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twg_000000042900 | plays, it certainly reminds us that there is such a thing as _Progress_. In the latter play, Mr. J.W. WALLACK was a civil engineer. In the present drama, he is an uncivil tradesman. Both appeal to the levelling tendencies of the age; and in each, the author has done his "level best"--as Mr. GRANT WHITE would say--to flatter the Family | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042901 | Circle at the expense of the Boxes. The cast includes a Vague Baronet and his Managing Wife, their Slangy Daughter, their Unpleasant Neighbor and his wife and daughter, an Unintelligible Dutchman, an Innocuous Youth, a Disagreeable Lawyer, and the Merchant Prince. This is the sort of way in which they conduct themselves, _Act_ . _Disagreeable Lawyer to Vague Baronet:_ "You | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042902 | are ruined, and your estate is mortgaged to a Merchant Prince. What do you intend to do?" _Vague Baronet._ "I will ask my wife what I think about it." _Enter Managing Wife._ "Ruined, are we? Allow me to remark, Fiddlesticks! Get the Merchant to take our third-story hall-bedroom for a week, and I'll soon clear off the mortgage." _Enter Slangy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042903 | Daughter._ "O ma! there was such a precious guy at the ball last night, and I had no end of a lark with him. Good gracious! here comes the duffer himself." _Enter Merchant Prince. (Aside.)_ "So here's the Vague Baronet and his wife. And there's the slangy girl I fell in love with. Nice lot they are!" (_To Managing Wife._) | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042904 | "Madam, there is nothing, so grand as the majesty of trade. Your rank and blood are all gammon. We Merchant Princes are the only people fit to live. However, I'll condescend to speak to you." _Managing Wife. (Aside.)_ "How noble! What a gentlemanly person he really is!" _(To Merchant Prince.)_ "Sir, I bid you welcome. Here is my daughter, who | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042905 | was just praising your beauty and accomplishments. I leave you to entertain her." (_Exeunt Baronet, Wife, and Lawyer_.) _Merchant Prince (placing his chair next to Slangy Daughter's, and leaning his elbow on her.)_ "There is nothing like trade. We tradesmen alone are great. We despise the whole lot of clean and idle aristocrats. I keep a Gin Palace in Liverpool. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042906 | Does your bloated aristocracy do half as much for suffering humanity?" _Slangy Daughter._ "Speak on, speak ever thus, O Noble Being! It's awfully jolly!" _Curtain falls, and Baker wakes up to lead his orchestra through the mazes of "Shoo Fly."_ _Appreciative Lady._ "Isn't it nice? Miss HENRIQUES'S dress is perfectly beautiful, and it sounds so cunning to hear her talk | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042907 | slang." _Second Appreciative Lady._ "How handsome ROCKWELL looks! Just like a real baronet, my dear!" _Other Appreciative Ladies._ "The dresses at WALLACK'S are always perfectly exquisite. I mean to have my next dress made with a green silk fichu, a moire antique bertha, and little point lace peplums and gussets, just like Miss MESTAYER'S. Won't it be sweet?" _All the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042908 | Counter-Jumpers in the Theatre._ "JIM WALLACK'S the boy! Don't he talk up to those aristocratic snobs, though?" _Act . Enter Unpleasant Neighbor and Unintelligible German. The former says,_ "You're sure there's an iron mine on the Baronet's land?" _Unintelligible German._ "Ya! Das ist um-um-um." _Enter Merchant Prince and Slangy Daughter. Exeunt the other fellows._ _Merchant Prince._ "There is nothing like | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042909 | the grandeur of trade; and yet we tradesmen are not proud. See! I offer to marry you." _Slangy daughter._ "I love you wildly! _(Aside.)_ I do hope he won't rumple my hair." _Merchant Prince._ "Come to my arrums! The majesty of trade is so infinitely above any thing else"--_and so forth._ _Enter Managing Wife._ "Take her, noble Merchant, and be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042910 | happy _(Aside.)_ This settles the affair of the mortgage." _(To Daughter)_ "Come, darling, we'll go and tell your father." _(They go.)_ _Enter Unpleasant Neighbor._ "Here's a telegram for you. No bad news, I hope?" _Merchant Prince._ "I am ruined unless you lend me ,. Do it, and I will assign to you the mortgage on the baronet's property. The majesty | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042911 | of trade is something which"-- _Unpleasant Neighbor._ "Here it is." _(Aside.)_ "Now I'll get possession of the estate and the iron-mine." _Enter Managing Wife._ "Ruined, are you? Of course you can't have my daughter now." _Merchant Prince._ "I resign her. We tradesmen are infinitely greater than you aristocrats." _Curtain falls, Baker wakes up. "Shoo Fly" by the Orchestra, and remarks | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042912 | on dress by the ladies as before. Counter-jumpers go out to drink to the majesty of trade, having grown perceptibly taller since the play began._ _Act . Unprincipled Neighbor to Unintelligible Dutchman._ "Have you got the analysis of the iron ore?" _Unintelligible Dutchman._ "Ya! Das its um-um-um." _Unprincipled Neighbor._ "All right! Now I'll foreclose the mortgage, and will be richer | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042913 | than ever." _Enter Vague Baronet, and Wife and Daughter, and Lawyer. To them collectively remarks the Unprincipled Neighbor,_ "The mortgage is due. As you can't pay, you've got to move out." _Disagreeable Lawyer._ "Not much! Here's an analysis of iron ore found on our land. We raised money on the mine, and are ready to pay off the mortgage." _Enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042914 | Merchant Prince._ "Here's an analysis of the iron ore. I told them all about it. We tradesmen are great, but we will sometimes help even a wretched aristocrat." _Slangy Daughter._ "Here's an analysis of the iron ore. Now I will marry my noble Merchant, and make him rich again; for there's dead loads of iron on the Governor's land, you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042915 | bet!" _They all produce analyses of the ore, and the play itself being o'er, the curtain falls._ _Exasperated critic, who has sent for twelve seats, and has been politely refused._ "I'd like to abuse it, if there was a chance; but there isn't. The play is really good, and I can't find much fault with the acting. However, I'll pitch | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042916 | into STODDARD for swearing, which his 'Unprincipled Neighbor' does to an unnecessary extent, and I'll say that JIM WALLACK is too old and gouty to play the 'Merchant Prince,' and doesn't quite forget that he used to play in the Bowery." _Every body else._ "Did you ever see a play better acted? And did you ever see actresses better dressed?" | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042917 | And PUNCHINELLO is constrained to answer the latter question with an emphatic No! As to the acting, it might be improved were Mr. STODDARD to play the character for which he is cast, instead of insisting upon playing nothing but STODDARD. But to all the rest of the actors, not forgetting Mr. RINGGOLD, who plays the insignificant part of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042918 | "Innocuous Youth," PUNCHINELLO is pleased to accord his gracious approval. MATADOR. * * * * * A Balmy Idea. According to Miss ANTHONY, the crying evil with women is that they will blubber; but it must be remembered that out of this blubber they make oil to pour into our conjugal wounds. * * * * * A Suit for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042919 | Damages. Any clothes in a storm. * * * * * [Illustration: THE POLITICAL MILL-ENNIUM.] * * * * * HINTS UPON HIGH ART. Observant visitors to the National Academy of Design will allow that a tendency to greatness is beginning to develop itself in certain directions among our artists. In landscape some of them are almost immense. The works | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042920 | of PORPHYRO warm the walls with rays of splendor, or cool the lampooned sight-line with pearly gradations, as the case may be. MANDRAKE renders feelingly the summer uplands and groves, and SILVERBARK the melancholy autumnal woods. BYTHESEA infuses with sentiment even the blue wreaths of smoke that curl up from the distant ridge against which loom the concentrated lovers that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042921 | he selects for his idyllic romances. Gushingly he does his work, but thoroughly; and there are other flowers than lackadaisies to be discerned in his herbage. GUSTIBUS blows gently the foliage aside, and gives us glimpses through it of rural contentment in connection with a mill, or some other interesting object beyond. The pencil of SAGEGREEN imbues canvases, both large | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042922 | and small, with infinite variety and force; and it is to SKETCHMORE that the great lakes owe their remarkable reputation as pieces of water with poems growing out of their broad lily-pads. Very tender are the pastoral banks and brooksides of LEAFHOPPER. ELFINLOCKS takes up his pencil, and lo! a hazy, mazy, lazy, dreamy vista where it has touched. But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042923 | hold! Our critical Incubus has taken the bit between her teeth, and is beginning to run away with us. Stop that; and let our readers enumerate the other first American landscape painters for themselves. Not so strong are our artists in domestic incidents and compositions of life and character. We have STUNNINGTON, to be sure, whose traits of American expression, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042924 | whether white or colored, are most true to the life; and there's BARLEYMOW, who will twist you an eclogue from the tail of his foreground pig. Others there be; but space has its limits, and we forbear. As for our portrait limners, their name is Legion, and that comprehensive name must go for all. Like BENVENUTO CELLINI they shall be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042925 | known for their jugs; and their transmission to posterity on the heads of families is a thing to be reckoned on as sure. For the higher flights of art the American painter is by no manner of means endowed with the wings of his native eagle--wings that agitate the cerulean vault, spattering it with splashes of creamy cloud-spray, and churning | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042926 | into butter the stretches of the Milky Way. History has indeed been illustrated by American art, but has it been enriched? The WASHINGTONS and the WEBSTERS, the CLAYS and the LINCOLNS, have had their memories dreadfully lampooned on canvas. Allegory does not inspire the great American pencil. Tall art there is, and enough of it "at that;" but of high | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042927 | art we have none to speak of, except the canvases that are placed over doorways in the galleries of the Academy, and, in the sense of elevation, may consequently be spoken of as high. All this is wrong. Alas! that we should write it. Would that we could right it! And to think of the musty subjects that our historical | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042928 | and allegorical men select. Ho! young men--away with your CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS; relegate your METAMORA to his proper limbo; let WASHINGTON alone; and LINCOLN; and OSCEOLA the Savage; and POCAHONTAS, and all the rest. Leave them alone; and, taking fresh subjects, dip your brushes in brains, as old OPIE or somebody else said, and go to work with a will. No | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042929 | fresh subjects to be had, you say? Bosh! absurd interlocutor that you are. Here's a bundle of 'em ready cut to hand. We charge you no money for them, and you may take your choice. SUBJECTS FOR WORKS OF HIGH ART. PROVIDENCE tempering the wind to the shorn lamb. ABSENCE OF MIND marking a box of paper shirt-collars with indelible | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042930 | ink. MILTON "going it blind." The late Mr. WILLIAM COBBETT teaching his sons to shave with cold water. ST. PATRICK emptying the snakes out of his boots. TRUE LOVE never running smooth. NO MAN acting _Hero_ to his _valet de chambre_. ROBERT BONNER taking DEXTER by the forelock with one hand, and TIME with the other. Subjects like these might | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042931 | be worked out to advantage. The field in which they are to be found is almost unlimited; and they possess abundantly the two grand essentials to success in art at the present time, as well as in literature--novelty and sensation. * * * * * H.G. and Terpsichore. AMONG the strange revelations about _Tribune_ people elicited during the MCFARLAND trial, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042932 | was the bit of gossip about Mr. GREELEY going to Saratoga to "trip the light fantastic toe." That Mr. GREELEY'S toe is "fantastic," every body who has ever inspected his "Congress gaiters" must know, but as to its lightness we have our doubts. "What I know about dancing" would be a capital subject for H.G. to handle, and we hope | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042933 | that he will take Steps for doing it. * * * * * Sweeny's New Charter. How doth the busy Peter B., Improve each shining hour! From nettled young Democracy, He plucks the safety-flower. * * * * * From Rome. The POPE is said to be "out of Spirits." Why doesn't he come to New-York, where he can get | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042934 | plenty of the article, either in the sense of the Tap or in that of the Rap? * * * * * "He who was Born to be Hanged," etc. On one of the mornings of the MCFARLAND trial, a very importunate person attempted to force his way into the court-room, which, as he was told, was already crowded "to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042935 | suffocation." To this he retorted that he "wasn't born to be suffocated." That's in substance what the late JACK REYNOLDS said, and _he_ was mistaken. * * * * * The Difference. Rice riots are reported as raging in all the ports of Japan. Rye was the principal mover in the famous conscription riots of New-York. * * * * | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042936 | * A Celestial Idea. No wonder the Chinese theatre in San Francisco is a success, considering how skilful the actors must be in catching the Cue. * * * * * JUMBLES. Did you ever hear of my friend BOOTSBY? "No." That's rather queer. I see--you've been out of town. BOOTSBY is a man of standing--of decided standing, I may | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042937 | say. He stands, in fact, a great deal. The heavy standing round he does is enormous when the limited capacity of a single mortal is taken in view. BOOTSBY stands round among every class of people, and especially of politicians and potationers. He stands round to talk, to hear, and especially to drink. The power of the man in this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042938 | last matter is wonderful, and the puzzle is, that his standing (and perpendicularity) is not perceptibly affected. Of course there are times when BOOTSBY'S standing is not so good. In so slippery a place as Wall Street, it is found to be less certain; while in a crowd on Broadway, waiting for a bus, it cannot be said to maintain | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042939 | a very remarkable firmness. But as a whole, and as the world goes, BOOTSBY is a man of standing. In the altitude of six feet ten, he may be called a man of high standing. He feels proud of the fact. "Is it not better to be a mountain than a mole?" he often asks in a proudly sneering manner | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042940 | of his neighbor PUGGS, who is about as far up in the world as the top of a yard-stick. It is very true that size is not quality, and a seven-footer may be no better than a three-footer; but it is observed that a Short Man is rarely any thing else. His stature is his measure throughout. My own impression | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042941 | of myself is, that I don't care to be short; but if the alternative were forced upon me, I should choose that of person rather than of purse. BOOTSBY does not care much about money, and he carries very little. Some people are like BOOTSBY, but most people are not. The ladies, it is true, never, or rarely, want money. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042942 | Like newspapers and club-houses, they are self-supporting. In fact they surround themselves with supporters which stay tightly. Mrs. TODD is peculiar in her wants pecuniary. She, good soul, never wants (or keeps) money long, but she doesn't want it _little_. She prefers it like onions, in a large bunch, and strong. The reason why most women do not want money | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042943 | is because they have no use for it. They never dress; they never wear jewelry; silks and satins have no charms in their eyes; laces, ribbons, shawls never tempt. To exist and walk upright in simpleness and quiet is the sum of their desires. Dear creatures! how is it that they never want? My neighbor, Mr. DROWSE, desires to know | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042944 | where you get all your funny things for PUNCHINELLO? He knows they are there, does Mr. DROWSE; for he gets my copy of the penny postman, and he keeps it, too. It is the only good taste my neighbor has displayed of late years. I tell Mr. DROWSE that you make your fun. He further asks, Where? I tell him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042945 | in the attic--up there where they keep the salt. He desires to know the size of attic. Of course he has never seen your noble, capacious, alabaster forehead, else he would perceive the source of those scintillations of light and warmth which radiate throughout the universe every Saturday for only ten cents. He is curious also to know about the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042946 | salt, and doesn't comprehend how or where you use it. He used to use it when a boy in catching birds by putting the briny compound on the tails of the same, and _that_ he used to call "fun alive;" but he don't see it--the salt--about PUNCHINELLO. I suspect Mr. DROWSE doesn't see the sellers, (certainly he avoids them when | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042947 | PUNCHINELLO is offered, much to my mortification, and one dime to my cost,) and so is not likely to discern the source of the fun. I merely informed Mr. DROWSE that the editor was very tall, very handsome, with very black skin and rosy hair, (at which he opened his eyes with astonishment, and asked if I meant so; at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042948 | which I said, "Yes, I guess so,") and that he laughed out of his nose, eyes, head, and hands, as well as his mouth. DROWSE wants to see the editor very much. He has seen men with black skins and hearts, (for he used to know lots of politicians;) but wants to put his vision on some "rosy hair"--and when | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042949 | he does, no doubt his gaze will be fixed. It is healthy sometimes to have the gaze fixed; and often, like sauce-pans and sermons, it has to be fixed. When Mr. DROWSE calls at , please show him in Parlor with the Brussels, fresco-work, and lace curtains. April is a model month. So serene, steady, clear, and balmy. Nothing but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042950 | blue sky, gentle zephyrs, kissing breezes, genial suns by day and sparkling stars by night. PUNCHINELLO no doubt likes sparkling stars--stars of magnitude--stars that show what they are. PUNCHINELLO perhaps goes to NIBLO'S, and not only sees plenty stars, but plenty of them. But of April. It is called "fickle;" but that's a slander. "Every thing by turns and nothing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042951 | long"--that is a libel on which a suit could be hung. The same vile falsehood is cruelly uttered of some women, when every body knows, or should know, that these same women are nothing of the sort. Who ever knew a fickle woman? Where in history is there record of such an Impossibility? Fickle--that implies a change of mind. What | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042952 | woman ever changed her mind any more than her hands? Nonsense, avaunt!--banished be slander! April is _not_ fickle--woman is _not_ fickle. As one is evenly beautiful, divinely serene, bewitchingly winning, so is the other sunny, cerulean, balmy, paradisiacal. April for ever--after that the rest of the calendar. Does PUNCHINELLO believe in the Woman Movement? TODD does. He believes woman should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042953 | move as much as man; and he regards her movement in such numbers to the great West as full of hope (and husbands) for the sex. Mrs. TODD has not as yet been irresistibly seized by the movement; but if TIMOTHY knows himself, he longs for the day when the seizer may come. Although TODD--who is the writer of this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042954 | epistle--says it, who perhaps shouldn't, lest the shaft of egotism be hurled mercilessly at him, he does unhesitatingly say that to aid this movement he would make the greatest of sacrifices. He is willing to sacrifice his wife and other female relations upon the sacred altar of the movement, and contribute liberally to the expense thereof. He is quite willing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042955 | they should vote--early and often, if need be; but he wishes to see the movement go westward like the Star of Empire--westward _vi_ cheerful Chicago. TODD trusts PUNCHINELLO will espouse this movement; for if it does, it--the movement, no less than PUNCHINELLO--will go straight onward and upward; but not by the route known as the Spout. Mucilage is a good | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042956 | thing. It is now extensively used in Church, State, and Society. We use it largely at the Veneerfront Avenue Church, of which Rev. Dr. ALEXANDER PLASTERWELL is pastor. Of course, Mr. PUNCHINELLO, you know that distinguished church, and have no doubt often listened to the distinguished Dr. PLASTERWELL. He is a kind man, has a high forehead, a Roman (Burgundy) | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042957 | nose, and a sweet, soft head--I should say heart. He has--great and good man--the largest faith in mucilage. He often makes it a text, and he sticks to it, he does--does Dr. PLASTERWELL. Nothing like mucilage, PUNCHINELLO. It is the hope of the human race, and the salvation of woman. It is the Philosopher's Stone in solution; the essence and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042958 | link which connects and cements all that is great, good, and lovely, in the past, present, and future. At least, such is the humble opinion of TIMOTHY TODD. * * * * * HINTS TO CAR CONDUCTORS. When standing in Printing House Square, your destination being Grand Street Perry or Bleecker Street, if a stranger asks whether you are going | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042959 | to Harlem, nod, as it is considered improper to answer in the negative. If he finds out the mistake, you can plead deafness. When called upon to stop, never attempt to comply. There are several reasons why you should not. In the first place, if you did stop, it would show that you have no will of your own, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042960 | since the passage of the Fifteenth Amendment, _all_ men are equal in this country. You may stop about two blocks from the place named, just to please yourself and prove your independence; but take particular care to start the car when the passenger is half off the steps. If there is a young surgeon in the neighborhood, you can enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042961 | into an arrangement to break arms and legs in this way with impunity, have the maimed "carried into the surgery," and share the fees with the operator. Occasional cases of manslaughter may take place; but don't mind that, as coroners' juries in New-York will return verdicts of "death from natural causes." Besides this, remember that you have a vote, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042962 | that both coroners and judges are dependent upon the people. When a lame old gentleman hails you, beckon him furiously to come on, but be sure, at the same time, to urge the driver to greater speed. It is no part of your business to have change, so never give any, but drive on: people should provide for and look | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042963 | after their own business and that is none of yours. Always drive through the centre of a target company or funeral procession, never minding whether you kill one or more, and then abuse the captain or the undertaker for his stupidity. By the adoption of these essential rules, and by adding a good deal of incivility, you will soon reach | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042964 | the top of the wheel of your profession and in due time have a testimonial presented to you by an admiring and grateful public. * * * * * Out in the Cold. Commissioner Tweed proposes a new outside Bureau of the Department of Public Works, for late-Commissioner MCLEAN. He is to be Superintendent of Refrigerators. * * * * | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042965 | * [Illustration: THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. ENGRAVED BY SPECIAL PERMISSION FOR PUNCHINELLO, FROM THE ORIGINAL PAINTING, BY MILES STANDISH, IN THE COLLECTION OF METHUSELAH PILGRIM, ESQ., OF PILGRIMSVILLE, MASS.] * * * * * TO CAPTAIN HALL. (IN ANTICIPATION OF HIS TRIP TO THE POLE.) HALL! HALL! D'ye hear our call? Or, do you fancy it to be A | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042966 | weather sign--merely the pre- Monition of a squall At sea! HALL! You pay no heed at all. Nevertheless, O hardy mariner! (A Snow-Bird brings this with our kindest love,) We're sorry you prefer Those frigid walks (ever so far above The 80th parallel, we guess!) To stocks, and tariffs, and domestic bliss; Yes, yes, Captain, we're sorry it has come | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042967 | to this! Why do you madly thirst For grog that's chopped up with a hatchet? say! And tell us of the first Strange thought which spurred you to go up that way! Was it the hope that on some icy coast (Frozen, yourself, almost!) You'd have the luck to meet poor FRANKLIN'S ghost? And has it seemed, sometimes, That drowning | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042968 | might be pleasanter up there Among the icebergs, native to those climes, Than where The surf breaks gently on some coral-reef, And sirens sweetly soothe one's slow despair? Say, was that your belief? And who is BENT?[*] Why was _he_ sent, With his Warm Currents wheeling round the Pole? A long, long race must his disciples run: No sun, No | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042969 | fun, No chance to toss a word to any one; And what a goal? As hopefully you munch The flinty biscuit, watching whale or seal, Or listening, undaunted, to the crunch Of ice-floes at the keel, Say, Sir Intrepid! shall you really think You pioneer the navies of the world? Not while the chink Of well-housed dollars sounds so pleasantly, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042970 | And safer tracks map out the treacherous sea! If that's your dream, oh! let your sails be furled. But, no! It is not this! Your spirit, high and bold, Scorning all tamer joys, will have it so! No cold Can chill its ardor! Such a soul would sate Its deathless craving in some lofty flight, Some deed sublime, and read | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042971 | its shining fate By the Aurora's light! For fruitful fellowship, it seeks the wild, The frozen waste, Where the world's venturous heroes--reconciled To sunless, shuddering gloom-- To joyless solitude--with ardor taste Their dread delights! and so at last find room, 'Mid nodding icebergs, for their watery tomb! For this, we spare you, O dauntless HALL! Once having breathed that air | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042972 | So pure, so fresh, so rare! And caught the wildness of the Esquimaux, We declare you Unfit to live where beans and lettuce grow! Leave delving to the little pitiful mole, Great soul! And now, then, for the Pole! [Footnote *: Captain BENT, of Cincinnati, originator of the new theory of Polar Currents.] * * * * * [Illustration: FINANCIAL | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042973 | RELIEF MR. BUMBLE BOUTWELL TO MRS. CORNEY FISH. _(See Oliver Twist.)_ "THE GREAT PRINCIPLE OF FINANCIAL RELIEF IS TO GIVE THE BUSINESS MEN EXACTLY WHAT THEY DON'T WANT: THEN THEY GET TIRED OF COMING."] * * * * * CONDENSED CONGRESS. SENATE. MR. SUMNER said he was the friend of the oppressed. That, as was well known, was his regular | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042974 | business. Unfortunately, the Fifteenth Amendment had rendered the colored man incapable of being hereafter regarded as an oppressed creature. He was sorry, but it could not be helped. He was therefore forced to go down the chromatic scale of creation and find another class of clients. He found them in cattle. HOMER had sung about the ox-eyed Juno, and WALTER | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042975 | WHITMAN about bob veal. COWPER had remarked that he would not number in his list of friends the man who needlessly set foot upon a cow. He mentioned these things merely to show that railway companies had no right to starve cattle. He proposed an amendment to the Constitution, to provide that a dinner of at least three courses should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042976 | be given to cows daily. Mr. DRAKE was heartily in favor of the proposition. He had got his feet in a web, so to speak, by paddling in the political waters of Missouri, and some people had gone so far as to call him "quack." He demanded redress. Mr. WILSON didn't see the use of all this legislation to protect | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042977 | animals. Animals had no votes, although he admitted a partial exception, in that every bull, it had its ballot. But he had something practical. Here was a jolly job, the Pacific Railway grant. There was a good deal more in it than they had made out of any other GRANT. Mr. THURMAN'S suggestion, that this land ought to be occupied | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042978 | by actual settlers, he scorned. "Actual settlers" were of a great deal more use to him in Massachusetts, where they could vote for him, than in the territories, where that boon would not be extended to them. It was much better that they should be occupied by imaginary settlers, who could pay and not vote. Actual "settlings" were the dregs | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042979 | of humanity. The Georgia bill came up, as it does every day with much more regularity than luncheon. The Senate has succeeded in muddling it to that degree of unintelligibility that nobody has the slightest notion what it provides. It is, therefore, in a condition to give rise to infinite debate. After several senators had said enough for a foundation | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042980 | for thirty columns each in the _Globe,_ they let it go for the present. The present was the one promised by Senator WILSON in return for the Pacific Railway grab grant. HOUSE. The House is given over to the tariff. A very indelicate discussion has been had upon corsets. Mr. BROOKS was of opinion that the corset would tariff it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042981 | were subjected to any more strain in the way of duties. Mr. MARSHALL remarked that the corset avoided a great deal of Waist. It was whalebone of his bone, or something of that sort. It was one of the main Stays of our social system. Mr. SCHENCK made another speech. He ripped up the foreign corset in a truculent manner. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042982 | He said that American corsets were far superior, only American women had not the sense to see it. The effect of taking off the duty on corsets would be to take off the corsets. Mr. BROOKS called the hooks and ayes on the corsets. Mr. SCHENCK opposed the call. He had found a simple tape much preferable. He wished a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042983 | coffer-dam might be put upon the roaring BROOKS. Somebody at this point brought up a contested election case; but Mr. LOGAN objected to its being considered. What, he asked, was the use of wasting time? There was money in the tariff. There was no money at all in voting a Democrat out, and a Republican in. They could do that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042984 | any day in five minutes. His friend Mr. BUTLER had recently remarked, one Democrat more or less made no difference. But Mr. BUTLER forgot that the larger the majority, the larger the divisor for spoils, and therefore the smaller the quotient and the "dividend." He did not know much about arithmetic. He had never been at West Point; but he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042985 | believed that a million dollars, for instance, would go further and fare worse among two hundred men than among three. If the House were not careful, there would be a glut of Republicans in it, and the shares would be pitifully meagre. As for him, he had a great mind, (derisive cheers)--he repeated, that he had a great mind to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042986 | vote for a Democrat next time. In spite of Mr. LOGAN'S warning, the House voted in a couple or so of Republicans, and then resumed the duty on wool. Mr. Cox thought this wool had been pulled over the eyes of the house often enough. It reminded him of an expedition, of which Mr. LOGAN had never heard, in search | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042987 | of a "Golden Fleece." Mr. JENCKES, and Mr. SCHENCK, and Mr. KELLEY called him to order in behalf of their constituents, who were in the wool business, and said that "wool" in one form or another had always been the staple of their political career. Mr. BUTLER said he had a little game worth two of that. He wanted to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042988 | buy San Domingo. In this there were plenty of commissions, and hundreds of thousands of colored votes. * * * * * FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT. ALDERMANIC RECEPTION UP-TOWN. CAESAR, walk in! Ah POMPEY! how d'e do? This way, CLEM! Gentlemen, please walk right through! GEORGE, how's your mother? Fine day, PETE--fine day! Well, how are things down there at Oyster Bay? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042989 | Ah AUNTIE! how's your rheumatiz, this spring? Well, Mr. JOHNSON, did you try that sling? Why, this is Uncle STEVE! How-do-you-do. Uncle? Sit down. What can I do for you? Well, Mr. PRINCE! You must be busy, now. Whitewashing is the best thing done, I vow! Why, hel-lo! REGIS! From the Cape so soon? When do you open, this year--first | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042990 | of June? Come, gentlemen--some wine? Now, don't refuse! What! temperate? teetotal? Well, that's news! And good news, too! Well, coffee, then. You see, My friends, the _sentiment's_ the thing with me. The real Mocha, AUNTIE! Simon pure! Raised by free Arabs. For I can't endure A single thing that's flavored with a Wrong! Yes, AUNTIE, you are right, I've "come | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042991 | out strong!" So have the Colored People, I may say! (One fact explains the other, up this way!) They've proved their strength! It's settled, sure as a gun, That every Colored Voter now counts One! Now, gentlemen, you'll be surprised to find So many people with your turn of mind! But, sure as tricks! remember what I say-- You'll learn | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042992 | some things before Election Day! POMPEY--'twon't take much time, (and you can spare it!) Try this old fiddle, picked up in the garret! Good? It's your fiddle! AUNTIE, here's a pound Of that same genuine Mocha, ready ground! Say, Uncle STEVE, I've got a fish for you, Down at the market. Call again, PETE; do! I'll have a job for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042993 | you and CAESAR soon: It's only waiting for a change of moon. CLEM, how'd you like a chance to wait on table? Or, would you rather drive, and run my stable? GEORGE, in the kitchen there's a pan of souse! Going? All gone? Now, BRIDGET, air the house! * * * * * Historic Parallel. THE JACK CADE movement came | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042994 | near destroying London. The Ar-Cade movement threatens to destroy Broadway. * * * * * [Illustration: A CHEAP LUXURY. SNIFFLES LOVES THE SMELL OF ROASTED CHESTNUTS, AND ENJOYS IT FOR HOURS EVERY DAY; BUT HE NEVER EATS ANY--WHICH ACCOUNTS FOR THE JOYOUS EXPRESSION ON THE FACE OF THE VENDER.] * * * * * BUSINESS. A CHICAGO LAY. I saw | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042995 | her sweet lip quiver, As he started for the store. Because he hadn't kissed her "Several" times or more. She cried "This horrid business!" And then flew to her glass; "Oh! why his cold remissness? Have I grown plain, alas?" But no, that truthful article Revealed her charms intact, She hadn't lost one particle, But had improved, in fact. At | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042996 | nine the case was opened, At ten the case was o'er; The jury brought their virdict-- She was his wife no more. That night the husband started, And--"_you_ bet"--he swore, To find his wife departed, And "_To Let_" on the door. Next day he moved and married. And, that his bride might stay, He kissed her every morning Before he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042997 | went away. * * * * * Pot-umania. A correspondent writes that a new mania has sprung up among the ladies of Edinburgh--a fancy for learning to cook. There is a much older mania in some parts of that country--a fancy for something to cook. * * * * * About a Foot. A BOOT when it's on. * * | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042998 | * * * IMPORTANT TO PUBLISHERS. One of our corps of Philosophers (a trifle visionary, perhaps) has been speculating as to certain possible (or, perhaps, impossible) results flowing from the practice among publishers of ante-dating their monthly issues. Thus, supposing that the world should be destroyed by fire (and why not? it is bad enough) on the 15th of May, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000042999 | , and a cover of, say, _Putnam's_ for June, carried up by an air-current, should, after floating about ever so long in space, finally descend on some friendly planet--we will say, Venus. Here it would naturally get picked up by an archaeologist, (who would be on the spot looking out for it,) and the interesting relic would be promptly and | 60 | gutenberg |
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