v_ o
g__., _,. .,.|__... , > - . . .-.- 1%
.-. __
ta
mtom "Tm-: I-‘rmzmz'.rN' ciazmrri-1.
IMPRt)MP1‘U. .
022 hearing Mr. Keene sing “ F-r.3eclozn’.v Jubilee,”
Air, Scots who ha,’ J1-c.
Son of" the Isle, wnose bosom green
Above old ocean towers ;
Son of the Isle of skies serene,
And Erlcu-blooming bowers.
God bless thy country--God bless z/2ee-- j
Sun, stand thou still, till Erin’s free l
Son of the song of l7rcetlom’s lyre,
Of iVoonwor.'rn’s patriot lay;
Son of the song, that breathes the fire
Of Frecdom’s natal (lay;
Oh, may t/zy country one day see
A \'V.~'l.SH1NGTON—t1 ‘Jubilee l’
Son of the Isle ‘of frientlship, truth,
Of chastity and love ; -
Son of the Isle of beauty, youth,
The eagle or the dove;
God bless her daughters--Gotl bless t/zce-—
Sun, stand thou still, till l3.rin’s free!
BOSTON BARB.
_.....,.._
anon THE INDEPE.\‘DE.\"I‘ BAI.AXCI:.
Silent and firm, I dare to gaze, ,
Upon the lightning and the storm ;
Uri mov’d, can view in (lt-ath‘s cmbracc,
The cruzrbhng wreck of beauty’s form.
'E'ranc:'.til, my soul can contemplttte
On-"life’s brief hour, \iltll0Ul a tear;
. Can mark the withering hand of fate
Bligh: every flower to poesy dear.
But oh, there is a scene so dread,
So freezing to my inmost heart,
That e’en the still‘ and sheclcd dead
Such horror never can imp-.trt..
It is to gaze on one whose son}
My pains and pleasures lov’d to share ;
To gaze and read, as on a scroll.
The wreck of reason‘ written there.
BOSTON BARB.
}1E.1\"RI" W0 on VILZE.
A '1"‘ALE-—-23 Y 3«II"’-S- OPIE.
C 0 NC I. U D E D .
Henry had not dared to look towarrl-; l‘s"*lrs.
Vincent and Anna ; butnow, in an agony which
words would ill endeavor to paint, he turned round
to bid them a last far-ew::ll, and saw the latter" ly-
ing insensible in the arms of her agitated m‘o:l:«"-
er.
He Illt‘.l‘<'.’f4Jl‘€ ("!l~?':iig:.’ig't:(l lsintself from the
men, who were just preparing to handout? him ;
and seizing the hand of the unconscious girl,
pressed it again and again to his lips.
‘ ‘ You had better be out of sight when she re-
vim’, my t".eat' llenry,’ faltstrcd out Mrs. Vin-
cent : ‘so farewell l God bless and ~‘.L1ppr__)rt you 1’
Anna now gave signs of returning life; and
Henry being again seizrd by the impatient men,
who were runners from Abingdon, kissed her
cold hand, and that of her nearly fainting mother,
and disappeared. 4
'When they reachetl the cart, he fottntl fetters
were provided for his legs; and when ironed, he
was stated between the two men. and in that
manner conveyed across the .'.‘"3ev-xrri in the pack-
ct-boat, on the rozed ‘.0 the j-.til"v.'l.ence he had es-
caped, leaving the rnotltcr aml (laughter in astute
of mind more easy to irnztgine than describc.——"-
llut both had some consolation in the conscious-
ness that they had as-xsured him they didnotthink
"him guilty of the crime for which he was now
only too sure to suffer. M
VVI;-en evening came, the poor invalid, its usual,
"was anxitittsly cxprrvzting to see Ilcnry; as he
never lhiled to visit him on 21 l-iuuday evening,
and mad to him the prayers for the day.
But he‘ expected him in vain, and, though
scai'-zely able to sit up, he was on the point of ri-
sing and setting off in search of him, when his
wife, half-intoxicated, and with a countenance of
malicious triumph, entered the hut.
‘Do you see Mr. Granville coming?’ a-sized
the poor man. , _ ’
I Mr. Granville intleetl I’ replied the tcrmagant;
‘ that canting hypocrite, that has mad"-.: such a
whining, praying, chicken-hearted wretch" ofyou l
No.’_:l do not see him coming; and you will
never see’ him again 1’ ‘
‘ Not see him again I \Vhat do you mean ?’
‘I mean that Ihavc got some good out of the
fellow at last; for I found out who he was.-—
V\7hy do you tremble and local: so wildly, before
you know what I have to tell you i’
The wretched man replied not ; and she went
on to say, ‘ Yes-‘—l fotmd out that he must by the
description‘ be that I'1'enry W'ootl"vill:: escaped ,
from Abingdon jail. And so I IS rote a letter to
‘the pri'sou, and they have sent two nren v;ho
have carried h‘im off; and I; shall Have the re-
ward—anr.i he will be l.‘.'t:ngCtl'.
for him l’
‘ Then you have also clorfe for me l’ groaned
out the wretched man. ‘ Gone! taken! carried
back to prison, an-_l‘to be lranged for . . . . l
He liang-ed—-he l--so kind, so generous‘ to . . . 2’
Here he fell back on the pillow llenry had giv-
en him, in wild and inarticti-’latc l)l2'l‘S'tS of sorrow,
while his wife, declaring he was very bad» compa-
ny, left him to solitude and*t"‘o' wo.
As soon as she was gone, he rose and (lr'esseo"
himself, the firm andvirtttotts‘ d'etct'mination of
his mind giving a sort’-of‘ pr'etcrnatttral strength
to his feeble and fevered’ ft‘-ar'n‘e'. He then has-
itened to the ferry as fast as his trembling limbs’
could let him 7‘ and he reached it just as the sec-
ond passage boat was going. off ; h_e entered it,
and was soon landed on the opposite side. j
But how was he to- pursue his journey ? And‘
while deliberating on what he had best to do; a
cart drawn. by a swift horse passctlhim, and the
' driver seeing._his sickly appearance, asked him if
he should‘ give him a ride. The poor wretch
gladly _2_tccep"tctl it, and soon "found" himself some
miles" beyond Bristol antler. his road? to Abi'ng'-
\ .
Q
Yes--I have done ,
don ; but as he went along he talked so strange-
ly, accusing himself in so forcible a manner ofa
terrible crime, that the driver,_th_inking he was
mad,‘ madea pretence to get him out of the cart,
and left him in the road. _
This really brought on the delirium which
was only in appearance before ; and he was taken
up on the road raving and exhausted, and carried
to an inn near the,place where he was found.
There, when he came a littleto himself, he be-
seeched for mercy’s sake they would send after-
Henry VVoodville, and the men who were con-
veying him to prison, declaring that he himself
committed the murder‘ for which he wasto" suf-
fe ' :-—and having exhaitsted himself in uttering
this declaration (which the b_v-st'andcr‘s attributed
to delirium, and forced him to take a composing
d ‘taught to assuage the phrensy,) he sank dot-.'n"
exhausted, and fell into a sleep which lasted
some hours. _
\'v’hcn he awoke,~..,tnd he awoke quite calm
and collected.-—be asked if they had sent after
Henry VVoodville and his jail rs, as be had:
them.
so, (because they fancied he only‘.-spoke in deliri-
"um,) he jumped off the bed on which they harl
laid him, in an agony of mind which it was ter-
rible to witness ; and rushing down stairs. conju-
red somr: one for the love of God to set off i;'r:3t-
antly for Abingdon.
At the door stood a gentleman’s carriage, and
the gentleman to whom it belonged ; and he was
at that moment giving orders to have four post
horses put-to directly, as he was on his road to
London: and he heard the waiter say, ‘Four
horses immediately for the high-sheriff of Berk-
shire.’
Everett (for it vas he as my readers have long
discovered) looked earnestly in Mr. Irwin's fact:
as be turned round ; and emboldened by the look
of l)t.‘.l‘lt':V'<Jl€l]l pity with which the gentleman sur-
VL‘yc'tl him, be seized his arm, and begged to
speak to him alone. '
lle ittstantly complied with thercquest; when
Everett, falling on his knees, as soon the door
was closed, exclaimed»-‘ You see before you a
murderer! and an innocent man will suH"er for
my crime, unless I get to";\bingdon in time to
prevent it 3 for mercy’s sake. then, let me go on
the top of your carriage ; and give me the mean~
to get on as fast as po.5sil)le l 0 grant the prayer
of a pcnitent sinner, and let not an angel as he is,
die for such a devil as I am 1’ ‘
" The look. the tone, the manner of the pleatlcr
borc such strong testimony or" the truth of what
he asserted, that Mr. Irwin hesitated not a mo-
ment what conduct topursue :-——and lucky was
it that be address:-d himself to a man who never
saw misery but he was impatient to relieve it,
nor wrong that he was not eager to redress.
In a few minutes, therefore, Mr. Irwin was; in
his C-hat‘|_nt, with Everottby his side his bad
the precaution (believing tl1L‘.t the wretcht-«'3 crim-
inal had a very short time to live) to i.‘.l;;<': with
him pen and pencil in the carriage; and as tbej;
\v'eltf along, he took down Evcrett’s cl-c-p«:.-satin-it.
tnterlardcd as it was with expressions of grtttelui
aff.-ction for Henry; who little thou_<_:ht that tvhllc
he was trying to sooth the misery of a distressed
fellow Ct‘C6:!l.Ul‘C, he was befriending the mac. who
had most injured him, and was thercby'prepating
the way for his own restoration to 1'cpntation, if
not to life. ‘
I need not say that Mr. Irwin resolved to car-.-_v
Everett the whole way to Abinjgdon, nor that by
the time l.°Lvt:rett’s tale was told, he was as much
inter-"estc-.(l for Henry as Everett himself,‘ and as
painfully impatient to reach Abingdon; especial-
ly as the)’ found on inquiry that the runners ‘from
..\bing-don jail and their prisoner had nearly a day
the start of them.
And though they travelled all that night, the
heavy rains which tell the preceding day, togeth-
er with their inability to procure fresh horses
when they most wanted them, delayed them so
rntrch, that "Mr. Irwin was at last forced to seek
for a fleet horse, if such an one could be procur-
»cd, to can ry an order from him to suspend the ex-
ecution till he arrived. But he found theattempt
was vain.
Henry, meanwhile, onjltis arrival at" Abingdon
was lItf0t‘m-:(l that the slteriffofthe town had re-
solved the execution should take ‘place as soon as
possible; for he was a relation and friend of Brad-
ford’s and conse *uentl was eager for the 'un- .
)
islmientof the murderer of hiscousin;
At first Hcnry’s feelings were so obtundcd by
the suddenness of the shockhe had experienced, ?
that he mistook despair for t‘es-i'gtia'tion : but now
that he saw the boo-r of lrisfate rapidly and really
" appt'oaclti7ng', he gave way to a bitterness of wo,
which, till now, was a stranger to ‘aim -,- and fel!
what an increase of misery it was to have to re-
sigrr not only his family, his friends, and his life,
but the object who was become dearer to him‘
than life itself.
‘ And todie without? seeing any one of the ob-
jects most. beloved by me--to die without seeing
1-5-nit once more, andwithout receiving-. one.fare--
well look or word l l’ I
While these regrets were uppermost-,' he resol-
ved to petition for a‘ few days respite. But when
he recollected what his fr-icnclantl his father _l_tad
endured at their last parting, and how l"T.'\J"t.'l‘. An-
na would endure on taking a last farewell of him,
be suppressed all ’id£:a of soliciting so selfish an
indulgence ; and resolved" to write instead of en-
deavoring to speakhis last adieus.
He did so, and had scarcely concluded them,
when he was told that the ordinary .waitt:d with-
out ; and that, as the r..t.a mom'»:nt was arrived,
he must prepare for immediate execution.
The high sheriff meanwhile and his nearly ex-
hausted co'mpanion_ were with jaded horses (no
"others "having bet:n"to’=l5e p’r'oc-ux ed) making their
way tow‘ar,ds Abingdon, through a sleepless and
anxious night. At" l'e.r'tgth however, in the morn-
ing, as*th‘e clock struck nine, they drove into the
town, andsaw a‘crowd- assembled?" before the gate
of the prison. . j
if)‘ merciful fathenl grant that we are not too
late !’ cried Mr. Irwin ; whi-le the parched‘ tongue
of Everett" cleaved to the roof of his mouth.
And on hearing that 1 ey had not done’
.-day that united therrr, united also Henry VV,ood-
‘E1-'§T2tA'0RD1NARY case or APPARENT n‘EA'r'r"I.
: life.
-room in which‘ she died, was laid in a coffin, and
The next moment, however, they.saw the‘ exe-
cutionerjust preparing to do his office, and,Hen-
ry calmly submitting to it. . '
‘ Stop, stop I’ cried Mr. Irwin, waving his hand-..
kcrchief from the window, but not yet near e-""
nough to be heard ; and I:‘.verett as vainly shook
his cinaciatetl hand out on the other side.
But at length“"the high-sheriff’s livery was seen
and his carriage recognized ; and while be con-
tinued to wave his lr.-tndkerchief, and the horses
to advance, the crowd hailed it as a signal of'~de-
liverance to the interesting prisoner ; and ‘ z"f:t7e-
prieve l—a reprieve l--the high-sheriff I.-—l-the
high-sherifl'l’ sounded through the throng. "
In :1 moment they made way for the horses,
and the carriage stopped by the cart.
In one moment more the lootrnan had. let
down the step ; and supporting Everett under
the arm, Mr. Irwin ascended the scafibld with
him. '
W.
- " fa‘ '-
and not in it at the same timef It was equally
impossible for her to stretch out her. "arm or to
open her eyes, as to cry,.although she continually "
endeavored to do so." The internal anguish of
her mind was at its utmost height, when the fu- 9)”
neral hymns began to be sung, and W hen the lid
of the coflin was about to: be nailed on. The
thought that shewas to be buried alive was the
first which gave activity to"her mind, and enabled
it to operate on her corporal frame.” '
From the Coo/zc1-stow2g?_l1’atclz-Tower, Sefit. l6.
/lrzat/zrr sler/ting Preac/zer.-‘--'l‘here. is now liv-
ing with Mr. Amos Thomas, in the t"own of Exe.
ter, a young man about 20‘-years of age," named
Jose/z/z Ball, who, like the celebrated Rachel Ba-
ker, preaches, prays, exhorts, &c.. in his sleep, or
in a parficular state of the system, and 3llS\'.'(t1‘$
questions to jalluwho call to see him.‘ As he is a
youn§"-rrnan not versed in public speaking, and of
As soonas Henry saw Everett", who stretched flédhraaé‘ abilities, this is the more surpri~.-ingr. -
out his arms imploringly to him, he came for-
ward, tottering and fcttered as he-._was, to meet
him. "
‘ I....I murdered Bradford l--I am the real
murderer l’ he exclaimed, turning to the crowd,
then falling at flenry’s feet, he tried to clasp his
powerless arms round him, and murmuring out
‘ .§3cst of nien, forgive me l’ fell senseless on the
ground.
Henry, overcome with a variety of emotions,
was unable to assist him, and for a moment lost
all consciousness himself. He however soon re-
covcrc-d to thankfulness and joy-. But no appli-
cation could restore the guilty but penitent Ev-
crett ; and they soon found that he was gone for-
ever.
‘ Thank God I’ cried Henry, as be bent mou-rn-
fully over him; ‘ he died while performing ajust
and virtuous action; and may it be deemed an
acceptable service 1’
There is no power that can in a moment of
strong excitement control a multitude ; even the
dread of personal danger is often found, at first,
insufficient .
. It was the case now. Mr. Irwin, having come
in front of the scaffold, desired to read aloud the
deposition of Everett. ‘ "
Ilc did so-—not omitting the unhappy man’s
attributing his resolution to sacrifice himself to
save lIenry’s life, to his deep sense of the grati.
tude he owed him,
And W hen he had concluded, the air, after a
short pause as it seemed of strong emotion, rung
with sho-rts and loud tokens of applause and joy.
Everything needful having been gone through,
Mr. Irwin led Henry to his carriage ; in which
they were both no sooner seated, than the horses
were off in a moment ; and the carriage and its
agitated inmates’ were dragged in triumph to the
principal inn in the town. Nordicl that express-
ion of their feelings content them, but they insist-
ed on Henry’s showing himself to them at the
\'./ir»(lm'.= of the llln. ~_ ,_ ,' _
VVhile he was thus indulging fbcir "feelings at
th::';:xpen_se ofhis own‘, and Mr. Irwin was throw-
ing money amongst them, meaning to disperse
them, but in reality making them tnore clamor-
ous, a post-chaise drove up to the door, and a la-
dy looked out of the window. At sight of Henry
(pale,but evidently happy, bowing to the applaud-
ing multitude) she uttered a faint shriek, and
withdrew her head. But Henry had recognised
her,‘ and in a moment was at the door of the car-
t-iage, and had borne the speechless" but still un-
consciously happy Anna into the house, followed
by hertrembling but as happy mother; for the
appearance of things explained itselti andj_H__cn-, ‘3l9l’l‘"‘-
9?
ry, if at liberty and hailed by the niultit°ude§- _
have been not only innocent but proved so be-‘
yond a doubt. I
Vt/’hy need I longer prolong my narrative? Suf-
fice, that Henry's happiness, like a snow-ball, in-
creased as it went: for while hastening with An-
no. and her mother, as fast as four horses cduld
carry thenr, on the road to London, they met
Mr. VVoodville and Mr.‘Cqj.irtna.y on the way to
Abingdon. And the now happy father pressed
with pious thankfulness to his heart the son that
was lost. and was now restored again.
-Of this meeting, Mr. Irwin, who had followed
the party in his carri‘age,was a delighted and sym-
pathizing sp:-.ctator ; and when he parted from "
e is rent from Rachel Baker-‘in one respect,
viz. he does not preach or exhort "every r.i_c-ht,
but gives particular appointments, and is puncfuzgt
to them-—sotnetimes two nights-‘in succession,
and at others, one in three or four nights.
As I consider this case similar to llacluel Ba-
ker’s, which I think the ft-rculty called a u .su,'7znz'.
am, my inducement to publish fhis is principally
to awaken the curiosity of some of the profession
to visit him. _Perhaps he may be cured. I have
x
I
understood that Dr. VVailloughb"y effected the cure ' ‘l
of Miss Baker after Dr. Mitchill and others had
failed. - .
I’. S. Iyhad forgotten to mention, that Mr. Ball
at intervals in his exercises, heave-s a deep sigh,
and 15 strangely affected in,jthe'nerves. 2-’
T‘ V -.
[A writer in the London Monthly Magazine of
June last, quotes the following facts in illustra-
tion of the manner in which Providence has
contrived a supply for the thirst ‘of man in sul-
try places. :] j " _ -'
‘ Nature ltasgplaced amidst the burning sands
of Africa, a plant, whose leaf, twisted ronndlike
a crue "is always filled with a large giaggg fun of
water ;-the gullct of this crust is shutiby the ex-
tremity of the leaf itself, so as tof.p,re.ve"nt the wa.
ter from evaporatiing. She lra"s"planted on
parched districts ofthe same countr_v,a great tree,
called the negroes Boa, the trunk of which of a
prodigious bulk, is naturally hollowed like a cist-
ern. In the rainy season it l'eceivt:s_.its- fillofwa-
ter, which continues fresh and cool inthe greatest
heats by means of the tufted foliage wliich crow os
its summit. Finally, she has placed‘ végetttblgx
fountains on parched rocks of the Alltjilltzs ; there
is commonly found there a tree cal-led the ‘Nat-er
Lianne, so fttll of sap, that if you cut a single
branch of it, as much water is immediately'Elis-
charged as a man can drink at a draught : it is
perfectly pure and limpid. " _ .
‘ In the swamps ofthc Bay ofCan1pt=s.c«‘)y, trav-
ellers find rclie.:' pfanct-iter kind. 'l'i\ose,ewcrnps,"
on the love. with the sea, are almost entirely in-’
undated in the rainy season, and bec_o"riie"*so parch-
.4"
5
ed on the return ofdry weathé:r, that many hunts- ‘_'" ,
men, who had missed their way in I'll!-‘.5 forests,.
with which they are covert-tl, actually perish with
thirst. The celebrated traveller‘ Dltmpier, re-
lates, that be several times escaped this calamity
by mca pf a very extraordinary species of veg»
ctation which had been pointed out to ram on the
trunk of a’ kind of pine tree, very common tl3~:t‘e ;
it resembles a packet oi" lcavcs piled on: over an-
other in tiers ; and on account of it:-. l'or_rn, and
the tree on which it it grows, he Cltlirz it fsepine
This apple is full of w;_'.t:‘r, so that, on
-piercirtg it__ at the basis with a l;nif—.:, there imme-
"diaiely flows ‘from it".-‘a good pint of very clear
and wholesome water. Father‘ du Tc:-re informs‘
us, that he has several times found 2": similar re-
freshment in the leaves rounded like a r:ar‘0net-.
of a species of plant, which grows on the sandy
plains of Gaudaloupe. I have been assured that
nothing was more proper for the r‘p‘"retichitrg_ of
thirst, than the leaves of the mislctce, that grows
on rnari)*§,;,ir'ees.’ ,
Stfdh the precautions €lTl]‘;l9j’_C(l by Provi-
dence for compensating in l"a\'ot' of man, the in-‘
conveniences of shch climates. ‘
, 5 I '
./I good sz'mz"lz':udc', on 5/1.: u7zrer:.r9"fa6lcr‘ze.s.v Q/‘In-‘
this group of happy beings, it was with mutual ./W511"/E/--T0 "‘-‘ltfct the G0SP€l bU"C3“**€ ball mm
promises to meet again. - — -
Nor was the consequence of I-Ienry’"s c eared
i-eputatiilit, and restoration to his family, produc-
tive of the‘ highest happinessin life to himself and
Anna alone. Mr. Harcourt, the father of his
sister's lover, now gave a glad consent to the un-
ion of Elizabeth VVoodville to his son ;--andthe
ville to Anna’~V‘inc'cnt.
-.__—-an‘ ®-::t-"q9‘a=n-—-j ‘ "
From Dr. Crichton on mental dcrangeinenr.
A young lady, an attendant on the princess of
****l‘‘, after having been confined to her bed for a
great length of time, with a violent n“crvo.usVdts_-
order, was at last, to all appearance, deprived of
Her lips were quite pale, her face resem-
bled the countenance of a dead person, and her
body grew cold, She was removed from the
the day of her funeral was fixed on. The day ar-
rived, and, according to the custom of the coun-
try, funeral songs and hymns were sung before
the door. Just as the people were about to Hall
on the lid of the cofiin, a kind of perspiration was’
observed on the surface of her body. She recov-
ered l’ The following is the account she gave Of .
her sensations :—-she said, “it seemed to her as
ifin a dream, that she was really deail; Y!‘-t She
was perfectly conscious of all‘that lrappcned a-
round her. She distinctly heard her friends
speaking and,la_metifing her death at the; side of
her coffin. She felt them pull on the dead cloths,
and lgy her in it. This feeling produced a men-
tal anxiety which she could not describe. She
-tried to cry out, but her mind was without power,
and could not act‘ on her body. She had the con-
tradictory feeling. as if she were in her own body
deform it, and bigotted men look hour on others,
and curse them because they do not agree, in ev-
ery tittlc, with tltemsclvcs, tlispluys the same fol-
ly as if a person should cut down 1a tree, bearing
abundant of delicious fruit, and furnishing a re‘-
freshing shade, because cattei-pi’1la"rs di'sfrg;urc the
leaves, and spiders tnake their W/i:l)S among the
l)l‘£ll]Cl1CS‘;¢'é‘ .. K « ‘ -
... .._
The best dowry to advance the’ marriage of a
young lady, is mz'lt!nc.s-s in her cointtetnaticc, ais-
dom in her speech, I)2GdL‘S_1y‘§l licrbeliariout‘, and
virtue in her life.’
,
3, ./1 Him to Y’attler.s'.~——‘vVltct"l‘.cr an (;j);:-l‘t:tl)l'lOt,:‘.3
tale be true or false, it can never be lro:mrable or
justifiable to circulate a story, -the j)tll)llClt}’ of
which may injure anothcrs r_cpt1t:.ti«.-n, or It‘-i‘:fCl
his return to virtue. ’ ‘-
Prz'ntcr’s Toasl.-—-The following notable i!)I'.'.~‘?."
was drank on the 14th M-arch,’ 1815, by the Al-
bany Typographical Society. The W0I<'»‘~' in .l~!e-.l--
ice are technical terms used in the er: of printing :'
‘ The ever memorable l ltb of Sept. 1814 ; on
which day Com. h’IcDouough d.".s-.’rib'uz‘¢: /25.9 (2nlz'.‘t
from the mouth of .dnze;*écarz camzc-22, unloc/rid the
enemy’s_for7ns, and broke (/zz-m into jri ; «zact a'o=zv‘n
their royal .9/2:-ets in troughs filled with the watersj_ _
of Lake Champlaip; split the ma/cc-u/2-ga!lz'cs,
and turned their journcymcn out Qfc cc.’
A small .tllz'sta.vl'c-.-—‘ This way, this “'”"a sit‘,
she lives at the hand of the yard,’ salt. . UUY to a
dirty b,e_-ah’, who was sautiteting along with a half
dozendirty cravats tied round his neck ; actually
supposing, that being ashamed to carry a-bundlc,e
the poor beau had taken this l"Tl(‘ll10Ll of convey-
ing his clothes to the washerwoman.
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Norwalk Chronicler