AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
27 
but not seen, and prompts the play—the words, 
the grimace. WI»at music it is! from the opera, 
the lewdest and the wildest, and from the 
Catholic Judgment Hymn, mingled together in 
the same confusion, which behind the scenes her 
toilet table brings to view, where you also find 
‘ puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billetdoux.’ 
Now the audience is tired of her, and laughs at 
the hollow voice, the bleary eye, the spindle 
limbs. The curtain falls; the farce is at an end. 
Poor old butterfly! Death and vanity carry her 
between them to fitting burial and the Mercy 
Seat of the Infinite God.” 
This is a most truthful picture of the class 
whom it describes; and, sad though it be, I am 
compelled to say it has its counterpart here in 
more than one instance. In the little world of 
five hundred boarders, temporarily inhabiting 
this spacious hotel, it would be strange if there 
were not some such characters; and the looker- 
on here will see as many cliques, coteries, in¬ 
trigues, and rivalries as at the court of Louis 
X1Y. 
Mas. Partington’s Four-Fathers. —“ Why 
do folks make such a to-do about their four- 
fathers?” said Mrs. Partington to the school¬ 
master who was asking her genealogy. She 
stopped rolling out the crust for a pie as she 
spoke, and, with her hands still upon the roll¬ 
ing pin, she looked at him over her left shoulder. 
“ Why should folks try so hard to find out 
about their four-fathers, when it’s full as much 
as many want to do to find out that they have 
had one?” The schoolmaster explained that 
people were looking more to pedigree than for¬ 
merly. “ Looking more for fiddle-de-dee !” ex¬ 
claimed the old lady, giving the pin a vigorous 
and emphatic roll as she spoke. “ What makes 
the difference how folks get here, so long as 
they are here ? Why am I any better, now, 
because my great grandfather was one of the 
Juggernauts that left France on account of their 
religious notions?” Here was a mine opened 
for the genealogist. He never once dreamed 
that the antiquated dame before him could have 
had a grandfather, much less that she should 
have descended from the Huguenots. “Are you, 
indeed, a scion of that illustrious stock,” said 
he, delightedly, “ whose sufferings and fidelity 
to their profession are monuments to their me¬ 
mory ?” “ He did suffer terribly, poor man,” 
replied she, “ towards the last of it, with neuro¬ 
logy in his head, and, as you say, was faithful 
to his profession, for a more honest tinker never 
soddered a tea-pot.” The schoolmaster was 
floored by a simplicity that looked not to ances¬ 
try for glory, depending upon its own intrinsic 
excellence for reputation. And who would not 
in the days to come, rather be that estimable 
woman standing there in time’s expanse, hold¬ 
ing that rolling-pin than the grimest Huguenot 
of ’em all? That pie beneath her hand become 
food for gods—that' rolling-pin a golden scep¬ 
tre.— Boston Post. 
-»-»-•- 
“A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL.” 
It seems to be generally admitted that “ Jor¬ 
dan is a hard road.” Jim Sherwood tells of .one 
that, if not the veritable “Jordan” itself, must 
certainly be its “next best friend.” But let 
Sher. speak for himself. 
Time, towards evening—Place, Forks of the 
Road, somewhere in North Carolina—Log cabin 
close by—Red-headed boy sitting on the fence 
whistling “ Jordan.” Enter traveler on an old 
gray mare, both looking pretty well beat “out.” 
Traveled.—“ Say, boy, which of these road^ 
goes to Milton ?” 
Stuttering Bob.—“ B-b-both on ’em goes 
thar.” 
Trav.—“ Well, which is the quickest way ?” 
Boy.—“ B-b-bout alike ; b-b-both on’em gets 
there b-b-bout the same t-t-time o’ day.” 
Trav.—“ How far is it?” 
Boy.—“’Bout four m-m-miles.” 
Trav.—“ Which is the best road?” 
Boy. —T-t-they ain’t nary one the b-best. If 
you take the right hand road and go about a 
m-mile, you’ll wish you was somewhere else; 
and if you t-t-turn back and take the 1-1-left 
hand one, by the time you have g-g-gone half a 
m-m-mile, you’ll wish you had kept on the other 
r-r-road! G’lang!”— Exchange. 
-- 
A Frenchman who knew very little English 
got into a difficulty with an Englishman who 
insisted upon fighting it out. The Frenchman 
agreed to this, but wished to know what he 
should say if he should get beaten. Being told 
that he must cry out “ enough,” they set to. 
The Frenchman, however, forgot the word, and 
cried out, as he heard some of the bystanders 
do, “ Hurrah! hurrah !” To his astonishment, 
the Englishman pounded all the harder. This 
caused Monsieur to go to work in such good 
earnest, that the Englishman soon cried out 
“ enough! ” “ Say dat again,” said the French¬ 
man. “ Enough, enough!” cried he again. 
The Frenchman in turn exclaiming, “ Dat is de 
ver vord I vas trying to say long time ago !” 
The best anecdote of Lorenzo Dow that we 
have seen is, that being one evening at a hotel 
kept by one Bush, in Delhi, N. Y., the residence 
of the late Gen. Root, he was importuned by 
the latter gentleman, in the presence of the 
landlord, to describe heaven. “ You say a good 
deal about heaven, sir,” said the General, “ pray 
tell us how it looks.” Lorenzo turned his 
grave face and long waving beard toward the 
General and Mr. Bush, and replied with imper¬ 
turbable gravity. “ Heaven, my friends, is a 
vast extent of smooth rich territory. There is 
not a root nor hush in it, and there never will 
be.” 
-- 
The Momentous Question. —Well, Charlotte, 
now you have decided on the brocade, what 
lace do you mean to trim it with ? 
Why Amelia, I really don’t know, what do 
you think ? 
Oh, Charlotte dear, how should I tell ? What 
do you say to “ point?” I saw some in Broad¬ 
way, to-day, at $20 the yard ? 
That’s just the thing. Let’s see—takes 20 
yards, don’t it ? 
Yes, love; and if you have any thing over, 
you can give it to me; if there’s any thing I 
admire it’s point lace. George says it is extra¬ 
vagant, but I see no fun in stinting one’s self; 
do you, my dear! 
-»»•- 
EPIGRAM. 
When Eve brought wo to all mankind 
Old Adam called her woman ,— 
But when she woo'd with love so kind, 
He then pronounced it woorrian ,— 
But now with folly and with pride, 
Their husband’s pockets trimming, 
The ladies are so full of whims , 
The people call them whimen. 
Railroad Damages. — A railroad accident 
took place awhile ago in this State, upon which 
occasion the attorney of the road visited the 
scene of disaster, to satisfy the claims of the 
injured parties. After paying for black eyes, 
bloody noses, and cracked crowns all round, at 
the appraisal of the injured, he supposed his 
business over, when he was saluted by a tall 
Yankee, with feet like snow-shoes, a bell-crown¬ 
ed hat, and a blue coat over his arm with— 
“Well, Squire, what are you going to allow 
me ?” 
“ You ?” said the attorney, “ where are you 
hurt ?” 
“ Oh, nowhere to speak of, Squire, but I was 
most terribly scart, and I think that’s worth 
about a dollar, the way you’ve been payin’ on 
em.” 
The “ dollar” came, of course.— Det. lnq. 
Frost. —Quite a smart frost was visible about 
the town of Ravenna (0.) a week ago last Friday 
morning. 
An Answer. —The Rev. Dr. Mason, of New- 
York, passing up Broadway, stopped to read a 
theatrical placard, which attracted his attention. 
Cooper, the tragedian, coming along, said to him, 
“ Good morning, Sir—do ministers of the gos¬ 
pel read such things ?” “ Why not, Sir,” said 
the doctor; “ ministers of the gospel have a 
right to know what the devil is about as well as 
other folks.” 
The Long and the Short of It.— A lady 
passing through New-Hampshire, observed the 
following notice on a board:—“ Horses taken 
into grass. Long tails three shilling and six¬ 
pence ; short tails, two shillings. The lady 
asked the owner of the land the reason for the 
difference of the price. He answered :—“ You 
see, ma’am, the long tails can brush away the 
flies, and the short tails are so tormented by 
them that they can hardly eat at all.” 
Who Ought to Drink Liquors ?—Not the 
rich, for in it there is no refreshment. Not the 
poor, for it injures their purse, their credit, 
their health, their morals, their families. Not 
the merchant, for it will probably render him a 
bankrupt. Not the mechanic, for it will cause 
him to make promises which he cannot keep, 
and so lose his customers. Not the farmer, for 
it will make his cattle lean, his sheep hide¬ 
bound, his barn empty, and fill the windows of 
his house with old hats and old rags. 
- ♦ • • - - 
Loafers. — Different nations have different 
kinds of loafers. The Italian spends his time in 
sleeping—the Turkish loafer in dreaming—the 
Spanish in praying—the French in laughing— 
the English in swearing—the Russian in gamb¬ 
ling—the Hungarian in smoking—the German 
in drinking—and the American in talking poli¬ 
tics. 
A Youth asked his father’s sanction to his 
project of marriage. The old gentleman re¬ 
quested his son to pray with him, and prayed 
that if the match was against the will of the 
Lord, he would throw obstacles in his way, and 
make it impossible. The son interrupting cried: 
“Oh, Lord, don’t you do it; for I must have 
her any how!” 
The Worst Ism. —“Harry,” inquired a friend 
the other day, which do you consider the worst 
of the numerous isms now prevalent?” 
“Abolitionism?” inquired his friend. 
« No.” 
“ Socialism ?” 
“ No.” 
“Nativeism ?” 
“ No, no.” 
“ Then I must give it up,” replied he. “ Ex¬ 
pound.” 
“ Why, Rheumatism 1” 
A “Greene” Pun.— The Boston Post is 
guilty of the following atrocity : Some negroes 
escaped from jail at Mariposa by boring holes 
with an augur. Other prisoners were placed in 
the same room before it was properly repaired, 
and likewise escaped by the nigger augur route. 
- ♦ - 
When we look at a field of wheat, we find 
that the stalks that raise their heads the high¬ 
est are the emptiest. The same is the case with 
men; those who assume the greatest conse¬ 
quence have the least ability. 
We should choose to bear the hatred of evil 
men, rather than deserve their just accusation 
after serving their base ends. — Plutarch. 
