The Folly of War.—A few days since a farmer in the town of Jefferson, heard loud talking and angry words bandied about among his dunghill fowls, and being a man of a pacific disposition, no ways inclined to countenance family quarrels, and withal being a little curious to know the cause of the disturbance, and who was in the right, and who was in the wrong, with divers other causes him thereunto moving, he leisurely bent his course towards the scene of cackling and confusion, aforesaid, which, as is recorded in the case of Bullum vs. Boatum, was “very natural for a man so to do.” Arrived in the vicinity of the disturbance above particularly referred to, he observed his dunghill cock, who is a great pugilist, and in the enjoyment of all his physical strength, engaged in mortal combat with a striped snake of about eighteen or twenty inches in length, the cock to all appearance having the decided advantage over his more wily, though less nervous adversary, dealing his blows in quick succession, employing alternately his bill and spurs with true pugilistic skill and science. But the cunning serpent, well aware that the victory must declare against him by fair combat, brought into requisition a portion of that innate cunning for which that reptile has been celebrated from the beginning of the world to the present time; and seizing his antagonist by the thigh, in the rear, he completely secured himself from any further danger from him. Thus situated, the cock very naturally thought his only “safety was in flight,” he accordingly “cleaved the air majestically with his wings,” the snake keeping fast the hold, and dangling like a taglock, underneath, until the cock, overcome by fatigue, alighted on a neighboring apple tree. The snake immediately coiled his tail around a branch of the tree—the cock again attempted flight, but he could scarcely clear the limb, from which he hung with his head downwards, making every effort to escape, but all in vain, until the farmer came to his assistance—killed the snake and set him at liberty.
Wager Lost.—In the year 1765, a waterman having laid a wager that he and his dog would both leap from the centre arch of Westminster bridge, and land at Lambeth within a minute of each other; he jumped off first and the dog immediately followed, but not being in the secret, and fearing that his master would be drowned, he laid hold of him by the neck and dragged him on shore, to the great diversion of the spectators.
Anecdote of a Cat.—Sometime ago a respectable lady from Glasgow, having been on a visit at the house of a friend in Edinburgh, fancied a beautiful cat of the Muscovy species, which graced the fireside of the hostess. The latter, being pressingly solicited, at length consented to present her visiter with the animal, and puss was accordingly enclosed in a basket, and transported along with her new proprietrix in the inside of a carriage to the city of Glasgow. For seven or eight weeks after the animal’s arrival at her new residence, she was watched, lest, not being reconciled to the change, she should make her escape.
At the termination of that time, she littered two kittens; and this circumstance was considered a sufficient guarantee for her remaining, for some weeks at least, in her new house. Some days afterwards, however, puss with both her kittens disappeared, and no traces could be obtained of the place to which she had been removed, until about eight days from the time of her disappearance from her Glasgow residence, when her well-known mew was recognized by her former mistress at the door of her drawing room. The door was opened; and there was seen poor puss with her brace of kittens—they in excellent condition—but she worn to a skeleton. The distance betwixt Edinburgh and Glasgow is upwards of forty miles; and as the sagacious animal could only carry one of her kittens such a distance at a time, she must, after having placed the one, in someplace of concealment in Edinburgh, have returned to Glasgow for the other—thus travelling altogether upwards of one hundred and twenty miles. There is no doubt but puss chose the darkness and silence of the night as the most eligible season for the performance of her singular journey.
Examination of a School Boy.—The following anecdote illustrates the danger of trusting to memory alone, in the acquisition of knowledge.
“Now, my boy,” said the master, “pray inform me who was the first man in the world?” “Adam,” replied the youth, with quickness.
So far so good; the next attempt was not equally fortunate. “And pray, who was the wisest man in the world?” “Eve,” replied the boy, with a triumphant air; at which all the boys burst into a loud fit of laughter, which the authority of the master calling silence, could not suppress for some minutes.
“You mistook the question, my boy,” said the master; “you imagined, no doubt, that I asked who was the wisest woman in the world; and to that question your answer is very accurate; for, as Eve was the first woman in the world, she must at that time have also been the wisest.”