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the ripple which a little steamer makes as she and the British thunderer has declared her equal, comes puffing out of the hazy distance on the lake if not superior, to Mrs. Siddons. She has pur-now dushing through the shadow of some near chased a house in Paris for a million of francs, and shore, and then sauntering through the sunshine the Count Montanelli has crowned his late literary of a bay; quivering and plashing as she comes honors by writing for her a new tragedy. nearer, leaving a long trail of sparkles in her wake, Then the company of the Bouffés-Parisiens has turning out bright furrows of blue-dashing and gone to London, played in London; and the Duke splashing on-now in a line with the white chateau d'Aumale, who has a delightful country-house where Byron lived and wrote "Chillon," and now down by Twickenham, which he calls Orleans over against the old home of Madame de Staël, and House (metamorphosed from an old school-build20w, while we look and listen, drawing toward the ing — the view thereabout being ravishing the town—the quay—where her paddles stop, where Duke, we say, heard of the presence of the Bouffésshe drifts nearer and nearer, backs, splutters, turns Parisiens in London, and his old mother, the Queen up an acre of foam, and rests.

of Louis Philippe, being wth him upon a visit, he Sliall we sail upon her to-morrow? Shall we conceived the idea of surprising her with a Paris take char-i-banc, and drive down to Chamouni? play again. So it was all quietly arranged : a litShall we idle through the fields toward Lausanne ? tle company, an improvised orchestra, a grass plat Or shall we linger here at our window, watching for parquette, and a refrain to the final chorus of the people come and go, watching the water, watch- “Vive la France!" All this, with the French uniing the clouds that now shroud the mountains, or form of the line, overwhelmed the old lady so, that -what?

the issue came near making true again Madame Don't

you could ask yourselves ? Girardin's story of La joie fait peur." Suppose we step into the coffee-room below and Next we have that sad, strange tale of Miss have a look at the “last files." A table by the Glasgow Smith—not in Galignani only, but on the window, a dish of tea, and—to begin with-yester- lips of English and Scotch people around us. Did day's Galignani.

she kill her lover? The feeling is-she did. And And what a contemptible, interesting paper Gal- what sad, weary, never-ceasing punishment will ignani always is! Such a gossip--such a robber rest upon her! “ Not proven," indeed, but felt. of good things such a contumacious, impertinent And now, let us see what Lord Ellenborough snapper-up of trifles—such a toady of the British, will be saying about the new tide of affairs in India. such a toady of the Emperor-such a toady of ev- The old gentleman should be competent to speak ery thing that represents power-such a careful to such a point, for he has been in India-has held ignorance of all worthiness that is weak, and of all command there; he is grave, instructed, cool. We badness which is secret! How should any body think we see him rising to his feet in that august not like to sip Galignani with his tea ? How we assembly of England's patricians, and seem to lisall despise gossips, and how we all listen to them! ten to an old man who has himself felt the heats

And first we find somewhat again about the of Delhi : Spiritualist Hume, who, it appears, is again in “ Milords," he says, after he has deplored the Paris, astonishing all who have the rare fortune to action of particular officers in India and recited cersee his performances. His hotel is represented as tain details of the mutiny—“milords, it devolves besieged by applicants, noble and vulgar, who en- upon me now to ask where was the Commander-intreat his presence at their soirées. The other day Chief all this time—why was not he in the midst he was at Fontainebleau, making diablerie repre- of his troops? He knew the difficulties that were sentations before the imperial cirole, and again we growing up-he knew of the danger that threathear of him in Paris, in the salon of a Polish Count, ened; for on the 9th of April he assembled the where his feats seemed to such an extent supernat- troops at Umballah, and addressed them in very ural that a large number of the lady guests fainted sensible terms, endeavoring to undeceive them as through terror.

to the intentions of the government, and to bring We do not learn that the secret of his power has them to a right state of feeling; but having done yet engaged the attention of the Academists. so, it appears he went away to the hills, leaving

The photograph of the eminent sorcerer is upon behind him the dangers that threatened in the sale along all the Boulevard. “There is," says our plain. (Hear, hear.) That, my lords, I venture gossip, “ in the physiognomy inspiration and as- to say, is not the conduct that ought to be pursued. piration toward a better world. The looks, direct- I should say, from all that I have read, that the ed without affectation to heaven, are at once firm measures taken by the government of India from and gentle. One feels that they reach further the time that the danger became apparent-from than those of most men, but always upward." the time they knew of the retreat upon and the

On the faith of this photograpb, those good souls occupation of Delhi by the mutineers, have been who would have exorcised him as a demon may judicious and proper; but, my lords, I do ques. rest assured that his alliances, if they reach beyond tion their conduct in being blind to that which was the world, are with good spirits, and not with bad. obvious to all, and in omitting to take any precauThere is nothing of the charlatan in the counte- tions until this dreadful calamity actually took nance, and far less of the demon than of the angelic. place. (Hear, hear.) But what is the position

Yet his power is unequal, and fluctuates like the of General Anson? He has at his disposal two funds at the Bourse. To-day he fails utterly in European regiments of infantry, two regiments of producing his miracles, and to-morrow he shall European cavalry, and an ample force of artillery. startle into movement every object upon which he He has also two regiments of Ghoorkas, who may tixes his magnetic regard.

be depended upon, and he has, I hope, still faithHere, again, we have chat about Ristori. She ful two regiments of native troops. My lords, is to remain in Paris these three winters to come. with such a force, independent of other native Fiorentini now boldly claims her as the first living troops, if he had met the mutineers in the field, he tragedian, to the great discomfort of poor Rachel; I might without difficulty have beat them or double

1

their force. But, my lords, he is opposed by two present moment we can not with safety rely on
enemies far more powerful than the mutineers, the tidelity of any of the regular regiments of the
the climate at this season of the year, and the Bengal army."
almost absolute want of carriage. It is almost So we wander from Twickenham to India, from
impossible for General Anson to move his troops Miss Smith to Ferozepore, and back again to our
down from their cantonments without means of tea and toast by our window of the Hotel des
carriage transport, and carriages are, I believe, Bergues.
unobtainable ; his only resource is to press men Shall we stroll by the lake, now that the sun is
from the hills. In this way he may possibly setting ?
bring down 2000 or 3000 men to carry burdens, but An English girl, in broad, brown flat, and with
to obtain the necessary carriages and animals for light rod of Alfred's make, is throwing a fly upon
moving an army a distance of 80 or 100 miles I | the water; she makes a deft cast, the action show-
believe to be impossible. Then there is the season, ing a lithe figure and firm, in most happy attitudes.
which, as I have said, is the most severe of the Think of a New York girl, in the eye of the loiter-
whole year. This is just the conclusion of the hot ers from a great hotel, indulging in such amuse-
weather. During the prevalence of the hot winds ment! Think of one (if you can) capable of such
we know that Europeans can not venture abroad vigorous casts as she is making yonder !
in the sun.

No European soldier is able to do his Some duenna-it may be a mamma, it may be
ordinary duties in the sun. Your lordships will an elder sister-is seated upon the parapet near by,
recollect that on one occasion when the late Sir C. catching the last sun's rays for a new consultation
Napier was compelled to go into the field during of her "Murray." A tall man, thoroughly British,
the hot season, 45 Europeans were struck down in in blue-spotted cravat, with red cheeks and yellow
one day, and of the whole 45 he was the only one gaiters, is sauntering near by, with two chatter-
that survived the stroke. This is the most serious ing little girls, who are entreating a sail upon the
danger we have to meet. But, my lords, I will lake. An elegant Miss Simpkins, in blue, red,
assume that General Anson is able to bring his and yellow silk, of the latest Parisian cut (we fear
troops in front of Delhi-and if he can do so, he she may be American), is exhibiting the art of her
ought by this time to be in possession of that place modiste, and exclaiming, in pretty, romantic com-
-he ought to be in possession of it, not in conse- monplace, upon the beauty and the quiet of the
quence of any attack by bis artillery, but by the scene.
most simple of all means-namely, by changing The resonance of a vesper-bell from a gray tower
the course of the canal by which Delhi is furnished beyond the Rhone is floating and dying on the wa-
with water, and turning it so as to deprive the in- , ter. The sun has slipped away from all the west
habitants of their supply. Toward the conclusion windows, where just now it blazed-has slipped
of the dry season there is but very little water in from the house-roofs, and from the towers, and all
that canal, and the population of Delhi, 160,000 or the nearer hills; and, as we look, has faded from
170,000 in number, are annually subjected to great the Savoy mountains, leaving them gray and cold,
inconvenience and difficulty from that cause. They and has fastened upon the peaks of snow beyond
are then compelled to go a considerable distance to Chamouni-sixty miles away as the crow flies--
the Jumna for their water. To obviate that diffi-tinging them with rosy red.
culty in some degree, when I was in India I es Shall we stray thither to-morrow? 'Tis a sud-
tablished in connection with the palace an im- den fancy, and by the time the young English gir)
mense tank, which contained sufficient for supply- has withdrawn ber tackle and disjointed her rod, it
ing the whole of the inhabitants with water for has grown into determination. We will go straight-
three weeks; but I regret to say, with that spirit way and book ourselves for Chamouni. A half
which has marked the government ever since I left coach half diligence traverses the road and leaves
to obliterate as far as possible every thing I ever at six ; we secure an outside place, and stroll back
did or attempted to do for the benefit of that coun to our inn, where once more, by candle-light, we
try, that tank has been allowed to fall into ruin, resume our outlook through the journals upon the
and at this time the inhabitants of that place can gay and perplexed life of Paris.
not obtain water without having recourse to the

What do we sce now? A magnificent procescanal. When I left India I left police battalions, sion ; soldiers by tens of thousands; martial bands which were formed to enable the government, in waking echoes of a dirge between the houses. Oncase of emergency, to move all the troops out of lookers sad and earnest, and grouping in fearful their cantonments upon any particular spot. By multitudes. Five hundred thousand are upon the this means, when the invasion of the Sikhs took walks, the balconies, the roofs.

Women we see, place, General Hardinge was enabled at once to with black scarfs, black vails—any token to show move on three battalions from their cantonments grief. to the scene of action, which he could not else In the front of the cortège, upon which all eyes have moved without leaving the places from which are turned, we see a company of the Sergents de they were drawn unprotected. But General Anson Ville, the police of Paris; after these a squadron had no such police battalions to fall back upon. of the mounted guard ; then two dark, plain carHe must either leave an imposing force to protect riages, within which we catch glimpse of surplice the extensive cantonments at Meerut, Umballah, and of crucifix; another company of the police of the and other places, or, as the force moves away from city; and after these a funeral car-heavy, dark, Umballah, their cantonments will be burned down simple-with black plumes and white, waving with behind them. And we know that no European every motion. Above the heads of those who foltroops can stand in the full blaze of an Indian sun low-a stricken little group of family mourners without shelter. It is not only at Meerut and we see the great plumes waving still; and over the Delhi, but in the Punjaub, at Ferozepore, and in heads of city dignitaries in their robes, who follow, every part of Bengal, that this disposition to still we see the great plumes nodding; a brilliant mutiny exists. I regret to say that I fear at the laid-de-camp of the Emperor, with gold epaulets

and jingling sword-chains, does not shut off, or terpolate here a little song of the dead master, by make us cease to watch, the mournfully-nodding a translation which is little known, about plumes of black and white which wave over the MY LISETTE, SHE IS NO MORE! bier. And now we have a carriage of the imperial

What! Lisette, can this be you? stables-four horses with funereal deckings—but

You in silk and sarcenet! the windows are closed; no one is there. If it were

You in rings and brooches too! a king going to the grave, still none would ride aft

You in plumes of waving jet! er in the imperial carriage.

Oh, no, no, no, Nearly every shop is shut where the procession

Surely you are not Lisette !

Oh, no, no, no, trails by.

My Lisette, you are no more! And whose body is lying under the plumes which wave yonder, far now by the column of the Bastile ?

How your feet the ground despise,

All in shoes of satin set; Only a poet's!

And your rouge with roses viesOnly a songster's !

Pritbee where didst purchase it? Yet what a poet and what a singer was Bé

Oh, no, no, no, ranger!

Surely you are not Lisette ! "As to my funeral obsequies” (he wrote latter

Oh, no, no, no, ly thus to his friend and publisher, M. Perrotin),

My Lisette, you are no more! " if you can avoid public demonstration, do it, Round your boudoir wealth has spread I beg you, my dear Perrotin. When I lose friends,

Gilded couch and cabinet, I have a horror of public clamor and of discourses

Silken curtains to your bed,

All that heart can wish to get. at their tomb."

But oh, no, no, no, And of this dying wish the Emperor has become

Surely you are not Lisette! self-appointed executor. There were only a few

Oh, no, no, no, friends, indeed, admitted within the grave-yard

My Lisette, you are no more! inclosure, and no speech there; but in all else,

Simpering, you twist your lip what a magnificent lie!

To a smile of etiquette; Loving friends, who dare not come near; loving Not a sign of mirth must slip voices, that dare not speak; and all that army

Past the bounds your teachers stt; of Paris, which the dead poet loved as men and

Oh, no, no, no, scorned as soldiers, appearing only in musket

Surely you are not Lisette!

Oh, no, no, no, mockery-a kind of machine pomp—with no word,

My Lisette, you are no more! no look of the silent and tender sympathy that bound their hearts to the songs of the dead man!

Far away the days, alas!

When in cabin cold and wet, Was there ever such a painting of a corpse ! and

Love's imperial mistress was painting it in colors most odious to the poet when

Nothing but a gray grisette. alive!

Oh, no, no, no, It is hard for a man not a Frenchman to under

Surely you are not Lisette! stand the regard in which Béranger was held ev

Oh, no, no, no, ery where in Paris and in France. The poor, strug

My Lisette, you are no more! gling, ambitious, honest Scotchmen, who toss off You, ah me! when you had caught an annual bumper to Burns, know something of

My poor heart in silken net, it. But the Béranger feeling is the Burns feel

Never then denied mc aught,

Never played this proud coquette ing intensified. It is a Burns's Yule-log, always

Oh, no, no, no, burning.

Surely you are not Lisette! How is this ? Not alone because his songs pen

Oh, no, no, no. etrated the humblest hearts, and kindled love and

My Lisette, you are no more! joy there always; not alone because he assumed

Wedded to a wealthy fool, their sufferings, and became the expression of their

Paying dear for leave to fret! fondest as well as their faintest hopes ; not alone Though his love be somewhat cool because he caught and reflected all the blaze of their

Be content with what you get. endeavor ; not altogether because he gave so quick

Oh, no, no, no, and biting a tongue to their griefs, and such pas

Surely you are not Lisette !

Oh, no, no, no, sionate, fearful distinctness to their curses against

My Lisette, you are no more! a damning tyranny, but because every act of his

If that love divine be true, life was true to his every word!

'Tis when fair and free are met; He told no grief he did not feel. He pictured no

As for you, Madame, adieuhumility he did not act—no poverty whose pinch

Let the haughty Duchess fret! he did not know--no despotism at which his great

For oh, no, no, no, heart had not rebelled, in deed as in word. The

Surely she is not Lisette! whole flow of his verse was a translucent river of

Oh, no, no, no, feeling and thought, whose soul-bed every man

My Lisette, she is no more! knew and saw. He covered no vice to which he Kow strange! This plaintive Lisette-lover has had fallen victim; he affected no purity he had five hundred thousand mourners crowding to his not reached. How he sung

tomb! It was not the artist they honored-not the "Lisette, ma Lisette,

lover-not the democrat even-but the true-heartTu m'as trompé toujours;

ed man! Mais vive la grisette,

Swift upon this mention (the date of the journal Je bois à nos amours !"

is but a trifle later) comes the story of Eugene Sue's 'Twas a great, fond, honest heart he had, and a death. And what contrast! Yet the Paris world quick brain for interpreter.

was never more eager for a new song-book of BéShall we weary our reader (surely not) if we in- ranger's than it had been for the Wandering Jew.

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But it was for a splendid spectacle those people Rave ceaselessly: but thou, most awful Form!
crowded--of passion, indeed-poverty, may be

Risest from forth thy silent soa of pines,
life, always and every where. But the man sunk

How silently! Around thee and above below the artist; he never lived up to the level of

Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black,

An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it
his thought. Sue's self-indulgence overcame him;

As with a wedge!"
he put all his feeling on paper; his sympathies
taxed his imagination only: It was Lisette in satin. they?” says our friend.

“Goats are a pretty tractable animal, ain't Plumes there may be waving in his funeral cortége,

** Yes--tractable." but no heart-sighs fan them.

_" But when I look again,
And now to bed. One last look upon the night.

It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine,
The stars are out, and dance and play in the wa Thy habitation from eternity !--"
ter. But the mountains are dim banks, which

COUNTRYMAN. “How fur is the furthest you
might be clouds—dim banks, where, in our dreams, can see Mount Blank of a clear day?"
we see white glories crowding!

Easy CHAIR. “Ninety miles."
Crick-crack, crick-crack, crick-crack (over the

COLERIDGE.
paving-stones), rumble, rumble, rumble (over a

-") dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee smooth Macadam), and we go bowling down the road

Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, that leads to Chamouni; passport all right, knap Didst vanish from my thought; entranced in prayer sack repacked, and we eager for the mountains.

I worshiped the Invisible alone!" There is an American beside us upon the top of COUNTRYMAN (renewing his quid). “That's an the coach ; he is chewing a quid; he is unshaven; all-fired distance." he wears the air of an independent citizen. It is

Easy CHAIR (indignant) quotes Coleridge aloud : a grand air to wear, but does not involve impu

"Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, dence or conceit. There are too many who think So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, it does.

Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, * Parley English ?" says he, interrogatively. Yea, with my life, and life's own secret joy: We tell him that we have that faculty.

Till the dilating Soul, enwrapt, transfused,
“You speak it pretty well,” says he.

Into the mighty vision passing-there
We bow in acknowledgment. We somehow

As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven!" dread the thought of having this man's talk in our Our countryman has chewed violently through ear as we catch our first near view of Mont Blanc. this; but he is not to be put off the track-not he. There seems no hope of escape, however.

“Do you know Saxe ?" says he.
“Do you live about here, Sir?” continues he. We have not that pleasure.
No, we do not; we half wish we did.

"He's a fine poet."
“Well, now, I shouldn't ; I should rather live Coleridge again :
on a praree” (he spits); “I'm from Ameriky, Sir." “Awake, my soull not only passive praise

Thou owest! not alone these swelling tears,
“P’raps you don't know what a praree is, Sir?”.

Mute thanks, and secret ecstasy! Awake,

Voice of sweet song! Awake, my Heart, awake! A plain country,” we venture.

Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn!"
"Well, Sir, it's a plain, to be sure; but you
don't have such plains in this country_about as

My countryman is quieted, and we bowl along, large as all Switzerland, Sir; and the sile about under shade of wooded cliffs, over long reaches of so deep, Sir" (taking my Alpenstock and measuring level valley road, until at length, not far from noonabout three feet upon the bottom, expectorating day, upon a bridge that crosses by a single arch the violently at the end of his observation).

turbid Arve, a great gap opens in the mountains " Indeed!"

before us; and in it---beyond it-filling it-topA peasant, upon a hillside near by, is gathering ping it-topping every thing in the view-in your up a little patch of hay; he collects it in a sheet, thought - in your anticipations -- Mont Blanc! and bears it off upon his shoulders.

Propped by ridges of aiguilles, the great dome

shines white in the sun.
Our quick-eyed countryman observes it.
“Halloa ! see there! a feller putting hay into a

We gaze, half hoping our countryman does not sheet! I should like to put that feller down plump

see it.
into the middle of a praree, and just see him stare!

But he does though, “Halloa! I say, that is a
Do you suppose now, Sir, that that's all his crop?" stunner!"
We think it possible.

We fly to Coleridge:
“And how many cows do you suppose he keeps?”.

“Thou, too, hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Not many, we think.

Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, “No, Sir-ee !"

Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene

Into the depth of clouds, that vail thy breast-
"Perhaps goats.”

Thou too again, stupendous Mountain! thou
It is a new idea to our countryman.

That as I raise my bead, awhile bowed low
“They keep goats about here, do they, Sir?” In adoration, upward from thy baso
We have sometimes seen them.

Slow traveling with dim eyes suffused with tears, “And do goats pay, Sir, as things go ?”

Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud,
Do you pity us? How, after this, shall we draw

To rise before me. Rise, oh ever rise,

Rise like a cloud of incense from the Earth!
our thoughts into the right mood for Chamouni ?

Thou kingly Spirit throned among the hills,
We have it!

Thou dread enibassador from Earth to Heaven,
We will hum to ourselves (and you, reader) Great hierarch! tell thou the silent sky,
Coleridge's great Hymn:

And tell the stars, and tell you rising sun,

Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God!"
“Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star
In bis steep course? So long he soems to pause

" I suppose that's Mount Blank ?"
On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc!

Our countryman is right. It is Mont Blanc we The Arve and Arveiron at thy base

see; and at his feet we lay down our pen.

"Ah!"

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Editor's Drawer.

and advised him to jump out and run. He took

my advice, as in duty bound, and by this time he THE bar and the pulpit are fruitful sources of is more than two miles off.” TH

supply for the Drawer, and the following from the bench are admirable in their way:

LEAVING the bench and the bar, we have some Judge Strong, our County Judge, was formerly reminiscences of a Georgia constable which are -well, it was some years ago-given to imbibing very refreshing : more than was essential to the equilibrium of his Houston County, Georgia, boasts of the politest mental or physical powers. But he was one of the man and the most efficient constable in the State. politest men in the world, and never more so than Captain Spikes, of the 1631st district, G. M., is when a little too deep in liquor. With his neigh- well known, and so popular that it is not improbbor, Mr. Bates, a political opponent, he had had able he would have been made Governor, but his many a sharp contlict; but one day, when quite services in his present important office could not mellow, it suddenly struck him that he ought to be readily dispensed with. It would be difficult to "make up friends” with Bates; and stepping up hold court if Captain Spikes was out of the place, to him in the street he said:

and one of the Judges of the Circuit, on his arrival “ I say, Mr. Bates, you and I have said a great at Perry, always makes it a point to ask if Captain many hard things about one another, and I am Spikes is on hand, for he says if he is not, he shall getting old, and feel as if I ought to make an apol- adjourn over. At the last Spring Term of the Court, ogy for all I have said, and have it settled up.” a newly-admitted member of the bar made his ap

"Oh, never mind," said Mr. Bates, “ let it pass; pearance; and a striking appearance it was, as and if you keep quiet hereafter I'll be satisfied." Nature had lavished upon his ungainly shoulders

“No, no," said the Judge; “I owe you an apolo- a head of flaming red hair, so brilliant and blazing gy, for I've called you a rogue, a thief, and a liar.” as to shine instantly on the eyes of all around him. "Well, never mind."

As he attempted to pass within the bar with the "Yes, but I do mind. I say I have called you other lawyers, Captain Spikes presented his staff a thief, and a liar, and a scoundrel-and-and- of office, and gently intimated that he could not I'll be hanged if I don't think just so still !" come in, as the seats were reserved for the lawyers.

Judge Doane was another of our County Judges, “But I am a lawyer." recently deceased, a very profane man himself, but “I should think not,” said Captain Spikos; very sensitive on the proprieties of the court-room. o the Court won't allow it, and I can not let you An Irishman, being called as a witness, used so in, Sir.” much profanity that the Judge reproved him sharp General Warren, a well-known member of the ly, and threatened to fine himn if he swore again. bar, hearing the conversation, interposed, and told The Irishman knew the swearing habits of the the Captain that the young gentleman had been Judge so well that he thought him only in jest, recently admitted, and was a real lawyer. and soon broke out again.

"Well, 'taint possible-sartingly 'taint possible; “Mr. Clerk,” said the Judge, “enter a fine of but go in, Sir-go in, Sir-I give it up. You're ten dollars against the witness."

the first red-headed lauyer I ever seed !" Pat paid up, and, turning to the bench, said: Such an oflicer as Captain Spikes comes, in time, “Ye are a Judge, are ye?"

to be an important branch of the government, and “I am, Sir," answered the Judge, quite pomp- assumes the place of Court and jury in certain ously.

cases that seem too plain to require a more formal “Well, ye look more like a creeminal, and so ye trial. are; for the little I swair isn't to be thought on by Twenty years ago the County of Dooly, adjointhe side of the almightenest blasphainies of yer ing Houston, had a hard population, not very scruhoner. Bad luck to yer honer!”

pulous about the distinction in property, especial. The Judge would have been glad to fine him ly in the matter of pigs and chickens, which they over again; but there was too much truth in this would take wherever they could find them. Jerry witness's testimony, and he let him off.

Barns had been arrested for robbing a roost, and Judge Strong, of whom the first of these stories being brought up to Court, where the justice was is told, is the very magistrate who made his mark, too slow to suit the summary notions of the conwhen quite a youthful lawyer, by the ingenious stable, Captain Spikes assumed the duty of laying counsel which he gave a client, and cleared him down the law to the jury, telling them if they entirely and very unexpectedly. He practiced in didn't find Jerry guilty, he should take him into Jefferson County, and a prisoner being arraigned his own hands. The jury left the matter with for theft, who had no counsel, the Court appointed Spikes, who proceeded to sentence him forthwith: young Strong to that service, directing him to con You done it, you know you did; and now you fer with the prisoner, and give him the best advice may have your choice to go to jail six months or he could under the circumstances. He retired take twenty-five lashes." with his client to an adjacent room for consulta Jerry chose the latter ; and, after going through tion, and when an officer was sent to inform them the course of sprouts, he said he wouldu't have that the Court was waiting, Strong was found minded it much if they had trimmed the hickories alone, and returned with the officer into the court- smooth, but the stubs had stuck in his back, and

he was afraid it would make it sore. But Captain “Where is your client?” demanded the Judge. Spikes warned him that the next time he was “ He has left the place," replied the lawyer. caught he should have the lashes and the six

“Left the place !" cried the Judge. " What do months to boot. you mean, Mr. Strong ?"

“Why, your honor directed me to give him the While we are in Georgia let us hear from Morbest advice I could under the circumstances. He gan County, in which John Sturgis lives, who is told me he was guilty, and so I opened the window said by some to be even more polite than Captain

room.

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