404 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



|tttsrrUa«tcs. 



The following article has been frequently borne on 

 Newspaper- Wings through divers parts of the United 

 States. We do not attach much value to the crea- 

 ture^ but as it is an tstray^ it is perhaps incumbent 

 on us to take it up and put ourmark on it, according 

 to law in such case made and provided. Messrs. 

 Everybody & Co. will, therefore, please to take no- 

 tice that the specimen of the si'biime and beautiful 

 given below, was manufactured L>y, and of right be- 

 longeth unto, The Editor of the JV. £. Farmer. 



SlGNOR SQUEAK'S DANCING ADVERTISEMENT 



A gentleman of vast agility. 

 Who teaches capers and civility, 

 And whose whole life consists of play days 

 Informs the gentlemen and ladies 

 Of Bellows Falls, and other places, 

 That he's Grand Master of the Graces- 

 Professor of the violin, 

 And hopes to suit them to a pin 

 In teaching arts, and fascinations, 

 Dancing and other recreations. 



Amphion, Orpheus, or Apollo, 

 In fiddling he can beat all hollow! 

 And all those wonder-working elves. 

 Who made huge houses build themselves, 

 And rocks responsive to their ditties, 

 Rise into palaces and cities, 

 Compar'd with him, are every one 

 Like fire-bugs, liken'd to the sun. 



He steps a hornpipe so genteel, 

 You'd think him dealing with the de'l. 



Can teach young ladies nineteen millioca 

 Of spick and span new French cotillions, 

 With flourishes, and turns, and twists, 

 Of arms and elbows, toes and wrists. 

 And attitudes of fascination, 

 Enough to ravish all creation. 



He whirls, and bounds, and sinks and rises. 

 Makes figures of all sorts and sizes. 

 Flies nine times round the hall, before 

 He condescends to touch the floor, 

 And now and then like lightning springs 

 And borne aloft orxpigeona'' icings^ 

 Cuts capers wonderful and rare 

 Like fairy frolicking in air. 



He waltzes in a style so smart 

 A lady's adamantine heart 

 Will be inevitably melted, 

 Like ore that's in a furnace smelted. 



All these and fifty other capers 

 Not fit to print in public papers. 

 Which put the genteel polish on, 

 And fit a tippy for the ton ; 

 Said Signor SauEAK will teach his scholars. 

 Terms, per quarter, Twenty Dollars. 



(tj" Kola Bene — ladies grown, 

 Said Signior waits upon alone. 

 Teaching graces, arts, and aire. 

 And other delicate affairs ; 

 How to look and act as prettily 

 As belles of England, France or Italy. 



From the Portsmouth Journal. 



GOOD NEIGHBOURHOOD. 



Mr Printer, — There is a sore evil under the 

 smn, which seetns hitherlu to have escaped the 

 notice of your correspondents, but which is said 

 to prevail very extensively in this hospitahle 

 town. \l h ^ Good JVeighbourhood '. Nay, start 

 not, Mr Printer; it is indeed a sore evil, asyou 

 shall presently hear. 



I am an unmarried lady, a little advanced be- 

 yond the period of youth, and in fact approach- 

 i((ig that age in which one does not like to have 

 One's early habits interrupted. My fritMids lliiiik 

 Ike somewUut particular, and — lor the Irutli must 



come out — somewhat old-maidish. Bui I l)ear 

 their raillery with perfect good humour, for I 

 am conscious that what they laugh at, is only a 

 love of neatness and regularity- Having a decent 

 competence, and no near relations with h hoin 

 1 could reside, 1 lately purchased a small house 

 in the midst of a very good neighbourhood, and 

 last week I commenced house-keeping with high 

 hopes ofcontifort and enjoyment. But alas! sir, 

 one short week ha? clouded the prospect ; and 

 unless I (?an sell my house and escape, 1 shall 

 die of a good neighbourhood before Thanksgiv- 

 ing. 



I had just got over the bustle of removing, &. 

 was quietly seated in ray little parlour with my 

 knitting work in my hands and the last Literary 

 Gazette spread before me on the table, when the 

 door burst open, and a whole troop of live little 

 urchins rushed in, all clamorous at once to tell 

 me that their Mama, Mrs Pryabout, would have 

 the pleasure of taking tea with me, & sjtending 

 the evening in a neighbourly way. i am of a 

 social disposition, Mr Prmter, and though an old 

 maid, am ple:ispd with well-behaved chiliiren. 

 I therefore told Ihem wilh a smile, that 1 should 

 be verv happy to see their Mamma — and that 

 on some leisure dav, I should be very happy to 

 see them loo. But here I found I was anticipat- 

 ed. " Mamma told us that if you were alone, 

 we might stay an hour or two, as she was very 

 busy this afternoon, and meant to live with you 

 in a neighbourly way." Though somewhat start- 

 led at this, I submitted with a good grace, laid 

 aside my knitting and pa[ier, and gave up the 

 afternoon to my little neighbours. — What profi- 

 cients they were in the arts of good neighbour- 

 hood, my furniture and parlour will exhibit for 

 many years. My tatl-s were scratched, my so- 

 fa torn, one of the legs of my arm chair broken, 

 and an ugly hole burnt in my carpet. When 

 their Mother arrived, about six o'clock, she 

 found me busily employed in repairing the 

 damage, and casting her eyes complaccnllv 

 round the room, exclaimed, "1 am afraid, !Mi<s 

 Barbara, the children have been troublesome — 

 but the dear little creatures have such spirits"! 



But this, Mr Printer, uas only the beginniiiar 

 of sorrows. Mrs Pryabout took her tea wiih 

 me, and condescended to make all manner of in- 

 quiries about my domestic establishment, and tn 

 give me all manner of good advice — in a very 

 neighbotirly way. — In the evening, I was favor- 

 ed with the company of Mr Pryabout, Mr^ Fi<lg- 

 etty, and the two Misses Peepinlhedrawers, who 

 all proved themsclvfs to be excellent good 

 neighbours by opening my cupboards, inspect- 

 ing my bed-clothes, and counting my linen. As 

 they were only neighbours, and meant to live 

 without ceremony, they staid late, devoured my 

 cake and fruit, and promised on departing to 

 come again very soon, and make me another 

 neighborly visit. 



I went to bed with a sick hcail-aohe. But as 

 I am an early riser I found myself dressed in the 

 morning before any of m\ kind neighbours were 

 i stirring. I was just coming over the stairs, 

 when a loud rap summoned me to the door. 1 

 found a litlie dirty child shivering in the frosty 

 air. " Mother wants to know, Ma'am, if you 

 will leiiil her your wash-bowl — she is just get- 

 ting up, and wants to wash hei face this tnorn- 

 ing.-' 



And Who is your Mother? I exclaimed with 

 some astonishment. 



O, she lives just here in the neighbourhood. 



And has she no wash bowl ? 



No, Ma'am, when she washes her face, she 

 always borroips. 



Amused with the novelty of the request, 1 

 lent the little urchin the wash-bowl, and exhort- 

 ed her to make use of it herself belore she re- 

 turned it. 



In about five minutes, I was summoned again 

 to the door. " Mother told me to tell you, 

 M^'ani, that you forgot to send her a towel. 

 .'^he never borrows a wash-bowl without a tow- 

 el." 



In some amazement, I handed to her a towel. 

 "Is there any thing else, ray litlie girl, — for 

 your mother seems to be quite neighbourly ?" 

 Yes — no — yes — nothing else at present. — 

 Mother wants to borrow some soap; but she 

 told me to come for that presently--for if 1 

 asked for two things at once you might not be 

 willing to lend them. 



I returned to the parlour, musing upon the 

 blessings of a good neighbourhood, when half 

 a dozen rapid knocks at the door again startled 

 me. The servant came in and said that three 

 or four children at the door were all asking to 

 see me. I hastened to meet them «ilh no lit- 

 tle alarm — "What is it, my children? do you 

 wish to see me ?" 



AU- — Ma'am — Miss Barbara — 



Pntj — Uncle wants to know if you'll — 



L\1t}c Boy. — Mother sent me to ask you to — 



Girl. — Please Ma'am to — 



jUI. — Lend — 



/?'>(/. — him your axe. 



Utile Buy. — her your tub. 



Girl. — sister, your thread-case. 



Man, approachins^. — Can you lend me your 

 wheel-barrow. Ma'am ? 



IVnman just behind him. — I want to borrow 

 yi'iir clothes-line just for half an hour. Ma'am. 



Third Bay. — Fa I her says, if you take the 

 newspaper. Ma'am, he would like to borrow it 

 a little while. 



Before I could answer these multifarious 

 requests, a litlie note writen in a fine llalian 

 hand on a rose-coloured paper and very fantas- 

 tically turned up at Ihe corners, was put into 

 my hands by a little girl with a basket on her 

 arm, who pressed forward with eagerness thro' 

 the crowd. Her silence pleased me ; and I im» 

 mediately opened and read — 



" My dear Miss Catnip will lend me that beautiful 

 lace cap which I saw in her bureau last evening, she 

 will confer an unspeakable favour upon her afitction- 

 ate friend and neighbour. 



HESTER PEEPINTHEDRAWER. 



P. S. — My Sister Catherine would be under infinite 

 obligations to yon, if you would lend her your cinna- 

 mon-coloured calash to make a few calls in, this fore- 

 noon. 



N. B.— George would like to read MrF.verett's Ora- 

 tion which was lying on your table yesterday, but I 

 tell him he must call this forenoon and borrow it him- 

 self. 



2d P. S. — Mamma will thank you for the loau of a 

 couple dozen of eggs." 



Another knock ! — I will run to Ihe window to 

 reconnoitre — As 1 live, there are three children 

 at the door wilh baskets, a boy with a wheel- 

 barrow, a woman with a band-box, and five tin 

 kettles coming towards the house ! My patience 

 is exhausted. 



Mr. Pnnler, ailverlise my bouse for sale, at 

 auction, next Miiwlay. I will take lodgings in 

 the country — or go to the ShoaU— this very 

 day. BAKBAIU CATNIP. 



