There are few places in the world more remarkable than Quito. It lies
nearly under the equator, yet, being more than 9,000 feet above the
level of the sea, it has a climate like that of our June during the
whole year. The face of nature seems to be covered with perpetual
bloom. While some of the people are sowing their wheat, others are
harvesting theirs.
The city of Quito is itself built upon the skirt of the volcanic
mountain of Pichinca. It is a fine city, with many elegant buildings,
though the streets are irregular, and arches are frequently necessary
in order to cross the yawning chasms created by the eruptions of the
mountain.
In a southerly direction, at the distance of about a hundred miles,
is the celebrated peak of Chimborazo. It is 21,440 feet in height,
and is capped with everlasting snow. In a clear day, I could see
this sublime mountain, seeming like a thin blue cloud, and appearing
almost to blend with the distant sky. I had now given up every hope
of meeting with my uncle, and thought only of finding my way back to
Guiana. An opportunity was soon offered for setting out for my return.
Three Spanish travellers were about to proceed to Assumption on the
Pilcomayo, and then descend the Amazon to its mouth. Balbo and myself
were engaged as servants, and we speedily set forward.
We crossed the mountains on mules, sometimes employing llamas for
carrying our baggage. These animals are about twice the size of the
sheep, and have a gentleness of character that seems to win kindness
from every one. They have indeed one habit which seems incompatible
with their general course of non-resistance; for if you offend them,
they will spit in your face. Yet they cannot endure chastisement. They
will perform the utmost labor of which they are capable; but if you
strike them in order to urge them beyond this, they will lie down and
die.
In a fortnight we reached the small town of Assumpcion. We here
embarked upon the Amazon in a boat, being liberally provided with
everything needful for our voyage.
After a diversity of incidents, we reached the town of Barra, just
below the point where the Rio Negro enters the Amazon. We here parted
with our bateau and joining some other travellers, hired a larger craft
and proceeded on our way. The weather was exceedingly hot, and several
of our company were taken sick, and the Spaniard in whose service I was
engaged, died of fever. Proceeding to the shore, which at this point
was occupied with impenetrable forests, we made a grave in the earth,
and left the body to its solitary repose.
Among the strangers who had joined us at Barra was a gentleman who
appeared marked with care and bowed with years. He was now among the
sick, and I was engaged as his attendant. He had caught the fever
common to this climate, and it seemed rapidly advancing to its crisis.
We had no physician on board, but the stranger seemed competent to
give directions, and these I scrupulously followed. At last we came to
a small settlement on the banks of the river, and he concluded to be
set on shore, in order to obtain medical aid, and have the comforts
necessary to his condition. I went with him to his lodgings, and saw
him placed in his new quarters.
I had felt an interest in him from the beginning, and I now offered to
continue with him, at the same time expressing my desire to return to
Paramaribo. The name seemed to excite his curiosity, and he looked me
steadily in the face for a moment. “Are you going to Paramaribo?” said
he. I replied in the affirmative. “I was going thither myself,” said
he, “but I may never reach that place. Take this, young man, and on
your arrival, deliver it according to its address.” He then handed me a
parcel, and as I took it, I saw upon it the name of M. Scager.
At this moment an agitating thought took possession of my mind.
“Who--what is this stranger? May it not after all be the individual
whom I have sought so long?” Struck with this suggestion, I gazed at
the sick man with such intensity as to attract his attention. “What is
the matter, young man?” said he. “Oh, tell me, sir, tell me your name.
For heaven’s sake tell me your name,” said I. The stranger rose from
his pillow, and with a startled aspect demanded, “Why this curiosity?
what mean these questions?”
“Pray sir,” said I, “are you not my uncle?” The sick man leaned back
upon his pillow, and with a broad smile upon his countenance as if I
had said something exceedingly ludicrous, replied, “I think not; but
what is your name?” “Richard Boldhero,” said I. The stranger once more
rose from his pillow, saying, “Indeed, indeed, Richard Boldhero?” “Yes,
yes,” said I, “and you are my father’s brother--I know you now--you are
indeed my uncle.”
I need not describe the remainder of the scene. The object of my long
search was found. For seven weeks I watched by his bedside, during
which period he seemed hovering betwixt life and death. By slow degrees
he recovered, and in due time we took passage down the river, and at
last reached its mouth. I had now traversed nearly the whole length of
this giant stream--a distance of about 3,500 miles.
At Mazago we took passage in a brig for Paramaribo, and in two weeks we
reached that place. During our voyage, my uncle gave me an account of
his life after his departure from thence. He had settled for a time at
Valparaiso, and had acquired a considerable amount of property. This he
converted into cash, and remitted it to Mr. Hartley, for the purpose of
discharging his debts, as we have already related. Since that period,
he had led an unsettled life, being engaged at different times in
various enterprises. Finding himself advancing into the vale of years,
a desire to return to the scenes of his youth took possession of his
mind, and when I met him, he was on his way to fulfil this wish. He
had not heard of the turn of fortune in his favor, but considered his
name as still disgraced in Paramaribo. It may be readily believed that
the information I gave him brought back the sunshine which had long
departed from his bosom.
I must pass over my own meeting with Mirabel as well as that of her
father. The imagination of the reader will doubtless do better justice
to the scene than any words I can supply. I had been absent a year and
eleven months, and during that period had often suffered the deepest
anxiety for my mother and sister. I now found letters from well, and
enjoying as much happiness as their humble condition would permit. In a
few weeks I set out to return to Connecticut, my uncle having promised
soon to follow me, and bring Mirabel with him.
I reached home in due season, and four months after, his promise was
fulfilled. He settled at Middletown, having recovered a sum of money
sufficient to make him wealthy from the insurance company that had
inflicted upon him such gross injustice and so many sorrows. On hearing
the conduct of Dexter to my father, he caused a suit to be instituted
against him, in the course of which, it was proved that he had been
guilty of embezzling property belonging to the concern. He was obliged
to pay a large sum to my mother, and his own reputation which he had
built up with such hypocritical care, was blasted forever.
In the course of my life, viewing the hard fortune of my father and my
uncle, I had sometimes distrusted the justice of Providence; but I now
saw that the persecutors of both had been made to suffer the severest
retribution. With this reflection I must close my story, only adding
that Mirabel no longer calls me cousin, but many years ago exchanged
that pleasant title for one of a still dearer character.
* * * * *
“LET us remove temptation from the path of youth,” as the frog said
when he plunged in a pond, at seeing a boy pick up a stone.
* * * * *
HE who swims in sin will sink in sorrow.
The Squirrel and Rattlesnake.
Rattlesnakes hunt and secure for their prey, with ease, grey squirrels
that abound in our woods; therefore, they must be possessed of
swiftness to obtain them. Having enjoyed the pleasure of beholding
such a chase in full view, in the year 1821, I shall detail its
circumstances:
Whilst lying on the ground, to watch the habits of a bird which was
new to me, previous to shooting it, I heard a smart rustling not far
from me, and turning my head that way, saw, at the same moment, a grey
squirrel, full grown, issuing from the thicket, and bouncing off in a
straight direction, in leaps of several feet at a time; and, not more
than twenty feet behind, a rattlesnake of ordinary size, pursuing,
drawn out, apparently, to its full length, and sliding over the ground
so rapidly, that, as they both moved away from me, I was at no loss to
observe the snake gain upon the squirrel.
The squirrel made for a tree, and ascended its topmost branches as
nimbly as squirrels are known to do. The snake performed the same task
considerably more slowly, yet so fast, that the squirrel never raised
his tail nor barked, but eyed the enemy attentively as he mounted and
approached. When within a few yards, the squirrel leaped to another
branch, and the snake followed by stretching out two thirds of his
body, whilst the remainder held it securely from falling. Passing thus
from branch to branch, with a rapidity that astonished me, the squirrel
went in and out of several holes, but remained in none, knowing well,
that wherever his head could enter, the body of his antagonist would
follow; and, at last, much exhausted and terrified, took a desperate
leap, and came to the earth with legs and tail spread to their utmost,
to ease the fall. That instant the snake dropped also, and was within a
few yards of the squirrel before it began making off.
The chase on land again took place, and ere the squirrel could reach
another tree, the snake had seized it by the back, near the occiput,
and soon rolled itself about it in such a way, that although I heard
the cries of the victim, I scarcely saw any portion of its body. So
full of its ultimate object was the snake, that it paid no attention
to me, and I approached it to see in what manner it would dispose of
its prey. A few minutes elapsed, when I saw the reptile loosening
gradually and opening its folded coils, until the squirrel was entirely
disengaged, having been killed by suffocation. The snake then raised
its body from the ground, and passed its head over the dead animal in
various ways, to assure itself that life had departed; it then took
the end of the squirrel’s tail, swallowed it gradually; bringing first
one and then the other of the hind legs parallel with it, and sucked
with difficulty, and for some time, at them and the rump of the animal,
until its jaws became so expanded, that, after this, it swallowed the
whole remaining parts with apparent ease.
This mass of food was removed several inches from the head in the
stomach of the snake, and gave it the appearance of a rouleau of money
in a purse with both ends towards its centre; for, immediately after
the operation of swallowing was completed, the jaws and neck resumed
their former appearance. The snake then attempted to move off, but this
was next to impossible; when, having cut a twig, I went up to it, and
tapped it on the head, which it raised, as well as its tail, and began
for the first time to rattle. I was satisfied that, for some lapse of
time, it could not remove far, and that the woods being here rather
thin, it would soon become the victim of a vulture. I then killed it,
and cut it open, to see how the squirrel lay within.
I had remarked that after the process of swallowing was completed,
singular movements of the body had taken place; a kind of going to and
fro for a while, not unlike the convulsive motions of a sick animal,
as a dog, for instance, going to vomit. I concluded that some internal
and necessary operation was going on. This was proved, when I found the
squirrel lying perfectly smooth, even to its hair, from its nose to the
tip of its tail. I noted all this on the spot. This over, I sought my
game again, and felt a great satisfaction; but having met my friend,
Mr. James Perry, on whose lands, in Louisiana, I was then hunting, and
having related what had just happened, he laughingly said, “Why, my
dear sir, I could have told you this long ago, it being nothing new
to me.” These facts, I trust, are quite sufficient to exemplify the
faculties of swiftness, and the powers of extension and diminution, in
the rattlesnake.--_Mr. Audubon’s Notes on the Rattlesnake._
* * * * *
BUTTER was not known to the Greeks; they have no word which gives an
idea of it.
There is Time Enough.
This is one of the most mischievous sentences in the English language.
Not that it is bad in itself--for it is strictly true, as we intend to
show presently. But its meaning is sadly perverted, and what was meant
for good, becomes the occasion of evil.
Many a good thing might have been done had it been begun in season; but
because there was time enough, it was let alone, and let alone, and so
not started until too late, or never moved at all.
But there is such a thing as bringing good out of evil. The bee
extracts honey, as sweet, if not as abundant, from the thistle, as
from the rose. And he who would profit by studying human nature, and
watching divine providence, may learn wisdom from his past errors, and
turn over his misfortune to some good account.
The wisest man in ancient days, (and we believe he was fully as wise as
people commonly are at present,)--the wisest man of ancient days has
given us to understand that there is _a time_ for everything under the
sun. _A time for laughter and for tears, for sorrow and for joy._ A
time for business, a time for recreation, and a time for rest; but he
does not say a word about leisure time, or time for idleness. He speaks
too of a time to die, leaving us to infer, as we may very naturally,
that He, _who made the sun to rule the day_, the moon and stars to
govern the night, has given us _time enough_, just time enough, and
none to spare, to perform all our duties, and to enjoy every rational
pleasure--to make the world better for our having lived in it, and to
become better fitted ourselves, for “another and a better world.”
There is _time enough_, says the schoolboy; whose time runs out, and he
goes half fitted to the counting room, or enters half fitted at college.
_Time enough_, thinks many a young man, if he does not say so, to
commence habits of frugality and economy, and thus provide for future
wealth; but the time never, never comes, and he, to use a homely phrase
of Dr. Franklin’s, “scratches a poor man’s head as long as he lives.”
How many designs have we formed, of doing this and that good thing,
which fell through, not because we had little time, but because we had
time enough, and so wasted one hour after another till the time had
passed.
Time enough to work says the idler and spendthrift; but his clothes
wear out before he finds time to earn new ones; and his pockets are
emptied, and he has no time to replenish them.
Franklin has a homely saying to this effect,--that he who loses an hour
in the morning, must run all day, and ’tis a wonder if he overtakes his
business before night. So, if any one finds himself pinched for time,
it is likely he has thrown away an hour, when he thought he had time
enough and a little to spare.
_Time enough_--say we, when in a serious mood we resolve to be more
diligent, more systematic, more punctual; when we resolve upon any
_reform_.
We do not mean to procrastinate; but while we muse, the moment passes,
and is irrecoverably lost.
Do you say, “We knew all this before?”
No doubt of it. Yet we are apt to think there is not only _time
enough_, but some to spare.
But this is an error, and should be corrected.
The different length of different lives is nothing against our
position, that life is just long enough. The oldest person has enough
of duty and enough of pleasure too, if he lives aright, to occupy
his threescore years and ten, while he whose sun goes down at noon,
has time enough, if he will but improve it, to make his life here a
blessing to others, and that hereafter blessed and glorious to himself.
----“That life alone is long,
Which answers life’s great end.”
* * * * *
THE FOLLY OF WAR.--A few days since a farmer in the town of Jefferson,
heard loud talking and angry words bandied about among his dunghill
fowls, and being a man of a pacific disposition, no ways inclined to
countenance family quarrels, and withal being a little curious to know
the cause of the disturbance, and who was in the right, and who was in
the wrong, with divers other causes him thereunto moving, he leisurely
bent his course towards the scene of cackling and confusion,
aforesaid, which, as is recorded in the case of Bullum _vs._ Boatum,
was “very natural for a man so to do.” Arrived in the vicinity of the
disturbance above particularly referred to, he observed his dunghill
cock, who is a great pugilist, and in the enjoyment of all his
physical strength, engaged in mortal combat with a striped snake of
about eighteen or twenty inches in length, the cock to all appearance
having the decided advantage over his more wily, though less nervous
adversary, dealing his blows in quick succession, employing
alternately his bill and spurs with true pugilistic skill and science.
But the cunning serpent, well aware that the victory must declare
against him by fair combat, brought into requisition a portion of that
innate cunning for which that reptile has been celebrated from the
beginning of the world to the present time; and seizing his antagonist
by the thigh, in the rear, he completely secured himself from any
further danger from him. Thus situated, the cock very naturally
thought his only “safety was in flight,” he accordingly “cleaved the
air majestically with his wings,” the snake keeping fast the hold, and
dangling like a taglock, underneath, until the cock, overcome by
fatigue, alighted on a neighboring apple tree. The snake immediately
coiled his tail around a branch of the tree--the cock again attempted
flight, but he could scarcely clear the limb, from which he hung with
his head downwards, making every effort to escape, but all in vain,
until the farmer came to his assistance--killed the snake and set him
at liberty.
* * * * *
WAGER LOST.--In the year 1765, a waterman having laid a wager that he
and his dog would both leap from the centre arch of Westminster
bridge, and land at Lambeth within a minute of each other; he jumped
off first and the dog immediately followed, but not being in the
secret, and fearing that his master would be drowned, he laid hold of
him by the neck and dragged him on shore, to the great diversion of
the spectators.
* * * * *
ANECDOTE OF A CAT.--Sometime ago a respectable lady from Glasgow,
having been on a visit at the house of a friend in Edinburgh, fancied
a beautiful cat of the Muscovy species, which graced the fireside of
the hostess. The latter, being pressingly solicited, at length
consented to present her visiter with the animal, and puss was
accordingly enclosed in a basket, and transported along with her new
proprietrix in the inside of a carriage to the city of Glasgow. For
seven or eight weeks after the animal’s arrival at her new residence,
she was watched, lest, not being reconciled to the change, she should
make her escape.
At the termination of that time, she littered two kittens; and this
circumstance was considered a sufficient guarantee for her remaining,
for some weeks at least, in her new house. Some days afterwards,
however, puss with both her kittens disappeared, and no traces could be
obtained of the place to which she had been removed, until about eight
days from the time of her disappearance from her Glasgow residence,
when her well-known mew was recognized by her former mistress at the
door of her drawing room. The door was opened; and there was seen
poor puss with her brace of kittens--they in excellent condition--but
she worn to a skeleton. The distance betwixt Edinburgh and Glasgow
is upwards of forty miles; and as the sagacious animal could only
carry one of her kittens such a distance at a time, she must, after
having placed the one, in someplace of concealment in Edinburgh, have
returned to Glasgow for the other--thus travelling altogether upwards
of one hundred and twenty miles. There is no doubt but puss chose the
darkness and silence of the night as the most eligible season for the
performance of her singular journey.
* * * * *
EXAMINATION OF A SCHOOL BOY.--The following anecdote illustrates the
danger of trusting to memory alone, in the acquisition of knowledge.
“Now, my boy,” said the master, “pray inform me who was the first man
in the world?” “Adam,” replied the youth, with quickness.
So far so good; the next attempt was not equally fortunate. “And
pray, who was the _wisest_ man in the world?” “Eve,” replied the boy,
with a triumphant air; at which all the boys burst into a loud fit of
laughter, which the authority of the master calling silence, could not
suppress for some minutes.
“You mistook the question, my boy,” said the master; “you imagined, no
doubt, that I asked who was the wisest _woman_ in the world; and to
that question your answer is very accurate; for, as Eve was the _first_
woman in the world, she must at that time have also been the _wisest_.”
But the mortified pupil was too much disturbed by the laughter of his
schoolfellows to avail himself of this ingenious hint. He appealed to
the ready-made answers of his catechism, to prove that his master alone
was the cause of his distress.
“Look there; question fourth, ‘Who was the first woman in the world?’
answer, ‘Eve;’ but instead of that, when I expected question fourth,
you asked question fifth, that you did!”
A SLY COUPLE.--A gentleman in the county of Stirling kept a
greyhound and a pointer, and being fond of coursing, the pointer was
accustomed to find the hares, and the greyhound to catch them. When the
season was over it was found that the dogs were in the habit of going
out together and killing hares for their own amusement. To prevent
this a large iron ring was fastened to the pointer’s neck by a leather
collar and hung down so as to prevent the dog from running, or jumping
over dykes, &c.
The animals, however, continued to stroll out to the fields together,
and one day the gentleman suspecting that all was not right, resolved
to watch them, and to his surprise found that the moment they thought
they were unobserved, the greyhound took up the iron ring in his mouth,
and carrying it they set off to the hills and began to search for hares
as usual. They were followed and it was observed, that whenever the
pointer scented the hare, the ring was dropped and the greyhound stood
ready to pounce upon poor puss the moment the other drove her from her
form, but that he uniformly returned to assist his companion after he
had caught the prey.
* * * * *
THE PHILOSOPHER PUZZLED.--De la Croix relates the following instance
of sagacity in a cat, which, even under the receiver of an air pump,
discovered the means of escaping a death that appeared to all present
inevitable.
“I once saw,” says he, “a lecturer upon experimental philosophy place
a cat under the glass receiver of an air pump, for the purpose of
demonstrating that very certain fact, that life cannot be supported
without air and respiration. The lecturer had already made several
strokes with the piston, in order to exhaust the receiver of its air,
when the animal, that had begun to feel herself very uncomfortable in
the rarefied atmosphere, was fortunate enough to discover the source
from whence her uneasiness proceeded. She placed her paw upon the hole
through which the air escaped, and thus prevented any more from passing
out of the receiver.
“All the exertions of the officer were now unavailing; in vain he drew
the piston; the cat’s paw effectually prevented its operation. Hoping
to effect his purpose, he let air again into the receiver, which as
soon as the cat perceived, she withdrew her paw from the aperture;
but when he attempted to exhaust the receiver, she applied her paw as
before. All the spectators clapped their hands in admiration of the
wonderful sagacity of the animal, and the lecturer found himself under
the necessity of liberating her, and substituting another in her place,
that possessed less penetration, and enabled him to exhibit the cruel
experiment.”--_Naturalist._
* * * * *
RISING GENIUS.--A boy who displayed a long dangling watch-chain, was
asked, “What’s the time of day, Josiah?” The lad drew out his watch
very ceremoniously, and after examining it for a while referred to
another boy and said, “Is this the figure nine, or the figure seven?”
He was told that it was the figure seven, “Well then,” said the
genius, “it lacks just about half an inch of eight.”
* * * * *
THE FRENCH OFFICER AND HIS MASTIFF.--A French officer, more remarkable
for his courage and spirit than his wealth, had served the Venetian
republic for some years with great valor and fidelity, but had not met
with that preferment which he merited. One day he waited on a nobleman
whom he had often solicited in vain, but on whose friendship he had
still some reliance. The reception he met with was cool and
mortifying; the nobleman turned his back upon the necessitous veteran,
and left him to find his way through a suit of apartments
magnificently furnished. He passed them lost in thought; till casting
his eyes on a sumptuous sideboard, where a valuable collection of
Venetian glass, polished and formed in the highest degree of
perfection, stood on a damask cloth, as a preparation for a splendid
entertainment, he took hold of a corner of the linen, and turning to a
faithful English mastiff which always accompanied him, said to the
animal, in a kind of absence of mind, “Here, my poor old friend, you
see how these haughty tyrants indulge themselves, and yet how we are
treated.”
The dog looked his master in the face and gave tokens that he
understood him. The master walked on, but the mastiff slackened his
pace, and laying hold of the damask cloth with his teeth, at one
hearty pull brought all the glass on the sideboard in shivers to the
ground, thus depriving the insolent noble of his favorite exhibition of
splendor.
* * * * *
A RUSTY shield prayed to the sun and aid, “Oh sun, illumine me with
thy ray!” To which the sun replied, “Oh shield, make thyself clean!”
* * * * *
LACONIC.--Perhaps our readers are not all aware that the style of
speaking called _laconic_ was taken from a practice at Sparta,
anciently _Laconia_. Lycurgus, the lawgiver, exercised the young
people in conversation while at their meals. Questions were asked them
at the table, to which short and ready answers were required. This was
both the amusement and business of old men, and great attention was
paid by those who watched over education, both to the expression and
manner of these replies. The boys, accustomed to have their answers
listened to, corrected and applauded by men for whom they had the
greatest esteem, acquired a quickness and propriety in answering, with
a manner of speaking, at once graceful, respectful, and determined;
while that strict obedience which was required of the young, that
watchful eye that was kept over them by the aged, in whose hands all
the authority of the laws was placed, produced that modesty in youth,
and that reverence for age, for which Sparta became so famous.
* * * * *
A WISE PARROT.--There is an Eastern story told of a person who taught
his parrot to repeat only the words, “What doubt is there of that?” He
carried it to market for sale, fixing the price at one hundred rupees.
A Mogul, seeing the parrot, asked him “Are you worth one hundred
rupees?” The parrot answered, “What doubt is there of that?” The Mogul
was delighted and bought the bird. He soon found out that it was all
he could say. Ashamed now of his bargain, he one day exclaimed, “I was
a fool to buy this bird.” The parrot replied, “What doubt is there of
that?”
[Illustration: Mount Vernon]
Mount Vernon.
This name does not mean a town or village, but an estate, which was
for many years the residence of Washington. We give above, a view of
the house, which still remains, though it is a good deal dilapidated
since it was inhabited by the great and good man to whom it owes its
celebrity.
Mount Vernon is a large farm, near the Potomac, and lies about eight
or ten miles below Alexandria, in the District of Columbia. The house
is an old-fashioned one, of ample size, with a deep piazza in front.
It commands a view of the river and surrounding country, and is a very
pleasant spot. But its chief interest lies in the fact that here was
the house of Washington, and that good, hospitable companion of his
fortunes, lady Washington.
Many people, from all parts of the world, visit this place every year,
and as they walk over the grounds, and tread the halls of the mansion,
the image of the father of his country arises before the fancy, and
the stranger seems to realize the scenes that have long since passed
away. What a power there is in greaness and goodness, to impart an
interest to everything that has been associated with those who, in
life, displayed these noble qualities; and in death, have left behind a
name and fame, which it is the delight of mankind to cherish!
* * * * *
“NINE TAILORS MAKE A MAN.”--This sentence, which had its origin in the
grateful mind of one who had received a start in life from the charity
of tailors, has now, from an ignorance of the circumstance, entirely
lost its meaning. The term had its origin in the following manner.
In 1742, an orphan beggar boy applied for alms at a fashionable
tailor’s shop in London, in which nine journeymen were employed. His
interesting and forlorn appearance touched the hearts of the benevolent
tailors, who immediately contributed nine shillings for the relief
of the little stranger. With this capital, our young hero purchased
fruit, which he retailed at profit. From this beginning, by industry
and perseverance, he finally rose to wealth and distinction, and when
he set up his carriage, he caused to be painted on the pannel, “Nine
tailors made me a man.”
* * * * *
SOCRATES.--It is said of Socrates, the great Grecian philosopher, that
he never allowed his temper to overcome him, but displayed the utmost
tranquillity on all occasions. Feeling at one time displeased with one
of his servants, he said, “I would beat thee, if I were not angry.”
* * * * *
The word “_gentleman_,” is evidently no mark of wealth or station. “You
are no gentleman,” said a waiter in a tavern to a person who had given
him three-pence. Three-pence more would have constituted the gentleman
in the eyes of the waiter, while in truth the three-pence might have
been withheld through poverty.
“What sort of a person,” said an individual to his landlady, “is
that who occupies your back parlor?” “He is a tailor by trade,” said
she, “but very much the gentleman.” This meant that he paid his five
shillings a week regularly!
* * * * *
A SAILOR IN A COACH.--Sailors are favorites, from a general belief in
their superior frankness and gallantry; but an early association with
tar and oakum is by no means calculated to purify the taste or give
the manners the highest finish. We shall not easily forget the
sensation once produced by the arrival of a distinguished naval
officer at an archery meeting in England; he was pleased to descend
the steps of his carriage stern foremost, as if he were descending an
accommodation ladder!
* * * * *
CRITICISM UPON PREACHING.--“I didn’t like our minister’s sermon last
Sunday,” said the deacon who had slept all the sermon time, to a
brother deacon. “Didn’t like it, brother A.; why I saw you _nodding
assent_ to every proposition of the parson.”
* * * * *
Want of punctuality is a species of falsehood.
[Illustration: End of the old year]
Farewell to the Old Year.
We have came to the close of another year and another volume. In the
opposite picture, we see old =1844= going down into the abyss of the
PAST, while the new year, like a youth upon his sled at the
top of the hill, is ready to begin his race. The grisly image of Time
is standing by, marking the flight of years, and notching down the
ineffaceable record upon the cold gray rock of eternity.
Well--so it is--so it must be. “Time and tide will wait for no man.”
The world rolls round, and what mortal can stay its revolutions? Let us
be careful then, to see that this most precious of gifts be diligently
and wisely used. If we have spent our time well, we have no reason to
lament its departure: if we have used it amiss--if we have squandered
it in the pursuit of folly, or used it in the indulgence of sin--then,
then indeed we have reason to mourn over its irreparable loss. But
the moment we are aware of such an error, let us arrest our downward
progress; adopt new and wise resolves, that we may reclaim the loss of
the past, as far as may be, by the more diligent and faithful use of
the future.
And while we talk to others, let not Bob Merry forget his own duty.
For the last twelve months, we have plodded on, bringing forth things
new and old, to the best of our feeble ability, in fulfilment of
our vocation, which is to please and profit our gentle friends and
readers. That we have done well, we cannot presume to say; that we
have intended well, is all we can venture to assume. Amid the cares and
toils of our journey,--the flaws, cross-currents, and tempests of our
voyage--we have at least one comfort--perhaps but one--and that is,
that our little Black Eyes and Blue are still good-humored, and still
cheer us with their confidence and favor. This joyous breeze still
fills our sails--and with this encouragement we shall start upon the
voyage of 1845.
We hope to perform every trip this year, under some new advantages.
We not only retain our old publishers, Messrs. Bradbury, Soden &
Co.,--who commenced the Museum and have carried it on so successfully
through eight volumes--but we have taken on board a new captain,--D.
Mead of New York, who is an experienced sailor, and who intends to
make a dashing voyage. To drop the metaphor, and speak in plain
language--the Museum is hereafter to be issued from two points--the
office of Bradbury, Soden & Co., No. 12 School street, Boston, and that
of the aforesaid D. Mead, 148 Nassau street, New York. The work will
appear with promptitude, and we shall be careful to see that, every
month, the patrons of the work shall find a palatable assortment of
literary varieties. We shall still be happy to receive the favors of
our correspondents, addressed to Bradbury, Soden & Co., 12 School St.,
Boston.
Pleasant Things.
MUSIC BY G. J. WEBB.
[Illustration: Music.]
1. What joy it is from day to day,
To skip and sing, and dance and play;
To breathe the air, to feel the sun,
And o’er the spangled meadows run.
To breathe the air, and feel the sun,
And o’er the spangled meadows run,
And o’er the spangled meadows run.
What joy to move my limbs about,
To whoop and halloo, call and shout,
Among the woods and feel as free
As any bird upon a tree.
What joy, when hungry, ’tis to eat,
What pleasure in our daily meat;
How sweet, when sleep the eyelids close,
To sink in calm and soft repose.
But who bestows the constant joy
On every little girl and boy?
’Tis God, our Father, great and wise,
Whose goodness every joy supplies.
Then let me love and praise the Lord,
And strive to know his holy word,--
To do no wrong, and think no ill,
And evermore perform his will.
Transcriber’s Note
This book was written in a period when many words had not become
standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling
variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been
left unchanged unless indicated below. Obsolete words, jargon, and
alternative spellings were not changed.
Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Obvious printing errors, such as letters that were backwards,
upside down, partially printed, or in reverse order, were corrected.
Unprinted punctuation, final stops missing at the end of sentences and
abbreviations were added. Duplicate letters at line endings or page
breaks were removed. One footnote was moved to the end of the story in
which the anchor occurs. Captions provided in the book are in italics.
Descriptions, not in italics, were added to illustrations without
captions. Lyrics to musical scores are presented as poetry following
the illustration of the music.
Noted:
There may be a number missing from the puzzle at the end of the October
issue: My 2, 8, 10 and is numbered.
The illustration on page 186 shows the year 1835 coming to its
end while the text referring to the illustration speaks of the year
1844 coming to an end.
Text likely missing at a page break:
I now found letters from ... well, and enjoying as much happiness as
their humble condition would permit.
There is no Chapter numbered XIII in the Dick Boldhero story.
The following items were changed:
fond and [axious] anxious hope
one hundred [rix] six dollars
[sackened] slackened his pace
[acession] accession of a single rivulet
opposite side of the [rixer] river
[but-end] butt-end upon the head
[may] many people do not wish
[Sarcely] Scarcely had we
Missing word added:
be [a] matter of surprise