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 THE 
 
 COMIC 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 , OP THE 
 
 HUMAN RACE: 
 
 DESIOMED hSD ILLUSTBAIES BT 
 
 HENRY L. STEPHENS. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 S. ROBINSON, No. 9 SANSOM STREEOT. 
 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by 
 
 S. ROBINSON, 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Eastern 
 
 District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Kma & BjlOld, Peintebs, No. 9 SAimou Si. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 
 PREPACE, 
 
 THE JAIL BIRD, 
 
 THE LEGAL BIRD, 
 
 THE GIRAFFE, 
 
 THE STAR FISH, 
 
 THE MILLINER BIRD, 
 
 THE LARK, 
 
 THE KING BIRD, 
 
 THE HUMBUG, 
 
 THE WIDOW BIRD, 
 
 THE BUTCHER BIRD, 
 
 THE GALLOWS BIRD, 
 
 THE TAYLOR BIRD, 
 
 THE LITTLE DEAR, 
 
 THE JOLLY OLD COCK, , 
 
 THE SAME OLD COON, 
 
 THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD, 
 
 THE SIACKAREL, 
 
 BY THE EDITOR, 
 
 9 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 13 
 
 " CLIENTS, 
 
 17 
 
 " THE EDITOR, 
 
 21 
 
 " A CONTRIBUTOR, 
 
 25 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 35 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 39 
 
 " THE EDITOR, 
 
 43 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 49 
 
 " C. W. WEBBER, 
 
 55 
 
 " THE EDITOR, 
 
 59 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 67 
 
 " CORNELIUS MATTHEWS, 
 
 73 
 
 " THE EDITOR, 
 
 77 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 81 
 
 " RICHARD VAUX, 
 
 87 
 
 " C. F. ERICHSON, 
 
 95 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 
 
 105 
 
Vlll 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ONE OF THE RATS, 
 
 THE CUTTLE PISH, 
 
 THE GOLD FISH, 
 
 THE SONNY AND THE SUCKER, 
 
 THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK, 
 
 THE WHARF RAT, 
 
 THE SEA BASS, 
 
 THE SHARK AND THE GUDQEON, 
 
 THE STOOL PIGEON, 
 
 THE LITERARY BIRD, 
 
 THE RICE CROW, ^ , 
 
 THE BIRD OF PARADISE, 
 
 THE MASONIC TERRAPIN, 
 
 THE SHAD, 
 
 DRIESBACH's LION, AND THE BLACK TIGER, 
 
 THE VAMPYRE, 
 
 THE CATAMARAN AND THE OWL, 
 
 THE WOOBaPECKER, 
 
 THE NIGHT HAWK, 
 
 THE SUN BIRD, 
 
 THE CATORN WARBLER, 
 
 THE ALMS-HOUSE BIRD, 
 
 BY W. A. STEPHENS, 109 
 
 " RICHARD VAUX, 115 
 
 " THE EDITOR, 119 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 123 
 
 " ISAAC W. MOORE, 127 
 
 " THE EDITOR, 133 
 
 " THOS, m'keon, 137 
 
 " C. F. ERICHSON, 141 
 
 " RICHARD VAUX, 149 
 
 " A CONTRIBUTOR, 157 
 
 " THOS. m'k:eon, . ^ I61 
 
 " GEO. W. DEWEY, 165 
 
 " RICHARD VAUX, 169 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 175 
 
 " THOS. m'keon, 179 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, •185 
 
 " C. F. ERICHSON, 189 
 
 " ALI BABA THE WOODCUTl-ER, 195 
 
 " W. A. STEPHENS, 199 
 
 " RICHARD VAUX, 205 
 
 " THOS. m'keon, 207 
 
 " RICHARD VAUX, 211 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It is common-place to talk of this being the age of won- 
 ders ; we shall not therefore insist upon it in this our Preface; 
 but will only hint our entire conformity to such jijrevalent idea, 
 and inform the public at once that we are about to give some 
 illustrations of it. 
 
 In various aspects of their ever-changing, phantasmago- 
 rical, kaleideiscopical or transmigratorial characters, we have 
 some fancies, which we shall show in . such a strong light as 
 no dissolving view or master-piece of fireworks ever begun to 
 approach. Transmigration is held to be very marvellous, even 
 abstractly as a doctrine only ; and we associate with it ideas 
 of idolatrous ram- worshiping Hindoos, and other far-off out- 
 siders, but we have discovered it to commonly happen close 
 at home. We shall show, amongst many other important 
 things, some of the shapes into which men try, and rather 
 successfully too, to transform themselves. 
 
 Such neglected branches of Philosophy and Natural History 
 open to our investigation that we have ample choice of the 
 
10 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 desirable qualities of novelty and richness of subject, but all 
 shall be accommodated, and receive impartial treatment at the 
 hands of both designer and editor. The little Widow bird, 
 none the worse of it, — the foolish Gudgeon, easily hooked, — . 
 the jolly old Cock, redolent of good living and fatness, — the 
 big Shark, in good preservation and a blue coat, — the Sonny 
 fish, and the unchangeable Sucker — we have got them all. 
 We are great at Fishes. 
 
 Birds too — also quadrupeds, we consider ourselves now 
 quite familiar with, the latter rather particularly so ; though 
 we by no means wish to insinuate that we have discovered in 
 men anything like a general tendency to make beasts of them- 
 selves, and beg leave now once for all to distinctly inculcate, 
 that such is not general but special, as we shall proceed to 
 show in the course ^f our book. 
 
 We did intend to be entirely and exclusively original, and 
 so do intend yet ; but having continued to push our historical 
 and Archaeological examinations to such extent as we deemed 
 necessary, and in fact indispensable for the accuracy of this 
 our great work, we have found ourselves anticipated by a few 
 years, at a place called Mneveh, which appears to be a city 
 built under ground, as they make a great fuss about digging 
 it out. We cannot see though, that it is much of a place, 
 probably a quarry or some sort of a mine, the mouth of which 
 has got stopped up. At any rate, it appears that men, 
 changed into Lions, and Eagles, and Bulls, have been found 
 there, so that we are forced to the conclusion, that the curious 
 
PREFACE. 11 
 
 transformations which we have observed, and are now about 
 to illustrate, have taken place also elsewhere, and we are glad 
 of this conclusive confirmation. The former two descriptions 
 of animals we have not met with, for certain, though we have 
 seen various attempts at one of them. It is called Lionizing, 
 but is generally extraordinarily unsuccessful. We have no 
 Eagles, — plenty of soaring individuals, but they generally 
 can't do it ; and as for their piercing eyes, sharp-sightedness, 
 and penetration, and all that sort of thing, there's nothing in 
 them of any account. We ought not to say, however, in such 
 an unqualified manner, that there are no eagles here ; there are 
 some, but they are very different from anything in our line. 
 Once we had one of them in our possession, — it w^as a queer 
 little circular affair, and the way it flew o^ was a caution : 
 never returned, and we only remember it *as a droll incident in 
 our life. This happened a long time ago ; and we had almost 
 begun to think there were no such things now-a-days, but 
 ui^on consulting our artist, he also remembers one occasion 
 upon which he actually saw exactly this same kind of an 
 Eagle. We shall have to drop its history, though, not being 
 sufficiently familiar with it, adding, that we hope our patrons 
 are. 
 
 Of the last-named animal found at Nineveh, we have seen 
 plenty of specimens, and beg to assure our readers, that, 
 about him, we shall have something choice to say. 
 
 We are particular in thus alluding to the remarkal)le dis- 
 coveries turned out at the city of Nineveh, — by the way, it is 
 
•^2 PREFACE. 
 
 a mistake to call it a city — we insist that it and Hercula- 
 neum too, are only boroughs, — because we would, above all 
 things, dislike to be considered plagiarists. Should, however, 
 any of the distinguished artists of that city, then, ever come 
 this way, we shall be glad to see them, — Nebuchadnezzar es- 
 pecially, he being the only one of the gentlemen whom we 
 have the honor to know by name. We will treat him or them, 
 certainly, to the best we have, — but no floating gardens or any 
 thing of that sort — much as we can do to keep ourselves 
 afloat. 
 
 TuE Editor. 
 
 
JAIlllj BllEB 
 
 ■•fL./!osrn//ut/. Fh il'. 
 
THE JAIL BIRD 
 
 (VAGABUNDUS LIMBO-COLUS.) 
 
 AViTH the most profound respect for Audubon, Prince of Ornitholo- 
 gists, we are yet obliged, from a keen sense of duty, to haul him 
 over the coals for his omission from his otherwise faultless work upon 
 the Birds of America, of the well-known bird so frequently found in 
 the purlieus of the Court of Quarter Sessions; a capital likeness of 
 one of the most beautiful of the species is here presented from the 
 pencil of our artist. 
 
 To those whose daily avocations call them to that " sweet seques- 
 tered spot," the distinctive features of the Jail Bird will be familiar; 
 of unknown parentage, belonging to no particular clime, reckless 
 alike of the bitter frosts of winter, or the intense heat of summer, 
 this bird loves to nestle in its simplicity within the very portals of 
 the Temple. 
 
 Cherished as it is by all with whom its scaly plumage comes in 
 contact; petted and admired; often taken by hand to be confine(J in a 
 cage, under the vain hope that it may learn to change its tune feme 
 would suppose, that once free from the iron bars against which for a 
 brief period it flaps its wings, it would seek some more genial spot, 
 where the ingratitude of man would not be able to reach and bind 
 
14 TIIEJAILBIRD- 5^ 
 
 in fetters, galling to the soul, the free spirit of a creature once pure 
 and holy as are such touched with the Godhead's finger. 
 
 Distantly related to the Magpie and the Raven, the Jail Bird, with 
 the modesty peculiar to itself, seeks, but in its quiet way, to appropriate 
 * the trifling things that may lie in its path; but unlike those birds, it 
 scorns to pilfer for the mere enjoyment of the theft, but with a laud- 
 able desire to further the free-trade theory of an exchange of com- 
 modities, — what it takes from one quarter it speedily transfers to 
 another, deriving some little benefit from the exchange. On such 
 occasions it is usually found near a fence, and sometimes it has been 
 heard audibly to chirp, (at least so our unch, who is a great bird fan- 
 cier, informs us), • ^ 
 
 "That's the ticket." 
 
 Unlike the hawk, it does not "stoop from its quarry on high." If 
 it were so, in truth, less frequent would bd its appearances in that 
 Arcadian retreat at Sixth and Chestnut streets; but the simple fool, 
 guiltless of such ambitious flights, circles round and round the charmed 
 spot until it falls into the mouth of the destroyer. 
 
 The hawk, nobler and more elevated in its pursuits, in the judgment 
 of the keepers of the Aviary before mentioned, disdains the trivial 
 pursuits of the Jail Bird. 
 
 Assuming at times the shape of a Bank Director, Trustee, Guardian, 
 &c., it either "wrings from the hard hands of peasants their vile 
 trash," or with desperate energy sweeps away in one fell swoop the 
 life-long, blood-bought earnings of the widow and the orphan. For 
 such the fine drawn net of justice is put in requisition: but the 
 texture thereof is frequently found too weak to keep the bird secure, 
 thus rarely meshed. 
 
 The Jail Bird, when young and friendless, destitute of all resources 
 but such as the wise beneficence of the law, and the daily temptations 
 thrown in the path of poverty offer to it, when first caught, is kindly 
 offered a House of Refuge. In such cases, after a suitable length of 
 
TIIEJAILBIRD. 15 
 
 time, and the exercise of Christian care, it emerges with a disposition 
 to fulfil an honorable position among the working songsters, a dis- 
 position which is sometimes checked, and often conquered, by the 
 coldness with which such endeavors are met from those whose rigid 
 virtue calls upon them to press back the warm and trusting heart of 
 the reclaimed offender, seeking for aid and counsel, and pharisee-like 
 exclaim, " Stand aside, I am holier than thou !" 
 
 Oh, in these days of Christian charity and benevolence, it might be 
 worth a thought among the wise ones whose brains are addled with 
 cent.-per-cent. speculations, Tariffs, and improved legislation, to spare 
 a few moments to the consideration of the weak and erring. 
 
 Far, far o'er the waters speeds the good ship carrying the glad 
 tidings to the heathen. Freely is the gold poured out from the high 
 seats in the Synagogue to clothe the little savages in the Pacific 
 islands in flannel jackets — while, within sound of the hearths of the 
 givers, and beneath their feet, from the abodes of poverty, wretched- 
 ness and despair, the wailing cry of a weary soul ascends above, un- 
 heeded and uncared for. . r 
 
 True it is, that recently a few good and brave hearts have set them- 
 selves unto the work of regeneration, in the belief that much of 
 ignorance and misery at our very doors can be alleviated without 
 wandering thousands of miles to seek for it in a foreign land. To 
 them we look forward, in confidence and hope, that the day is not far 
 distant, when, by the aid of judicious care, and advice rightfully ad- 
 ministered ; by the daily seeking in the haunts of poverty and disease, 
 and rescuing the young and ignorant from the contaminating influence 
 of vice; we may yet exclaim, not " that there's a good time a coming," 
 but that a good time has come. Then shall we learn that plenty of 
 free baths and public schools, to cleanse the poor from their physical 
 and moral degradation, will do more towards the extinguishment of 
 crime, than the Court of Quarter Sessions, or Smithsonian Institutes. 
 
 W. A. S. ' 
 
^ 
 
 •f 
 
 '^^ 
 
 b. *■' 
 
./'."/ L.Hrst'rffK^f riiii ■ 
 
THE LEGAL Bin D. 
 
 (JTJRISPERITUS VOX POPULI.) 
 
 This bird is of very ancient origin. — There is an old book, that 
 seems much liked in courts, as most folks Jtiss it there, which refers 
 to these birds, under the name of Lawyers. We do not know if any 
 were with "Noah," but we rather think there was, as we believe 
 Noah took "private counsel," either in the Ark, or before "Ae made 
 "* an assignTnent," of his "freight." — The Ark was a total loss, as it was 
 never " worthy " of the "sea" again, so there was a general "average." 
 But this dont matter much. — One thing is certain, that the " Old 
 Testam^f's or rather, the oldest testaments, we know of, were 
 '^ drawn up" by some of this species of birds. If, therefore, this 
 bird was in ^'full feather" before the Old Testament, it is at least 
 reasonable to suppose it was a " Jew"Hs^. 
 
 This Bird belongs to a large family. Of the species, many have 
 feathers, some have none. They all have bills either very long or 
 very short ; the longest are " hills in Equity,'' because they are required 
 to penetrate through the * Law' to discover ' wherein it is deficient.' 
 These bills, owing to their great length, are sometimes ^'^ filed/' but 
 if that operation was ever known to reduce tlie size, we leave to some 
 ^^ FiLErOsopJier" to answer. This particular bird, here represented, has 
 a peculiaristic — ^it never ^^ flies" it always W-aux. How it got on 
 that limb, can only be accounted for by the fact, that it is a " limb of 
 the Law." This point having been thus made "in LiM-wie," it seems 
 to require notice. The Legal Bird inhabits " Courts" though it does 
 not build its nest there. It only feeds out of the Courts. 
 
18 THE LEGAL BIRD. 
 
 One of these Courts is called — " (lie OrpJimis Gmirt^' why we do not 
 exactly understand, unless it arises from the fact that no one ever 
 heard of its having a Fatlier and Mother — orphans have no Father or 
 Mother. Another is called " tlw Common Pleas" — derived from the 
 principle, that it is ^ common^ for all people to say ^'please' when they 
 ask a favor — and because he is lucky who has a "friend at Court." 
 The rule in this Court is, that every day the Crier proclaims " ! yes" 
 three times, in answer to the ^please' which have become so 'common.' 
 Another Court is styled the " Oyer aiid Terminer" — ^which in old times 
 was translated to * Hear and Determine ;' but the great progress of the 
 age has improved this, for now they ' Determine,' and it don't matter 
 much, whether they * hear' or not — a Sin of omission which is daily 
 felt by the Court, from the fact, as we suspect, that its Crier pro- 
 claims " God save the Honorable Court" — a pious "precejp^," indicating 
 that it requires some such help. 
 
 This Bird " fee-cZs" out of these Courts. Its appetite is singular. It 
 is " grainrivorous" when it picks up "j)re-SEED ents" out of old books, 
 and like food off the " Lands" of " Z^e-SEED ewfe." It is * carnivorous' 
 when it gets the ' pound of flesh,' which it sometimes does in seeking 
 after the ' pence' — on the principle, that if you " take care of the 
 pounds, the pence will take of themselves" — a truism, as both pounds 
 and pence ' take care' never to get in the way of this bird if they can 
 help it. When two of these birds are on ' opposite sides,' they then 
 ' meat,' because there is a ' stalce in the issue, and as a natural conse- 
 quence they " stich it into tJie ribs" of somebody : hence this bird is 
 called * carnivorous.' It may be presumed that this bird has great 
 powers of 'cZi^e6'^'-ion. In the earlier years of its life it devours * CoM 
 and ' BlaclxrStorwl which latter we presume is the ' black-letter' name 
 for ' anthracite' or ' Stone Coal.' The quantity is not very large, how- 
 ever, as both are measured upon " Little-io^." In order to lubricate its 
 palate for these solids, it washes down with " Y(-iners Abridgement " 
 we do not exactly understand in what a winers abrldgmeid consists, 
 whether it relates to the frequency or quantity of the " Nips." One 
 
THELEGALBIRD. 19 
 
 thing is certain, it does not " drain, drain the wine-cup," for we hear 
 much said about * Remainders,' — which, we presume, is but another 
 term for * lieel-tajps.' 
 
 This bird is often exhibited in ^ cases:' birds when stuffed are ^ex- 
 hibited in cases' as a general rule — but the kind of cases differ. 
 
 At one time this bird shows itself in a ^ Patent Case ;' as, when the 
 question arises which is the ' patent, and which is the ' case.' Then 
 in a * Summon's Case,' in which case it is a * callrhird' Next, in a 
 " Will Case," when it shows its propriety by never exhibiting a ' will 
 of its own.' Frequently it is in an " Ejectment Case," when it is to 
 be decided whether it ' goes out ' or * stays-in.' We have seen this bird 
 in an " Apprentice Case," but could never exactly comprehend whether 
 the ^ case' made the ' apprentice' or the ^ apprentice made the ' case :' 
 we leave the decision of this case until we hear (what) " ^ Judge- 
 meant." 
 
 This bird sometimes gets " its hloodrup," and then it is exhibited in a 
 " Homicide Case :" this is a wonderful exhibition. This case often 
 " hangs"-up, and then it is unquestionably " A" ' case.' It is a rich 
 case when it is a case of " gilt" — but when it is " NOT gilty," it is a 
 poor case, for then it is a " mis de MEAN er" case. It is very remark- 
 able that when the Jury can't agree as to the case, they say the 
 "e/itry's hung ;' but when the Jury does agree, somebody else is " hung 
 — but what would turn up if they * all liang-togetlier we don't know, 
 rather guess it would be a ^ a feet! 
 
 The legal bird in these * cases' is very loquacious ; it " speaks" often, 
 and is not unfrequently known to put in its " rejoinder" and " sur- 
 rejoinder ;" and even when done sur-rejoindering, it sometimes adds 
 a "pastea" — this last word we don't exactly understand, not being 
 ^posfAid,' but suppose it is the ' lavylatin for ' Sticking a pin there,' 
 which, in vulgar parlance, is interpreted — ^ Mark that !' 
 
 Superadded to its loquaciousness, it is fond of ' Gossip'^t is ever 
 quoting some " Reports" of Mr. ^ Binney,' or ' Eawle,' or ' Dallas,' or 
 ' Sergeant,' or ' Watts,' or ' Barr' — we have known it to speak of as many 
 
20 THELEGALBIRD. 
 
 as " seventeeri^ ^ reports of some of these 'old-ccwey's.' We do not know 
 whether they were ever traced to any reliable source, but we have 
 heard that they proceeded as far in the investigation as a " court of last 
 resort^' which means, we opine, that they are at Hast resorV for finding 
 whether the reports are true or not. 
 
 From these remarks it would be naturally inquired, what was the 
 example of this bird on society? We answer this " interrogatxyry" in 
 ^one word' — he can " operi' and ^^sumrup' on Hhis point,' by remarking, 
 that its example is ' decided' -\y ^^in-sxj'RY-ous' — why or wherefore is 
 of no consequence. Our ^ Verdicf is like all others, they ^find' in a 
 Verdict — and we have "found " our " answer." In the further de- 
 velopment of the Natural History of this bird, we must speak of its 
 "motions^' which are always by "ruhr It "moves'' "to take off'' a 
 " NGN suit" — that is, when its " Suit" of Clothes dont 'fit^ it moves to 
 take them off: sometimes they come off, sometimes they do not, 
 then it ^ Tmmes' for a " New Trial." But we don't know whether the 
 
 * new trial' refers to the effort to get off the clothes, or to make the 
 Suit fit. This bird 'plumes' itself chiefly in these ^motions,' and so- 
 we suspect it does "matter the toss of a feather." 
 
 The voice of the legal bird is worthy of ^ ^wte :' it sings almost any 
 
 * tune' It takes its " Q" after 0. P., when these letters stand for 
 open purse. It omits the vowels I. 0. U., thus united, in its ' notes.' 
 Its voice is a " BAR-i-tone," often "plaintiff" and always "fee'-lituj. 
 
 We have given a synopsis of the natural history of the " Attor- 
 ney, or Legal Bird." Our style is neither too "hlghfknjon' nor too 
 " wordy" great defects in the style of most authors. In this respect, 
 we have * winged our course' clear of the '^ shots :' and those who wish * to 
 make sportrmen of themselves by " RaiV'-ing at us, thus going 
 beyond their depth and getting 'Duck-Qdi.' 
 
 Our style is becoming the subject on which we write — the learned 
 " VJJi!i"-dit of the Law — for all " Philadelphia Lawyers" are "pun"- 
 sters, which means ' pun- dits.' We have at least " tried" to make our 
 
 * notice' as "pun" -gent as posbible to ^ Suit' all " Clients" 
 
(GrlRAJFIFEc 
 
THE GIRAFFE 
 
 (CAMELEOrARDALlS JAKEYl.) 
 
 He's one of 'em, he is — ^nothin' shorter ; bom in Spring Garden and 
 bound to be a Butcher. 
 
 This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is what he has grown to, — a perfect 
 Giraffe. This animal is frequently met with in all our cities, but 
 most especially in the highly-cultivated and rich pastures peculiar to 
 the great centres of American civilization, New York and Philadel- 
 phia. In the latter, we infer fix)m our personal investigations that he 
 attains his greatest perfection, having roamed without restrictions 
 inconvenient to him, until latterly. We say latterly, for we have not 
 seen him of late, and his time, we much fear, has come suddenly — 
 too suddenly perhaps, and he may be only frightened, and playing 
 'possum ; but it really appears at present that the Giraffe is dead ; — 
 poor Giraffe ! 
 
 Now we think of it — how came we never to think of it before ? — 
 our artist and we were lucky in securing the portrait of such a 
 splendid specimen before the breed ran out, or became extinct, or 
 whatever else is the matter. We pronounce him a prime lot, from 
 the scientific set of that tile of his ; or, from the perfect drill of that 
 soai>lock, to the highly ornamental knot in his tail, we say he's a 
 prime 'un, lue is. 
 
22 THEGIRAFFE. 
 
 The Giraffe has a peculiarly long neck, as may be observed in our 
 plate. The reason for this is, as we have ascertained, that in his 
 native country he subsists upon the branches and twigs of trees, and 
 must have a long neck to reach them, because he couldn't do so 
 without. 
 
 These twigs and branches he takes hold of with a long tongue, or 
 in other words, by a process which may be termed licking in, — which 
 we have no doubt has been corrupted into whipping-in, or kicking-in ; 
 terms indispensable to the vocabulary of politicians, and of great 
 importance to be studied and well understood, especially about 
 election times : hence we claim the credit of pointing out their true 
 meaning and derivation. 
 
 Our home-bred, and partly tamed Giraffe has exactly the same 
 disposition; but, as there are no twigs, nor bushes, nor many trees here, 
 he does the best he can without, or more generally takes to a substitute, 
 and licks energetically at the stump of a segar, or if that wont do, 
 he tries to lick something or somebody else. Or, to show how fully 
 he can accommodate himself to circumstances, and the wide room 
 there is for him to thrive, we will mention another alternative — he 
 takes to lick-er, which seems to answer as well, as he flourishes upon 
 it almost exclusively in the localities above mentioned. 
 
 And this brings us to another department of our business, or rather 
 of our intentions — for we intend that the public shall have the full 
 benefit of our laborious investigations, and consequent knowledge — 
 this brings us to point out the method of managing him when he gets 
 obstropolis — or when a herd of them get so — all they want is licking 
 — that's all — do that to them, and they will all go away peaceably. 
 
 We do not wish to be understood as sa3dng, though, that there are 
 no trees here, — there are some in the Washington Square ; but all the 
 lower branches are carefully sawed off every Spring, and the reason 
 must be, that the Giraffes lick them too strongly. We don't know 
 any other ; — perhaps Patrick does, under whose advice it is done. 
 
 The Giraffe is a very harmless animal when very young — we may 
 
THE GIRAFFE. ^^ 
 
 % 
 
 as well say we never saw a very old one — we suspect further trans- 
 formation takes place, and he comes out something else — when 
 young, however, he is very harmless. lie is fond of a noise though, 
 and runs in the street, giving out his j^eculiar note, which is an 
 enormous hlow — he is rather great at hlowing ; also likes the sound of 
 bells equal to a Russian bear, at the ringing of which he starts up 
 and makes off at the biggest kind of a trot — ^you would think so if 
 you saw him. He gets in love, too ; for there are female Giraffes and 
 — ^but an idea strikes us. We have in our collection some poetry 
 about that, and as it is vastly superior to anything upon this delicate 
 subject which we can hope to perform, we will transcribe it. 
 
 We do not know the author, we wish we did, for he's a genius. Jig is. 
 After mature reflection, we have concluded to rank him somewhere 
 between Childe Harold and Shakspeare, no where else — so here 
 it is : 
 
 LOVE IN THE BOWERY. 
 
 BY A b'hOY. 
 
 " The couroe of true love didn't never run smooth." — SiiAKfi'KAnE : Bowery eJiliim. 
 
 I soon her on the side walk, 
 * When I run with number : 
 
 Mj eyes spontaneous sought out horn, 
 
 And hern was fixed on mine. 
 She waved her pocket haudkircher 
 
 As we went rushin' by, 
 No boss that ever killed in York 
 
 Was happier nor I. 
 I felt that I had done it : 
 
 And what had won her smile ? 
 'Twas them embroidered traces, 
 
 And that immortal tile. 
 
 I sought her out at Wauxhall, 
 Afore that place was Ant ; 
 Oh, that happy, happy e\enin' 
 I recollex it yet ! 
 
24 
 
 ■■:■%■•■ ■' 
 
 THE GIRAFFE. 
 
 I gin her cords of pea-nuts, 
 
 And a apple, and a wet; 
 Oh, that happy, happy evenia' 
 
 I never can forget ! 
 
 I took her to the Bowery, 
 
 She sat long side of me j 
 They acted out a piece they called, 
 
 <' The Wizard of the Sea." 
 And when the sea fight was fotched on,. 
 
 My love she cried " Hay ! hay ! " 
 And like so many minutes there 
 
 Five hours passed away. 
 
 Before the bridle halter 
 
 I thought to call her mine, 
 The day was fixed, when she to nie 
 
 Her hand and heart should jine. 
 But, blow me! — if she didn't slip 
 
 Her halter on that day, 
 A pedlar from Conneckticut, 
 
 He sloped with her av.'ay. 
 
 Well, let it pass, there's other gals 
 
 As beautiful as she. 
 And many a butcher's lovely child 
 
 Has cast sheep's eyes at me. 
 I wears no crape upon my hat, 
 
 'Cause I'm a packin' sent, 
 I only takes an extra horn, 
 
 Observing, "Let her went!" 
 
 •ft 
 
 ^ 
 
 vC. 
 
v< 
 
 STAIR FISMc 
 
 ^ fv^iy r /. A' 
 
 .' ft ofL. txosenfhai. Ph it" 
 
THE ST AH FISH. 
 
 (aster americanus.) 
 
 He was a shrewd pliilosopher, who first discovered the profound 
 truth that all the world is more or less mad — that genius is but a 
 superior lunacy — and the height of human wisdom, but the refinement 
 of folly. It is only by adopting his hypothesis that the vagaries of 
 taste can be accounted for, or the eccentricities of fashion be ex- 
 plained. How fortunate that this lunar tendency generally exhibits 
 itself in mild manias, or perversities of taste remarkable more for their 
 ludicrousness than their danger. If the enthusiasm which is lavished 
 upon trivial subjects were directed to more important affairs, the 
 world might have reason to regret the " fantastic tricks" which its 
 bizarre zeal might penetrate. A j%w seul cost John the Baptist his 
 head, and the " celebrated danseuse' of that day, by diverting Herod's 
 passion for frivolity — to a serious purpose, could doubtless have 
 danced destruction throughout Judea. 
 
 The gentle lunacy that at the commencement of the last century 
 expanded itself upon the cultivation of tulips, might have resulted 
 disastrously to mankind, if a more dangerous subject had engaged 
 its attention. The fashionable rage which — at a later date in Europe 
 sacrificed Art to old china, might have created a revolution in the 
 
25 THESTARFISH. 
 
 political world if its energies had taken a political direction ; and who 
 can tell what we should have had to deplore if the restless impulse 
 which a few years back fermented in this nation, had not happily 
 exploded in innocuous Silk-worm and Fanny ^Wsler furores ? 
 
 What but the natural malady of madness inherent in human 
 nature, could have caused such eccentricities of enthusiasm — such 
 fanaticisms of maladmiration ? It must have its periodical vents of 
 course, or mischief would ensue, and lucky is it for the world that 
 this cacoethes jpo^uU manifests itself in general in ebullitions of ludi- 
 crous taste and nothing worse. In our day, its Fickle Sovereignty has 
 seen fit to exalt the Histrionic into the noblest of all Arts or Profes- 
 sions — to regard an aptitude for mimicry as a development of the 
 mens divinior — to reward its proficients on a scale of mad extravar 
 gance, and raise them into a ridiculous importance, which has no 
 parellel on earth, except perhaps in the devout generosity of the 
 natives of Guinea, who deify Parisian toys, and squander gold dust in 
 the purchase, and in honor of these costly gods. 
 
 Favoritism is a besetting weakness of all Soverigns — ^it matters 
 little whether the sovereignty is invested in, or established aver, a 
 people. His majesty The Million will indulge in the same monarchic 
 follies as his majesty of The MilHon; and as King Louis, or Charles, 
 of old time, exalted their favorite actors (costumed in motley with 
 cap and bells,) to an equality with their courtiers and nobility; 
 Jolerated their foibles, allowed unbounded license to their actions, and 
 right royally enriched them ; so does his majesty King Populus of 
 our day make a Pet of a Player — bow down in adoration before the 
 Genius of Agility, developed in the legs of a danseuse — and elevate 
 the Power of Lungs in a prima tenxyre, or prima donna, superior to all 
 other gifts and acquirements. What is the summum honum in this 
 ninteenth century, judging by popular appreciation, and the estima- 
 tion in which its professors are held ? Theatrical acquirements ! or, 
 in the language of that quaint philosopher Hood, "A well-tuned 
 larynx — a well-turned figure, or light fantastic toes, none the less ex- 
 
THESTARFISH. 27 
 
 cellent for being associated with light fantastic behaviour. A foreign 
 bird," he continues, " will obtain as much for a night's warbling as a 
 native bird can realize in a whole year ; an actor will be paid a sum 
 per night equal to the annual stipend of many a curate, and the in- 
 come of an opera-dancer will exceed the revenue of a dignitary of the # 
 Church." 
 
 Perhaps this sudden caprice of fashion is the result of hasty repen- 
 tance for the persecution of the members of this really worthy pro- 
 fession, in those times when they were declared by law to be " rogues 
 and vagabonds." If so, it is carrying matters to the other extreme, 
 by endeavoring to elevate an unoffending victim from the depths of 
 unjust reproach, to the height of undeserved absurdity. As for 
 society itself, it 'is perhaps but just that it should atone for a senseless 
 crime by a ridiculous expiation. The fatuity of folly is a choice 
 weapon of Nemesis. 
 
 Not that any blame attaches to the Actor for the false position into 
 which he is for the present thrust. Far from it ; for though constitution- 
 ally among the most sanguine of men, and the most liberal-minded as 
 to his own deserts, we question if the leading " Stars" of a hundred years 
 ago, in the wildest moments of imagination, could ever dream that a 
 second or third-rate "great tragedian" should gain, by mere successful 
 imitation of by-gone excellence, or mere variations of the stage-gamut 
 of accentuation, or emphasis, or new tricks of gesticulation, a greater 
 sum yearly than the salary of the President ; should be hailed as a 
 national prodigy, and acquire more immediate renown than a Poet, 
 Author or Philosopher. He is no more to blame- for such a freak of 
 fashion, than were the bulb-roots for the fictitious value set upon them 
 in the tulip mania. 
 
 The character of the Actor is sui generis. It is marked by no 
 distinctive trait — he is 
 
 " Not one, but all mantind's epitome." 
 His education is peculiar. (We speak now of the Actor ]par excel- 
 
28 THESTARFISH. ^ 
 
 lence, he who was bom to the calling, and commencing his career as 
 " call-boy," succeeds, after many years of labor, anxiety, poverty and 
 dissipation, in attaining " a position.") A strange medley of green- 
 room witticisms and play-book morality. Now personating a fault- 
 less hero, and again a successful villain ; now a high-minded gentle- 
 man, and again a dashing and selfish rouS, with his whole heart and 
 faculties absorbed in the alternate characters ; is it surprising that the 
 individuality of the man is lost, and he becomes a strange anomaly of 
 the virtues and vices, to the portrayal of which his life and energies 
 are devoted ? Whatever may be the effect of this education upon 
 the better nature of the man, it at least endows him with a versatility 
 of conduct unapproachable by any other. At one moment he treats 
 his subordinates with all the despotism of a haughty yet very petty 
 tyrant ; at the next, paints his face, elaborates the hue of his nose, and 
 bedaubs his eyebrows before humbly bowing for that applause in 
 which his soul delights, but which he affects to despise. 
 
 It would be useless in these days to deny that none but the 
 highest order of genius can achieve popularity upon the stage ! 
 Equally vain to question the propriety of regarding mimetic excel- 
 lence as a development of High Art ! The evidence of a thousand 
 newspaper critics would overwhelm the man daring enough to 
 advance so startling a dissent from the infallible vac papuli. Genius 
 never so abounded in the world as at present — never assumed such 
 a variety of shapes. If in its characteristics and productions it 
 differs a little from what we have been taught to venerate in its 
 name — why we too differ from our forefathers, and let us hope that 
 Genius has kept pace with the advancing spirit of the age. If the 
 divine afflxitus is less powerful, it is more disseminated, and as we 
 advance, if it become less sacred, will it not be more democratic? 
 And surely no sane man will question the superiority of the latter 
 attribute. True, in the course of time, it may become so common, 
 as to be contemptible from sheer familiarity. Still, there is an 
 irresistible charm in its condescension — our warmest admiration is 
 
^i 
 
 THESTARFISH. 29 
 
 excited when we see genius stoop to the common and frivolous pur- 
 suits of life — our hope of the future is strengthened — and when we 
 see the God-hke mind strutting in silver leather and tight fleshings, 
 for the amusement of hmnanity, and a "clear half of the receipts," 
 we feel convinced that the day is not far distant when justice will be 
 done to the inspired inventor of pinchbeck, and the "genius" of the 
 "stage costumer" be recognized. As for Art, since the term 
 '^Artiste'' has been charitably naturalized, and received into the 
 mother language to gratify the vanity of aspiring barbers and second- 
 rate fiddlers, it is difficult to define what are its limits, or its attri- 
 butes — but an Actor has surely as good a right to the title of Artist, 
 as a clairvoyant (the inspired of weak nerves) or a dancing master 
 (the inspired of weak brains) to that of Professor. Art, instead of 
 being the handmaid of Nature, is now — as far as we can understand 
 it — her antagonist, and a triumphant one, too; hence sometimes, in a 
 mood of satirical revenge, she suffers her "journeymen" to finish a 
 perfect " Artiste" refusing to add her own masterstroke to the work. 
 
 Genius is characterized by exquisite sensitiveness and acute sus- 
 ceptibility; these qualities, too, the Actor possesses equally with all 
 his gifted brethren. Keats felt not more keenly the scathing of the 
 Quarterly, than he does the satire of a penny paper. 
 
 Absorbed in the fulfilment of the subHme mission of his life, it is 
 natural that the Actor should attach an exaggerated importance to 
 it, and consider that all other acquirements, when compared with 
 acting, should hold a subordinate rank. Hence he frequently 
 assumes an arbitrary independence of the laws of criticism, and 
 arrogates to himself a species of infalUbility in defining the true 
 conceptions of the Poet. He is impressed with the profound truth, 
 that Shakspeare was a kind of useful hack, whose mission on earth 
 was to furnish histrionic "Stars," with crude ideas of character, 
 which they, assisted by the appurtenances of the theatrical ward- 
 robe and "property-room," are at liberty to amplify, curtail or alter, 
 as circumstances require, or expedience suggests. Thus we have 
 
30 THE STAR FISH. 
 
 eminent Tragedians, and wandering Stars, whose knowledge of the 
 sublime and beautiful was acquired " behind the scenes," with that 
 daring which characterizes certain orders of genius — prompting its , 
 victims to "rush where angels fear to tread" — ruthlessly "adapting" 
 the works of Shaksjpeare to their own calibre or necessities. And as 
 in these days , '^ ' - > v ' . . 
 
 •A 
 " The value of a thing, • " 
 
 Is just as much as it will bring," 
 
 and the Actor is a hundred times better paid than the Author, is it 
 not evident, that in the same ratio he is more excellent? No one 
 knows better than he, that Hamlet, without the aids derived from 
 the Posture-Master, the Costumer and the Elocutionist, would be dull 
 and insipid enough. He can appreciate a sublime burst of poetry as 
 affording him an excellent opportunity for displaying his subtlety of 
 " reading" the outpourings of passion supply him with chances for 
 effective declamation; and delineations of the finer emotions of the 
 heart furnish the means of "making points." The play of Hamlet 
 with the part of Hamlet omitted, would not be tolerated by public 
 taste ; it prefers rather to see Hamlet with all the other characters 
 unobtrusively kept in the back-ground — he takes advantage of the 
 ruling fashion, and reaps his rich reward. The Author bows not 
 before the public, he receives not the applause of pit and gallery ; he is 
 a creature whose brain can be coined by " advertisement," and his 
 small meed of praise is lost in the dazzling glories of the ^' Artister 
 He may yet be revenged by another eccentricity of taste. A rage 
 for Pantomime may succeed that for panting and pausing. Repose is 
 grateful after excitement; the reign of silent action may commence ; 
 Hamlet may be reduced to a halM ; Macbeth to a pantomime; the 
 Posture-Master be elevated above the Tragedian, and Melpomene be 
 revenged for her outraged laws. It would be sad to witness, though 
 a just retribution. The Profession is privileged to " break Priscian's 
 
THESTARFISH. 3]; 
 
 head," and the operation merely evokes a smile; but when an Actor, 
 
 " T<^wering in his pride of place," 
 
 i 
 
 — like the Eagle (a transmigrated " Star " we fancy,) that broke the 
 head of ^schylus to enable him to get at his dinner — metaphorically 
 knocks the father of modem tragedy on the head by perverting the 
 issue of his brains, it almost justifies a still greater eccentricity of 
 taste than that which has exalted him into a buskined oracle, to dis- 
 place him from a false elevation. 
 
 But "success is the true test of merit." Grant this, and the Actor, 
 the Opera Singer, and Barnum are the most meritorious of men. An 
 acute observer, however, can perceive, in the most trivial develop- 
 ments of the age, a lesson or a warning, rebuking its follies or 
 threatening its crimes. Sometimes it is given in a vein of mild, 
 satirical allegory, sometimes a dire catastrophe startles the nations. 
 To the former class belongs the creation of Tom Thumb. The 
 smallest yet greatest hoax ever yet perpetrated by nature, to illus- 
 trate, in her own satirical way, by the redvjctio ad dbsurdum, the 
 fallacy of the doctrine that indiscriminately awards merit to success. 
 Mark with what bitter irony, too, she prompted some one of her 
 human accomplices to dub him "General!" It is recorded as an 
 honorable fact, that royalty once condescended to pick up the pencil 
 of Titian. How far greater than Titian must he be whom royalty 
 of both sexes has kissed and hugged ad nauseam ? Oh, that he had 
 been presented with a cross of the " legion of honor ! " Verily Tom 
 Thumb had a mission to perform, and nobly has he performed it. 
 
rH 
 
MILJLIITEJR BllRID, 
 
 ...v// ///.'// rinh 
 
'i 
 
 XpE MILLINER BIRD. 
 
 (milltnaria dulcis.) 
 
 Oh ! have you ne'er hekrd 
 
 Of the Milliner bird, 
 Who sings like a liianet from morning till night, 
 With her voice ever fresh, and her smile ever bright, 
 And her plumage unruffled, so tasty, and quite 
 
 The envy of those. 
 
 Who turn up their nose. 
 At the pert little creature whom nobody knows. 
 In the circles where all is but " couleur de rose ;" 
 
 But you may suppose 
 
 As the singing bird sews, 
 
 And fixes the rows 
 
 Of the dear little bows. 
 So tastily over the "love of a bonnet," 
 With the heart of an artist, her thought is upon it. 
 
 And not on the sneers, 
 
 Or the winks, or the jeers 
 Of those of her sex, so well versed in propriety. 
 Who would dote on her taste, but scorn her society. 
 
 5 
 
35 THEMILLINERBIRD. 
 
 She's up in the morning, be sure, with the lark, 
 Although she " sits up " half the night with her spark, 
 Who's a tight little fellow, so neat and so clean, -" 
 Who wears a red shirt, and scorns anything mean. 
 And is " bound" when she's out, to be with " de machine ;" 
 
 But he's honest and true, ^^ . 
 
 (Mr. Reader, are you ?) 
 And to purchase the sole right to " E-lizar's smile," 
 He works early and late, "for to save up a pile ;" 
 He's a whole-hearted lover, not a bit of a rake he. 
 Though he makes up a study from which Owens "played Jakey." 
 
 She's out in the street with her little band-box. 
 With her eyes peeping round her, demure as a fox. 
 And she sees by her side the fellow that thought her, 
 One night at the play, no better than she ought to ■, 
 
 Be, when she sat in her pride. 
 
 With Jake by her side, - ^ 
 
 Who looked at the fellow so ripe and so mellow. 
 And swore he would "lam him" until he would bellow, ' ' 
 
 Like an ox, 
 
 With the knocks 
 Of Keyser so brave, when he handles the cleaver, 
 And such is the "sass" he would give the deceiver. 
 
 She dotes on the " Red coats," and says Jake was sensible. 
 When he left off the "Greys" and became a "State Fencible!" 
 (Now here'll be " a muss," so look out Mr. Editor, 
 You're to father the sins, so don't give me the credit, or. 
 
 Instead of praise. 
 
 Maybe one of the "Greys" 
 Will come to my office one of these very fine days. 
 Give me a punch in the head, and tear off my green ha,{ize)y8 ! 
 
T H E M I L L I N E R B I R D. 37 
 
 As a peace man, of course, I won't get in a rage, 
 But I'll trouble you sir to employ Captain Page, 
 Who though soldier, is lawyer, and I know'U take a fee, 
 And help us to settle the "assault and battery.") 
 ,,But, ^'Reveiwns 
 
 A nos moutons,'' 
 Which means, (if we have a thought above buttons,) 
 To return to your subject, as the French say, i/our muttons ; 
 
 She goes to a ball. 
 
 With her beau, at the Hall . 
 Of the Musical Fund, the Museum, or Sansom street, 
 'Tis no matter which, where she twinkles her handsome feet, 
 
 And she thinks of the time. 
 
 In her mother's young prime, 
 E'er the Polka was danced, or Mazourka invented, 
 (To make people fly round as if demented,) 
 
 And she says, with her beau, 
 
 That " them times was slow,'\ 
 For she so loves "to Polka," though Jake's "a mite" jealous. 
 Of one of "them mustycheered dandified fellers." 
 
 Sweet—" Go to the devil ! 
 
 Oh, come now! be civil!" 
 
 Said a voice at our elbow, a hand on our chair. 
 
 We turned, and we saw, that the devil was there. 
 
 As the devil is here at our side, why then we, 
 
 Must furnish the fiend with all our cop-y, ' 
 
 Here's an end to my subject, " Good night, my sweet bird ! " — 
 
 "Here, Imp, take the copy" — he did — but ne'er stirred — 
 
 "Farewell, my dear bird" — zounds ! still the imp lingers — 
 
 With his thumb on his nose, he is working his fingers ! 
 
 W. A. S. 
 
38 THEMILLINERBIRD. « 
 
 Note. — I didn't do nothink ! I wish I'd been and gone and done 
 suthink tho', wen you sed that thing about yer "green bays." If 
 yer vants to vear the haize, vy dont yer go fur to 'ply fur the 
 "Poick Lorrit" of Queen Wictoria? Say? Vy dont yer go and 
 zibit yerself at the Vorld's fair? — You're a poick, you are ! Oh ! 
 
 Printer's Devil. 
 
'^ "'"^^^r^^ii 
 
 1 ..I _4_ 
 
 kJl K. 
 
THE LARK. 
 
 (alauda noctiyaqans.) 
 
 Well do we remember our boyhood's days, when the injunction 
 that good boys should rise with the lark, if they wished to prosper in 
 this world, was served up to us with our daily breakfast. But 
 singular as it may appear, although we always retired well-filled 
 with good resolutions, we invariably found our courage oozing out 
 of our fingers ends, Bob-Acres like, in the morning. This, our 
 readers may be assured, was a frequent source of grief to us in our 
 days of jacketdom; but on arriving at maturer years, "getting no 
 better very fast," we have been strengthened and encouraged in our 
 daily backslidings by frequent recurrence to the well known anecdote 
 of Chief Justice O'Grady and his hopeful son : 
 
 " Get up Jack," said the Chief Justice, "the early bird catches the 
 worm." ■ 
 
 " Serves the worm right for getting up so early," replied young 
 hopeful. 
 
 " Ye wyche," saith the ancient chronicler Pepys, " was a pregnynte 
 and ryghte wittie reply e." > 
 
 As for the lark, which is no doubt the early t)ird referred to by the 
 Chief Justice, we have caught several of them in our day, and have 
 been on terms of intimacy with many in the merry season of youth ; 
 we purpose showing in this paper the specimen we refer to, and 
 
40 THE LARK. 
 
 which our readers will observe, resembles in many prominent points, 
 the bird known by the name of the lark in the writings of the 
 various ornithologists, though hitherto unknown to Wilson or 
 Audubon. The fidelity of the likeness may be depended upon, as 
 it was drawn on the spot by our artist from a rare specimen in the 
 hands of a watchman " early in the morning." 
 
 Wilson, speaking of the lark, observes : " In this genus of birds 
 the bill is straight, slender, bending a little towards the end, and 
 sharp-pointed." The bill of the man lark, on the contrary, is gen- 
 erally large and of great length ; we have seen several, however, 
 that looked as if they had been suddenly " cut short." There are 
 several species of the lark, the man lark, however, combines the 
 principal features of them all. .• 
 
 " The sky-lark commences his song early in the Spring, and con- 
 tinues it during the whole of the Summer, and is one of those few 
 birds that chant whilst on the wing." 
 
 As to the time of year in which the man-lark commences his 
 song, it is immaterial to him; he knows no seasons, and chants 
 indifferently well, either at night or in the morning early. 
 
 " When the sky-lark first rises from the earth its notes are feeble 
 and interrupted; as it ascends, however, they gradually swell to 
 their full tone, and long after the bird has reached a height where it 
 is lost to the eye, it still continues to charm the ear with its melody." 
 
 The man-lark never touches the earth until he is overcome with 
 the excess of his emotions, then his notes are feeble and interrupted. 
 Before arriving at a horizontal position, he indulges in a series of melo- 
 dious strains, not calculated to charm the ear, but on the contrar}'^, to 
 disturb the peace of the Commonwealth, as well as the equanimity 
 and temper of quiet citizens who wish to indulge in " a wink of the 
 balmy" at midnight. 
 
 " The sky-lark mounts almost perpendicularly, and by successive 
 springs, and descends in an oblique direction, unless threatened with 
 danger, when it drops like a stone." 
 
THE LARK. 4]_ 
 
 The man-lark rises perpendicularly, if he can, and also indulges in 
 successive springs, until stopped by the summary proceedings of the 
 night bird, whose duty it is " to watch and prey." He descends also 
 very frequently in an oblique direction, but when threatened with 
 danger, runs, if he is able — but after having been on " a flyer," finds 
 it somewhat difficult. 
 
 "The female forms her nest On the ground, generally between 
 two clods of earth, and lines it with dry grass." 
 
 The man-lark finds his nest ready made, and it is a matter of in- 
 difierence to the " clod " whether he " rests his head upon a lap of 
 earth," or indulges in a soft and balmy repose upon a cellar door. — 
 Never having examined his nest, we cannot speak with certainty as 
 to the lining, although we have often heard him told to "get out of 
 that high grass !" It is to be presumed in this respect he agrees with 
 the sky-lark. ' «* 
 
 "In the Autumn, when these birds assemble in flocks they are 
 taken in vast numbers." 
 
 As to the points of resemblance with the man-lark, see 10 Swift's 
 Rep. ; 1 Jones' Cond. Rep. ; 1 Gilpin's Dig, 
 
 "The wood-lark is generally found near the borders of woods, 
 perches on trees, and sings during the night, so as sometimes to be 
 mistaken for the nightingale." 
 
 The man-lark prefers cities, perches any where, sings at any time, 
 and can always be distinguished from the nightingale. 
 
 Eschewing brilliant and complicated airs, he indulges in simple 
 and touching melodies, applicable both to time and place, such as, 
 *' Landlord, fill the flowing bowl ;" " We won't go home till morning ;" 
 and ending in a state of semi-consciousness while being escorted by a 
 guard of honor to his night's repose, with " Carry me back." 
 
 " The wood-lark is of a reddish drab color, with a whitish tint 
 beneath ; a broad patch on the breast and under each eye, as well as 
 the lateral tail feathers black." • ^ " . 
 
 The face of the man-lark is of a similar color, inclining more to 
 
42' T H E LARK. 
 
 the reddish, a spot or patch on the pantaloons instead of the breast, 
 and one or two under each eye, or sometimes only one. These 
 features^ however, rarely appear until the close of the night, or on 
 the following morning. The lateral tail feathers are of various hues, 
 and generally draggled. 
 
 "The brown-lark is found in open fields, cultivated grounds, &c., 
 near the water, and feeds exclusively on insects." Not so with the 
 man-lark, who is of city growth, and who is ever found nearer to 
 brandy and water, which he assiduously mingles, and absorbs in the 
 proportion of ten to one ; — "Very little water, if you please; hold up ! 
 do you want to drown it?" The "it" of course referring to the 
 brandy, and not to the insects in the water, against whom he wages 
 a determined war; agreeing in that respect, with the celebrated 
 Jonathan Sucker, [1 Finn's Com. Aim. H. Rep. 192,] of whom it was 
 felicitously observed by C. J. Van Dunck, in the well known Zuyder- 
 Zee case, " That of water alone he drinks no more than a rose sup- 
 plies its own dew on a summer's morn." 
 
 Of a bird so frequently met with, we feel it is unnecessary to say 
 any thing more. For the information of those who have not 
 < travelled" as extensively as a majority of the youth of this city, we 
 beg leave to append the authorities from which we have derived our 
 knowledge. — 1 Mino's Rep. Bender's edition, [Star page] 120. — Cob- 
 ler V8. Smasher, 5 Guy's Dig. 156.— ^Nips m. Blizzard, 4 Pelletier Rep. 
 200. — 15 Mooney, 225. [Every page of this work is replete with 
 information, and may be studied with advantage by every student.] — 
 Swift's Rep. 1 to 10.— 1 Gilpin's Rep. 65.-7 Parsons' Rep. C. Q. S. 
 [A most excellent work.] 
 
 In conclusion we would observe, we have retired from the Profes- 
 sorship ! If, therefore, any aspiring youth wishes to know more of 
 this subject, a careful study of the above authorities, will bring him 
 in contact with many earnest and learned students, who will show 
 him at any time, at a reasonable expense, how " to train up a child, 
 and away he goes" • W. A. S. 
 
liik zK cohrs hyJ iosmtkaiMW- 
 
 K. ]r ir <Gr M J[ R JID 
 

 THE KING BIED 
 
 (TYPOGRAPHUS JOCOSUS. KINGEN B(A)IED. — VUL.) / 
 
 - ' ■^' ' ' - . 
 
 As printing is the Queen of all arts, so we think it ought to fol- 
 low that the printer is King amongst artizans. Whether or not, this 
 much is certain, our bird is King amongst printers. 
 
 Printing has always had something of mystery about it — it is so 
 very odd that little pieces of metal can be made to talk so boldly, or 
 rather ring so loudly, that the tone once given never ceases. That 
 dead men tell no tales remains yet a proverb, though we propose to 
 have it abolished immediately : the longest tales we know of are told 
 by men dead long ago. What do you think of Sinbad the sailor ? 
 It is a long time since he subsided, poor fellow, yet his tales maintain 
 their hold astride of this wise world's shoulders equal to that of the 
 Old Man of the Sea, in the most obstinate of the fits recorded of him. 
 You may thank the types for it, Sinbad. . • ^ 
 
 Printing is a sort of abstract speech, all gesticulations omitted — 
 all manipulatory sawings and sign makings, and enforcing nods of the 
 head. Not understanding this principle, old Frenchmen and Indians 
 would make bad printers. 
 
 Printing then is a sort of conversation especially contrived for the 
 gratification of garrulous persons, either totally extinct or partially 
 
44 THE KING BI IID. 
 
 SO, by which they can have the benefit of the last word to the last 
 generations, and nobody to contradict them — for there appears to be 
 as yet no way of talking back at them. There they have a decided 
 advantage, rather unfairly we think ; for the liberty of lecturing the 
 world without being called upon for explanations, though very con- 
 venient, and often, very often assumed, can now-a-days be indulged 
 in only on this sole condition, most carefully observed : viz. that the 
 world shall not hear you. It asks such inconvenient questions of 
 you, — but only to contemporaries, — have patience, you shall have all 
 you ask without reciprocation. What a gratification it would be, 
 though, to have the privilege of asking Methuselah what his opinions 
 were of things in general ! — or of obtaining from Solomon his views 
 as to how a man is to pay his debts when he has no money, which 
 interesting item of information he forgot to record ! It's no go — it is 
 very easy to call up spirits from the vasty deep, but quite another 
 business to make them come — it's no go ! 
 
 Did we understand you, sir, to suggest knockings ? Pshaw, pshaw 
 — our faith is in pullings, not in knockings : one sturdy pull of the 
 printing press is worth forty thousand of them — it would be a 
 deplorable bargain to give it in exchange for all the knockings ever 
 inflicted on the soft nose of fatuitous credulity. 
 
 From the time of John Faust, favorably mentioned by Goethe, to 
 that of the old lady with the firm faith who wished to wait until she 
 could have a new Bible printed, due importance has been awarded to 
 the types, but no more than they deserve. 
 
 Especially of late years, when the far-stretching tendrils of the 
 press are reaching every where. 
 
 The modem press is the greatest miracle yet performed by us 
 latter-day saints. 
 
 The planets would have revolved as punctually without being 
 named or their courses predicted ; raw mutton might have done as 
 well had roasting never been invented. We wish to undervalue nothing 
 though, but to keep due respect for all the sciences, and especially 
 
THEKINGBIRD. 45 
 
 those of practical importance, such as astronomy and gastronomy ; 
 but this we do insist on, that the penny paper is the noblest breakfast 
 yet devised by genius for hungering bound to rise, or lately risen 
 humanity. 
 
 Thank you, sir, for the suggestion. Certainly, Madam, with a fair 
 allowance of ham and eggs — not otherwise by any means ; we did 
 not mean any such thing ; so far from it, we now most willingly give 
 in coffee and bread and butter. So we stand corrected, coffee, bread 
 and butter, ham and eggs, and the penny paper are the constituents 
 of the great breakfast which we think may be considered as of pro- 
 perly impressive signification. • 
 
 But the paper is the most important item. 
 
 You talk to yourself for want of better society ; or, more probably 
 ill naturedly — for much the larger amount of soliloquizing is done by 
 persons who are not on good terms with themselves more than half 
 of the time; or you venture some comments on the musical abilities 
 of your favorite cat, especially touching the conspicuous part he 
 sustained in the catarrh concert under your window last evening, 
 and the unseasonable or altogether unjustifiable hour at which it 
 came off. Have a care ! — the statute against eaves-dropping is clearly 
 obsolete — ^your soliloquy or critique (no doubt a good one) may turn 
 out to be the loudest talking you ever did — the far-reaching tendrils 
 of the press have got you ; forthwith, swift shuttle-like fingers are in 
 motion, and your talk has become louder than if it had been per- 
 formed on the biggest bass drum you ever saw, or most scientifically 
 blown on the deepest toned bassoon, or a valve trumpet of the 
 highest key. 
 
 And irrevocably, too, there is no taking it back. As we hinted 
 above, you may call it, but it wont come ; your idea has taken new 
 gnome-like gossamer wings, and flown forever to the future. 
 
 You have heard of the indestructibility of matter — that the world 
 is not the most minute fraction of a grain lighter now than when 
 first discovered; you have heard of adamant and asbestos; have 
 
46 THE KING BIED. 
 
 seen rocks and iron — the former wear away by the constant dropping 
 of water, the latter rusts to red ashes : there is nothing so indestruc- 
 tible as printed paper. 
 
 So far, then, we are safe for certain — the printer is King. 
 
 Of the history and attributes of the printer bird we scarcely 
 know what to say, he changes his farm so often ; but by the time 
 he gets done with our book we don't know where his diange will be 
 — we will then try to mform him, on condition that he does not lock 
 us up. 
 
 He deserves to be King, though ; and King we insist upon him being, 
 for he's a right royal fellow, whether as printer, soldier, or ordinance 
 maker, in council or in general. Soldiering he had to give up — he was 
 too fat. The bloody Greys, after long deliberation, concluded that 
 he would never do for the scenes of grand crash and carnage they 
 anticipated being called on to assist in : if they were all killed to 
 one man, as they fully expected, and that one man should be he, 
 what sort of a looking skeleton of the regiment would he be ? He 
 could not go through with that part of the drill ; he might subject 
 his devoted comrades to posthumous ridicule ; it would never do to 
 stand such a risk, so he gave it up. 
 
 Having declined assisting in discharging ordnaTice, he took to 
 assisting in the manufacture of ordinance with great success. He^ot 
 to be guardian of the poor — capital ! — what a just appreciation ! When 
 we get to be so poor as to require a guardian, give us by all means a 
 good hearted fat man — one who knows how to feed — one who has 
 been successful at the very experiment we have failed in — give us 
 by all means a fat man. 
 
 Dock Ward is the native locality of our King bird. His natural 
 history we have not satisfactorily traced. We suppose he originally 
 flourished in some shape on the banks of Dock creek — when that 
 was dried up, he, as well as all other of its inhabitants, had, according 
 to the theory of Lamarck, to take some other shape adapted to their 
 new necessities. Possibly he was a turtle — but not a snapper — the 
 
THEKINGBIRD. ;- 47. 
 
 turtle being the only animal we have ascertained to have inhabited 
 that locality, which made impressions — on the mud to be sure — but 
 was the only animal — so it may have transformed itself into a printer 
 and continued its impressions on better material. We have felt 
 confirmed in this theory, too, by the discovery of a far-off liking in 
 him yet for the same sort of society, and suspect a rudimental par- 
 tiality also for that watery fluid in which turtles swim now-Ordays. 
 
 Good luck to him — he's a good fellow — but we are sorry to have 
 to say that he has troubles, too — he has not even a well-established 
 cognomen, — let him jest, as he often does, how soon people say he 
 is jo-king. " - 'v. . ' 
 
 Short in stature and very social — he can scarcely indulge in an 
 affable chat — it is immediately insisted that he is a tall-king. 
 
 Rather corpulent, as we have intimated — if he is quiet or disposed 
 somewhat to abstraction — ^how very provoking — there is no help for 
 it : beyond a doubt he is thin-king. 
 
 Sunk into his office chair (not sin-king), in the inviting coolness of 
 twilight, or to enjoy a grateful breeze in the heat of a summer's noon- 
 day, — one would almost think he was in great luck at something he 
 was never suspected of — he is win-king. 
 
 Courteous reader — we will desist immediately — ^lest you may be 
 forced to the conclusion, that he, and we ourselves, are positively 
 pshaw-king. . C. 
 
 P.S. The insect represented on the plate is one of great rarity, and 
 was only caught by our artist with great di^culty and expense. He 
 is of the blue-bottle fly species, and buzzes constantly about printing 
 offices, though very hard to catch. v 
 
 • „ 
 
m- 
 
c.'.jrs 6j ■.:jAu::euuj/.'L i. /i,i,o'.- 
 
 W ITT Mr - M ITT(Rr-_ 
 
•'t* 
 
 THE HUMBUG. 
 
 (PHLEBOTOMUS STULTORUM.) 
 
 HuM-M-M, Bur-r-r, num-m-m — Hum-m-m Bug. Greatly to our aston- 
 ishment, while sitting immersed in a " cogibundity of cogitation," in 
 our sanctum, we were aroused by a humming and a buzzing, and 
 amidst " the noise and confusion," discovered before us upon the 
 table, the distinguished bug whose likeness adorns these pages. To 
 our extraordinary presence of mind, aided by a pair of tweezers, is 
 our artist indebted for the opportunity of making immortal this very 
 rare, and not ye{^ quite done bug of North American growth, and we 
 fearlessly challenge the world to produce its equal. " The age of 
 chivalry has past y the age is now decidedly humbugeous ; so mote 
 it be. 
 
 We have been in company of big bugs before now ; nay, we have 
 actually been honored with a friendly grip, which, politically speak- 
 ing, is only intended for a feeler, and have been much exalted in our 
 estimation by the condescension : but we confess to a feeling of admi- 
 ration, almost amounting to reverence, for this noble specimen. 
 
50 THEHUMBUG. 
 
 By a reference to a small pamphlet now before us, we are informed 
 that this Bug came into the world on the fifth day of July, 1810. 
 Its birth-place was in a village, in that most celebrated portion of 
 the New England States, famous, among many things, for the aroma 
 of its wooden nutmegs, and the delicious flavor of its hams, which, 
 aided by a plentiful garnishing of Wethersfield onions, have been 
 known to bring tears into the eyes of their producers ; a satirical 
 friend of ours observes, they are tears of joy, consequent upon a good 
 trade upon the outsiders. 
 
 Very different, however, are the " tears which fall from beauty's 
 eye," viz : the purchaser, upon the discovery of the pious fraud of the 
 children of Noah upon Ham ; for after the first emotions of their 
 grief have subsided, they would, without remorse, in their rasher mood 
 inflict a punishment, which the deceiver, by a rapid flight, eludes, and 
 thus saves his bacon. 
 
 After these few preliminary remarks, need we say to the reader, 
 that the glorious little State we refer to is Connecticut, so famous, 
 also, for its stringent code of laws, by which men were forbidden to 
 kiss their wives, and beer to work on the Sabbath. 
 
 The career of this Bug during its early years, was singularly unfor- 
 tunate ; in fact, its legitimate efforts to arrive at a comfortable posi- 
 tion in life, proved to be only a Jium. Discovering that the bent of 
 its genius did not lie in the beaten path of the world, after three 
 unsuccessful attempts to " put money in its purse," and fired with 
 ambition at the dazzling career of the distinguished " Gnome Fly," 
 sometimes called Hervio Nano, it vaulted into the saddle of popular 
 gullibility, by engaging the celebrated war chief, of the renowned 
 tribe of the " Boohoojahs," to display before the delighted eyes of the 
 citizens of Quattlebum, in " Elysian Fields," the noble sport of the 
 hunt of the wild Buffaloes. 
 
 Having in this instance taken the Bull by the horns successfully, 
 (the only kind of JiornSj we believe, it has ever been known to take,) 
 
 »!fc 
 
T H E H U MBUG. 5J 
 
 it made another bold speculation, by an adventure in wool, the result 
 of which was the production of two splendid specimens, viz : " The 
 Aged Servant of Washington," and the " Woolly Horse." The verity 
 that should characterize the biographer, calls upon us to say, that 
 the latter was the most unparalleled instance of a belief in the credi- 
 bility of the age, ever heard of in history. This generous confidence 
 in human nature, we regret to state, was met at the very threshold 
 by doubt, and by an universal cry from an indignant public, of 
 " No Quarters ;" a species of insult our ingenious inventor could not 
 brook, and therefore withdrew it from the public eye, in the hope 
 that posterity would do it justice, and some future Macaulay 
 chronicle it as the most stupendous, if not, like the celebrated 
 Trojan horse, the most successful " squizzle" of its day. 
 
 Master of the great secrets of Nature, for which the Rosicruscians 
 toiled and died, leaving no sign, he exhibited to the admiring citizens 
 of the model Republic, the extraordinary fact of the possession of a 
 power by which he was enabled to revivify the worn out elements of 
 humanity, and thus sustain for a series of years, the venerable Joice 
 Heth, whose original bones lie entombed in various States of the 
 Union. So successful was he, that notwithstanding the great original 
 several times paid the debt of nature, he was enabled by his wonderful 
 skill to re-produce her anew. What was the nature of this astonishing 
 power, we are unable to say ; we can only surmise. Was it in truth 
 an occult science, won from the mighty dead by wizard spells and 
 muttered conjurations beneath moonlit gibbets? or was it the mighty 
 power of music, which he has since evoked so successfully, and which 
 in ancient times brought back Eurydice from Hades ? Orpheus, we 
 are told, did this by the aid of a lyre, (the liar, however, we suspect 
 to have been his biographer,) and may not his mantle have fallen 
 upon our Bug ? True it is, we have been informed, our ingenious 
 friend does not possess the power to turn a tune, although he has 
 shown his ability to turn the heads of " Yankee Doodle." 
 
 P 
 
52 THE HUMBUG. ^ 
 
 We incline to the opinion that this information is incorrect, and as 
 lyres are not used at the present time, except as bill posters, it is to 
 be supposed the instruments upon which he discoursed such eloquent 
 music, were the Ethiopian Bones. Incredulity has suggested, that 
 more than one " Venerable Old Nigger" served the turn of this shrewd 
 philosopher ; that her appearance at various stages of her career was 
 different, there being a general resemblance in the decrepitude of the 
 body, but not in the human face divine, other than that family 
 likeness which "old darkies % bear to each other; but this is at 
 once put to flight by the fact, that when other and greater specu- 
 lations were opened unto him, he parted with her to a brother 
 Bug, in whose hands she soon sickened and died. We must 
 therefore infer that the secret of his power did not pass by delivery 
 of the coT'pus, as he was heard one day to exclaim in a fit of 
 indignation, "that he (the brother Bug,) did'nt know his business, 
 or he would have been able to have kept her alive for another 
 hundred years." 
 
 It has struck us as a singular coincidence in the lives of great men, 
 that they all have some " ancient tree," which is endeared to them 
 by many tender recollections. We read of them in history, from the 
 retreat of Tusculum to the no less classic grounds of Marshfield ; to 
 that lair where the huge monster of intellectual power retires from 
 the strife and turmoil of political warfare, to "hook codfish," and 
 indulge in " chowder," interchanging those lively pursuits with deep 
 speculations into the future, scenting afar off the coming of the storm, 
 which threatens to whelm the ship of State, with the keenness of the 
 seafarer, whose life has been one long undaunted struggle with the 
 ocean wave; gathering anew his energies for the day when the 
 nation's voice once again calls loudly on him jn the hour of trouble 
 and dismay, to go down, in the diving bells of thought, into the angry 
 waters of agitation and discontent, to bring from thence the pearls of 
 great constitutional truths, to be scattered broadcast over the political 
 
 .J 
 
T H E H U M B U G . 53 
 
 surface, and allay the waters which are ever rising to the lips of the 
 helmsman, waters more bitter than those of Marah.* 
 
 Our bug, as we learn from his pamphlet, also had his tree, planted 
 by his forefathers, and many a joyous hour had he rolled and tum- 
 bled beneath its shade ; it is a fine trait in his character, that in the 
 day of his prosperity, he did not forget to adorn anew the home of 
 his early years, nor cease to remember the affections and comfort of 
 her who made the spot a sacred and a loved one. 
 
 We know not if our bug, like Wolsey, " has touched the highest 
 point of all his greatness ;" certainly it might be supposed, that be- 
 yond the successes of the immortal Thumb, human ingenuity could 
 no farther go, or a career of " Fortune's Frolics " surpass that of the 
 fair Swede. He may have reached his culminating point, but we 
 doubt it ; perhaps the desire to excel the renowned Gliddon, may 
 induce him to enter the field against him, and if he cannot exceed 
 him in his devotion to his " Mummy," he may yet astonish us by 
 transporting hither on some fine sun-shiny morning, the Pyramid of 
 Cheops as his offering to the national monument to be erected to the 
 Father of his Country. 
 
 Our subject has become almost too vast for contemplation, we may 
 be pardoned, therefore, if in conclusion we indulge in a vision of the 
 future. Who can foretell the result of this indomitable energy upon 
 posterity ? The time may come when the " Expectorant " and the 
 " Carminative," now so celebrated, may be forgotten, and the massive 
 edifice now occupied by Dr. Jayne, be purchased by a grateful people, 
 as a mausoleum for the remains of the immortal Phineas; yea, when 
 the present powerful dominions of the world shall be merged in the 
 great model Republic, then shall come from all the ends of the earth, 
 the pilgrim hordes to the New Jerusalem of their faith ; and some 
 
 * A competent person to fill a " Consulship," may be found at this office : Address, 
 post paid, to the Publisher. 
 
54 T H E H U M B U G. 
 
 future Gliddon, standing upon the tower now consecrated to " Tonics" 
 and " Hair Oils," astounded at the results of his investigations into 
 the dimness of the past, filled with admiration of the extraordinary 
 merits of this scintillating Bug of the nineteenth century, may shout 
 aloud unto the assembled multitude, hanging upon the " eloquence 
 of his lips," in the language of a celebrated barbarian poet of the 
 sixteenth century. 
 
 " This was the greatest Humbug of them all." 
 ■,#;, * • • W. A. S. 
 
"/ L.ll().\fn//h'/ , / V 
 
 WIDOW BIRB 
 
THE WIDOW BIRD. 
 
 (siren lacrymosa.) 
 
 The Natural History of this formidable species is little understood. 
 Its most marked characteristic, an excessive variableness of mood as 
 well as plumage, has no slight tendency to increase the difficulties 
 and uncertainties of its definition ; and beside, the investigation 
 has been found to be attended with such decided perils, that 
 prudent, and particularly middle-aged Savans, have not been found 
 disposed to encounter them wilfully. We therefore approach a sub- 
 ject circumspectly which we propose only to deal with daintily. We 
 ^1, flatter ourselves that we possess too much prudence, in a word, to 
 venture to a veil ourself of innuendo in reference to so grave a topic. 
 
 We would say, in general terms, in reference to those rapid transi- 
 tions of plumage, which we have denominated the most marked 
 characteristics of this singular species, that it has proven to be im- 
 possible to determine any laws by which they are governed. All 
 we can say of them is, that they do occur and usually at most unex- 
 pected intervals, and in surprising contrasts. We have seen in swift 
 metamorphosis the sable " weeds" exchanged for " decorous grey," 
 and that again, presto ! for the gayest colors of the Spring : not that 
 this would by any means imply a beggarly 
 
 " Thrift, thrift, Horatio ! the funeral baked meats 
 Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables." 
 
56 THE WIDOW BIRD. 
 
 Not at all ! It merely sets forth in demonstration this well-known 
 peculiaristic of the whole numerous family of Syrens, from the 
 ancient Circe and Aspasia down to the modern coquette. We venture 
 to say, however, of the Widow Bird particularly, in contradistinction 
 to all other groups of the Family Syrena, whether ancient or modern, 
 that in no one of them are these changes so mysterious, so entirely 
 beyond the ken of mortals under thirty-five — for beyond that age 
 men know absolutely less than nothing concerning this species. 
 Indeed, it had as well be confessed that old Authors have attributed 
 to this Syrena certain powers of conjuration, derived from the forbid- 
 den Black arts, the spell of which is said to be cunningly concealed 
 within the garments about the person. A Rev. Divine, yclept of old 
 " Herrick," hath not scrupled to reveal to the world concerning this 
 diabolical craft, that it may take warning accordingly. He saith, — 
 
 " A sweet disorder in the dresse 
 Kindles in cloaths a wantonesse ; 
 A lawne about the shoulders throwne 
 Into a fine distractione ; 
 A cunning wave, deserving note, 
 In the tempestious petticote j 
 • A careless shoe string, in whose tye 
 I see a wild civility, — 
 Does more bewitch me than when arte 
 Is too precise in every parte.'* ' 
 
 Now here is in specialty the art and mystery of the Widow Bird, 
 in this particular of her plumage, wherein we of Natural Science have 
 been so greatly mystified. But there is yet another accessory of this 
 craft, concerning the laws of which and the periods, we are equally 
 in the dark, and to the mention of which we approach with even 
 greater trepidation. We have designated this, Syrena as Lachrymus, 
 and we can but exclaim in terror of the very word, — 
 
 " 0, father, what a hell of witchcraft lies 
 In the small orb of one particular tear I" 
 
 Herein, indeed, consists the pathetic earnest of that designation 
 
T II E W I D W B I R D . 57 
 
 " lormidable," which we have ventured to apply in this case, at the 
 beginning. Think where must be the susceptibilities of impressible 
 " thirty," when, in addition to the fair brow, 
 
 " Sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," 
 
 " Melancholy 
 Displays her sable banner," 
 
 casting its shadow down upon the humid loveliness beneath, and 
 then — and then ! — 
 
 " Her dark eyes shining through forgotten tears," 
 
 forgotten, alas — for thee ! Where is thy philosophy then, thy pride, 
 thy obduracy, thy spiritual heroics, thy denial of the flesh ? Gone ! 
 gone — 
 
 " Like the baseless fabric of a vision !" 
 
 Thou art lost ! Thou knowest not what thou doest ! In thy bewil- 
 derment she is already folded to thy bosom, — 
 
 " With all her limbs on tremble, and her eyes 
 Shut softly up alive." 
 
 Art thou forsworn to other vows ? — What can'st thou, but wildly 
 plead with her, — 
 
 '' Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, 
 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, 
 Persuade my heart to this false perjury ?" 
 
 Art thou despairing ? thou can'st but cry aloud — 
 
 " Kill mc outright with looks, and rid my pain !" 
 
 What wonder, then, that the profound Mr. Weller had constantly 
 upon his lips the learned aphorism, " Beware of the vidders, Samivel !" 
 
58 T H E W I D W B I R d7^ 
 
 Like all men of enlarged experience, the father of Samivel had learned 
 concerning this delusive Widow bird, that 
 
 " Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale 
 Her infinite variety" — 
 
 since, careful of the ages of her victims as she may be, she herself is 
 nevertheless always in her non-age ! i 
 
 c. w. w. 
 
 
liZh. in colors hfZIos&mtn 
 
 ITTCEriKlR. BIM.1D)S o 
 
THE BUTCHER EIED. 
 
 (TEXTOR LUCANICARUM.) • 
 
 Man or mouse, mastodon or moth, all animals are disposed to 
 solace themselves occasionally with the society of their females. 
 Upon a foundation having this amiable propensity for one of its cor- 
 ner stones, the great and rather well constructed fabric of social life, 
 both of man and prairie dogs, — and other animals generally,* is 
 founded. 
 
 The most sociable and gregarious of all, man is pre-eminently dis- 
 tinguished by the enduring character of, or as Cuvier justly observes, 
 by the constant presence of this social instinct. Ought he not to 
 have excepted bachelors ? 
 
 We do — we except bachelors — it was a scandalous oversight in 
 Cuvier, at all events we are disposed to make an exception, especially 
 in favor of all such as are engaged in the pursuit of the sciences. How 
 very odd it is that so many of us gentlemen philosophers are bache- 
 lors ; from Sir Isaac Newton downwards and upwards, this has been 
 and is the case, though very few like him have made or perhaps 
 ought to have made death-bed revelations touching thereupon. Pro- 
 bably not, for the influence of celibaceous example might become 
 
 8 
 
 ^ 
 
60 THE BUTCHER BIRD. 
 
 somewhat obnoxious 4o obvious interests of that same social fabric, 
 the original builders of which were most assuredly not bachelors. 
 
 We attribute this curious feature so general in philosophers, to the 
 possession of what Rousseau calls the fatal gift of prevayance, which 
 may have been designedly bestowed by Nature, as a guarantee for 
 the better or more calm and undisturbed prosecution of the sciences. 
 It must be so ; this fatal gift to scientifics, philosophers, professors, 
 doctors and miscellaneous descriptions of learned individuals, is 
 surely the cause of their several celibacies. 
 
 But we begin to perceive that this is a position attended with some 
 difficulty. We are aware of the necessity of speaking with great cir- 
 cumspection on such a profound subject, and must incidentally beg 
 to be understood as venturing an hypothesis only without being suffi- 
 cently well assured that we ourselves have completely mastered it. 
 In fact, we suspect that without exercising that great caution for 
 which we are so remarkable, we have set our foot into a specula- 
 lation without quite understanding it. There are difficulties insepa- 
 rable from this supposition. Nature does not endow all philosophers 
 with this gift. Some of the best of them that we know, are not 
 bachelors at all, but have long since assumed the more dignified posi- 
 tion of duality and even further and more extensive duplication. 
 
 And besides, if Nature cared so particularly about the cultivation 
 of the sciences, there would not be so many bom blockheads. Here 
 is another mystery to us, why should there be such a profuse waste 
 of good bowels ? We have not time, or we would pause for a reply. 
 
 It is of no sort of consequence. 
 
 Our first view is scarcely tenable. 
 
 Suppose the promulgation of this gift of bachelor prevoyance should 
 be one of their peculiar missions, and all men should become possessed 
 thereof, what a queer aspect this social world of ours would shortly 
 assume. That would be putting a strange face on the business; such 
 a change as would be everywhere, in streets, houses, and high- 
 ways — by-lanes and alleys particularly ; what, all those dirty little 
 
THE BUTCHER BI 11 D Ql 
 
 faces and ragged breeches to vanish without hope of further supply ? 
 No, by St. Ann, Nature will see you hanged first ; that work goes 
 nobly on, at all hazards ; your fatal gift would make it bad for quite 
 other designs of hers, Messieurs Bachelors. 
 
 Not at all, — prevoyance will not answer, — ^we are tempted to write 
 a continuation of the treatise by Erasmus, in praise of Ignorance, or 
 at least a new edition of it, with ample notes and commentaries. 
 
 Entertained opinions are seldom the results of reasoning. They 
 are much more frequently derived from accidental position, or from 
 circumstances of unavoidable or necessary occurrence. A Turk born 
 in Bagdad, is a Mohammedan by the necessity of his birth ; the little 
 boy who cried all the night before he was born, for fear he would be 
 a girl, was by necessity born a boy. 
 
 This is what we call philosophical necessity — a very stringent 
 afiair, somehow mixed in with all things that cannot be helped. 
 
 The opinions of philosophers partake largely of this necessary cha- 
 racter, so much so that we can frequently infer them. 
 
 We should like to see a well-to-do professor, who did not continue 
 to advocate the old-fashioned doctrines he got rich by ! 
 
 And now, so far as relates to one of the questions of the schools of 
 our own day, should not bachelor philosophers necessarily be inclined 
 to support the theory of the unity of the human race ? They do so 
 practically which is most efficient, but not near suf^cient. 
 
 All supporters of this theory we suspect of being bachelors. Smyth, 
 Bachman, the latter rather a testy one. All and singular of those 
 disposed to admit the possibility of an opposite doctrine, are above 
 our suspicion. The celebrated Morton has ably demonstrated his 
 views, both by chapters and children. Agassiz tried the unity posi- 
 tion first — didn't like it and got married — so did Gliddon — sensible 
 men and good philosophers, both. 
 
 The question to which we have alluded, has led to considerable 
 discussion, and widely bifurcating difierence of conclusions. We 
 mean that of the unity of the human race. 
 
Q2 TIIEBUTCUERBIRD. -« 
 
 We understand it. There are three kinds of this unity, viz : 
 bachelor unity, which we don't want to be further bothered about ; 
 another, of a kind which Caligula wished for, by no means to be ap- 
 proved of; and a third alluded to by Byron, only relating to women, 
 however, and proposing to bring about a concentration of pretty lips 
 into one climax of a beautiful mouth. Commend us to that. 
 
 The unity of the human race only existed when Adam was a 
 bachelor. When he found means of contracting a matrimonial alli- 
 ance, the human race assumed a state of duality, but took upon itself 
 a character of more advanced arithmetic without delay. And this has 
 been the case ever since — the present human race having appeared at 
 various times and various places ; but as like effects can always be 
 traced to like causes, you may depend that it originated in a manner 
 surprisingly similar in all regions, since the beginning of time. If it 
 only could be found out ! The Greeks considered the origin of things 
 as one of the greatest mysteries. Whatever the origin of the race may 
 have been, the best of the argument is on the side of its having taken 
 place in many foci, at far spread and different localities. This is the 
 true doctrine; the race is derived from a vast number oi foci — every 
 head of a family, grave or gay, reverend or rowdy, stands sufficiently 
 good for such a focus, and according to our views, must be respect- 
 fully regarded as more or less well established, according to his 
 success. 
 
 For not every one is successful, there being much diversity of 
 talent and capriciousness of fortune, as in other things — ^not every 
 one can organize a new clan by his individual exertions. But gene- 
 rally, however, success is remarkable, and very apt to be most certain 
 when it is sure to be attended with considerable scarcity of diet and 
 much curtailment of costume. Great Nature ! 
 
 In our great country, where talent is cherished and genius untram- 
 melled, success is unparalleled, — everywhere, by mountain and valley, 
 on every hill side, are tough little focuses of the human race, — 
 famous at arithmetic, managing a sort of geometrical proportion prac- 
 
THEBUTC HER BIRD. 63 
 
 tically, and by the shortest methods. Inextinguishable, indomitable, 
 and destined to produce such a race as the world never saw. Per- 
 sistent, without possible danger of interference, for nobody is going to 
 meddle with them soon : here are the foci of the greatest of human 
 races, — may they flourish and enlarge forever. Great country this ! 
 
 The original focus, or that of which there is earliest mention, seems 
 to have been far in the east, — there are som« there yet — ^what capital 
 focuses of the human race must be somewhere in Turkey — better 
 than John Rodgers, who had nine small children, and he ought to 
 have been canonized; or Daniel O'Connell's grandmother, who had 
 two-and-twenty, and she was a pattern of domestic virtue : wasn't she 
 a good one? Great focuses those. 
 
 The reasonable part of the argument is entirely on our side ; the 
 other is nothing more than a severe scholastic afiair, quoting autho- 
 rities and precedents, as though the human race had any sort of prac- 
 tical respect for either, when the questions herein involved are at 
 stake. \ . ' •• 
 
 Not a particle; no more respect than for practical Malthusianism. 
 
 Believe us, there are short ways of compassing philosophy. 
 
 But reverting to bachelor Adam, it is very clear that he was quite 
 denied prevoyance. About philosophy his opinions no doubt were 
 very primitive, and singularly deficient in retrospective derivation. 
 Suppose he had remained a bachelor — what a frightful idea — such 
 injustice as he would have done to his posterity. This was a lucky 
 exemption from the fatal gift, — happy ignorance of Adam, — we will 
 commence that new edition immediately. 
 
 Previous to which, however, we must ask your attention to our 
 Butcher Birds. Messieurs bachelors, how do you like that approxi- 
 mating contiguity of face which our artist has given to them ? In- 
 decorous, probably, according to your views, but true. Truthful to 
 exactness, all birds are partial to it; the most harmless Doves have 
 billed and cooed each other almost into a proverb ; the clumsiest vul- 
 tures and fiercest eagles caress their mates as gallantly if not as 
 
g4 THEBUTCHERBIRD. 
 
 gently, much in the same fashion. So the Butcher Bird reaches from 
 his perch to meet the willing lips of his plump beloved. It is to him 
 one of those luscious moments worth living for, and atones for many 
 a dreary hour of bad markets and captious customers. 
 
 But touching his natural history. 
 
 He, for the greater part, frequents Market street, though that is 
 not his roosting place, but only his daily resort, where he and his 
 mate may be seen, not on trees or arbors bearing green leaves and 
 odorous flowers, but on peculiar perches garnished and festooned with 
 more utilitarian ribs and sirloins, pork steaks and sausages, — odorous 
 enough sometimes in the heat of summer weather, but there is no- 
 thing green about him. ^ , ■ ' 
 
 His plumage is much varied, although he constantly moults twice 
 every day — at first early in the morning, for all birds are early risers, 
 he appears very rusty in feather, and often exceedingly rumpled ; 
 immediately he assumes a pure white, which is destined to disappear 
 again about the time of his evening fly, and the same rusty plumage 
 of the morning appears. 
 
 He was born somewhere in the North ; but the most curious feature 
 in his history, is the peculiar system under which his education was 
 carried out — a very remarkable system — in his human representative, 
 almost perfected into a peculiar code. 
 
 The code of the slaughter-house, somewhat prevalent of late years, 
 without the formality of conventions, — very simple in its theory, and 
 summary in execution. 
 
 It acknowledges one only standard of judgment : all disputes and 
 differences in general, especially those affecting the rights of person, 
 are to be decided by the gage and wager of fist fight; very summary : 
 trial to proceed without delay; results: perhaps nearly as justly as 
 ordinary methods of decision. 
 
 But by no means chivalric, — the days of the gage and wager of 
 battle are past, as clearly demonstrated long since ; our chivalrous 
 
^THEBUTCHERBIRD. g5 
 
 knights now-Ordajs who defend our causes, are a different class, — but 
 
 quite as honorable and to be honored. 
 
 A very remarkable code — this of the gage and wager of fist fight — 
 
 about which we have much to say; but as our allotted space has been 
 
 long since consumed, we must beg of you, patient reader, to follow 
 '"* us into another of our papers, when and where we hope to present 
 
 some striking and explanatory commentaries, if not a distinct treatise, 
 
 on this interesting phase in legal science, and improvement in the 
 
 general theory of morals. 
 ' . ■ . C. 
 
 •^ 
 
Tm 
 
 > 
 
 ^ 
 
©■AI^LIDWS BIBB, 
 
 / ifhorh. Hoseiiffm/. Ph it" 
 
THE GALLOWS BIHD, 
 
 (fuecifer avis.) 
 
 Within a prison's gloomy walls, 
 
 A felon sleeping lay; 
 Without — a motley, clamorous crew, 
 
 Were hungering for their prey; 
 E'en women with their baby brood, 
 
 Cursing the law's delay. 
 
 Solemn and slow as a funeral march. 
 
 The Jailer strode the cell ; 
 While o'er the sleeper's troubled couch 
 
 His darkening shadow fell. 
 And roused him from his stormy dreams. 
 
 Of the agonies of Hell. 
 
68 THE GALLOWS BIRD. 
 
 A glance from that hard stony eye 
 Sufficed; his hour had come; 
 
 He heard without the prison walls 
 
 The people's restless hum; 
 And their murmurs fell upon his ear, 
 Like the roll of a muffled drum. 
 
 .V 
 
 A glance — and backward memory rushed, 
 Through the portals of the past; 
 
 And hardened as the felon was, - ' 
 He shrunk back all aghast, . * 
 
 As many a long forgotten crime - ■ . ' 
 
 Came thronging thick and fast. . .- . . 
 
 Beside him stood a holy man, ' ' %. ■ . 
 
 He clung to him in fear; ^ 
 
 And so dark a tale of crime and woe, 
 • "^ . . . i- 
 
 Poured in his shrinking ear. 
 
 That the Jailer cowered and crossed himself, 
 
 As he bent him down to hear. 
 
 " It seems, ay ! but the other day, 
 When hushed my childish glee, 
 
 I sat beside the cottage hearth. 
 Upon my mother's knee; 
 
 Listening the earnest tale she told 
 Of Christ and Calvary. 
 
 "Her pale face looks upon me now, 
 
 So loving, yet so sad ; 
 She deems her child is still the same, 
 
 A gentle, simple lad ; 
 And not the wretch whom social ills 
 
 Have tortured and made mad. 
 
 •jSf&z 
 
THE GALLOWS BIRD^ g9 
 
 " The south wind plays upon my brow. 
 As it was wont at even, - 
 
 When through the sunset's dying glow, 
 I saw the path to Heaven : 
 
 Now soon, the law adjudged soul 
 
 From body shall be riven. 
 ■•■■'..• . ' ■ » 
 
 '^ Oh mother! from thy spirit home, , ''^ ' 
 
 Bend down thy loving eyes, . - ... • 
 
 And aid by thy pure earnest prayer, '^ 
 
 My sinful soul to rise 
 Where I may rest my weary head. 
 
 With thee in Paradise. .^ - - \ 
 
 '* Nay ! do not mock me, iron man ! 
 
 It has been many a year. 
 Since I, a doomed wretch, have known 
 
 The luxury of a tear : 
 Ay ! many a weary day ago, 
 
 When the leaves were in their sere. ... 
 
 " I stood beside a lowly mound, . . 
 
 I knew it well of old. 
 For there, amid my childish griefs, 
 
 The village crones had told 
 Unto the orphaned one, his all 
 
 Lay in that churchyard cold. ^ 
 
 "Guilt, murder, blood, was on my brow. 
 
 It tainted e'en the air — 
 The sleuth-hounds were upon my track, 
 
 I did not reck, or care ; 
 I only thought of the early lost. 
 
 And knelt to her in prayer. 
 
70 THE GALLOWS BIRD. 
 
 *' I passed into the village church, 
 
 And bowed my guilty head; 
 Weary and worn, I sank to sleep, 
 
 And heeded not the tread 
 Of the feet of those who had sworn an oath, 
 
 To take me, alive or dead. 
 
 '» 
 
 " I woke in horror — woke and fled ; 
 
 I braved the stormy sea; v . 
 
 I trod the slaver's Heaven-cursed deck, , ' 
 
 And my fiendish cry of glee. 
 Was loudest in that demon bark >■ . 
 
 Of crime and misery. - 
 
 " i laughed to scorn the storm-wind's wrath ; 
 
 I battled with the flood. 
 When twice three hundred slaves went down, 
 
 With my guilty brotherhood ; 
 And I, alone, survived to breathe, 
 
 An atmosphere of blood. 
 
 " It was not thus I was to die — 
 
 The blood that I had shed , * ■• ' 
 
 Called loudly for the gallows doom, ' ' 
 
 Upon my felon head ; 
 
 Oh, would to Heaven, that I had then 
 Been numbered with the dead ! 
 
 '* A stranger bark had crossed my path — 
 
 It bore for India's shore ; 
 I plunged anew into the strife 
 
 Of bloodshed and of war. 
 And the bravest cheek grew deadly pale, 
 
 As I rioted in gore. 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
THE GALLOWS BIRD. 71 
 
 " Soul-stained, Hell-doomed — my sleep was e'er 
 
 As gentle as a child ; 
 But now my guiltrseared brain was filled, 
 
 With terrors dark and wild; 
 And I sought to drown my foolish fears, 
 
 But they would not be beguiled. 
 
 "Each night, when sleep with leaden wings 
 
 My comrades did enfold, 
 Around me fell the shadows grim, 
 
 Of a dungeon dank and cold; 
 And the fetters clanked about my feet — 
 
 Then sank my spirit bold. 
 
 " There was a tree within a cell. 
 
 And from its pendent bough, 
 A rope swung heavily to and fro— 
 
 Oh God ! I see it now ; 
 And that fearful bird with the human face. 
 
 With a red band o'er its brow. 
 
 "Ay! grin and chatter, loathsome thing, 
 
 I know thy face is mine ; 
 For years thy beak was in my heart ; 
 
 And all the blood-red wine 
 I drank to banish memory, 
 
 Could not efface the crime." 
 
 One bound — one cry of agony — 
 
 Against the massive door 
 The murderer dashed his frenzied form ; 
 
 They raised him from the floor. 
 But the sinful soul had passed to rest, 
 The death-doomed ne'er spoke more. 
 
 ■^^^ 
 
72 THE GALLOWS BIRD. 
 
 Then, mother ! from thy spirit home, 
 
 Bend down thy loving eyes. 
 And aid, by thy pure earnest prayer, 
 
 His sinful soul to rise 
 Where he may rest his weary head 
 
 With thee in Paradise ! 
 
 ■ ■. ' •■• ■■ '^ W. A. S. 
 
 •% 
 
t^ colors ljrI.I/)smihdIhiL'^ 
 
 T" ^%. IT JL O K, IB I R ID, 
 
THE TAYLOR BIRD. 
 
 (PHILOMELA G0THAMEN8IS.) 
 
 Birds (we quote the very words of the illustrious Dr. Feather- 
 bottom, Honorary Member, for Philadelphia, of the Zoological Society 
 for all North America,) occupy a station in the great circle of the 
 Vertebrata between Quadrupeds and Reptiles. No class of animals 
 has engaged the attention of Naturalists to a greater extent, nor have 
 their conclusions respecting subdivision or classifying them, been 
 more various upon any other subject. According to the views of 
 Mr. Swainson, the Insessores or typical birds (see large bills), com- 
 prising all the well known Thrushes, Warblers, &c., are entitled to 
 the first position, as in this order is found the highest development 
 of the general characters of Birds, the greatest variety and beauty 
 of plumage, and an organization especially enabling them to live 
 amongst trees (on canvas). The reader can consult with great 
 advantage, upon this subject, an Elaborate Memoir in one of the 
 
74 THE TAYLOR BIRD. 
 
 Sunday newspapers — the name of which we forget — or the learned 
 treatise of Dr. Knight Northall, (" Before and Behind the Curtain,") 
 in which will be found a full and particular account of the habits 
 of the American Warbler, or Taylor Bird, which by the way, corres- 
 ponds, in the general classification, with the Nightingale of Sweden. 
 The Taylor Bird has attracted a great deal of the attention of 
 observers, as there is but one known living specimen of the class; 
 which, however, is fortunately one of the most extraordinary and 
 perfect of all the musical tribe, having attained no less than — from 
 the best information we can procure — some five feet in height, with 
 a most variable plumage, sometimes a simple black, like the common 
 raven, at others brilliant and parti-colored, and resembling the finest 
 silks of Broadway or Chestnut street. 
 
 The Taylor Bird is, in some respects, as compared with ordinary 
 birds, singularly domestic in its habits; and, if treated kindly, often 
 resorts to the houses of the neighborhood, where she happens to 
 alight, and will pour out by the hour, strains of the most bewitching 
 melody. Climate seems to afiect this bird but little, for she reaches 
 from the extreme North as far South as New Orleans, and appears 
 to be equally happy and at home in all the intermediate latitudes. 
 From the familiarity of the people of the country with the Warbler, 
 and as she is the only one of her kind, they have named her the 
 Taylor Bird, by way of endearment adopting the sweetest of all 
 known titles, "Our Mary." A great number of persons, curious in 
 birds, have endeavored to secure the Warbler to themselves, and to 
 domesticate it in a cage, for their own peculiar pleasure and con- 
 venience. But from the uniform failure of these attempts, which 
 the admirers of the songster have discountenanced, as likely to 
 abridge their own interest in this free wanderer of the air — many 
 persons have come to fancy the Taylor Bird, like the Nightingale, 
 a solitary bird, in the deep recesses of the grove (at Brougham's or 
 Barnum's) — chanting by moonlight her air, "most musical, most 
 melancholy." But this is far from being always the case ; the bird sings 
 
THE TAYLOR BIRD. 75 
 
 by daylight (in a sort of rehearsal, you might say) as she does at 
 night, and at about eleven o'clock in the morning you may hear the 
 Taylor Bird in full song, although her plumage is then, by no means, 
 as gorgeous as in the evening. The mysterious change in the plumage 
 of the Warbler occurs, generally, about twilight — when clerks are 
 quitting the down-town stores, and people in comfortable circumstances 
 are taking an early tea, preparatory to a visit to the theatre. 
 Instead of being of a solitary disposition, this charming creature 
 seems to delight in the neighborhood and company of man ; and, so 
 true is this, wherever you see a crowd, you may be sure the Taylor 
 Bird is not far off. The Taylor bird sings more or less the whole 
 year round, and never, while other birds are wandering to foreign lands, 
 deserts her native fields. Over them, however, she makes a wide and 
 joyous sweep ; her disposition to rove is by no means the least pecu- 
 liarity of the American Warbler ; and how much pleasure does she 
 give and receive by her migrations ! This singular instinct, implanted 
 in the breast of the fowls of the air, aves theatriy is indeed a very 
 touching instance of the tenderness of Nature, who not only bestows 
 what is necessary on her creatures, but adds to the cup of life so 
 many innocent pleasures. Some birds are stationary, (for instance, 
 the species known as " Heavy Women," and " General Utility"), it 
 would have been easy to have ordered that all should be so (by 
 securing them, for example, in strong golden cages); but we find 
 that the most beautiful and pleasing of the race, pass and repass 
 annually, over a broad expanse of the earth, giving and receiving 
 enjoyment as they move onward. And how much delight does 
 this Taylor Bird of ours afford mankind! Her first appearance, at 
 the opening of the season, her voice, her pleasing form, her cheerful 
 movements — ^her little exits and returns — all bring to our hearts some 
 pleasures, and thoughts, and feelings, which we should never know 
 without her. Wanderers though they be, yet the birds of one's 
 native ground are a part of home to us. Like others of her tribe, 
 
 the Taylor bird generally follows the same course year after year, 
 
 10 
 
76 THETAYLORBIRD. , 
 
 in her annual joumeyings. The facts of observation show this. She 
 will, we know, return to the same groves (chiefly in the flats) for 
 many successive seasons. She is always warmly welcomed ; and 
 it is the wish of many admirers of this beautiful creature, who 
 have for years assembled to listen to her pleasant notes, — as though 
 they came from the pure angel-world, — that many and many a 
 season yet may come and pass, ere the voice of the Taylor Bird shall 
 cease to be heard in the land ! 
 
 M 
 
■n colors 'bfl. HoscniMl Ihil'^ 
 
 MTTILIE BIEAIR 
 
THE LITTLE DEAR. 
 
 (10 URBICA.) 
 
 When the primitive forest flourished in undisturbed luxury, and 
 Aramingo and Moyamensing were yet hunting grounds, it is recorded 
 that deers were abundant whereabouts this great city of Philadelphia 
 is now located. 
 
 They gradually died out, however, with the assistance of Indian 
 arrows, and the more civilized projectiles, known as bullets, slugs, 
 buck-shot, and other metallic auxiliaries, very accelerative of cervine 
 mortality, introduced by the pale faces. 
 
 But their place was immediately taken by another description of 
 dears. Nature insists on general laws, and reproduces types of form 
 with great tenacity and faithfulness. So, now that the forest has 
 been compelled to withdraw — after being often axed to as politely as 
 practicable — and the city has taken its place — now that the morning 
 
78 THE LITTLE DEAR. 
 
 songs of the killdeers and the chee winks have been superseded by 
 the more musical and much louder cries of fishwomen and charcoal 
 sellers — ^which are evanescent too, coming like shad-oh's ! — so depart- 
 ing ; now that the city has, in all respects, generally and particularly 
 become considerably great, and will be greater when it is finished ; 
 — now that all these things have certainly happened, and various 
 others not herein mentioned, we have the d^ar just as abundant as 
 ever, and more easily caught. But not by leaden missiles — if metallic 
 at all, they must be golden : there is another improvement. 
 
 Our picture shows one of the most numerous kind, — a pretty dear 
 — a modern lo. 
 
 Precisely the same as of old, but watched by no many-eyed Argus 
 in wrathful mood — unless she has a step-mother; holding autobio- 
 graphical or other conversations with no Prometheus — unless her 
 father anchored fast with the gout may be one — ^which is not likely, 
 as the only fire he ever meddled with in his time, by universal belief, 
 came in quite another direction ! No, she is in higher esteem than 
 the more classic lo; neither we nor our English ancestors, could 
 ever have been accused of neglecting the classics, so we have always 
 carefully preserved her name. The only difference is, that our 
 aforesaid ancestral pronunciation made it Heigh-ho — from a rigid 
 scholar-like adherence, we suppose, to the Greek aspirate. Halloo, 
 or Hul-low, is however, good Greek enough for practical purposes 
 now-a-days ; at least it is much more extensively used. 
 
 With a mixed incentive of acquisitiveness and affection, our 
 present species is generally called my dear — mine — to the utter 
 exclusion of all other claimants. In the early stage of the existence 
 of which title, it has a most expressive signification, fraught with 
 meaning of great and happy endearment, but unfortunately with 
 anticipations of greater, very frequently found to be of difficult 
 perhaps of impossible realization. From which cause, my dear is 
 apt to become but an abstraction ; or like many titles, duke, baron, 
 and others, signifying nothing, or only something that has been. 
 
THE LITTLE DEAR. 79 
 
 So changeable is language. My dear, my dearest, says Mr. Two-and- 
 twenty — my dear ! — my dear ! ! Mrs. Sproutts, I say ! ! ! is the language 
 of experienced Two-and-sixty. Changed, changed, alas ! as told in 
 Don Juan, like vinegar from wine. Sweetest metheglim of early 
 love, how soon you grow sour ! 
 
 Nor have the hunters decreased. The mighty hunters of the 
 forest have vanished, with the pristine buck and doe ; but as though 
 the former hunt foreshadowed the succeeding, the chace continues 
 with unabated vigor. Not only is our dear universally in favor, 
 but all men are in pursuit of dough. Let them make whatever 
 other pretensions they may, they can do without it no better than 
 the Indian hunter, with all their greater philosophy. And worse 
 still, many of them have adopted a corresponding style of face, 
 broadly indicating its derivation — dough face — a description of phy- 
 siognomy very pliable and mouldable, and altogether convenient. 
 It is of course the modem improvement on the old-fashioned nose of 
 wax that men wore formerly. Great improvements have taken 
 place in the arts and sciences. 
 
 And dears are quite abundant — they bounded through the ancient 
 forest, they abound now through the city — all things are dear — all 
 people have dears, — dear to the exile is his native land, in memory's 
 dimish distance seen afar, (that's the way our memory is) ; dear to the 
 broker is his note of hand, collaterally secured ; the polar star is dear 
 to the mariner (something about a foggy night when he could only 
 occasionally get a glimpse of it) ; dear to the lover is his mistresses 
 eyebrow; dear to the father is his eldest born — the youngest to the 
 mother ; dear was that whistle which commanded such a high figure 
 (Col. Childs didn't publish his Price Current in those days or whistles 
 would have immediately riz) ; dear was the beef when the butchers 
 took a strike — dearer far will bread be when the bakers do the like ; 
 a dear bargain got the cannibals, when they bought Lord Whitting- 
 ton's cat ; McMakin's model paper costs a sixpence, and its very dear 
 at that. 
 
80 THE LITTLE DEAR. 
 
 Everything and everybody are dear to somebody or some other 
 body — except this book of ours. 
 
 The children are mamma's dears, the young ladies are pretty dears, 
 — and the ladies that are married are very distinctly their husbands 
 dears, and those that are not married are quite as distinctly their own 
 dears ; and all of us have found out, — or if we have not, we will find 
 out that many a thing in this world is by far too dear, and so 
 
 Oh dear ! — we are quite exhausted — that's all. 
 
 C. 
 
> 
 
 /?* '*«i^^\ "Tit 
 
 rs ]?/■ L.2ojtiiikaZ Ihil ' 
 
 JOJLILIT OJLB COCKo 
 
THE JOLLY OLD COCK. 
 
 (GALLIVETUS JUCUNDUS.) 
 
 This looks " like the cock that crow'd in the morn ;" and, if we 
 might judge from his mug, is no doubt, what he assumes to be, "a 
 Jolly Old Cock." 
 
 This is a bird of rare qualities. It is to be found in the greatest 
 perfection about Dock street, in Bender's, but occasionally appears 
 at the United States, Jones', and Congress Hall Hotels. It is 
 remarkable for its keenness of scent as to the whereabouts of "good 
 things," and daily scratching in every hill frequently succeeds in 
 picking up a airn. 
 
 Perhaps one of the finest traits in the character of the Jolly Old 
 Cock, is the solicitude he evinces in training the Young Cock to the 
 same lofty pursuits, at the expense of the said Young Cock's time, 
 money, health, and reputation. The silly young bird knows not of 
 the dangerous character of his elder companion, but rejoices greatly 
 
32 THEJOLLYOLDCOCK. 
 
 at the condescension thus evinced towards him; and on the presenta- 
 tion of the bill, is always ready to foot it, a feat the Old Cock never 
 will perform. ' .' 
 
 As the Jolly Old Cock advances in years, he enters into contracts 
 with barbers and dentists for rejuvenation, and flutters gaily down 
 the street in raven plumes and shining bill, a perfect cock of the 
 walk. He becomes the oracle of Green-rooms, and discourse th 
 learnedly of ballets and dancing girls, in which he showeth himself 
 to be a great proficient. At the hour when the beauty of the city 
 indulgeth itself in Chestnut-street rambles, the Old Cock taketh his 
 stand upon the high steps of the Hotel and croweth lustily to his 
 fellows. He hoppeth gaily hither and thither, fluttering the gay 
 bevies, exceedingly amorous, imagining he still preserveth his youth- 
 ful power of conquest, and on retiring to the sacred precincts of the 
 bar-room clucketh loudly and shaketh his pinions. The midnight 
 bringeth him a feeling of weariness and insignificance, mixed with 
 regrets, and he courteth sleep, as well to drown the recollections of 
 the past, as to gain from nature sufficient to renew on the following 
 day, his pleasing and instructive avocations. 
 
 But the Old Cock is not entirely satisfied with his exploits upon 
 shore. 
 
 ^ ' . " Sometimes he braves 
 
 The salt sea waves ;" 
 
 and then he becomes "an object of interest." Throwing off, when 
 thus on duty, the borrowed (h)air he wears on shore, he walks the 
 quarter deck in all his native majesty, reckless alike whether the 
 " winds blow high or blow low," and ready at all times to scud under 
 bare poles. What are the delights of the land lubber to him, who now 
 revels in anticipation of a glorious immortality, when the blast of 
 war sounds in his ears calling him on " to feats of broil and battle ;" 
 with the solitary "Long Tom" of his gallant bark, he would pluck 
 
 • 4- 
 
THEJOLLYOLDCOCK. 33 
 
 up "drowning honor by the roots," and scatter the news thereof 
 freely to the winds, by the aid of that " long bow " which he draws 
 so well. Have you not heard 
 
 " How, when upon Tuspanian shores he rode," 
 
 he determined with the Chicken " to go in and win ?" Behold the 
 chronicles of the department attest the fact, and the gallant chief, 
 upon his return to Terra-Firma, receives a brilliant reception at 
 public dinners at second hand; and indulges in a pleasing dream 
 of immortality, in which Fame is discovered standing upon one leg, 
 with the other elevated at an angle of 45°, sounding lustily the 
 trumpet of Balaam ! , ' 
 
 It is not every Old Cock that is game ; some can be made game of, 
 and this is sometimes done for the amusement and edification of the 
 community at large. It may be done in a variety of ways, the most 
 common one appears to be by the presentation of some valuable 
 testimonial of the public regard ; anything, from an old hat up to a 
 service of plate, for doing only what some people are simple enough 
 to suppose they are required to do, being paid for that purpose, 
 viz: their duty. There is, however, at the present day, a difference 
 of opinion upon this subject among the would-be recipients of such 
 honors; "honors, quotha!" 
 
 " Honors so great have all my toils repaid ; 
 My liege and Fusbos, here's success to trade." 
 
 Such was the observation of the great general Bombastes Furioso, 
 
 when his sovereign presented him with a pipe and a puff, for his 
 
 heroic exploits on sea and land, and cordially invited him to join 
 
 in a "pot of 'alf and 'alf" Now the general displayed his good 
 
 sense in being satisfied with this token of his liege's regard ; had he 
 
 insisted on being presented with a new chapeau, or a pair of spurs, 
 
 (very necessary for an Old Cock,) or a glittering sword, it would have 
 
 involved also the necessity of calling privately upon his friends for 
 
 11 
 
34 THEJOLLYOLDCOCK. 
 
 *^ aid and comfort." This of course they could not be prevented from 
 giving, the clause in the Constitution only providing that such " aid 
 and comfort" should not be given to a foe; but the sturdy old General 
 was aware of the fact, that honors so obtained were dearly bought, 
 by the necessary sacrifice of a portion of that self-esteem which every 
 true man should possess, nor fear to own ; and which, however much 
 they might make the ignorant wonder at and applaud, could not but 
 make the judicious grieve. 
 
 Well do we remember his observations to us on paying him a 
 friendly visit, a short time ago, at his seat in Buncombe ; while the 
 old warrior was speaking, his eye flashed with its ancient fire, and 
 his brawny arm fell like a sledge hammer upon our knees, while 
 visions of compound fractures flitted before our eyes, and well they 
 might, for in his prime he was as , • - • 
 
 " One all bone, and yet unarmed, 
 
 Who could have taken the giant world bj the neck 
 And thrown him." 
 
 " Sir," said he, "^ these baubles may be solicited and begged for by 
 the shallow, the weak and the vain, but the true heart, though he 
 may not refuse, will never seek them; the Civic crown confers no 
 honor upon the time-worn patriot, whose life has been spent in devo- 
 tion to his country : it but receives its value when he stoops his brow 
 to wear it. And he, who through the fiery front of war has hewn 
 his way, or charged with a fearless heart at the head of the forlorn 
 hope, seeking for glory or the grave, but receives the jewelled 
 weapon, to cast back upon it a ray of glory brighter than the steel 
 can ever shed on him. The proudest he that ever breathed the 
 breath of fame, may vail his glories before the sublime triumphs of 
 the Cross, and the fiery stake ; and the unasked, unbought prayers of 
 the good and noble hearts of every land, that float around the path- 
 way of a Howard, a Fry, and a Dix, are the noblest incentives to 
 man to perform the duties that may be required of him by his God 
 
THEJOLLYOLDCOCK. 85 
 
 and his Country, trusting in faith and hope to the great Future for 
 his just appreciation and reward." 
 
 Stout old heart! thou art the last and best of the Jolly Old Cocks 
 of yore ; with all thy faults and all thy blustering, which the play- 
 wright has made immortal, thou are yet superior to thy degenerate 
 descendants. Hadst thou been decreed the Civic crown, the marshal's 
 baton, or the victor's sword, thou wouldst have borne them with 
 honor to the donors and to thyself. Blower as thou art, it is but 
 the garrulity of age, and thou mayst fight thy battles o'er again, 
 since thou hast fought them well; but never could it be said of thee 
 in the heyday of thy fame, that thou didst seek to vote thyself 
 honors, or appropriate those the rightful property of another : that 
 has been reserved for the heroes of a modern day. The time will 
 doubtless come, if it has not come already, when presentation swords 
 and epaulettes, or services of plate, will be placed in the same category 
 with the honors awarded of old to Colonel Pluck; and even now 
 some of the " hard-fisted " have shown their satirical propehsity, 
 by gravely presenting to "one of the boys" a revolver, as a token of 
 their regard, for the bravery which he displayed in "takin de plug 
 and keepin' her," against all comers. 
 
 A distinguished wit in France, once offered a reward for the French- 
 man who had not been presented with the Legion of Honor. Barnum 
 may yet make a speculation out of the man who discharged the 
 duties entrusted to him with fidelity, without seeking or receiving 
 any other reward than that his ofiice gave him. 
 
 Let it not be supposed we look askant upon well-earned laurels, > 
 no matter upon whose brow they may be worn ; it is but the baser 
 coin we seek to strip of its galvanized surface; it is but the artificial 
 wreath we would hold aloft in derision. We have observed, we do 
 not " look askant," let not the ' dear public, therefore, suppose we 
 have "a Cock in our eye," although they may have when they read 
 these pages. 
 
 W. A. S. 
 
Ilth. m colors hrZAostnikoLlIkil ? 
 
 SAMIE CDILID €®(IJ)I5 
 
SAME OLD COON. 
 
 (PROCYON IMMORTALIS.) 
 
 The superficial observer of communities and nations, not unfre- 
 quently discovers standards by which to estimate their true character, 
 apart from those .ordinarily adopted by more philosophic and enlight- 
 ened investigators. It is not a little curious to trace the course of 
 such explorations. It is equally amusing to discover the basis upon 
 which oftentimes the sagest deductions are announced, as the result 
 of, in fact, the most trivial premises. The difficulty lies, not so much 
 in establishing what are the sources from which such opinions should 
 be formed, authoritatively announced, and received as worthy of full 
 faith and credit; but rather, in classifying the various causes, which are 
 likely to produce like effects, upon those engaged in the science of 
 daguerreotyping particular views, to constitute an historical panorama 
 of national character, condition and peculiarity. Napoleon is said to 
 have described the English, as a nation of shopkeepers. The French 
 have, in turn, been styled, a dancing, frog-eating people. The Ger- 
 mans have suffered under criticism as a smoking, and sour-crout 
 
88 
 
 SAME OLD COON. 
 
 consuming constituency. Italians, maccaroni and lazaronie, have 
 almost become synonymous ; while we Yankees have been scandalized 
 as wooden hams, and nutmegs, and clock makers. These are unques- 
 tionably caricatures so admitted to be, but yet they have acquired 
 an almost universality of recognition — so singularly attractive are 
 national peculiarities. The national airs of a people denote, for 
 example, and properly, their patriotism, or rather the peculiar char- 
 acter of their patriotism; their poetry not imperfectly discovers their 
 sentimentality ; their dramatic creations evince their tastes. Voltaire 
 and Rousseau, Shakspeare and Milton, Calderon and Cervantes, 
 have created or cultivated the respective national tastes of their 
 countrymen. The force of a language rests as much on its struc- 
 ture, as materials — idioms often attest its constructibility and its 
 power — the oratory of Brutus and Cicero, Fenelon and Vergniaud, 
 Pitt and Grattan, are alike familiar examples; yet there is much 
 strength of expression, incident to axioms or phrases, in the language 
 of either, of which they were strangers. 
 
 We need hardly assert as a further truism, that the great men of 
 a country are almost always made by severe exigencies, operating 
 upon the masses. Few are born great. Whatever elements of power 
 of mind or will are natural, lequire occasion or circumstances to 
 develope or display. The rarest jewels are disemboweled by natural 
 causes operating in a extraordinary condition of elementary organiza- 
 tion. So of mind, as of matter. History too well illustrates that 
 there is no royal road to greatness. It is not unfrequent that indivi- 
 duals are selected as specimens of a community; men, of a state 
 or nation. The distinguished men of a country are referred to, 
 indicating what class of mind such nation can produce; what 
 description of men a nation respects, applauds, and rewards. 
 
 The remarks we have thus made, are true as applied to all men. 
 All civilized countries. But the Americans have a pecuharity of diction, 
 as well in language, as in poetry and idiom and phrase, unlike the 
 rest of mankind. What has been already remarked applies, as well 
 
SAME OLD COON. 89 
 
 to the Yankee nation as to any other ; but Brother Jonathan is in 
 advance, in many particulars, of all the world. We propose to illus- 
 trate this assertion, by taking the pecuharity of American phrases 
 as an example. The superficial observer, of whom we have already 
 spoken, would no doubt infer, from hearing the singular construction 
 of phrases, native in various parts of the United States, that the 
 English language had been most outrageously corrupted in America ; 
 and that pure Anglo-Saxon was unknown, or that a tongue was 
 spoken in the Union, which was sui generis. To hear, " Go ahead !" 
 ^'Well, I reckon," "Some few," "One of 'em," "'Aint Isome?" "Take 
 a smile," " Great country," " Thousand of brick," " Got the spoons," 
 "On a bust," "Laying low," "Let her went," " Old boss," " Immortal 
 tile," "Can't come it," "0. K.," "Show your pile," "Go it blind,'' 
 "Come down," "Take my hat," "Let's nip all round," "Stand up to 
 the rack, fodder or no fodder," " Face the music," " Down with the dust ;" 
 and the thousand quaint expressions which have a meaning only by a 
 conventionality, would lead this observer to conclude, that a language 
 thus interpolated, was a new, or unknown tongue. While thus lost in 
 wonder at the construction of language, should he be informed, that 
 " Old Hickery " couldn't be beat, that " Old Tip " was dead, that " Black 
 Dan " was on the track, that " Old Bullion was knocked into spots," 
 that " Old Hasty-Plate was some, he was," that " Old San Jacinto was 
 as tough as if he was cut out of the solid," and " That Same Old Coon 
 was sitting on a rail," this same observer would admit, that, in language 
 at least, the Americans had a peculiarity of expression, the like of 
 which was no where to be met with. 
 
 The sketch of that "Same Old Coon," has been suggestive of 
 these reflections. Their applicability needs no further elucidation, 
 we think ; but if the reader does not agree with us, and wishes further 
 information as to how what we have written has to do with what is 
 written about, we beg to refer him to the last edition of any book of 
 Travels in the United States. If one such is not at hand, let him 
 take up Vol. V., No. 8., of the " United States and Universal Yankee 
 
90 SAME OLD COON. 
 
 Nation, Brother Jonathan," title "Foreign Literati," and he will 
 discover that our extracts have been very voluminous from that highly 
 prized periodical. We beg to repeat, that the sketch of the " Same 
 Old Coon " has been the immediate cause of the foregoing philosophic 
 disquisition ; but justice to our artist requires, that we should say a 
 word about this same Coon. The Racoon — or Coon, as it is com- 
 monly called — is a quadruped, and has a ' tail,' which sticks out 
 "a feet," it uses its tail to great advantage, as when it has nothing 
 to stand on, it hangs by its tail — which was the origin of the remark, 
 ' thereby hangs a tail.' For a ^ politician ' this is a great advantage ; 
 as they often are reduced to the 'extremity' of the tail, having 
 nothing left to stand on ; especially when de-feeted, as they often are. 
 That Same Old Coon has been thus situated and circumstanced 
 — when the tail has been of the most decided benefit. 
 
 When " Old Ebony and Lopez," and " Old Hickory" were on a 
 hunt, they found ,. 
 
 ' That Same Old Coon a sitting on a rail.' 
 
 He came down and hung on to the "Hickory" by the tail, for a great 
 while ; then he let go, and mounted a Great Bank, where he " lay sleep- 
 ing wery sound " — then he started to run for President, and got most 
 as far as Washington City, when a duty he owed * home industry,' or 
 rather, a domestic duty, or home labor, so exhausted his powers, that 
 his labor to get into the White House was " love's labor lost " — so 
 they say, we don't know how it was. This home industry idea was 
 a good one. The family grew at an astounding rate. Coons were found 
 everywhere, but it is singular they had no hair on *the place where 
 the hair ought to grow.' This was a sad misfortune, so that all got 
 w(h)igs. Then a great gathering of the coons took place, and that 
 same coon was tJiar, and a jolly good time they had. A general spree 
 was started to begin with — a hard cider campaign they called it. 
 They all drank hard cider, in a great log cabin, with the string on 
 
/ 
 
 SAME OLD COON. 91 
 
 the outside of the door. They sung songs; among the most exciting 
 of which was "All 'round my hat;" "That Same Old Coon." 
 And what with their w(h)igs, their songs, their cider, the way they 
 protected their own labor, and the domestic manufactures they got 
 up, and the cotton they put through the gin, and the coal they mined, 
 and the iron they blasted, and the bricks put in their hats, was a 
 phenomenon to uninitiated natives. After a while all was quiet 
 again — ^you never heard any of 'em, till about the 14th of April, 
 when they met about in spots, to celebrate the birth-day of that 
 " Same Old Coon." He was born, he was, and to keep his memory 
 green, these coons, 
 
 That all came out on a shiny night 
 
 To dance in the light of the moon ; 
 And they danced and they drank with all their might 
 
 In honor of that Same Old Coon — 
 
 And they didn't go home till morning; and when they did get home 
 they said they had been to a birth-night Ball — they liked this sort of 
 sport, for they have kept that " ball a rolling on" every year since. — 
 So matters went on, or rather, in the quaint vernacular of the day, 
 they " succeeded with the programe." One day it was spread abroad 
 that a fuss was abrewing — the coons had fixed things so, that a con- 
 test began between an old fellow named Home Industry, and a chap 
 called Foreign Importations. The first used some offensive language 
 to the other; he said he was pauper labor, and accused him of ruining 
 the latter, and taxed him with a tariff. This last word was very 
 high, it was No. 42 — very high indeed — [we can't understand how 
 that is, either, for No. 46 is said to be low : but that's no matter, we 
 can't explain as we go along, or we would get into a snarl with 
 somebody, and we are decidedly opposed to any such desire or impu- 
 tation]. Well, now, high words bring on a fuss, or a muss, or a breeze 
 or a row generally, and so it was on this particular occasion. One of 
 
 12 
 
92 SAMEOLDCOON. 
 
 the Big Bugs, they called " Old Nullification," mixed into the crowd, 
 and a great row was going on. Old Hickory was about, and that Same 
 Coon was in the ring. The Old Coon, he " compromised " the matter 
 and saved Old Hickory the trouble of reading 'em the " 2d Section." 
 All was peace again. Honor to the patriotism, to the love of 
 country, to the forbearance, to the noble independence, to the 
 devotion to the cause of Civil Liberty of that " Same Old Coon." 
 
 Immediately succeeding this almost intestine convulsion — ^in which 
 the integrity of the federal compact was thought to be in peril, and 
 the loyalty of a member of the Union was much commented upon, 
 if not doubted — all 
 
 " Went merry as a marriage bell." 
 
 But there is no stagnation in the public affairs of the Yankee 
 Nation. No rest, no quiet, no calm after the storm — no settling 
 down — there is a natural pre-disposition for an excitement. 
 
 The coons, like everybody else, partake of this general epidemic. 
 They got up another gathering — a great council held at Philadelphia. 
 "That Same Coon" was about. But there was an "Old Sodger"' 
 came into the camp. Great was the excitement. This old " Regular" 
 came in, riding on Old Whitey, and seeing that Same Coon laying 
 back on a gum-log, he took the tactics from the enemy and lassoed 
 him right on sight, and " swung him on the ground." Such was the 
 consternation, that the assembly broke up — and the "Old Soger" 
 took the trick, and all the honors. 
 
 Then followed a politico-quadrennial-civil quiescence — a cloudless 
 firmament, a bright future cheered the Yankee heart — when suddenly 
 a great big black woolly-headed "Slave Bill" run away from his 
 fellow " Dandy Jim of Caroline " — and oh, how Susannah did cry — 
 all the while they kept telling her " don't you cry." It was a great 
 cry and some wool. 
 
 " The noise and confusion" waked up the " same old Coon." He 
 made tracks for the locality where the "extremes met;" as soon as 
 
SAMEOLDCOON. 93 
 
 possible, he gathered a union of the friends of the Union, talked over 
 the matters and things, and they all got into an " omnibus," and told 
 the driver to go to Harmony, by the way of the " old settlement" 
 called " compromise." They rode part of the distance, then got out 
 and proceeded on " Foote " single file, and arrived there at last after 
 a very long journey, all safe. The only danger they met with was 
 from a person named " Secession," who it is reported is the legitimate 
 successor of " Old Nullification." 
 
 From that day to the present, nothing particular has occurred to 
 excite apprehension for the future. Peace smiles upon a happy land ; 
 and the Union, strong in the afiections of a free people,; has discovered 
 its strength out of its supposed weakness. 
 
 The experience of the past has taught lessons of wisdom, and the 
 inate patriotism of the people has hushed in death, without a resurrec- 
 tion, the thought of treason. In after time, when the Naturalist shall 
 seek for specimens of the great productions of this age. History and 
 Justice will point, among others, to "That same Old Coon." 
 
v 
 
/jUJi in f.olors iy RoseiuAaldcH'rmmtrniiL 
 
 m r.M M J[M (B iB ;r]mi(&. 
 
» ■*■ 
 
 "THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD." 
 
 (trochilus POLITICUS.) ' ' 
 
 The devotion of all nations, in all ages of the world, to tutelar 
 divinities and patron saints, is a remarkable characteristic of the 
 intuition of religious inspiration. The prosperity and destiny of 
 communities and empires were, at an early period of history, thought 
 to depend upon their guardianship and presence. Not only has 
 mankind been deified, and exalted to superior excellence, and even 
 veneration, but most every creature of the animal kingdom has also 
 been enshrined in heathen sanctity. The sole difference in the 
 degree of their exaltation, appears to have been in the greater 
 universality, the greater nationality, of the worship and reverence 
 paid to the higher and nobler attributes of god-like man. The 
 religious regard for the lower animals was local, and less intense. 
 Feelings of sacred respect, rather than sentiments of divine worship, 
 were called up at the shrine of these inferior deities. Cities and 
 
96 THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 
 
 towns were guarded and protected by beasts and birds ; worlds and 
 empires by men alone. In a primitive age, the untutored mind and 
 unsophisticated reason, lost in the sublimity of primordial poetry, 
 and bewildred by the mysticism of tradition, always tended to lend 
 a fabulous and superstitious character to objects of their admiration, 
 wonder or worship. 
 
 Birds had no small claim upon their affections, and were more 
 ^ • particularly of the secondary class of divinities. Though the Phoenix 
 
 of the Egyptians — the Roc of the Arabian romancers — and the Eagle 
 of the Romans, far from being local, were renowned and revered 
 throughout the known world. All of these objects of worship, human 
 or brute, universal or local, had an intimate connection with the 
 hopes and fears, the joys and sorrows, the religion and poetry of 
 every nation of antiquity. The mystic power of religious superstition, 
 mingled with the rich imagery of Oriental poetry, has lent a charm 
 to these creatures of the imagination, that even the illumined intel- 
 lectuality and the prosaical gravity of modern times has failed to 
 eradicate. Whatever is noble and good in them warms the heart, 
 whatever is rich and gorgeous dazzles the mind, and whatever is 
 grand and terrific awes the soul, no less in an age of truth and reason 
 than in an age of fable and fiction. Nor were nations and cities 
 alone objects of care and solicitude ; but villages, hamlets, and cottages 
 were sheltered under the spread wings of the tutelar bird. Every 
 grove and every wood, every nook and every home became an object 
 of regard, as it became the haunt and retreat of the favorite deity. 
 , These mythic influences have not yet died away. They still dwell 
 among us, mellowing our pleasures and lightening our sorrows, like 
 the twilight of the dark past, lingering on the horizon of the glorious 
 present. But the power with which these fantasies still enchain us 
 is not so much due to our superstition, as to our love for the marvellous 
 and our reverence for the past. 
 
 The above exordium to our history of this notable bird may be 
 thought by most of our readers to be out of place. They may be 
 
THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. ' 97 
 
 surprised that a character so well known, should be spoken of in con- 
 nection with what is unreal and fabulous. They may also think that 
 we are transcending our rights and duties as legitimate Ornithologists 
 in devoting our labor, and wearying their patience, in a long investi- 
 gation and description of an inanity. As we propose, however, to 
 enter upon a philosophical inquiry into the origin and history of this 
 bird, we hope no apology is necessary, believing our motives dis- 
 coverable from what we shall say regarding it. JE 
 
 The " Florence Humming Bird," is by many supposed to be the 
 trusty custodian of our pleasures. Very true, it dwells among us, an 
 object of esteem and love. Very true it is, too, that none of its 
 actions are associated with majesty or sublimity, nor with war or pesti- 
 lence. Yet it is J with peace and contentment, charity and justice, 
 and all the moral excellencies of an age of progress and refinement. 
 It does not defy the voracity of the devouring flames, and miracu- 
 lously resucitate. Neither does it perch aloft on the battle-standard 
 midst blood and carnage, but sits gently on the humble "olive 
 branch of peace." 
 
 The spirit of the world, and incentives to human actions, are 
 changing. Ambition seeks not eminence in tyranny and conquest, 
 but in the quiet walks of mercy and benevolence. Fancy, too, is 
 changing. It no longer broods over darkness, creates 
 
 " Hydras, gorgons, and chimeras dire," 
 
 and mystifies the better sense of the human family. With the same 
 poetry, and the same noble aim, it pleases and frightens, by the 
 sweetness or terror of its creations, measured by the sense, and 
 adapted to the intelligence of the age. So it is with the pleasing 
 phantasms of our bird's eventful story. Quiet pleasure, like the 
 incubation of the halcyon, attends its welcome visits, and simple 
 retreats. Moral effects result from moral causes. Eeason and imagi- 
 nation have emerged from a halo of heathen glory, and dwell on the 
 altar of Christian morality. 
 
98 THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 
 
 The few ephemeral antiquarians and wiseacres of the present day 
 have twisted and corkscrewed from their minds singular notions and 
 vagaries in regard to the origin and pedigree of this bird. Ever bound 
 and ever ready to combat their erroneous opinions, we enter upon 
 the task with no ordinary feelings of gratification. In the midst of 
 his socialistic enjoyment, and his unbounded popularity, our bird has 
 become so effectually incorporated with the minds and actions of our 
 citizens, that he has quite lost his individuality. We do not wonder, 
 then, that so little is known of his personal history, and that there is 
 no inquisitive desire among the mass of the community to know 
 it more particularly. Nor do we w^onder that there are those, 
 whose affection for antiquity, so far exceeds their love of utility, 
 as to lead their philosophic minds to an investigation of obsolete and 
 antiquated objects, invaluable in themselves. The great discoverer 
 of the System of Tittlebats could not have displayed more assiduity 
 and profound inquiry. As is generally the case, the fruit of their 
 immense labor and application, has proved to be a net-work of fiction. 
 We shall occupy the attention of our readers by presenting them with 
 some of their surmises, and by showing their futility. They would 
 wrap this bird in mystery, were it not ever present and appreciable. 
 Even now they proclaim it an anomaly in Ornithological annals. 
 Pretending to know what is above their comprehension, each grasps 
 at a favorable illusion, and clings to it with a tenacity worthier of a 
 better cause. Each having had his own favorite theory will adopt 
 none other. They could never agree, nor never will. They have 
 quarrelled and wrangled about the time of its creation. Is it ante- 
 diluvian or post-diluvian ? Is it of remote or recent existence ? Of 
 course, they all agree as to its antiquity, and produce innumerable 
 proofs to establish their position. 
 
 The great Slocum Buffum, the inventor of the beautiful theory 
 of the Hystrykes, verifies, fortifies, and corroborates his hypothesis, 
 by a resort to his deep and profound knowledge of the classic writers. 
 He believes Horace to have been inspired with a spirit of proj)hecy. 
 
THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 99 
 
 when he wrote that far-famed passage, — " Kara avis, in terris incog- 
 nita." From the peculiarity of the Humming Bird to the American 
 forest, and from the fact of America being an unknown and undis- 
 covered country, he argues that the existence of this rare bird, with 
 its rare merits and qualities, was predicted by that rare genius and 
 poet. Others again in their pride of intellect have advanced plausible 
 theories, placing this bird in a similar category with the Phoenix. 
 Like that fabulous bird, it is single and bachelor. It appears never to 
 have had a mate, but, existing solitarily and alone, then, now, and 
 hence enjoying an immortality of life and fame. Though not an 
 object of worship or reverence, they maintain that the influence of 
 Christianity, and moral and mental refinement of the times, have 
 only prevented it. They argue that the love and respect for it is but 
 another form of worship suitable to the spirit of the age. 
 
 Another remarkable circumstance confirmatory of their theory is 
 its constant habit of hovering around " fires," and its devotion to the 
 extinguishers of the devouring element. And then, its habits of 
 perseverance, of energy, and great pertinacity of resolution, rising 
 always " Phoenix-like from its ashes," please their vanity and flatter 
 their pride. Now, however plausible their positions may be, they are 
 neither solid nor true. We happen to know a little about this bird, 
 through long observation and acquaintance. We have no speculative 
 hypothesis, by which to torment our readers. We also happen to 
 remember that every one. Naturalist or Antiquarian, or neither, can 
 familiarize himself with its biography by a little observation. We 
 can see none of those mysteries that have lost those subtle geniuses 
 in a labyrinth of moon-struck speculations, and decoyed them into a 
 snare of fine-spun metaphysics. Who, among us, except these pseudo- 
 philosophers, will not tell you that this bird, apparently peculiar 
 and isolated, is but a species of the great genus " Omitho Vox-populi," 
 which that eminent and eloquent Ornithologist, Naturalist, and 
 Cosmogonist, the great Estaphanus, has so exquisitely drawn, and so 
 lucidly described to the astonished and astonishing multitude. Who 
 
 13 
 
XOO THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 
 
 is there that does not ridicule these notions? And who is there that 
 wouldn't ? Indeed, so intimately is it associated with all of us, that 
 to give the niinutia3 of detail, the how, the why, and the wherefore 
 of this bird, would neither enlighten the reader, or repay the writer 
 for the trouble. As to the possibility or even probability of confuting 
 or convincing those black-letter, ornithological heretics, it were as 
 easy as to convert a millstone into a miller. Not desiring to satisfy 
 them, and our readers having no occasion to be satisfied, we will let 
 the object of our history speak for itself as it has always spoken. We 
 shall rest content with having been the exponent of popular opinion, 
 so strong a refutation of those erratic and heretic investigators. 
 
 The habits o'f this bird are equally well-known with its history. 
 They are, at once, uniform and multiform. It has been found in 
 business habits, military habits, masonic habits, and divers other 
 habits. What may seem a paradox, it has been seen in black habits, 
 though its character is good ; for no one has yet questioned its gentle- 
 manly bearing, and high-toned morality. Its habits are neither 
 regular or irregular. In fact, like the bird itself, they are peculiarly 
 " Florence." They are of the ordinary style with him, and of the 
 extraordinary with others. 
 
 Its disposition is of the best kind. It is cheerful, vivacious, gay, 
 sociable, and benevolent. The "sweet little courtesies of life" are 
 personified in its nature. Wherever it may be perched, or wherever 
 it may fly, that Platonic smile, and that familiar nod, tells of its 
 presence. It has been universally remarked, even by the least 
 inquisitive observers, that this bird's favorite delicacy is a " bough." 
 The lovers of rural enjoyment, too, have often, with emotions of 
 rustic delight, watched, by the hour, this little bird flitting jocundly 
 and happily, humming an amorous strain, from flower to flower, in 
 the exuberant " Chesterfields," now burying deep its bill in the heart 
 of the "polite pink," and now concealed within the bosom of the 
 "chaste lily." 
 
 Another delectably fond retreat of this bird is the " stump." Who 
 
THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. IQl 
 
 has not experienced lively feelings of pleasure, commingled with sad- 
 ness, at the sight and continued observation of the truncated vestige 
 of some lofty tree, proud, perhaps, in its day, but now sunk in deep 
 humiliation? Have you never heard the sad and anon cheerful 
 notes of some little bird on the remains of a decayed oak, mourning 
 the loss of departed worth, and consoling and cherishing the tender 
 shoots in their infancy and orphanage ? Who knows ? It may have 
 been our pretty little "sympathy," a fit synonym for such a bird. 
 Its compassion is with the living and the dead. Its pity is with the 
 conqueror and the conquered. The stump of all other stumps for it 
 is the " hickory stump," a curious inoculation of the cypress and the 
 laurel. It often sings there the Paeans of victory ; and if it mourns 
 defeat, still it rejoices at the promising hopes of the future. Many a 
 pleasant moment have we experienced in watching, with eager and 
 glistening eye, its innocent love-pranks, while perched high on the 
 myrtle bough, wooing with its sweet hum the " gay, sparkling loories," 
 votaries of Venus, borne to her arboriferous shrine on the bosom of 
 gentle zephyrs. Often have we laid our hand gently upon our throb- 
 bing heart, and with uplifted eyes to the blue empyrean, unconsciously 
 exclaimed, in the gentleness of our spirit, " What a sweet little fellow, 
 it is, indeed !" 
 
 Its nest, like every thing connected with it, is peculiar, and a little 
 curious. We have seen the hanging nests of the "Oriole," and have 
 thought them very odd. But the ingenuity of our bird exceeds in 
 novelty and taste all other manifestations of inventive genius ever 
 on record. 
 
 What is peculiar to the "humming bird" is its disposition of its 
 home, and the strange tendencies of his highly developed organ of 
 inhabitiveness. Unlike other ornithological specimens, it never 
 sleeps at home, that is in its nest; but if it goes out to enjoy the 
 warmth of the sun and the freshness of the fields, it always takes its 
 nest along. The configuration and texture of which, is "wery 
 pecooliar." It is of a hat-like shape, and made of the finest silk. 
 
102 THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 
 
 Nothing can be more humorous and mirth-provoking than to see 
 this 'sweet bird, gamboling with its wonted hilarity, and bearing 
 aloft, crest-like, on its organ of individuality, its sjnnmetrically beau- 
 tiful residence, so serenely and fraternally supported by its long, elegant, 
 and endearing bill, So remarkably popular has this hat-like home 
 become, from its exquisite jauntiness, and winningly polished grace- 
 fulness, that the whole community at large, with accord and concord, 
 have bestowed upon it the euphonious and altisonant cognomen of 
 the " Florence Hat." But this is not all. Our warm-hearted and 
 admiring citizens are not satisfied with empty laudations. To show 
 their high appreciation of its character, merits, peculiarities, and 
 eccentricities, they have with great unanimity adopted a practice of 
 wearing Florence hats on their heads, too. 
 
 This circumstance is an eureka to an idiomatic enigma that has dis- 
 gusted the uninitiated foreigner with the supposed excessive simplicity 
 of our language. We ourselves have often wondered why it was, and 
 why it is, that in the placidity of good spirits and moderate mirth, 
 while taking a connoisseur-glance at the sports and deviltries of some 
 merry wight, we should, with incontinent rapture, exclaim : " He's a 
 a bird, he is !" thus tending ultimately to convey our unmistakable 
 impression of that individual being one of the ornithological tribe. 
 
 Another peculiarity of this bird is worthy of a passing notice. It 
 is a well ascertained fact, that all animals of the canine, feline, lupine, 
 and porcine subdivisions of natural history, have hairy, whisker-like 
 appendages, adorning their nasal protuberances, tending, in a greater 
 or less degree, much to their ferocious appearance. We have seldom 
 seen birds with these ornaments, except, perhaps, a little top-knot, 
 adding much to their coxcombical attire. Our bird has been excepted 
 from the general rule. It sports, with cavalier dignity, a luxurious 
 exuberance of hirsute functionaries. We are as proud of them as it 
 is, or as you are, dear reader. 
 
 It is neither dormant nor migratory. It has, indeed, acquired a 
 " local name and habitation." It never hibernates, but dwells among 
 
THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 1Q3 
 
 US through summer and winter. However, there appear to have been 
 of late, strong indications of a restless spirit, tending from its symp- 
 toms to emigration. For these last six annual cycles, it has made 
 divers flutterings and flappings of its wings, and fruitless attempts to 
 fly, but until now, in vain. Gifted with a vast deal of perseverance, 
 it has at last, conquered its inability. It will remain with us during 
 this summer; but during next December and the winter months 
 following, it will hibernate on the Banks of the Potomac, and 
 delight the neighborhood with its melodious hum. Unlike migra- 
 tory birds, it does not leave us for its own good ; but for our good. 
 It goes away to hum the music of peace, and sing the lullaby of 
 agitation in the great choral grove of the nation. 
 
 It has been said, " Birds of a feather flock together." This bird 
 having no " fellow of a feather," is never isolated from company, but 
 is peculiarly sociable, and is ever welcome in all social circles. 
 "Alone, but never lonely," is the burden of its remarkable hum. 
 
 Though we have spoken of its song, our bird is not one of those 
 
 " Little birds 
 That warble on the flowery thorn." 
 
 Perhaps, then, we have gone too far, for it has no voice, but a kind 
 of a hum, produced by his rapid motions, yet attuned to music by the 
 graceful curvatures of its perigrinatory movements. The hum very 
 nearly resembles the " hum of industry," of which we have heard so 
 much. 
 
 As a whole we admire this bird, as does every one. "We love to 
 see it flitting about, like a moth in a sunbeam, now here, now there, 
 upon gossamer wings, dallying with the coquettish honey-suckle; 
 anon, poised lightly and buoyantly upon the balmy air, and then, 
 with lightning speed, dart out of sight, into the warm embraces of 
 the inviting violet. 
 
 How long this bird will live, what will become of it when it dies, 
 we will not pretend to say. Our hopes are, that if it do not inherit 
 
104 THE FLORENCE HUMMING BIRD. 
 
 immortality, that its shadow at least may never grow less. It is yet 
 in the inception of its fame and name. Its embryonic name will, in 
 time, mature to a greater and riper prestige. Under its sOft and 
 downy pinions, while skimming on the buxom air, are reposed 
 "love, honor, obedience, and troops of friends," circUng around it 
 in the expected hey-day of its triumphs and glories. 
 
 • .-v .••'•, • V-'* C. F. E. 
 
V 
 
 
 
THE MACKAREL 
 
 (odhIiqua amatorpiscorum.) 
 
 The land of the Gael, is famous for its psalming, as the records of 
 those queer fish the Covenanters, attest; it is also famous for its Tay, 
 we mean the River Tay, so prolific in Salmon, and not the tay-tay 
 or cofiee-tay we occasionally hear of; and which we have been led to 
 believe is but another name for their mountain dew, as we presume it 
 is in their sister island; having high authority for such supposition, 
 in the celebrated Irish song of the Schoolmaster. 
 
 " What does your mother pour out of her tay-pot when she gives 
 you cofiee for dinner?" 
 
 " Whiskey, Sir !" replies the gentle Tim Doolan. 
 
 " Go up head," says Mr. O'Rafferty, " there's knowledge for you !" 
 
 The land of St. Patrick is celebrated for its freedom from snakes, 
 and its plentiful supply of whiskey. We cannot believe altogether in 
 this blarney of the Saint having banished all the toads and sarpints 
 from the Green Isle. It may be so, however, for we have not tra- 
 
2QQ THE MACKAREL. 
 
 veiled much, and certainly have had but little to do with water, 
 which we imagine would be necessary if we wished to have a personal 
 inspection of the land of bogs: but our doubt arises from the fact, 
 that in our limited experience, we have observed many instances in 
 which a too plentiful application to the principal staple of Ireland, 
 viz., whiskey, by individuals of our acquaintance, has been the means 
 of giving them an enlarged and extensive view of snakes of all sorts 
 and sizes, from the Boa Constrictor down to "the Worm of the 
 Still." 
 
 Officially, we are not acquainted with any of its piscatorial produc- 
 tions. Our artist has favored us with a well executed drawing of one 
 of them, an odd fish, called a Mackarel, remarkable for its emigrating 
 propensities, and for its extravagant attachment to its own waters, — 
 at a distance ; they abound in the large cities of this country, and are 
 to be seen at the greatest advantage on the 17th of March of every 
 year. 
 
 Fresh Mackarel are considered by some persons, as more desirable 
 than salted; our experience is decidedly in favor of the latter: we 
 cannot say the same of the Mac-Karel's we have fallen in with in our 
 transit through this world ; for as indifferent as they are when they 
 first appear here fresh, they are infinitely worse when they are 
 corned. Such is the opinion of the most eminent judges with whom 
 we have interchanged our thoughts upon the subject, and they surely 
 ought to know, as in large cities they are frequently brought in con- 
 tact with them. We have never seen any of the Mackarel " over 
 the bay," (Bantry Bay, we presume, is meant by this saying,) but 
 we have seen many of the Mac-Karel's " half-seas over," although we 
 have never crossed the Atlantic. We believe the Macs are some- 
 what famous for being often in that position, and this may partly 
 account for their propensity to seize on every thing they can lay 
 their fins upon, on their landing on this hospitable shore. Those 
 who are " native, and to the manor born," object to this, as many of 
 our readers are aware, and hold public meetings ; by way of a paradox, 
 
^ 
 
 THE MACKAREL. 107 
 
 invoking the aid and power of one kind of masses, to neutralize what 
 they consider this evil tendency to corrupt republican institutions, 
 by the influence of the other. 
 
 The Mac-Karel is fond of his pipe, we do not know if he invariably 
 carries it in his hat, as our artist seems to think ; it may be done by 
 way of a balance-pole in the Old Country, and answer the purpose. 
 Here we observe they frequently carry " a brick in their hat," and as 
 a natural consequence, very frequently lose their balance, which is 
 rather singular, as the records of a recent election case, show they 
 know very well what to do with the polls ; talking of polls, brings us 
 back to one of the heads of our tale, viz., the pipe in the hat. Now 
 we have observed when a number of the Macs are engaged together, 
 they frequently pass the pipe to one another : whether it is done like 
 the Indian, as a pipe of peace, we know not, we only know it is more 
 frequently but a piece of a pipe. It is very true we have heard in 
 our younger political days, a great deal about pipe-laying, (query, has 
 the pipe clay to which Lever, the Irish novelist, so often alludes, any 
 reference to the urgent appeals to the Macs to support Clay ? — see 
 fifty reasons why Henry Clay should be elected President, published 
 in 1844, and written by Mr. O'Doodle, the great Irish orator, from 
 Ballinapoor,) but a man must be a looney to think the Macs would 
 ever lay down their pipe at the bidding of any Saxon ; they are 
 always ready to " lay down the shovel and the hoe," as well as the 
 law or politics; indeed it is not too much to say they are too willing. 
 Perhaps one reason why he is so ready to lay down the law at every 
 opportunity, is that they are so often found in the neighborhood of a 
 bar ; and as to politics, it being rather hazardous to indulge very 
 largely, in its captivating pursuit, in the troubled waters at home, on 
 their arrival here, with that disposition of man to indulge in forbidden 
 fruit, your Mac takes to that congenial element, as naturally as 'a 
 duck to the water, and though not with the same gravity, yet great 
 is the quacking thereof ! The result is soon seen; in three months 
 his comprehensive mind can expctund the constitution equally well 
 
108 THE MACKAREL. 
 
 with Webster; and he is, *^ av coorse," well fitted to fill that important 
 post for which they all eagerly strive, and which is so universally 
 despised in their own country — to wit, the policeman, or, Hibemice, 
 the Peeler; if not gratified with that particular office, they offer up 
 themselves on the altar of the Custom House, for the same reason, 
 perhaps, that the revenue officer at home is equally despised and 
 hated. 
 
 At a recent meeting of the Hibernian Society, there was a toast 
 given, " The Irishman's table, that has always a corner while there's 
 a guest in the house." "^ 
 
 We have no reason to doubt this, from our own knowledge, as well 
 as from that of others. We respond heartily to the sentiment; and in 
 the true spirit of reciprocity, beg leave to state, that from our boyish 
 days until now, and we trust it will ever be so in all the coming 
 years, the darkest shade of gloom that ever spread itself over our 
 melancholy visage, has been dispelled by the welcome sight of a 
 Mackarel at the breakfast table. 
 
 W. A. S. 
 
 *3f 
 
 4 
 
. % 
 
 i 
 
 
 ft 
 
 
 m 
 ^ 
 
ff. 
 
 ONE OF THE EATS. 
 
 (rattus moyamensing-sis.) 
 
 Within the past few years, a species of amusement has become 
 quite popular in the sea-board cities, for which, with many other 
 benefits, we are indebted to Merry England. The public may have 
 noticed in the papers numerous advertisements, such as, " Wanted, 
 Five Hundred Rats, for which twelve and a half cents each will be 
 paid. Apply to John Nobs, sign of the Chicken. A Rat Match will 
 take place," etc. etc. For the moderate sum of fifty cents, any 
 tender-hearted individual may there enjoy the amusing spectacle of 
 what is technically termed, " A Ratting." 
 
 From the extraordinary quantity of Terrier Dogs to be seen daily 
 in the public streets, following the numerous gentlemen of leisure, it 
 is to be presumed that among the habitues of the most aristocratic 
 of these Rat-holes, are to be found many of our most refined and 
 
IIQ ONE OF THE RATS. 
 
 wealthy young citizens. The cultivation of " Terriers" seems to have 
 become a passion. Though the dog-star is not raging, dog-talk is to be 
 heard every where ; and, as in the case of a popular work, without 
 which no gentleman's library can be complete, — so no gentleman's 
 manage is the ton, unless he has a well-bred puppy at his heels. To 
 acquire a thorough knowledge of the points, your dog-trainer is there- 
 fore made your most intimate friend. To observe the practical opera- 
 tion of the training, a Rat>pit is to be resorted to ; and you find yourself 
 hob-nobbing with Bull Wiggins, the dog-fancier, and Bendy Slush the 
 milling cove, surrounded by an admiring crowd, made up, perchance, 
 of aristocratic thimble-riggers, prize-fighters and light-fingered gentry, 
 all no doubt very estimable men in their way, but whose society you 
 would shun if they were not of "the Fancy;" it being "such a prime 
 thing" to be able to talk familiarly with the victor of the last bruising 
 match, and so knowing to be seen in confidential confab with the 
 great Sniggs the jockey. If such is the complexion of the " high 
 places of the Nobs," what can a Democratic rat-hole resemble ? With 
 the same capacity for enjoyment as their more favored brethren, we 
 suppose the standard of refinement is not so elevated. This is per- 
 haps the result of low prices of admission, consequent upon the 
 scarcity of funds of the fancy, and the greater quantity of rats to be 
 had in the purlieus at a cheaper rate. Yet there you will also find 
 your Bull Wiggins and Bendy Slush, of a lower grade, whose hands 
 the aspiring young vagabond is proud to press, and afterwards 
 " stand a go all round," in honor of the introduction, and in admira- 
 tion of the affability of " the cove that fetched the Mutton-man." 
 Thus onward speeds the work of demoralization. 
 
 How far the spectacles of Bull-fights, Bear-baiting, Boxing-matches 
 and the rest of the so-called manly sports, tend to elevate the morals 
 of those who indulge in them, may be a question for the moralist and 
 the philosopher. When to these you add Ratting, Badger-drawing, 
 Raccoon-fighting, Cock-fighting, &c., the question becomes easier of 
 solution. For as a specimen of their elevating tendency, we may 
 
ONE OF THE RATS. JH 
 
 observe, that perhaps with the sohtary exception of the noble art of 
 Self-defence, as it is termed, you have in all these gratifications of a 
 depraved sense, the spectacle of a war of the strong upon the weak. 
 If, therefore, the position assumed by a late distinguished author in 
 his work on the " Philosophy of Lihuman Nature," be a true one, 
 (and, goodness gracious ! who would doubt it ?) " that the abuse of 
 power deadens the sensibilities and petrifies the heart, from the despot 
 on the throne to the overseer of a slave plantation, or the bigoted 
 and narrow-minded administrator of justice," the question is answered 
 in the negative, and the belief of " Merry England" in the utility of 
 these manly sports, is a sham, as veritable as any Mr. Carlyle has 
 yet discovered. We shall quote further from our author, as it is 
 absolutely refreshing in these days to meet with a work so eminently 
 original in its thought, and pure and nervous in its diction. 
 
 " 111 regulated, or unregulated power, brutalizes." " Every day's 
 experience shows you this : * a dog's obeyed in office.' " 
 
 *' Take away the restraint of a higher power, and suffer the bad 
 passions of the human heart to be gratified without stint, and then 
 you have the curse of a community." 
 
 " So you see, if the judge bullies the criminal, the tipstaff bullies 
 the ragamuffins. 
 
 "And the crier bullies the lawyers, by crying out silence, when he ^ 
 
 is making all the noise himself." 
 
 " These are all evils, and demand a remedy." 
 
 " But how ? and when ? Apply to the legislature ? 
 
 " Pooh ! no ! what did they do for consolidation ? the remedy is in 
 the people : the people are the sovereign power in this country ; look 
 at the ninety-ninth chapter for our opinion." 
 
 " Let the bad passions of the ignorant and the vile, have full sway, 
 and you have, what ? 
 
 " Rats, Bouncers, Rams, Rabbits, Schuylkill Rangers, Stingers, Pots, 
 Bull-dogs, Murderers No. 1, Murderers No. 2, Hyenas, Death-Fetchers, 
 
H2 ^NE OF THE RATS. 
 
 Waynetowners, Roosters, Bloodhounds, Pluckers, Tormenters, Blood- 
 tubs, Killers, Hindoos, Smackers, etc., et€." 
 
 "Here is, a melancholy catalogue of wickedness; disciples of grog 
 shops, and candidates for the Penitentiary." 
 
 " Here you have organized bands of the young and depraved, vic- 
 tims of badly regulated home discipline, and ill regulated passions." 
 
 " The Police Bill has done some good : the Rats have retired tem- 
 porarily to their holes : Marshal Keyser is a good officer, but they'll 
 get used to him, and then they will all be in full blast again." 
 
 " Unless we have Consolidation, that is the only cement to stop up 
 their holes : members of the next Legislature, think of this." 
 
 " The members of the last Legislature feasted and fousted, and 
 harangued about banks and other humbugs; what did they care 
 about Consolidation !" 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 " ^ A rat ! a rat ! dead for a ducat, dead !' said Hamlet, when he 
 spifflicated poor Polonius." 
 
 " A rat ! a rat ! say the people, when a leader of the opposition sells 
 himself to royalty, for a ribbon and a star, as Pulteney did." 
 
 " A rat ! a rat ! said the people of Moyamensing : so the Legisla- 
 ture passed a Police Bill." 
 
 " A rat ! a rat ! said Jack, when he found his malt was gone." 
 
 " But the rat, that eat the malt, that lay in the house that Jack 
 built, soon found his bier." 
 
 " And so some of the rats in Moyamensing, were hurt so bad by 
 the new police, that they did not know what ailed them." 
 
 " But this was not in the administration of Governor Porter." 
 
 " Although there was then enough mischief brewing." 
 
 "Now, why did the Rats and Bouncers disappear so quickly? 
 Let us understand this matter : we would explain it on philosophical 
 principles." 
 
 " Every lawyer, in his studies, has heard of a peculiar kind of deed, 
 the creation of law, called an Ancient Terrier." 
 
ONE OF THE RATS. 113 
 
 " Now Marshal Keyser is a creation of the law ; he is a fact ; you 
 know that by his deeds." 
 
 " Well, Marshal Keyser is also an Ancient Terrier : the mystery is 
 solved." 
 
 At a future day we may possibly give some more extracts from 
 this work of the agej we would make an apology for our numerous 
 quotations, were we not sensible that the subject has been better 
 illustrated by them, than it would have been by any original remarks 
 of our own. With our best bow, therefore, dear reader, we beg leave 
 to introduce you to " One of the Rats." 
 
 W. A. S. 
 
^ 
 
k> 
 
 Liih m eoUir^l'y HoiciUiud JC/fratnfr-fhif. 
 
 (T U' 'If 'ir ;lj ; \\ IF K S JEI . V.vrvi*>'»«^^ i^ V*" 
 
* .-.. 
 
 THE CUTTLE FISH. 
 
 (sepia burtoni.) 
 
 Old Bunsby thought Captain Cuttle a very odd fish, so much so, 
 that although he had a hook fastened always to him, he was never 
 caught. If you overhaul all the log-books, you will find Dickens has 
 made but one note of the like. Most folks seem to agree with Old 
 Bumsby. An ood fish! This expression has obtained a singular 
 familiarity. By what numerical combination these creatures are com- 
 puted, we are at a loss to know. Certainly not by that good old 
 system of "twice one are two," "twice two are four," else, there 
 would hardly be so many, odd — fish. There must be something 
 very singular about fish generally. This phrase, 'odd-fish,' is em- 
 ployed in any number of senses, for all sorts of things ; ready made 
 to portray every variety of eccentric human individuality, besides 
 the Searsarpint, the Sea-horse, the Mermaid, George Munday, the 
 Man with the Military Walk, Crazy Norah ; and that unique creation 
 of matter which is described, in the Zoological dictionary, as being 
 "unable to live on land, and sure to die in the water j" — Odd-fish. 
 
 K ever that human or other creature is found, to which this term 
 
 ' odd-fish ' properly and appropriately belongs, we beg the discoverer 
 
 to * make a note of it,' for our second edition — when we will make a 
 
 most ample apology to the odd-fish already enumerated, Sea-riatim. 
 
 15 
 
116 THE CUTTLE FISH. 
 
 In those days we promise them to become, in our turn, an odd-fish, 
 and never be caught again, except on our own line. 
 
 On reflection, (as we write,) we think there is a great deal ex- 
 pressed in the designation of an * odd-fish.' 
 
 In the great fish-pond of life, where are congregated all sorts, from 
 a mermaid to a whale, eels and tadpoles, and suckers included — he 
 who swims, whether above or below the ordinary level, who, by his 
 dexterity of motion — swiftness in competition for success or glory — 
 dexterity in directing a proper course — ability to make head-way 
 against a ^sea of troubles,' and by constant action, 'end them' — 
 facility in drawing crowds of admirers — ^who, at one time, shapes him- 
 self like a great leviathan, at another, assumes the character of the 
 * Star-fish" — then again delights aU beholders, who gather on the 
 shores, as he scales the loftiest pinnacles of his art, and is, what he 
 appears to be, — and, at last, rests quietly in some snug harbor, in the 
 real character of the Gold-fish — taking on each form, as though by 
 Nature he was moulded alike for all — such a singular genius is aptly 
 described as an * odd-fish." Odd, he unquestionably is ; and if " this 
 world is a stage, and men and women only actors," we don't see why 
 it cannot be as well likened unto a fish-pond, and men and women 
 only fishes. They bite at almost any bait — are ever on some 'tender 
 hooks' — often out of water, — go constantly about in ' shoals' — and 
 present all those features of peculiarity, which it is said are naturally 
 fishey. 
 
 To be as ' dry as a fish,' is daily found to be the candid acknowl- 
 edgment of 'some 'odd-fish,' at the 'Gem,' or the 'Empire,* or the 
 ' Pewter Mug,' ' Gug's,' ' Dandurand's,' or ' Pelletier.' 
 
 Likened unto the natural covering of a piscatory specimen, is many 
 a poor fellow, who is reputed to be 'very scaly.' Who has not heard 
 of a 'Land Shark' on Bamegat; and that fellow "who is as slippery as 
 an Eel ?" So one can proceed, and prove by demonstration, that men 
 are so like fish, that to refer to any particular ' odd-fish,' would leave 
 the reader in doubt if 'twere meant to describe a Man or a Mackerel. 
 
d|f THE CUTTLE FISH. 117 
 
 We are not to be understood as Agoing a fishing' on this occasion, 
 old Izaak-like, wasting our time over the immediate expectation of a 
 
 * glorious nibble.' Far from it. We have " been and done and gone." 
 We threw in our hook, and drew out ^ the Cuttle Fish.' We managed, 
 or rather, we are a * manager' in our own ' Broadway.' The * theatre' 
 of our exploits has a ' prompter' that is under the sea-nes. We know 
 how to hook a Star-fish, at the proper time and in the best manner. We 
 bait a ^ silver hook' with a new bait, called a * bill poster.' We use the 
 
 * under-line.' Hence, it is easy to draw all the fish into our ' circle,' 
 or ' pit,' or ' boxes,' as we find where they most do congregate. In 
 order thus to succeed, we are " supplied by Nature with eight arms" — 
 and we are in like manner furnished " with the power of ejecting a 
 ^ black fluid" like the whale does water.' This black fluid has a very 
 queer scientific name, not easily pronounced ; but we have chosen in 
 this instance to ^tyle it " Newspaper-puffs," which are composed of a 
 black fluid, ejected at stated intervals, evening and morning, by a 
 strong press-ure on the exchequer. It is wonderful to behold ' the 
 Cuttle Fish' undergoing this operation. To see it with its eight arms 
 and its hands ' in company,' throwing out the newspaper puffs, and 
 drawing in the fishes by shoals, thus doing a 'good business,' to the 
 horror of other 'fishers of men,' who wait for a 'nible-o;' and as they 
 wait, sing ' buy a Brougham,' in the hope of making a clean sweep of 
 at least some of the ' gold fish.' It won't do; — but in the language of 
 old Bunsby, if so — so also — if so be — ^why so it is — and so let it be. 
 
 Having hooked 'the Cuttle Fish,' we have dished him up, for 
 the instruction of the scientific public. It's an odd-fish as every 
 body knows, at least every body is presumed to know. It is rather 
 a violent effort of the mind, to presume people ought to know all that 
 is proper to be known — but as this is the age of great efforts, and we 
 won't be behind the age. So we presume every body knows this 
 Cuttle Fish is an odd-fish. It was odd in this, that it is the only one 
 of its kind. It was first discovered by one Dickens. Where he found 
 it, we don't know, he never would tell. Maybe it was left at his 
 

 218 THE CUTTLE FISH. 
 
 door in a cigar box, a found-ling. Some very odd-fish are thus de- 
 posited, to the utter astonishment of two of the family, Mr. Bachelor 
 Finances, and Mrs. Domestic Happiness. "Well, Dickens found the 
 specimen, and ^ made a note of it.' He described it to Dombey and 
 Son, and old Dombey, or some other old fogey, put it in a book. 
 Now, the book was very good — but it matters not how good a book 
 is now-a-days, it must be addressed to the general understanding to 
 be popular. In order to penetrate this mental condition of the masses, 
 this book requires to be illustrated. So fashionable has this feature 
 in the literature of the day become, that every thing must be illus- 
 trated-, even the ^ news' is illustrated — so as to be understood. It 
 is too wire-drawn, now, unless thus made intelligible. This Cuttle 
 Fish could not be understood till it shared the fate of all the other 
 odd fish. How to manage it, required great skill ; and Mr. William 
 E. Burton was the first to delight the public with an illustrated 
 sketch, as large as life and twice as natural. He has wonderful 
 success in that line. He did the same for "Bob Acres," "Harry 
 Lion," " Dogberry," " Aminadab Sleek," " Macawber," " Mark Med- 
 dles," and lots of other odd fish. 
 
 They say, who ought to know, however, that the best specimen 
 of the kind that ever was done, of an odd fish, is the one which we 
 have presented to the reader to illustrate our book. Whoever has 
 any curiosity to examine into the subject closely, to learn the pecu- 
 liarity of the creature, to see it exhibited in its best light, in all the 
 attractive and delightful forms it takes on, we advise such an one to 
 go and see it for themselves — Burton as Cuttle ! Should, however, 
 it be impossible for any curious investigators to go and do as we 
 suggest, let them, or either or all of them, just procure this number 
 of our Natural History, and in it will be found the very best and latest 
 illustration of the subject. We have combined in one group the Odd 
 Fish, Burton, and the Cuttle Fish, as a part of the " Sea-rious family." 
 We hope our effort will be duly appreciated, and properly com- 
 '* pensated; and, as a standard of its real value, we think it worth at *& 
 least, a *V.' 
 
i- 
 
 i 
 
H 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 Q 
 m 
 
THE GOLD FISH. 
 
 (MAMMONISTES TRAN8MUTATUS.) 
 
 It was, we believe, Montesquieu, who made the observation, that 
 mankind is wise in the mass, but foolish in detail ; — which is, we think, 
 (granting its truth,) peculiarly interesting to each of us in his indi- 
 vidual capacity. Especially, if into any open interstices of said 
 remark, we could dovetail the saying of Horace, that the wisest man 
 is not wise at all times ; or better still, if we could find further room 
 for such personal reminiscence as might arise from a moderately accu- 
 rate analogical consideration of Hoffman's expressive declaration, that 
 on Thursday last, at precisely half-past four in the afternoon, he was 
 an ass. All these properly united, would make up a peculiarly salu- 
 brious subject, for a few morning contemplations — perhaps the most 
 luxuriantly prolific subject many of us could alight upon, according 
 to the personal knowledge we had incidentally picked up. Have you 
 so retentive a memory as Hofiman ? 
 
 It would be a great thing if all of us could be brought to know, 
 and to really believe, that every individual of us, by no means except- 
 ing our favorite self, had a weak point or two — a flaw in the metal 
 — an unguarded out-post, or badly defended port-pole of the under- 
 standing — that a trap can be set which we cannot resist — that the fact 
 that a mouse cannot safely encounter the smell of toasted cheese, nor 
 
J20 THE GOLD FISH. 
 
 a fly, the taste of sugar and water, poisoned though they may be — 
 that such facts admit of so great extension and comprehensive appli- 
 cation, as to embrace the human animal, all and singular : it would 
 be a great thing to be thoroughly convinced of these, and though we 
 might find ourselves shorn of some favorite locks, or pet cluster 
 ringlet, it would be bad for Philistines generally. If we could only 
 know exactly the bait that we ought most carefully to keep clear of, 
 it would be a most desirable augmentation of knowledge ; individual 
 comfort and rectitude would be vastly increased, and society would 
 be much benefitted thereby. For, as a writer, Jonathan Dymond we 
 think, justly says, the imperfect workings of theoretical ethics arise 
 from the general incompleteness of individual character. But the 
 very far off posterity of the era of common sense will have an astonish- 
 ing time of it — when the general tone of society will be such that 
 woolly horses will not pay, nor hair tonics sell. Most desirable, but 
 utterly unhoped-for Millennium. 
 
 Enough — wisdom is a rare accomplishment, perhaps, however, the 
 mass have it, and as an illustration of which, we ask you to consider 
 the estimation in which our Gold Fish is held, and always has been, 
 and always — ^we had nearly said, always will be — ^for we have no 
 faith in great reforms, especially if projected by too great men, 
 the greatest of reforms having been accomplished by humble men, or 
 more especially if they are not needed at all — neither the very great 
 men, nor their very great reforms. There is no bait here for us at all 
 events — ^we are on the safe side for once ! 
 
 Get together the population — not all of it, for it could not all come, 
 say any respectable representation, call a mass meeting for the 
 purpose — ring the fire bell, or in any other way bring out a sufficient 
 number for you to safely presume that it is the public ; get from it an 
 expression of opinion, and you will find that in at least ninety-nine 
 times out of a hundred, Mammonistes is an individual of no sort of 
 personal account whatever; yet there will be scarcely one of that 
 crowd — ^probably not excluding yourself, who would not stare at him 
 
THE GOLD FISH. 121 
 
 in the street or elsewhere — at him, the man of a million of dollars, — 
 longer than at the man distinguished for his million of good actions. 
 Why does the person of Mammonistes, his wife, dog, or carriage, 
 attract your attention ? If you are young, we might excuse you for 
 squinting at his daughter The humble and persevering practice of 
 many virtues, which is much more common than is usually supposed, 
 would invariably be applauded by the expression of the public opinion 
 of any public in the world, but the humbly virtuous would attract 
 little personal attention from the constituent individuals of any public 
 or republic whatever. Foolish in detail, — very stupid detail. 
 
 But here he is, we have caught him for you ; now stare at him as 
 much as you please — done in gold, gone, changed, transmuted per- 
 fectly, he did it himself — gold, gold — now he has turned into gold : 
 stare at him. 
 
 Our gold fish — Mammonistes, the man changed into gold, is a rare 
 cosmopolite — very rare, and nearly restricted to the cities. He is one 
 of the most extraordinary of animals — one of the very farthest 
 removed from any proper standard of excellence — of all ultraists, and 
 none are to be cherished with safety, or encouraged with impunity, 
 he is one of the worst — the man who is the pure essence of the prin- 
 ciple of selfishness, the man who — the fact is. Sir, we can't go it at 
 such a high pitch, and beg leave to add, in short, that he is no man 
 at all, no how. 
 
 But there are worse than he — worse : those are the counterfeits, and 
 would be gold-fish — a sort of dingy, black and golden, or greenish 
 silver fish, of which are many of those who swim so complacently 
 about the shallow waters of Third, or Dock, or of Wall street — counter- 
 feits all. Occasionally a true gold fish makes his appearance amongst 
 them, but rarely ; and quite as rarely do those shallow swimmers ever 
 succeed in getting themselves to be entirely, or even partly golden — 
 notwithstanding their ardent desires. 
 
 They are alike, however, in most things — the genuine and the 
 counterfeit. Their religion is most peculiar — the worship of the grand 
 
122 THEGOLDFISH. 
 
 Lama is nothing to it — ^they believe with a firm and stedfast faith, 
 that the chief end of man is to get two per cent, per month, and a 
 good endorser ; that it is very wrong to lie, for it hurts one's conscience 
 so to be found out ; they have the greatest possible respect for irre- 
 proachable personal reputation, but believe that the word should 
 always be spelled pursonal — that pursomil prowess is the only real 
 heroism; that a subscription to the Church is religion; that the educa- 
 tion of their children is sufficiently attended to by paying the teachers. 
 It is a hard life, that of the gold fish and his shadowy counterfeits ; 
 but so he lives — so he dies. And as nearly all men die much as they 
 have lived, neither his theory of morals, nor his firm faith desert 
 him ; sensible to the last, he hugs in his breast the refreshing remem- 
 brances of his good deeds, and especially comforts himself with the 
 balmy recollection that he never, in a single instance, oppressed the 
 poor, so long as the security was good, and the interest promptly paid. 
 
 C. 
 

 
THE SONNY AND THE SUCKER. 
 
 (EBRIOSUS MUTABILIS ET EBRIOSUS IMMUTABILIS.) 
 
 We present our readers with two faithful portraitures of " the 
 Sonny and the Sucker," two well-known fishes, to be seen every day 
 in the week, including Sunday. 
 
 Properly considered, the Sucker should precede the Sonny, as a 
 
 woman must necessarily be one of the fallen and degraded before she 
 
 can become a Magdalen, or be entitled to the benefits of the society. 
 
 Female virtue clothed in rags may knock and knock again at the 
 
 doors of the Magdalen asylums for relief, and knock in vain ; she 
 
 must be qualified to receive its benefits, or she can starve in her 
 
 despair ; she must wear upon her brow the stamp of shame, or creep 
 
 into some dark hole and die in her poverty and her chastity. So 
 
 your most violent Sonny is generally one of those who have wallowed 
 
 in the mire of intoxication till they have almost lost all the signs of 
 
 16 
 
124 ' THE SONNY AND THE SUCKER. 
 
 humanity, and become assimilated to the porker ; and it appears to 
 be a mark of merit among them to publish to the community what 
 beasts they have been, and what virtuous and moral creatures they 
 have become. 
 
 It was Mawworm who said, *^ Despise me — I likes to be despised ;" 
 and verily it would appear, as if many of the regenerated of the 
 present day had adopted his philosophy and his example. 
 - There are many fine specimens of the Sucker to l>e found in the 
 neighborhood of the Delaware and the Hudson Rivers : walking 
 philosophers, they pursue the current of their investigations in every 
 dram shop, and enter largely into every new theory tending to 
 illustrate the capacity of the alimentary canal. This is the only 
 kind of canal they care about investigating. Morris Canal and 
 Delaware and Hudson may go up and down, without exciting their 
 sympathy or attention. For why? because water alone enters largely 
 into their composition ; whereas your alimentary canal, which also 
 goes up and down, commands their warmest feeling on account of 
 the necessity there appears to exist of keeping it in active operation 
 by a constant supply of brandy and water: or what is nearer to 
 the mark perhaps, alcohol mixed with coloring matter, the true fire 
 water of Hell, skillfully prepared to meet the wants of the com- 
 munity by the highly respectable individual who, after dealing out 
 death and destruction through the six days of the week, is found on 
 a Sunday piously turning up the whites of his eyes, and between the 
 pieces carrying around the penny box, into which what he puts " is 
 nothing to nobody." The liberal donation of a danseuse (Fanny 
 Elsler) was refused by the pious trustees of a religious corporation, 
 because they could not approve of the " means by which she lived ;" 
 but they take eagerly, and blazon widely, the bequests of those who, 
 dying, seek to purchase their birth-right to Heaven, with the wealth 
 they have acquired by ministering to the gratification of the greatest 
 vice that ever afflicted suffering humanity. 
 
THE SONNY AND THE SUCKER. ^25 
 
 The Sucker, sometimes called the Bloater, has habits peculiar to 
 himself. He never gets in the deep parts of a stream, but haunts 
 about bars, and wherever there is very little water. As the Sucker 
 possesses no weight, he is without scales — though many people are 
 absurd enough to state that he is a very scaly thing. Thus it is that 
 he pokes himself where respectable fish would be ashamed to go. He 
 is quite accustomed to dams — ^from others; to falls — on the curb- 
 stones ; and though he has a horror of too much water, has no aver- 
 sion to heavy wet. He will accept assistance from any one, and 
 every sort of aid — except lemonade — unless the latter has a very 
 strong stick in it. 
 
 It is not difficult to catch your Sucker, as he will take any thing 
 you give him, except ice water. Though a fly has no effect on him, 
 he will rise at a flier. The worm of the still is a favorite morsel of 
 his. He may be tickled by a straw — if one end of it be placed in a 
 cobbler or a brandy smash. The best mode of taking him is to bait 
 your hook with a stiff" cock-tail or gin toddy, which you place on the 
 bar. Turn your back and gaze another way. The Sucker will look 
 quietly around, grow very red in the gills, and glide up carelessly. 
 Keep yourself very quiet. He wriggles along, eying the bait, and 
 watching you. His nose comes near it. Unable to withstand the 
 temptation, he seizes and swallows it. Now's your time, seize him 
 by the back of the neck, and land him suddenly. It is difficult to 
 preserve the Sucker. Sometimes the Washingtonians succeed in the 
 attempt, and then he is speedily metamorphosed into a Sonny. This 
 is a fish that swims in deep water, and plenty of it. He is a very 
 fussy fish, displaying a marked dislike to be associated with his 
 ancient friend, the Sucker. He is great on procession days, sporting 
 about " the old oaken bucket," and flapping his fins constantly in the 
 face of every passer-by — whom he assiduously presses to take a 
 drink. He prides himself on his temperance in liquids, but forgets 
 frequently there is an intemperance in eating as well as in drinking ; 
 and likewise an intemperance of speech, not the least evil in this 
 
226 THE SONNY AND THE SUCKER. 
 
 world. There is one peculiarity we have noticed about this fish, 
 more so than in any other, viz., a frequent recurrence of pain in 
 the stomach, or colic; this, however, is speedily cured by a small 
 application of Lavender Brandy, or a little genuine old Cognac, 
 "just by way of a medicine." There is one striking point of dif- 
 ference between him and the Sucker. However valorously the 
 Sonny may talk he rarely comes to blows ; while you can never go to 
 a " free blow" without finding a great many Suckers. Let any man 
 in trouble and distress, " with his pocket full of rocks," rush into any 
 tavern or oyster cellar about 11 A.M., any day, and cry for succor, 
 and he will speedily find the Suckers come. 
 
 .4 
 
 .#■■' 
 
»■ 
 
 THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 
 
 (DUX PICTOE WOODSIDEII.) 
 
 The advertisements were inserted — the posting bills printed and 
 posted. The hall was engaged — the Musical Fund Hall. All the 
 preparations were made; even to the engagement of that refined 
 and respectable body of gentlemen, the Marshal's Police. They lent 
 their powerful aid to the Committee of Arrangements, who were in 
 full feather and number, in the by no means easy duty of preserving 
 proper order in and about the hall. They took good care, too, that 
 all carriages " set down heads east ;" and, in fact, acted so efficiently 
 and officiously, particularly two or three from Kensington, that an 
 elderly cab-man, religiously inclined, exclaimed, in the language of 
 " the monarch-minstrel," " I have seen the wicked in great power, 
 and spreading himself like a green bay tree." 
 
 The ancient cab-man very soon discovered the sinfulness of quoting 
 
128 TUE CANVAS -BACK DUCK. 
 
 Scripture before policemen : instantly a full half-dozen revolvers 
 were presented at his head, and he was removed from the ground 
 without having just cause to complain of not being attended by •* a 
 proper escort." 
 
 It was on last Thursday evening. The committee were cute — ^had 
 an eye to propriety, even to the selection of time. Thursday even- 
 ings, above all others, for people of the high ton ! Even marriages, 
 though common enough in all conscience, must be consummated on 
 a Thursday — ^perhaps to make poor Friday more miserable the next 
 morning. 
 
 The hall was a perfect blaze of light — a full head of gas and patent 
 burners. Bright shone the eyes of the beauty, and gallant were the 
 chivalry of the city. The stage groaned under the weight and 
 measure of great men in every department of art and science. The 
 Professors of our Colleges, quitting their " academic occupation," were 
 there ; whilst the Academies of Natural Science and Fine Arts were 
 not unrepresented. To these may be added, the Committee on Watch 
 and Lamps of the Select, and the Committee on Pumps of the Com- 
 mon Councils of the city — all very knowing and very aristocratic. 
 
 At half-past eight o'clock, buzz and conversation stopped, whilst 
 the profoundest attention was paid to a grand overture performed by 
 the members of the Phil-noisic Society — the Society quite surpassed 
 itself in forte and fury; indeed, it only required the occasional 
 discharge of cannon to have perfected the harmony of the music, and 
 the terror of the audience. 
 
 After the music had subsided, a general congratulation took place, 
 which gave way to a panic, occasioned by a fight, on the very stage 
 itself, between the "bag-pipe's" little white and black dog and the 
 " kettle-drum's " big black dog. The fight and panic were momentary, 
 however — the gentlemen, who had been compared to green bay trees, 
 coming speedily to the rescue. 
 
 At a quarter before nine, " 7'he Doctor " was in every body's mouth. 
 It was, " The Doctor! the Doctor! Dear me ! where's the Doctor?" 
 
THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 129 
 
 Now, " The Doctor'^ is by no means an extraordinary character. It 
 is true, he has just returned from a visit to that amiable lady, the 
 Mother of America, or rather of the States. A very speedy and 
 secure way of obtaining fame and influence among the quondam 
 disobedient daughters of the estimable lady. But, apart from this, 
 and any how, he is a man of sufficient common sense to appreciate, 
 advocate, and expound the science of Comic Natural History. 
 
 The impatient audience were released from anxiety by Dobbs of 
 the * Genius,' assisted by Jonathan, of the Academy of Fine Arts, 
 who announced the approach of " The Doctor," in a silent but unmis- 
 takeable manner. Upon a huge easel, placed upon the centre of the 
 platform, they posted, so as to command the best light, a colossal 
 picture of the 
 
 Canvas-back Duck (^Dux Pictor), ' 
 
 which Mr. Stephens has copied in small, with the faithfulest fidelity, 
 as a large number of testimonials from some of " the most remarkable 
 men " present bear witness. 
 
 The instant the painting was exposed, the originality of the design, 
 the grace of execution, and the truthfulness of the portrait brought 
 down cheer upon cheer : in the midst of which " The Doctor " strode 
 forward, making a profound bow. Then began the waving of hand- 
 kerchiefs, the clapping of hands, the stamping of feet, the crash of 
 canes, and the revolution of beavers — and so intense grew the excite- 
 ment, that, for the space of three minutes, "The Doctor" was unable 
 to proceed — perhaps dust got down his throat. 
 
 He wore his hair remarkably short, not concealing a barley-corn 
 of his massive forehead— his eyes twinkled — his nose was roseate : 
 may be witli blushes, may be with excitement, and may be with 
 neither — his mouth looked smiling, but firm, (he didn't appear to 
 have a chew-tobacco in it) — and his chin reposed, becomingly, in a 
 
230 . THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 
 
 white neck-cloth. But are white neck-cloths and blue coats fashion- 
 able among the high ton? "The Doctor" wore both, and looked 
 very well in them — a green waistcoat harmonized the blue, while 
 black " Oh no we never mention em's," balanced the whole. Such 
 was his appearance when he opened: which he did, by bouncing 
 straight into the subject, hurry-skurry, in good voice and wind, 
 with — 
 
 " Comic Natural History, ladies and gentlemen, like natural 
 bridges, is not easily gotten over. We must travel slowly and surely, 
 but without system or method : thinking of every thing in general, 
 and nothing in particular. We have no beaten track : our way is 
 zigzag. My lecture shall be so — a regular, connected and methodical 
 discourse is abominably mechanical, humdrum and vulgar — as Daniel 
 Webster says, ' An exploded idea !' and I will not shock your sensi- 
 bilities by lamenting over its carcass, but prove, by practical demon- 
 stration, my contempt for it and its shallow worshippers. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen : The subject for examination and dissec- 
 tion stands before you. (A voice, * Where ?') I speak figuratively — 
 do not mistake me ! It is the Dux-jpictor — classical, and high fanutin 
 name of a bird, commonly called Canvas-hack ditch ! This truly in- 
 teresting biped has been known to naturalists from time immemorial. 
 It is spoken of by Chin-chopper, a Chinese philosopher, who flourished 
 a long time before the Flood, and whose works have been recently 
 discovered in the Imperial library at Pekin. Respecting the Wud 
 slid (Dux-pictor), he states that *it is very much given to painting, 
 and was the first drawer of water; (literally translated, the first 
 animal that drew water correctly). Its plumage is variegated, varia- 
 ble and various, but for the most part, agriculturally speaking, seedy. 
 Its bill is never as long as the Landlord's (a very curious and econo- 
 mical bird of prey), and it is never known to keep any books — nay, 
 not even borrowed ones.' 
 
 " Canvas-backs, in the times of Chin-chopper, must have lived a 
 
THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 231 
 
 comparatively happy life; since, notwithstanding he enters very 
 minutely into details regarding them, he does not even hint at the 
 existence of the snazzy gosling, a species of patron, well known now- 
 a-days, as their constant and unappeasable torment. The snozzy- 
 gosling haunts them in their roosts, constitutes himself minister pleni- 
 potentiary to direct and manage their business affairs — knows more 
 about everything than they do — proves it, by giving unwholesome and 
 impracticable advice, and obtains for his pains, their best productions, 
 * without money, and without price ;' the canvas-backs possessing, 
 figuratively speaking, whole udders-full of * the milk of human kind- 
 ness.'" 
 
 " The Doctor," taking a glass of water to sprinkle his ideas, and 
 wiping that forehead, continued, with the universally adopted start of 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," * * « Canvas-back ducks are considered 
 by many, otherwise well-informed people, wild fowls, and not partial 
 to water; — a great mistake! Why, I have at this moment, an indi- 
 vidual in my eye, sitting over there, with a Bird of Paradise perched 
 at his side, and to whom I could call your attention, were it not for 
 his great modesty ; he is willing to be qualified to the fact, that on a 
 cold winter's night, he heard some half dozen of them, in a roost 
 opposite the State House, crying out * for about the space of two 
 hours,' * Water !' It is perhaps proper that I should mention, the 
 committee on pumps had neglected the blue cows in the neighborhood. 
 
 " Now then, I will call your undivided attention to this painting of 
 a very rare specimen of the Dux-pictor, now roosting at the Art 
 Union building, plump and comfortable. (Waving of handkerchiefs, 
 cheers, &c.) 
 
 " Observe the episode in the picture. Hagar and Tshmael in the 
 wilderness of Beersheba. Abraham, according to Jewish legend, was 
 a portly gentleman. He was cosy, convivial and corpulent for many 
 years — happy and well-behaved, and would have continued so, had 
 he not been bothered by woman's talk. It was woman's talk that 
 
 17 
 
1^2 TH^ CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 
 
 caused him to perform the impolite and unhandsome action of send- 
 ing Hagar away. And Abraham's peace and fatness had departed 
 forever. (Sighs and groans.) 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen, I perceive that you are tired, weary, and 
 worn out, but shall I go on ?" (Great hubbub, terminating with one 
 tremendous shout, ' Go on !' * Go on !') 
 
 " Very well, I'll go on uip to Sowers' an«l get a drink. Good night!" 
 
 6th W. 
 
 ^ 
 
^ 
 
 < 
 
 V'^-^ -5| 
 
«^. 
 
 THE WHARF RAT. 
 
 (rattus indolentus.) 
 
 The Puritan soldiers of Cromwell, we are informed, had a great 
 dislike for sermons that were unsavai'y. Now, courteous reader, 
 lest you may have a similar antipathy, we beg to remind you that it 
 is our subject only which has that quality; and that we in fact have 
 been appointed a committee of one, partly by ourselves, and partly 
 by our publisher, to be a sort of substitute for pulverized charcoal, or 
 ^ an editorial chloride of lime, for the very purpose of rendering it 
 * agreeable. 
 
 There is a philosophy of loafing as there is of all other things. 
 Aristotle seems to have thought that there is one only correct and 
 true theory of Cobbling, and of course none other, — leakage and inef- 
 ficient welting to be attributed, we suppose, to the misunderstanding 
 thereof, to the improper education of the practitioner, or to his indul- 
 gence in speculative opinions of his own, to the neglect of the right 
 authorities, — mere heterodoxy in cobbling. 
 
134 ' THEWHARFRAT. 
 
 ■«- 
 
 The loafer is strictly American. He is idle by choice ; this is the 
 only country in which he can flourish. His theory, or that branch 
 of philosophy which we propose to notice, briefly, has this merit, most 
 uncommon, it is safe, — quite safe for the operator. He commits no 
 bungling error of judgment, sure to rap him on the knuckles sometime 
 in his life ; he attempts to act no sophism nor practical hyperbole — 
 no, he quietly and calmly sits down, and that ends the argument at 
 present for him. 
 
 No American born white man is a loafer — the profession is entirely 
 monopolized by the blacks. The black man is the born loafer, and 
 as exhibited in these Northern States is certainly and demonstratively 
 the absolute termination and fag end of civilized society as at present 
 arranged, — ^you may begin wherever you please — with any magnate 
 of the land, or any class of magnates, but here is the termination, — 
 it is something to know that. 
 
 In the reorganization of society which is to be performed by various 
 political necromancers, of which Fourier styles himself the grand — 
 something — Fogy we believe — that's it, the grand Fogy — all people 
 are to be provided with spheres of activity suited to their natural 
 abilities or talents. A most accommodating theory, — so soon as they 
 set it going and get themselves duly installed, we shall occasionally 
 call on these grand Fogies with some groups of miscellaneous indivi- 
 duals that we know of, and shall consider ourselves as having obtained 
 a vast accession of insight into fancy philosophy, and particularly 
 socialism, when we see them disposed of according to their capabi- 
 lities. How think you will they accommodate that respectable body 
 of loafers whose only talent lies in exterminating pork and beans ? — 
 we can produce some great geniuses in that line. Into what elevated 
 position is to be placed the important class of pipe smokers ? We 
 bespeak one whole phalanx to begin with at least for them; we can 
 furnish men and women, — some with magnificent talents, whose 
 mouths are so admirably formed as to make with a short pipe the 
 most extraordinary fit you ever saw. ^^ 
 
THE WHARF RAT. 135 
 
 Many other of our geniuses must be accommodated : the big whist- 
 lers, juba dancers, bone players — we shall take them under our most 
 devoted care when the new era begins; we intend to be the political 
 guardian and philosophic counsellor of all the black loafers. 
 
 The wharf-rat is one of the characteristic varieties of the American 
 loafer. Linnaeus thought that the black rat was native to America — 
 so far as related to the human rat he was right — rather prospectively 
 it is true in his time, but he has come out right, which is more than 
 always happens to philosophers or naturalists. 
 
 There is certainly a white wharf rat, of which our artist has caught 
 a capital specimen ; but he is always an exotic, a rat and loafer in 
 general by necessity in his own country — frequently returns in this 
 country to something very like a man again — his offspring almost 
 invariably does. No such thing happens to the domestic black breed. 
 The two species are entirely distinct, and thus easily recognized. 
 
 The native black has the advantage, and claims rightly enough on 
 the score of possessing every qualification, especially that of intense 
 constitutional indolence, the entire prerogative of all wharf-ratting 
 privileges. He is generally a pleasant enough varmint, fat, good- 
 natured, full of laugh, and with a shining skin. Quite capable under 
 sufficient drill of performing several things besides ratting — but he 
 must be drilled, and the only insignia of office that he has respect for 
 is a long cowhide — for which he has the most entire reverence ; and 
 if the sort of drill indicated is faithfully persisted in he is said to 
 become quite expert in the management of the hoe, — respectable in 
 the various abstract and relative uses of the hod or even the wheel, 
 barrow, and it has even been observed possibly practicable to trust 
 him with the axe, flail, and some other of the more complex instru- 
 ments of utilitarian gymnastics. But rarely without at least an 
 occasional drill as above intimated, and the constant reminiscence of 
 it is always of great advantage to him. 
 
 To the white rat it is of no service at all. 
 
 The head quarters of the black rat in our great city is Market 
 
u^ 
 
 THE WHARF RAT. 
 
 Street wharf, in summer time especially ; and if any curious amateur 
 of natural history wishes to get a new stock of tangible — seeable — 
 smellable facts, let him visit that locality early in the morning, and 
 in shad time. Possibly if he is a housekeeper he has heard of such a 
 feat as begging for cold victuals, — may have seen it performed — there 
 he will see what becomes of it — see it done brown into a queer sort 
 of poi^pie composed of residuary balances of everybody's dinners, 
 boiled together, equivocally striped and hashed crosswise into rations 
 for the wharf-rats. Cheap too — sold at the suitable rate of two cents 
 a thing-full, rat measure — the thing being larger or smaller, variable 
 we suppose with the market, dependent on the luck of the beggars. 
 
 This is the only regular feed the rat wants ; afterwards his next 
 look out is for a greater desideratum, rum, which he mostly succeeds 
 in compassing, with the addition of a stray nibble too at a cheese, 
 codfish, a chance apple or lick of molasses. Oftener however after 
 achieving the rum, he sits or lies himself down quietly and goes to 
 sleep — • • 
 
 To sleep, perchance to dream — 
 
 Perhaps with the incompatibility common in dreams, he sees the 
 world flying in the air in the direction of Jersey, and oddly enough 
 it is visibly and actually barrel shaped — a huge barrel — the human 
 inhabitants mere hangers on to the outside, and each one armed with 
 a long straw ! — sucking his living from it in the best way he can for 
 a short season. 
 
 Or, that all America is covered with barrels of rice, sugar, and 
 whiskey, and a wilderness of molasses hogsheads, all with staves con- 
 veniently broken for the benefit and accommodation of all descriptions 
 of rats and other loafers. 
 
 Or, being stimulated thereto by a visit he once made to the shilling 
 gallery at Arch Street, he dreams that all the world is a wharf, and 
 all the men and women merely loafers. 
 
 C. 
 
h 
 
 If 
 

 © 
 

 THE SEA BASS. 
 
 (OPHICLIOIDES SEGUINII.) 
 
 In our prefatory notice to the reader, we promised bim, that 
 " The Comic Natural History" should embrace Fishes as well as Birds 
 and Beasts — Quadrupeds is a far better word. In our last number 
 we presented our subscribers with two specimens of the inhabitants 
 of the watery element. The warm state of the weather inviting us 
 to take another dip, we continue our researches, trusting that in so 
 doing, we shall not be found very much out of our element, or get 
 into " troubled waters." Pursuing the even ttn(yr of our way we 
 proceed by describing the " Sea Bass" a truthful representation of 
 which our artist has " dished up" in his best style; those who have 
 once seen the original cannot fail recognizing the copy at a glance ; 
 a description to them will be unnecessary, but to the " uninitiated" 
 a short "preZiw^" will doubtless be instructive. 
 
138 THE SEA BASS. 
 
 The appearance of the " Tlie Sea Bass" is generally prepossessing, 
 of a long slender make, and may readily be distinguished from the 
 rest of its cotemporaries by the extent of its proboscis, or cutwater, 
 which feature enables it to penetrate to a great depth in the water. 
 In the heat of Summer it is sometimes found in Lake Erie, Niagara 
 River and other adjacent streams where the water is deep; the 
 Indians in that region of country know it by the name of " The Great 
 Diver," and are very partial to it. It is mostly celebrated for its deep 
 singing voice; and whenever we have met with it, either in the hands 
 of " Bohemian Gipseys," " Brigands," or other characters on the stage 
 of life, this deep Bass voice was ever in our ears. It is generally seen 
 with the Female of its species, whose voice, though less powerful, is 
 equally pleasing and attractive. In form, the female approaches the 
 mermaid more nearly — to our minds — than any previous manufacture 
 has done, even though under the auspicious aid of the " Hum-Bug" so 
 delicately described in No. 2. " The Sea Bass" eats like one of the 
 human race, but drinks like a fish ; like the Whale and Porpoise, it 
 is warm blooded : at least we arrive at this conclusion from the fact 
 of our having seen it smohe excessively on many occasions. Its 
 method of obtaining its food is curious and peculiar to its species ; for 
 while some Beasts and many Birds (the Attorney, or Legal Bird, for 
 instance) have to "pre?/" for a living, the " Sea Bass" sings for one. 
 To do this more efiectually it has the faculty of putting out a " BilV 
 of such attractive power, that an informant of ours — a regular 
 " Post&)'" in such affairs — assures us that it obtains so great a supply 
 of sustenance on such occasions, that it remains quiet, if not torpid, 
 for days and sometimes weeks together ; this circumstance obtains 
 for it, from some, a character for modesty, but, more correctly by 
 others, a reputation for re^/rement. It is not of a quarrelsome nature, 
 though it enters into numerous " Engagements " these, however, are 
 not always with its own species, they are therefore seldom of a " scaly" 
 nature. 
 
 If it were allowable to enter into a Phrenological description of the 
 
THESEABASS. . 139 
 
 head before us, we should prove the " Sea Bass" possessed of a 
 ^^8(mnd" mind, never having been in-"«eiW (sane); — a writ "de 
 Lunatico Inquirendo" would consequently. " nett the drawer^^ but 
 little — honest, being averse to any thing that is Twoked ; independent, 
 never being on a line ; against capital punishment, shunning the rod ; 
 averse to dancing, despising the reel — except the genuine Scotch or 
 Virginia — is very time serving, always keeping a watch on float ; but 
 generous, not being inclined to arbait (bate). The depth of its voice 
 is not the only "deepness" for which it is remarkable, being ex- 
 tremely wary, and " hard to be caught." The female also lends her 
 aid and voice, and watches closely the interests of her paramount 
 lord, c-o much so that it is an evidence of unusual good skill and 
 " management" on the part of those angling for " the Sea Bass" when 
 an advantage is taken of either, for they act in " Concert" so closely, 
 that if the lines are not too loose, but properly " contract"-ed, catch one 
 and you have them both. " Overtures" for release speedily follow, and 
 if they are out of " Season," the nett profits will not be much should 
 possession be persisted in. Some might deem them immensely valu- 
 able, as they possess a sort of patent Sub-Treasury license to issue 
 7iotes for general circulation, but as we do not recollect ever having 
 seeing one cashed at our counter, we are unable to define the true 
 value of the above "issue." When in pursuit of sustenance, "the 
 Sea Bass" goes wdth a mixed Comjpany, and places great reliance on 
 the Leader, there being generally an af^?i-ity between them ; they 
 are partial to " Gleffs" (spelt by the sto/i?/-hearted with an " i") and 
 when " engaged" in pursuit are so mixed up with Flats, Sharps, and 
 Naturals, that one would almost doubt their motives, or fear a discord 
 will arise among them, but their harmony is seldom broken. Their 
 movements are various, according to circumstances. Piano — Adagio — 
 Largo — Larghetto — Crescendo — Furioso, finishing a la Cadenza; they 
 are unable to endure fatigue, for they make frequent rests, and their 
 motions quaver greatly at times. Baron Cuvier in his celebrated work 
 
 18 
 
140 TEE SEA BASS. 
 
 on Ornithology, has mentioned the Ven-guin at some length, but Isaac 
 Walton in his Treatise on Fishes, has entirely omitted the S&-{^yguin 
 or " Sea Bass." A celebrated Professor now in this country fishing for 
 information, intends publishing a work entirely devoted to this branch 
 of Natural History, and if a similar omission occurs, it cannot be pro- 
 nounced a truly^Ti-nished production J time, however, will prove this, 
 Till then we now take leave of our " fish out of water," hoping it may 
 go on swimmingly, with the tide of happiness and prosperity in its 
 favor, till life's sand has run its course. 
 
 T. McK. 
 
r 
 
I 
 
 1 
 
 =1 
 
 
 ^ 
 
'^ 
 
 THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. 
 
 • » 
 (AMANE8 8UBDIAB0LICUS.) ' (STULTUS DELICATIS8IMU8.) 
 
 Among the many ^ great ' discoveries brought to light by the in- 
 quiring spirit of the age, stands first and foremost, the beautiful 
 principle, originally promulged by ourselves, individually and collec- 
 tively, that " All the world's a fish-pond, and men and women are 
 fishes." However extravagant this doctrine may appear to Naturalists 
 of the old school, and their disciples ; and however greatly it may be 
 opposed and ridiculed by these old fogies, its truthfulness and simpli- 
 city will inevitably gain it a host of strenuous advocates. When we 
 reiterate that almost proverbial assertion, of which, perhaps, we give 
 only the substance, that ridicule and persecution are the surest har- 
 bingers of success, we are but conscious of uttering the sentiment of 
 our heart ; our modesty, consequent upon genius, carries us " to this 
 extent, no more." We are so fond of history, if we exclude that of 
 our own personal self, the bare recollection of which, makes us alter- 
 
142 THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. 
 
 nately shudder and cachinate, that we cannot let slip this opportunity 
 of riding our favorite hobby, by parenthetically announcing the 
 alarming fact of our having, some where else delivered, extempora- 
 neously we remember, a glowing eulogium upon that theme, in which 
 we took occasion to assert and maintain with our wonted gravity, 
 that " the lessons it teaches," we quote from memory, " are as invalua- 
 ble to future generations, as they have been to those of the past." 
 We also spoke in very warm terms of the struggle with which truth, 
 science, and philosophy were opposed, on their upward and onward 
 course to the goal yet to be reached, and wound up with this sage 
 and epigrammatic remark, " Truth is mighty, and must prevail." Which 
 remark, distinguished as well for its originality as for its political 
 celebrity, is so apropos in these, our preliminary observations, upon 
 our own prospects and fate, and is so well adapted as an illustration of 
 what we mean to say, that we trust no farther explanation will 
 be required at our hands. Upon this head, however, before a final 
 leave, we wolild like, if possible, to declare our opinion and senti- 
 ments, by respectfully stating, that in the possession of a clear con- 
 science and a conviction of right, we are perfectly indifferent to the 
 scorn and contumely of scoffers and scullions. 
 
 Having thus given vent to some of our spleen, (of which we ac- 
 knowledge a -small supply,) we need not say we feel much more com- 
 fortable, and far better qualified to pursue ^ the even tenor of our 
 way.' We will now relieve ourself of a sentence that has been 
 fermenting and effervescing since we sat down, and which we have 
 purposely retained, as well to prevent a bilious discoloration, as to 
 add to its pungency and volume. 
 
 Time is the great judge of all doubts, the nucleus of all philosophy, 
 and the key to all discoveries. To him, for his inexhaustible stores 
 of truth and wisdom, we acknowledge publicly, a debt of undying 
 gratitude ; to such an extent indeed, that we will gladly accept him 
 as a partner in our spoils and profits. 
 
 In the absence of any other proof, we would be satisfied to rest 
 
THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON., 143 
 
 our hopes of immortality as an author, in presenting the subjects 
 of this article, illustrated from original copies in the hands of our 
 artist, as incontrovertible turning points to all doubts as to the cor- 
 rectness of our views. Let the worldly man — the man of keen 
 observation, enlarged experience, and practical wisdom, glance over 
 the expanse of the immense sea of human beings, ever agitated with 
 strifes, struggles and turmoils, constantly convulsed with storms of 
 tears, and whirlwinas of sighs — let him see the tyrant and the serf, 
 the aristocrat and the pauper, the capitalist and the laborer, and the 
 note-shaver and his victim, and well may he exclaim to the incredu- 
 lous, in the language of Hamlet, — 
 
 " There's more 'twixt heaven and earth, 
 Than is dreamed of in your philosophy." 
 
 In every sphere of life, in every trade and profession, in the circles 
 of pleasure and fashion, among the rich and the poor, within the holy 
 portals of the Church itself, and even in the professions of humanity, 
 there you will find your hungry, crafty, unmerciful and relentless 
 shark, with insatiable voracity, and piercingly riveted eye, gloating 
 over, and gorging his innocent, pliant, and unsuspecting victim, 
 whether he be a gudgeon, or a more formidable creature. There you 
 will find your gudgeon, lively, frisky, finical, ' dem foine,' and frank ; 
 glad to know you, fond of your company, will lend you his purse, 
 and mortgage his life if he can gain your friendship, esteem, or 
 sympathy. Never on guard, you see him gulped up by him whom, 
 in his innocence, he did not fear to trust ; — ^you see him, " like moths 
 attracted by glare," rush into the jaws of destruction. 
 
 While we pause for breath and inspiration, let us sigh to the tune, 
 that it was ever thus with mankind, and utter in extreme anguish, that 
 we fear it will always be so. We would drop our quill at this juncture, 
 in utter despair, verging on disgust, did not the soothing influence of 
 our piscatory philosophy, like the balm of the good Samaritan, oil and 
 lubricate our sensitiveness, we had almost said our conscience, to such 
 
244 THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. J#; 
 
 a degree indeed, that we feel called upon to again reveal our budget 
 of wisdom, by making up our minds that " it is all for the best." In 
 the language of Pope, slightly curtailed, we have concluded that, " what- 
 ever is, is." It may be necessary, after all, to the well being of the 
 world, human or brute, that rapacity, rapine, and a certain degree of 
 destructibility, should be at all times elicited. The axiom of latter- 
 day advocacy, that " all men are born equal," (true, indeed, in its pro- 
 per sense, despite the inequalities, irregularities, and discrepancies of 
 body, mind, and morals, is a favorite and popular one. ^^The gudgeon 
 clings to it with devotedness, ever " harping on his daughter," while 
 the shark sneers and chuckles over it, as he moves and acts in dis- 
 proof of it. In every element of creative matter, in light, in heat, 
 in the atmosphere, in the atomic world, or where you will, sharks 
 and gudgeons move in their respective spheres, each in their turn 
 destroying and destroyed, grasping and grasped, and acting the lion 
 and the lamb, thus fulfilling the ordinance of Nature. " Either is 
 well enough in his sphere, but neither is by any means the most 
 respectable." 
 
 If our equanimity could be for a moment disturbed — if we could 
 be " startled out of our propriety," not by a castor on the occiput of 
 George Munday (astounding enough, 'tis true), but by the more 
 amazing combination of, and coincidence of affinities, distinguishing 
 alike the habits, tastes and prejudices of both man and fish, we would, 
 like " a fish out of water," flutter, flounder, * squirm, and wiggle,' (see 
 Webster's late rainy-day Buffalo speech,) to our heart's content, and 
 puff, and gas, and blow, and explode, not with this happy conceit, 
 but with this mighty loco-motive, telegraphic-wired thought, sug- 
 gested, our modesty hints, by a mysterious accident, rather than by 
 any study, inquiry, or inventive faculty of our own. 
 
 But we are grave, solemn, and sublime ; — ^like old Joe Bagstock, 
 rough and tough, * but mighty aly^ We view the majesty and ludi- 
 crousness of our notion, with the same stern glance and darkened 
 brow, as we would the same qualities in Nature. Like a white- 
 
THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. 245 
 
 crested billow, (though we're not gray-haired,) swept to the clouds 
 by the mad winds, we have arisen, and now we are sinking, with 
 calm resignation, to our proper level in the bosom of the ocean, to be 
 lost forever to light. We feel already that we have commingled with 
 kindred drops, and we can see naught around us or above us, but our 
 own " deep, deep blue," while our great discovery, like a stormy petrel, 
 sails around our resting-place, skims its wings over the spray, and 
 seems to warn the^lready idle and sluggish waters, of storms and 
 blasts that sl»ll echo and re-echo our fame. Such are our thoughts 
 and emotions, as we brood over the injustice and persecution that 
 have followed up our track, and harrowed up our soul. The reader 
 will pardon, we hope, this manifestation of feeling, so gudgeon-like 
 on our part ; to atone for it, perhaps, we may be allowed to show our 
 sharkish humor, by rising superior to our enemies, and even our- 
 self, while lying here, supinely on our back, and plunge and splurge, 
 wickedly and fiercely in the red struggle, for existence and a name. 
 Now we're in for it. "We exultingly interrogate, " Is not our man- 
 shark mean, base, and unprincipled ; gouging, gagging, and corrupt ? 
 Is he not a coward, a desperate poltroon, devoid of moral principle, 
 quietly and noiselessly lumbering along, now alone, now in schools, 
 beneath the tide of others' fortunes, so bright and promising, ready, 
 eager and greedy for the moment, the fatal moment, to float to the 
 surface with jaws distended and glistening teeth, to seize without warn- 
 ing his unfortunate victim, and consign him, as another sacrifice, to 
 the saturnalia of vice and rapacity? Is not his scent delicate and 
 acute ? And for what ? To lead him to the harmless and unobtrud- 
 ing, whom he fears not. Where does he most frequent ? Large 
 cities and dense crowds, where " accidents will happen," and where 
 he will take advantage of them. And here, too, is our little friend the 
 gudgeon in. this shallow stream. Could there be a better picture of 
 verdancy and guilelessness ? Skittish, playful, dandified, he gleams 
 and flashes through the silver water, rippling its surface with his 
 
X46 T^^ SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. 
 
 quiet and tripping motion. Frank and frolicksome, he stops at every 
 shiny or tinsel spot, gratifies an idle curiosity, listens to the Syren's 
 voice, dallies with the allurement, and lo ! ere he knows his danger, the 
 shark of his sphere, concealed in ambush, has made quick work of 
 him. Were it possible, we might grow very, very vain, even at this 
 early stage of the picture, with the parallel we have thus drawn ; but 
 vanity, we know not, save the " all-is-vanity" of the preacher. It 
 has escaped from us, " unwhipped of justice." ^r lucubrations have 
 afibrded us so much gratification, and given us so much strength, 
 that we now feel like uttering that oft^repeated wish of ours for the 
 return of the golden age. We have lived through that period in 
 dreams and reveries, tasted the " milk and honey" of its Paradise, 
 and have watched despondingly through the vista of " castles in the 
 air," the rich, mellow, and gorgeous alchemy and purple, sink softly, 
 slowly, and gently into darkness and gloom, 
 
 " Like the baseless fabric of a vision." 
 
 The poets have sung of that happy time, so like a " burning Sappho," 
 that we will not " tangle their sweet bells" with the harmony of 
 our discord. In those days, * sharks and gudgeons' were mighty 
 scarce articles. Fraud, rapine, and injustice, was a " tale un- 
 folded." Social, political, moral, and national reforms, industrial 
 and peace congresses, and vanity fairs, and World's Fairs, would 
 then have been mysteries. War, cannon-mouthed war, battles, 
 sieges, and hair-breadth " scapes," Bufialo hunts, Cuba expeditions, 
 and " fliebusteros," would have come like an earthquake. ' Church 
 and State,' the ^ schism of the churches,' the * battle of the churches,' 
 Papal aggressions and * church burning,' would have * grated harsh 
 thunder' in the shrine of religion, and have driven her divinity to the 
 sanctuary of some " Sacred Grove." Landed aristocracies, pauper 
 systems, monopolies, Disunion, Secession, State rights, Hartford and 
 
THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. 147 
 
 Nashville Con \'cnt ions, political intrigue and mendacity, lobbying 
 and log-rolling, wire-working and pipe-laying, would have challenged 
 the most distorted imagination. Faro-tables, ' fighting the tiger,' 
 Peter Funks, humbuggery,vice, misery and crime, would have puzzled 
 the most astute. With the exodus of pristine simplicity and grandeur, 
 with the dying embers of a golden morality, is ushered in, like 
 awakening from our dream, the luxury and voluptuousness of an era 
 of civilization and refinement, with their concomitant train of guile, 
 vice and misery. 
 
 The flood-gates are opened — the sea of troubles in torrents pursues 
 its impetuous course, carrying destruction in its path, burying in ob- 
 livion the gold of that age, and leaving us nothing but the dross. 
 The shark, let loose, rejoices and exults in the boiling foam, and on — 
 on he goes, with the stream of life, corrupting, polluting, and sliming 
 its waters with his infectious poison. 
 
 Where are the gudgeons and the small fry ? Where, but in the 
 heart of danger ? They are not afraid of sharks — they are diminu- 
 tive, they are harmless and inofiensive. So they think, and what's 
 more, they are "smart" — they "know the ropes," — they can't be 
 fooled : — very good. 'Tis true they're smart, very smart in the eye 
 of their merciless pursuer. He knows it — ^why, he knew it at the 
 first glance, and so does he at the last one ! Foolish, flippant, * green' 
 gudgeon, wilt thou ever be thus ? We are no gudgeon — at least we 
 think so, yet we will answer for him afiirmatively. Greenhorns and 
 " angels" must move, live, and have their being, so long as a spark of 
 humanity scintillates. 
 
 We are now going to close the Sybil volume ; slowly, dreamingly, 
 and solemnly we pronounce its parting words, — 
 
 " Man's inhumanity to man, 
 Makes countless millions mourn !" 
 
 Involuntarily we drop a tear. Would it could wash our sins away ! 
 
 19 
 
148 THE SHARK AND THE GUDGEON. 
 
 As to our philosophy, we feel we must allude to it in parting; we 
 wish it a ' pleasant' time. When we shall have been ranked among 
 the Bacons, Newtons, and Linnaeus' of the age, our readers shall hear 
 from us again. 
 
 In the meantime, we will trust, Avith becoming gravity, that we 
 have made ourself perfectly intelligible in our endeavor neither 
 " to bury Caesar, nor to praise him !" 
 
 . C. F. E. 
 
Zitk iKcoiau bf£oszft,tk(illK''<f' 
 
 ST'.lM)ii, iPI-aEffl.^" 
 
THE STOOL PIGEON. 
 
 , , ,, . < (esca decipuli-hominis.) ' ^ 
 
 Why it is that there are so many different species of the same 
 genus of birds, and animals, and fishes, and men, we are at a loss to 
 comprehend. Our reading, in many particulars and more generals 
 being very limited, places us in the condition of one unlearned in 
 many subjects, as we now propose to demonstrate to be the fact, in 
 the subject of Ornithology. This we do know, having in our early days 
 been required to "do" all the chapters of the Old and New Testament 
 seriatim, that somewhere it is stated that Noah t©ok "every bird of 
 every sort," " two and two of all flesh," into the Ark with him. That 
 is Noah took in-two the Ark, two birds of every sort. This having 
 been accomplished we presume, they all came out again ; and it 
 appears, from the present state of the American ornithology, a great 
 many more came out than went in. To account for this singular fact, 
 we are at a loss ; but it can no doubt be fully explained in the last 
 edition of Mr. Figure's arithmetic, under the caption Multiplication. 
 There we leave the solution of this abstruse mathematical problem. 
 
150 THE STOOL PIGEON. 
 
 Certain it is, that if our view of the scientific history of birds be 
 true, we don't care what Audubon says or Wilson narrates, [we 
 rather like Wilson tho', and guess he knew all about birds] — among 
 the birds in the Ark was at least one Stool Pigeon. We are led to this 
 belief from the fact, that Noah sent one bird away to look after the 
 dry land, a sort of official spy — whose duty it was to find out quietly 
 what was going on, hear and see all that was to be heard and seen, 
 and bring back "^Ae news" to the "old 'un." Now this duty, thus 
 assigned by the Cliief of Police of the Ark to this bird, thus sent away, 
 leads us to believe, as we have already said, that this bird was a Stool 
 Pigeon. We know it is asserted, that the proper designation of the 
 bird in question is a Dove. But then the name " dove " may have 
 been as inaptly applied to this messenger of Noah, as it is to the 
 "Lark" of a husband, going out after tea, saluted by his "better 
 half," " Dove, Dovy-dear, be home soon?" And when this "Lark" of 
 a husband, does came home earlier than soon, to be again addressed 
 by the same better half with, " You Dog, you, drunk again !" Now it 
 can hardly be presumed that the animal man — species, husband — 
 genus, homo, can be properly, according to the theory of Natural His- 
 tory, individualized under the nomenclature of " Larh" and "Dog" 
 one being a biped, the other a quadruped. 
 
 We say then, that probably the term "Dove" was improperly 
 applied to the Stool Pigeon — and that the messenger of the old 'un 
 was in truth and in fact, a Stool Pigeon. 
 
 There is not very much reliance or faith to be put in names after 
 all. We remember some twenty-five years ago having read that " A 
 rose by any other name would smell as sweet ;" and in the simplicity of 
 our heart, experimenting upon the theory, called the assafoetida bottle 
 " a rose," and finding it didn't smell as sweet, thenceforward had a 
 fixed opinion about names. There is not much in names after all. 
 In the early days of the Flood, we doubt whether Noah did Jcnow-a-gresit 
 deal about Ornithology or names either — what horrid names he gave 
 his children — only because there were so few to choose from. 
 
THE STOOL PIGEON. 151 
 
 All things taken into consideration, we are still led to believe, 
 indeed it now amounts to conviction in our minds, that this bird, sent 
 by the Chief of the Police of the Ark, and in fact of the world, for all 
 the world was in the Ark, except what was under water, was a stool 
 jpigeon. ' . 
 
 It is a subject of regret, that just before that Flood did come, some- 
 body, either Shem or Ham, did not pack up a few volumes of the 
 Natural History of those days, just by way of reference to settle these 
 disputed questions, if nothing else. To hear a man, called " a 
 pigeon" one day, " a lark " the next, an " old cock " the next, is very 
 puzzling to the ordinary comprehension. Very. Let us suppose in 
 after times, for example, when that great volcanic erruption which is 
 spoken of, is " done, and been, and gone," folks find one of Stephens' 
 Natural History, in some patent asbestos fire proof chest, among the 
 ashes of poor dear old Philadelphia, what amazing difficulty the 
 Ornithologists of those days will have, to trace the resemblance 
 between the "birds" of those days and these days. It is a pity 
 Shem didn't think of it, a great pity — as to Ham, he wasn't up to it 
 nohow — he was a flat, a spooney, for out of derision he has been always 
 associated with greens, " Bacon and Greens" down to this very hour. 
 
 For the highly satisfactory reasons already given, we are prepared 
 to announce that Noah's dove was really a stool pigeon. There may 
 be some people living, of an advanced age, and highly respectable — 
 some among the lipe scholaas of the day, who learn Encyclopedias by 
 heart, look pale, wear seedy habiliments, and talk dictionary, who 
 will not agree with us. Ripe scholars — called ripe, because the 
 greenness of their youth has been mellowed by the many suns of 
 their meridian years — who will positively deny our conclusion — and 
 proclaim that the bird icas a dove. Notwithstanding their assertions, 
 we are of the same opinion still. Stool pigeon, we say — stool pigeon ; 
 there's no use in talking. 
 
 Those who are acquainted with that important function of civil 
 government, or rather municipal government; or familiar with the still 
 
152 T*l^ STOOL PIGEON. 
 
 more important functionary of that department, classed under the 
 general caption of " tJw Detective Police,'' must be aware, that to effect 
 objects, there must be certain means used, as well as certain and 
 uncertain ways. We all have heard of " Committees of Ways and 
 Means." This idea of ways and means is a feature in all departments 
 of civil organization ; so in Police affairs, there are ways and means. 
 One of these means in the Detective Policcj is to find out what is to 
 be detected. It is a truism, as great in police business as well as in 
 the culinary business. In the latter, for example, it is a first principle 
 of the Epicurean art, that before you cook the fish you must catch 
 him. So in the former, before you catch the thief, you must know 
 where he is to be caught. In old times, they used to run after a 
 thief and cry, * stop him' — but times are changed. Its no use to run 
 now, for a thief can run too ; and always does run, it is strange to say. 
 Its a sort of politico-practice. We hear one man runs for Governor, 
 another runs for Congress, another runs for Constable, and another 
 runs away from the constable, and runs fot" the Penitentiary. The 
 percentage of each class who are successful in getting where they run 
 for, is about the same — unfortunately. 
 
 In order then to catch the thief it is important, as we have proved, 
 to know where he is. It is no use to run — and it is more difficult to 
 jump, at a conclusion as to his exact locality; so a pigeon is employed 
 to find out, on the same principle, and course of action, which Noah 
 suggested and practised upon, when he sent his pigeon to find out the 
 dry land, or as we translate it, to spy out the land. 
 
 A " stool pigeon," is a spy of the police. His duty is to find out all 
 matters and things in regard to any particular " knock," or " clye- 
 faker," " screwsman " or " cracksman," " stufier " or " crossman," 
 " fence" or " gonnoff," and report all such information or " news " or 
 any thing " that's out " in general, to the chief of police who is 
 called " the old-un," or to any particular " copper " or " pig " belonging 
 to the staff of the chief. 
 
 This bird must be able to get on each particular " lay," know all 
 
THE STOOL PIGEON. I53 
 
 the " stalls " — be up to any " dodge/' ready for every " double," apt 
 at a "spot," and "leary" at a "pull," "shady" at a "blow," and 
 unerring at a "pipe," "down" upon a "plant," certain as to the 
 "swag," know a " Thimble," from a " Peter'' or " dummy," and the 
 " kickes clye" from the " pit," and take a " tip " when " all's right," 
 not always " lagg," the crossman or put him in " quay." Now a man 
 to do all this must be " a Inrdr 
 
 If he is a bird, he was surely in the Ark, and if he was in the Ark, 
 Noah must have used him to " spot " the land — for it was in search 
 of a spot of land this bird was sent away. Now, it don't matter 
 whether he was called a Dove or not, he was to all intents and 
 purposes Noah's stool pigeon. We hope after this, to hear no more 
 objection to the " Stool Pigeon system," which has of late agonized 
 the pure in heart, in the absence of further moanings over the 
 benighted heathen, the Magdalen Asylum, and other sinners. If old 
 Noah approved and sanctioned this "Stool Pigeon system," why 
 that's at least high and ancient authority. We wish old Wilson and 
 Audubon were alive to read this chapter, how they would open their 
 eyes. Even Dr. Goldsmith would be amazed at the wonderful 
 progress in the science of bird-ology. 
 
 We think even honest " George Warrington," and dashing " Captain 
 Shandon," of the " Pall Mall Gazette," would be satisfied at the 
 admirable manner we have dashed off this article. Don't nobody 
 want a sub-editor? 
 
 We have described but one specimen of the species stool pigeon ; 
 like all other subjects of natural history there are other specimens of 
 the same genus. 
 
 In large cities, there are all sorts of places, ins and outs, ups and 
 downs, churches, court houses, play houses, poor houses, jails, hot 
 houses, beer houses, hose houses, &c. &c. Among the various places 
 not yet mentioned, there are those called Hells I Now a hell-on- 
 earth is a metaphor and a reality — a man who has a bald-headed, 
 cross-eyed, toothless, loquacious, scolding, abusive, vexatious, vicious. 
 
154 THESTOOLPIGEON. 
 
 worthless, drunken wife, with nine small children, and one at the breast, 
 is said by way of metaplior, to live in a hell upon earth." If there are 
 many of that sort in fotlier place, why then it is rather a hot location, 
 for ordinary human nature. 
 
 But if you go to a magnificent saloon, richly furnished, mirrors, 
 curtains, cushions, arm-chairs, lounges, sofas, cigars. Cognac, lobster 
 salads, fried oysters, champagne, gas-lights, and them papers, and lose 
 all your money, why that's called " a hell," in reality. 
 
 Now it must be self-evident, that if you don't know where this last 
 kind of hell is located, you can't get there — on the principle of the 
 fish and the thief. In order to enlighten the minds of the ignorant 
 as to the place, those whose interest it is to find customers, employ 
 stool pigeons to hunt out the way. 
 
 It is said of the carrier pigeon, that its instinct is so great, that if 
 you keep one a long time, feed it well, and let it out, it will come 
 back. This stool pigeon has the same characteristic when let loose 
 on the town. Falling in with a green one, or a country man, or a swell, 
 or an only son with plenty of the dust, or a returned gold digger, or 
 a lucky chap with a lottery prize in his pocket — rare specimen in that 
 time — or a clerk on pay day, or a bank director on discount day — 
 this pigeon will convey them right to the spot. Just about that 
 time the pigeon is both hungry and thirsty, and so he goes back 
 naturally, and takes "his friend" — -just out of kindness, no harm 
 meant. The result is, that the friend and not the pigeon, loses his 
 feathers. We rather reckon there wasn't none of them kind in the 
 Ark — unless it was that Dove, that gamboled away on that spot of 
 dry land, and won a leaf. It must have gamboled, and won that 
 leaf, for this pigeon came back with a-bet-ter account than was 
 expected — it made a "raise" at "low water," and was the only 
 ^'outsider" at that. 
 
 The reader, on an examination of the portrait of the "stool 
 pigeon," will probably be anxious to learn in which of the characters 
 we have drawn, the other artist has represented him. In answer to 
 
THE STOOL PIGEON. ^55 
 
 SO sensible a question, we beg leave most seriously to reply, in that 
 good old fashioned Anglo-saxon phrase, which is both sententious and 
 expressive — ^ We don't know.' How should we know, why should we 
 know, what's the use of knowing? We have done our part, the 
 artist has done his. It is not to be expected, that "Mr. Pencil" and 
 " Mr. Pen," have both the same ideas. Let the reader examine for 
 himself, and decide for himself — and if he arrives at the conclusion 
 that the pigeon is a dove, or the dove is a pigeon, or the drawing is 
 neither one nor the other, or is something else, or ain't anything at all, 
 or is only a man on a stool, or whatever he may desire to think it is, 
 why, what's the difference ? We can't help it, we have tried all in 
 our power to enlighten Mr. Reader — and if he can't be enlightened, 
 it is his own fault. 
 
 Now, let us be distinctly understood, we say it is a stool pigeon — 
 of one class or the other — whichever it may be thought most to 
 resemble. In its habits the stool pigeon resembles the common pigeon. 
 It is neither ferae naturae nor tame ; it gets its living on the street ; 
 will eat out of your hand ; is sometimes fastened up and at other 
 times flies-a-round ; generally is found in communities, rarely in 
 isolation. Its longevity is unknown, and the first instance recorded 
 of immortality is to be found in our Natural History, title, * Stool 
 Pigeon,' p. 149. 
 
 V. 
 
 20 
 
■^jff*^ 
 
h'TW^iiAM^ mm:. 
 
 ^^ 
 
THE LITERARY BIRD. 
 
 (literator mathewsii.) . 
 
 Next, perhaps, to the American or War Eagle, the Secretary Bird 
 attracts the most attention. His approach is always duly heralded 
 by the Trumpeter Bird — a congener of the Secretary — and when the 
 latter appears, all the intellectual part of mankind, and womankind 
 also, all that possess feeling and fancy, are on the qui vive to ascertain 
 in what new guise he will exhibit himself, for he has as many 
 changes of dress as a lady of fashion, of as various tints as the rain- 
 bow, and never by any chance wears the same garb twice. Should 
 he be a fine specimen of the species, his appearance will always 
 create delight and surprise; for, while you are straining your eyes 
 to see him in one quarter, lo, he suddenly pops up in the opposite 
 direction. 
 
 This peculiarity of the Secretary is very annoying, and incompre- 
 hensible to plodders and dullards, who are always disturbed at anything 
 
158 T^^ LITERARY BIRD. 
 
 beyond their comprehension ; and so, when the true Literary Bird 
 appears upon the horizon, the old Fogies join in a prolonged and doleful 
 hoot. When, however, a steady going Dodo, a heavy-sterned Goose or 
 quacking Duck, slowly looms up and waddles over his well-known 
 course, they fall into raptures of very solemn admiration, at what 
 they term the grace and classic elegance of the poor bird. In fact, 
 every awkward flight of a full-bottomed Dodo is deemed a clief 
 cCoeuvre. Should the Dodo, however, be betrayed into the sleepiest 
 kind of vivacity, or give one semi life-like flap of his heavy wings, 
 these very wise gentry immediately denounce the bird as an impostor 
 and a lunatic, whom they cannot understand. This class all hate 
 the Secretary Bird, as much as they worship the Dodo; and indeed, 
 it is quite natural that they should, for the most prominent pecu- 
 liarity of his disposition is an invincible hatred of, and repugnance to, 
 all of the toad and reptile species. 
 
 A class of mere Cockney sportsmen. High Priests of Dodo worship 
 — frequently getting boozy upon small beer and stale swipes, clap 
 on their fustian jackets, and seizing their pop-guns and squirts, rush 
 out to hunt the Secretary ; but by overloading their weapons, or 
 indiscreet haste in pursuit, invariably trip and fall flat in the mud, 
 while our friend the Secretary quietly pursues his way without 
 troubling himself to pay any respect to their prone carcasses. These 
 Cockneys, however, make a good, if not decent, thing out of hunt- 
 ing the Secretary; for by going about and denouncing him as the enemy 
 of Small Beer, and promising to bring him in by-and-by entirely 
 demolished, or mortally wounded, to be tried by a grand inquest of 
 all Cockneydon, they obtain credit at certain Public and Pot-houses, 
 and thus support their families. 
 
 These sporting gents employ many a riLse-de-guerre to steal a 
 
 ^ march upon our favorite bird. They change their style of dress — 
 
 come out at one time "made up" as conductors of newspapers — but 
 
 so vituperative and slangy, as to frighten all decent people away 
 
 from them ; at others, in the disguise of a magazine editor, although 
 
THE LITERARY BIRD. 159 
 
 a certain intolerable odor hanging around them, proclaims their 
 true occupation to be that of nigh1>men. Others again, go around 
 soliciting charity to support them while on their hunting excursions, 
 always crying out about some late lamented brother, and telling or 
 whining about their babies. 
 
 But our bird is too many for them all by a long shot; and the 
 proof is, that although they have discharged their pieces thousands 
 of times at him, they have not yet succeeded in ruffling a feather. 
 These Cockney sportsmen are usually left to go by themselves, 
 although they sometimes — by the promise of a pt)t of beer — entice a 
 native yokel or bumpkin to accompany them as guide, but before the 
 hunt is over, they uniformly lead their cronies into a mud puddle 
 up to their neck, and often leave them there. 
 
 The stories these fellows tell about the Secretary are very amusing. 
 They pretend to a perfect acquaintance with his natural history ; to 
 know where he sprung from; the year, day, and minute of his birth; 
 the number of his eggs ; the times he has shed his feathers ; and the 
 genealogy and circumstances of his friends and acquaintances. 
 
 I fear that but little dependence could be placed upon Natural 
 History, did all writers upon the subject tell such shocking " Mun- 
 chausens," as do the enemies of the Literary Bird. Heavens ! how 
 they will fib. They pretend that he is old and feeble, while he is 
 young and vigorous ; they assert that he is an ill-favored bird, which 
 any one who looks upon his portrait may see is untrue. 
 
 At other times they assert that the Secretary is ill tempered and 
 misanthropic, while a greater fiction could scarcely be perpetrated ; 
 since of all the birds that frequent our continent there is none of a 
 more kindly disposition than he ; none more ready to do a good turn 
 to any other bird, even to a disabled Dodo, lame Duck, or too-closely 
 plucked Goose — however much in their day of prosperity he may shun 
 such society. Whether the bird be domestic or foreign, wild or 
 tame, it is all one to him, if it be in his power to aid them. He is 
 a determined enemy of oppression in all its phases, strongly attached 
 
IgO THE LITERARY BIRD. 
 
 to his native soil, ready to battle for it on all occasions, and 
 never happier than when flying beneath the shelter of her starry 
 banner, when some fresh breeze shall have spread it out to its 
 fullest extent, and waved and flashed its glittering stars to and fro, 
 to the manifest fear of tyrants and enemies of freedom. Wherever 
 this banner shades and shelters, the Secretary flies with equal ease 
 and pleasure, be it north or south, east or west — the climate of 
 Massachausetts is not too cold, nor that of South Carolina too 
 hot for him. 
 
 Would the enemies of our bird but imitate his example in place 
 of spending their time in abuse of him and his flights, the Literary 
 Zoology of our country would speedily become more respectable and 
 respected. : ■ ' , . ; ■ ' > 
 
\ 
 
 m.I€IE'S CE(0)Wo 
 
 lUdk tft cd^nfyrRoi:^-'^ ■ ^ 
 
 D ^ \i>vy 
 
THE RICE CROW. 
 
 (CORVUS TURNABOUTII.) 
 
 In the course of our duties, we now present to our readers a life-like 
 representation, and, as far as we have warrant, a truthful history of 
 the "jRice Oraw." Many countries, and even sections of countries, 
 boast of productions peculiarly their own, whether of a vegetable, 
 mineral, or animal substance, and take some notoriety to themselves 
 for this exclusive privilege. We of the city of Brotherly Love, lay 
 claim to the Star Fish and Giraffe, described in our first number, y\ 
 
 and our sister city. New York, boasts the production of the " rara 
 avis" we are now treating of 
 
 Neither the Rice Crow, nor any of its species, were held in much 
 repute, till within the last twenty years; their general appearance being 
 rather repulsive than otherwise, and the sounds they utter, ofiensive 
 to the ear ; besides which, their gloomy aspect would infer that they 
 sought not for bright results, but looked on the black side of every- 
 thing. However, as faith removes mountains of doubt, so fashion 
 
162 
 
 THE RICE CROW. 
 
 will remove the rocks of objection and distaste ; thus it proved with 
 the subject of our sketch, who, like Lord Byron, went humbly to his 
 roost one night, and waking in the morning, finding himself to be a 
 great bird, did nothing but dance and crow for years after. We have 
 often been present when these saltatorial and vocal fits were on, and 
 in the simplicity of our hearts have felt alarmed for its health and 
 safety, for it would dance and crow with such fury that it was per- 
 fectly " black in the face." Upon first beholding these exploits, we 
 intimated our anxiety to a friend, who laughed at our verdancy, and 
 posted us regularly up in its general history as follows : 
 
 The original Rice Crow is of large size — ^the tones of its voice 
 rather agreeable than otherwise, although resembling very closely the 
 sounds peculiar to the natives of Africa ; it is very active, and like 
 the Magpie and Parrot, learns words and songs with wonderful accu- 
 racy; the most remarkable circumstance connected with it, is its 
 Chameleon-like property of changing from white to black, which tran- 
 sition almost invariably takes place at night, when in pursuit of food ; 
 this change is so sudden and complete, as to almost defy recognition. 
 It chiefly locates in cities, as more can be picked up in them than in 
 the country ; in this respect it differs materially from the Field Crow ; 
 the latter commits its depredations on the pockets of the Farmer, the 
 former on those of the Merchant, Lawyer, and Mechanic, who smile 
 all the time, and in their ecstacy call him a perfect " Jem Crow." 
 When at the meridian of its popularity, it was very flighty — not in 
 the head — and ventured to cross the Atlantic. Its sudden appear- 
 ance there, caused general excitement among the Anglo-Saxon race, 
 who once more became wild, — a fact which Macaulay will have to 
 chronicle, if ever his history should reach that date, which of itself, 
 will prove as great an era. They ran after it, go where it would, scorn- 
 ing the vulgar and obsolete notion of sprinkling salt upon its steering 
 apparatus, they threw gold and silver in abundance; nay, even crowns, 
 were freely offered, but like republican Caesar, he seized upon their j 
 sovereigns, yet he scorned their crowns, for on old Neptune's bosom] 
 
 •« Jl 
 
THE RICE CROW. 163 
 
 often has he waved them back. On his return to our midst, no dif- 
 ference was Dbserved in his habits or manners, but in its plumage 
 there was considerable change, silver and gold being the most strik- 
 ing colors. There is one peculiar power it possesses, which we have 
 reserved for the substance of our concluding remarks — we allude to 
 an entirely unconscious method of propagation. Wherever it has 
 been, numbers of the same form and color have risen up, " phoenix 
 like, by Jove," but destitute of those qualifications which character- 
 ized their great original ; yet still, at first, as if from a spirit of kind 
 remembrance towards the fountain-head, the streams were permitted 
 to flow, till at length they began to swell with such power, that their 
 former course was changed, and many became so impure with the 
 numerous polluted springs with which they mixed, that passing un- 
 heeded by, they hurried onward to the waters of oblivion, leaving 
 behind them but a feeble remembrance that such things once were. 
 In short, the nature of the species seems changed, for an overwhelm- 
 ing majority of them now prey upon Tailors, Boot-makers, and 
 Boarding-house keepers, as if the repeated process of changing color 
 had made it also necessary to " cork up" the kindlier feelings of the 
 heart, and "hawk" about for misrule, riot, and indecency to supply 
 their places. There are some specimens of the genuine, not so spotted 
 or blemished, but they are rare, and difficult to meet with ; still, were 
 it not for these, few, a war of extermination would inevitably take 
 place. 
 
 We take leave of our subject with as much regret as in parting 
 from a dear friend, whom we may never meet again ; the sweetness 
 of the pleasures he has often caused us, are now embittered with the 
 stern reality that he is falling into " the sear and yellow leaf." The 
 flight of the Rice Crow up the tree of life is nearly completed, in a 
 little time he will have made the last bough {bow). May his next 
 flight be in that ethereal atmosphere to which his numerous virtues 
 entitle him to ascend ; and whenever that event takes place, the 
 
 21 
 
164 T^^ RICE CROW. 
 
 esteem of thousands will follow him, and his memory be cherished 
 while their lives continue. With him, the spirit of Negromancy will 
 depart, even as through him it came in ; minstrels may harmonize in 
 vain, all attempts at resuscitation will be useless ; the glory will have 
 departed ! 
 
 : * - T. McK. 
 
 P. S. The foregoing may not give equal satisfaction to all our 
 readers ; some few, no doubt, would have preferred its omission alto- 
 gether ; but as Naturalists, we have a duty to perform to the rising, 
 as well as the present generation, and that duty were but poorly per- 
 formed, had any one opened our volume when finished, and proved to 
 us that we had been guilty of "jumping Jim Crow." 
 
Litk i-n c-olors Ij" Ttostnlkal i- ?rr.vrr,ir 
 
 BIRD OF FAIRABISIE 
 
BIED OF PARADISE. 
 
 (PARADISEA STJPERBA.) " 
 
 According to M. Lesson, these " are birds of passage, changing 
 their quarters according to the monsoons. The females congregate 
 in troupes, assemble upon the highest trees, and all cry together, to 
 call the males." 
 
 Bennet in his " Wanderings," says of the Paradisea Apoda : — 
 " This elegant creature has light, playful and graceful manners, with 
 an arch look ; dances about when a visitor approaches, and seems 
 delighted at being made an object of admiration." 
 
 We quote the above to show how very limited have been the obser- 
 vations of Naturalists, upon the habits and peculiarities of this in- 
 teresting member of our family. There are many traits which must 
 have entirely escaped the notice of Buffon and Linnasus. These gen- 
 tlemen confined their investigations to the country — we think cities 
 afford the best opportunities for observing the habits of this beautiful 
 creature. There we find specimens in the greatest variety, from the 
 favorite of the Sahn, to the domesticated bird that sits perched at the 
 window of her magnificent cage, without any disposition to escape, 
 seeming very well contented with captivity. 
 
 The young birds have very uninteresting habits until entirely away 
 
166 THE BIRD OF PARADISE. 
 
 from care and guardianship of the parent bird. After they have 
 become fully developed, the sexes are judiciously separated ; and, 
 consequently, there grows up, with the females, a coquettish distrust of 
 the other sex, which cannot easily be removed or overcome. This 
 produces a diffidence in their flights, which prevents an entire display 
 of the various graceful movements for which they become afterwards 
 celebrated. 
 
 The most effectual means to counteract the evils of this course of 
 taming, has been found to result from the following ingenious method. 
 The male birds prepare large and brilliant cages of enormous dimen- 
 sions, to which they invite, by bill-ets, the most lovely and charming 
 of the other sex. These gatherings take place at night, and are di- 
 versified by music, hopping, wheeling, pirouetting, and perching — 
 similiar to the feats of smaller birds on Valentine's Day. Two or 
 three gatherings of this kind are discovered to have removed all the 
 bashful timidity of the young female bird, and she may then be fre- 
 quently seen " billing and cooing" on her own hook, or perch, as she 
 rests from the fatigue of a Polka or Quadrille. 
 
 It is at this interesting epoch in the history of the Paradisea, that 
 our artist has taken the picture that is the subject of this article. 
 This is considered a very fair specimen of the species to be seen in 
 Chestnut street, or Broadway, at all seasons. Her movement, as she 
 flits along the promenade, attracts general observation. Characterised 
 by every grace, her flight is an exquisite performance of what other- 
 wise might be considered ideal — being the " very poetry of motion." 
 Taking her features separately she would be a native of every land 
 where beauty dwells. Her eyes have all the depth and expression 
 of an Italian Improvisatrice — all the sentiment and devotion of a 
 Corregio Magdalen. Her brow is like twilight — lingering beneath 
 the night that hides among her raven tresses. Her mouth is beyond 
 all art, or imitation — the lips, scarce parted, look as if moulded to 
 their present beauty by the music of her charming song, as though 
 an angel, passing while she sung, had exorcised all evil thoughts, and 
 left her sacred to the melody of heavenly sounds. Her bust is 
 
THE BIRD OF PARADISE. IQJ 
 
 magnificently grand — moving beneath the proud and graceful crest 
 like a statued Juno, flecked with moonlight. Her hands and arms 
 are more beautiful in their motion than the scarf of Zephyrus, and 
 play before her plumage like fhe twins of flame which burn in the 
 torches borne before Aurora. Her plumage falls from her shoulders 
 like clouds that vanish into the bow of Iris. Her feet are captivating, 
 and are the distinguishing marks of her superiority — for the real bird of 
 Paradise has the smallest foot, the most flexible instep, and the most 
 elegantly turned ancle, of any or all birds that fly. There are fears 
 entertained, however, at present, that more than the foot must be 
 exhibited on the promenade. There has been a remarkable, and entire 
 change in bird costume, introduced by the Bloomer-Bird. It is an 
 invention to curtail the fair proportions of the lower plumage. By 
 this fashion all birds will be nearly deprived of the flowing tail which 
 has for so long a period graced our " beau ideal" of Bird-dress. This 
 is to be lamented, as there is a probability that our birds may become 
 turkeys, and look rather like harem-scarems ! Such a costume would 
 do very well for water-fowl, but rather obnoxious to land-birds, 
 excepting in cases of trailing among the " high grass." It is true 
 that our birds of Paradise migrate in warm seasons, and often frequent 
 watering places, but the usual feathers for such places will turn water 
 as well as Turkey-pants or Bloomer-down ! 
 
 Among the peculiarities of our birds of Paradise, is the habit they 
 have of roosting in daylight. One of their favorite roosting places is 
 the Art Union Gallery. Here they may bo seen in great numbers, 
 perched before the pictures that include some specimens of our favorite 
 Canvas-back Duck. It is not believed that this spot will continue to 
 be the favorite resort, however, for the Paradisea. Its habits, of 
 changing according to the monsoons, render it very probable that they 
 maybe induced to change according to the monsieurs, and therefore take 
 their flight to those haunts where the handsomest of the other sex 
 generally congregate — Coney Island, Rockaway, Newport, Cape May, 
 Long Branch, or Schooley's Mountain. 
 
 They have already set apart one day in seven, for a general roost 
 
 
1(38 THE BIRD OF PARADISE. 
 
 at the large cages that beautify our cities, where they perch in great 
 numbers, observing a decorous silence, and listen to the Bishop- 
 bird, who descants upon the follies of the age. This is one of their 
 most commendable habits, but rather dangerous, as it affords a fine 
 opportunity for Hawks to assemble, and select their favorite prey 
 when the birds are dispersing. 
 
 The most beautiful habits of our bird may be observed at the Opera, 
 or the Soiree Musicale. There they put on their most enchanting 
 manners, and most bewitching costume. The heavy top-knot of their 
 street plumage is then thrown aside, and the glossy plumage of their 
 crests falls about their arched necks like the leaves and tendrils on 
 the thyrsis of Bachantes. There is no plumage that equals Opera-dress 
 for display. It sets off every charm, and makes the Opera the most 
 delightful rendezvous of society. Here is an opportunity for the 
 beautiful exercise of the fan, and the opera-glass. Military tactics 
 have no motion in their manual that can vie with the direct " present 
 arms" of the opera-glass. It fetches every one ; and it has been asserted 
 that an experienced Bird of Paradise can " spot" a moustache, or 
 military button, at the furthest corner of the boxes. 
 
 There is a belief that the Paradisea, after its earthly career, takes 
 a returning flight to the Garden of Eden, and that by good conduct 
 here is allowed the privilege of carrying one of the male birds along. 
 Now, our most ardent wish is to be one of the selected number ! We 
 have an idea, that a passage to that sacred place, wound about in the 
 pinions of one of these fair creatures, would beOrather preferable to a 
 balloon ascension on horseback, or on Pusey's Eagle. In anticipation 
 of such an event, we have been securing all the goose-quills and 
 swansdown in the market, so as to be prepared for an early flight. 
 We have engaged Mrs. Partington to write our valedictory for the 
 occa^on, and are now making preparations for the service of several 
 crows, to act as Moore-ners at our departure, and have secured the 
 Swedish Nightingale to chant the ascending anthem to the memory 
 and virtues of 
 
 Cock Robin. 
 
ZUk in^cdlorf 6/- iascnthal L Kr<um,er. 
 
 MASONIC TIBK,RAFIM, 
 
.THE MASONIC TERRAPIN. 
 
 (OBSTETRIX AUCTORUM.) 
 
 When the artist presented for our inspection, the drawing of the 
 Masonic Terrapin, we were sorely oppressed with " a confluence of 
 ideas on the brain." It was almost an ideal-apoplexy : not however 
 of that sort which is produced by eating terrapins. We lost all 
 consciousness. Phantoms of Morganised turtles — Masonic suppers — 
 free blows — champagne and cigars — songs and stories : — wit and 
 whiskey — wine and watchmen — dyspepsia and diarrhoeticks passed 
 before our vision, with funereal slowness and solemnity. It was long 
 before we returned to a sense of actual vitality. Gazing on the 
 picture, dreaming of the vision, the first impression that took the form 
 of thought was to audibly inquire, if all these things belonged to the 
 ^* Family Robinson" — an indignant No from our publisher, startled us 
 into our propriety. Then it was we discovered the great resemblance 
 between a free mason and a free terrapin. It is in their shut-up- 
 
 f 
 
270 THE MASONIC TERRAPIN. 
 
 iveness. Ask a Mason his secret, touch him with an interrogatory, 
 and he shuts-up, mum as a mummy. Touch a free terrapin as he is 
 going quietly into his lodge on the sea-shore, to ask him when he 
 will be ready for supper — and he shuts-up just like the Mason. The 
 ancient York Mason, and the York cove oyster, and the York bay 
 terrapin, must have some astounding secrets among themselves; 
 when any do come out, won't the people gulp them down, secrets and 
 shell-fish — ^which will go down the best, depends very much on how 
 they are " cooked up." A secret on a chafing-dish, is a novelty — 
 although the Masons do talk a great deal about their secrets on the 
 "gridiron." It is about as easy for one to be "done brown," on 
 either utensil. 
 
 There is a marked resemblance between the turtle and the Mason : 
 as we have shown — ^but we think the verisimilitude is liable to be 
 yet further extended. There are as we know, mock turtles, snapping 
 turtles, green turtles, and land turtles : so with the Masons — but the 
 green Masons predominate over the snappers, and the mock Masons 
 are scarce. The only aqueous specimen we ever heard of, was the 
 one that mysteriously found its way into Niagara : this must have 
 been a female specimen — of rather doubtful reputation — we never 
 knew her consort, and she had a large family. Out of respect to 
 so delicate a relation in life, her offspring always called her aunty- 
 Mason. 
 
 We have thrown, all the 4ight of Masonry,' or rather terrapinic 
 Masonry, in our power ; if more is desired by the reader, we refer him 
 to R. "W. P. G. M. Chandler, who any night in the wick, will light up, 
 show the moulds and the dips of ancient Greece, and then sit down 
 over a Masonic terrapin, and other fixings, with a degree of satisfaction 
 only known to the mysteries of the Order. There is something 
 very fat, jovial, good-natured, and convivial in a terrapin. Who has 
 not decided a bet over terrapin for 6? — who has not been of the 
 party, feasted on terrapins and champagne ? — who has not been invited 
 to join the social ^circle' in a 'box,' over terrapin and punch, where 
 
 9 
 
THE MASONIC TERRAPIN. 171 
 
 the night has glided away, till the small hours of the morning have 
 crawled on the board ? 
 
 Poor, defenceless, uncomplaining, heart-broken, secret- keeping 
 terrapin. Food for publishers, painters, parsons, parasites, publicans, 
 patriots, politicians, poets. Let us for a moment imagine three or 
 four quiet, solemn, hungry parsons, after long fasting, with good 
 digestion and a " special collection," orderly assembled, on a bleak, 
 dreary, windy, December night, over " terrapins for half a dozen," 
 a " little good old spirits," and cigars for their several affections of the 
 bronchial organs : a picture of self-denial, victorious over worldly 
 lust! Oh, if McClees & Germon, celebrated in their art, would 
 only use their renowned skill in daguerreotyping these "shepherds," 
 over this repast ! Poor terrapin ! Unite as a subscriber to a dinner 
 to a " distinguished statesman ;" take a seat at the table ; listen to 
 the speech of the chairman ; the patriotic toasts ; the great speech 
 of the Hon. Washington Jefferson Jackson Smallpotatoes ; and 
 cast your eye on the poor terrapin — still it keeps its own secret : 
 mason-like. It never lets out a word or sign of complaint or anguish. 
 It serves as the basis of all the satisfaction of these gatherings. It 
 performs an important part, in political or pious feasts. 
 
 That the student may not be in doubt, we have drawn the likeness 
 of one of these singular quadrupeds in full life. It " stands erect," 
 full of fat and fun. In one eye you see the mischievous twinkle of 
 a "Billy Vidkins," in the other, the quiet drollery of a "John 
 Donkey" — a combination of character, which once germinated in 
 the phiz of a * printer's devil,' but which is now subdued into that in- 
 telligent serio-comic expression which so admirably belongs to ' our 
 publisher.* Extraordinary terrapin! True to its character, it 
 furnishes food for the fun-loving reader to-day ; to-morrow solemnizes 
 itself into a condition to refresh the pious Christian who delights in 
 religious literature ; the next day, cooked up into that flavor which 
 gives a gout to a * Dutch almanac,' and ever and anon is hashed up 
 
 into aU kinds of ragouts, from a * paper book' to a ' pamphlet.' Good 
 
 22 
 
172 ^HE MASONIC TERRAPIN. 
 
 terrapin! Never complaining, always fat, ever jolly, universally 
 secret, yet proffering 'proof upon proof of the characteristics we have 
 delineated. 
 
 The unlearned reader may inquire, if our specimen is a * heifer' or 
 
 a ' cow,' as by these terms terrapins are known to the epicure. What 
 
 a question to be suggested after all we have already said ! A cow ? 
 
 Oh, Sam, who would have thought for a moment, you could 
 
 be mistaken for any * udder' kind than you are ! You are no cow ; 
 
 you worship at no such tit-ulary shrine. Benevolent as our artist has 
 
 truthfully drawn you, you are the parent of no such common-veal, 
 
 as, with the " lowing herd, winds slowly o'er the lea." Meek, gentle, 
 
 and kind as you are, no cow-ard blood is to be found under your 
 
 shell. No, poor terrapin, you are no cow, whatever else you may be. 
 
 Judging from the eggs, which are regarded as so delicate a morceau 
 
 in the cooked terrapin, one would fain believe you were a fowl — ^yet 
 
 you are "no chicken" — ^however much you may, as our publisher, 
 
 look after our brood, as the result of * Hen.'s' eggs. You may be a heifer. 
 
 But after taking a look at the drawing, we opine, that he who would 
 
 doubt as to your proper position in this or any other Natural History 
 
 might expect at your hands, what in France is called, a " bull-verse- 
 
 ment," such a shaking, as in all after time could leave no doubt on 
 
 the subject. But so long as those ' re-gal-ia' are about, you will keep 
 
 your secret on the subject ; and we wont further put you " to press," 
 
 or have you bound *in calf,' to answer. You carry on your back a 
 
 coat of ' mail,' at all events ; and if the public, in testimony of your 
 
 efforts on our behalf, will only ' shell-out,' so that you may gain the 
 
 ' shell-ings,' and save yourself from being one of Pharoah's " lean 
 
 kind," you can stand well the cream of this joke, and not be under 
 
 the necessity of committing cannibal-istic suicide, in eating yourself. 
 
 Poor terrapin ! well, you have been cooked up in a new dish this 
 
 time. Some men say, " Save us from our friends !" but you can cry 
 
 out ! " Save me from a cuisine !" [don't mistake the word for cousin] as 
 
 thus being ' roasted' is worse than " a stew." Roasted terrapin is 
 
THE MASONIC TERRAPIN* 173 
 
 an Epicurean novelty. And you don't like it ? Well, we have full 
 faith in your Masonic teachings, that you will keep this as a secret, 
 and never let the world know the current of your thoughts on the 
 subject. Fare-well, friend terrapin, and if in our remarks we have 
 been the least personal — if we have trod on your toes — if we have 
 hurt your feelings — if we have taken you by the " collar" — or pulled 
 too hard at your " apron"-string — if we have put your temper to the 
 " proof" — if we have said a a word, that, unlike yourself, could be , 
 mistaken — we will go to Guy's, or Prosser's, or * Jenny's,' or some 
 other place, and settle this difference, by showing the difference 
 between a Masonic terrapin and a terrapinized Mason. 
 
 Well, reader, who ever you may be, we have endeavored to en- 
 lighten, instruct, and amuse you, on the subject of a Masonic terrapin 
 in particular, or, more properly speaking, a particular Masonic 
 terrapin. Fully to understand all we wish the types to express, you 
 must familiarize yourself with the process of practical printing. Go 
 for example into a large and celebrated printing establishment — take 
 King & Baird's — ask for the " head devil" of the concern, request him 
 to inform you in what manner printing on tjrpes, or publishing, is con- 
 nected with a Masonic terrapin. The question is worth the asking, for 
 he will answer it promptly, by introducing to you the publisher of 
 Stephens' Natural History; then, if you can properly realize the exact 
 impression that ought at once to force itself on your mind, you will 
 invite the editor, author, and publisher, and the printer that " set- 
 up" this copy, to go round to " Rockwell's," and enjoy with you a good 
 old-fashioned terrapin supper. Well, let's go. Just a snug party — 
 Let's see : Editor 1, publisher 2, reader 3, author 4, printer 5 ; yes, 
 
 that's right, come on ! Sam ! terrapins for 
 
 V. 
 
% 
 
 v^ 
 
Q 
 
 
THE SHAD. 
 
 (ADOEATOR STANNI.) 
 
 The Shad is a pensive fish, and although one would suppose it 
 would prefer solitude, is nevertheless much addicted to travellibg in 
 schools. This speaks volumes for its intellectual capacity, and satis- 
 factorily explains the reason why it so heroically places itself in 
 the van, as a leader of the armies of the Delaware, in their attack 
 upon the palates of the foe. The Shad first made its appearance in 
 our waters in the year 1682 ; although two of them, females, appeared 
 in Boston Harbor in 1656, and increasing rapidly, were visited by a 
 Fox in 1672, which amalgamation accounts, in a scientific point of 
 view, for the slyness of the fish, as well as its propensity to double at 
 every opportunity. The principles of the Shad are not progressive ; 
 yet, as a body, they increase largely and diminish almost as rapidly 
 every season. The young Shad is disposed to be progressive ; as long 
 
 as he is kept in the schools, he generally moves with the same 
 
 23 
 
IJQ THE SHAD. 
 
 aquatic gravity as his forefatliers, but when emancipated from the 
 overseeing eye of parental fondness, he contrives to cut a splash, " on 
 his own hook." It was a young Shad in a moment of ecstatic free- 
 dom, who gave to the world those beautiful lines, " Row brothers, 
 row." The Shad is filled to the brim with benevolence, but it is for 
 his own kind : and who can blame him ? Doth not man prey upon 
 him ? Yea, make of him an exhibition in the market place ? Lifteth 
 not the huckster the savory piscatorial prize high aloft, with finger 
 thrust ruthlessly through gill, '* like burning battle red," as she ex- 
 claimeth, " fine fat he-shad, mam, only a levy and four !" 
 
 And yet doth the Shad submit to the indignity, for what availeth 
 him his struggles ? Is it not written, that the evil wrought in the 
 flesh, by his great progenitors, shall be expiated upon the very soil 
 where erst they placed their feet in silence, but with the determined 
 resolution to circumvent the gudgeon called the Eed man ? Yea ! 
 fell there not then a Shad- (oh !) upon the land— a shadow of long 
 coming sufiering ! • . ^ • 
 
 The Shad hold a yearly meeting early in the Spring, when large 
 numbers of them are daily seen ; they show their contempt for their 
 foes, by rushing into their mouths, and are found in large numbers 
 every day, for two weeks, upon the side walks of the city, as well as 
 upon the stalls of the market. This is the more singular, as their 
 elders must be aware that, by the laws of their sworn enemy, on and 
 after the tenth day of June, they are privileged to poke their noses 
 wherever they choose, without fear or danger, and such conduct 
 therefore argues on their part great ignorance or fool-hardiness. It 
 is possible, as the old ones are rarely caught, that the younger 
 portion of the community are kept in ignorance of the law; or 
 that, as in the days of Caligula, the laws may be posted so high, as 
 to render it impossible for the multitude to read them. A learned 
 friend of ours suggests the doubt also, whether " Jersey law is really 
 a beneficial law, and not intended as a snare for the innocent," as 
 the State appears to be much disposed to sustain an overgrown 
 
 4 
 
THE SHAD. 177 
 
 " corporation," and evinces a strong desire to " make fish'' of strangers, 
 and " flesh" for themselves ; we have also a theory of our own, that 
 the old Shad are disciples of Malthus, and fear a superabundant 
 population. Be this as it may, however, the days of shadhood we 
 regret to say, are brief, although to many it is a source of fervent 
 joy, on account of the intimate connection subsisting between the 
 advent of shad and the rise of butter. 
 
 In the annals of Shaddom, there runneth an ancient prophecy, to 
 wit: 
 
 " Whenne ye fyrste shadde from Shaddome, shall wandere fuUe free, 
 To a countrie some thousands of miles o'er ye sea : 
 And shall squizzle ye Redde manne, of Ian Je manie a roode, 
 His chyldrene shalle pay for ye same with their bluide." 
 
 The prophecy is in progress of fulfillment, and will go on doubtless 
 to the end of Shaddom. " This even-handed justice commneds itself 
 to our own lips," and the acknowledgment of this justice, it is sup- 
 posed, first clothed the Shad with scales. 
 
 . • .•'. .-■:.■■■ W. A. S. 
 

HBSfi^^ 
 
 jSt,S35' -^_ ^ - _ - 
 
 LUh. in odors IjrJbstnllujuJyKriU.^i/'./ 
 
 DEIIESBACffl'S ILIOET, 
 
 MLACKTltlKJa, 
 
DRIESBACH'S LION AND BLACK TIGER. 
 
 (LEO DRIESBACHII-) (TIGRIS BOCKWELLI.) 
 
 As fair Desdemona, when summoned to meet her father and " the 
 Moor" before the Venitian Senate, exclaimed, — " I do perceive here 
 a divided duty !" — so we, in endeavoring to describe the subjects of 
 our present chapter, find a two-fold and difficult task before us, for 
 in stirring up the Lion, we might simultaneously arouse his anger ; 
 and if we should be happy enough to escape in that quartqp, the 
 Tiger might feign " low spirits," and not " stir up" at all, in which 
 case his chief attractions would be lost. But we fancy our auditory- 
 are growing impatient, and various conjectures are being formed by 
 the juveniles in science, as to " which is the Lion and which is the 
 Tiger, Mr. Showman ?" we will proceed, borrowing as we go, a little 
 of the favorite panoramic style of lecturing, in order better to illus- 
 trate the specimens before us. Ahem ! (a tumbler containing a trans- 
 parent and colorless liquid is here handed up, which consorts well 
 with the snow-white neck-cloth and perfumed handkerchief of the 
 
 Lecturer, and gives a wonderful effect in adding to the illusion of the 
 
 24 
 
130 DRIESBACH'S LION 
 
 scene.) Ladies and gentlemen, — the animals to which your attention 
 is now politely called, form a branch of the Domestic Natural History 
 of our happy country ; (the Bear and Hyena here have a little dis- 
 agreement;) they are the only specimens I believe ever exhibited in 
 public, and are therefore deserving of some particular observation. 
 (Several eye-glasses are here elevated, at which the caged Monkeys 
 become indignant, and retaliate by making the ends of their thumb 
 and fore-finger meet, and peeping through the circle thus formed.) You 
 will please patiently accompany me, while I briefly narrate the pecu- 
 liarities of each. (The tumbler is here raised, and an ape turns a 
 somerset.) The animal on the upper portion of the rock is "the 
 Driesbach Lion," erroneously believed by some to be of foreign 
 growth ; (the imported Lion here stops short in his perambulations? 
 stares for a second, turns up his nose, then walks to and fro as usual;) 
 his ancestors doubtless were so, but the specimen before you is a 
 native of Shannon, Schoharie county. State of New York ; it was not 
 caught or caged till it had attained nearly its full size ; so, little is 
 known of its early habits and nature, but from its present develop- 
 ments, we may easily and safely conclude, that it must have been 
 wild, headstrong and daring, to a great degree. (An asthmatic sigh 
 from the Elephant Columbus, and a sympathetic one from the elderly 
 mothers present, affording an excellent opportunity for elevating the 
 tumb^r again.) Like the ordinary Lion, its main (mane) beauty is 
 in the head, its abundant and flowing locks almost leading one to 
 the belief, that numerous Bears must have been unsparingly 
 slaughtered to produce so fine an efiect ; (the ghost of the murdered 
 Polar Bear here stalks along ;) its eye is fierce and commanding, its 
 limbs of great size and strength, while its watchful and fearless spirit 
 never sleeps ; these qualities combined, give it immense power and 
 influence over other animals, all of whom appear to be subservient to 
 his look and gesture. But though he reigns over and governs the 
 inmates of the vast forest, he is easily ruled by man ; with him his 
 nature becomes at once changed, and assumes a docile aspect ; many 
 
AND BLACK TIGER. 181 
 
 a pleasant hour may be passed in his society. He is extremely vora- 
 cious, eats plentifully either of " fried or in the shell," and drinks 
 pretty nearly " as often as he is asked ;" meets friend or foe with 
 equal firmness, and has seldom been known to " le-treat" except upon 
 extreme cases; being so partial to shell fish, we presume, has made 
 him thus " close." He is very p?ay-ful, and many would infer that 
 he was partial to equestrian exercise, having seen him repeatedly 
 " saddle the horse," — but that is the full extent of the operation, for 
 being a bachelor of {7ie) arts, he is averse to the bridle ceremony, a 
 curb is set upon his rein, and he cannot move a bit. (The Grizzly 
 Bear shows symptoms of displeasure, and the learned Parrot ex- 
 claims, " Did you say, oh, pshaw, too ?") Before leaving this portion 
 of our lecture for the lower branch, it may be as well to correct a 
 foolish idea which has gained some footing with the misinformed, — 
 that is, with regard to the sex of the Driesbach Lion, — many suppos- 
 ing it to be female, from the fact of persons, when speaking of its 
 appearance, feats, properties, &c., usually preface their inquiry by 
 saying, — Have you seen " Her" ? — or. Do you know " Her" ? and so 
 forth ; but the reply invariably is. No, I do not know " him," or, have 
 not seen "him," &c. ; if this is not sufficient proof of his title to the 
 masculine, we will add our written guaranty, and further state, that 
 all attempts to procure a suitable " match" for him, have failed. (A 
 simultaneous movement observed — a gentleman in the rear rubs a 
 locofoco across the back of a turtle — the young Elephant whistles a 
 sigh, two young maidens breathe one a-piece, and the old ones think 
 of the " good old days of Adam and Eve" — the tumbler up again — 
 the " glass" points to " dry" weather.) "We proceed now to describe 
 the animal " couchant" at the foot of the Lion : it is designated the 
 " Black Tiger ;" they are thus coupled in our History, because they 
 are so in our memory, having seen them frequently so in the walks 
 of life ; you would almost infer that an indissoluble tie existed be- 
 tween them, or that they were cradled with each other, seeing they 
 "Rock"-well together. "A foolish figure— farewell it." In its 
 
1^2 DRIESBACH'SLION 
 
 habits the "Black Tiger" differs somewhat from the "Lion," 
 although like him, he shows to good advantage behind the " Bars ;" 
 'tis there a stranger would admire him most, but when you know 
 him better, you will equally esteem him when you find him taking 
 the part of the weak against the strong, consoliug the sick, or reliev- 
 ing the distressed ; we have seen him in many shapes, and admire 
 him in all. But it is not our task to descant upon the merits or de- 
 merits of those we select, this department we leave to the individuals 
 themselves, and those who constitute their friends ; our duty is to put 
 a good polish on the mirror, then hold it up to nature, and amuse the 
 world with the reflections we create, which, if we succeed in doing, 
 our end is accomplished, for we will then have done enough. But 
 to proceed ; — connected with the history of the " Black Tiger," is a 
 certain famous " club," this is purposely omitted in the engraving 
 before you, and so it must be in the present lecture, beyond a mere 
 mention of it, for if the "Black Tiger Club" were to be described, it 
 would occupy an entire number of itself, besides causing a dispute, 
 for the " Lion" claims the sovereignty, while the ^* Black Tiger" holds 
 possession of it ; we will simply state that the aforementioned " Club" 
 is composed of the choicest materials, — the very heart of oak, hox-ed 
 carefully up ; its ash-es will be cherished, when we have occasion to 
 pine for its decay from the leaves of our memory. The best friends 
 have differences at times, so do the subjects of our present lecture ; 
 and when any dispute arises between these famous creatures, the 
 sagacious "Tiger" gives the "counter" blow, retires behind his 
 " bars," and with the aid of a certain " gentleman in black," calls to 
 his aid a formidable array of " spirits," which have the effect of bring- 
 ing the Lion to his senses, when " Quarter, quarter," is heard cried, 
 especially if no more than " five" happen to be present ; it seems as 
 if that magic number were necessary to a " piping to quarters." Like 
 the " Lion," we should say he was fond of equestrianism, having on 
 numerous occasions seen him assist in the hazardous ceremony of 
 " saddling" that aforesaid celebrated " horse," who, as soon as he is 
 
AND BLACK TIGER. Ig3 
 
 " saddled," won't stay so, however " tight" you may draw ; and as a 
 further proof of his partiality to the above exercises, we may state 
 that he has a perfect stud of sorrel-colored " ponies" of his own ; 
 these are of so "spirited" a nature, that if you are not careful in cul- 
 tivating a proper familiarity with them, you will be kicked over 
 before you are aware of it. The " Black Tiger" species has lately 
 become so mixed, that it is difficult to meet with one of the " right 
 stripe," but the one our artist has "spotted," is of the genuine sort; 
 to many, he appears, and is, an " Odd-Fellow," but he is a " Good- 
 Fellow," though death on "Masonic Terrapins;" from these he derives 
 a great portion of his living, which is done in a somewhat curious 
 way, — he at first "shells out" liberally to them, with the aid of the 
 before mentioned " gentleman in black," and after having fed them 
 to a certain degree of inactivity, his combined forces of " spirits" and 
 "ponies" are summoned, the insinuating powers of the one added to 
 the repeated kicks of the other, soon have the effect of making them 
 in their turn " shell out" also ; but so agreeable is the operation, that 
 they come again and again to have its powers applied to them, and 
 when continued within the bounds of decorum, all parties thrive and 
 prosper by the application. (An exclamation of Pooh ! from the 
 Jbonah Bear.) 
 
 These notable creatures have now been separated for some 
 months ; the " Lion" is at present being chased northward by the 
 " Hum-Bug," described in No. 2, who is " puffing" and " buzzing" 
 about like an excited steamboat, trying to overtake and over-reach 
 him ; the ears of the Public have been " Pierce"-d. with the various 
 movements, and we patiently await the news of the encounter. In 
 the meantime, we advise all our readers to meet at the " Tiger's" 
 den. South-east corner Eighth and Walnut, as often as convenient, 
 and superintend the mixture of sour-crout, to be prepared against the 
 " Lion" returns to his winter quarters in the Walnut Grove, close to 
 the cage of his friend the " Tiger." 
 
 ^,, T. McK. 
 
•' «l 
 
 ii 
 
■Ni 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
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 M 
 

 THE YAMPYRE. 
 
 (PSALMICANTOR VEHEMENS.) 
 
 Said the quaint old Bishop Fuller, " I have read of a bird which 
 hath a face like, and yet will prey upon a man : who, coming to the 
 water to drink, and finding there by reflection, that he had killed 
 one like himself, pineth away by degrees, and never afterwards 
 enjoyeth itself." How inapplicable to the creature of the present 
 day, who, preying upon his fellow-man, reaps not only enjoyment, 
 but profit, and perhaps a renown — of infamy. ' . 
 
 Bom in a fable — a myth of the sunny climes of India, — it is yet in 
 civilized Europe and America, a fact as palpable as the instability of 
 a politician, or the falsity of friendship. It grows by what it feeds 
 on, thriving most luxuriantly on the most dainty delicates of society 
 — the pure and noble-minded heart ; the reputation, that, knowing 
 no wrong, fears no stain, and recks not of the secret foe, until the 
 Parthian shaft strikes home. 
 
I^Q THE VAMPYRE. 
 
 There is a social, as well as a political Vampyre ; the former is 
 more secret in its operations — ^it hails you with the kiss of peace — 
 even with the taint of the thirty pieces of silver upon its lips, and 
 giving you the embrace of friendship, daily inflicts the secret stab 
 upon your honor and your reputation, tainting the life's blood, and 
 withering the heart of the unconscious victim. The grasp of Caesar 
 Borgia was not more sure; the poison which his envenomed ring 
 gave forth was not more deadly, than is the tongue of the social Vam- 
 pyre of the civilized world. 
 
 Yea, we have known it to invade the Sanctuary ; to take the 
 shape even of those who turn up their hypocritical eyes to heaven, 
 and daily smiting their breasts, thank God they " are not as the pub- 
 lican." 
 
 Filled with a fervor, which in their blasphemous idea is akin to 
 the Godhead, they ofier up solemn prayers with the lips, while in 
 their hearts they are devising some smooth and specious tale of vil- 
 lainy, which, in the eye of the truly righteous, would be deemed a foul 
 lie, but which the sensitive minions of society soften into the inofien- 
 sive term of " a little scandal." Mark then how eagerly, ere the 
 dying tones of the last prayer have ceased to fall upon the ear, they 
 seize some spirit like unto themselves, and into their ear *' pour the 
 leprous distilment," the slander and the shame destined to murder 
 some inoffending one by inches; with a refinement of torture draw- 
 ing drop by drop the heart's blood of the guileless and the innocent 
 being, whose crime it is to be purer than themselves. 
 
 It has not the boldness and courage of the desperado, who meets 
 you with the knife and the pistol, and at least gives you a chance for 
 life in the deadly struggle. It lurks in the darkness ; it strikes in 
 whispers ; it sends forth its venom in anonymous letters ; it fattens 
 and revels on the good and noble heart in silence. Then, when 
 bleeding at every pore from the foul slanders that meet it at every 
 turning in the social world, the victim seeks for pity, and finds 
 none : then comes the holiday of this fiend of hell, clothed in the 
 
THE VAMPYRE. Ig7 
 
 garb of angels ! Then is this Yampyre of the human heart happy 
 in the paradise it has created for itself, amid the ruined temples of 
 humanity. 
 
 The best specimens of a political Vampyre, are generally to be 
 found at the head of some ostensible moral, and high-toned journal. 
 All is fish that comes to their net; under the assumption of a political 
 morality, they can indulge in the censure, the sneer and the lie ; true 
 it is, avowing great candor, and " feeling the necessity of speaking 
 boldly the truth," they sometimes "o'erstep the modesty of nature;'' 
 and finding that the pulse of the community does not beat responsive 
 to their own, cheerfully (as they say) make the correction, and are 
 extremely gratified to be enabled so to do. But, "swifter than arrow 
 from Tartar's bow," the poisoned shaft has fled with electric speed, 
 throughout the length and breadth of the land ; and the correction, 
 if made, may seek to overtake the lie, and seek in vain. It is 
 Godwin, who says, we believe, in his novel of Mandeville, " They 
 disseminate the lie, and send after it the acknowledgment of their 
 error : but the lie flies fast, and the vindication never can overtake 
 it." 
 
 Now, your mere politician, is perhaps no better than he should be, 
 and such is the opinion of the mass of the community. Your legis- 
 lator and your statesman may occasionally expose their weakest spot ; 
 the vulnerable part of Achilles was the heel, and the shaft of Paris 
 found it ; so be assured, if the seeker after fame and power, however 
 pure he may be now, has ever faltered, or fallen into a venial sin, 
 the shaft of the political Yampyre will be sure to reach it, even 
 through the dim distance of a score of years. As to the Yampyre 
 himself, he is invulnerable to aught but " Black mail," judiciously 
 administered. If there is a vulnerable spot about him, you may rest 
 assured it is not the heart. 
 
 Again, let the artist, filled with a high and noble appreciation of the 
 beauty of her art, appear among us from a distant land; in her moral 
 
 worth, sublime; in her artistical excellence, rare; a very woman, 
 
 25 
 
183 THE VAMPYRE. 
 
 yet a true and honest one. You may hear afar, the flutter of the 
 Vampyre's wings, as he circles round her, glaring upon her with a 
 sinister eye. " The pound of flesh, but not one drop of blood," said 
 Portia to the Jew. " The pound of flesh, aye, and the drop of blood," 
 says your moral journalist, " or we will fasten on you, and day by 
 day draw from your sensitive heart, by slander and defamation, by 
 ridicule and bravado, the daily pang to darken your pathway through 
 the world forever." K she resists, though she may sufier, good men 
 will applaud ; if she succumbs, and feeds the ponderous maw of tlie 
 vile thing, through fear, she will find as others have found, that the 
 praise of the corrupt is more to be dreaded than their censure ; and 
 that the surest way to meet and overcome such a foe, is to spurn with 
 contempt the snake, whose touch is loathsome, and whose daily path 
 is known by the slimy track he leaves behind. 
 
 Yea, the Yampyre revels everywhere : in the Sanctuary, in the 
 crowded mart, by the domestic hearth ; everywhere he is to be found. 
 Strip off" the mask of hypocrisy which he wears abroad, and you will 
 find the face of a fiend; beware, lest in doing so, you strike at the 
 foundation of your worldly happiness, in thus betraying to your eyes 
 the false face and false heart which you have daily taught yourself to 
 love ; better, perhaps, to live on in ignorance of the wrong and deceit 
 practised upon you, than to have your faith and hope in human love 
 shattered forever. . 
 
 W. A. S. 
 
 
■K-U •£\ 
 
 
 1 
 
THE CATAMARAN AND THE OWL. 
 
 (POLYPUS URBIS.) (STEKS SPEELH.) 
 
 Ever since we were first thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and 
 burst off a shirt-collar button in a paroxysm of laughter, at a squint 
 of the happy illustration of the vision of little " Billy Vidkins," we 
 have been an humble believer in the truth and impressibiUty of 
 dreams. And particularly so, when they accorded with our own 
 hopes and desires. *• . 
 
 More recently, our personal experience and observation have led 
 us to the flattering conclusion, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that 
 for once in our life, at least, we are right. One dream especially, 
 intimately connected with the subject of our sketch, gave us no small 
 degree of uneasiness, and what may be called a slight nervous trepi- 
 dation ; but was happily followed by a train of inconceivable pleasures, 
 and extravagant self-congratulations. 
 
 Last night, we all remember, was decidedly the warmest of the 
 
290 THE CATAMARAN 
 
 season. The sky was more than ordinarily complacent, the stars 
 winked and twinkled, and the moon smiled, and was more than once 
 suspected of a broad grin — so every one imagined, and some would 
 have sworn to it. I'he air was heated and oppressive; anguish 
 and despair were depicted in wry faces; drops and streams of perspi- 
 ration supplied the place of parched and dried-up tears. Animation, 
 spirit, thought, hope, were in the last agonies of expiring fortitude. 
 At the proper hour, after a vain attempt to read the Comic History, 
 and smoke a cigar, we toddled to our bed-chamber, or rather to our 
 sleeping-apartment in the back attic. We looked blackly through 
 the trap-door up to the sky ; we frowned extensively, clenched our 
 hands and made fists of them, and absolutely grated our teeth, stumps 
 included, while we, from our heart, scorned the mockery and tanta- 
 lizing grimaces of what were anything to us but heavenly objects. 
 After this performance, feeling better, we actually buried our head in 
 the pillow, with our boots on. But we were not alone, or unoccupied. 
 The sweet melody of the night-watcher, the true and faithful mosquito, 
 filled the sullen air with the most lively, acute, and brisk music, 
 disturbed the while by our restlessness under these harmonic 
 influences. 
 
 "We thought of terrapins, and canvas-back, and turtle-soup. We 
 thought of the last glass of Hock, and of the curling smoke of that 
 " Neptuno," which cost us nothing, because Barbe could not change 
 an " X." Then we thought of sleep, and made up our minds to enjoy 
 in our favorite dreams, the delicacies that were then lingering in our 
 imagination. Did we dream ? you ask. Yes, we did — but such a 
 dream ! Soon we were buried in the arms of the " Murpheys," we 
 think they call him. How long we slept, we cannot tell. We 
 awakened, however; at least, that is our present impression. Who but 
 ourself can picture the distressed state of our outer and inner man ? 
 Truly, "a change had cgme o'er the spirit of our dreams." The 
 voluptuous luxuries, and epicurean festivities had been transmuted 
 into the most dire, revolting, and horrific scene. The room was dark 
 
AND THE OWL. jgj^ 
 
 and still ; the night-air whispered portentously, the ragged curtain 
 flapped weird-like — a chilling, brimstonish moon-beam crawled steal- 
 thily along the wall. This we discovered with one eye opened, 
 peeping from under the pillow. When we raised our head, and 
 ventured to open the other blinker, we muttered quite audibly (for 
 we heard it), sighed, groaned, and whistled. Our hair was frowsy 
 and dishevelled ; our cleanest collar, which we were too lazy, or too 
 tired to take off, drooping, degenerate and fallen. "We were trem- 
 bling, aching and shaking. We had been relieved of one boot, which 
 stood on the floor, a monument of the dissipated phantasmagoria. 
 We wondered where we were, and who we were. Through our 
 aching brain yet passed in tumultuous order, and numbers, the most 
 loathsome and terrific shadows and spectres. We were the victim 
 offered up to appease the anger and appetite of lizards, vipers, bats, 
 toads, frogs, tad-poles, scorpions, owls, and crocodiles. Our memory 
 revisited the scene enacted during our sleep, and recalled but poorly, 
 the gaunt, gloomy, gray vision. Eearing, tearing, clawing, and 
 scratching through the multitude of ghouls and goblins that infested 
 the air, with small, bleared, inflamed eyes ; flabby, greasy, bloated and 
 pimpled mug; grayish red, twisted, and rumpled hair; long yellow 
 decayed teeth ; a large, flat, rummy nose, graced with a tuft of hair, 
 came an animal that seemed to threaten instant " smiflication." 
 
 To its tongue there was no end — though literally there was. Mum- 
 bling, maunching, grumbling, growling, screaming and screeching, it 
 presided over the midnight orgies. Before it, all its satellites crouched 
 in fear. Vipers eyed their tails as the last hope of their existence ; 
 lizards turned pale and sick ; toads and frogs fell upon their knees, 
 and croaked for their "dear-lives;" crocodiles prepared to swallow 
 themselves, and every object and their every movement bespoke 
 terror and dismay. Really, we thought we were about to be con- 
 signed to the " demnition bow-wows," and seized hold of the bed-post 
 to prepare for the worst, determined, at all hazards, to take the bed 
 with us. Anon we heard shrill and piercing cries, unintelligible 
 
192 THE CATAMARAN . r-^ 
 
 sounds, and musically nasal twangs. "We heard mutterings and 
 whispers about shad, cat-fish, mackerel, water-melons, cantaleups, 
 tomatoes and other vegetables ; something was said about ham, pud- 
 dings, and sausages ; but that was unnecessary, we smelt them, and 
 actually saw them. They danced and capered about in high dudgeon, 
 as if they had wings, and arms, and legs. We saw water-melons 
 that actually made faces at us. The cold perspiration trickled down 
 us, as we smothered ourself in the pillow, and prepared for another 
 snooze. That dream still haunted us, and we must have snored lus- 
 tily. Again we were awakened ; we thought we smelt an owl, for 
 we had dreamed of one. At first, lest we might be mistaken, we 
 were afraid to look towards the head-board, from whence we heard a 
 rustling noise. We cried out, " Who's there ?" and looked up at the 
 same time. The question was enough, the look was enough, the owl 
 thought it enough, and distinctly said, " It is enough !" We were 
 tickled and good-humored — we were about to laugh, then to cry, but 
 we laughed. We had found an acquaintance, a friend, company, a 
 human face with a beard, and good looking, too. Friend, it was 
 Speel's owl. It was Speel, full of fun and frolic, jovial and clever — 
 a practical joker. He had come, we suppose, to vex and nettle 
 us, knowing our nocturnal proclivities, and our love of viands and 
 wines. 
 
 We thought it a good joke, chuckled, hemmed and hawed, remem- 
 ber having said " Can't come it", with our thumb to our nose. It 
 appeared he took the hint, for he had gone. At last, thanks to the 
 mosquitos, morning came ; they had even stung night itself, until the 
 blood started, indicated by the blushing dawn. We were just 
 adjusting our tile, preparatory to our morning walk, when our friend 
 Stephens, the Comic Artist, was announced. We, of course, prepared 
 for such a distinguished individual, our blandest smiles, and most 
 winning grace. " Good morning, Bullanonions," said he, " here is a 
 cut of the * Catamaran and the Owl,' let's have a history at the 
 shortest notice." Well, here was a go. Who had ever heard of the 
 
ANDTHEOWL. 193 
 
 Catamaran ? Who was it ? What was it ? Wha,t did Arthur Gride 
 call Peg Sliderskew ? A Catamaran. " Enough said. — Mj dear sir, 
 it shall be done." 
 
 Our friend had gone out, so had our cigar, which we lighted again. 
 We drew our hat over our eyes, gave a long puflf, involuntarily 
 attacked our ear with our forefinger, as we made the longest and 
 loosest kind of a face. Our dream recurred to us, its interpretation 
 followed as a natural sequence. We had heard, during the season of 
 our juvenility, repeated and emphatic allusions to the Catamaran ; 
 hnt we never had the good or bad fortune of a personal inspection, 
 and therefore, always felt at a loss to conceive what it could be like. 
 As we tried to solve our dream, favorably, of course, the extraordi- 
 nary circumstance of the early visit of Stephens, and the character 
 of his business, aflforded us a most happy and original thought. It 
 was our destiny to write this history ; we had had a presentiment of 
 it. Our path to literary and scientific fame now became smooth, as 
 our bright hopes illuminated its tortuous windings and meanderings. 
 To immortalize the Catamaran, was to immortalize ourself. The time, 
 the occasion, the circumstance, the subject, and the object, were all 
 important, and we, too, determined to be important. To mature our 
 thoughts by close observation, personal inquiry and investigation, we 
 concluded to travel. The Pines of Jersey became our destination. 
 Ofi" we started, leaving as usual, our shirt collars at home. No sooner 
 had we crossed the street, than a rejuvenated old maid, who, at 
 sundry times, had made divers attempts to besiege our heart, think- 
 ing, perhaps, that we were about to take our final exit, and in the 
 despair of a broken heart, absolutely, from her window, showed the 
 extreme length of her tongue, closing one eye to give effect to the 
 display. Laughing in our sleeve, we made a note of this in our 
 memorandum book, under the caption — Catamaran. Shortly after, 
 we heard a family quarrel ; hastening to the scene, we found man 
 and wife tearing each other's hair, and manifesting other connubial 
 eccentricities. " Shameful," said we, as we rushed to the rescue of 
 
194 '•* TH^ CATAMARAN. 
 
 the weaker sex. " Horrible," said we, as we left, relieved of our 
 coat-tail. "When we were able, we wrote — Catamaran ! Not long 
 after this adventure, our ears were gratified with the sweetest combi- 
 nation of sounds, and melifluous cadences. In a neighboring alley, 
 as we passed, a group of women, old and young, were evincing the 
 most hostile preparations. We heard loud threats, sonorous epithets, 
 and painful screams. Brooms, scrubbing-brushes, mangles, mops and 
 skewers, flew about majestically. Something was said about " buying 
 law, and perjury," and we left, exclaiming, Catamarans ! In every 
 adventure, our dream arose vividly in our mind, and in them we 
 found a painful realization of our illusion. Returning home, we 
 passed through the market, or rather we intended to do so ; we did 
 not go far — " the cat was out of the bag" — ^here was our dream to 
 perfection. Sausage-venders, truck-dealers, fish-hucksters, haber- 
 dashers, and cake and pie caterers, all were here. Billingsgate 
 loomed up before us, as we thought we were there. Abstracted, we 
 did not know where we were, until we fell over a fish-basket, and 
 found ourself escaping from the enraged, yet amiable Catamarans. 
 
 In concluding, we must add, that we have abandoned our belief in 
 dreams, as well as the study and science of Natural History. In our 
 retirement, we will ever think of this memorable dream, and its con- 
 sequences. As we can see no sympathy or congeniality between our 
 friend Speel and shrews and termagants, we will wonder, to our last 
 hour, how he was associated with such unenviable company. We 
 can only be satisfied with a personal explanation : perhaps the King- 
 bird, his boon companion and messmate, can tell us. We hope, 
 hereafter, he will keep clear of such associates. As for you, dear 
 friend, we wish the same ; if you are a lady, we wish you may ever 
 remain one ; that is, a lady, not a shrew. For ourself, we are per- 
 fectly docile ; and never dream, either of Terrapins or Catamarans. 
 While we condole the loss of one, we congratulate the absence of the 
 other. 
 
 • C. F. E. 
 
/.;.tk. tn ri'^i 
 
 WaWDIlDiPlKl'l^lKiKlS 
 
Ipi. 
 
 >• 
 
 THE WOODPECKER. 
 
 Cpicus gihonis major.) 
 
 One of the primary objects of the present book has been, and is, to 
 
 correct the many errors of preceding writers in the department of 
 
 science of which this our work treats; and to disabuse the public 
 
 mind of the many false notions that have obtained by the too ready 
 
 credence given to the statements of those authors whose works have 
 
 so long been regarded as standard, and whose opinions so implicitly 
 
 received, that many even now hold it heresy to doubt them. For 
 
 the benefit of those who have been thus misled, we will first expose 
 
 the misrepresentations of previous writers, and then give the results 
 
 of our observations on the character and habits of the Picus. And 
 
 although we draw but an individual of the genus, yet it is such a 
 
 beautiful specimen on which to generalize, exhibiting in itself all the 
 
 better characteristics of its tribe, that all may feel assured, ours is a 
 
 faithful portrait. 
 
 26 
 
196 '•'^^ WOODPECKER. 
 
 The celebrated wood engraver, author of the " History of British 
 Birds, etc. etc.," Thomas Bewick, whose opportunities for observing 
 and acquiring a thorough knowledge of the character and habits of 
 this interesting bird were so much greater than all preceding Ornitho- 
 logists, that we might reasonably have expected from him the most 
 complete history of it, yet so meagre and erroneous is his description, 
 as to lead us to the conclusion that he intentionally cut it, (the bird, 
 not the description) therefore he should not be quoted as authority 
 at all. 
 
 Buffon describes its length as " somewhat more than nine inches ;" 
 — " somewhat more," we think also, as the individual we describe 
 extends a fraction over that measurement, being exactly six feet. 
 He further tells us that " the head is wholly crimson ;" in the speci- 
 men whose portrait is given herewith, it is of a dark brown, and we 
 are sorry to add, shows a seeming tendency towards premature bald- 
 ness of the crown. 
 
 Yarrell states that " this bird is one of the earliest to retire to 
 rest, and reposes in its hole till day." The Picus Gihonis, however, 
 is not of this habit, being seldom found in its nest, until after most 
 other birds have " shaken up their straw ;" nor have we ever known 
 it to comply with that request so frequently made, " go in your hole." 
 
 The Gihonis seldom associates with birds of its own species, except 
 when engaged in the occupation by which its sustenance is procured, 
 and from whence its name of Picus is derived ; but from among the 
 feathered race, chooses for companions, birds seemingly of very differ- 
 ent character from its own, — but who, in fact, possess qualities in 
 sympathy with it ; thus for instance, we frequently see our specimen 
 of the Picus, in company with the Hen, hovering about the roost of 
 the Canvas-Back Duck, and so great is the regard of the " Dux Pictor 
 Woodsideii" for these companions, that when with them, it is seldom 
 or never known to take to the water , or if it does, — there must, as the 
 sagacious Sowers observes, " he something in it" 
 
 We have now to speak of the principle characteristic of the Picus, 
 
THE WOODPECKER. I97 
 
 namely its habit of pecking wood. This operation it performs with 
 the most remarkable dexterity, the perforations it makes being found 
 to assume the most curious and beautiful forms; representing the 
 various productions of nature and art, in such an accurate manner, 
 that of late years the Doctors and scientific men generally, have been 
 at much pains to procure the bits of wood that have passed under its 
 bill, and have applied them to various purposes tending to the 
 advancement of science and the spread of knowledge. 
 
 Messrs. Blanchard & Lea, the celebrated Publishers of Philadelphia, 
 have taken much interest in the productions of this bird, and are in 
 possession of a very extensive collection of the wood-blocks wrought 
 by our Picus, which though they value very highly, they generously 
 offer from them to supply the public with impressions, to whatever 
 extent they may be demanded. These gentlemen have frequently 
 and minutely examined the hill of the Picus Gihonis, and assure us, 
 that it is five per cent, less than has been represented. 
 
 Yarrell informs us that it labors principally upon the elm and beech ; 
 this we presume to be simply an error in orthography, and that heach 
 was intended. As our Picus was known to pay a flying visit to, — 
 and was frequently seen, hopping about Cape May during the present 
 season ; and as to its " laboring principally upon the elm," as Yarrell 
 states, we are satisfied that it has a decided preference for the box 
 wood; this may however be considered its graver occupation, for 
 when thus engaged it has a very sober air, although holding a glass 
 continually under its bill; and when deprived of this its favorite 
 employment, it will pick anything within reach ; though we would 
 make exception in favor of pockets and quarrels. By the way, speak- 
 ing of quarrels, perhaps some of our readers, (should we be lucky 
 enough to have any) may feel disposed to quarrel with us for being 
 so prolix. Therefore we at once cut the cutter. 
 
 ALI BABA THE WOOD-CUTTER. 
 
#■ 
 
 Jk 4 
 
 • '*»•; 
 
 ^ 
 
l.itk :n tolot^ 
 
 K■^(BfflJ^^ mawm 
 

 THE NIGHT HAWK. 
 
 «-» 
 
 '« 
 
 * 
 
 (NOCtlVAGANS CAPTIVERDENS.) 
 
 In the twilight, in the darkness, 
 Where the human tide doth flow, 
 Flits the Night-hawk, ever watchful. 
 Eagerly seeking to and fro ; 
 While her siren voice is murmuring. 
 Invitation soft and low. 
 
 Once a warm and sunny creature. 
 Basking in the noontide ray ; 
 Now she seeks the darkness ever. 
 Now she shuns the garish day; 
 Gliding through the misty twilight. 
 Seeking ever for her prey. 
 27 
 
200 THE NIGHT-HAWK, 
 
 Once she was a maiden beauteous, 
 With a gladsome, gleeful smile ; 
 But the serpent twined around her, 
 And his winning voice, the while. 
 Won her by his arts deceiving, 
 Won her by his tongue of guile. 
 
 %#♦ 
 
 * Fallen from her high position. 
 Fallen from her pure estate ; 
 
 Shunned by those who should protect her, 
 Lonely now and desolate ; 
 Struggling blindly in the vortex. 
 Onward sweeps she to her fate. 
 
 In the distance, fading from her, 
 
 • Face averted, stern and cold, 
 
 jj, Vainly seeks the wronged maiden 
 
 T For a love look as of old ; 
 
 But the world hath claims above her, 
 
 And they dare not be so bold. 
 
 Dare not call the lost and erring. 
 Homeward to return again. 
 For the loving Christian women, 
 * And the pious Christian men, 
 
 Frown upon the sin-discovered, 
 (Ah ! no pity for her then !) 
 
 None to save her, lost forever, 
 
 Rushing madly to her fall. 
 
 Onward, in the path of pleasure. 
 
 Closing round her like a pall : 
 
 Ishmaelite ! she turns upon them, !» 
 
 Enemy alike of all. 
 
>. . THE NIGHT-HAWK. 201 
 
 " Look now upon this picture, then upon this !" 
 
 THE BEIDGE OF SIGHS: By Thomas Hood. 
 
 One more Unfortunate, 
 Weary of breath, ^ 
 Rashly importunate. 
 Gone to her death. 
 
 Take her up tenderly. 
 
 Lift her with care ; .' 
 
 Fashioned so slenderly, 
 
 Young, and so fair. 
 
 Look at her garments. 
 
 Clinging like cerements ; 
 
 Whilst the wave constantly -^ 
 
 Drips from her clothing ; 
 
 Take her up instantly. 
 
 Loving, not loathing. ^ • 
 
 • " 
 Touch her not scornfully ; 
 
 Think of her mournfully, 
 
 Gently and humanly : 
 
 Not of the stains of her, 
 
 All that remains of her 
 
 Now, is pure womanly. 
 
 Make no deep scrutiny 
 Into her mutiny 
 Rash and undutiful ; * 
 Past all dishonor, 
 iP Death has left on her 
 Only the beautiful. 
 
 'jj^ 
 
202 THE NIGHT-HAWK. 
 
 Still, for all slips of hers, 
 One of Eve's family — 
 Wipe those poor lips of hers 
 Oozing so clammily. 
 
 Loop up her tresses 
 Escaped from the comb, 
 Her fair auburn tresses : 
 Whilst wonderment guesses 
 Where was her home ? 
 
 Who was her father ? 
 Who was her mother ? 
 Had she a sister ? 
 Had she a brother ? 
 Or was there a dearer one 
 Still, and a nearer one 
 Yet, than all other ? 
 
 Alas for the rarity 
 Of Christian charity 
 Under the sun ! 
 Oh 1 it was pitiful ! 
 Near a whole city full. 
 Home she had none. 
 
 *■*•: 
 
 Sisterly, brotherly, 
 Fatherly, motherly. 
 Feelings had changed : 
 Love, by harsh evidence, 
 Thrown from its eminence ; 
 Even God's providence 
 Seeming estranged. 
 
 
• ^ 
 
 THE NIGHT-HAWK. 203 
 
 Where the lamps quiver 
 
 So far in the river, 
 
 With may a light 
 
 From window and casement, 
 
 From garret to basement, 
 
 She stood with amazement, 
 
 Houseless by night. 
 
 The bleak wind of March 
 
 Made her tremble and shiver ; 
 
 But not the dark arch, 
 
 Or the black-flowing river : 
 
 Mad from life's history. 
 
 Glad to death's mystery, 
 
 Swift to be hurled — 
 
 Any where, any where, *«* . 
 
 Out of the world ! ' • 
 
 Li she plunged boldly, 
 No matter how coldly 
 The rough river ran, — 
 Over the brink of it, 
 Picture it, — think of it. 
 Dissolute man ! 
 Lave in it, drink of it 
 Then if you can ! 
 
 ^- 
 
 Take her up tenderly, 
 Lift her with care ; 
 Fashioned so slenderly, 
 Young and so fair ! 
 Ere her limbs frigidly 
 28 
 
204 THE NIGHT-HAWK. 
 
 Stiffen too rigidly, 
 Decently, — ^kindly, 
 Smooth and compose them : 
 And her eyes, close them. 
 Staring so blindly ! 
 
 
 Dreadfully staring 
 Through muddy impurity, 
 As when with the daring 
 Last look of despairing 
 Fixed on futurity. 
 
 Perishing gloomily, 
 Spurred by contumely, 
 Cold inhumanity, 
 Burning insanity 
 Into her rest. 
 Cross her hands humbly, 
 As if praying dumbly. 
 Over her breast ! 
 
 Owning her weakness, 
 Her evil behaviour, 
 And leaving, with meekness. 
 Her sins to her Saviour ! 
 
 W. A. S. 
 
 
 . 'y- 
 
^ 
 
 \ 
 
 ■m 
 
/.',// 
 
 SIUW IBIMIE) 
 
 %. 
 
.#. ' 
 
 fr, ^ 
 
 THE SUN BIRD. 
 
 (PILIUS WALLACEI.) 
 
 We have heard of the Sun-fish, the Sun-flower, and the Sonney : , 
 but in no Christian country was ever a Sun-bird heard of ere this. 
 The " Bird of the Sun," it is true, is our national deity — ^in modem 
 mythology — and hence the ' Eagle' is a type of Liberty : but because 
 it is so, it does not follow that the EgaHt^ of the Eagle is the Sun- 
 bird. We can trace no relationship between the two, unless a sort 
 of cousinship, third removed. The Eagle is the Bird of Liberty; 
 yes, that's the first proposition. Wallace bled for Liberty; yes, 
 that's the second proposition, the second removed. Then the blood 
 for Liberty is a connection in a third degree with the blood of 
 Liberty : consequently, Wallace, the " Sun-bird," is third cousin to 
 the " Bird of the Sun." Q. E. D. 
 
 We have said that the Sun-bird is rare in Christian countries. It 
 is known to exist in Africa — a benighted country : hence a bird of a 
 
 ■•#■ 
 
206 THE SUN BIRD. 
 
 benighted country is a bird of night. Now, a bird of night is the 
 Owl ; which leaves us in the unpleasant position of showing that the 
 Sun-bird is an Owl. Sir "Wallace, then, is the proper prefix of the 
 bird. Sir Wallace Sunbird ! Why ! because to be knighted is to be 
 made a "Sir." K this bird is the ofispring of a benighted country, 
 is it sir-tain (which is the old Norman-french, we suppose, for) ^^tohe 
 knighted .?" 
 
 * We do not know why it is there are so few Sun-birds in this 
 latitude. The " daily issue" of the " Sun"-bird would assume a large 
 progeny ; but we expect they all go to waste, or waste away, but 
 never decline, however. This subject is so full of astounding con- 
 tradictions, and physico-theological enigmas, and physiological 
 abstruseness, and ornithological metaphysics, that we beg to leave its 
 further discussion to those who are under the " daily press" of such 
 investigations. .,. 
 
 > -i- 
 
r fc 
 
'XT T) W^ k -WAR IB Ih K IB 
 
^.' 
 
 «t*1iJ 
 
 '* Jk^ 
 
 THE CATOEN WARBLER.' 
 
 (histrionia festiva.) 
 
 Like the prudent but generous host of old, wno reserved his 
 "supernaculum" till the end of the feast, in order that the tastes of 
 his guests might not be offended by any adulterated mixtures before 
 taking leave, so. we, in writing our last remarks in the concluding 
 number of " The Comic Natural History," select for and present to 
 our thousand-and-eleven readers, a "stirrup-cup," with which all will 
 be pleased, if on the score of gallantry alone. On this occasion, we 
 must regard our readers in the secondary character of guests, — our- 
 self the host, and the subject before us our farewell offering; in 
 doing so, however, we make no sacrifice on the " altar" of the original, 
 we only present each of you with a copy thereof, being the nearest 
 approach we can make to it. 
 
 Lest some of those individuals who are anxious to see each number 
 as it is published, (but who never by any chance buy one,) and who 
 
208 THE CATORN WARBLER. 
 
 are assiduous in their labors to make you acquainted with every little 
 error and impropriety, (but who carefully conceal all that's witty 
 and striking in illustration) — lest these should debate the correctness 
 of the title of our chapter — as doubtless they will — ^we beg to state, 
 that it is the "very latest style" of "orthography," applied to "on*"- 
 ithology. The characters most in use, would render the name thus, 
 " Kate Horn's Warbler." — This appellation doubtless had its origin 
 in some cockney sportsman, who for the most part 
 
 " Nickname Heaven's creatures, 
 * ' And make their wantonness their ignorance ;" 
 
 but having " the London Stamp" upon it, we presume our novel 
 classification wiU be sneered at as an innovation : to save all which, 
 we will compromise the question, by pursuing our " bird," under the 
 title by which it will be at once recognized. 
 
 The " Kate Horn Warbler" is not so much celebrated for its sing- 
 ing qualities, as it is for its " general " musical voice, which appeals 
 to the soul at once, and " enlists" you in its "caws." Its size is fine 
 and commanding ; in shape, every thing the heart could desire ; head 
 nicely proportioned ; breast — but we refer our readers to the artist's 
 portraying, lest in being too prolific in our labors, we detract from 
 his merits. If we err not, this beautiful " Warbler" was first intro- 
 duced to the public, by that great connoisseur, Mitchell, of Olympic 
 notoriety, in the Empire City; he also introduced many others of equal, 
 and some of greater celebrity; the "Taylor Bird," in No. 3, for 
 example ; also the (Mose) " Girafle" in No. 1. But to return, — the 
 " Kate Horn" warbler does not often fi'equent our city's limits ; she 
 paid us a "flying" visit in the spring, however, nestling in the 
 " Walnut" grove ; her stay, though short, was long enough to make 
 all the old " bird catchers' " fingers itch to get hold of her, seeing 
 which, off she " flew" again, saying, " I'm not to be caught !" Many 
 "sparks" followed her "track," but they were all left behind in 
 despair ; most of them, we have every reason to believe, were magic- 
 
THE CATORN WARBLER. 209 
 
 ally transformed into a certain " green" grasshopper kind of insect, 
 for they answered every interrogation, by saying "Katy-did" — 
 " Katy-did." But what the mischief it was she did, we have never 
 yet found out ; perhaps by the time this volume undergoes a second 
 edition, we may be able to communicate the fact, — ^if not, the reader 
 may make up his mind that "Katy-didn't." We remember seeing 
 her in a beautiful " Garden" in New York, but there was too much 
 jrm(w)-idity about her to set her off to advantage ; at other times we 
 have strolled into the "Park," where she had every reason to 
 *^ plume" herself on the favorable impression she created. Often, 
 when thinking of her beauties and attractions, we have been sur- 
 prised to see the 14th of February come again and again, without 
 this " Warbler" having found her " mate" ; — we were at a loss to 
 account for it, till, of a sudden it came into our mind that, in this 
 age of Temperance and Father Matthew-dom, the " taking a Horn" 
 is strongly prohibited. (Firemen "exempt.") Were we in the 
 singular number — and there are a number who will not think us 
 singular — ^we would not wait the return of Leap Year to be asked to 
 "take a Horn;" but acting on the principle that, if the water won't 
 come to the man, the man must go to the water, we would (speaking 
 nautically) "round the Horn," and boldly offer ourself; if put 
 " aback," (nautically again) we should rush wildly out, — "take a 
 Horn" in spite of every thing — think a little — swear a great deal 
 more — several " little Horns" would appear in rapid succession, but 
 like Othello, 
 
 " Our great revenge had stomach for them all •" 
 
 then sleep and dream of "matchless" Kate, and "Horns of plenty" 
 or " plenty of Horns," which are one and the same thing, and all in 
 the family. In conclusion, we cannot restrain our selfishness, but 
 candidly express our wish and desire that this pleasing " warbler" 
 would come and " perch" among us here in the City of Brotherly 
 Love. Can New York boast of greater inducements than we can offer? 
 
210 THE CATORN WARBLER. 
 
 — let US know, for we are not easily outdone. If money is the object, 
 that is easily settled, for that is made easily here, and abundantly ; 
 in fact, to use a hackneyed phrase, "people coin money here" — 
 because we have the " Mint." If nothing will induce you to come, 
 " pretty bird," aU that we can say is, that we hope you will " fly" 
 over as often as you can, and let us have an occasional peep at you. 
 May you enjoy happiness and prosperity, during a life of usefulness 
 to others, thereby ensuring a double share of comfort to yourself In 
 this cordial wish hundreds are joined ; not least among the number, 
 is your friend 
 
 * . • T. McK. 
 
 \ 
 
 •• .^ 
 
 
i- 
 
A.LHJ- H'OUS^^UtS^ 
 
 Irh, i«. '•■'»;',•■< *j-,,, it 
 
 ill^MS Ha&ITSE IBJIIKP 
 
itt* 
 
 * * 
 
 THE ALMS-HOUSE BIRD. 
 
 (PAUPERTINUS CONCEDENS.) 
 
 There are few, among what are termed enlightened men, who 
 believe in " destiny" — in that " blind chance" which controls the direc- 
 tion and end of man, in his flight through life. There are many to 
 be found of a far less degree of intellectual superiority, who regard 
 the cause of their flight, and the final resting place, as obedient to a 
 power, which, under the name of ^ destiny,' exerts, as it is said, an 
 influence, opposed as it must be to every idea, of mental or moral 
 self-agency. Singularly blessed to the enervated mind and character 
 of those of this latter class, must assuredly be a doctrine, which thus 
 palliates, excuses, or justifies an inertia, that leaves man to the efiects 
 of causes over which he seeks to make no effort for control. It may 
 not be improperly said, that destiny is an occult influence, which 
 belongs to the instinct world ; but over that creation of Immortal 
 
1 
 
 212 THE ALMS-HOUSEBIRD. 
 
 Mind, a far different principle exerts its power. Of man it has been 
 too truly said, 
 
 J " There is a divinity which shapes our ends, 
 
 . Rough hew them as we may." 
 
 We have prefaced our remarks on the Alms-house Bird, by the 
 foregoing reflections, very much under the same motive that begets 
 a " preface" to a book ; in the which one reads the how, the why, and 
 the wherefore the said book was written. 
 
 Now, of all the birds that flock to that great bird-cage, where 
 some feed — sleep — ^hatch their eggs — and hibernate ; and from which, 
 at proper intervals, they migrate, scarce one will be found who does 
 not attribute his being there, to "destiny," the "luck," or "fate" of 
 every-day life. 
 
 You see, on the Broadway of the city, a youth of good appearance, 
 hair on his chin and lip, and head oiled and perfumed, patent 
 leather boots, a rakish looking coat, and hat sleek and shining, with a 
 tinge on his cheek, and a redness of the eye — walking listlessly, 
 without aim, object or motive. His life is passed between a neglected 
 home, a saloon, or a theatre. He drinks with his compeers, smokes 
 for his society, dreads the aloneitiveness of his chamber, and seeks 
 dissipation in every form, to excite or amuse. Thus waging a relent- 
 less war against time, in the vain hope of " killing it ;" his mind 
 unregulated or unimproved ; no thought except for the billiards or 
 the brandy ; careless about the present, regardless of the future, and 
 no disposition to contemplate the past. His support is to be found 
 in very limited means, baseless credit, a taste for borrowing, in the 
 hope that on the billiard table, some " pool" of Bethesada may cure 
 his ills — associating with debts due, the idea of borrowing to pay 
 them. 
 
 Stop this young man in the morning of a day — ^reason with him 
 on his conduct, and ask him as to his prospects ? The answer will 
 ever be found in the listless, desponding, heart-sickening exclama- 
 
i 
 
 THE ALMS-HOUSE BIRD. 213 
 
 tion, "'Tis my destiny ! why try to change my luck? fate is against 
 me." Let a few years pass. Go to the Alms-house bird-cage. See, 
 perched upon a bench, a bloated, wretched, debased, degraded 
 inebriate ; his feathers are plucked out, his body scarcely covered 
 by a fragment of its proper covering, tattered and torn, — its face dis- 
 torted, discolored and diseased, — the eye swollen, and vacant and 
 lustreless. He has winged his course under this fatal influence, and 
 now, gathering around him only that solace which is drawn from a 
 faith in such " a destiny," the " Alms-hmme Bird'' has sought and 
 found, the fitting nest of such novitiate. 
 
 Or, if in your walks through life, you see an amiable, social, self- 
 conceited man, the dupe of artful frauds, with a good business that 
 supplies all his wants, and more — the family at home, happy in an 
 ample support ; sad only in the thought that husband and father 
 avoids their society and neglects his duties. If perchance you dis- 
 cover that this man indulges in innocent amusements, is given only 
 to occasional irregularity, that his constant associates are " good fel- 
 lows," and his accustomed resorts are those places where appetite, 
 lust, play, late suppers and like extravagancies, are ever the house- 
 hold words, — money spent, lost, unpaid and squandered, business 
 gone, family broken-up and destitute, the father a shame to his 
 children, the misery of the wife, the despised of his boon companions, 
 and the avoided of his real friends. Day by day he drags his indi- 
 viduality and his ignominy from street to street — ^poor in the worst 
 sense of poverty, — aching with disease of body, distracted by disease 
 of mind, — a spectacle to the passer-by, in his downcast look, his 
 abandon-air — his wretched garb, and his dismal, dark, woe-foreboding 
 prospects — when you see such a character in such condition, then, as 
 in a last effort for life, miserable and outcast as it is, he raises his 
 feeble wmgs and flutters, an " Alms-house Bird," into an existence 
 without a hope, the child of this " destiny." 
 
 A visit to this pauper aviary, is not time lost. Much is said about 
 the economy of Nature, but there is no economy like that of the 
 
214 THE ALMS-HOUSE BIED. 
 
 Guardians of the Poor! The "wards" under their charge are no 
 spendthrifts — this power has been exercised too well. All that is left 
 of it is the task of " spending their days" — an outlay, that " costs" 
 nothing but sighs and soliloquies. These birds warble only but one 
 note, — on the same " key" — ^which is, so far as " keepers" and " kept'' 
 are concerned, is a " see-sharp." Their plumage is remarkable ; it is 
 always the same color, a pepper-and-salt mixture. Their food is 
 coarse, the seed given is the re-seed-uum of the markets, which, in 
 satisfying their appetites, rarely suc-seed-s, as it is beyond all doubt, 
 that there are many pre-seed-ents for every de-seed-ent. 
 
 The young birds are numerous in this bird cage. Very. It is a 
 singular feature in the history of these little ones, that at their being 
 hatched, they are almost always nameless. Although they belong to 
 a well ascertained genus — being each of that class called "nulUus 
 JiliusJ" Their maternity is known, but the paternity is often a matter 
 of serious doubt, and gives rise to many trials, to determine — and 
 when they are over, it is often " farther"-off than ever. We have 
 known twelve men make a man a father, when he could not do it 
 for himself. So much for " penal" laws. What is most astounding 
 in the history of these little Alms-house Birds, has been related by 
 one well acquainted with the " subject." He says : — " It has been 
 known as a fact, that a white female bird, has hatched an egg which 
 gave a white female young bird, the offspring of — " black-mail." It is 
 asserted so to be, on the authority of some " duck," who has been 
 "plucked," and ought to know. We could give more credit to the 
 assertion, if " A Goose" had " endorsed" either the black-mail or the 
 story. 
 
 We have spoken of a visit to this bird-cage, and have noted three 
 kind of birds, which have attracted the attention of visitors. Well, 
 surely we have done all that could be expected of us. No book of 
 travels, no letter to the Editor of " the widely-circulating Journal," 
 has ever furnished to its readers, more on such a subject, than 
 we have given. Now, it is a very hard thing to write on " The 
 
THE ALMS-HOUSE BIRD. 215 
 
 Alms-house Bird" — where's the fun in such a poor subject — ^poverty- 
 stricken in every sense ? Fun in an Alms-house Bird ! ! Fun ? 
 What on earth ever induced an Editor of a Comic History, to take 
 an Alms-house Bird as a fit subject for his book ? A good deal more 
 like a " subject to fits." It is most properly located as the last plate 
 — for no one ever went to the Alms-house till after its last plate. 
 Therefore, we expect to be under the " press'-ing necessity of getting 
 " a card" to admit " self." No ! no ! we forget. Editors are on the 
 ''free list." 
 
 It is by no means, of course it is, no means lead to the means, 
 to get into the Alms-house. It is by no means certain, that one of 
 these days, when the wind is East, a flock of birds will be discovered 
 in the air, just over the house tops, going west. The close observer, 
 or rather an observer that is close enough, will discover our Editor, 
 our Author, our Publisher, and Ourself — the Printer is in another 
 flock — all " destined," ^. e., under the influence of his " destiny," im- 
 pelled to the aviary on the banks of the Schuylkill. It must be so, 
 or else the far-seeing Author would never have so singularly and 
 prophetically arranged, after " Gold-fish," and " Larks," and " Hum- 
 bugs," and "Suckers," and "Sharks," and "Terrapins," "Wharf 
 Rats" and "Jail-birds," and "Gallows-birds," and ^^Literary-birds" 
 that the end was an " Alms-house Bird" Too true, indeed, we fear 
 will be the " fate" of our efibrts, that we shall be obliged to invite 
 the custody of the Guardians of the Ibor. In fact, we are forced to 
 relate it, one of that body of men has been after us already. He 
 charges us, we hear, with being the father of a " Legalrbird" and as 
 most of these birds can't support themselves, and become a charge on 
 the city, he, as a Guardian of the Poor, wants us to give security for 
 its maintenance. We can't do it ; but as the " King" can do no 
 wrong, we expect the King is right in " taking surety," if he can 
 get it. All we have to offer, is a complete set of this Comic Natural 
 History. This ought to be ample — unless it be thought insolvent 
 and worthless, under the vulgar notion, that he who begins in " Law," 
 
216 THE ALMS-HOUSE BIRD. 
 
 will end in the " Alms-house." Our History gives color to that idea, 
 if you contrast the first and the last picture of the series. Melan- 
 choly reflection ! Sorry sight! There's no wonder we can't make 
 any " fun" or " comicality" at " this present writing." Who ought 
 to expect it? Whoever he may be, just let him transform himself 
 into a " Literary-bird," live by his pen, use his quills to get his bread, 
 and ere long, instead of bread he'll get " a stone ;" his quills will be 
 found to be " bills," and all his " articles" together, however much 
 they may be food for the mind, will not suffice for a mouthful for the 
 body. A garret, a cellar, or an alley, will shelter him from the 
 storm, and " at the end," he will discover himself in all the pecu- 
 liarities of style of the " Alms-house Bird." 
 
 Kind reader ! we have closed our History — and with it, the leaves 
 of our book are full. Our purse is empty. We have made the first 
 efibrt in a species of Comic Literature, hitherto unknown in our city. 
 We have spared neither time nor exertion, — mind and hands have 
 been taxed to their utmost. Hope whispered, we should succeed. 
 I'ear, that we would fail. We " drew" from our fancy on the canvas, 
 and canvassed our fancy in that " type," which seemed to ofier a 
 favorable reception from the public. Our course is run — the " end is 
 come," and whether it be " fate," luck," or " destiny," or all or either, 
 we know not, it surely can't be that " divinity" so to shape our end. 
 We find ourself, with the exclamation "I'm off!" in our mouth, 
 nothing in our pocket, with an empty stomach, and an exhausted 
 mind, pen blunt, and pencil sharpless, — an " Alms-house Bird." 
 
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