Chapter VIII: Part 8

Expressive words, and only too true! * * * NOT less than a 'good many' readers of the KNICKERBOCKER can 'place' the parties who figure in this little anecdote, which we are assured is entirely authentic: 'A young lady named TAYLOR, meeting a former acquaintance named MASON, at a party, where the latter was assuming any quantity of importance in consequence of her wealth, and who did not deign to notice her, revenged herself by stepping into the group surrounding the haughty belle, and thus addressing her, with the most winning smile: 'I have been thinking, my dear MISS MASON, that we ought to exchange names.' 'Why, indeed?' 'Because my name is TAYLOR, and my father was a mason; and your name is MASON, and your father was a tailor.' There was a scene then; but there was no help for it. * * * 'I WAS exceedingly amused,' writes a Boston friend, 'by your double-brace of '_The Practical Jokes of the late Colonel E. L. Snow_.' I knew that original 'Joker' well. There was never any _mischief_ in his fun: it was always harmless and always good-natured. I spent a winter four years ago in your 'Great Metropolis,' and saw much of 'THE COLONEL' in the very barber's shop which you designate. One cold blustering morning he came in, and as he took his seat in the 'operator's chair,' he said, with a 'wondering' expression of countenance: 'That is a strange thing about the Fountain: it's frozen over sixty feet high!' 'Is that _so?_' asked three or four gentlemen, seated on a sofa, waiting their 'turn.' 'Yes: it's a fact: I saw it myself before I came in.' Out they rushed, to the Park Fountain, which at _that_ time used to throw up its white column of water into the clear, cold air. Pretty soon they came back 'disgusted,' and looking daggers at SNOW, 'It's all a lie!' they said: 'the Fountain is playing eighty feet high: HUMBUG!' 'No humbug at all,' responded the 'COLONEL:' 'I meant the Fountain in Union-Square! It's a good deal _more_ than sixty feet high from here; and I saw it frozen solid not more than half-an-hour ago!' 'The laugh' was on the other side now: but the victims were good-natured fellows, and laughed as heartily as the rest. On another occasion, upon entering the shop, I found SNOW 'in the chair,' with a very lugubrious countenance 'on him,' as the Irish have it. 'That was a terrible thing,' said he, 'which happened on the Harlem Railroad this morning!' 'What was _that_?' asked several 'voices.' 'Why,' explained SNOW, 'the entire New-Haven train, of eight cars, ran over four men and a young lady.' 'They were instantly killed, of course?' 'No: miraculous as it may seem, not a single life was lost!' 'Why, how was _that_?' 'Well, they were _under the Harlem Bridge_, when the train passed over them, and not a car touched them! Cur'ous, wasn't it?' * * * THANKS to our old _Boyhood's Friend_, 'J. B. B.,' for his notelet, written in our absence at the desk of our town-sanctum. One 'plum' in it we are going to transfer to our own 'pudding:' 'I met an old school-mate in the cars last evening, who gave me an amusing anecdote of a character who lived in Pittsfield, (Mass.;) a man full of hearty humor--his name S---- P----, Jr. He was at Cleveland; and recognizing a nephew across the street, hailed him, as he was walking along in solemn mood: and as he took his hand he said: 'Well, TOM, I understand you have sold out entirely and gone into a new business: taken up the MILLERITE business, eh!' 'Well, Uncle LEM.,' was the reply, 'what would _you _do if you certainly expected the Last Day would come at twelve o'clock to-day?' 'Why, TOM,' said LEM., laughing, 'I'll _tell_ you what I would do: I would just work till five minutes before twelve, and then I'd wash up!'' Not a bad reply to a 'hard question!' * * * CAN any of our readers or correspondents inform us who is the author of the ensuing stanzas? They are certainly very beautiful: and their melody and fervor lead us to think that they may be from the pen of Rev. Mr. BONAR, from whom we have heretofore quoted two or three exquisite effusions. These lines bear this motto, from ISAIAH: '_I will lead thee in the paths they have not known_:'

'HOW few who, from their youthful day,
Look on to what their life may be;
Painting the visions of the way
In colors soft and bright and free;
How few who to such paths have brought
The hopes and dreams of early thought!
For GOD, through ways they have not known,
Will lead HIS own.

'The eager hearts, the soul of fire,
Who pant to toil for GOD and man;
And view with eyes of keen desire
The upland way of toil and pain;
Almost with scorn they think of rest,
Of holy calm, of tranquil breast,
But GOD, through ways they have not known,
Will lead them home.

'A lowlier task on them is laid--
With love to make the labor light;
And there their beauty they must shed
On quiet homes and lost to sight.
Changed are their visions high and fair,
Yet calm and still they labor there;
For GOD, through ways they have not known,
Will lead HIS own.

'The gentle heart that thinks with pain,
It scarce can lowliest tasks fulfil;
And if it dared its life to scan,
Would ask but pathway low and still;
Often such lowly heart is brought
To act with power beyond its thought:
For GOD, through ways they have not known,
Will lead HIS own.

'And they, the bright, who long to prove,
In joyous path, in cloudless lot,
How fresh from earth their grateful love
Can spring without a stain or spot--
Often such youthful heart is given
The path of grief, to walk in Heaven:
For GOD, through ways they have not known.
Will lead HIS own.

'What matter what the path shall be?
The end is clear and bright to view;
We know that we a strength shall see,
Whate'er the day may bring to do.
We see the end, the house of GOD,
But not the path to that abode;
For GOD, through ways they have not known,
Will lead HIS own.'

These fervent lines are 'poetry.' * * * Mr. CHARLES L. ELLIOTT, the eminent portrait-painter, was safely delivered of the subjoined remark, at a quarter to four of the clock, on the afternoon of February the twenty-second, while crossing the Hudson River. He commenced as follows: said he: The epitaphs which you quote in a late number of the KNICKERBOCKER, remind me of a _verbal_ one which my father once heard. An old fellow, a coarse, ill-grained Dutchman, died one day. He was a disagreeable man, and a bad neighbor: even the children feared and disliked him. One of his neighbors asked him just before his death, if he was ready to go, to which he answered: 'Yes.' 'Well,' was the rejoinder, 'if you are willing to die yourself, all your neighbors are willing you should.' At the grave, even, there was no one to say a good word for him, except one good-hearted old German, who remarked, as he turned away to go home: '_Well, he vas a goot shmoker!_'' This was the 'shmoker's only epitaph. * * * A FRIEND mentioned to us the other evening an amusing example of '_A Dutchman's Reliance on Providence_.' There had been a great drought in the county of Columbia: no rain had fallen for the space of two or three months; and all the upland fields were parched and dry: insomuch that great fears were entertained that there would be an utter failure of the usual crops. In this extremity, a meeting was called of all devout citizens of that particular 'rural district,' to offer up _Prayers for Rain_ to the 'LORD of the Harvest.' One honest old Dutchman who had a large farm, stated _his_ 'views' to the meeting in this way: 'Dere ish some vields along der hills dere, dat ish pooty dry: I wis you bray for some rain on _dem_: but you needn't bray for any mores vater on der moisht black ground under der hills dere; 'cause corn _moosht_ grow on _dem_ vields any how!' The 'argument' was effective! * * * AMONG the _Public Lecturers of the Season_ we may mention the name of our correspondent, and country neighbor, Mr. WILLIAM WIRT SIKES. His lectures are upon attractive themes, are well written, and he delivers them with entire effect. The subjects of four, which we have seen mentioned, are: '_The Beautiful_,' '_William Wirt_,' '_The Noble Life_,' '_Insanity_.' Mr. SIKES' address is, Nyack on the Hudson. * * * '_A Conundrum by Induction_,' must have cost a good deal of hard work to make:

WHY is a bee-hive like a bad potato?
Because a bee-hive is a bee-holder:
And a beholder is a spectator,
And a speck-tater is a bad potato!

'Apt,' for a metaphysician. * * * WE call attention to the advertisement elsewhere of '_The Cosmopolitan Art-Journal_. It has succeeded in securing the liberal favor of the public, having reached a circulation of nearly forty thousand copies. '_The Falstaff_,' which it furnishes as a premium picture, is an excellent work of art, and cannot fail of a very wide diffusion. * * * _The Editorial Correspondence of The Knickerbocker_,' extending through a period of over twenty years, will be commenced in our next. Having to gain nearly a month's time in the advance preparation of the present number, we have not found the requisite leisure to do justice to the opening paper.

Fifty-Seventh Volume of the Knickerbocker.

KNICKERBOCKER PREMIUMS.

WE offer, as will be seen by our Prospectus, to each subscriber to the KNICKERBOCKER for 1861, as a premium, the choice of the two very fine Steel-plate Engravings, 'ROBERT BURNS IN HIS COTTAGE COMPOSING THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT,' and the 'MERRY-MAKING IN THE OLDEN TIME.' The first of these pictures--BURNS--has been engraved by the distinguished American artist, JOHN C. MCRAE, after the celebrated painting by Sir WILLIAM ALLAN: and represents BURNS in his humble home, clad in the homely garb in which he was wont to tread the fields, his dog at his feet and his pen in his hand, musing seriously over those immortal utterances that found vent in the exquisite lyric above named. The portrait is perfect, and the picture executed in the highest style of art. Its size is sixteen by twenty-one inches; and its publication price is two dollars.

The other engraving we offer as a premium, the 'MERRY-MAKING,' is a perfect copy of FRITH'S celebrated picture, and was engraved at an expense of two thousand dollars. It measures twenty-five by nineteen and a half inches in size, contains thirty-nine figures, and is, beyond comparison, the finest work of the kind ever offered as a premium in this country. The following description of it is furnished us by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, Esq.:

'ALMOST in the centre of the picture and a little in the
back-ground, is a country-dance on the green, with a
hard-featured fiddler perched on a high seat, and another
musician in a tie-wig standing by him, playing with all their
might. On the right, two bouncing girls are gaily pulling toward
the dance a gray-haired man, who seems vainly to remonstrate
that his 'dancing days are over,' while a waggish little chit
pushes him forward from behind, greatly to the amusement of his
spouse, who is still sitting at the tea-table, from which he has
been dragged. On the left, under a magnificent spreading oak,
sit the 'Squire and his wife, whom a countryman with his hat
off is respectfully inviting to take part in the dance. To the
left of the 'Squire is a young couple on the grass, to whom a
gipsy, with an infant on her shoulder, is telling their fortune.
Over the shoulders of this couple is seen a group engaged in
quoit-playing, and back of the whole is a landscape of gentle
slopes and copses.'

No similar opportunity will be presented the public for obtaining these very fine engravings.

Publisher's Notice.

THE Publisher invites contributions on subjects of immediate National interest, Historical, Biographical, Descriptive, Scientific, etc. Such articles, if written in a lively and attractive manner, and embodying _new and useful information of a practical character_, will always receive early and respectful attention; and if used, will be suitably paid for.

Manuscripts, excepting short poems, if not accepted, will be returned if accompanied by a sufficient number of stamps to pay the postage.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Minor typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed.

Mismatched quotes are not fixed if it's not sufficiently clear where the missing quote should be placed.

The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.