302 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
[August, 
Anecdote of Cwesaeral Jaclcsoia. 
A widow, who resided in Washington during Jackson’s 
administration, related the following incident to an ac¬ 
quaintance of the writer’s. “ I never knew,” she began, 
“ what it was to have a 
care or a worry about the 
future while my husband 
lived; but he died sud¬ 
denly, leaving me poor, 
with several small chil¬ 
dren. I tried taking 
boarders. Now and then 
a debtor would take 
French leave, and forget 
in his hurry to ask for 
his little bill, and thus 
deprive mo of the prof¬ 
its of a whole year’s la¬ 
bor. One inmate, how¬ 
ever, a very stylish clerk 
in one of the depart¬ 
ments, was kind enough 
to stay until he owed 
me more than five hun¬ 
dred dollars, lie wore 
the finest of broadcloth, 
and the most expensive 
jewelry, and patronized 
me in such a grand way 
that I rarely had the 
courage to dun him. At 
last, the grocer nearly 
drove me distracted 
about the bill I was ow¬ 
ing him, and 1 went in 
desperation toMr. Jones. 
* Now, really, Mrs.-,’ 
he said, calmly looking 
down upon me with se¬ 
rene pity, ‘you ought to 
know that this isn’t the 
way to treat a gentleman 
of my standing; I—aw 
—fear I shall be under 
the necessity of leaving 
if I am to be annoyed 
about that paltry sum 
again.’ I suppose I was 
a fool, but I dared not 
answer him, and with¬ 
drew, looking as guilty 
as if he had dunned me. 
Now, Jones often boast 
ed at table of his in¬ 
timacy with the Presi¬ 
dent. lie condescended 
to speak highly of him 
as a grand old hero, on 
cordial terms with his 
friend, Mr. Jones. Iu 
my distress I actually 
put on my bonnet and 
went to ask Jackson to 
assist me. I met with 
many rebuffs from por¬ 
ters and servants, but 
my courage never failed 
me, until, to my dismay, 
I found myself in the 
very presence of the 
President of the United 
States; then my affairs 
looked small enough. I 
felt as if I could crawl 
through the keyhole ea¬ 
sier than do such an er¬ 
rand, with that keen look from under Mr. Jackson’s brows 
upon me. He saw my embarrassment and—I don’t know 
how—soon had me telling all my troubles to him as if he 
had been my own son. ‘ Dear me 1’ I exclaimed at last, 
‘ I don’t know how I dared come to you, but Jones pro¬ 
fessed to be on such intimate terms with Your Excellency.’ 
‘ Ah !’ he said, with a twinkle in his eye; ‘ then I think 
I must send him my autograph. Ho will value that 1’ 
and sitting down to his desk he wrote a few scathing 
lines to his friend, Mr. Jones, who wore fine clothes at a 
poor widow’s expense, and commanded him to pay me 
at once, or resign his clerkship, by command of—Andrew 
Jackson, President of the United States of America. Ilis 
autograph, indeed! Why, that Andrew Jackson crossed 
the entire sheet in letters as big and black as a thunder¬ 
cloud. When I went in to pour the tea that night, I gave 
Mr. Jones the note, saying, ‘I called on the President 
to-day, and he feent you this.’ ‘You?’ as if I had been 
the puppy under his feet. Then in his grand way—‘ One 
of his little notes on business, probably.’ But you should 
have seen bis face before he got to that autograph ; be 
tried to look proud and indifferent ho tried to eat his 
supper, but I pitied him. lie stopped after supper, laid 
down what money he had, humbly begged my pardon, 
and in a day or two brought me the whole sum. After 
that, all went well with me. You see, I had these words 
always in my mind—‘Come to me again, Mrs.—; the widow 
and the fatherless shall always find in me a friend.’ I 
can assure you that I prized those parting words more, 
perhaps, than Jones did the President’s autograph." 
E&osi’t Wake tllac Baby. 
We hope every little girl large enough to read the 
Agriculturist , or to understand the pictures, has a doll to 
care for, to dress and undress, to feed, and soothe to 
sleep, to watch over and to love. She will learn by such 
pleasant play to do the same for younger brothers and 
sisters, and in time, perhaps, for her own dear children. 
It seems to be natural to pet something resembling a 
child, for all over the world children have their make-be¬ 
lieve babies. The little Indian girl loves her “ papoose” 
made of bark and moss, as much as you do your china or 
wax doll that has eyes which will move—when you pull 
the wire. This shows that there is something in the soul 
which is not satisfied without caring for the helpless. 
This feeling, like every other, will grow by using it, and 
a child who plays affectionately with its doll is cultiva¬ 
ting a noble faculty. It is cruel to abuse dolls. They 
should be made to mind, but this can be done without 
whipping, pinching, or pulling their ears or hair. You 
will smile, perhaps, at the idea of cruelty to something 
which cannot feel; but 
it is cruel to yourself to 
indulge in cruel feelings, 
and try to hurt anything 
unnecessarily. Bad feel¬ 
ings will grow, and the 
dliild who begins by 
beating a doll will be 
likely to end by practis¬ 
ing cruelty to her baby. 
Filial Love Re¬ 
warded, 
Olaf Bager was a rich 
and noble merchant of 
Denmark, who lent im¬ 
mense sums of money to 
his king, Frederick the 
Second. At one time 
when the king was pay¬ 
ing Bager a visit, he 
praised the taste and 
sweet smell of some pre¬ 
served apricots brought 
upon the supper table. 
“Wait until the dessert,” 
replied Bager, “ I will 
give you some incense 
that will please you far 
better.” After supper a 
dish was brought con¬ 
taining perfumed cedar 
chips, on which was laid 
a mass of papers, which 
the king saw was the 
whole of the bonds he 
had given Bager as se¬ 
curity for the money the 
latter had lent the king, 
and which the king had 
very little hope of pay¬ 
ing, the amount was so 
large. “ Will your Maj¬ 
esty light the pile ? ” 
said Bager, quietly. The 
king did so, and saw his 
enormous debt cancelled 
by the flames. Bager 
was so rich he thought 
he could well afford in 
this way to show his love 
for his sovereign. But 
in after years misfor¬ 
tunes came, and Bager 
was reduced to absolute 
want. In his distress he 
applied to his children 
for help. They could 
have easily kept him in 
comfort, for in his pros¬ 
perous days he had es¬ 
tablished them well in 
business. But they treat¬ 
ed him badly, and were 
anxious to be free from 
him as an unwelcome 
burden. Bager resolved 
to secure their good will 
again, and accordingly 
went out among the 
merchants with whom he had formerly traded, and soon 
succeeded in filling a strong box which he had made for 
the purpose, with enough, as he supposed, to make him 
comfortable. He then let it be known that he should 
present what might remain in the box at his death to 
the one of his children who should treat him best. It 
was surprising to see how attentive they all became; he 
was handsomely supported, and each one strove to show 
him the greatest kindness. Finally, he ended his days 
in peace. Just before his death he called his “dutiful” 
children about him, and declared that all had been so 
kind, he could not decide to whom to leave his box, and 
therefore directed that its contents should be equally di¬ 
vided among them. lie was buried with much display, 
and immediately after the funeral the box of treasure 
was opened, and found to be full of common stones ! This 
was certainly a propor reward for their selfish kindness. 
Child’s Idea. —While recently crossing the ferry, we 
heard a little three-year-old exclaim, as she saw a sail¬ 
boat, “ 0 mamma 1 there’s a boat with a bonnet on 1” 
[COPYRIGHT SECURED.] 
DON’T WAKE THE BABY .— Dr •awn and Engravedfor the American Agriculturist. 
