"When George Yerger was in the Legislature of Mississippi, Green County was represented by an old fellow by the name of John M'Innis. Jack was a genius in his way, and though excessively green, was a very good and keen debater. One day Jack made some motion which was strenuously objected to by Mr. Yerger, and a running debate ensued. In the course of his remarks, Mr. Yerger attacked Green County, proverbially the poorest in the State of Mississippi. 'Mr. Speaker,' said he, 'I believe that Green County is so poor that if Job's turkey were to go there, in a week he would be too poor to gobble.' After the laugh had subsided M'Innis rose to reply. After some remarks in reply to Mr. Yerger, he said, 'Mr. Speaker, I heard before I come here that Mr. Yerger was a mighty smart man; but I didn't think he was the smartest man in the United States, for we've got some right smart men down in Green County. You might know that, judging from the representatives they send to the Legislature. [Laughter.] But now, I proclaim it to the House and to the country, that Mr. George Yerger is the smartest man I ever saw. For he is the only man I ever have met who could tell whether Job's turkey was a gobbler or a hen."" THE stock of "Hard Shell" sermons is inexhaustible. They are certainly spirited if not edifying, and we give them with the intention of removing the prejudice against an educated ministry. In the county of Pendleton, Virginia, where this sect is neither very numerous nor intelligent, the Rev. Mr. B was preaching a doctrinal sermon, and wishing to enforce the virtue of water, he did so somewhat in the following style: "My brethering, I was once on a time out a hunting, and I saw a great big buck come bookety, bookety, bookety [imitating the running of the deer] down the mountain, and jump right kerslosh into a stream of water and swim over, and away he went, bookety, bookety. Presently I saw a whole pack of dogs come on the buck's track as hard as they could clip it, bow wow wow, bow wow wow, and they followed the track till they got to the stream, and there they come to a dead halt. They rummaged about both sides of the stream; but as the water had washed the scent off, they couldn't smell him on the side he come out on. So the chase stopped, and the buck got safe away in the mountains. Just so it is with you, my friends. You are all a-going bookety, booketybookety, bookety, as straight down as you can go, and the devil is after you, bow wow wow, just like the dogs. But presently you get to the water, you plunge in, head and ears, and when the devil gets there the water has washed all your sins away, and he can't trail you any farther, and so you get safe home to glory." WE give the following anecdote because of its connection with a gentleman who occupies a prominent position in a quarter of our country just now out of sight, but by no means out of mind: "Many of the readers of the Monthly have heard of the wit and tact of Hon. Alexander H. Stephens, especially when on the stump. During the last contest for President, Little Alex (as he is familiarly known in Georgia), had an occasion to speak with Rance Wright. Wright's turn for speaking came, and by way of a tale he said that Mr. Stephens had said he could eat Ben Hill for breakfast, Rance Wright for dinner, and Bob Trippe for supper. Mr. Stephens possessing very little storage room, of course this brought out a shout. Mr. Stephens rose, and, after denying having made any such statement, said, if he had contemplated such a feast, he surely would have changed the order; he would have taken Ben Hill for breakfast, Bob Trippe for dinner, and remembering the advice of his mother, always to eat a light supper, he would have tipt off with his friend Colonel Wright. After this the laughter was on the other side." It is curious to notice how much we are indebted to our Southern friends for Drawer matter. "There was an old gentleman in this county who was very much opposed to fox-hunters passing through his farm, leaving his fences down, and knocking out his cotton. His negroes complained to him that 'dem fox-dogs knocked out de cotton mity bad, and he ought to stop em.' So one night he heard the horns of the hunters, and he sends negro Bob out with the gun to shoot at the dogs, as a scare for the hunters. Bob goes out and takes his stand, and along come the hunters. Bob managed to shoot off his gun near the hunters, and, for fear that he would be caught, ran home to his master. The old gentleman rested very uneasy that night for fear that Bob would be found out; so next morning he and Bob walked into the field to see the position of parties. One of the hunters, in jumping a deep ditch, had lost and left his wig, believing the old man was shooting at them sure enough. Bob, passing the place, found the wig, and hallooed to his master, 'Oh Lordy! marster, I'se killed a man! and de hogs is done eat him up all but his head!'" LADIES troubled by help can see in the following some of the difficulties encountered in the region of the "contraband:" 6 "My story is of a lady who moved from a distance into the neighborhood where she had passed her childhood, and in the hurry and confusion attending the trouble she was compelled to call in a field hand. In the midst of the confusion the lady was quite flustered' by the appearance of the wag of the neighborhood, an old friend, who complacently fixed himself to spend the day. Dinner-time came, and with it the dinner; and the lady took her seat at the head of the table, trembling for fear her new waitress should commit some terrible faux pas, which would be food for her friend's well-known love for joking. Now there happened to be on the table a dish of baked sweet potatoes, which the mistress requested to have handed to her. As if in verification of the proverb, 'To them as look for frecks, frecks will come,' the girl gave an ominous stare, made a stride or two, and taking a potato in her hand, offered it to her mistress, who took it hastily and laid it beside her plate, congratulating herself that the incident had escaped the notice of her waggish friend. "The baked potatoes!' repeated her mistress, emphatically, and as she thought distinctly, though in an undertone. With another stare and another stride the girl approached the surprised guest, and grabbing a big potato which was on his plate, carried it triumphantly off and deposited it beside her mistress! Do you think you can imagine the sensation?" TRAVELING in the western part of Georgia a few years ago, I met a "cracker," a "poor white" farmer, and asked him if he could tell me the population of that county. He answered: "Pitch, tar, and turpentine, and a right smart chance of lightood!" THE MAN IN THE ROCKING-CHAIR. ACULUS, our sweet man in the rocking-chair has a head which is so un- such a sight might have produced upon her. Not "Who may Hinney be?" inquires some rose-andlily miss, with a deepening of the rose, or, perchance, a paling of the lily on her cheek as she thinks of the estimable young magister, and the possibility of of-any thing that might happen, if, or if it were not for, et cetera. to do, singing lightly as a lark all the dear, blessed day through. Why Hinney doesn't get married I can't in the name of wonder tell, especially here, where there is a whole houseful of gentlemen (and pretty much all pedagogues); but so it is; Hinney is yet in the market; and, I know it not, but I shrewdly guess, Hinney hath her own notions and her own reasons for as yet remaining single. Now if I were not such a miserably, unfortunately bashful old bachelor myself, and withal half past the meridian of life, I know what I'd do, and that, too, without delay; but it's no use! I can't, there! She wouldn't have me, I know, if I should beg her to. Here is a man, though, that wouldn't be afraid to do it. He is our Dominus Mathematia wonderful corum worker of all sorts of throughout the land find an arithmetical, algebraical, geometrical, or conic-sectional nut with a shell too thick to penetrate, they send it to him to crack. I said "our" Dominus. He isn't exactly ours, for he don't belong in the family, nor even in the town, but he comes here occasionally to give the other pedagogues lessons (he is also one of the fraternity himself) in higher mathematics. I don't think Hinney takes lessons of him. (Another whisper to the ladies, who are, I know, pardonably curious about such matters.) If she does, I have never heard of it. I know things may happen in the world of which I may not hear. So of this momentous matter I will presume to affirm nothing positively. "What an awful hombly man! awful hombly!" "Who?" "Why, your marster of 'rithmetic 'n algebray. Who else should I mean, I sh'd like to know?" "My dear Miss! I am sorry to hear you say so. He is a most estimable as well as most remarkable man-a man that has made his mark in the world. Never assuming to be even as much as he is, to say Hinney, my dear chick, is our young lady. Here nothing of more, never seeking notice or applause, is her ambrotype, da- he, like good gold, wherever he is, is known, and guerreotype, or pho- wherever he is known, is truly prized. He is one of tograph, as you please the very best and most substantial sort of men, for to call it. She is the he is a self-made man. Who ever found pearls best housekeeper, the floating on the top of the ocean? Who ever pluckbest friend, the best ed golden apples from the beautiful mock-orange? bread-maker (hear, Who ever gathered a bouquet of the flaunting peony oh ye! Audite, O for its fragrance ?" homines, qui non sunt sub jugum matrimonium), the best keeper at home and of secrets, the best-natured girl, the best sewer-on of buttons (Audite, et attendite, O viri!) in the whole region roundabout. She gaddeth not abroad; she spinneth nither long yarns, false yarns, nor street yarn; she nither mindeth other bodies' business nor neglecteth her own; but goeth willingly and cheerfully about whatsoever her hand findeth VOL. XXIII.-No. 135.-D D* "Wa'al, any how, I wouldn't have no such looking feller as that, ef he was ever so likely. No, I'm sure I wouldn't have such a man as your Dominus, if there wa'n't another man!" "And I am quite confident that you never will have such a man as our Dominus upon any contingency. Butterflies and elephants do not mate. Surface beauty, like paint, crackles and comes off, or is defaced by time. Worth, like polished mahogany, grows handsomer as it grows older. Wise people daub no paint upon polished mahogany. They belong not together." |