would you have? How | |
replete with useful matter must not a book with _that_ assurance be! Let | |
us read: | |
"The Indians cannot build a ship. They do not Know how to get | |
iron from the mines, _and they do not know enough._ | |
"Besides, they do not like to work, and like to fight | |
_better_ than to work. | |
"When they want to sail, they burn off a log of wood, and | |
make it hollow by burning and scraping it with sharp stones." | |
Now we ask, does not this satisfy your ideal of food for the youthful | |
mind? Observe that it is simple, direct, graphic, satisfying. It cannot | |
enfeeble the intellect. It will be useful. There is something tangible | |
about it. The child at once perceives that if the Indians knew how to | |
"get iron from the mines," and "knew enough" in general, they would | |
build ships, in spite of their distaste for work. There can be no doubt | |
that this is "all truth--no fiction," for Indians are sadly in want of | |
ships. They like to sail; for we learn that "when they want to sail" | |
they are so wild for it, that they even go to the length of "burning off | |
a log of wood, and making it hollow by burning and scraping it with | |
sharp stones." We thus perceive the significance of the apothegm, "Truth | |
is stranger than fiction." The day is not far distant when children will | |
think as much of the new literature as they formerly did of certain | |
worm-lozenges, for which they were said to "cry." | |
And where everything has been inspired by the love of Truth, even the | |
cuts may teach something. If "a canoe," contrary to the general | |
impression, is at least as long as "a ship," it is very important that | |
children should so understand it; and if "a pin-fish" is really as big | |
as "a shark," no mistaken deference to the feelings of the latter should | |
make us hesitate to say so. | |
No child, we are convinced, is too young to get ideas of science. In one | |
of the model books we are pleased to find this great truth distinctly | |
recognized: | |
"'Is there anything like a lever about a wheelbarrow?' said | |
his father. 'O yes, sir,' said JAMES. 'The axle; and the | |
wheel is the prop, the load is the weight, and the power is | |
your hand.'" | |
This, we should say, speaks for itself. | |
Nor is a child ever too young to get ideas of thrift. One of our writers | |
for infants observes, after explaining that the Dutch reclaimed the | |
whole of Holland from the sea by means of <DW18>s, "they worked hard, | |
saved their money, and so grew rich." Any child can take such hints. | |
Neither is it wholly amiss to demonstrate that a child can't put a clock | |
in his pocket. For it is plain that he would else be trying to do so | |
sometime. | |
Now, where in the "Arabian Nights" do you find anything like this?--We | |
answer, triumphantly, Nowhere! | |
"'JAMES,' said his father, 'do not shut up hot water too | |
tight, and take care when it is over the fire.' | |
"'A lady was boiling coffee one day, and kept the cover on | |
the coffee-pot too long. When she took it off, the water | |
turned to steam, and flew up in her face, and took the skin | |
off. | |
"'Do you know how they make the wheels of a steamboat move? | |
They shut up water tight in a great kettle and heat it. Then | |
they open a hole which has a heavy iron bar in it, the steam | |
lifts it, in trying to get out. That bar moves a lever, and | |
the lever moves the wheels. | |
"'Machines are wonderful things.'" | |
This fact the reader must distinctly realize. And doesn't he realize | |
that the days of JACK, the Giant-killer, and Little Red Riding Hood, are | |
about over? We want truth. The only question is, (as FESTUS observed), | |
What is Truth? | |
* * * * * | |
PUNCHINELLO CORRESPONDENCE | |
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. | |
_Derrick_.--There is a superstition afloat that, if you see a ladder | |
hoisted against a house, and, instead of passing outside the ladder you | |
pass under it, some accident or affliction will befall you. What about | |
this? | |
_Answer._.--It all depends upon circumstances. If, while passing under | |
the ladder, a hod of bricks should fall through it and strike you on the | |
head, then an "accident or affliction" shall have befallen you: | |
otherwise not. | |
_Nincompoop_.--I hear a great deal about the "log" of the _Cambria._ Can | |
you tell me how it is likely to be disposed of? | |
_Answer_.--It is to be manufactured into snuff-boxes for the officers | |
and crew of the _Dauntless_, as a delicate admission that they are up to | |
snuff and not to be sneezed at. | |
_Nick of the Pick_.--What is the best way of securing one's self from | |
the bodily damages to which all persons who attend pic-nic parties now | |
seem to be liable? | |
_Answer_.--Don't go to pic-nic parties. Rough it at home. | |
_John Brown_.--We cannot insert jokes on the number of SMITHS in the | |
world--except as advertisements. For lowest rates see terms on the | |
cover. | |
_Hircus_.--We are sorry to say that your remarks on Baby Farming are not | |
based upon facts. In nine cases out of ten it has nothing whatever to do | |
with Husbandry. | |
_Acorn_.--As this is the seventh time you have written to us, asking | |
whether corns can be cured by cutting, so it must be the last. The thing | |
palls, and we must now try whether ACORN cannot be got rid of by | |
cutting. | |
_Horseman_.--No; we never remember to have met a man who did not "know | |
all about a horse." If such a man can be found, his fortune and that of | |
the finder are assured. | |
_Seeker_.--It may be true that man changes once in every seven years but | |
that will hardly excuse you from paying your tailor's bill contracted in | |
1862, on the ground that you are not the same man. | |
_Fond Mother_.--None but a brutal bachelor would object to a "sweet | |
little baby," merely because it was bald-headed. | |
_Sempronius_.--Would you advise me to commit suicide by hanging? | |
_Answer_.--No. If you are really bound to hang, we would advise you to | |
hang about some nice young female person's neck instead of by your own: | |
it's pleasanter. | |
_Wacks_.--Yes, the Alaska seal contracts will undoubtedly include the | |
great Seal of the United States. | |
_"Talented" Author_.--We do not pay for rejected communications. | |
_Many Inquiriers_.--We can furnish back numbers to a limited extent; | |
future ones by the cargo, or steamboat. | |
* * * * * | |
FINANCIAL. | |
WALL STREET, AUGUST 2ND. | |
Respected Sir: Acting upon your suggestion that, despite the repugnance | |
with which the truly artistic mind must ever view it, Commerce was a | |
rising institution, and that amongst the thousands of the refined and | |
haughty who read PUNCHINELLO with feelings of astonishment and awe, | |
there were some misguided men whose energies had been perverted to the | |
pursuit of filthy lucre, your contributor yesterday descended into the | |
purlieus of the city in quest of information wherewith to pander to the | |
tastes of the debased few. | |
It would be useless to point out to you that 10 A.M. is not the hour at | |
which it is the custom of Y.C. to tear himself from his luxurious conch. | |
His conception of the exalted has always been associated with late | |
breakfasts. On this memorable occasion, however, duty and a bell-boy | |
called him; and at the extraordinary hour to which he has referred he | |
arose and set about his investigations. | |
A party of distinguished and sorrowing friends accompanied him as far as | |
BANG'S. The regard which he cherishes for poetry and art had hitherto | |
marked out this pleasant hostelrie as the utmost limit of his down-town | |
perambulations. The conversation of his distinguished friends was | |
elevating: the potations in which they drank their good wishes were | |
equally, if not more so. Having deposited $2.35 for safe-keeping with a | |
trusted friend, your contributor hailed a Wall Street stage and sped | |
fearlessly to his destination. He has gone through the ordeal safely. | |
Annexed are the result of his labors, in the shape of bulletins which | |
were forwarded to but never acknowledged by a frivolous and unfeeling | |
editor. | |
WALL STREET, 10-1/2 A.M.--The market opened briskly with a tendency | |
towards DELMONICO'S for early refreshments. Eye-openers in active | |
demand. Brokers have undergone an improvement. | |
11 A.M.--On the strength of a rumor that a gold dollar had been seen in | |
an up-town jewelry store, gold declined 1.105. | |
11.15 A.M.--In consequence of a report that Col. JAS. FISK, JR., has | |
secured a lease of Plymouth Church, and is already engaged in | |
negotiations with several popular preachers, Eries advanced one-half per | |
cent. | |
HALF-PAST ELEVEN A.M.--A reaction has commenced in Eries, it being given | |
out that Madame KATHI LANNER had sustained an injury which would | |
necessitate her withdrawal from the Grand Opera House. | |
TWELVE O'CLOCK.--Just heard some fellow saying, "St. Paul preferred." | |
Couldn't catch the rest. It seems important. What did St. Paul prefer. | |
Look it up, and send me word. | |
HALF-PAST TWELVE.--Market excited over a dog-fight. How about St. Paul? | |
ONE.--Police on the scene. Market relapsed. Anything of St. Paul yet? | |
Send me what's-his-name's Commentaries on the Scriptures. | |
HALF-PAST ONE.--News has been received here that Commodore VANDERBILT | |
was recently seen in the neighborhood of the Croton reservoir. In view | |
of the anticipated watering process, N.Y.C. securities are buoyant. | |
Many, however, would prefer their stock straight. But what was it St. | |
Paul preferred? Do tell. | |
TWO O'CLOCK.--Immense excitement has been created on 'Change by a report | |
that JAY GOULD had been observed discussing Corn with a prominent | |
Government official. A second panic is predicted. | |
QUARTER PAST TWO.--Later advices confirm the above report. The place of | |
their meeting is said to have been the Erie Restaurant. Great anxiety is | |
felt among heavy speculators. | |
HALT-PAST TWO.--It is now ascertained that the Corn they were discussing | |
was Hot Corn at lunch. A feeling of greater security prevails. | |
THREE O'CLOCK.--Intelligence has just reached here that a dime-piece was | |
received in change this morning at a Broadway drinking saloon. Gold has | |
receded one per cent, in consequence. Eries quiet, Judge BARNARD being | |
out of town. | |
P.S. I haven't found out what St. Paul preferred. What's-his-name don't | |
mention it in his Commentaries. | |
HALF-PAST THREE.--Sudden demand for New York Amusement Co.'s Stock. | |
HARRY PALMER to reopen Tammany with a grand scalping scene in which the | |
TWEED tribe of Indians will appear in aboriginal costume. NORTON, GENET, | |
and _confreres_ have kindly consented to perform their original _roles_ | |
of _The Victims_. | |
P.S. Unless I receive some definite information concerning that | |
preference of St. Paul's, I shall feel it incumbent on me to vacate my | |
post of Financial Editor. | |
FOUR O'CLOCK.--On receipt of reassuring news from Europe, the market has | |
advanced to DELMONICO'S, where wet goods are quoted from 10 cents | |
upwards. Champagne brisk, with large sales. Counter-sales (sandwiches, | |
etc.,) extensive. Change in greenbacks greasy. | |
P.S. Asked a fellow what St. Paul preferred. He said, "St. Paul | |
Preferred Dividends, you Know." Perhaps St. Paul did. A great many | |
stockholders do. But what stock did St. Paul hold? Was it Mariposa | |
or--"Only just taken one, but, as you observe, the weather _is_ | |
confounded hot--so I don't mind if I--" | |
GREENBAYS. | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: THE DOG IN THE MANGER. | |
Crispin won't do the work himself, and won't let John Chinaman do it. ] | |
* * * * * | |
OUR PORTFOLIO. | |
We have just received from "DICK TINTO," our special correspondent at | |
the seat of war, the following metrical production said to have been | |
written by HENRI ROCHEFORT in prison, but suppressed in obedience to | |
orders from the Emperor. PUNCHINELLO felicitates his readers upon the | |
enterprise which enables him to lay it before them, and flatters himself | |
that the enormous trouble and expense involved in hauling it to this | |
side of the Atlantic, will not prevent him from doing it again--if | |
necessary. | |
AU PRINCE IMPERIAL. | |
SCENE.--_A square fronting the Bureau of the chemin de fer for Chalons | |
and Metz. Time, Midi._ | |
The Prince Imperial, en route for the seat of war, is seated upon a | |
milk-white steed. Beneath his left arm he convulsively carries a | |
struggling game-cock, with gigantic gaffs, while his right hand feebly | |
clutches a lance, the napping of whose pennant in his face appears to | |
give him great annoyance and suggests the services of a "Shoo-fly." | |
Around him throng the ladies of the Imperial bed-chamber and a cohort of | |
nurses, who cover his legs with kisses, and then dart furtively between | |
his horse's _jambes_ as if to escape the pressure of the crowd. Just | |
beyond these a throng of hucksters, market-women, butchers, bakers, | |
etc., vociferously urge him to accept their votive offerings of garden | |
truck, carrots, cabbages, parsnips, haunches of beef, baskets of French | |
rolls and the like, all of which the Prince proudly declines, whereupon | |
the vast concourse breaks forth into this wild chant to the air of | |
BINGEN ON THE RHINE. | |
From fountains bright at fair Versailles, | |
And gardens of St. Cloud-- | |
With a rooster of the Gallic breed | |
To cock-a-doodle-do-- | |
Behold! our Prince Imperial comes, | |
And in his hands a lance, | |
That erst he'll cross with German spears | |
For glory and for France. | |
They've ta'en his bib and tucker off, | |
And set him on a steed; | |
That he may ride where soldiers ride, | |
And bleed where soldiers bleed. | |
They've cut his curls of jetty hair, | |
And armed him _cap a pie_, | |
Until he looks as fair a knight | |
As France could wish to see. | |
Ho! ladies of the chamber, | |
Ho! nurses, gather near; | |
Your _charge_ upon a _charger_ waits | |
To shed the parting tear. | |
Come! kiss him for his mother, | |
_Et pour sa Majeste,_ | |
And twine his brow with garlands of | |
The fadeless _fleurs de lis._ | |
_Voila!_ who but a few moons gone | |
Of babies held the van, | |
Now wears his spurs and draws his blade | |
Like any other man! | |
Then come, ye courtly dames of France, | |
Oh! take him to your heart, | |
And cheer as only woman can | |
Our beardless BONAPARTE; | |
For ere another sun shall set, | |
Those lips cannot be kissed; | |
And through the grove and in the court | |
Their prattling will be missed. | |
The light that from those soft blue eyes | |
Now kindly answers thine, | |
Will flash where mighty armies tread, | |
Upon the banks of Rhine. | |
Yea, hide from him, as best you can, | |
All womanly alarms, | |
Nor smile with those who mocking cry, | |
"Behold! A _babe-in-arms!_" | |
A babe indeed! Oh! sland'rous tongues, | |
A Prince fresh from his smock, | |
Shows _manly_ proof if he can stand | |
The battle shout and shock. | |
And this is one on whom the gods | |
Have put their stamp divine: | |
The latest, and perchance the last | |
Of Corsica's dread line. | |
Then for the Prince Imperial | |
_Citoyens_ loudly cheer: | |
That his right arm may often bring | |
Some German to his _bier_; | |
That distant Rhineland, trembling, | |
May hear his battle-cry, | |
And neutral nations wondering ask, | |
"_Oh! how is this far high?_" | |
Our private dispatches from the seat of war in Europe are very | |
confusing. The "Seat" appears to be considerably excited, but the "War" | |
takes things easily, and seems to have "switched off" for an indefinite | |
time. It is observed by many that there never was a war precisely like | |
this war, and if it hadn't been for a Dutch female, the Duchess of | |
Flanders, it is fair to suppose that PUNCHINELLO wouldn't have been out | |
of pocket so much for cablegrams. The Duchess took it into her head (and | |
her head appears to have had room for it,) that her blood relative, | |
LEOPOLD, couldn't get his blood up to accept the Spanish Crown. Well, as | |
it turned out, the Duchess was right. Anyhow, she went for L., (a letter | |
by the way, which few Englishman can pronounce in polite society,) and | |
told him that there was | |
"* * * a tide in the affairs of men, | |
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." | |
LEOPOLD said he had heard of that tide; but he didn't believe in always | |
"follerin' on it," no matter what betided. Then the Duchess got up her | |
Dutch spunk, and spoke out pretty freely, saying as much as if LEOPOLD | |
were a tame sort of poodle, and that _she_ ought to have been born to | |
wear breeches, just to show him how a man should act in a great crisis | |
like the present. | |
"Just so," says LEOPOLD, "but you see the 'crisis' is what's the matter. | |
If it wasn't for the 'crisis,' I'd go in for ISABELLA'S old armchair | |
faster than a hungry pig could root up potatoes." FLANDERS saw at a | |
glance how the goose hung, and that her bread would all be dough if | |
something wasn't done, and that quickly. She knew LEOPOLD'S weakness for | |
Schnapps, when he was a boy at Schiedam, and, producing a bottle of the | |
Aromatic elixir, with which she had previously armed herself in | |
expectation of his obstinacy, poured out a glassful and requested him to | |
clear his voice with it. Fifteen minutes after his vocal organs had been | |
thus renewed, LEOPOLD was in a condition to see things in an entirely | |
new light, and hesitated no longer to write the following note to | |
General PRIM: | |
Dear PRIM: The thing has been satisfactorily explained to me, and I | |
accept. Enclosed find a bottle of Schnapps. You never tasted Schnapps | |
like this. The Duchess says she don't care a cuss for NAP, and that I | |
mustn't neither. | |
--LEOPOLD, SIGMARINGEN-HOHENZOLLERN. | |
This is a veritable account of the origin of the European | |
"unpleasantness," and can be certified to any one who will call upon us | |
and examine the original dispatches. | |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
| | | |
| A.T. Stewart & Co. | | |
| | | |
| Are offering at the following | | |
| | | |
| EXTREMELY LOW PRICES, | | |
| | | |
| Notwithstanding the large advance in gold, | | |
| | | |
| TWO CASES EXTRA QUALITY | | |
| | | |
| JAPANESE POPLINS In Silver-Grey | | |
| and Ashes of Roses, | | |
| | | |
| 75 cts. per yard, formerly $1.25 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| REAL GAZE DE CHAMBRAY, | | |
| Best quality, 75 cts. per yard, formerly $1.80 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| A LARGE ASSORTMENT OF | | |
| SUMMER SILKS | | |
| For Young Ladies, in Stripes and Checks, $1 per | | |
| yard, recently sold at $1.50 and $1.75 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| HEAVY GROS GRAIN | | |
| Black and White Silks, | | |
| $1 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| STRIPED MONGOLIAN SILKS, | | |
| FOR COSTUMES, $1 per yard. | | |
| 100 Pieces in "American" Black Silks. | | |
| (Guaranteed for Durability,) | | |
| $2 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| A COMPLETE ASSORTMENT OF | | |
| Trimming Silks and Satins. | | |
| Cut Either Straight or Bias, for | | |
| $1.25 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| A CHOICE AND SELECTED STOCK OF | | |
| Gros Grain Silks, | | |
| At $2.60 and $2.75 per yard. | | |
| | | |
| CREPE DE CHINES, 56 Inchs wide, | | |
| IN EVERY REQUISITE COLOR. | | |
| | | |
| BROADWAY, | | |
| 4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets. | | |
| | | |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
| | | |
| A.T. Stewart & Co. | | |
| | | |
| Are closing out their stock of | | |
| FRENCH, ENGLISH, AND DOMESTIC | | |
| CARPETS, | | |
| | | |
| (The greatest portion just received), | | |
| | | |
| Oil Cloths, Rugs, Mats, Cocoa and Canton | | |
| Mattings, &c., | | |
| | | |
| At a Great REDUCTION IN PRICES, | | |
| | | |
| Notwithstanding the unexpected extraordinary | | |
| rise in gold. | | |
| | | |
| _Customers and Strangers are Respectfully_ | | |
| INVITED TO EXAMINE. | | |
| | | |
| BROADWAY, | | |
| | | |
| 4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets. | | |
| | | |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
| | | |
| A.T. STEWART & Co. | | |
| | | |
| Are Closing out all their Popular Stocks of | | |
| Summer Dress Goods, | | |
| | | |
| AT PRICES LOWER THAN EVER. | | |
| | | |
| BROADWAY, | | |
| | | |
| 4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets. | | |
| | | |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
| | | |
| Extraordinary Bargains | | |
| | | |
| in | | |
| | | |
| LADIES' PARIS ADD DOMESTIC READY-MADE | | |
| Suits, Robes, Reception Dresses, &c. | | |
| Some less than half their cost. | | |
| | | |
| AND WE WILL DAILY OFFER NOVELTIES IN | | |
| Plain and Braided Victoria Lawn, Linen | | |
| and Pique Travelling Suits. | | |
| | | |
| CHILDREN'S BRAIDED LINEN AND | | |
| | | |
| Pique Garments, | | |
| | | |
| SIZES FROM 2 YEARS TO 10 YEARS OF AGE, | | |
| | | |
| PANIER BEDOUIN MANTLES, | | |
| IN CHOICE COLORS, From $3.50 to $7 each | | |
| | | |
| Richly Embroidered Cashmere and | | |
| Cloth Breakfast Jackets, | | |
| PARIS MADE, | | |
| $8 each and upward. | | |
| | | |
| A.T. STEWART & Co. | | |
| | | |
| BROADWAY, | | |
| | | |
| 4TH AVE., 9TH AND 10TH STREETS. | | |
| | | |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
| | | |
| PUNCHINELLO. | | |
| | | |
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+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
[Illustration: A PASSAGE FROM CENTRAL PARK. | |
_Whittier's Barefoot Boy_. "O GOLLY! WHAT A SHAME FOR THAT OLD CUSS TO | |
CHUCK THE STUMP OF HIS CIGAR INTO THE LAKE, 'STEAD OF DROPPING IT WHERE | |
A FELLOW COULD PICK IT UP!"] | |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
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+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
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| ILLUSTRATED HUMOROUS AND SATIRICAL | | |
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| The first number of which was issued under | | |
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+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
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+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | |
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End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punchinello Vol. 1, No. 21, August 20, | |
1870, by Various | |
*** |