HALL AND HAYES.
The friends of Dr. HAYKS and those of Captain HALL are engaged in a heated discussion as to which of the two ought to be sent by Congress in search of the North Pole. As the public does not know who is right and who is wrong, we present our readers with the arguments of each party; so that they can decide which explorer is the man for the post—we should say, pole.
WHAT THE HAYES PARTY SAYS.
1. The Pole being surrounded by water, must be reached by boats. HAYES is a sailor and HALL is not. Therefore HAYES is the man to sail to the Pole.
2. HAYES is a Bostonian; HALL is a Western man. Bostonians are famed for their skill in prying into every thing; while Western men stupidly mind their own business. Therefore HAYES is naturally fitted to become an explorer.
3. HALL spent his time while in the Arctic Region in the society of Esquimaux. HAYES attended to his ship, and lived on pork and beef like a Christian. Therefore HAYES is the better man.
4. HAYES understands the use of instruments, and can take observations of the temperature of hot springs, if any are found. HALL knows nothing about instruments, and could not tell the time by a barometer if his life depended upon it. Therefore HAYES should be the Congressional favorite.
5. HALL is hot-tempered and once killed one of his crew. HAYES is a cool man and never killed any body, except as a medical practitioner. Cool men are at home in the Arctic Region. Therefore send HAYES.
WHAT THE HALL PARTY SAYS.
1. If the Pole is surrounded by water, it must be a visible point of land. HALL is a landsman, and therefore the proper man to send in search of land. To send a sailor like HAYES in quest of land would be absurd. Therefore HALL is the right man.
2. HALL is a steady, hardworking, energetic Western man. HAYES is a meddling Yankee. Of course HALL is the better man for carrying out a difficult enterprise.
3. HALL has lived in the Arctic land as the Arctic people do; while HAYES knows nothing of the people of that region. Therefore HALL is by far the best man to send.
4. HAYES can have no use for his instruments in a place where there is nothing but ice. HAYES would, therefore, only add to the cost of the expedition. HALL can take all necessary observations with his eyes, which cost Congress nothing and are easily carried. Therefore HALL is by all odds the man for the expedition.
5. If HALL is hot-tempered, so much the better. He will keep warm with less consumption of fuel. That he killed a mutineer is proof of his resolute adherence to discipline. HAYES would never enforce discipline if he dared to inflict no more punishment for mutiny than a draught of Epsom salts. Therefore HALL is plainly the man to command an exploring party.
Here we have the arguments which both sides advance, and our readers can easily make up their minds. As for ourselves, the true course for Congress to pursue seems so plainly evident that if we were asked which is the best man, the Doctor or the Captain, we should unhesitatingly answer in the negative.
Illustration: CINCINNATUS SWEENY.CINCINNATUS SWEENY.
CINCINNATUS SWEENY.
CINCINNATUS SWEENY
(Adapted from AUTHOR'S Classical Dictionary, p. 351.)
"CINCINNATUS had retired to his patrimony, aloof from popular tumults. The successes of the Equi, (young Democracy,) however, rendered the appointment of a Dictator necessary, and CINCINNATUS was chosen to that high office. He laid aside his rural habiliments, assumed the ensigns of absolute power, levied a new army, marched all night to bring the necessary succor to the Consul MINCIUS, (W. M. TWEED,) who was surrounded by the enemy and blockaded in his camp, (Albany,) and before morning surrounded the enemy's army, and reduced it to a condition exactly similar to that in which the Romans had been placed. The baffled Equi were glad to submit to the victor's terms, and CINCINNATUS, returning in, triumph to Rome, (New-York,) laid down his dictatorial power after having held it only fourteen days, and returned to his farm" (Central Park.)
SPRING FEVER,
In such a joyous way?
If it were as you say,
Wouldn't
I
know it, who know every thing!
"Ethereal mildness!" Pshaw! what nonsense, man!
Pooh! "Gentle spring," indeed!
It makes my liver bleed
To hear you talk as only idiots can.
But you're no idiot, THOMSON;
that
I'll say!
I'll yield another bit:
I'm ready to admit
The Seasons may have altered since your day.
At any rate, JAMES, in the windy West
(Which wasn't in your eye—
At least, not frequently)
Your boasted Spring is
not
a gentle guest.
My patience, no! She's the reverse of that!
Ah! hear her savage roar;
(So often heard before!)
And there (confound it!) goes my new Spring hat.
Alas! what means this stupid somnolence?
Why do my pulses go
So "melancholy slow"?
Why can't I think? why always "on the fence"?
O dews and fogs! O rain and snow and slush!
O various other things!
My soul! what need of wings:
Yes, "Spring's delights" are coming with a rush!
But stay, friend THOMSON—what you say is true:
Hereisa nice warm day!
The breezes softly play—
Then why, oh!
why
then, do I feel so blue?
One "would not die in Spring-time," certainly—
Nor any other season,
For the same reason—
But if one can't eat dinner, why
not
die?
Is there no panacea for such ills?
Oh! yes, a jolly one:
I find it in the dun!
In landlords', butchers', grocers', tailors' bills!
The Difference.
GOLDEN calves were worshipped by men of old. Modern men prefer to worship saw-dust calves.
Dramatic Query.
Is Canada to be the Theatre of a Fenian War? It seems that the Canadian Volunteers think so; and, to do justice to the performance, they have taken possession of the whole Front-tier.
The Original Bow.
The EL-bow.
Illustration: THE SICK EAGLETHE SICK EAGLE.COLUMBIA. “DO LET THE POOR BIRD OUT, MR. B.; HE DROOPS SADLY.”Mr. BOOTWELL. “REALLY I DON’T SEE ANY THING THE MATTER WITH HIM, MA’AM. HIS CAGE IS ALL GOLD, AND HE SURELY OUGHT TO BE CONTENTED.”
THE SICK EAGLE.COLUMBIA. “DO LET THE POOR BIRD OUT, MR. B.; HE DROOPS SADLY.”Mr. BOOTWELL. “REALLY I DON’T SEE ANY THING THE MATTER WITH HIM, MA’AM. HIS CAGE IS ALL GOLD, AND HE SURELY OUGHT TO BE CONTENTED.”
AN EXCELLENT OLD SONG MADE NEW.
BY A DEFAULTER.
Is there for his dishonestyWho hangs his head, and a' that?The coward slave, we pass him by,And dare to steal for a' that.For a' that and a' that,Our grabs and games, and a' that,Our business is to make a pileAnd swindle SAM, and a' that.What though the people curse and swearAt losing gold, and a' that?Their fiercest wrath we'll proudly bear,And cash is cash for a' that.For a' that and a' that,Their lawyers, courts, and a' that.The lucky rogue who wins his pileIs king of men for a' that.The President knows how to beatIn battle, siege, and a' that;But we're the lads for swift retreat,Although he growl, and a' that.For a' that and a' that,Our bonds and oaths and a' that,A bouncing swag's the better thingFor gentlemen, and a' that.Then let us pray that come it may,As come it shall for a' that,That plundering gents may keep the sway,And help themselves, and a' that.For a' that and a' that.Leg bail's the thing, and a' that;For travelling improves the mind,The body saves, and a' that.
THE THIRTEENTH MAN IN THE OMNIBUS.
The New-York omnibus was constructed to seat and carry twelve persons; certainly not more. Indeed, when twelve men, of nominal size, sit squarely on the seats and do not clownishly cross their legs, one may ride in an omnibus with comfort. Nay, with these conditions, hemaygenerally escape having his toes crushed, his shins kicked, his shoes soiled, or his trowsers daubed with mud by his neighbor. But alas! how often is this paradisiacal state disturbed by the intrusion of "the thirteenth man in the omnibus."
Shall I attempt to portray the creature? He is pretty well known, and perhaps the picture will be recognized. Sometimes he may be seen standing at the corner of the street lying in wait for the "bus." He is never known to walk toward its starting-place, lest he might be confounded with the "twelve" by getting inside before the seats are filled. No; he is "nothing if not" odd. His very hat never sits squarely upon his head like the hat of a gentleman. It is either elevated in front like a sophomore's, or depressed on one side, as if he had just come from a cheap spree in the Bowery, or was troubled with some obtrusive "bump" that kept his hat awry. If by chance he gets a seat inside the omnibus, (as "accidents will happen," etc.,) he must cross his legs and wipe the mud from his ill-shod feet upon your trowsers or your wife's dress.
Indeed, methinks it was he who invented sitting cross-legged in a public vehicle. Do savages ever sit thus when in close company? I have never been able to imagine what special human sin this ingenious mode of annoyance was meant to punish. It has been suggested that it might be the man's pantomimic protest against sitting at all. But the saddest commentary upon this vice of our hero is, that by some mysterious magnetism of awkwardness and ill-breeding, he has betrayed into imitation of it men whose early education has been less neglected than his own.
Sometimes, as he gets into the "'bus," he carries in his hand or mouth the stump of a half-burned, extinct cigar, which fills the atmosphere with a rank and sickening odor. More frequently he is dressed in well-worn black, and his clothes reek with noisome exhalations of stale tobacco-smoke. Shall I finish his picture? I verily believe he is the original Loafer.
Methinks I see him in my mind's eye. I am riding in a Broadway ominibus. I have just handed up my fare, and, taking my seat, have surrendered myself to a sweet half-hour of reverie. I disdain to spoil my eyes or waste my time by newspaper-reading. I dream, and save my time for better things, as I conceive.
The stage is full. "Twelve inside." The driver does not seem to get along. He is constantly stopping or turning his horses to the sidewalk, right or left. You wonder what is the matter. You begin to think the whole town is striving to get a ride down with you in that particular "'bus." At every street-corner we linger or stop. Suddenly the door is pulled open with a jerk and our enemy leaps in. He sees the seats are filled, but he does not hesitate. There is always room for him. Indeed, his "spirit rises with the occasion." He becomes pertinacious as he is offensive. He tramples upon more than one pair of feet in his struggle to reach the middle of the omnibus. The passengers patiently submit to the intrusion with that quiet good nature with which Americans usually suffer imposition invasive of good manners, or petty social rights. They seem to feel they can "stand it" if he can.
His mode of paying his fare evolves a climax of unconscious impertinence. In order to have free use of one hand to pass up his money, he grasps cane or umbrella with the other hand, by which he holds the pendent strap. By this means he loses control of the lower end of his stick, which thereby becomes an automatic instrument of torture, menacing your face and eyes in quite a savage way. Indeed, his apparent unconsciousness that he is a nuisance, and ought to be kicked out, really approaches the sublime.
He is a pet of the driver, of course. Some innocent people wonder that the drivers of omnibuses or cars should feel so very charitably disposed toward the human family in general, as to take up extra passengers when all seats are filled. Short-sighted mortals! Do you not see it! The more passengers, beyond the complement of the "'bus," the more perquisites for an ill-requited profession.
To return to our black sheep. Look where he stands. As he grows weary, he grasps the straps on either side to steady him. His attitude is a cunningly devised mode of tormenting his fellow-passengers. Either elbow of our nondescript just reaches the hat of your opposite neighbor or yourself. With each jolt of the stage, by a little dexterity of movement, or want of it, he can knock the hats over the eyes of two persons at a time, and by a little shifting of his position he can frequently bring down four by a single spasmodic lunge. When he is fresher, as in the morning, and can hold his own weight, he falls in his more natural posture. Would you know what that may be? Did you ever observe one of the descendants of the Lost Tribes who inhabit Chatham street dreamily waiting for a passing rustic? He is apparently in a comatose state. His abdomen is drawn in; his body is bent like a section of a hoop; his eyes are cast down; while both his hands are thrust deeply into his trowser's pockets.
But I grow weary of the subject, and stop by commending the Thirteenth Man in the Omnibus to curiosity-hunters as a fungus growth of humanity nursed by over-virtuous forbearance.
Hyperborean.
The hyperbole of bores it is, to bore Congress for a hundred thousand dollars to go to the Pole! If Captain HALL wants adventure, let him travel to the Halls of the MONTEZUMAS. If he wishes only to be left out in the cold, let him go to Chili; or else up in a balloon; or let him make himself Republican candidate for something in New York. We believe the North Pole would rather be let alone. The whole subject is, at all events, too HAYES-y just now to be comprehended. There is a sort of KANE-ine madness, which shows itself not in fear of water but in an insane disposition to do big things on ice. Haul off, Captain HALL!
Meteorological Query.
Is a temperance lecture synonymous with a Water Spout?
THE SPIRIT OF THE NAVY.
ITS PORTER. ITS SAILS.
Impressions of an Outsider.
MR. PUNCHINELLO: According to your instructions, your correspondent proceeded to Washington, and there interviewed our present efficient Secretary of the Navy, Admiral PORTER. I found him in his office, surrounded by bills-of-sale of main-tops, carronades, iron-clads, bo'sen's whistles, navy-yards, and other naval articles, the proceeds of which were needed for the future experiments of the Department. These papers were being bound up into bundles and stowed away by his assistant, ROBESON.
After the ordinary greetings had passed between the admiral and your correspondent, the following conversation ensued:
Cor. Admiral, what do you think of the Fifteenth Amendment?
Ad. All right. When Americans want votes, I say, give 'em to 'em.
Cor, (A little apprehensively.) Votes are different from boats, then, admiral?
Ad. Certainly. What do the negroes want with boats?
Cor. How are you satisfied, Mr. Secretary, with the plan of always providing you with a civilian as an assistant?
Ad. I don't like it. Can't help it, though. This one, however, (pointing his thumb over his shoulder atROBESON,) don't give me much trouble. Quiet man.
Cor. What do you think of the condition of Cuba,
Ad. Very nice indeed! Got Admiral POOR out there, cruising around. Just like a picnic, you know.
Cor. Are you in favor of the recognition of Cuban Independence?
Ad. No, sir! What's the good? POOR might have to come home, then.
Cor. You think, then, that recognition would not be a Poor policy?
Ad. Yes—no! No—yes! Doormat! You know what I mean.
Cor.(quickly.) Oh! yes. Certainly,sir! But what is your opinion upon the woman question?
Ad. Don't care a snap. Let 'em vote. Won't make a difference 'board ship.
Cor. You think, then that women will never be sailors, Admiral?
Ad. Nothing they could do. Except to trim the boats; look out for the mizen sheets or somethg o' that kind. Couldn't expect 'em, even in a calm, to be brisk in manning the yards, much less martingales.
Cor. What is your opinion, Admiral, of SHERIDAN'S work among the Piegans?
Ad. (laughing). Neat job. How was that for Lo?
Cor. Good. Do you believe the Pope's infallible, Admiral?
Ad. The Pope's what?
Cor. Do you think that there is no such word as fail with PIO Nono?
Ad. No, no!
Cor. The Empress EUGENIE, Admiral, and Queen VICTORIA—which do you think is the prettiest of these women?
Ad. Never saw 'em swimmin'. Can't say.
Cor. What is your opinion about McFARLAND? Was he justifiable, think you?
Ad. No! Poor shot.
Cor. Have you seenFrou Frou, Admiral?
Ad. Yes. In New-York.
Cor. How did you like it, sir?
Ad. Not much. Do for folks whose taste for that sort of thing is DAILY bred.
Cor. What do you think of oar new City Charter?
Ad. Is it a ship?
Cor. Yes, sir. It is a sort of hardship for New-York.
Ad. Well, the city must be used to that. Will take in its ale pretty much as usual, I reckon.
Cor. What, sir, do you think of Chicago?
Ad. Ah! go way.
Cor. (oblivious of hint.) Where do you buy your pantaloon stuff, Mr. Secretary?
Ad. (sharply.) Where the woodbine twineth.
Cor. Admiral, have you any children?
Ad. (loudly.) ROBESON!
Cor. My dear sir, you surprise me! Is he your son?
Ad. (to assistant.) ROBESON! Did you see MIKE HAINES?
Cor. One moment. Admiral! Let me ask of you, in which, if any, of our New-York companies is your life insured; and do you wear the patent perforated buckskin?—
Here the interview terminated. Your correspondent suddenly discovered that he would have barely time to catch the N. Y. Express, and he took leave with a renewed respect for the spirit of our Navy and its head.
SNIQUE.
Illustration: COME, GENTLE SPRING.COME, GENTLE SPRING.
COME, GENTLE SPRING.
SPRING has come. Now is the time to ask your friends for seed and roots, and to tell somebody they ought to see about the garden. Turn your chickens into your neighbors' grounds, and the cow too, if you think she would like to go there. Now also is the time for house-cleaning, as well as for settling up one's affairs generally; so, after you have called in all the money due you, and paid out as little as possible, perhaps you had better go out West for a week or so.
The sort of Liquor most apt to Tell upon a Man.
PEACH Brandy.
Opinions of the Press.
TheSunthinks that the World's end would be a god-send.
It also thinks that the Tribune is a try weakly and unique daily, besides being a four centenary.
It thinks that the fact of theTimesbeing out of Joint is the reason it is getting the cold Shoulder from its subscribers.
It thinks that theHeraldis not the leading paper, though it may have Ben-it.
It thinks that theSunis awful shiny.
The Politician's Half-and-Half.
DEMAGOGUE and Demijohn.
CONDENSED CONGRESS.
SENATE.
LOFTY Mr. SUMNER wished to know what Mr. CARPENTER meant by pursuing him. He was used to being blackguarded by the enemies of his country, but now he was hounded in the house of his friends. He had looked through the whole Congressional Library and failed to find a precedent for the course of the carping CARPENTER, except in the case of the classic chap who had warmed a viper which had turned again and rent him. He did not mean to say that Mr. CARPENTER was a viper, but he thought nobody but an Adder would put this and that together as Mr. CARPENTER had done.
Mr. CARPENTER said that the passion of his friend from Boston for maundering about himself amounted to a mild mania. All he had done was to suggest that SUMNER had upheld States Rights twenty years ago, and now pretended that he was never any such person.
Mr. SUMNER said that twenty years ago the States Rights boot was upon the other leg. ÆNEAS SILVIUS had well observed that it made a heap of difference whose ox was gored, and HORACE had pointed out the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee. Unless his reading of the Cyclopedia had failed to inform him, he believed that there was a game known as "Heads I win, tails you lose." That was his little game. When Massachusetts States Rights were invoked to aid the colored man, States Rights were good. When Southern States Rights were invoked to crush the colored man, States Rights were bad. As for him, give him liberty or give him rats.
Mr. HARLAN wished to know why the Pacific Railway grant should be passed. No officer of that railway had been to see him about it. He did not believe in legislation of this kind. If a thing were worth having, it was certainly worth asking for. He had no objection to breaking old "ties," but he was averse to paying for new ones, unless he had some personal reason for it. He wished he were altogether in the same position as some of his colleagues, including these "bonds."
WILSON, and CASSERLY, and THURMAN, and THAYER said that HARLAN was of no account, and that was the reason why he had not been "seen." As long as a majority was prepared, it was wasting money to conciliate any body else.
Mr. DRAKE said he had a better thing than the Pacific Railway. It was a bill to provide that the Army and Navy of the United States might be put on a war-footing on the application of any three colored persons. This did not seem to be profitable, but it was. The profit in it was a JOB, but much subtler than in the Pacific Railway. He hoped Senators would see the illimitable vistas of patronage opened by the bill.
HOUSE.
Mr. BUTLER insisted upon his bill to annex Dominica. Somebody had said that we had plenty of Dominicans already in the Southern States. This was net so. He wanted to be Governor-General of Dominica. It was true that silverware was not rife in that island, but there was an infinitude of potential voters, who could be converted into coin. The House refused to see it, however, and proceeded to discuss the case of SYPHER. Mr. BROOKS said SYPHER was nothing. He did not see how SYPHER, who was a nullity, could be figured out to be a member of Congress. Besides, SYPHER lived in Pennsylvania.
Mr. KELLEY said that was the very reason why SYPHER should be admitted. Every body knew, who knew any thing of arithmetic, that a SYPHER in the proper place amounted to a great deal. He would like to know what objection there was to Pennsylvanians representing Louisiana? A Pennsylvanian was sure to be right on the tariff, and a Louisianian was sure to be wrong. Therefore a Pennsylvanian was a much better representative than a Louisianian. Besides, SYPHER's hands were not red with loyal blood, neither had he waded knee-deep in patriotic gore.
Mr. BUTLER wanted to annex Dominica.
Mr. Cox said he did not object to SYPHER'S coming in because he was a Pennsylvanian. He was an Ohio man, and represented a New-York district. But be thought there were too many SYPHERS here now. An integer or two would be more useful to maintain the integrity of the House.
Mr. BUTLER said he would like to introduce a bill to annex Dominica.
Mr. FARNSWORTH said he didn't care any thing about the merits of the case. He knew the committee was all right. It was a martter of comity to go with the committee. If the House added a SYPHER, it would increase their strength ten fold.
Mr. STOKES said he would not weep for SYPHER if he were rejected. But he would sigh for SYPHER, if he could cipher SYPHER in.
Mr. BUTLER moved a bill to annex Dominica.
SYPHER tried to swear himself in, but he had been so much irritated by the previous proceedings that he found that he had sworn himself out.
The House adjourned, except Mr. BUTLER, who was preparing a bill to annex Dominica.
A REMONSTRANCE.
MR. PUNCHINELLO: In theExpressof Saturday, April 17th, I read the following announcement, printed at the foot of the regular weather table, furnished for that journal by Professor THATCHER:
"Prediction.—It will not rain within 3¾ days from 8 P.M."A. E. THATCHER."
The positive character of this prediction made it very, welcome. My wife and myself had been invited by friends in Westchester County to go to their house on Saturday evening, stay all night, and pass the following day—Easter-Sunday—with them. We had nearly made up our minds to do it. They are very pleasant folks to visit, especially about Easter time; for the man of the house has a mania for hens, and, being a dyer by trade, his poultry, using the refuse of the drugs instead of gravel to aid their digestion, lay natural painted eggs of the most varied and delicate tints. If I am strict in any matter of religion, it is with regard to having a blow-out of eggs at Easter. My wife is as fond of eggs as myself, (the yolk sits lightly, she says, which is a joke upon yoke,) and she required no egging on to persuade her to accept the invitation. We were doubtful about the weather, though; but the "Professor's" prediction decided us, and we went.
I thought it felt mighty like rain as we walked the short distance from the railway station to our host's. I had rain-pains in my back, and my wife said her corns were shooting. Nor did our punctual aches deceive us. Between that Saturday night and Easter-Sunday morning it began to rain. Easter-Sunday was the wettest day I remember ever to have experienced. There was no "let up" of the deluge throughout that day and Easter-Monday. We—my wife and I—are suffering dreadfully from the effects of Easter-eggs, which we were obliged to devour by the stack merely to kill time, as we could not walk out. Should we die, I will let you know; but really it was too bad of "Professor" THATCHER.
WEATHERBOUND.
P.S.—Who is "Professor" THATCHER?
THE BIRD OF WISDOM IN IOWA.
Civilization, it seems, is making some headway in Iowa. Boys are no longer allowed to shoot small birds there, especially song-birds. And so the little warblers can pipe it all day, if they like, and when they grow tired and hungry, they are welcome to refresh their small systems at the strawberry beds. There is one feature of the regulation in question, however, that does pain us. While vocal and fly-gobbling talents are tenderly fostered, dignified Wisdom is not only neglected, but persecuted. Our old friend the Owl is reputed by the people of Iowa to be rather particular in his diet, (as all wise creatures are,) and to prefer a nice young spring chicken to almost any other "delicacy of the season"—a proof of wisdom and refinement that proved too much for the people of Iowa. And so they have left the poor old Owl out of the protective enactment; and it is not only legal to shoot him, but meritorious. The legislators could have stood the wisdom, perhaps by itself; and possibly they might have respected the taste; but the combination troubled them, and could not, of course, be tolerated.
Illustration: “THE MERRY FIRST OF MAY.”“THE MERRY FIRST OF MAY.”First Young Wife. “OH! THIS HORRID HOUSE-MOVING—AN'T YOU DISTRACTED ABOUT IT, DEAR?”Second Ditto. “O DEAR! NO. WE HAVE ARRANGED IT NICELY. CHARLES WILL SEE TO THE FURNITURE AND THINGS, AND I WILL SUPERINTEND THE REMOVAL OF FIDO MYSELF.”
“THE MERRY FIRST OF MAY.”First Young Wife. “OH! THIS HORRID HOUSE-MOVING—AN'T YOU DISTRACTED ABOUT IT, DEAR?”Second Ditto. “O DEAR! NO. WE HAVE ARRANGED IT NICELY. CHARLES WILL SEE TO THE FURNITURE AND THINGS, AND I WILL SUPERINTEND THE REMOVAL OF FIDO MYSELF.”
HOW A DISCIPLE OF FOX BECAME A LOVER OF BULL.
PHILADELPHIA, 4th Month, 13th, 1870.
FRIEND PUNCHINELLO: I know thee treats our good city with more consideration than thy brother journalists, and so it is that I address the on this occasion. Last night I listened to the fiddle of OLE BULL. I had long known of this man, even from the time when I first attired myself in a coat, (called by the world after the name of the abdomen of a fish,) as one who
—"skinned a cat
And put the fur around his hat."
But having recently been made aware of the fact that this fiddler only availed himself, in his vain exhibitions, of a part of thefeliswhich was not necessary to its felicity after death, I determined to give a portion of my worldly goods toward the building of a light-house on the Norway coast, for which purpose, I heard it averred, this man's performances were given; and I went to the building where the fiddling was to be, to see if it were done with fidelity for this end.
As I sat in the upper seats of the house, serenely elevated above the vain throng, the man BULL appeared before me. His mien was humble and his hair was of a gray tinge, which I attributed to the ceaseless gratings of the instrument which he held on his arm, as carefully as if it had been an immortal child.
At first, though I labored conscientiously toward that end, I could discover nothing in the sounds he made which reminded me in the least degree of a Norwegian light-house. But suddenly I forgot that useful monument. Against my will, I seemed to be wafted aloft, even to where the seats were cheaper; and anon, I felt as though I disported among the shameless figures on the ceiling of the house. I now forgot all things earthly, even that suspicious bill which friend HOPKINS paid in to my cashier on Second-day. Yea, my whole being became, as it were, strung upon the entrails of a cat and tickled with the tail of horse. I felt as if I were wafted aloft on a blanket of shivering scrapes while quivering angels gently swung me among the stickery stars! And there I heard a melody as though the edges of glass skies were softly rubbed together. Then all was stiller, stiller, until methought I heard nothing but one consumptive angel breathing in his sleep. But even that sound dribbled away, until the last drop seemed to me about to be sucked down into a hole at the bottom of the airy void, when suddenly there came a rush as though a vast light-house of brass had fallen into a sea of tinkling cymbals, and I jumped so violently that my spectacles slipped from off my nose and fell among the vain ones below.
A second time now came the fiddler forth, and soon methought I stood within a surgeon's operating hall. The player drew his bow as though it were a knife, gliding over the limb of a subject in a sleep.
So keen the blade, so soft the touch, the sleeper did not wake! I clutched my knees—my breath did cease!
The skin divides!
And still he sleeps.
The muscles and the tendons fall apart!
He moves not.
Oh! That glittering blade
It deeper goes!
A—Ah!
He wakes!
He yells!
Horror! And now, through flesh and bones that vengeful weapon grinds!
'Mid screams and oaths!
Down falls the leg...
I staggered forward. My hat, which much clamor in the rear had not made me remove, fell over the iron rail and plunged, resounding ike a sinful drum, upon the head of a painted Jersey belle below.
I heeded not, but groped me to the door.
And now I write to thee, friend PUNCHINELLO. Can thee buy me such a fiddle in New-York? Thy friend,
VENTER CLUPLE.