Varieties.
The following ludicrous description of the effects of influenza, is an extract from a letter by the celebrated writer, Charles Lamb.
“Did you ever have a bad cold, with a total irresolution to submit to a water gruel diet? My fingers drag heavily over the paper; I have not a single thing to say to you; I am flatter than a denial or a pancake; duller than a stage when the actors have gone. I am weary of the world and the world is weary of me. I can’t distinguish veal from mutton. I have not volition enough to dot my i’s; my brains are gone out, and did not say when they would come back; I acknowledge life only by an occasional cough. Yet do I try everything I can to cure this obstinate cold, but they only seem to make me worse, instead of better.”
The mahogany tree, which grows in the tropical parts of America, is said to be 200 years in attaining its growth. Its trunk sometimes measures four feet in diameter, and the timber of a single tree is sometimes worth 4 or 5000 dollars, when brought to market.
The following verse in the book of Ezra contains all the letters of the alphabet but one: “And I, even I, Artaxerxes, do make a decree to all the treasurers which are beyond the river, that whatsoever Ezra the priest, the scribe of the law of the God of Heaven shall require of you, it be done speedily.”
An Irish post-boy, having driven a gentleman a great many miles, during torrents of rain, the gentleman said to Patrick, “Are you not very wet, my lad?” “Arrah, I don’t care about being very wet, but, please your honor, I’m very dry!”
The almond tree resembles the peach both in leaves and blossoms; it grows spontaneously only in warm countries, as Spain and Barbary. It flowers early in the spring, and produces fruit in August. Almonds are of two sorts, sweet and bitter. The fruit of both is contained in a hard shell, that is enclosed in a tough sort of cotton skin.
A gentleman, nearly a century old, on hearing that a neighbor of his had died at 85 years of age, remarked that all his family were short-lived!
In Kentucky, a traveller on the other side of the table at a hotel, will address you with, “I say, stranger, give us a leetle sprinkle of that bread, if you please.”
A man seeing an oyster seller pass by, called out, “Hallo! give me a pound of oysters.” “We sell oysters by measure, not by weight,” replied the other. “Well, then give me a yard of them!”
A lady passing through New Hampshire observed the following notice on a board: “Horses taken in to grass; long tails three shillings and sixpence; short tails two shillings.” She asked the owner of the land the difference of the price. He answered, “Why, you see, marm, the long tails can brush away the flies, but the short ones are so tormented by them that they can hardly eat at all.”
Thomas Wilson, who was Bishop of the Isle of Man about a century since, was a particularly benevolent man. To supply the poor with clothing, he kept in constant employment at his own house several tailors and shoemakers. On one occasion, in giving orders to one of his tailors to make him a cloak, he directed that it should be very plain, having simply a button and loop to keep it together. “But, my lord,” said the tailor, “what would become of the poor button-makers, if every one thought in that way? they would be starved outright.” “Do you say so, John?” replied the bishop; “why then button it all over, John.”
Temperance.—Temperance puts wood on the fire, flour in the barrel, meat in the tub, vigor in the body, intelligence in the brain, and spirit in the whole composition of man.
The following anecdote was told by Lord Mansfield, a celebrated English judge. He had turned away his coachman for certain small thefts, and the man begged his lordship to give him a character that he might obtain another place.
“What kind of a character can I give you?” said his lordship.
“Oh, my lord, any character your lordship pleases to give me, I shall most thankfully receive.”
His lordship accordingly sat down and wrote as follows:
“The bearer, John ——, has served me three years in the capacity of coachman. He is an able driver and a sober man. I discharged him because he cheated me. Mansfield.”
John thanked his lordship and went off. A few mornings afterwards, when his lordship was stepping into his coach, a man in a handsome livery made him a low bow. To his surprise, he recognised his late coachman.
“Why, John,” said his lordship, “you seem to have got an excellent place; how could you manage this with the character I gave you?”
“Oh! my lord,” said John, “it was an exceedingly good character; my new master, on reading it, said he observed your lordship recommended me for a good driver and a sober man.” “These,” said he, “are just the qualities I want in a coachman. I observe his lordship adds that he discharged you for cheating him. Hark you, sirrah, I’m a Yorkshireman; I defy you to cheat me.”
When Capt. Clapperton, the African traveller, breakfasted with the Sultan Bautsa, he was treated with a large broiled water rat, and alligators’ eggs both fried and stewed.
Good Measure.—“I don’t know how it is,” said a person who was fond of writing poetry for the public journals, but whose productions had always met with a rejection—“I have written a great deal, but my pieces have never been published.”
“Perhaps,” replied his friend, “there were faults in your effusions that you were not aware of, but which were easily detected by the hawk-eyed editors. The measure might not have been correct.”
“There it is now,” rejoined the disappointed poet; “I can always write the first line well enough; but I am often perplexed about the second. Now, this is poetry, but it don’t seem to jingle to my satisfaction.
‘Tread lightly, stranger, o’er this hallowed dust,
For if you don’t mend your ways—lay like me you must.’”
“Pshaw!” exclaimed the critic, “that’s bad measure.”
“Bad measure! why, man, you’re mistaken, it’s very good measure—it’s more than enough!”
“Boy,” said a gentleman to a lad in the West, “boy, is there any game where you live?” “Yes,” said the lad, “there’s a power of turkies, a heap of squirrels, and a right smart sprinkle of deer.”
A retort.—An old miser, owning a farm, found it impossible one day to do his work without assistance and accordingly offered any man food for performing the requisite labor. A half-starved pauper hearing of the terms, accepted them. Before going into the fields in the morning, the farmer invited his help to breakfast; after finishing the meal, the old skin-flint thought it would be saving time if they should place the dinner upon the breakfast-table. This was readily agreed to by the unsatisfied stranger, and dinner was soon despatched. ‘Suppose now,’ said the frugal farmer, ‘we take supper; it will save time and trouble, you know.’ ‘Just as you like,’ said the eager eater, and at it they went. ‘Now we will go to work,’ said the satisfied and delighted employer. ‘Thank you,’ replied the delighted laborer, ‘I never work after supper!’
An Illustration.—There was once a converted Indian, who, being asked if he believed in the Trinity, said he did. He was then asked his reason. He said he would answer in his Indian way. ‘We go down to the river in winter, and we see it covered with snow; we dig through the snow and we come to ice; we chop through the ice and we come to water;—snow is water, ice is water, and water is water,’ said he; ‘therefore the three are one.’
The Scottish Thistle.—The origin of this national badge is thus handed down by tradition:—When the Danes invaded Scotland, it was deemed unwar-like to attack an enemy in the pitch darkness of night, instead of a pitched battle by day; but on one occasion the invaders resolved to avail themselves of this stratagem; and, in order to prevent their tramp from being heard, they marched bare-footed. They had thus neared the Scottish force unobserved, when a Dane unluckily stepped with his naked foot upon a superbly prickled thistle, and instinctively uttered a cry of pain, which discovered the assailants to the Scots, who ran to their arms, and defeated the foe with a terrible slaughter. The thistle was immediately adopted as the insignia of Scotland.
Osceola.—It is stated that the name of Osceola was given to that famous chief by an old lady in a frontier village, who had newly arrived in the country, and had never seen an Indian. On his approach, she broke forth in utter astonishment—“Oh see! oh la! what a funny looking man!”