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PBinTHD BY JOBS LOVEIL. iit' ijjiiM..yM ii_ mi rmmm ' ■■H=H— — ^ I % ~fc— .^ ■*•» ,_""*^** \ M Silicate this: f olumc XO AN OLD AND TKIED FKIEND: A BABE COMIC AETIST: A GENIAL AND EXCELLENT GENTLEMAN, Mr. BAST. SETCHELL, of Boston. "'•'^ir'w^sr: CONTENTS. I. II. III. IV.- V. VI.. VII.- VIII.- IX.- X.- XI.. XII.- XIII.- XIV.- XV.- I.- II.- III.. IV.- V.- VI.- VII.- VIII.- IX.- X.- XI.- XII.- xm.- XIV.- XV.- XVI.- XVII.- XVIII.- PART I.-MISCELLANEOUS. — A War Meeting '•*'*« —The Draft in Baldinsvillo —Things in New York —In Canada ^ 29 — The Noblo Ked Man '"" ^, —The Serenade ,^^ -A Romance-William Barker, the Young Patriot ........*.*. 25 -A Romance— The Conscript L -A Romance— Only a Mechanic oo _^ iO -Jjoston 29 -A Mormon Romance— Reginald Gloverson 32 -Artemus Ward in Richmond ... o^ da -Artemus Ward to the Prince of Wales 39 -Affairs Round the Village Green -Agriculture ,^ • 47 PART II._TO CALIFORNIA AND BACK. -On the Steamer -The Isthmus -Mexico -California ^ -Washoe ,, „ 63 -Mr. Pepper -Horace Greeley's Ride to Placerville gg -To Reese River „ 69 -Great Salt Lake City ■The Mountain Pever "I am Here" ^^ . 75 ■Bngham Young -A Piece is Spoken The Ball ......Z 81 •Phelphs's Almanac £.„ -Hurrah for the Road g, -Very much Married gg ■The Revelation of Joseph Smith 90 ^tmrnmrnm LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. I.- II.- III.- IV.- V.- VI.- VII.- VIII.- IX.- X.- XI.- XII.- -Artemus Writing his Travels i -Artemus and the Distinguished Artist 9 -An Objeck who Won't go to the War 19 -The Noble Red Man .and Pretty Waiter Girl 23 -Betsey Jane and her Warriors . . on -Reginald on the Die 35 -Hamlet Dying to Slow Music 41 -Artemus Strolling about his Farm 47 -An Angelic California Miner , 55 -Horace Greeley's Memorable Ride 67 -The Boston Man Gets Agitated 75 -The Noble Red Man becomes civilized 87 6|, w— Vi: 1 PART I. MISCELLANEOUS T "k \l r •f , *A' ARTEMUS WARD; HIS TRAVELS Arten,us I. introducca by Ui. daugMor to a di.i„«u.,.ed landscape painter. v.-,.o ha« long ..air and a wi,d L'xprossion in his eye. « ""u a wua PART I. A War MEETIN^r Our complaint just now is war meetin's. They've bin havin' 'em bad in vai-is parts of our cheerful Republic, and nat'rally we caught 'em here in Baldinsville. They broke out all over us. They're better at- tended than the Eclipse was. I remember how people poured into our town last Spring to see the Eclipse. They labored into a impresaon that they couldn't see it to home, and so they came up to our place. I cleared a very haadsome amount of mouAy by eshibitin' the Eclipse to 'em, in an open-top tent But the crowds is bigger now. Posey County is aro"sed. I may say, "ndeed, thit the pra-hay-ories of Injianny is on fire. "i9 10 A WAR MEETING. Our big nieetin' came off the other night, and our old friend of the Bugle was elected •Cheerman. The Bugle- Horn of L iherty is one of Bald- insville's most eminentest institootions. The advertisements are well written, and the deaths and marriages are conducted with signal ability. The editor, Mr. Slinkers, is a polish 'd, skarcastic writer. Folks in these parts will not scon foigit how he used up the Eagle of Freedom, a family journal published at gnootville, near here. The controversy was about a plank road. " The road may be, as our cotemporary says, a humbug ; but our aunt isn't bald-headed, and «)e haven't got a one-eyed sister Sail Wonder if the W. tor of the Eagle of Freedom sees it ?" This used up the Eagle of Freedom feller, because hia aunt's head does present a skinn'd appearance, and his sister Sarah is very much one-eyed. For a genteel home-thrust, Mr. Slinkers has few «kals. He is a man of great pluck likewise. He has a fierce nostril, and I b'lieve upon my .soul, that if it wasn't absolootly necessary for him to remain here and announce in his paper, from week to week, that " our Oov'ment is about to take vig'rous mea- sures to put down the rebellion " — I b'lieve upon my soul, this illustris man would en- list as a Brigadier Gin'ral, and git his Bounty. ^ --. I was fixin' myself up to attend the great war meetin', when my daughter entered with a young man who was evijently from the city, and who wore long hair, and had a wild expression into his eye. In one hand lie carried a port-folio, and his other paw claspt a bunch of small bru.shes. 3Iy daughter introduced him as Mr. Sweibier, the distinguished landscape painter from Philadelphy. " He i. i, artist, papa. Here is one of his master-pieces — a young mother gazin' admirin'ly upon her first-born," and my daughter showed me a really pretty picter, done in ile. "Is it not beautiful, papa? Ha throws so much soul into his work." " Does he ? does he ?" said I—" well, I reckon I'd better hire him to whitewash our fence. It needs it. What will you charge sir," I continued, " to throw some soul into my fence. ' My daughter wtnt out of the room in very short meeter, takin' the artist with her, and from the emphatical manner in which the door slam'd, I concluded she was summut disgusted at my remarks. She closed the door, I may say, in italics. 1 went into the closet and larfed all alone by myself for over half an hour. I larfed so vi'lently tlv4t the preserve jars rattled like a cavalry oflSssfr's sword and things, which it aroused my Betsy, who came and opened the door pretty suddent. She seized me by the few lonely hairs that still linger sadly upon my barefooted hed, and dragged me out of the closet, incidentally obsarving that she din't exactly see why she should be compelled, at her advanced stage of life, to open a assylum for sooperanooated idiots. My wife is one of the best wimm on this continent, altho' she isn't always gentle as a lamb, with mint sauce. No, not always. But to return to the war meetin'. It was lai^ely attended. The Editor of the Bugle arose and got up and said the fact could no longer be disguised that we were involved in a war. " Human gore," said he, is flowin'. All able-bodied men should seize a musket and march to the tented field. I repeat it, sir, to the tented field." A voice — " Why don't you go yourself, you old blowhard ?" " I am identified, young man, with a Ar- kymcdian leaver which moves the world, " said the Editor, wiping his auburn brow with his left coat-tail : " I allude, young man, tc the press. Terms, two dollars a year, invariably in advance. Job printing exe- cuted with neatness and despatch I " And with this brilliant bust of elekance the edi- tor introduced Mr. J. Brutus Hinkins, who ■r - A WAR MEETING. 11 •I r is sufferin' jm an attack of College in a naberin' place. Mr. Hinkins said Wash- ington was not safe. Who can save our national capeotle ? " Dan Setchkij.," I said. " He can do it afternoons. Let him plant his light and airy form onto the Long Bridge, make faces at the hirelin' foe, and they'll sked- addle ! Old Setch can do it." "I call the Napoleon of Showmen," said the Editor of the Bugle—" 1 call that Napoleonic man, whose life is adorned with so many noble virtues, and whose giant mind lights up this warlike scene — I call him to order." I will remark, in this connection, that the editor of the Bugle does my job printing. " You," said Mr. Hinkins, " who live away from the busy haunts of men, do not comprehend the magnitood of the crisis. The busy haunts of men is where people comprehend this crisis. We who live in the busy haunts of men — that is to say, we dwell, as it were, in the busy haunts of men:" " I really trust that the gent'l'man will not fail to say suthin' about the busy haunts of men, before he sits down," said T. '' I claim the right to express my senti. ments here, said Mr. Hinkins, in a slightly indignant tone, '■ and I shall brook no in- terruption, if T am a Softmore." "You couldn't be more soft, my yor.ng friend," I observed, whereupon there was cries of " Order ! order !" " I regret I can't mingle in this strife personally," said the young man. " You might inlist as a liberty-pole," said I in a silvery whisper. " But," he added, " I have a voice, and that voice is for war." The young man then closed his speech with some strikin' and original remarks in lelation to the star- spangled banner. Hd was followed by the village minister, a very worthy man indeed, but whose sermons have a tendency to make people sleep pretty industriously. " I am v/illin' to inlist for one," he said. " What's your weight, parson?" I asked. " A hundred and sixty pounds," he said. " Well, you can inlist as a hundred and sixty pounds of morphine, your dooty bein' to stand in the hospitals arter a battle, and preach while the surgical operations is bein' peribnnrid ! Think how much you'd save the Gov'ment in morphine. He didn't seem to sec it; but he made a good speech, and the editor of the Bugle rose to read the reaolutions, commencin' a.s fol'ers : Resolved, That wo view with anxiety the fact that there is new a war goin' on and i?eso7ferf,'That we believe StonewallJACK- SON sympathizes with the secession move- nient, and that we hope the nine-months men — At this point he was interrupted by the sounds of silvery footsteps on the stairs, and a party of wimin, carryin' guns and led by Betsy Jane, who brandishd a loud and rattliu' umbereller, burst into the room " Here," cried I, " are some nine-months wimen !" " Mrs. Ward," said the editor of the Bugle—" Mrs. Ward, and ladies, what means this extr'ord'n'ary demonstration?" " It means," said that remarkable female, " that you men air makin' fools of your- selves. You air willin' to talk and urge others to go to the wars, but you don't go to the wars yourselves. War meetins is very nice in their way, but they don't keep Stonewall JAf:KSON from comin' over to Maryland and helpin' himseli'to the fattest beef critters. What we want is more cider and less talk We want you able- bodied men to stop speechifying, which don't 'mount to the wiggle of a sick cat's tail, and go to fitin' ; otherwise you can stay to home and take kcer of the children, while we wimin will go to the wars!" "Gentl'men," said I, "that's my wife! Go in, old gal ! ' and I throw'd up my ancient white hat in perfeck rapters. III ; /' 12 A WAR MEETING. "Is this roll-book to bo filled up with the names cf men or wimin' ?" she cried. " With men— with men !" and our quoty was made up that very night. There is a great deal of gas about these war^meetins. A war mtetin', in fact, without gas, would be suthin' like the play of Hamlet with the part of Othello omitted. Still believin' that the Goddess of Lib- erty ip about as well sot up with as any young lady in distress could expect to ha, I am Yours more'n anybody elfae's, A. Ward. V. II. THE DRAFT IN BALDINSVILLE. If I'm drafted I shall resign . Deeply gratuful for the onexpected honor thus confered upon rae, I shall feel compeld to resign the pMition in favor of sum more \ worthy person. Modesty is what ails me. ! That's what's kept me under. ' I meanter-say, I shall hav to resign if j I'm drafted every wheres I've bin inrold. I \ must now, furrinstuns, be inrold in upards of 200 different towns. If I'd kept on ; travelin' I should hav eventooally becum a | Brigade, in which case I could have held a | meetin' and elected myself Brigadeer-ginral j quite unanimiss. I hadn't no idea there | Wis so many of me before. But, serisly, ■ I concluded to stop cxhibitin', and made i tracks for Baldincville. My only daughter threw herself onto my I boosum, and said, " It is me, fayther ! I thank the gods! " She reads the Ledger. " Tip us yer bunch of fives, old faker ! " said Artemus, Jr. He reads the Clipper. My wife was to the sowin' circle. I knew she and the wimin folks was havin' a plea- sant time slanderin' the females of the other sown' circle (wliich likewise met that ar- ternoon, and was doubtless enjoyin' their- selves ekally well in slanderin' the fust- named circle), and I didn't send for her. I alius like to se« people enjoy theirselves. My son OaousTUS was playin' onto a floot. Orgustus is a ethereal cuss. The twins was bildin' cob-houses in a corner of the kitchin'. It'll cost some postage-stamps to raise this fam'ly, and yet it 'ud go hard with the old man to lose any Iamb of the floi^k. An old bachelor is a poor critter. He may have beam the skylark or (what's nearly the same thing) Miss Kellogg and Carlotty Patti sing ; he may have hearn Ole Bull fiddle, and all the Dodworths toot, an' yet he don't know nothin' about music — the real, ginuine thing — the music of the laughter of happy, well-fed children ! And you may ax the father of sich children home to dinner, feelin worry sure there'll be no spoons missin' when he goes away. Sich fathers never drop tin five-cent pieces into the contribution box, nor palm shoe- pegs off onto blind bosses for oats, nor skedaddle to British sile when their coun- try's in danger — nor do anything which is really mean. I don't mean to intimate that the old bachelor is up to little games of this sort — not at all — but I repeat, he's a poor critter. He don't live here; only stays. He ought to 'pologize, on behalf of his parients, for bein' here at all. The happy marrid man dies in good stile at home, sur- rounded by his weeping wife and children. The old bachelor don't die at all — he sort of rots away, like a poUywog's tail. My townsmen were sort o' demoralized. There was a evident desine to ewade the Draft, as I obsarved with sorrer, and patri- tism was below Par — and Mar, too. [A jew desprit.] I hadn't no sooner sot down on the piazzy of the tavoun than I saw six- teen solitary hossmen, ridin' four abreast, wendin' their way up the street. " What's them ? Is it calvary ?" ■IP ! 14 THE DRAFT IN BALDINSVILLE. If I H " That," said the landlord, " is the stage. Sixteen able-bodied citizens has lately bo't the stage line 'tween here and Scotsburg. That's them. They're stage-drivers. Stage- drivers is exempt ! " I saw that each stage-driver carried a letter in his left hand. " The mail is hevy, to-day," said the landlord. " Gin'rally they don't have more'n half a dozen letters 'tween 'em. To- day they've got one apiece ! Bile my lights and liver ! " " And the passengers ? " " There ain't any,' skacely, now-days," said the landlord, " and what few there is, very much prefer to walk, the roads is so rough." " And how ist with you ? " I inquired of the editor of the Bugle-Horn of Libert j, who sot near me. " I can't go," he sed, shakin' his head in a wise way. " Ordinarily I should delight to wade in gore, but uiy bleedin' country bids me stay at home. It is imperatively necessary that I remain here for the purpuss of announcin' from week to week, that our Govmmit is about to take vigorous mea- sures to put down the rebellion .' " I strolled into the village oyster-saloon, ^rhere I found Dr. Schwazey, a leadin' citizen, in a state of mind which showed that he'd bin histin' in more"u his share of pizen. " Hello, old Beeswax," he bellered ; '' How's yer grandmam ? When you goin' to feed your stuifcd animils ? " " What's the matter with the eminent physician ? " I pleasantly inquired. "This," he said; "this is what's the matter. I'm a habitooal drunkard! I'm exempt ! " "Jes'so." " Do you see them beans, old man ? " and he pinted to a plate before him. " Do you see 'em ? " '• I do. They are a cheerful fruit when used tempritly." " Well," said he, " I hain't eat anything since last week. I eat beans now because I eat beans then. I never mix my vittles ! " " It's quite proper you should eat a little suthin' once in a while," I said. " It's a good idee to occasionally instruct the stum- mick that it mustn't depend excloosively on Hcker for its sustainance.". " A blessin'," he cried : " a blessin' on- to the bed of the man what inwented beans. A blessing' onto his bed !" " Which his name is GiLSON ! He's a first family of Bostin," said I. This is a speciment of how things Mms goin' in my place of residence. A few was true blue. The schoolmaster was among 'em. He greeted me warmly. He said I was welkim to those shores. He said I had a massiv mind. It was grati- fyin', he said, to see that great intelleck stalkin' in their midst onct more. I huve before had occasion to notice this schtiol- master. He is evidently a young man of far more than ordinary talents. The schoolmaster proposed we should git up a mass meetin'. The meeting was argely attended. We held it in the o))en air, round a roariu' bonfire. The schoolmaster was the first orator. He's pretty good on the speak. H3 ilso writes well, his composition being seklom marred by ingrammatticisms. He said this inactivity surprised him. '* What do you expect will come of this kind of doiii's ? Nihilfit ' " Hooray for Nihil !" I interrupted. " Fellow-citizens, let's giv three cheers for Nihil^ the man who fit !" The schoolmaster turned a little red, but repeated — " Nihilfit." " Exactly," I said. Nihil ^<. He was- n't a strategy feller." " Our venerable friend," said the schsol- master, smilin' pleasaiktly, " isn't posted in VirgU." " No, I don't knovr him. But if he s a THE DRAFT IN BALDINSVILLE. 15 able-bodied man he must stand his little draft." The schoolmaster wound up in eloquent style, and the subscriber took the stand. I said the crisis had not only cum itself, but it had brought all its relations. It has cum, I said, with a evident intention of makin' us a good long visit. It's goin' to take off its things and stop with us. My wife says so too. This is a good war. For those who like this war, it's just such n kind of war as they like. I'll bet ye. Wy wife says so too. If the Federal army s'lc- ceeds in takin' Washington, and they seem to be advancin' that way pretty often, I shall say it is strategy, and Washington will be safe. And that noble banner, as it were — that banner, as it were — will bo a emblem, or rather, I should say, that noble banner — as it \ e. My wife says so too. [I got a little mixed up here, but they did n't notice it. Keep mum.] Feller citi- zens, it will be a proud day for this Re- public when Washington is safe. My wife says so too. The editor of the Bugle-Uorn of Liberty here arose and said : " I do not wish to interrupt the gentleman, but a important despatch has just bin received at the tele- grapli oflSce here. I will read it. It is as follows : Govment is about to take vigor- ous measures to put down the rebellion !" [Loud applause.] That, said I, is cheering. That's sooth- ing. And Washington will be safe. [Sen- sation.] Philadelphia is safe. Gen. Pat- TKRSON 's in Philadelphia. But my heart bleeds partic'ly for Washington. My wife says so too. There's money enough. No trouble about money. They've got a lot of first- class bank-note engravers at Washington (which place, I regret to say, is by no means safe) who turn out two or three cords of money a day — go'^d money, too. Goes well. These bank-note engravers made good wages. I expect they lay up property. They are full of Union senti- ment. There is considerable Union senti- ment in Virginny, more specially among the honest farmers of the Shenandoah valley. My wife says so too. Then it isn't money we want. But wc do want men, and we must have them. We must carry a whirlwind of fire among the foe. We must crush the ungratclul rebels who are poundin' the Goddess of Liberty over the head with slung-shots, and stabbin' her with stolen knives ! We must lick 'em quick. We must introduce a large number of first-class funerals among the people of the South. Betsy says so too. This war hain't been too well managed. We all know that. What then ? We are all in the same boat — if the boat goes down, we go down with her. Hence we must all fight. It ain't no use to talk now about who caused the war. That's played out. The war is upon us — upon us all — and we must all fight. We can't " reason the matter with the foe." When, in the broad glare ctf the noonday sun, a speckled jack- ass boldly and maliciously kicks over a peanutrstand, do we " reason " with him ? I guess not. And why "reason" with those other Southern people who are tryin' to kick over the Republic ? Betsy, my wife, says so too. The meetin' broke up with enthusiasm. We shan't draft in Baldinsville if we can help it. ^ II III. THINGS IN NEW YORK. The stoodent and connyseer must have noticed and admired in varis parts of the United States of America, large yeller hanhilld, which not only air gems of art in the'.rselves, hut they troothfully sit forth ilic attractions of my show — a show, let me here obsarve, that contains many livin' wild animils, every one of which has got a Beautiful Moral. Them hanbils is sculpt in New York. & I annoolly repair here to git some more on 'um; &, bein' here, I tho't I'd issoo a Address to the public on matters and things. Since last I meyandered these streets, I have bin all over the Pacific Slopes and U ah. I cum back now. wita my virtoo unimpared, but I've got to git sjaie new clothes. Many changes has taken place, even durin' my short absence, & sum on um is Solium to contempulate. The house in Varick street, where I used to Board, is bein' torn down. That house, which was rendered memoriable by my livin' into it, is "parsin' away I parsin' away !" But some of the timbers will be made into canes, which will be sold to my admirers at the low price of one dollar each. Thus is changes goin' on continerly. In the New World it is war — in the Old World Empires is totterin' & Dysentaries is crumblin'. These canes is cheap at a dollar. Sammy Booth, L*uane street, sculps my hanbils, & he's a artist. He studid in Borne — Stat« of New York. I'm here to read the proof-sheets of my hanbils aa fast as they're sculpt. You have to watch these ere printers pretty close, for they're jest as apt to spel a wurd rong as anyhow. But I have time to look round sum & how do I find things ? I return to the Atlantic States after a absence often months, & what State do I find the country in ? Why I don't know what Stat-j I find it in. Suffice it to say, that I do not find it i* the State of New Jersey. I find sum things that is cheerin', par- tic'ly the resolve on the part of the wimin of America to stop wearin' furrin goods. I never medle with my wife's things. She may wear muslin from Greenland's icy mountins, and bombazeen from I'nj'ys coral strand, if she wants to ; but I'm glad to state that that superior woman has peeled off all her furrin clothes and jumpt into fabrics of domestic manufacture. But, says sum folks, if you stop importin' things you stop the revenoo. That's all right. We can stand it if the Revenoo can. On the same principle young men should continer to get drunk on French brandy and to smoke their livers as dry as a corncob with Cuby cigars because 4-sooth if they don't, it will hurt the Revenoo! This talk'bout the Revenoo is of the bosh, boshy. One thing is tol'bly certin — if we don't send gold out of the contry we shall have the consolation of knowing that it is in the country. So I say great credit is doo the wimin for this patriotic move — and to tell the trooth, wimin genrally know what they're 'bout. Of all the blessins they're the soothinist. If there'd never bin any wimin, where would my children be to day ? li m THINGS IN NEW YORK. 17 par- But I hope this move will lead to other moves that air just as much needed, one of which is a general and tlierrer cur- tainmcnt of expenses all round. The fact is we air gettin' ter'bly extravagant, & on- less we paws in our mad career, in less than two years the Goddess of Liberty will be seen dodgin' mto a Pawn Broker's shop with the other gown done up in a bundle, even if she don't have to Spout the gold stars in her head-band. Let us all take hold jintly, and live and dress centsibly, like our forefathers, who know'd moren we do, if they warnt quite so honest! (Suttle goaketh.) There air other cheerin' signs. We don't, for instuns, lack great Generals, and we certinly don't lack brave sojers — but there's one thing I wish we did lack, and that is our present Congress. I venture to say that if you sarch the earth all over with a ten-hoss power mikri- scope, you won't bo able to find such ano- ther pack of poppycock gabblers as the pre- sent Congress of the United States of America. Gentlemen of the Sunit & of the House, you've sot there and draw'd your pay and made summer-complaint speeches long enuff. The country at large, incloodin' the under- sined, is disgusted with you. Why don't you show us a statesman — sumbody who can make a speech that will hit the pop'lar hart right under the Great Public weskit ? Why don't you show us a statesmrn who can rise up to the Emergency, and cave in the Emer- gency's head? Congress, you won't do. Go home, you mizzerable devils — go home ! At a special Congressional 'lection in my district the other day I delib'ritly voted for Henry Clay. I admit that Henry is dead, but inasmuch as we don't seem to have a live statesman in our National Congress, let us by all means have a firstrclass corpse. Them who think that a cane made from the timbers of the house I once boarded in is essenshal to their happiness, should not delay about sendin' the money right on for one. And now, with a genuine hurrar for the wimin who air goin' to abandin furrin goods, and another for the patriotic everywheres, I'll leave public matters and indulge in a little pleasant family gossip. My reported captur by the North Ame- rican savijis of Utah, led my wide circle of frinds and creditors to think that I had bid adoo to earthly things and was a angel playin' on a golden harp. Hents my rival home was oncxpected. It was 11, p. M., when I reached my homestid and knockt a healthy knock on the door thereof. A nightcap thrusted itself out of tho front chamber winder. (It was my Betsy's nightcap.) And a voice said : '•Who is it?" " It is a Man ! " I answered in a gruflF vois. "I don't b'lievc it!" she sed. " Then come down and search me," I replied. Then resumin' my nat'ral voice, I said, ' It is your own A. W., Betsy ! Sweet lady, wake ! Ever of thou ! " "Oh," she said, "it's you, is it ? I thought I smelt something." But the old girl was glad to see me. In the niomin' I found that my family were entertainin a artist from Philadelphy, who was there paintin' seme startlin' water- falls and mountins, and I morin suspected he had a hankerin' for my oldest dauter. " Mr. Skimmerhom, fater," sed my dau- ter. " Glad to sec you, Sir !" I replied in a hospittle vois. " Glad to see you." " He is an artist, father," said my child. " A whichist ?" "An artist. A painter." " And glazier," I askt. " Air you a painter and glazier, sir?" My dauter and wife was mad, but I couldn't help it, I felt in a comikil mood. B ll m THINGS IN NEW YORK. I *' It is a wonder to rae, Sir," said the artist, "considorin what a wide-spread re- putation you have, that some of our Eas- tern managers don't secure you." " It's a wonder to mc," said I to my wife," that somebody don't secure him with a chain." After breakfast I went over to town to see my old friends. The editor of the Bu- ttle greeted me cordyully, and showed me the follerin' article he'd just written about the paper on the other side of the street : " We have recently put up in our oflfioe an entirely new sink, of unique construc- tion — with two holes through which the .soiled water may pass to the new bucket underneath. What will the hell-hounds of The Advertiser say to this? We shall continue to make improvements as fast as our rapidly-increasing business may warrant. Wonder whether a certain editor's wife thinks she can palm off a brass wateh-chain on this community for a gold one?" "That," says the Editor, "hits him whar he lives. That will close him up as bad as it did when I wrote at article ridi- cooling his sister, who's got a cock-eyo." A few days after my return I was shown a young man, who says ee'll be Dam if he goes to the war. He was settin' on a bar- rel, & was indeed a Loathsum objcck. Last Sunday I heard Parson Batkins preach, and the good old man preached well too, tho' his prayer was rather lengthy. The Editor of the Bugle, who was with mc, said that prayer would make fifteen squares, solid nonparil. I don't think of nothin' more to write about. So, " B'leeve me if all those endear- ing young charms," &c., &c. A. Ward. « t \h^ ass watch-chain i one?" )r, "hits him lose him up as at article riJi- a eock-eyo." •n I was shown be Dam if he sttin' on a bar- n objeck. irson Batkins 1 preached well ither lengthy. was with me, ifteen squares, more to write 1 those endoar- A. Ward. < An objcck who says he won't go to the war. See page 18. ly. IN CANADA. I'm at present existin' under a monikal form of Gov'ment. In other words I'm tra- velin' among the crowned beds of Canady. They ai'n't pretty bad people. On the cont'ry, they air exceedin' good people. Troo, they air deprived of manyblessins. They don't enjoy, for instans, the priceless boon of a war. They haven't any Ameri- can Egil to onohain, and they hain't got a Fourth of July to their backs. Altho' this is a monikal form of Gov- ment, I am onable to perceeve moch moni- ky. I tried to git a piece in Toronto, but failed to succeed. Mrs. Victoria, who is Queen of Eng- land, and has all the luxuries of the mar- kets, incloodin' game in its season, don't bother herself much about Canady, but lets her do 'bout as she's mighter. She, how- ever, gin'rally keeps her supplied with a 20 LN CANADA. f ii I If ' W '■ lord, who's called a Gov'ner Gin'ral. 8omo- tlmcs the politicians of Canady mako it lively for this lord — for Canady has politi- cians, and I expect they don't differ from our politicians, some of em beiu' gifted and talented liars, no doubt. The present Gov'ner Gin'ral of Canady is Lord Monck. I saw him review some volunteers at Montreal. Ho was accompa- nied by some other lords and dukes and ge- nerals and those sort of things. Ho rode a little bay horse, and his close wasn't any better than mine. You'll always notiss, by the way, that the higher up in the world a man is, the less good harness ho puts on. Hence Gin'ral Halleck wolks the streets in plain citizen's dress, while the second lieutenant of a volunteer regiment piles all the brass things he can find onto his back, and drags a forty-pound sword after him. Monck has been in the lord bisniss some time, and I unde "stand pays, tho' I don't know what a lore's wages is. Tho wages of sin is death and postage-stamps. But this has nothing to do with Monck. One of Lord Monck's daughters rode with him on the field. She has golden hair, a kind good face, and wore a red hat. I should be very happy to have her pay me and my family a visit at Baldinsville. Come and bring your knittin'. Miss Monck. Mrs. Ward will do the fair thing by you. She makes the best slap-jacks in America. As a slap-jackist, she has no ekal. She wears the Belt. What the review was all about, I don't know. T haven't a gigantic intelleck, which can grasp great questions at onct. I am not a Webster or a Seymour. I am not a Washington or a Old Abe. Fur from it. I am not as gifted a man as Hen- ry Ward Beecher. Even the congrega- tion of Plymouth Meetin'-House in Brook- lyn will admit that. Yes, I should think so. But while I don't have the slitest idee as to what the reveew was fur, I will state that the sojers looked pooty scrumptious in their red and green lose. Come with mo, jon tic reader, toQuobcck. Quebeck was surveyed and laid out by a gentleman who had been afflicted with tho delirium tremens from childhood, and honco his idees of things was a littlo irreg'ler. The streets don't lead anywheres in partic*- lar, but everywheres in gin'ral. Tho city is bilt on a variety of pcrpendicler hills, each hill bein' a trifle wuss nor t'other one. Quebeck is full of stone walls, and arches, and citadels and things. It is said no foe could ever git into Quebeck, and I guess they couldn't. And I don't see what the'yd leant to get in there for. Quebeck has seen lively times in a war- like way. The French and Britishers had a set-to there in 1759. Ji.M Wolff, com- manded the latters, and Jo. Montoalm the formers. Both were hunky boys, and fit nobly. But Wolfe was too many measles for Montcalm, and tho French was slew'd. Wolfe and Montcalm wa.s both killed. In arter years a common mo- nyment was erected by the gen'rous people of Quebeck, aided by a bully Earl named George Dalhousie, to these noble fellows. That was well done. Durin' the Revolutionary War B. Ar- nold made his way, through dense woods and thick snows, from Maine to Quebeck, which it was one of the hunkiest thinsrs ever done in the military line. It would have been better if B. Arnold's ftineral had come off immediatly on his arrival there. On the Plains of Abraham there was onct some tall fitin', and ever since then there has beea a great demand for the bones of the slew'd on that there occasion. But the real ginooine bones was long ago carried off, and now the boys make a han- sura thing by cartin' the bones of bosses and sheep out there, and sellin' em to intel- ligent American toweristes. Takin' a per- fessional view of this dodge, I must say that it betrays genius of a lorfty character. It reminded me of a inspired feet of my own. I used to exhibit a wax figger of I ler, to Quobcok. llnid out by a Bictcd with the bood, and henco littlo irre^'lor. heres iu partic'- ral. The city pendicler hills, nor t'other one. Is, and arches, . is said no foo c, and I guess aec what tho'yd mes in a war- Britishers had Wolff, com- ). Montcalm iky boys, and ras too many i the French ONTGALM was El common mo- en'rous people J Earl named ) noble fellows. War B. Aa- dense woods to Quebeck, nkiest things e. It would old's ftineral I his arrival IN CANADA. 81 IIrnhy WiLKiNH, the Boy Murderer. Henry had, in a moment of inadvertence, killed his Uncle Ephka.m, and walked off with tl old inon's money. Well, this Btattoo was lost somehow, and not sposin' it would make any partieler difference, I sub- Btitooted the full-grown stattoo of one of my distinguished pirut^ for the Boy Mur- derer. One night I exhibited to a poor but honest audience in the town of Stono- ham, Maine. " This, ladies and gentle- men," said I, pointing my umbrella (that weapon which is indispansable to every troo American) to the stuttoo, "this is a life- like wax figger of the notorious Henry WiLKiNS, who in the dead of night murdered his Uncle Ephram in cold blood. A sad warning to all uncles havin' mur- derers for nephews. When a mere child this Henry Wilkins was compelled to go to the Sunday-school. He carried no Sunday-school book. The teacher told him to go heme and bring one. He went j>nd returned with a comic song-book. A depraved proceedin'." " But," says a man in the audience, ' " when you was here before your wax figger represented Henry Wilkins as a boy. Now, Henry was hung, and yet you show him to us now as a full-grown man I How's that ?" "The figger has growd, sir— it has growd," I said. I was angry. If it hud been in these timcb 1 think 1 should have informed agiu him as a traitor to his flag, and hud him put iu Fort liufuyetto. I say udoo to Quebeck with regret. It is old fogyish, but chock full of interest. Young gentlemen of a romantic turn of mind, who air bothorin' theii- heads as how they can spend their father's money, had better see Quebeck. Altogether I like Canady. Good people and lots of pretty girls. I wouldn't mind comin' over here to live in the capacity of a Duke, provided a vacancy occurs, and pro- vided further I could be allowed a few star- spangled banners, a eagle, a boon of liberty, etc. Don't think I've skedaddled. Not at all. I'm coming home in a week. Let's have the Union restored as it waa, if we can ; but if we can't 7'm in favor of the Union as it wam^t. But the Union anyhow. Gentlemen of the editorial corpse, if you would be happy be virtoous I I, who am the emblem of virtoo, tell you so. (Signed,) " A. Ward." m there was jr since then 1 for the bones ire occasion, vas long ago make a ban- es of bosses i' em to intel- Pakin' a per- nust say that aracter. d feet of my ax figger of (I ■ ^ ■- c V. THE NOBLE RED MAN. The red man of the forest was form'ly a very respectful person. Justice to the uoble aboorygine warrants mo in sayin' that orrigemerly he was a majestic cuss. At the time Chris, arrove on these shores (I allood to Chris. Columbus), the savrjis was virtoous and happy. They were innocent of secession, rum, draw- poker, and sinfulness gin'rally. They didn't discuss the slavery question as a custom. They had no Congress, faro banks, delirium tremens, or Associated Press. Their habits was consequently good. Late suppers, dyspepsy, gas com- panies, thiuves, ward politicians, pretty waiter-girls, and other metropolitan refine- ments, were unknown among them. No savage in good standing would take postage- stamps. You couldu't have bo't a cocn .skin with a barrel of 'em. The female Aboorygine never died of consumption, be- cause she didn't tie her waist up in whale- bone things ; but in loose and flowin' gar- ments she bounded, with naked feet, over hills and plains like the wild and frisky antelope. It was a onlucky moment for us when Chris, sot his foot onto these 'ere shores. It would have been better for us of the present day if the injins had given him a warm meal and sent him home ore the ragin' billers. For the savages owned the country, and Columbus was a filli- buster. CoRTEZ, PrzARRo, and Walker were one-horse fillibusters — Colujibus was a four-horse team fillibuster, and a largo yaller dog under the waggin. I say, in view of the mess we are makin' of things, it would have been better for u? if Colujibus had staid to heme. It would have been better for the show bisniss. The circula- tion of Vanity Fair would be larger, and the proprietors would all have boozum pins ! Yes, sir, and perhaps a ten-pin alley. By rhich I don't wish to be imderstood as intimatin' that the scalpin' wretches who are in the injin bisniss at the present d;\y are of any account, or calculated to make home happy, especially the Sioxes of Min- nesoty, who desar\'e to be murdered in the first degree, and if Pope will only stay in St. Paul and not gj near 'cm himself, I reckon they will bo. ito these 'ere better for us na had given im home ore A'ages owned 5 was a filli- nd Walker LUMBUS was and a largo I say, in of things, it ' Columbus 1 have been Che circula- ! larger, and )ozum pins ! alley. understood retches who present driy 3d to make ces of Min- ered in the aly stay in himself. I MINT Lo: The poor Red man and a "pretty waiter girl." See page 22. VI. THE SERENADE. Things in our tcwn is workin'. The canal boat " Lucy Ann" called in hero the other day and reported all quiet on the W-'hash. The "Lucy Ann" has adopted a now style of Binnakle light, in the shape of a red-headed gal who sita up over the compass. It works well. The artist I spoke about in my larst has returned to PhiladelpLy. Before he left I took his lily-white hand in mine. I sug- gcstcvl to him that if he could induce the citizens of Philadelphy to believe it would be a good idea to have white winder-shutters on their houses and white door-stones, he might make a fortin. " It's a novcUy," I added, " and may startle 'em at fust, but they may conclood to adopt it." As several of our public men are con- stantly being surprised witli serenades, I concluded I'd be surprised in the same way, so I made frrangcments accordin'. I asked the Brass Band how much they'd take to take mc entirely by surprise with a serenade. They gaid they'd overwhelm me with a un- expected honor for seven dollars, which I excepted. B'il wrote out my impromtoo speech severil days beforehand, bcin' very careful to ex- 24 THE feERENADE. ^ pungc all iDgramatcicisms and payin' parti- cular attention to the punktooation. It was, if I may say it without egitism, a manly effort but, alars! I never delivered it, as the sekel will show you. I paced up and down the kitcin speakin' my piece over so as to be entirely perfeck. My blooming young daughter Sarah Ann bothered me sum- mut by singin', " Why do dummer roses fade?" " Because," said I, arter hearin' her sing it about fourteen times, "because it's their biz! Let 'em fade." " Betsy," said I, pausin' in the middle of the room and letting my eagle eye wander from the manusciip ; " Betsy, on the night of this hero serenade, I desires you to ap- pear at the winder dressed in white, and wave a lily-white handkercher. Dy 'e hear?' ' "If I appear," paid that remarkable female, " I shall wave a lily-white bucket of bilin hot water, and somebody will be scalded. One bald-headed old fool will get his share." She refer'd to her husband. No doubt about it in my mind. But for fear she might exasperate me I said no thin'. The expected night cum. At 9 o'clock precisely there was sounds of fooisteps in the yard, and the Band struck up a lively air, which when they did finish it, there was cries of " Ward ! Ward !" I stept out onto the portico. A brief glance showed me that the assemblage was summet mixed. There was a great many ragged boys, and there was quite a number of grown up per- sons evigently under the affluence of thein- toxicatin' bole. The Band was also drunk. Dr. Sciiwazey, who was holdin' up a post, seemed to be partic'ly drunk — so much so that it had got into his spectacles, which were staggorin' wildly over his nose. But I was in for it, and I commenced : " Feller Citizens : For this onexpected honor " Leader of the Band. — .Will you give us our money now, or wait till you get through ? To this painful ati disgustin' interrup- tion I paid no attention. " for this onexpected honor I thank you." Leader of tht Band. — But you said you'd give us seven dollars if we'd play two choons. Again I didn't notice h'm, but resumed ae follows : " I say I thank yoa warmly. When I look at this crowd of true Americans, my heart swells " Ih. Schwazey. — So do I ! A voice.— We all do I " my heart swells " A voice. — Three cheers for the swells. " We live," said I, " in troublous times, but I hope we shall again rest me our former proud position, and go on in our glorious career I " Dr. Schwazey. — I'm willin' for one to go on in a glorious career. Will you join me, fellow citizens, in a glorious career? W hat wages does a man git for a glorious career, when he finds himself? " Dr. Sohwazey," said I sternly, " you are drunk. You're disturbin' the meetin'." Dr. S. — Have you a banquet spread in the house ? I should like a rhynossyrosa on the half shell, or a hippopotamus on toast, or a horse and wagon roasted whole. Anything that's handy. Don't put your- self out on ruy account. At this pint the Band begun to make hidyous noises with their brass horns, and a exceedingly ragged boy wanted to know if there wasn't to be some wittlea afore the concern broke up ? I didn't exactly know what to do, and was just on the pint of doin' it, when a upper winder suddenly opened, and a stream of hot water was bro't to bear on the disorderly crowd, who took the hint and retired at once. When I am taken by surprise with another serenade, I shall, among other arrangements, have a respectful company on hand. So no more from me to-day. When this you see, remember me. ^^,,^,,,«M»W«BMI9«»¥*'»*fM*»« iistin' interrup- l honor I thank But you said I if we'd play , but resumed Qly. When I i-mericans, my ' the swells. )ubIous times, real ma our JO on in our i' for one to iVill you join iou3 career? 'r a glorious ternly, " you ;he meetin'." 5t spread in ■hynossyross potamus on isted whole. t put your- m to make horns, and -ed to know 63 afore the :aotly know the pint of r suddenly it was bro't , who took VII. A ROMANCE.— WILLIAM BARKER, THE YOUNG PATRIOT. " No, William Barker, you cannot have my daughter's hand in marriage until you are her equal in wealth and social posi- tion." The speaker was a haughty old man of some sixty years, and the person whom he addressed was a fine looking young man of twenty-five. With a sad aspect the young man withdrew from the stately mansion. II. Six months later the young man stood in the presence of the haughty old man. " What ! you here again ? " angrily cried the old man. " Ay, old man," proudly exclaimed William Barker. " I am here, your daughter's equal and yours ? " The old man's lips curled with scorn. A derisive smile lit up his cold features ; when, casting violently upon the marble centre table an enormous roll of green- backs, William Barker cried — "See! Lo on this wealth. And I've tenfold more! Listen, old man! You spurned me from your door. But I did not despair. I secured a contract for furnishing the Army of the with beef " " Yes, yes ! " eagerly exclaimed the old man. " -and I bought up all the disabled cavalry horses I could find " " I see ! I see ! " cried the old man. " And good beef they make, too." " They do I they do ! and the profits are immense." "I should say so!" " And now, sir, I claim your daughter's fair hand ! " " Boy, she is yours. But hold ! Look me in the eye. Throughout all this have you been loyal? " " To the core I " cried William Barker. " And," continued the old man, in* a voice husky with emotion, " are you in favor of a vigorous prosecution of the war?" " I am, I am ! " " Then, boy, take her ! Maria, child, come hither. Your William claims thee. Be happy, ray children ! and whatever our lot in life may be, let m all ^ujjport the Goveiiimeni ! " VIII. A ROMVNCE— THE CONSCRIPT. [Which may bother the reader a little unless he is femiliar with the music of the day.] I* It i Chapter I. Philander Reed struggled with spool- tliread and tape in a dry-goods store at Ogdensburgh, on the St. Lawrence River, State of New York. Fe rallied Round the Flag, Boys, and Hailed Columbia every time she passed that way. One day a regi- ment returning from the war Came March- ing Along, bringing An Intelligent Contra- band with them, who left the South about the time Babylon was a-Fallin', and when it was apparent to all well-ordered minds that the Kingdom was Coming, accom- panied by the Day of Jubiloo. Philander left his spool-thread and tape, rushed into the street, and by liis Long-Tail Blue, said, " Let me kiss him for his Mother." Then, with patriotic jocularity, he inquired, " How is your High Daddy in the Morn- ing?" to which Pomp of Cudjo's Cave replied, " That poor Old Slave has gone to rest, we ne'er shall see him more ! But U. S. G. is the man for me, or Any Othor Man." Then he Walked Round. ''••< And your Master," said Philander, "where is he?" " Massa's in the cold, cold ground — at l^ast I hope so ! " said the gay contraband. " March on, March on ! all hearts re- joice ! " cried the Colonel, who was mounted on a Bob-tailed nag — on which, in times of Peace, my soul, Peace ! he had betted his money. " Yaw," said a German Bold Sojer Boy, " we (lon't-fights-mit-Segel as much as we did." The regimcnt]marched on, and Philander betook himself to his mother's Cottage Near the Banks of that Lone River, and rehear- sed the stirring speech he was to make that night at a war meeting. " It's just before the battle, Mother,' he said, " and I want to say s(»mething that will encourage Grant." Chavter II. — Mabel. Mabel Tucker was an orphan. Her father, Dan Tucker, was run over one day by a train of cars, though he needn't have been, for the kind-hearted oigineer told him to Git Out of the Way. Mabel early manifester'i a marked in- clination for the millinery business, and at the time we introduce her to our readers she was Chief Engineer of a Millinery Shop and Boss of a Sewing Mfichine. Philander Reed loved Mabel TucVer, and Ever of her was Fondly Dreaming; and she used to say, " Will you love mo Then as Now I " to which he would answer that he would, and loitlwut the written con- sent of his parents. She sat in the parkir of the Cot where she was Born, one Summer's eve, with pensive thought, when Somebody came Knocking at the Door. It was Philander. Fond Embrace and things. Thrilling emo- tions. P. very pale and shaky in the legs. Also, sweaty. " Where hast thou been ? " she said. " Hast been gathering shells from youth to ag3, and then leaving them like a che-eild ? Why this tremors? Why these Sadfulness ?" le day.] 1 Philander jttage Near and rehear- ) make that lother,' he ithins that ian. Her er one day edn't have er told him arked in- 3SS, and at ir readers inery Shop 1 Tucker, )reaming ; I love mo lid answer ritten con- !!!ot where 3ve, with idy came 'hilander. ling emo- the legs. ihe said, youth to 5he-eild ? ulness?" / A ROMANCE. 27 "Mabeyuel!" ho cried, "Mabeyuel! They've Drafted mo into the Army ! " An Orderly Seargeant now appears and says, " Come, Philander, let's be a march- ing;" and he tore her from his embrace (P's) and marched the conscript to the Examining Surgeon's office. Mabel fainted in two places. It was worse than Brothers Fainting at the Door. Chapter III. — The Conscript. Philander Reed hadn't three hundred dollars, being a dead-broken Reed, so he must either become one of the noble Band who are Coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more, or skeddadle ac ■"' the St. Lawrence River to the Canauu Line. As his opinions had recently under- gone a radical change, he chose the latter course, and was soon Afloat, Afloat, on the swift-rolling tide. " Row, brothers, row," he cried, " the stream runs fast, the Seargeant is near, and the 'Zamination's past, and I'm a able-bodied man." Landing, he at once imprinted a conser- vative kiss on the Canada Line, and feeling- ly asked himself, "Who will care for Mother new ? But I' propose to stick it out on this Line, if it takes all Summer." Chapter IV. — The Meeting. It was evening, it was. The Star of the Evening, Beautiful Star, shone brilliantly, adorning the sky with those Neutral tints which have characterized all British skies ever since this War broke out. Philander sat on the Canada Line, play- ing with his Yardstick, and perhaps about to take the measure of an unmade piece of cfHco ; when Mabel, with a wild cry of joy, sprang from a small-boat to his side. The meeting was too much. They divided a good square faint between them this time. At last Philander found his utt«rance, and said, " Do they think of me at Home, do they ever think of me ? " " No," she replied, " but they do at the recruiting office." "Ha! 'tis well." " Nay, dearest," Mabel pleaded, "eorae home and go to the war like a man ! I will take your place in the Dry Goods store. True, a musket is a little heavier than a yardstick, but isn't it a rather more manly weapon ? " " I don't see it," was Philander's reply ; " besides this war isn't conducted accordin' to the Constitution and Union. When it is — when it is, Mabeyuel, I will return and enlist as a Convalescent!" " Then, Sir," she said, with much Ameri- can disgust in her countenance, " then, sir, farewell !" "Farewell!" he said, "and When this Cruel War is Over, pray that we may meet again ! " Nary !" cried Mabel, her eyes flashing warm fire, — " nary ! None but the brave deserve the Sanitary Fair ! A man who will desert his country in its hour of trial would drop Faro checks into the Contribu- tion Box on Sunday. I ain't Got time to tarry — I hain't got time to stay! — but here's a gift at parting : a White Feather : wear it into your hat !" and She was gone from his gaze, lik ; a beautiful dream. Stung with remorse and mosquitoes, this miserable young man, in a fit of frenzy, unsheathed his glittering dry-goods scis- sors, cut off four yards (good measure) of the Canada Line, and hanged himself on a Willow Tree. liequiescat in Tajie. His stick drifted to My Country 'tis cf thee t and may be seen, in connexion with many others, on the stage of any New York theatre every night. The Canadians won't have any line pretty soon. The skedaddlers will steal it. Then the Canadians won't know whether they're in the United States or not, in which case they may be drafted. Mabel married a Brigadier-General, and is happy. I IX. A ROMANCE— ONLY A MECHANIC. y. ..I I ; .4 In a sumptuously furnished parlor in Fifth Avenue, New York, sat a proud and haughty belle. Her name was Isabel Saw- telle. Her father was a millionnaire, and his ships, richly laden, ploughed many a sea. By the side of Isabel Suwtelle, sat a young man with a clear, beautiful eye, and a massive brow. " I must go," he said, " the forb>aan will wonder at my absence." " The foreman ?" asked Isabel in a tone of surprise. " Yes, the foreman of the shop where I work." " Foreman — shop — work ! What I do you work ?" " Aye, Miss Sawtelle ! I am a cooper !" and his eyes flashed with honest pride. " What's that ?" she asked ; " it is some- thing about barrels, isn't it !" " It is !" he said, with a flashing nostril. " And hogsheads." " Then go !" she said, in a tone of dis- ■dain — " go away !" " Ha I" he cried, " you spuni me then, because I am a mechanic. Well, be it so ! though the tim e will come, Isabel Sawtelle," he added, and nothing could fx<^eed his looks at this moment — " when you will bitterly remember the cooper y ju now so cruelly oast ofl' I Farewell /" Years rolleci on. Isabel Savitelle mar- ried a miserable aristocrat, wh>) recently died of delirium tremens. £l!er father failed, and is now a raving maniac, and wants to bite little children. A.l her bro- thers (except one) were sent to the peni- tentiary for burglary, and her mother ped- dles clams thai; are stolen for her by little George, her only son that has hiiii freedom. Isabel's sister Bianoa rides an immoral spotted horse in the circus, her husband having long since been hanged for murder- ing his own i.ncle on his mother's side. Thus we see thit it is always best to marry a mechanic. 'i ! ini me then, bII, be it so ! si Sawtelle," iixv'eea' his Bri. you will you now so wtelle mar- h) recently Eier father Qiimiao, and i!l her bro- the peni- uDther pcd- ler by little tiiii freedom, n immoral er- husband for murder- ther's side. 3t to marry The Editor of " The Bugle " is interrupted by Betsey Jane and her femrle wariors. Seepage 11. BOSTON. A. W. TO HIS WIFE. Dear Betsy : I write you this from Boston, " the Modern Atkins," as it is denomyunated, altho' I skurcly know what those air. I'll give you a kursoory view of this city. I'll klassify the paragrafs under seprit headins, arter the stile of those Em- blems of Trooth and Poority, the Washing- ton correspongdents : COPPS' HILL. The winder of my room commands a exileratin view of Copps' Hill, where Cot- ton Slather, the father of the Eeformcrs and sich, lies berrid. There is men even now who worship Cotton, and there is wimin who wear him next their harts. But I do not weep for him . He's bin ded too lengthy. I aint goin to be absurd, like old Mr. SkUlins, in our naberhood, who is ninety- six years of age, and gets drunk every 'lection day, and weeps bitturly because he haint got uo Parents. He's a nice Orphan^ he is. so BOSTON. u i H I BUNKER HILL. Bunker Hill ia over yonder in Charleston. In 1776 a thrillin' dramy was acted out over there, in which the "Warren Combi- nation" played star parts. ME. PANUKL. Old Mr. Fanuel is dcd, but his Hall is still into full blarst. This is the Cradel in which the Goddess of Liberty was rocked, my Dear. The Goddess hasn't bin very well durin' the past few years, and the num'ris quack doctors she called in diden't help her any ; but the old gal's physicians now are men who understand their business, IMajor-generally speaking, and I think the day is near when she'll be able to take her three mesls a day, and sleep nights as comfbly as in the old time. THE COMMON. It is here, as ushil; and the low cuss who called it a Wacant Lot, and wanted to know why they didn't ornament it with sum Bildins', is a onhappy Outcast in Naponsit. THE LEOISLATUR. The State House is filled with Statesmen, but some of 'em wear queer hats. They buy'em, I take it, of hatters who carry on hat stores down stairs in Dock Square, and whose hats is either ten years abed of the prevalin' stile, or ten years behind it — just as a intellectooal person sees fit to think about it. I had the pleasure of talkin' with sevril members of the legislatur. I told 'em the eye of 1,000 ages was onto we American people of to-day. They seemed deeply impressed by the remark, and wantid to know if I had seen the Grate Orgin ? HARVARD COLLEGE. This celebrated institootion of leamin' is pleasantly situated in the Bar-room of Parker's, in School street, and has poopils from all over the country. I had a letter, yes'd'y by the way, from our mootual son, Artemus, Jr., who is at Bowdoin College in Maine. He writes that he's a Bowdoin Arab. & is it cum to this ? Is this Boy, as I nurtucred with a Parent's care into his childhood's hour — is he goin' to be a Great American humorist ? Alars I I fear it is too troo. Why didn't I bind him out to the Patent Travellin' Vegetable Pill Man, as was struck with his appearance at our last County Fair, & wanted him t« go with him and be a Pillist ? Ar, these Boys — they little know how the old folks worrit about 'em. But my father he never had no occasion to worrit about me. You know, Betsy, that when I fust commenced my career ;!is a nioial exhibitor with a six-lc^cd cat and a Baas drum, I was only a simple pesaut child — skurco 1 5 Summers had flow'd over my yoothful hed. But I had some mind of ray own. My father understood this. " Go," he said — "go, my son, and hog the public!" (ho ment, " knock em," bun the old man was alius a little given to slang). He put his withered han' tremblinly onto ray hed, and went sadly into the hous. I thought I saw tears tricklin' down his venerable chin, but it might hav' been tobacker jooce. He ohaw'd. LITERATOOR. The Atlantic Monthly, Betsy, is a reg'lar visitor to our westun home. I like it be- cause it has got sense. It don't print stories with piruts and honist young men into 'em, making the piruts splendid fellers and the honist young men dis'gree'ble idiots — so that our darters very nat'rally prefer the piruts to the honist young idiots; but it gives us good square American literatoor. The chaps that write for the Atlantic, Betay, understand their business. They can sling ink, they can. I went in and saw 'em. I told 'em that theirs was a high and holy mission. They seemed quite gratifyed, and asked me if I had seen the Grate Orgin. WHERE THE FUST BLUp WAS SPILT. I went over to Lexington yes'd'y. My Boosum hove with solium emotions. " & BOSTON. 31 !. Ho writes & is it cum to rtucred with a wd's hour — is Ban humorist? Why didn't mt Travellin' ;ruck with his mty Fair, & ibeaPillist? now how the Jut my father worrit about when I fust 'lal exhibitor taas drum, I — skurco 15 'y yoothful of my own. So," he said ublic!" (ho d man was He put his ly hed, and •ught I saw e chin, but iooce. He is a reg'lar like it be- rint stories 1 into 'em, s and the idiots — so prefer the s; but it literatoor. Atlantic, s. They 1 and saw high and Tatifyed, te Orgin. this," I said to a man who was drivin' a yoke of oxen. " this is where our revolu- tionary forefathers asserted their indepen- dence and spilt their Blud. Classic ground !" "Wall," the man said, "it's good for white beans and potatoes, but as regards rasin' wheat t'ain't worth a dam. But hav' you seen the Grate Orgin?" THE POOTY GIRL IN SPECTACLES. I returned in the Hoss Cars, part way. A pooty girl in spectacles sot near me, and was tellin' a young man how much he re- minded her of a man she used to know in Waltham. Pooty soon the young man got out, and, smilin' in a seductiv' manner, I said to the girl in spectacles, " Don't / re- mind you of some boddy you used to know?" "Yes," she said, " you do remind mcof one man, but he was sent to the pen'>,en- tary for stelin' a Bar'l mackeril — he died there, so I conclood you ain't him." I didn't pursoo the conversation. I only heard her silvery voice once more durin' the remainder of the jerney. Tumin' to a respectable lookin' female of advanced eummers, she asked her if she had seen the Orate Orgin. We old chaps, my dear, air apt to forget that it is sum time since we was in- fants, and et lite food. Nothin' of further int'rist took place on the cars excep' a colored gentleman, a total stranger to me, asked if I'd lend him my diamond Brestpin to wear to a funeral in South Boston. I told him I wouldn't — not a jmrpuss. WILD GAME. Altho' fur from the prahaories, there is abundans of wild game in Boston, such as' quails, snipes, plover and Props. COMMON SKOOLS. A excellent skool sistim is in vogy here. John Slurk, my old partner, has a^little son who has only bin to ekoU two months, and yet he ezhibertid hia father's performin' Bear in the show all last summer. I hope they pay partic'lar 'tention to Spelin' in these Skools, because if a man can't Spel wel he's of no 'kount. summin' up. I ment to have allooded to the Grate Orgin in this letter, but I ha/on't seen it, Mr. Reveer, whoso tavern I stop at, informed me that it can be distinctly heard through a smoked glass in his nativ town in New Hampshire, any clear day. But settin' the Grate Orgin aside (and indeed, I don't think I heard it mentioned all the time I was there), Boston is one of the grandest, sure-footedest, clearheadedest, comfortables cities on the globe. Onlike ev'ry other large city I was ever in, the most of the hackmen d'on't seem to hav' bin speshully intended by natur for the Burglery perfession, and it's about the only large city I know of where you don't enjoy a brilliant opportunity of bein' swindled in sum way, from the Risin of the sun to the goin down thereof. There4 I say, loud and continnered applau's for Boston ! DOMESTIC MATTERS. Kiss the children for me. What you telle me bout the Twins greeves me sorely. Whom I sent 'em that Toy Enjine I had not contempyulated that they would so fur forgit what was doo the dignity of our house as to squirt dish-water on the Incum Tax Collector. It is a disloyal act, and shows a prematoor leamin' tords cussedness that alarms me. I send to Amelia Ann, our oldest dawter, sum new music, viz., " I am Lonely sints My Mother-in law Died " ; 'Dear Mother, What t'ho' the Hand that Spanked me in my Childhood's Hour is withered now ? " &o. These song writers, by the way, air doin' tne Mother Bisiness rather too muchly. Your Own Troo husban', Artehus Wa.rd. i : XI. A MORMON ROMANCE— REGINALD GLOVERSON. \ it Chapter I. THE mormon's departure. The morning on which Reginald Glo- verson was to leave Groat Salt Lake City with a mule-train, dawned beautifully. Reginald Glovcrson was a young and thrifty Mormon, with an interesting family of twenty young and handsome wives. His unions had never been blessed with children. As often as once a year he used to go to Omaha, in Nebra.ska, with a muletrain for goods ; but althov.jjh he had performed the rather perilous journey many times with entire safety, his heart was strangely sad on this particular morning, and fillde with gloomy forebodings. The time for his departure had arrived. The high-spirited mules were at the door, impatiently champing their bits. The Mormon stootl sadly among his weeping wives. " Dearest onts," he said, " I am singu- larly sad at heart, this morning ; but do not let this depress you. The journey is a perilous one, but — pshaw ! I have always come back safely heretofore, and why should I fear ? Besides, I know that every night, as I la^- down on the broad starlit prairie, your b''ight faces will come to me in my dreakns, and make my slumbers sweet and gentle, fou, Emily, with your mild bluo eyes ; a,ni you, Henrietta, with your splen- did black hair ; and you, Nelly, with your hair so brightly, beautifully golden ; '"nd you, MoUie, with your cheeks so downy ; and you, Betsey, with your wine-red lips — &r more delicious, though, than any wine I ever tasted — and you, Maria, with your winsome voice ; and you, Susan, with your — with your— that is to say, Susan, with your and the other thirteen of you, each so good and beoutiful, will come to me in sweet dreams, will you not, Dearestists ? " " Our own, " they lovingly chimed, " wo will!" " And so farewell ! " cried Reginald. " Come to my arms, my own ! " ho said, " that is, as many of you as can do it con- veniently at once, for I must uway " He folded several of them to his throb- bing breast, and drove sadly away. But he had not gone far when the trace of the off-hind mule became unhitched. Dismounting, he essayed to adjust the trace ; but ere he had fairly commenced the task, the mule, a singularly refractory animal — snorted wildly, and kicked Reginald fright- fully in the stomach. He arose with diflS- culty, and tottered feebly towards his mothers house, which was near by, falling dead in her yard, with the remark, " Dear Mother, I've come home to die ! " " So I see," she said ; "wherc's the mules! " Alas ! Reginald Gloverson could give no answer. In vain the heart-stricken mother threw herself upon his inanimate form, crying, " Oh, my son — my son ! only tell me where the mules are, and then you may die if you want to." In vain — in vain ! Reginald had passed on. Chapter II. FUNERAL TRAPPINGS. The mules were never found. Reginald's heart-broken mother took the body home to her unfortunate son's widows. But before her arrival she indiscreetly sent A MORMON .ROMANCE. 33 a boy to Bust the news gently to the afflict- ed wives, wliich ho did by iiiforniing thoui, in a hoarHc whisper, that their " old man had gone in." The wives felt very badly indeed. *Ho was devoted to nie," sobbed Emily. "And to nie," said Maria, "Yes," said Emily, "he thought consid- erably of you, but not so much as ho did of me." "I say he did I" " And I say ho didn't I" "He did I" " He didn't I" " Don't look atnie, with yoursrjuint eyes. " Don't shake your red head at me I" "Sisters I" said the black-haired Hen- rietta, "cease this unseemly wrangling. I aa his first wife shall strew flowers on his grave." " No yonwon't," said Susan, " I, as his last wife, Mliall strew flowers on his grave. It's viy business to strew !" "You shan't, so there !" said Henrietta. "You bet I will!" said Susan, with a tear-suff'used cheek. " Well, as for me," said the practical Betsy, " I ain't on the Strew, much, but I shall ride at the head of the funeral pro- cession!" " Not if I've been introduced to myself you won't," said the golden-haired Nelly ; that's my position. You bet your bonnet- strings it is." " Children," said Reginald's mother, " you must do some cryiug, you know, on the day of the funeral; and how many pocket-handkerchers will it take to go round? Belsy, you and Nelly ought to make one do between you." "I'll tear her eyes out if she perpetuates a sob on my handkercher I" said Nelly. " Dear daughters-in-law," said Reginald's mother, "how unseemly is this anger. Mules is five hundred dollars a span, and every identical mule my poor boy had has been gobbled up by the red man. I knew when my Reginald sta^;ered into the door- yard that ho was on the Die, but if I'd only thunk to ask him about them nmloH ere his gentle .sprit took flight, it would have been four thousand dollars in our pocki^tn, and no mistake I Excuse those real tears, but you've never felt a parent's fcelin's." '• It's an over-sight," sobbed Maria. " Don't blame us 1" Chapter III. DUST TO DUST. The funeral passed off in a very pleasant manner, nothing occurring to mar the har- mony of the occasion. By a happy thought of Reginald's mother the wives walked to the grave twenty a-breast, which rendered that part of the ceremony thoroughly im- partial. That night the twenty wives, with heavy hearts, sought their twenty n'spectivc C(,uches. But no Reginald occupied those twenty respective couches — Reginald would nevermore linger all night in blissful rcposo in those twenty respective couches — Regin- ald's head would nevermore press the twenty respective pillows of those twenty respective couches — never, nevermore ! In anotlier house, not many leagues from the House of Mourning, a gray-haired woman was weeping passion att'ly. '' He died," she cried, " he died witliout sig- erfyin', in any respect, where them mules went to!" Chapter IV. MARRIED AGAIN. Two years are supposed to elapse between the third and fourth chapters of this orig- inal American romance. * A manly Mormon, one evening, as the sun was preparing to set among a select apartment of gold and crimson clouds in the western horizon — although for that matter the sun has a right to " set " where it wants to, and so, I may add, has a hen ifl 84 A MOBMON BOMANCB. munlj Mormon, 1 Hiiy, tapped Rontly ut tho ps Ulyssis wouud't nui»d my turnin' in with him. " "Do you know the Gin'ral'^" impiired Mr. Spotswood. '• Wall, no, not 'xackly ; but he'll remem- ber mo. His brother-in-law's Aunt bought her ryo meal of my uncle Levi all one winter. My uuclo Levi's rye meal was " Pooh ! jxxih !" said Sjx)tsy, " don't bo- ther me," and heshuv'd my umbrella onto the floor. Obsjirvin' to him not to be so keerless with that wepin, I accompanid the African to my lodgii s. " iMy brother," I sed, " 'ur you aware tlat you've bin 'maucipated '? Do you rea- lise how glorus it is to bo free ? Tell me, my dear brother, does it not .seem like some dreams, or do your realise the great fact iu all its livin' nnd holy magnitood V He sed he would take some gin. I was show'd to the cowyard and laid down under a one-nude cart. The hotol was orful crowded, and I was sorry I hadn't gone to the Libby Pri.son. Tho' I should hav' slept comf'ble euufl' if the bedclothes hadn't bin pulled off me durin' the night, by a scoundrul who ciun ami hitched a mule to the cart and druv it off. I thus lost my euverin', and my throat foels a lit- tle husky this mornin. Oin'ral Hulleck offers me tho hospitali- ty of the city, givin' mo my choice of hos- pitals. He hius also very kindly placed at my disposal a sinall-jwx tuuboolance. UNION SENTTMENT. There is raly a great deal of Union .sen- timent in this city. I s.eo it on ev'ry hand. I met a man to-day — I am not at liberty to tell lusname, but he is a old ami iiiHooeu- tooial citizen of Richmond, and sez ho, '• Why ! we've bin tiightin' agin the Old Klag! Lor' bless Mc, how sing'lar!" He thi;n 'oorrar'd live dollars of me, and bust intt) a flood of tears. Sed another (a man of sUindin and for- merly u bitter rebiul), " Let usatoucostop this etroiwhun of Bind I The Old Flag is gt)od enufi' for me. Sir," he added, " you jur from the North ' Have you a douiihnut or a piece of oustard pie about you'?" I tohl him no, hut I know a man fitim Ver- mont who had just organized a sort of restau- rant, where he could go and make a very ARTEMUS WARD IN RICHMOND. 37 oomtbrtiiblo broaktWst o» Now Kiif^land rum iiiul choeso. llo borrowed tity oont« at" mo, mid uMkiu' mu to send lum Wm. Llcyd Garrison's aiiibrotypcas soon as I j^ot homo, ho walkod off. Said another, " There's bin a tremon- ondous Union teelin' hero from the fust. But we was kept down by a rain of terror. Have you a dag^errctype of Wendell I'hil- lips about your person ? and will you loud Die four dollars for a few days till wo air onco more a happy and united poop';." JEKF. DAVIS. Jeff. Davis is not pop'lar here. Sho is regarded as a Southern sympathiser. & yit I'm told ho was kind to his Paamts. Slie ran away from 'em many years ago, and has never bin back. This was showin' 'em a good deal of consideration when we refleck what his oonduok has boon. Her oaptur in female apiwral coufimses me in regard to his sex, & you see I speak of hiin ns a her as frekent as otherwise, & I guess ho I'eels so hissolf. B. LEE. Robert Leo is regarded la a uoble feller. He was opposed to the war at the fust, luid draw'd his sword very reluctant. In fact, ho wouldn't hav' druwd his sword at idl, only h" had a large st<.)ek of military clothes on hand, which ho didn't want to waste. Ho soz tho colored uuui is right, imd ho will at ouco go to New York and open Sabbath School for ni^ro miuistrels. THE CONFEDERATE ARMY. Tho surrender of R. Lee, J. Johnston, and others, leaves tho Confmlerit Army in a ■uthcr lihattcred stjite That army now consists of Kirby Smith, four mules and a Bass drum, and it is movin rapidly to'rds Toxis. A PROUD AND HACOHTY SUTIIERNKR. Foolin' a littlo jKHjkisli, I wont into a eatin' house to-day, and onoountorod a young man with long black hair and slender frame. Hti didn't wear muc)< olothos, and them as ho did wearlcHiked onhoalthy. He frowned on uio, and sod, kinder swn-nful, " So, Sir — you come here to trnint us in our hour of trouble, do you ?" " No," said I, " I cum hero for hash I" " l*ish-ha\v !" ho said sneeringly, " I mean you i»ir in this city for the purpuss of glothin' over a fallen people. Others nuiy basely succumb, but as for mo, 1 will never yield — never, never /" '• Hav' suithiu' to eat ?" I pleasantly suggested, " Tri})0 and onions !" he sod furoely ; then ho added, '• I eat with you, but I hate you. Wni'ro a low-lived Yankee'/" T(i which I pleasiuitly replied, " How'l you have your tiipe T' " Fried, mudsill ! with plenty of ham- fat !" He et very ravenus. I'oor feller ! Ho had lived on odds ami ends for several days, oatin' crackers that had bin turned over by revelers in the bread tray at the bar. He got full at last, and his hart soften^'d a little tivards me. "After all," he sed, "you hav sum pi'oplo !\t tlie North who air not wholly loathsum boasts "i"" " ^Vell, yes," I sed, " wo hav' now and then a man auioiig us who isn't a cold-blud- ded sooundril. Young mat;," I mildly but gravely sed, " this erooil war is over, and you're lickt I It's rather mvossary for sum- Dody to lick in a ginid sijuare, lively tite, and in this 'or© c:.8e ithap[)ens to tho United States of Anterica. You tit splended, but wo was too many for you. Then make tho best of it, & let us all give in ami put tho Republic on a firmer basis iu)r ever. '■ 1 don't gloat over your misfortins, my young fren'. Fur from it I'm an old man now, \' my hart is softer nor it once was. You BOO my spectarjles ismiiiten'd with suthin' very like tears. I'm thinkin' of tho sea of giH)d rich Blud that ha« boon split on both sides in this dredful war! I'm thinkin' of our widders and orfui-.s North, and of your'n in the South, 1 kin cry for botli. B'leove luo, my young fren', I kin place my old 88 I |r It \ I ii Mfl ! I -1 . I : n 1^1 ARtEMUS "WARD IN RICHMOND. hands tenderly on the fair yung hed of the Virginny maid whose lover was laid low in the battle dust by a fed'ral bullet, and say, as fervently and piously as a vener'ble sinner like me kin say anythin', God be good to you, my poor dear, my poor dear." I riz up to go, & takin' my yung South- ern fren' kindly by the' hand, I sed, " Yung man, adoo I You Southern fellers is probly my brothers, tho' you've occa- sionally had a cussed queer way of showin' it ! It's oviir now. Let us all jine in and make a country on this continent that shall giv' all Europe the cr-.mp in the stummuok ev'ry time they look at ust Adoo, adoo 1 " And as I am through, I'll likowise say adoo to you, jentle reader, merely remarkin' that the Star-Spangled Banner is wavin' round loose again, and that there don't seem to be anything the matter with the Goddess of Liberty beyond a slite cold. Artemus Wabd. ! 1 nent that ap Id the k at ust cowise say remarkin' is wavin' ere don't r with the J cold. Wabd. XIII. ARTEMUS WARD TO THE PRINCIE OF WALES. Friend Wales, — You remember me. I saw you in Canady a few years ago. I remember you too. I seldim forgit a per- son. I hearn of your marrig to the Printcis Alexandry, & ment ter writ you a congra- toolatory letter at the time, but I've bin bildin a barn this summer, & hain't had no time to write letters to folks. Excoos me. Numeris changes has tooken place since we met in the body politic. The body politic, in fack, is sick. I sumtimes think it has got biles, friend Wales. In my country we've got a war, while your country, in coujunktion with Cap'n Sems of the Alabarmy, manetanes a nootrol position I I'm fraid I can't write goaks when I sit about it. Oh no, I guess not 1 Yes, Sir, we've got a war, and the troj Patrit has to make sacrifisses, you bet. I have alreddy given two cousins to the war, & I stand reddy to sacrifiss my wife's brother ruther 'n not see the rebelyin krusht. And if wuss cums to wuss I'll shed ev'ry drop of blud my able-bodid relations has got to prosekoot the war. I think sumbody oughter be prosekooted, & it may as well be the war as any body else. When I git a goakin fit onto me it's no use to try ter stop me. You beam about the draft, friend Wales, no doubt. It causd sum squirmin', but it was fairly conducted, I think, for it h't all classes. It is troo that Wendill Phillips, who if? a American citizen of African scent, d'seape, but so did Vallandiggum, who is Conservativ, and who was resuntl;> sent Scuth, tho' he would have bin sent to the Dry Tortoogus if Abe had 'sposed for a minit that the Tortoogusses would keep him. We hain't got any daily paper in our town, but we've got a female sewin' circle, which ansers the same purpuss, and we wasn't long in suspents as to who was drafted. One young man who was drawd claimed to be excmp because he was the only son of a widow'd mother who supported him. A few able-bodid dead men was drafted, but whether their heirs will have to pay 3 hundrid dollars a peace for 'em is a question for Whitiu', who 'pears to be tinkerin' up this draft bizniss right smart. I hope he makes good wages. I think most of the conscrips in this place will go. A few will go to Canady, stoppin' on their way at Concord, N. H., where I understan there is a Muslum of Harts. You see I'm sassy, friend Wales, hittin' all sides; but no offense is ment. You know I ain't a politician, and never was. I vote for Mr. Union — that's the only can- didate I' ve got. I claim, howsever, to have a well-balanced mind ; tho' my idees of a well-balanced mind differs from the idees of a partner I once had, whose name it was Billson. Billson and me orjanized a stroUin' dramatic company, & we played The Drunkard, or the Falling Saved, with a real drunkard. The play didn't take particlarly, and says Billson to me. Let's giv 'em some immoral dramy. We had a large -jroop onto our hands, consistin' of eight tragedians and a bass drum, but I says, No, Billson ; and then says I, Billson^ w ii \f I'l l;| 1 J i n i V< iSi i; 40 A. WARD TO THE PRINCE OF WALES. you hain't g^t a well-balanced mind. Says he, Yes, I have, old hoss-fly (he was a low cuss) — yes, I have. I have a mind, says he, that balances in any direction that the public rekires. That's wot I calls a well- balanced mind. I sold out and bid adoo to Billson. He is now an outcast in the State of Vermont. The miser'ble man once played Hamlet. There wasn't any orches- try, and wishin' to expire to slow moosic, he died playin' on a claironett himself, in- terspersed with hart-rendin' groans, & such is the world ! Alars! alars ! how onthank- ful we air to that Providence which kindly allows I's to live and borrow money, and fail and do biziniss ! But to return to our subjcek. With onr resunt grate triumps on the Mississippi, the Father of Waters (and them is waters no Father need feel 'shamed of — twig the wit- tikism?), and the cheerin' look of things in other places, I reckon we shan't want any Muslum of Harts. And what upon airth do the people of Concord, N. H., want a Muslum of Harts for ? Hain't you got the State House now ? & what more do you want? But all this is furrin to the purpuss of this note, arter all. My objeck in now addressin' you is to giv you sum adwice, friend Wales, about managin' your wife, a bizniss I've had over thirty years experience in. You had a good weddin. The papers hav a good deal to say about " vikins " in connexion tharewith. Not knowings what that air and so I frankly tells you, my noble lord dook of the throne, I can't zackly say whether we had 'em or not. We was both very much flustrated. But I never injoyed myself better in my life. Dowtless, your supper was ahead of our'n. As regards eatin' uses Baldinsville was allers shaky. But you can git a good meal in New York, & cheap too. You can git half a mackril at Delmonico's or Mr. Mason Dory's for six dollars, and biled pertaters throw'd in. As I sed, I manige my wife without any particler trouble. When I first commenst trainin' her I institooted a series of experi- nii'iits, and them as didn't work I aban- diiig'd. You'd better do similer. Your wife may objeck to gittin' up and bildin' the fire in the mornin', but if you com- mence with her at once you may be able to overkum this prejoodiss. I regret to obsarve that I didn't commence arly enufF. I wouldn't have you s'poso I was ever kicked out of bed. Not at all. I simply say, in regard to bildin' fires, that I didn't com- mence arly enuff. It was a ruther cold mornin' when I fust proposed the idee to Betsy. It wasn't wll received, and I found myself layin' on the floor putty suddent. I thought I git up and-bild the fire myself. Of course now you're marrid you can eat onions. I alius did, and if I know my own hart, I alius will. My daughter, who is goin' on 17 and is frisky, says they's dis- gustin. And speakin of my daughter reminds me that quite a number of young men have suddenly discovered that I'm a very cntcrtainin' old feller, and they visit us frekcntly, specially on Sunday evenins. One young chap — a lawyer by habit — don't cum as much as he did. My wife's father lives with us. His intelleck totters ii little, and he saves the papers containin' the proceedins of our State Legislater. The old gen'l'man likes to read out loud, and he reads tol'ble well. He eats hash freely, which nikcs his voice clear ; but as he onfortnilly has to spell the most of his words, I may say he reads slow. Wal^, whenever this lawyer made his appearance I would set the old man a-readin the Legislativ' reports. I kept the young lawyer up one night till 12 o'clock, libtenia to a lot of acts in regard to a draw-bridge away orf in the cast part of the State, havin' sent my daughter to bed at half-past 8. He hasn't bin there since, and I understand he says I go round swindlin' the Public. I never attempted to reorganize my wife but once. I shall never attempt it agin. 1 ii pi'! A. WARD TO THE PRINCE OF WALES. 41 in ]^ifcifcii§lB The misorablo man once played Ilamlct, and expired to slow musio (produced by himself, as there was no orohestiu) . See page 40. I'd bin to a public dinner, and had allow- ed myself to be betriiyed into drinkin' sev- eral people's healths ; and wishin' to make 'em as robust as possible, I continuerd drinkin' several people's healths until my own became affected. Consekens was, I presented myself at Betsy's bedside late at night, with consid'ble licker concealed about my person. I had somehow got perseshun of a hosswhip on my way hone, and re- memberin' sum cranky observations of Mrs. Ward's in the mornin', I snapt the whip putty lively, and, in a very loud woice, I said, " Betsy, you need reorganizin' ! I hoTO cum, Betsy," I continued — crackin the whip over the bed — " I have cum to re- organize you! Ha-ave you per-ayed to- night?" I dream'd that night that sumbody had laid a hosswhip over me sev'ril conseckoo- tiv times ; and when I woke up I found she had. I hain't drank much of any thin' since, and if I ever have another reorganiz- in' job on hand I shall let it out. My wife is 52 years old and has alius sus- taned a good character. She's a good cook. Her mother lived to a vener'bleage, and died while in the act of frying slap-jacks for the County Commissioners. And may no rood hand pluk a flour from her toom- stun ! We hain't got any picter of the old lady, because she'd never stand for her am- brotipe, and therefore I can't giv her like- ness to the world through the meejum of the illustrated papers ; but as she wasn't a I 'ii ■n [ I 42 A. WARD TO TEE PRINCE OF WALES; i: brigadicr-gin'ral, particerly, I don't s'pose they'd publish it, any how. It's best to givo a woman consid'blo lee- way. But not too much. A naber of mino, Mr. Roofus Minkins, was onco very sick with the fever, but his wife moved his bed into the door yard while she was cleanin' house. I told Roofus this wasn't the thing, 's^iecially as it was rainin' vi'lently; but he said he wanted to give his wife " a little lee-way." That was 2 mutch. I told Mr? Minkins that her Roofus would die if hu staid out there into the rain much longer, when she said, "it shan't be my fault if he dies unprepaired," at tho same time tossin him his mother's Bible. It was orful ! I stood by, however, and nussedhim as well's I could, but I was a putty wet-nusa I tell you. There's varis ways of managin' a wife, friend Wales, 'but the best and only safe way is to let her do jist about as she wants to. I 'dopted that there plan sum time ago, and it works like a oharm. Remember me kindly to Mrs. Wales, and good luck to you both ! And as years roll by, and accidents begin to happen to you — among which I hope there'll be Twins — you will agree with me that family joys are tho only ones a man can bet on with any oertin- ty of winnin*. It may interest you to know that I'm- prosperin' in a pecoonery pint of view. I make 'bout as much in the cou?s of a year as a Cab'net oflfisser does, & I understan' my bizniss a good deal better than sum of 'em do. Respecks to St. George & the Dragon. " Ever be happy," A. Ward. if 1 |1 ■ Is XIY. AFFAIRS ROUND THE VILLAiSE GREEN. It isn't every one who has a village green to write about. I have one, although I have not seen much of it for some years past. I am back again, now. In the language of the duke who went round with a motto about him, " I am here I" and I fancy I am about as happy a peasant of the vale as ever garnished a melodrama, although I have not as yet danced on my village green as the melo-dramatic peasant usually does on his. It was the case when Rosina Mea- dows left home. The time rolls by serenely now- -so se- renely that I don't care what time it is, which is fortunate, because my watch is at present in the hands of those " men of New York who are called rioters." We met by chance, the usual way — certainly not by ap- pointment — and I brought the interview to a close with all possible despatch. Assur- ing them that I wasn't Mr. Greeley, par- ticularly, and that he had never boarded in the private family where I enjoy the com- forts of a home, I tendered them my watch, and begged they would distribute it judi- ciously among the labouring classes, as I had Been the rioters styled in certain public prints.' Why should I loiter feverishly in Broad- way, stabbing the hissing hot air with the splendid gold-headed cane that was pre- sented to me by the citizens of Waukegan, Illinois, as a slight testimonial of their esteem ? Why broil in my rooms ? You said to me, Mrs. Gloverson, when I took possession of those roc/ms, that no matter how warm it might be, a breeze had a way of blowing into them, and that they were, withal, quite countryfied ; but I am bound to say, Mrs. Gloverson, that there was nothing about them that ever reminded me, in the remotest degree, of daisies or new-mown hay. Thus, with sarcasm, do 1 smash the deceptive Glc jrson. Why stay in New York when I had a village green ? I gave it up, the same as I would an intricate conundrum — and, in short, I am here. Do I miss the glare and crash of the imperial thoroughfare? the milkman, the fiery, untamed omnibus horses, the soda fountains. Central Park, and those things? Yes, I do ; and I can go on missing 'em for quite a spell, and enjoy it. The village from which I write to you is small. It does not tsontain over forty houses, all told; but they are milk-white, with the greenest of blinds, and for the most part are shaded with beautiful elms and willows. To the right of us is a moun- tain — to the left a lake. The village nest- les between. Of course it does. I never read a novel in my life in which the vil- lages didn't nestle. Villages invariably nestle. It is a kind of way they have. We are away from the cars. The iron- horse, as my li*tle sister aptly remarks in her composition On Nature, is never heard to shriek in our midst ; and on the whole I am glad of it. The villagers are kindly people. They are rather incoherent on the subject of the war, but not more so, perhaps, than are people elsewhere. One citizen, who used to sustain a good character, subscribed for the Weekly New York Herald, a few 44 AFPAIilS ROUND THE VILLAGE GREEN. ii I'' ' I r 1 1 fI , f i! months since, nnd went to studying; the militnry ni;ips in that well-known journal for the fireside. I need not inform you that his intellect now totters, and he has mortgaii;ed his farm. In a literary point of view wo are rather bloodthirsty. A pamphlet edition of the life of a cheerful being, who slaupjhtered his wife and child, and then finished himself, is having an ex- tensive sale just now. We know little of Honord de Balzac, and perhaps care less for Victor Hup;o. M. Class's grand search for the Absolute doesn't thrill us in the least; and Jean Valjean, gloomily picking his way through the sewers of Paris, with the spoony young man of the name of Marius upon his back, awakens no interest in our breasts. I say Jean Valjean picked his way gloomily, and I repeat it. No man, under those circum- stances, could have skipped gaily. But this literary business, as the gentleman who married his colored chambermaid aptly ob- served, " is simply a matter of taste." The store — I must not forget the store. It is an object of great interest to me. I usually encounter there, on sunny after- noons, an old Revolutionary soldier, fou may possibly have read about " ^ p-^ther Revolutionary Soldier gone," but this is one who hasn't gone, and, moreover, one who doesn't manifest the slightest intention of going. He distinctly remembers Wash- ington, of course ; they all do ; but what I wish to call special attention to, is the fact that this Revolutionary soldier is one hundred years old, that his eyes are so good that he can read fine print without spectacles — he never used them, by the way — and his mind is perfectly clear. He is a little shaky in one of his legs, but otherwise he is as active as most men of forty-five, and his general health is excel- ent. He uses no tobacco, but for the last twenty years he has drunk one glass of liquor every day — no more, no less. He says he must have his tod. I had begun to have lurking suspicious about this Revo- utionary soldier business, but here is an original Jacobs. But because a man can drink a glirs of liquor a day, and live to be a hundred years old, my young readers must not infer that by drinking two glasses of liquor a day a man can live to bo two hun- dred. " Which, I meanter say, it doesn't follor," as Joseph Gargery might observe. This store, in which may constantly be found calico and nails, and fish, and tobacco in kegs, and snuff in bladders, is a vene- rable establishment. As long ago as 1814 it was an institution. The county troops, on their way to the defence of Portland, then menaced by British ships-of-war, were drawn up in front of this very store, and treated at the town's expense. Citizens will tell you how the clergyman refused to pray for the troops, because he considered the war an unholy one ; and how a some- what eccentric person, of dissolute habits, volunteci d his services, stating that he once had an uncle who was a deacon, and he thought he could make a tolerable prayer, although it was rather out of his line ; and how he prayed so long and absurdly that the Colonel ordered him under arrest, but that even while soldiers stood over him with gleaming bayonets, the reckless being sang a preposterous song about his grand- mother's spotted calf, with its Ri-fol-lol-tid- dery-i-do ; after which he howled dismally. And speaking of the store, reminds me of a little story. The author of " several successful comedies " has been among us, and the store was anxious to know who the stranger was. And therefore the store asked him. " What do you follow, sir?" respectfully enquired the tradesman. " I occasionally write for the stage, 'sir.* " Oh I" returned the tradesman, in a con- fused manner. " He means," said an honest villager, with a desire to help the puzzled tradesman out, " he means that he writes the hand- bills for the stage drivers 1" 4 us. AFFAIRS ROUND THE VILLAGE GREEN. 46 I believe that story is new, although per- haps it is not of an uproariously mirthful character; but one hears stories at the store that are old enough, goodness knows — stories which, no doubt, diverted Methu- selah in the sunny days of his giddy and thoughtless boyhood. There is an exciting scene at the store ocoasionully. Yesterday an athletic pea- sant, in a state of beer, smashed in a coun- ter and emptied two tubs of butter on the floor. His father, a white-haired old man, who was a little boy when the Revolution- ary war closed, but who doesn't remember Washington much, came round in the eve- ning and settled for the damages. " My son," he said, " has considerable origina- lity." I will mention that this same son once told me that he could lick me with one arm tied behind him, and I was so thoroughly satisfied he could, that I told him he needn't mind going for a rope. Sometimes I go a-visiting to a farm- house, on which occasions the parlor is opened. The windows have been close- shut ever since the last visitor was there, end there is a dingy smell that I struggle as calmly as possible with, until I am led to the banquet of steaming hot biscuit and custard pie. If they would only let me sit in the dear old-fashioned kitchen, or on the door-stone — if they knew how dismally the new black furniture looked — but, never mind, I am not a reformer. No, I should rather think not. Gloomy enough, this living on a farm, you perhaps say, in which case you are wrong. I can't exactly say that I pant to be an agriculturist, but I do know that 'ill the main it is an independent, calmly happy sort of life. I can see how the pros- perous farmer can go joyously a-field with the rise of the sun, and how his heart may swell with pride over bountf,ous harvests and sleek oxen. And it must be rather jolly for him on winter evenings to sit before the bright kitchen fire and watch his rosy boys and girls as they study out the charades in the weekly paper, and gradually find out why my first is some- thing that grows in a garden, and my second is a fish. On the green hillside over yonder, there is a quivering of snowy drapery, and bright hair is flashing in the morning sunlight. It is recess, and the Seminary girls are running in the tall grass. A goodly seminary to look at outsider certainly, although I am pained to learn, as I do on unprejudiced authority, that Mrs. Hig^ins, the Principal, is a tyrant, who seeks to crush the £cirk, and trample upon them; but my sorrow is somewhat assuaged by learning that Skimmerhorn, the pianist, is perfectly splendid. Looking at these girls reminds me that I too, was once young — and where are the friends of my youth ? I have found one of 'em, certainly. I saw him rido in the circus the other day on a bareback horse, and even now his name stares at me from yonder board-fence, in green, and blue, and red, and yellow letters. Dashington, the youth with whom I used to read the able orations of Cicero, and who, as a declaimer on exhibition days, used to wipe the rest of us boys pretty handsomely out— well, Dash- ington is identified with the halibut and cod interest -drives a fish-cart, in fact, from a certain town on the coast, back into the interior. Hurbertson, the utterly stupid boy — the lunkhead, who never had his lesson — he's about the ablest lawyer a sister State can boast. Mills is a news- paper man, and is just now editing a Major- General down South. Singlinson, the sweet- voiced boy, whose face was always washed and who was real good, and who was never rude — he is in the penitentiary for putting his uncle's auto- graph to a financial document. Hawkins, the clergyman's son, is an actor, and Wil- liamson, the good little boy who divided his bread and butter with the beggar-man, is a failing merchant, and makes money by it. Tom Slink, who used to smoke short- U 46 AFFAIRS ROUND THE VILLAGE GREEN. I sixes, nnd get acquainted with the little circus boys, is popularly supposed to bo the proprietor of a cheap gaming establish- ment in Boston, where the beautiful but uncertain prop is nightly tossed. Be sure, the Army is represented by many of the friends of my youth, the most of whom have given a good account of themselves. But Chalmerson hasn't done much. No, Chalmerson is rather of a failure. He plays on the guitar and sings love songs. Not that he is a bad man. A kinder- hearted creature never lived, and they say he hasn't yet got over crying for his little curly liaired sister who died ever so long ago. But he knows nothing about business, politics, the world, and those things. He is dull at trade, — indeed, it is a common remark that " everybody cheats Chalmer- son." He came to the party the other evening, and brought his guitar. They wouldn't have him for a tenor in the opera, certainly, for he is shaky in his upper notes ; but if his simple melodies didn't gush straight from the heart, why were my trained eyes wet ? And although some of the girls giggled, and some of the men seemed to pity him, I could not help fancy, ing that poor Chalmerson was nearer heaven than any of us all ! ^Vik *#? Artomua finds it pleasant strolling about his farm with dressing-gown and of gar. Set page 48. xv. AGRICULTURE. The Barclay County Agricultural Soci- ety having seriously invited the author of this volume to address them on the occasion of their next annual Fair, he wrote the President of that Society as follows : New York, June, 12, 1866. Dbar Sir : — I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 5th inst., in ^ich you invite me to deliver an address before your excellent agricultural society. I feel flattered, and think I will come. Perhaps, meanwhile, a brief history of my experience as an .griculturist will be acceptable; and as thi.t history no doubt contains suggestions of value to the entire agricultural community, I have concluded to write to you through the Press. I have been an honest old farmer for some four years. My farm is in the interior of Maine. Unfortunately my lands are eleven miles from the railroad. Eleven miles is quite a distance to haul immense quantities of wheat, com, rye, and oats ; but as I hav'n't any to haul, I do not, after all, suffer much on that account. f 4$ AGRICULTURE. \ My farm is more especially a grass farm. My neighbors told tue so at first, and as an ovidcnco that they were sincere in that opinion, they turned their cows on to it the moment I wont off " lecturing." These cows are now quite fat. I take pride in these cows, in fact, and am glad I own a grass farm. Two years ago I tried sheep-raising. I bought fifty lambs, and turned them loose on my broad and beautiful acres. It was pleasant on bright mornings to BtroU leisurely out on to the farm in my dressing-gown, with a cigar in my mouth, and watch those innocent little lambs us they danced gaily o'er the hills^ide. Watch- ing their saucy capers reminded me of caper sauce, and it occurred to me I should have some very fine eating when they grow up to bo " muttons." My gentle shepherd, Mr. Eli Perkins, said, " We must have some shepherd dogs." I had no very precise idea as to what shopherd dogs were, but I assumed a rather profound look, PART II. TO CALIFORNIA AND BACK Ml « I f a ■1 i^- I. ON THE STEAMER. ^S New York, Oct. 13, 1863. The steamer Ariel starts for California at noon. Her decks are crowded with excited passengers, who insanely undertake to "look after" their trunks and things; and what with our smashing against each other, and the yells of the porters, and the wails over lost baggage, and the crash of boxes, and the roar of the boilers, we are for the time being about as unhappy a lot of maniacs as were ever thrown together. I am one of them. I am rushing round with a glaring eye in search of a box. Great jam, in which I find a sweet young lady, with golden hair, clinging to me fondly, and saying, " Dear George, fare- well !"— Discovers her mistake and disap- pears. I should like to be George some more. Confusion so great thai I seek refuge in a state-room which contains a single lady of forty-five summers, who says, " Base man ! leave me !" I leave her. By-and-by we cool down, and become somewhat egulated. Hext Day. When the gong sounds for breakfast we arc fairly out on the sea, which runs roughly, and the Ariel rocks wildly. Many of the passengers are sick, and a young naval officer establishes a reputation as a wit by carrying to one of the invalids a plate of raw salt pork, swimming in cheap molasses. I am not sick; so I roll round the deck in the most cheerful sea-dog manner. The next day and the next pass by in a serene manner. The waves are smooth now, and we can all eat and sleep. We might have enjoyed ourselves very well, I fancy, if the Ariel, whose capacity was about three hundred and fifty passengers, had not on this occasion carried nearly nine hundred, a hundred at least of whom were children of an unpleasant age. Captain Semmes captured the Ariel once, and it is to be deeply regretted that that thrifty buccaneer hadn't made mince-meat of her, because she is a miserable tub at best, and hasn't much more right to be afloat than a second-hand coffin hai, I do not know her proprietox-, Mr. C. Vanderbilt. But I know of several excellent mill privileges in the Stat« of Maine, and not one of them is so thoroughly Bani'd as he was all the way from New York to Aspinwall. I had far rather say a pleasant thing than a harsh one; but it is due to the large number cI respectaWe ladies and gentle- meu who were on board the steamer Ariel with me, that I state here tl' the accom- modations on that steamer wtre very vile. If I did not so state, my conscience would sting me through life, and I should have horrid dreams like Richard III. Esq. The proprietor apparently thought we were undergoing transportation fc. life to some lonely island, and the very waiters who brought us meats that any warden of any penitentiary would blush to offer con- victs, seemed to think it was a glaring error our not being in chains. As a specimen of the liberal manner in which this steamer was managed I will mention that the purser (a very pleasp.at iif 'f ; 1 54 ON THE STEAMER. person, by the way) was made to unite the positions of purser, baggage clerk, and doc- tor; and I one day had a lurking suspicion that he was among tlic waiters in the dining-cabin, disguised in a white jacket and slipshod pumps. sinner may return as long as the gas-meters work well, or words to that effect. I have spoken my piece about the Ariel, and I hope Mr. Vanderbilt will reform ere it is too late. Dr. Watts says the vilest We were so densely crowded on board the Ariel that I cannot conscientiously say we were altogether happy. And sea-voyages at best are a little stupid. On the whole I should prefer a voyage on the Erie Canal, where there isn't any danger, and where you can carry picturesque scenery along with you — so to speak. [ li . . U:u gas-meters on board iously say 3a-voyages the whole rie Canal, nd where ery along An inebriated Californian minor desires to be an angel, and with the angels stand.-^e.pa^* 56. II. THE ISTHMUS. On the ninth day we reach Aspinwall in the Republic of Grenada. The President of New Grenada is a Central American named Mosquero. I was told that he de- rived quite a portion of his income by carrying passengers' valises and things from the steamer to the hotels in Aspinwall. It was an infamous falsehood. Fancy A. Lincoln carrying carpetrbags and things ! and indeed I should rather trust him with them than Mosquero, because the former gentleman, as I think some one has before observed, is « honest." I intrust my^bag'to a spekled native, who confidentially ,'?ives me to understand that he is the only strictly honest person in As- pinwall. The rest, he says, are niggers— which the colored people of the istlmius re- gard as about as schating a thing as they can say of one another. I examine the New Grenadian flag, which waves from the ohamber- window of a re- freshment saloon. It is of simple design. You can make one. Take half of a cotton shirt, that has been worn two months, and dip it in molasses of : I ;: a ^1 ■' I' i-i- > 1 J i 1; -- i f ' 1- i 1 r^ ?: Mil til 66 THE ISTHMUS. the day & Martin brand. Then let the flies gambol over it for a few days, and you have it. It is an emblem of Sweet Liber- ty. At the Howard House the man of sin rubbeth the hair of the horse to the bowels of the cot, and our girls are waving their lily-white hoofs in the dazzling waltz. We have a quadrille, in which an En- glish person slips up and jams his massive brow against my stomach. He apologizes, and I say, " all right, my lord." I subse- quently ascertained that he superintended the shipping of coals for the British steam- ers, and owned fighting cocks. The ball stops suddenly. Great excitement. One of our passen- gers intoxicated and riotous in the street. Openly and avowedly desires the entire Re- public of New Grenada to " come on." In case they do come on, agrees to make it lively for them. Is quieted down atlaat, and marched off to prison, by a squad of Grenadian troops. Is musical as he passes the hotel, and smiling sweetly upon the la- dies and children on the balcony, expresses a distinct desire to be an Angel, and with the Angels stand. After which he leaps nimbly into the air, and imitates the war- cry of the red man. The natives amass wealth by carrying valises, &c., then squander it for liquor. My native comes to me as I sit on the ve- randa of the Howard House smoking a cigar, and solicits the job of taking my things to the cars next morning. He is intoxicated, and has been fighting, to the palpable detriment of his wearing apparel ; for he has only a pair of tattered pantaloons and a very small quantity of shirt left. fully. One bold rat gnaws at the feet of a young Englishman in the party. This was more than the young Englishman could stand, and rising from his bed he asked us if New Grenada wasn't a Republic ? We said it was. " I thought so," he said. " Of course I mean no disrespect to the United States of America in the remark, but I think I prefer a bloated monarchy !" He smiled sadly — then handing his purse and his mother's photograph to another English person, he whispered softly, " If I am eaten up, give them to Me mother — tell her I died like a true Briton, with no faith whatever in the success of n :epublican form of government ! And then he crept back to bed again. We go to bed. Eight of us are ass^ned to a small den up-stairs, with only two lame apologies for beds. Mosquitoes and even rats annoy us fear- We start at seven the next morning for Panama. My native comes bright and early to transport my carpet sack to the railway station. His clothes have suffered still more during the night, for he comes to me now dressed only in a small rag and one boot. At last we are off. " Adios, Americanos," the natives cry ; to which I pleasantly re- ply, " Adous ! and long may it be before you have a chance to Do us again." The cars are comfortable on the Panama railway, and the country through which we pass is very beautiful. But it will not do to trust it much, because it breeds fevers and otho- unpleasant disorders, at all sea- sons of the year. Like a girl we most all have known, the Isthmus is fair but false. There are mud huts all along the route, and half naked savages gaze patronizingly upon us from their door-ways. An elderly lady in spectacles appears to be much scan- dalized by the scant dress of these people, and wants to know why the select men don't put stop to it. From this, and a remark she incidentally makes about her son who has invented a washing machine which will wash, wring, and dry a shirt in t«n minutes, THE ISTHMUS. 67 I infer that she is from the hills of Old New England, like the Hutchinson family. of me, shedding tears as he put it in his pocket. The Central American is lazy. The only exercise he ever takes is to occasion- ally produce a Revolution. When his feet begin to swell, and there are premonitory symptoms of gout, he " revolushes" a spell, and then serenely returns to his cigarette and hammock under the palm trees. These Central American Republics are queer concerns. I do not of course precise- ly know what a last year's calf's ideas of immortal glory may be, but probably they are about as lucid as those of a Central American in regard to a republican form of government. And yet I am told they are a kindly peo- ple in the main. I never met but one of them — a Costa Rican, on board the Ariel. He lay sick with fever, and I went to him and took his hot hand gently |in mine. I shall never forget his look of gratitude. And the next day he borrowed five dollars At Panama wt lost several of our pas- sengers, and among them three Peruvian ladies, who go to Lima, the city of volcanic irruptions and veiled black eyed beauties. The Senoritas who leaves us at Panama are splendid creatures. They learned me Spanish, and in the soft moonlight we walk- ed on deck and talked of the land of Pizar- ro. (You know old Piz. conquered Peru ! and although he was not educated at West Point, he had still some military talent.) I feel as though I had lost all my relations, including my grandmother and the cooking stove, when these gay young Senoritas go away. They do not go to Peru on a Peruvian bark, but on an English steamer. We find the St. Louis, the steamer awaiting us at Panama, a cheerful and well appoinied-boat, and commanded by Capt. Hudson. V i 111 r-, ■ ■ . V .1 i I ! I III. MEXICO. We make Acapulco, a Mexican coast town of some importance, in a tew days, and all go ashore. The pretty peasant girls peddle neck- laces made of shells, and oranges, in the streets of Acapulco, on steamer days. ' liey are quite naive about it. Handing you a necklace they will say, "Me give you pres-en<, Senor," and then retire with alow curtsey. Returning, however, in a few moments, they say (juite sweetly, " You give me pres-en<, Senor, of quarter dollar !" which you at once do, unless you have a heart of stone. Acapulco was shelled by the French a year or so before our arrival there, and they eflFected a lauding. But the gay and gal- lant Mexicans peppered them so persistent- ly and effectually from the mountains near by, that they concluded to sell out and leave. Napoleon has no right in Mexico. Mex- ico may deserve a licking. That is possi- ble enough. Most people do. But nobody has any right to lick Mexico but the Unitr ed States. We have a right, I flatter my- self, to lick this entire continent, including ourselves, any time we want to. IS The signal gun is fired at 11, and we go off to the steamer in small boats. In our boat is an inebriated United States official, who flings his spectacles overboard, and sings a flippant and absurd song about his grandmother's spotted calf, with his ri- fol-lol-tiddery-i-do. After which he crumb- les, in an incomprehensible manner, into the bottom of the boat, and howls dismal- We reach Mauzanillo, another coast place, twenty-four hours after leaving Acapulco. 3Ianzanillo is a little Mexican village, and looked very wretched indeed, sweltering away there on the hot sands. But it is a port of some importance nevertheless, be- cause a great deal of merchandise finds its way to the interior from there. The white and green flag of Mexico floats from a red steam tug (the navy of Mexico, by the way, consists of two tugs, a disabled raft, and a basswood life-preserver) and the Captain of the Port comes off to us in his small boat, climbs up the side of the St. Louis, and folds the healthy form of Captain Hudson to his breast. There is no wharf here, and we have to anchor off the town. There was a wharf, but the enterprising Mexican peasantry, who subsist by poling merchandise ashore in dug-outs, indignant- ly tore it up. We take on here some young ]\Iexican8, from Colima, who are going to California. They are of the better class, and one young man (who was educated in Madrid) speaks English rather better than I write it. Be careful not to admire any article of an educated Mexican's dress, be- cause if you do he will take it right off and give it to you, and sometimes this might be awkward. I said: "What a beautiful cravat you wear!" "It ie yours!" he exclaimed, quickly un- buckling it ; and I could not induce him to take it back again. I am glad I did not tell his sister, who MEXICO. 69 was with him, and with whom I was lucky enough to get acquainted, what a beautiful white hand she hud. She might have giv- en it to mo on the spot ; and that, as she had soft eyes, a queenly form, and a half million or so in her own right, would have made me feel bad. Reports reach us here of high-handed robberies by the banditti ail along the road to the City of Mexico. Thoy steal clothes as well as coin. A icw days since the mail coach entered the city with all the pas.sen- gers stark-naked !" They nmst have felt mortified. / I ! I-- I fi' !■ IV. CALIFORNIA. We ronch San Francisco one Sunday af- ternoon. I nni driven to the Occidental Hotel by a kind-hearted hncknian, who states tliat inasmuch as I have come out there to amuse people, lie will only charge me five dollars. I pay it in gold, of course, because greenbacks are not current on the I'acific coa.st. Many of the citizens of San Francisco remember the Sabbath day to keep it jolly ; and the theatres, the circus, the minstrels, and the music halls are all in full blast to- night. I "compromise " and go to the Chinese theatre, thinking perhaps there can be no great harm in listening to worldly senti- ments when expressed in a language I don't understand. The Chinaman at the door takes my tick- et with the remark, " Ki hi-hi ki ! Shoo- lah !" And I tell him that on the whole I think he is right. The Chinese play is "continued," like a Ledger story, from night to night. It com- mences with the birth of the hero or hero- ine, which interesting event occurs publicly on the stage ; and then follows him or her down to the grave, where it cheerfully ends. Sometimes a Chinese play lasts six months. The play I am speaking of had been going on for about two months. The heroine had grown up into womanhood, and was on the point, as I inferred, of being married to a young Chinaman in spangled pantaloons and a long black tail. The bride's father comes in with his arms full of tea chests, and be- stows them, with his blessing, upon the hap- py couple. As this play is to run four months longer, however, and a.s my time is limited, I go away at the close of the second act, while tlie orchestra is performing an overture on gongs and one-stringed fiddles. The door-keeper again says, " Ki hi-hi ki I Shoolah !" adding, this time however, " Chow-wow.'' I agree with him in regard to the ki hi and hi ki, but tell him I don't feel altogether certain about the chow-wow. To Stockton fror^i San Francisco. Stockton is a beautiful town, that has ceat"^d to think of becoming a very large place, and has quietly settled down into a state of serene prosperity. I have my boots repaired here by an artist who informs me that he studied in the penitentiary ; and I visit the lunatic asylum, where I encounter a vivacious maniac who invites me to ride in a chariot drawn by eight lions and a rhi- noceros. John Phoenix was once stationed at Stock- ton, and put his mother aboard the San Francisco boat one morning with the spark- ling remark, " Dear mother, be virtuous and you will be happy !" Forward to Sacramento — which is the capital of the Statu, and a very nice old town. They had a flood here some years ago, during which several blocks of buildings sailed out of town and have never been heard from since. A Chinaman concluded to leave in a wash-tub, and actually set sail in one of those fragile barks. A drowning man hailed him piteously, thus : " Throw me a rope, oh throw me a rope !" To which the Chinaman excitedly cried, " No have got — how can do ? " and went on, on with CALIFORNIA. ei the howling current. lie more ; but a few weeks after wnH never seen lis tail was found by sonio Sabbath-school children in the north part cf the Statihoot folks lierc somewliat, and the law is rather partial thau otherwise to first-chiRs murderers. I visit the territorial Prison, and the Warden points out the prominent convicts to me, thus : " This man's crime was horse-stealing. He is here for life. '' This man is in for murder. He is here for three years." But slux)ting isn't as popular in Nevada as it once was. A few years since they used to have a dead man for breakfast every moraing. A i-eformed desperado told me that he supposed lie had killed men enough to stock a grave-yard. •• A fooling of re- morse," he said, "sometimes comes over nje ! But I'm an altered man now. I hain't killed a man tor over two' weeks ! What'll yer poison yourself with?" ho ad- ded, dealing a resonant blow on the bar. There used to live near Carson City a notorious desperado, who never visited town without killing somebody. He would call for liquor at some drinking-house, and if anybody declined joining him he would at once commence shooting. But one day ho shot a man too many. Going into the St. Nicholas drinking-house he asked the Com- pany present to join him in a North Amer- ican drink. One individual was rash enough to refuse. With a look of sorrow rather than of anger the desperado revealed his revolver, and said, " Good God ! Must I kill a man every time I come to Carson ?" and .so saying he fired and killed the indi- vidual on the spot. But this was the last murder the bloodthirsty miscreant ever com- mitted, for the aroused citizens pursued him with rifles and shot hin> down in his own door-yard. I lecture in the theatre at Carson, which opens out >,{" a drinking and gambling house. On each side of the door where my ticket- taker stands there arc montti-boards and sweat-cloths, but they arc deserted to-night, the gamblers being evidently of a literary turn 01 iiiind. Five years ago there was only a pony-path over the precipitous hills on which now stands the marvellous city of Virginia, with its population of twelve thousand persons and perhaps more. Virginia, with its stately warehou.ses and gay shops; its splendid streets, paved with silver ore ; its banking houses and faro- banks; its attractive coffee- houses and elegant theatre; its music halls and its throe daily new.spapers. Virginia is very wild, but I believe it is now pretty generally believed that a mining city must go through with a certain amount of unadulterated cusscdness before it can settle down and behave itself in a conserva- tive and seemly manner. Virginia has grown up in the heart of the richest silver regions in the woild, the El Dorado of the hour ; and of the immense numbers who arc swarming thither not more than half carry their mother's Bible or any settled religion with them. The gambler and the strange mMiBSiBm. ■i ai f il'. i k i 1? 1 ( { t,' I) 4 u y h 1 f'^ o 64 WASHOE. woman as naturally seek the new sensational town as ducks take to that element which is fco useful for making cocktails and bath- ing one's feet; and these people make the new town rather warm for awhile. But by- and-by the earnest and honest citizens get tired of this ungodly nonsense, and organize a Vigilance Conmilttee, which hangs the more vicious of the pestifer, ns crowd to a soi'f apple-tree; and then come good niuni- c'.pal laws, ministers, meeting-houses, and a tolerably sober police in blue coats with brass buttons. About five thousiind s'blc- hodied men are in the mines underground here ; some as far down as five hundred feet. The G('Uld & Cuiry 3Iino employs nine hundred men, and annually turns out about twenty million dollars worth of " dcmnition gold and silver," as Mr. Mantaliui might express it — though silver chiefly. Th(;ie are many other mines here and at Gold-VIill (another startling silver city, a mile from here), all of which do nearly as well. The silver is melted down into bricks of the size of common house bricks ; then it is loaded into huge wagons, each drawn by "ight and twelve mules, and sent off to San Francisco. To a young person fresh from the land of green-oacks this careless manner of carting off solid silver is rather of a startler. It is related that a young man who came Overland from New HaTupsliire u few monihi before my arrival became so excited :.bout it that ho fell in a fit, with the name of his Uncle Amos on his lips ! The hardy miners supposed he wanted his uncle there to see the great sight, and faint with him. But this was pure conjecture al'oir all. ^ Tisit several of the adjacent mining towns, but I do not go to Aurora. No I tliink not. A lecturer on psychology was killed there the other night by the playful discharge of a horse-pistol in the hands of a degenerate and intoxicated Spaniard. This circumstance and a rumor that th' citirens are agin literature, induce me to go back to Virginia. T had pointed out to me at a Restaurant a man who had killed four men in street broils, and who had that very day cut his own brother's breast open in a dangerous manner with a small supper knife. lie was a gentleman, however. I heard him tell some men so. He admitted it himself. And I don't think he would lie about a little thing like that. The theatre at Virginia will attract the attention of the stranger, because it is an unusually elegant affair of the kind, and would be so regarded anywhere. It was built, of course, by Mr. Thomas Maguire, the Napoleonic manager of the Pacific, and who has built over twenty theatres in his time, and will perhaps build as many more, unless somebody stops him — which, by the way, will not be a remarkably easy thing to do. As soon as a mining camp begins to as- sume the proportions of a city ; at about the tune the whisky vender draws his cork, or the gambler spreads his green cloth, Maguire opens a theatre, and with a hastily- organized " Vigilance Committee " of ac- tors, commences to execute Shakespeare. '.^>i 1 -.-I-**--!' ,-^•=■ idjacent mining Aurora, No I psychology was t by the playful n the hands of a Spaniard. This that thi citieens me to go back to at a Kestaurant ir men in street very day cut his I in a dangerous r knife. He was [ heard him tell itted it himself. 1 lie about a little I will attract the because it is an )f the kind, and ywhere. It was 'homas Maguirc, f the Pacific, and y theatres in his ild as many more, u — which, by »he ubly easy thing to imp begins to as- a city ; at about er draws his cork, his green cloth, and with ahastily- Dmmittee " of ac- ite Shakespeare. VL MR. PEPPER. My arrival at Virginia City was signal- ized by the following incident : I had no sooner achieved my room in the garret of the International Hotel than I was called upon by an intoxicated man, who said he was an Plditor. Knowing liow rare it was for an Editor to bo under the blighting influence of either spirituous or malt liquors, I received this statement doubtfully. But I said : '•What name?" Wait !" he said, and went out. I heard him pacing unsteadily up and down the Iiall outside. In ten minutes he returned, and said : " Pepper !" Pepper was indeed his name. He had been out to see if lie could remember it ; and he was so flu.shed with liis success that he repeated it joyously several times, and then, with a short laugh, he went away. I had often heard of a man being '■ so drunk that he didn't know what town he lived in," but here was a man so hideously inebriated that he didn't know what his name was. I saw him no more, but I heard from him. For he published a notice of my lecture, in which he said I had n dissipated air I'-. m :l:-':'- VII. HORACE GREELEY'S RIDE TO PLACERVILLE. 11 1' When Mr. Greeley was in California, ovations awaited him at every town. He had written powerful leaders in the Tribune in favor of the Pacific Railroad, which has greately endeai'ed him to the citizens of the Golden State. And therefore they made much of him when lie went to see them. At one town the enthusastic populace tore his celebrated white coat to pieces, and carried the pieces home to remember him by. The citizens of Placervillc prepared to fete the great journalist, and an extra coach, with extra relays of horses, was chartered of the California Stage Company to carry him from Folsom to Placervillc — distance, forty miles. The extra was in some way delayed, and did not leave Folsom until late in the afternoon. Mr. Greeley was to be feted at 7 o'clock that evening by the citizens of Placervillc, and it was altogether neces- sary that he should be there by that hour. So the Stiige Company said to Henry 3Iouk, the driver of the extra, " Henry, this great man must be there by 7 to-night.' And Henry answered, " The great man shall be there.' "The roads were in an awful state, and during the first few miles out of Folsom slow progress was made. " Sir, said Mr. Greely, " are you aware that I must be at Placervillc at 7 o'clock to-night ?" "I've got my orders!" laconically re- turned Henry Monk. Still the coach dragged slowly forward. " Sir," .said Mr. Greeley, " this is not a trifling matter, I must be thereat 7 !" Again came the answer, " I've got my orders !" But the speed was not increa,sed, and Mr. Greeley chafed away another half hour ; when, as he was again about to remonstrate with the driver, the horses suddenly started into a furious run, and all sorts of encourag- ing yells filled the air from the throat of Henry Monk. " That is right, my good fellow !" cried Mr. Greeley. "I'll give you ten dollars when we get to Placervillc. Now we are going !" They were indeed, and at a terrible speed. Crack, crack ! went the whip, and again '• that voice" split the air. ■' Git up ! Hi yi! G'long! Yip— yip !" And on they tore, over stones and ruts, up hill and down, at a rate of speed never before acheived by stage horses. Mr. Greeley, who had been bouncing from one end of the coach to the other like an india-rubber ball, managed to get his head out of the window, when he said : "Do — on't — on't — on'tyou — u — u think we — e — e — e shall get there by seven if we do — out — on't go so fast ?" "I've got my orders!" That was all Henry IVIonk said. And on tore the coach. It was becoming serious. Already the journalist was extremely sore from the terrible jolting, and again his head "might have been seen" at the window. "Sir," he said, "I don't care — care — air if we don't get there at seven !" "I h.ive got my orders !" Fresh horscf?. Forward again, faster than before. Over rocks and stumps, on one of which the coach narrowly escaped turning a sumersct. " See here ! " shrieked Mr. Greeley, " I don't care if we don't get there at all I " " I've got my orders ! I work for the HORACE GREELEY'S RIDE TO PLACERVILLE. 67 \yi'r^' <■. Horace Grocloy'sgay auil festive adventures on the overland route from CaXit'ovxiia.— St.- page 00. Californy Stage Company, /do. That's wot I work for. They said, it this man through by '^ving.' An' this man's goin' through. You 'let ! Gcrlong ! Whoo-op ! " Another friy ful jolt, and Mr. Greeley's bald head suddi v found its way through the roof of the c :h, amidst the crash of small timbers and the ripping of strong canvas. " Stop, you maniac ! " he roared. Again answered Henry Monk : " I've got my orders ! Keep your seat, Horace ! " At Mud Springs, a village a few miles from Placerville, they met a large delegation of the citizens of Placerville, who had come out to meet the celebrated editor, and escort him into town. There was a military com- pany, a brass band, and a six-horse wagon- load of beautiful damsels in milk-white dresses, representing all the States in the Union. It was nearly dark now, but the deleg'ttiou were amply provided with torches, and bonfires blazed all along the road to Placerville. The citizens met the coach in thcjout- skirts of Mud Springs, and Mr. Monk reined in his foam-covered steeda. " Is Mr. Greeley on board? " asked the chairman of the committee. " Ha was a/eio miles back f " snld Mr. Monk ; " yes," he added, after looking 68 HORACE GREELEY'S RIDE TO PLACERVILLE. t * ( ?' down through the hole which the fearful jolting had made in the coachroof — " yes, I can see him ! lie is there ! " " 3Ir. Greeley," said the Chairman of the Committee, presenting himself at the window of the coach, " Mr. Greeley, sir ! We arc come to most cordially welcome you, sir why, God bless me, sir, you arc bleeding at the nose ! " " I've got my orders ! " cried Mr. Monk. " My orders is as follers : Git liim there by seving ! It wants a quarter to seving. Stand out of the way! " " But, sir," exclaimed the Committee- man, seizing the off leader by the reins — " Mr. IMonk, we are come to escort him into town ! Look at the procession, sir, and the brass band, and the people, and the young women, sir ! " " Fve got m;/ orders ! " screamed Mr. Monk. ' My orders don't say nothin' about no brass bands and young women. My orders says, 'git liim there by se/ing! ' Let go them lines ! Clear the way there ! Whoo-ep! Keep YOUR SEAT, Horace!" and the coacli dashed wildly through tlie procession, upsetting a portion of the brass band, and violently grazing the wagon which contained the beautiful young women in white. Years lience grey-haired men, who were little boys in this procession, will tell their grandchildren how this stage tore through Mud Springs, and how Horace Greeley's bald head ever and anon .showed itself, like ii wild apparition, above the coach-roof. Mr. Monk was on time. There is a tradition that Mr. Greeley was very indig- nant for awhile ; then he laughed, and finally presented Mr. Monk with a bran new suit of clothes. Mr. Monk himself is still in the employ of the California Stage Company, and is rather fond of relating a story that ha? made him famous all over the Pacific coast. But he says he yields to no man in his admiration for Horace Greeley. ' l?ii I ; J I VIII TO REESE RIVER. I LEAVE Virginia for Great Salt Lake City, via the Reese River Silver Diggings. There are eight passengers of us inside the coach — which, by the way, isn't a coach, but a Concord covered mad wagon. Among the passengers is a genial man of the name of Ryder, who has achieved a wide-spread reputation as a strangler of unpleasant bears in the mountain fastnesses of California, and who is now an eminent Reese River miner. Wo ride night and day, passing through the land of the Piute Indians. Reports reach us that fifteen hundred of these sava- ges are on the Rampage, under the com- mand of a red usurper named BuflFalo-Jim, who seems to be a sort of Jeff Davis, inas- much as he and his followers have seceded from the regular Piute organization. The seceding savages have announced that they shall kill and scalp all pale-fuces (which makes our faces pale, I reckon) found loose in that section. We find the guard doubled at all the stations where we change horses, and our passengers nervously examine their pistols and readjust the long glittering knives in their belts. I feel in my pockets to see if the key which unlocks the carpet-bag containing my revolvers is all right — for I had rather brilliantly locked my deadly weapons up in that article, which was strap- ped with the other baggage to the rack behind. The passengers frown on me for this carelessness, but the kind-hearted Ryder gives mea small double-barrelled gun, with which I narrowly escape murdering my beloved friend Hingstou in cold blood. I am not used to guns and things, and in changing tho position of this weapon I pulled the trigger rather harder than was necessary. When this wicked rebellion first broke out I was omo.ig the first to stay at homo — chiefly because of my utter ignorance of firearms. I should be valuable to the Army as a Brigadier-General only so far as the moral influence of my name went. However, wc pass safely through the land of the Piutes, unmolested by Buffalo James. This celebrated savage can read and write, and is quite an orator, like IVl«tamora, or the last of the Wau^panoags. He went on to Washington a few years ago, and called Mr. Buchanan his Great Father, and the members of the Cabinet his dear Brothers. They gave him a great many blankets, and he returned to his beautiful hunting grounds and went to killing stage-drivers. He made such a fine impression upon Mr. Buchanan during his sojourn in AVashington that that statesman gave a young English tourist, who crossed the plains a few years since, a letter of introduction to him. The great Indian chief read the English person's letter with con- siderable emotion, and then ordered him scalped, and stole his trunks. '" Mr. Ryder knows me only as "Mr. Brown," and he refreshes mo during the journey by quotations from my books and lectures. > " Never seen Ward ? '* he said. •' Oh no." " Ward says he likes little girls, but helikes lai^e girls just as well. Haw, haw haw ! I should like to see the d fool!" ^ I It I I hi r'i r 70 TO REESE RIVER. He referred to me. He even woke me up in the middle of the night to iell me one of Ward's jokes. I lecture at Big Creek. Big Creek is a straggling, wild little vil- lage ; and the house in which I had the ho- nor of speaking a piece had no other floor than the bare earth. The roof was of sage brush. At one end of the building a huge wood fire blazed, which, with half-a dozen tallow-candlos, afforded all the illumi- nation desired. The lecturer spoke from behind the drinking bar. Behind him long rows of decanters glistened; above him hung pictures of race-horses and prize-fight- ers; and beside him, in his shirt-sleeves, and wearing a cheerful smile, stood the bar- keeper. My speeches at the Bar before this had been of an elegant character, per- haps, but quite brief They never extend- ed beyond " 7 don't care if I do," " No sugar in mine, ' and short gems of a like character. I had a good audience at Big Creek, who seemed to be pleased, the bar-keeper especially ; for at the close of any " point " that I sought to make, he Avould deal the counter a vigorous blow with his fist and exclaim, " Good boy from the New England States ! listen to William W. Shakespeare !" Back to Austin. We lose our way, and hitching our liorses to a tree, go in search of some human beings. The night is very dark. We soon stumble upon a camp-fire, and an unplea.santly modulated voice asks us to say our prayers, adding that we are on the point of going to Glory with our boots on. I think perhaps there may be some truth in this, as the mouth of a horse-pistol al- most grazes my forehead, while immediate- ly behind the butt of that death-dealing weapon 1 perceive a large man with black whiskers. Other large men begin to assem- ble, also with horse-pistols. Dr. Kingston hastily explains, while I go back to tlic carriage to say my prayers, where there is more room. The men were minei's on a prospecting tour, and as we advanced upon them without sending them word they took us for highway robbers. I must not forget to say that my brave and kind-hearted friend Ryder, of the mail coach, who had so often alluded to " Ward" in our ride from Vii-ginia to Austin, was among my hearers at Big Creek. He had discovered who I was, and informed me that he had debated whether to woUop me or give me some rich silver claims.. II 1'; i t\ i,ii:' 1 IX. GREAT SALT LAKE CITY. How was I to be greetefl by the IVIor- mons ■? That was rather an exciting ques- tion with mc. I had been told on the plains that a certain humorous sketch of mine (written some years before) had greatly incensed the Saints, and a copy of the Sacramento Union newspaper had a few days before fallen into my hands, in which a Salt Lake correspondent quite clearly intimated that my reception at the new Zion might be unpleasantly warm. I ate my dinner moodily and sent out for some cigars. The venerable clerk brought me six. They cost only two dollars. They were procured at a store near by. The Salt Lake House sells neither cigars nor liquors. I smoke in my room, having no heart to mingle with the people in the office. Dr. Hingston "thanks God he never wrote against the Monnons," and goes out in search of a brother Englishman. Comes back at night and says there is a prejudice against me. Advi.ses me to keep in. Has heard that the Mormons thirst for my blood and are on the look out for me. Under these circumstances I keep in. The next day is Sunday, and we go to the Tabernacle, in the morning. The Tab- ernacle is located on street, and is a long rakish building of adobe, capable of seating some twenty-five hundred persons. There is a wide platfonn and a rather large pulpit at one end of the building, and at the other end is another platform for the choir. A young Irishman of the name of Sloan preaches a sensible sort of discourse, to which a Presbyterian could hardly have objected. Last night this same Mr. Sloan enacted a character in a rollicking Irish farce at the theatre! And he played it well, I was told : not so well of course as the great Dan Bryant could, but I fancy he was more at home in the Morujon pulpit than Daniel would have been. The Mormons,by the way,are preeminent- ly an amu-sement-loving people, and the El- dei-s pray for the success of their theatre with as much earnestness as they pray for anything else. The congregation doesn't startle us. It is known, I fancy, that the heads of the church are to be absent to-day, and the at- tendance is slim. There are no ravishing- ly beautiful women present, and no positive- ly ugly ones. The men are fiiir to middling. They will never be slayu in cold blood for their beauty, nor shut up in jail for their homeliness. There are some good voices in the choir to-day, but the orchestral accompaniment is unusually slight. Sometimes they introduce a full brass and string band in Church. Brigham Young says the devil has mono- polized the good music long enough, and it is high time the Lord had a portion of it. Therefore trombones are tooted on Sundays in Utah as well as on other days ; and there are some splendid musicans there. The or- chestra in Brigham Young's theatre is quite equal to any in Broadway. There is a youth in Salt Lake City (I forget his name) who plays the comet like a j^orth American angel. Mr. Stenliouse relieves me of any anxi- ety I had felt in regard to having my swan- like throat cut by the Danitcs, but thinks my wholesale denunciation of a people I had never .seen was rather hasty. The follow- ing is the paragraph to which the Saints h 72 GREAT SALT LAKE CITY. objected. It occurs in aii " Artcnms Ward' paper on Brighani Young, written sonic years ago : " I girded up my Lions and fled the Seen. I packed up my duds and left Salt Lake which is a 2ud Soddum and Germorer, in- habited by as theavin' & onprincipled a set of retchis as ever drew Breth in enyspoton the Globe." I had forgotten all about this, and as Elder Stenhousc read it to mo " my feelings may be better imagined, than described," to use language I think I have heard before. I pleaded, however, that i'- was a purely burlesque sketch, and that this strong par- agraph should not be interpreted literally at all. The elder didn't seem to see it in that light, but wc parted pleasantly. t I I :i' ilM-x t: ! r~it as X. THE MOUNTAIN FEVER. I go back to my hotel and go to bed, and I do not get up again for two weary weeks. I have the mountain fever (so called in Utah though it closely resembles the old style, typhus) and in my case is pronounced danger- ous. I don't regard it so. I don't in fact regard anything. I am all right myself. My poor Kingston shakes his head sadly, and Dr. Williamson, from Camp Douglas, pours all kinds of bitter stuff down my throat. I drink his health in a dose of the cheerful beverage known as jalap, and thresh the sheets with my hot liandss. I address large assemblages, who have somehow got into my room, and I charge Dr. Williamson with the murder of Luce, and 3Ir. Irwin the actor with the murder of Shakspeare. I have a lucid spell now and then, in one of which James Townsend, the landlord, enters. He whispers, but I hear what he says far too distinctly : '' This man can have any- thing and everything he wants ; but I'm no hand for a sick room. / never could see anybodxj die." That was cheering, I thought. The no- ble Califomian, Jerome Davis — he of the celebrated ranch — sticks by me like a twin brother, although I fear that in my hot frenzy I more than once anathematized his kindly eyes. Nurses and watchers, Gentile and Mormon, volunteer their service in hoops, and rare wines are sent to mc from all over the city, which if I cant drink, the venerable and Excellent Thomas can easy. I lay there in this wild broiling way for nearly two weeks, when one morning I woke up with my head clear and an immense plaster on my stomach. The plaster had operated. I was so raw that I could by no. means say to Dr Williamson, Well done, thou good and faithful servant. I wished he had lathered me before he plastered mc. I was fearfully weak. I was frightfully thin. With either one of my legs you could have cleaned the stem of a meer- schaum pipe. 3Iy backbone had the appear- ance of a clothesline with a (juantity of English walnuts strung upon it. My face wa.s almost gone. My nose was so sharp that I didn't dare stick it into other people's business for fear it would stay there. But by borrowing my agent's over- coat I succeeded in producing a .shadow. I have been looking at Zion all day, and my feet are sore and my legs arc weary. I go back to the Salt Lake House, and have a talk with landlord Townsend about the State of 3Iainc. He came from that bleak region, having skinned his infantile eyes in York County. He was at Nauvoo, and was forced to sell out his entire property there for 850. He has thrived in Utah, however, and is much thought of by the Church. He is an Elder, and preaches occasionally. He has only two wives. I hear lately that he has sold his property for $25,000 to Brigham Young, and gone to England to make converts. How impres- sive he may be as an expounder of tho 3\Ior- mon gospel, I don't know. His beef-steaks and chicken-pies, however, were first-rate. James and I talk about Maine, and cor- dially agree that so far as pine boards ..d horse-mackerel are concerned it is equalled by few and excelled by none. There is no I. (I ■ 1 ■ ",■' t : ^^ 1 i: m 1' ) ■ i 1 •^r 1 m '' 74 THE MOUNTAIN FEVER, place like homo, as Clura, the Maid of Milan, very justly observes ; and while J. Town- send would be tinhappy in Maine, his heart evidently beats back there now and then. I heard the love of homo oddly illustrated in Oregon, one night, in a country bar-room. Some well dressed men, in a state of strong drink, were boasting of their respective places of nativity. " I," said one, "was born in Mississippi, where the sua ever shines and tho magno- lias bloom all the happy year round. " " And I," said another, "was born in Kentucky— Kentucky, the liome of impas- i^ioncd oratory: the home of Clay: the State of splendid women, of gallant men I " " And I," said another, "was born in Virginia, tho home of Washington: the birthplace of statesmen : tho State of chi- valrio deeds and noble hospitality !" " And I," said a yellow-haired and sallow- faced man, who was not of this party at all, and who had been quietly smoking a short black pipe by tho fire during their magni- ficent conversation — "and I was born in the garden spot of America." " Where is that ? " they said . " Skeouhigan Maim /" ho replied ; " kin I sell you a razor strop ?" rii;: thei for on 1 his whc oth( shin wen tion; who dresi lant men I " ms born in ington: the State of obi- iy!" 1 and sallow- party at all, ing a abort 'leir magni- ■as born in lied ; " kin Tlio Boston man gets into a stnto of excitement with the mulc-drivcr. XI. " I AM HERE." There is uo mistake about that, and there is a good prospect of my staying here for some time to couie. The siiuw Ik deep on the ground, and more is falling. The Doctor looks glum, and speaks of his ill-starred countryman, Sir J. Franklin, who went to the Arctic once too much. " A good thing happened down hero the other day," said a miner from New Hamp- shire to me. " A man of Boston dres,sin' went through there, and at one of the sta- tions there was'nt any mules. Says the man who was fixed out to kill in his Boston dressin', ' Where's them muels ?" Says the driver, ' Them mules is into the sage-brush. You go catch 'em — that's wot you do.' Says the man of Boston dressin, ' Oh no!' Says the driver, ' Oh yes 1' and he took his long coach-whip and licked the man of Boston dressin' till he went and caught them mules. How does that strike you as a joke ?' " It didn't strike me as much of a joke to pay a hundred and seventy-five dollars in gold fare, and then be horse-whipped by stage-drivers, for declining to chase mules. But people's ideas of humor differ, just as people's ideas differ in regard to shrewd- !i * '\^ 76 I AM HERE. noss — which " roiriimUs mo ofa littlo story." Sitting in ii Now England i-ountry storo one day, I overheard the following dialngno between two brotlicra : " Say, Hill, wot you done witli that air sorrel marc of yourn ?" " Sold her," said William, with a cmilo of satisfaction. " Wot 'd you git?" '• llund'd an' fifty dollars, cash dcown !" " Show ! llund'd an' fifty for that kickin' spavin'd critter? Who'd you sell her to?" " Sold her to mother !" " Wot!" exclaimed brother No. 1, '= did you railly sell that kickin' spavin'n critter to mother ? Wall, you air a shrewd one !" A Sensation-Arrival by the Overland I Stage of two Missouri girls, who have como ' unescorted all the way'through. They arc I going t(» Nevada territory to join their father. Tliey arc pretty, but, merciful licavens ! how they throw tlie meat and potatoes down their throats. " This is the first Squar' meal we've^hud since we left Uocky Thompson's," said the eldest Then addressing herself to me, she said : " Air you the literary man ?" I politely replied that I was one of " them fcllcr,«4." " Wall, don't make fun of our clothes in the papers. Wo air goin' right straight through in these hero clothes, irc air ! Wo j ain't goin' to ntf/ out till we git to Nevady I Pa^'s thcnrsassiges !" U m\^*' h ' w'f;^' fm \rm m - J. -. ■■*■<')■» M'^ 10 hnvo coino . They arc I join their It, incroiful J meut and ' This is the in CO wo left lclo^*t, Then lid: » wiis one of ir clotlics in i);ht straight •c air ! Wo to Nevady ! XII. . BRKJIIAM YOUNr.. Bkiuiiam YouNd Kends word tliut 1 may hco him to-morrow. So I go to bed wing- ing the popular Mormon hymn : Lot tlio rlioniK hIIII lie fillip, Loiif; livo Itrollicr llrl|;linni Voiiiif;, And hUwoil tw tlicMnli'ol' I ((•hcmH— ri't — rft! Ami bli'i«ii«'d bo till' >ul<' oI'DuJcri't. At two o'clock the next afternoon Mr. lliram H. (!law-^ n, Urighani Young'H mi\- in-law and cliiet bu.sinc88 manager, calls for mc with the Pruphet's private sleigh, and wo htart for that distinguished person's block. I am shown into the Prophet's chief office. lie comes fotw^ard, greets mc cor- dially, and introduces mo to several influ- ential Mormons who arc present. Srii^ham young is G2 years old, of me- dium liciglit, and with sandy hair and whiskers. An active iron man, with a dear sharp eye. A man of consummate shrewdness — of great executive ability. Ho was born in the State of Yermont, and so by the way was Heber C. Kimball, who will wear the Mormon Belt when Brighrau leaves the ring. " ^ ' • Brigham Young is a man of great natu- ral ability. If you ask me, How pious is he ? I treat it as a conundrum, and give it up. Personally he treated me with mark- ed kindness throughout my sojourn in Utah. His power in TItah is quite as absolute as that of any living sovereign, yet he uses it with such consummate shrewdness that his people are passionately devoted to him. He was an elder at the first formal Mor- mon " stake" in this country, at Kirtland, Ohio, and went to Nauvoo with Joseph Smith. That distinguished Mormon hand- ed his mantle and the Prophet business over to Brighuin when he died at Nnitvoo. Smith (lid a more flourishing business in the Prophet line than B. Y. does. Smith used to have his little llcvelation almost every day — sometimes two bcCme dinner. B. Y. only takes one once in awhile. The gateway of his block is surmounted by a brass American eagle, and they say (" they say" here means anti-IMormons) that he receives liis spiritual dispatches through this piece of patriotic poultry. They also say that lie receives revelations from a stuffed white calf that is trimmed with red ribbons and kept in an iron box. I don't suppose these things are true. Humor says that wlieii the Lion 1 louse was ready to be shingled, Brigham received a mes,sage from the Lord stating that the carpenters must all take hold and shingle it, and not charge a red cent for their services. Such carpenters as refused to shingle would go to hell, and no postponement on account of the N'eather. They say that Brig- ham, whenever a train of emigrants arrives in Salt Lake City, orders all the women to march up and dorn before hi.s block, while he stands on the portico of the Lion House, and gobbles up the prettiest ones. He is an immensely wealthy man. His wealth is variously estimated at from ten to twenty millions of dollars. He owns saw mills, grist mills, woollen factories, brass and iron foundries, farms, brick-yards, &c., and superintends them all in person. A man in Utah individually owns what he grows and makes, with the exception of a 78 BKIGIIAM YOUNG. h l\ one tenth part : tliat must go to the Church ; and Brij:;ham Young, as the first President, is t'ne Church's treasurer. Gen- tiles of course say that he abuses tliis blind i.iinfidenco of his people, and speculates wit I their money, and absorbs the interest if 1 e doesn't the principal. The Mormons doi y this, and say wliatever of their money Lo does iso is for the good of th' i 'hurch ; tliat he defrays tiie expenses of emigrants from far over the seas; that he is fore- most in all local enterprises tending to de- velop the r(!SOurces of the territory, and that, in short, he is incapable of wrong in any shape. Nobody seems to know how many wives Brighani Young has. Some set the num- berj as high 'as eighty, in vvhieh case his children must be too numerous to mention. Each wife has a roci to herself. These rooms are large and airy, and I suppose they are supplied with all the modern im- pv(Wt.uenis. But never having been in- vited to visit them I can't speak very defi- nitely about this. When I left the Prophet he shook me cordially by the luiud, and invited mo to call again. This was flatter- ing, because if he dislikes a man at. the first interview he never sees him again. He made no allusion to the '• letter" I had written about his conununity. Outside guards were pacing up and down before the gateway, but they smiled upon me sweetly. The veraiulah was crowded with (ientile miners, Ttho seemed to be suprised that I didn't return in a wooden overcoat, with my throat netitly laid open from ear to ear. I go to the Theatre to-night. The play is Othello. This is a re.illy fine play, and wa-s a favorite of G. Wiishington, the father of his country. On this stage, as upon all other .stages, the good old conventionalities are strictly adhered to. The actors cross each other at oblique angles from L, U. E. to K.I. E.. on the slightest prov'ocation. Othello howls, lago scowls, and the boys all laugh when Roderigo dies. I stay to see charming Mrs. Irwin (Dcsdemona) die, which she does very sweetly. I was an actor once, myself. I suppor- ted Edwin Forrest at a theatre in Philadel- phia. I played a pantomimic part. I re- moved the chairs between scenes, and I did it so neatly that Mr. F. said I would make a cabinet-maker if I " applied" myself. The parquette of the theatre is occupied exclusively by the Moriuons and their wives, and children. They wouldn't let a Gentile in there any more than they would a serpent. In the side seats are those of President Young's wives who go to the play, and a large and varied assortment of chil- dren. It is an odd sight to see a jovial old Mormon file down the parquette aisle with ten or twenty robust wives at his heels. Yet this spectacle may be witnessed every night the theatre is opened. The dress cir- cle is chiefly occupied by the ofiicers from Camp Douglas and the Gentile Merchants. The upper circles are tilled by the pri- vate soldiers and 3Iormon boys. I feel bound to say that a ^Mormon audience is quite as appreciative as any other kind of an audience. They prefer comedy to tra- gedy. Sentimental plays, for obvious rea- sons, are unpopular with them. It will be remembered that when C. 3Ielnotte, in the Lady of Lyons, conies home from the wars he I'olds i'auline to his heaving heart and makes several remarks of an impassioned and slobbering chai'aeter. One night when the Lady of Jiyons was produced here, an aged Mormon arose and went out with his twenty-four wives, angrily stating that ho wouldn't sit and see a play where a maa made such a cuxscd fuss oviir one woman. The prices of the theatre are : Parquette, 75 cents; dress circle, $1, 1st upper cir- cle, 50 ; 2nd and 3rd tipper circles, 25. In an audience of two thousand persons (and there are almost always that number pre] sent) probably a thousand will pay in casli BRIGHAM YOUNG. 79' emona) die, I siippor- in Philadel- part. I rc- 3, and I did would make myself. is occupied and their uldn't let a tliey would e those of to the play, entof chil- a jovial old ! aisle with his heels, sscd every 3 dress cir- Scers from yjerchants. y the pri- s. 1 feel udioiice is 'v kind of dy to tra- •vious rea- It will be tte, iu the 1 tlie wars lioart and ipassioued iglit wlicn I hero, an with his ! that ho e a mail ; voman, 'arquette, ipper cir- !S, 25. Id sons (and uber pre] y in cash and the other thousand in grain and a va- riety of articles ; all which will command money, however. Brigham Young usually sits in the mid- dle of the parquette, in a rocking-chair, and with his hat on. He does not escort his wives to the theatre. They go alone. When the play drags he either falls into a tranquil sleep or walks out. He wears in winter time a green wrapper, and his hat is the style introduced into this country by Louis Kossuth, Esq., the liberator of H an- garia. (I invested a dollar in the liberty of Hungaria nearly fifteen years ago.) t I t. \ 1 iJ .- !il XIII. A PIECE IS SPOKEN. Ml fl 1* A piece hath its victoric; no less than war. " Blessed are the I'iece makers." That is Scripture. The night of the '• comic oration" is come, and the speaker is arranging his back hair in the star-dressing-room of thu t!ieatre. The orchestra is playing selections from the (fentile opera of T^n Ballo in Maschera, and the house isfuii. Mr. John F. Caiue, the excellent stage-manager, has given me an elegant drawing-room scene in -.vhich lo speak my little piece. [In Iowa I once lectured in a theatre, and the heartless manager gave me a Dun- geon scene.] The cu.tain goes up, and I stand before a Salt Lake of upturned faces. I can only say that I was never listened to more attentively and kindly in my life thnn I was by this audience of Mormons. Among my receipts at the boz-oSloe this night were — 20 bushels of wheat. 5 bushels of corn. 4 (.' <■• 2 " " 4 '•' (( 2 hams. potatoes. oats. ■ialt. 1 live pig (D the box-office). 1 wolf-skin. r. Ilingston chained liim in 5 pound.) honey in the eomb. IG strings of sausages — 2 pounds to the string. 1 cat-skin 1 churn (two fauiilie.'j >vent in on this ; it is an ingenious churn, and fetches butter in five minutes by rapid grinding). 1 set clt.idren'sunder-garnients, embroid- ered. 1 firkin, of butter. 1 keg of apple sauce. One man undertook to pas.« a dog ^a cross between a Scotch terrier and a "Welah rabbit) at the box-office, and another pre- sented a German-sib, er coffin-plate, but the Doctor very justly repulsed them both. V^it.i! H-milup* XIV. TxHE BALL. ained him in ounds to the in on this ; 3tchcs butter its, embroid- >.« n dog ^a nd a Welah nother prc- ate, but the m both. The Mormons are fond oi" daneing. Brigham and Heber C. dance. So do Da- niel II. Wells and the other heads of the Church. Balls are opened with prayer and when they break up a benediction is pronounced. I am invited to a ball at Social Hall, and am escorted thither by Brothers Stenhouse and Clawson. Soeial Hall is a spacious and cheerful room The motto of "Our xMountain Home" in brilliant evergreen capitals adorns one end of the hal!, while at the other a platform is erected for the musicians, behind whom there is room for those who don't dance to sit and look at the festivities. Brother Stenhouse, at the request of President Young, formally introduces me to company from the platform. There is a splendor of costumery about the dancers I had not expected to see. Quadrilles only are danced. The Mazourka is considered sin- ful. Even the old-time round waltz is ta- boed. I dance. The Saints address each other here as elsewhere, as Brother and Sister. " This way, Sister!"" Where are you going, bro- ther? etc. etc. I am called Brother Ward. This pleases me, and I dance with renewed Vigor The Prophet has some very charming daughters, several of whom are present to^ J^^ was told they spoke French and Spa- The prophet is more industrious than graceful as a dancer. He exhibits-, how- ever, a spryness oflegs .uite remarkable in amanatlustimeofufo. I didn't see He- berC. lumbal! on the floor. I am told he IS a loose and reckless dancer, and that mnyahly-white-ehasfeltthe crushing weight of his.cowhide monitors. ° The old gentleman is present, however, with a largo number of wives. It is said he calls them his "heifers." "Ain't you goin' to dance with some of my wives?" said a Mormon to rac. These things make a Mormon ball more spicy tiian a Gentile one. The supper is sumptuous, and bear and beaver adorn the bill of fare. I go away at the early hour of two in tho morning. The moon is shining brightly on the sno w.covered streets. The lamps arc out, and the town is still as a grave yard n I ■'-^jrrv-cii -^f,_,^s_T/-™;" ''^r^.-TPWVT^*^' -T ,,(VIIHHMi.'"t<«^?^ XY. PHELP'S ALMANAC. I I There is an eccentric Mormon at Salt Lake City of the name of W. W. Phelps. He is from Cortland, State of New York, and has been a Saint for a good many years. It it said he enacts the character of the Devil, with a pea-green tail, in the Mormon initiation ceremonies. He also publishes an Almanac, in which he blends astronomy with short moral essays, and suggestions in regard to the proper management of hens. He also contributes a poem entitled " The Tombs" to his Almanac for the current year, from which I quote the last verse : " Choose yc; to rest with stately grooms; Just such a place there is for sleeping; AVhere everything, in common keepinff, Is I'rco from want and worth and weeping; There folly's harvest is a reaping, Down in the grave, among the tombs." Now, I know that poets and tin-pedlars are " licansed," but why does W. W. P. advise us to sleep in the barn with the ostlers ? These are the most dismal Tombs on record, not excepting the Tomb of the Capulets, the Tombs of New York, or the Toombs of Georgia. Under the head of " Old Sayings," Mr. P. publishes the following. There is a modesty about the last " saying" which will be pretty apt to strike the reader : " The Lord docs good and Satan evil, said Bloses. Sun and Moon, see mo conquer, said Joshua. Virtue exalts a woman, said David. Koolo and folly frolic, said Solomon. Judgments belong to God, said Isaiah. The path of the just is plain, said Jeremiah. The soul that sins dies, said Ezckiel. TIic wicked do wicked, said Daniel. Ephraim fled and hid, said Ilosca. The (jentiles war and waste, said Joel. The second reign is peace and plenty, 'said Amos, Zion is the house of the (Jods, said Obadiah. A flsh saved me, said Jonah. Our Lion will be terrible, said Micah. Doctor, euro yourself, said the Saviour. Lire to live again, said \T. W. Phelps." .1 1 1 :;^ ::^- 1^ XVI. HURRAH FOR THE ROAD ! Time, Wednesday afternoon, February 10. The Overland Stage, Mr. William Glover on the box, stands before #he veran- da of the Salt Lake House. The genial Nat Stein is arranging the way-bill. Our baggage (the overland passenger is only allowed twenty-five pounds) is being put aboard, md we are shaking hands, at a rate altogetlier furious, with Mormon and Gentile. Among the former are brothers Stenhouse, Caine, Clawson and Townsend ; and among the latter are Harry Riccard, the big-hearted English mountaineer (though orce he wore white kids and swallow-tails in Regent street, and in his boyhood went to school to Miss Edgeworth, the novelist) ; the daring explorer Rood, from Wisconsin ; the Rev. James McCormick, missionary, who distributes pasteboard tracts among the Bannock miners ; and the pleasing child of gore, Capt. D. B. Stover, of the Commissary department. We go away on wheels, but the deep snow compels us to substitute runners twelve miles out. There are four pa.s.senger8 of us. We pierce the ^"ahsatch mountains by Parley's canon. A snow storm overtakes us as the night thickens, and the wind shrieks like a bri- gade of strong-lunged maniacs. Never mind. We are well covered up — our cigars are good — I have on deerskin pantaloons, a deerskin overcoat, a beaver cap and buf- falo overshoes ; and so, as I tersely observed before, Never mind. Let us laugh the winds to scorn, brave boys ! But why is William Glover, driver, lying flat on his back by the Toadpide, and why am I turning a hand- q' ia the road, and why are the horses tearing wildly down the Wahsateh moun- tains ? It is because William "lover has been thrown from his seat, & the horses are running away. I see him fall off, an J it occurs to me that I had better get out. In doing so, such is the velocity of the sleigh, I turn a handspring. Far ahead I hear the runners clash with the rocks, and I see Dr. Hingston's lantern (he always would have a lantern) bobbing about like the binnacle light of an oyster sloop, very loose in a chopping sea. There- fore I do not laugh the winds to scorn as much as I did, brave l>oys. William G. is not hurt, and together we trudge on after the runaways, in the hope of overtaking them, which we do some two miles off. They are in a snowbank, and " nobody hurt." We aresooii on the road again, all serene; though I believe the doctor did observe that such a thing could not have occurred under a monarchical form of government. We reach Weber station, thirty miles ^''•om Salt Lake City, and wildly situated at the foot of the graqd Echo Canon, at 3 o'clock the following morning. We remain over a day here with James Bromley, agent of the Overland Stage line, and who is better known on the plains than Shakspeare is ; although Shakespeare has done a pood deal for the stage. James Bromley hasseeu the Overlan 1 iine grow up from its ponyicy ; and as Fitz-G reen Halleck happily observes,, none know him but to like his style. He was intended for an agent. In his infancy he used to lisp the refrain, " 1 w»ni to be an agont, Aud with the agents stand." i ' ■ 84 - HURRAH FOR THE ROAD. ti Pi H '.'. ■•'1 i •ff) * m I I part with this kind-hearted gentleman, to whose industry and ability the Overland line owes much of its success, with sincere regret ; and I hope he will soon get rich enough to transplant his charming wife from the Desert to the " White Settlements." Forward to Fort Bridger, in an open sleigh. Night clear, cold, and moonlit. Driver, Mr. Samuel Smart. Through Echo Canon to Hanging)Rock Station. The snow is very deep, there is no path, and we liter- ally shovel our way to Robert Pollock's station, which we achieve in the Course of Time. Mr. P. gets up and kindles a fire, and a snowy nightcap and a pair of very bright black eyes beam upon us from the bed. That is Mrs. Robert Pollock. The log cabin is a comfortable one. I make coffee in my French coffee-pot, and let loose some of the roast chickens in my basket. (Tired of fried bacon and salt ratus bread, — the principal bill of fare at the stations, — we had supplied ourselves with chicken, boiiad ham, onions, sausages, sea-bread, caunbd butter, ckecse, honey, &c., &c., an example all Overiand traders would do well to follow. ) Mrs Pollock tells mt- where I can lind cream far the coffee, and cups and sauuers fiir the nae. and appears so k jd, tJBH. I jBjjBiut our :aaj is so limited that we oaiit see more ofber. tOn to Yellow Creek Station. Then Heedle Rock — a dEHoiate hutonthe Desert, house and bam in one building. The sta- tion-teener a miserable, toothless wretch wiih skiig;^_ yellow hair, but says he's going to get marrid. I think I see him. To Bear River. A pleasant Mormon named Myers keeps this station, and he gives us a first-rate break iiist Robert Curtis takes the reins from Mr. t^mart here, and we get on to wheels again. Begin to see groups of trees — a new sight to us. Pass Quaking Asp iSpiings and Muddy to Fort Bridger. Here are a group of white buildings, built round a plaza, across the Middle of which runs a creek. There are a lew hundred troops hero under the command of Majoi Gallagher, a gallant officer and a gentlen n, well worth know- ing. We stay here tw u days. We are on the road again, Sunday the 14th, with a driver of the highly floral name of Primrose. At 7 the next morning wo reach Green River Station, and enter Idaho territory. This is the Bitter Creek division of the Overland route, of which wc had heard so many unfavourable stories. The division is really well managed by Mr. Steward, though the country through which it stretches is the most wretched I ever saw. The water is liquid alkali, and the roads are soft sand. The snow is gone now, and the dust is thick and blinding. So drearily, wearily we drag onward. We reach the summit of the Rocky Mountains at midnight on the 17th. The climate changes suddenly, and the cold is intense. We resume runners, have a break-down, and are forced to walk four luil'js. I remember that one of the numerous reasons urged in favour of General Fre- mont's election to the Presidency in 1856, was his finding the path across the Rocky Mountains. Credit is certainly due that gallant explorer in this regard; but it oc- cured to me, as I wrung my frost-bitten hands on that dreadful night, that for me to deliberately go over that path in mid-win- ter was a sufficient reason for my election to any lunatic asylu'u, by an overwhelming vote. Dr. Hingston made a similar remnrk, and wondered if he should ever clink glas- ses with his friend Lord Pulmerston again. Another sensation. Not com c this time. One of our passengers, a fair- haired German boy, whose sweet ways had quite won us all, sank on tbe snow, and said — Let me sleep. We knew only too well what that meant, and tried hard to rouse him. It was in vain. Let me sleep, he said. And so in the cold starlight he died. We took him up tenderly from the snow, and bore him to the sleigh that awaited us by the roadside, some two miles away. The new HURRAH FOR THE ROAD. Qi^ moon was shining now, and the smile on the Bweet white face told how pairlessly tlic poor boy had died. No one knew him. He was from the Bannock mines, was ill clad, had no baggage or money, and his fare was paid to Denver. He had said that he was going back to Germany. That was all we knew. So at sunrise the next morning we buried him at the foot of the grand mountains that are snow-covered and icy all the year round, far away from the Faderland, where, it may be, some poor mother is crying for her darling who will not come. We strike the North Platte on the 18th. The fare at the stations is daily improving, and wo often have antelope steaks snow. They tell us of eggs not far off, and we encourage (by a process not wholly uncon- nected with bottles) the drivers to keep their mules in motion. Antelope by the thousand can be seen racing the plains from the coach-windows. At Elk Mountain we encounter a religi- ous driver named Jjdward Whitney, who never swears at the mules. This has ma<1e him distinguished all over the plnins. Tliis pious driver tried to convert tiic Doctor, but I am morti6ed to say that his efforts were not crowned with success Fort llal- leck is a mile from p]lk, and here are some troops of the Ohio 1 1th regiment, under the command of Major Thomas L. Mackey. On the 20th we reach Rocky Thomiae s justly celebrated station at 5 in the morning, and have a breakfast of hashed black-tailed deer, antelope Hteaks, ham, boiled bear, honey, eggs, coffee, tea, and cream. That was tiio squarest meal on the road except at Weber. Mr. Thomas is a Baltimore " slosher," he informed me. I don't know what that is, but he is a good fellow, and gave us a breakfast fit for a lord, emperor, czar, count, etc. A better couldn't be found at Delraonieo's or Park- er's. He pressed me to linger with him a few days and shoot bears. It was with several pangs tha* I declined the generous Baltimorean's invitation. To Virgina Dale. Weather clear and bright. Virginia Dale is a pretty spot, as it ought to be with such a pretty name ; but I treated with no little scorn tlie advice of a hunter I met there, who told me to give up " literatoor," form a matrimonial alliance with some squaws, and "settle down thar." Bannock on the brain ! That is what is the matter now. Wagon-load after wagon- load of emigrants, bound to the new Idaho gold regions, meet us every hour. Canvns- covered and drawn for the most part by fine large mules,they make a pleasant panorama, as they stretch slowly over the plains and uplands. We strike the South Platte Sunday, the 21 3-, and breakfast atLa'ham, a station of one horse proportions. We are now in Colorado (" Pike's Peak, ")and we diverge from the main route here and visit the flourishing and beautiful city of Denver. Jlessrs. Langrisli & Dougherty, who have so long and so admirably catered to the amusement lovers of the Far "\A'"st, kindly withdraw their dramatic corps fur a night, and allow me to use their pretty littlo theatre. We go to the Mountains from Denver, viniting the celebrated >;old-mining towns of Biack Hawk and Ceiitral City. I leave tht* queen of all the tfrri ' ■ ries, quite firmly l>eiieving that its future is to be no les? brilliant than its pu-i has been. I had almost forgotten to mention that on the way from Latham to Denver Dr. Kingston and Dr. *eaton (late a highly admired physician anu surgeon in Kentucky, and now « prosperous gold-miner) had a learned diiteu.si'ion as to the forirtation of the membranes <■< the human stomach, in which they u.sed words that were over a foot long by actual measurement. I never heard such splendid words in my life ; but such was their grandiloquent profundity and their far-reaching lucidity, that I under- ■l; 11 'i 86 IIUHRAH FOR THE ROAD. stood rather less about it when they had finished than I did when they commenced. Back to Latham again over a marshy road, and on to Nebraska by the main- stage-line. I met Col. Chivington, commander of the District of Colorado, at Latham. Col. Chivington is a Methodist clergy- man, and was once a Presiding Elder. A thoroughly earnest man, an eloquent preacher, a sincere believer in the war, he of course brings to his new position a great deal of enthusiasm. This, with his natu- ral military tact, makes him an officer of rare ability ; and on more occasions than one, he has led his troops against the enemy with resistless skill and gallantry. I take the liberty of calling the President's atten- tion to the fact that this brave man ought to have long ago been a Brigadier-general. There is, however, a little story about Col. Chivington that I must tell. It in- volves the use of a little blank profanity, but the story would be spoiled without it ; and, as in this case, " nothing was meant by it," no great hai ii cao be dmw. I rarely stain my pages with even mild profanity. It is wicked in the firjt place, and not funny in the second. I ask the boon of being occasionally stupid ; but I could never see the fun of being impious. Col. Chivington vanquished the rebels^ with his bravo Colorado troops, in New Mexico last year, as most people know. At the commencement of the action, which was hotly contested, a shell from the enemy exploded near him, tearing up the ground, and causing Capt. Rogers to swear in an awful manner. " Captain Rogei-s," said the Colonel, " gentlemen do not swear on a solemn occa- sion like this. We may ftUI, but, falling in a glorious cause, let us die as Christians, not as rowdies, with oaths upon our lips. Captain Hogers, let us "' Another shell, a Hpri;;htlier one than its predecessor, tears the cfirth fearfully in the immediate vicinity o;" Col. Chivington, filling his eyes with dirt, and knocking off his hat. " Why, G d their souls to h ," he roared, " they've put my eyes out — as Captain lingers mould say ! " But the Colonel's eyes were not seriously damaged, and he went in. Went in, only to come out victorious. Wo reach Julesberg, Colorado, the 1st of March. We are in the country of the Sioux Indians now, and encounter them by the hundred. A Chief offers to sellmehi.s daughter (a fair young Indian maiden) for six dollars and two quarts of whiskey. I decline to trade. Meals which have hitherto been $1.00 each, are now 75 cents. Eggs appear on the table occasionally, and we hear of chickens further on. Nine miles from hero we enter Nebraska territory. Here is occasionally a fenced farm, and the ranches have bar-rooms. Buffalo skins and buffalo tontcues arc for sale at most of the station.'^. We reach South Platte on the 2d, and Fort Kearney on the 3d. The 7th Iowa Cavalry are here, under the command of Major Wood. At Cottonwood, a day's ride back, we had taken aboard Major ()'Bfien, com- manding the iroijy^ there, and a very jovial warrior he is, too. McaL-< arc now down to 50 cents, and ,i great deal better than when they were $1.00. Kansas, 105 miles from Atchison. Atchi- son ! No traveller by sea ever longed to set his foot on shore as we longed to reach the end of our dreary coach-ride over the wildest part of the whole continent. How wo talked Atchi.xon, and dreamed Atchison for the next fifty hours ! Atchison, I shall always love you. You were evidently mis- taken, Atchison, when you told me that in case I " lectured" there, immense crowds would throng to the hall ; but you are very HURRAH FOR THE ROAD. 87 The Otoo Indian buries tiis tomahawk, and settles down to farming, ■3ear to me. Let me kiss you for your maternal parent! Wc are passing through the reservation of the Otoe Indians, who long ago wa.shed the warpaint from their faces, buriod the tomahawk, and settled down into quiet, prosperous farmers. We rattle leisurely into Atchirtofi on a Sunday evening. Lights gleam in the windows of milk-white churches, and they tell u?, far better than anything else could, that we arc back to civilization again. An overland journey in winter is a better thing to have done than to do. In the spring, however, when the grass is green on the great prairies, I fancy one might make the journey a pleasant one, with his own outfit and a few choice friends. -; •.."J7'r,','"" " ' ■ ^!i "*h •!:.>j^ . '. •• XVII. VERY MUCH MARRIED. Are the Mormon women happy ? I give it up. I don't iinow. It is at great Salt Lake City an it is in Bo.«ton. If I go out to tea at the Wiliiinses in Boston, I am pretty sure to find Mr. Wilkins all smiles and sunnhine, or Mrs. Wilkins all gentleness and jx)liteness. lam entertained deliglitfully, and after tea little Miss Wilkins shows me her Photograph Album, and plays the march from Faust on the piano for me. I go away highly pleased with my visit ; and yet the Wilkin- ses may fight like cats and dogs in private. I may no sooner have struck the sidewalk than Mr. W. will be reaching for Mrs. W.'s throat. Thus it is in the City of the Saints. Ap- parently, the Monnon women are happy. I saw them at their best, of course — at balls, tea-parties, and the like they were like other women as far as my observation extended. They were lioopcd, and furbelowed, and shod, and white collared, and bejewelled : and like women all over the world, they were .softer- eyed and kinder-hearted than men can ever hope to be. The Mormon girl is reared to believe that the plurality wife system (as it is deli- cately called here) is strictly right ; and in linking her destiny with a man who has twelve wives, she undoubtedly considers she is doing her duty. She loves the man, probably, for I think it is not true, as so many writers have stated, that girls are forced to marry whomsoever " the Church may dictate." Some parents no doubt advise, connive, threaten, and in aggravated cases incarcerate here, as some parents have al- ways done elsewhere, and always will do. as long as petticoats continue to be an insti- tution. How these dozen or twenty wives get a- long without hoartbuniings and hairpull- ings, I can't see. There are instances on record, you know, where a man don't live in a state of unin- tcrnipted blLss with one wife. And to say that a man can possess twenty wives with- out having his special favorite, or favorites, is to say that he is an angel in boots — which is something I liavc never been introduced to. You never saw an angel with a Beard, although you may have seen the Bearded Woman. The Mormon woman is early taught that man, being created in the image of the Savior, is far more godly than slie can ever be, and that for her to seek to monopolise his affections is a species of rank sin. So she .shares his affections with five or six or twenty other women, as the c.-ise may be. A man must be amply able to support a mumber of wives before he can take them. Hence, perhaps, it is that so many old chaps in Utah have young and blooming wives in their seraglios, and so many young men have only one. I had a man pointed out to me who mar- ried an entire family. He had orginally intended to marry Jane, but Jane did not want to leave her widowed mother. The other three sisters were not in the matrimo- nial market for the same reason ; so this gallant man married the whole crowd, in- cluding the girl's grandmother, who had lost all her teeth, and had to be fed with a spoon. The family were in indigent circum- stances, and they could not but congratulate- M VERY MUCH MARRIED. 8» bean iasti- rivcB get a- l hairpuU- you know, tc of unin- ^nd to say rives with- r favorites, ts — which introduced with a ! seen the themselves on w^curin^ a wealthy hushand. It ,«''omed to affect the j^randniothcr deeply for the first words slie said on reaching her new home, were : "Now, thank < Jod ! I shall have my iiruel reji'lur !" The name of Joseph Hniith is worshipped in Utah ; and, " they say," that althoufrh he has been dead a f;^ood iinny years. Ii'- still keeps ou marrying wonieii hy^^ro-o^ He " reveals ' who shall act as his earthly agent in this matter, and the agent faithful- ly executes the defunct I'mphet's com- mands. A few years ago I read about a couple being married by telegraph — the young man was in Cincinnati, and the young wo- man was in New Hampshire. They did not sec each other for a year ai'terwards. I don't sec what fun there is in this .sort of thing. I have .somewhere .stated that Brighnm Young is said to have eighty wives. I lijird- ly think he lias so many. Mr. Hyde, the backslider, says in his book that '• Brigham always sleeps by him.self in a little chamber behind his ofliee," and iClii- has eighty wives I don't blame liini. He must )ii> bewilder- ed. I know very well that if I had eighty wives of my bosom I .should be confused, and shouldn't sleep anywliere. I undertook to count the long stockings, on the clothes- line, in his back yard one day, and I used up the nmltiplicatinn table in less than half an hour. In this book I am writing chiefly of what I saw. I saw Plurality at its best, and I give it to you at its best. I have shown the silver lining of this grc.ii -ocial Cloud. That back of this silver lining the Cloud must be thick and ,black, I feel quite sure. But to elaborately denounce, at this late day, a system we all know must be wildly wrong, would be simply to impeach the intelli- gence of the readers of this book. rly taught lage of the le can ever monopolize c sin. So e or six or may be. » support a ;ake them. y old chaps ig wives in roung men 3 who mar- l orginally no did not er. The e matrimo- 1 ; so this crowd, in- who had fed with a nt circum- mgratulate- \i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) ^ K f < m /A W r '/ ScMices Corporation 23 -.VIST MAIN STRUT WfRSTeH.fJ.Y. MSSO (716)S72-4S03 A \ V THE REVELATION OF JOSEPH SMITH. 93 enter not the pre- lude unto nd Sarah ic. Anil s was the y pet pie. ong other im* there- y, I say landed it. sr his .son , Thou did not him for will, and it shall be given unto you, accord- ing to my word ; and as ye have asked con- cerning adultery, verily, verily, I say unto you, if a man receiveth a wife in the new and everlasting covenant, and if she be with another man, and I have not appointed un- to her by the holy anointing, she hath com- mitted adultery, and shall be destroyed. If she be not in the new and everlasting cove- nant, an(^ she be with another man, she has oommittcd adultery ; and if her husband be with anothci' woman, and he was under a vow, he hath broken his vow, and hath committed adulterj* ; and if she hath not ■committed adultery, but is innocent, and hath not broken her vow, and she knoweth it, and I reveal it unto you, my servant Jo- seph, then shall you have power, by the power of my holy priesthood, to take her, and give her unto him that hath not com- mitted adultery, but hath been faithful ; for he shall be made ruler over many ; for I have conferred upon you the keys and power of the priesthood, wherein I restore all things, and make known unto you all things in due time. And verily, verily, I say unto you, that ■whatsoever you seal on earth shall be sealed in heaven; and whatsoever you bind on earth, in my name and by my word, saith the Lord, it shall be eternally bound in the heavens; and whosesoever sins you remit on earth, shall be remitted eternally in the heavens; and whosesoever sins you rciaiu on earth, shall be retaincc" ii. heaven. And iigain, verily, I say, whomsoever you bless, I will blcs.'^ ; and whomsoever you curse, I will curse, saith the Lord ; for I, the Lord, am thy God. And again, verily, I say unto you, my servant Joseph, that whatsoever you give on earth, and to whomsoever you give any one on earth, by ray word and according to my law, it shall be visited with blessin^ra and not cursings, and with my power, saith the Lord, and shall be without condemnation on earth and in heaven, for I am the Lord thy God, and will be with thee even imto the end of the world, and through all eternity ; for verily I seal upon you your exaltation, and prepare a throne for you in the king- dom of my Father, with Abraham your fa- ther. Behold! I have seen jour sacrifices, and will forgive all your ains; I have seen your sacrifices, in obedience to that which I have told you; go, therefore, and I make a way for your escape, as I accepted the oflering of Abraham, of his sod Isaac. Verily, I say unto you, a commandment I give unto mine handmaid. Emma Smith, your wife, whom I have given unto you, that she stay herself, and partake not of that which I commanded you to oficr unto her; for I did it, .saith the Lord, to prove you all, as I did Abraham, and that I mij^ht require an oflering at your hand by covenant and sacrifice; and let mine handmaid, Em- ma Spiith, receive all those that have been given unto my servant Joseph , and who are virtuous and pure before me ; and those who are not pure, and have said they were pure, shall be destroyed, saith the Lord God ; for I am the Lord thy God, and ye shall obey my voice ; and I give uuto my servant Joseph, that he shall be made ruler ever many things, for he hath been faithful over a few things, and from henceforth I will strengthen him. And I command mine hrndmaid, Emma Smith, to abide and cleave unto my servant Joseph, and to none else. But if she will not abide this commandment, she shall be destroyed, saith the Lord, for I am the Lord thy God, and will destroy her if she abide not in my law ; but if .she will not abide this commandment, then shall my .servant Joseph do all things for her, as he hath said; and I will bless him, and multiply him, and give unto him an hundredrold in this world, of fathers and mothers, brothers and aistere, houses and lands, wives and chil- dren, and crowns of eternal lives in the eter- nal worlds. And again, verily I say, let mine handmaid forgive my servant Joseph his trespasses, and then shall she be forgiven her trespasses, wherein she hath trespassed 94 THE REVELATION TO JOSEPH SMITH. !'■; I" - i'; i against mc; nnd I, the Lord thy God, will bless her, and nmltiply her, and make her heart to rejoice. And again, I say, let not my servant Jo- seph put his property out of his hands, lest an enemy come and destroy him — for Satan geeketh to destroy — for I am the Lord thy God, and he is my sci-vant ; and behold ! and lo, I am with him, as I wah with Abraham thy father,even unto his exaltation and glory. Now, as touching the law of the priest- hood, iliere are many things pcnaining thereunto. Verily, if a man be called of my Father, as was Aaron, by mine own voice, and by the voice of him that sent me, and I have endowed him with the keys of the power of this priesthood, if he do anything in my name, nad according to my law, and by my word, he will not commit sin, and I will justify him. Let no one, therefore, set on my servant Joseph, for I will justify him ; for he shall do the sacri- fice which I require at his hands, for his transgress" on s, saith the Lord your God. And again, as pertaining to the law of the priesthood; if any man espouse a virgin, and desire to espouse another, and the first give her consent ; and if he espouse the sec- ond, and they are virgins, and have vowed to no other man, then is he justified ; he can not commit adultery, for they are given unto him ; for he can not commit adultery with that that belongeth unto him, and to none else; and if he have ten virgins given unto him by this law, he can not commit adultery, for they belong to him, and they are given unto him ; therefore is he justified. But if one or either of the *en virgins, af- ter she is espoused, shall be with another man, she has committed adultery, and shall be destroyed ; for they are given unto him to multiply and replenish the earth, accord- ing to my commandment, and to fulfil the promise which was given by my Fatlier be- fore the foundation of the world, and for their exaltation in the eternal worlds, that they may bear the souls of men ; for herein is the work of my father continued, that he may be glorified. And again, verily, verily, I say unto you, if any man have a wife who holds the keys of this power, and he teaches untij her the law of my priesthood as pertaining to these things, then shall she believe and administer unto him, or she shall be destroyed, saith the Lord your God ; for I will destroy her ; for I will magnify my name upon all those who receive and abide in my law. There- fore it shall be lawful in me, if she receive not this law, for him to receive all things whatsoever I, the Lord his God, will give unto him, because she did not believe and administer unto him according to my word ; and she then becomes the transgressor, and he is exempt from the law of Sarah, who administered unto Abraham according to the law, when I commanded Abraham to take Hagar to wife. And now, as pertain- ing to this law, verily, verily, I say imto you, I will reveal more unto you liereafter, therefore let this sufiBce for the present. Be- hold! I am Alpha and Omega. Amen. THE END. ^mmw ^ I fM s k 1 1 * t ' ) I 1 f f!i \l i il m ^ I- ■■^•^pp il < j« Will be Published in November, BY R. WORTHINGTON, ARTEMUS WARD, " HIS BOOK." With 16 Illustrations, Royal Octavo, printed on fine paper. Paper Covers, uniform with TRAVELS," PRICE, 50 CENTS. THE ADVOCATE, a Novel, by Mr. C Heavysege, author of Jephtha's Daughter, &c., &c., in 1 Vol., 8vo., printed on tinted paper. THE HARP OF CANAAN, by the Rev. J. DOBGLAS BoRTHWicK, in 1 Vol., 12mo., printed on best No. 1 paper, 800 pages, and elegantly bound. HISTORY OF CANADA, by the late Robert Christie, Esq., M.P.P., in 6 Vols., ]2mo., 11.00 per Volume. QARNEAU*8 HISTORY OF CANADA, in 2 Vols., 8vo., Third Edition, now ready, bound in elegant morocco cloth, f 1.50 per Volume. ^'^^^^^^^m'^^^ ( I fe /=^, X' ( [ m :sffir: m m