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determined to dirk not only Higginbottom and his wife, and Winterbottom, and Oddy, and their wives; but all the young Higginbottoms, Winterbottoms, Oddys, and little Oddities. It was some years before Ramsbottom could get them all together, so as to make one job of it. At last he collected the whole party at his own house, to spend their Christmas eve, and determined to execute his diabolical purpose. It appears, however, from what followed, that he had previously changed his mind as to the dirking, probably because it was too much trouble, (for these democrats hate trouble above all things.) Just as they were up to the eyes in a Christmas pye, the explosion took place, which I had just heard, and the whole party, Ramsbottom, Higginbottom, Winterbottom, and Oddy, together with their wives, and all the little Ramsbottoms, Winterbottoms, Higginbottoms, Oddys, and Oddities, were all blown into such small atoms, that not a vestige of them was to be found. I saw their bodies afterwards, all terribly mangled and torn to pieces. Such is the intense and never-dying spirit of vengeance, generated by the turbulent spirit of democracy, that the desperado, Ramsbottom, it appears, did not scruple, like the republican Sampson of old, to pull down destruction on himself, that he might be revenged on his enemies.

At Portsmouth our traveller accidentally discovers, that he is rather out of the direct route to New Orleans, and begins to entertain some suspicion that he has not yet reached Charleston, South Carolina. He accordingly retraces his steps, delaying his outset for one day, for the purpose of avoiding the Frenchman, whom he suspects of a design upon his purse. But fate decreed that his precaution should be vain. Being obliged to set out before daylight, for the greater convenience of highwaymen and pickpockets, he had no opportunity of reconnoitring his companions. While riding with his hands in his pockets, with the ingenious intention of baffling every furtive attempt, he tells us, that

A sudden jolt of the jarvie brought my head in full contact with the back of a passenger on the seat before me. 'Diable!' exclaimed a voice which seemed to be familiar to me, and then all was silent again, Not long after, there exploded a sneeze, which shook the whole vehicle. 'My G-d!' ejaculated I, I'm sure I've heard that sneeze before; it must be my little Frenchman!'-But there was no help for it now, and I determined to keep him at an awful distance.

The unusual and somewhat awkward posture already alluded to, being continued, even after daylight appeared, excited some remark among the inmates of the leathern conveniency.

'He must have his pockets full of guineas,' said the little Frenchman in a whisper, winking at the same time at the communicative traveller. I understood all this perfectly, and when we stopped to dine, managed to exhibit a neat pair of hair triggers to these two worthies, who exchanged very significant looks thereupon. It won't do,' observed one to the other, in a desponding tone.

The hair triggers do good service. The following night he is near vacating half a dozen offices, civil, military, and religious, by "letting fly" at the driver abovementioned, as he is groping his way to the kitchen fire, by which our hero had undauntedly stood guard, during the whole night, over himself and baggage, with the "barkers" ready cocked and primed. Luckily coachy dodged, like a king-bird, at the flash, and the matter was hushed up by a pint of whiskey.

Having arrived again in safety at Boston, and staid three days to give the Frenchman and the banditti a fair start, he once more sets forward in the " stage," and pursues his jour ney through the states of Ohio, Alabama, and Connecticut. In this last state, in "the very centre," as he observes, "of steady habits," he is thus assaulted.

Although it was Sunday, (a sufficient reason for deterring any christian highwayman), we were stopped by a footpad, who demanded money with as little compunction as a he-wolf. Upon my showing my pistols, however, he sheered off, and the driver whipping up his horses at the moment, we luckily escaped this time. The incident of a single footpad attempting thus to rob a whole stage load of people, furnishes another proof of the fact, that stage-drivers and stage-owners, not to say a majority of stage-passengers, are accomplices of these bands of robbers. Had it not been for my pistols, we should all have been robbed to a certainty, and most probably the rest of the passengers would have shared my spoils. What exhibits the turbulence and impious spirit of democracy in all its turpitude, is the fact, that the driver, after getting fairly out of sight, turned round to the passengers with a grin, and exclaimed, 'I guess I've distanced the deacon.' So that this footpad was one of the pillars of the church!

"What must be the priest," might our traveller exclaim, "where a monkey is the god? What must be the congregation of a church, when the heads of it are footpads, and what must be the dissolute habits of a country, when the steady ones are Sabbath-breaking and highway robbery ?" This incident, to speak more seriously, is such a one as might easily have happened to an Englishman in Massachusetts, if not in Connecticut, a few years since, and we wonder that a similar story has never figured, with appropriate remarks, on the pages of those amusing writers, whom we mentioned, about the commencement of this article, and who are evidently much better acquainted with the nature of tithes, than of tithingmen.

But we are losing sight of our unfortunate hero, whom we shall now again permit to tell his own story, taking the liberty to omit a few sentences, which we think less interesting.

About five in the afternoon we arrived at Bellows Falls, at the mouth of the Ohio, where I embarked in the steam-boat for New York. These steam-boats, all the world knows, were invented by Isaac Watts, who wrote the book of psalms. Yet the spirit of democracy, as usual, has claimed the honour for one Moulton, or Fulton, I forget which; although it is a notorious fact, that Isaac Watts died before Fulton was born. This settles the question. But there is no stopping the mouth of a genuine democrat." * * *

While sitting in a state of indolent and contemptuous abstraction, with my back to as many of the company as possible, I was roused by a sneeze, that I could have sworn to in any part of the world. "It is the cd little Frenchman! Here's Monsieur Tonson come again !" I would as soon have heard the last trumpet as this infernal explosion. In a few minutes he espied me, and coming up with the most provoking expression of old acquaintanceship, offered me a pinch of snuff" Ah! Monsieur, I am happy! Diable !-my friend and I thought we had lost our agrceable companion. * ** You don't know how we have missed your agreeable society. Diable! we have not had a good laugh since we parted.

* * *

Towards evening the boat stopped at a place called the city of Annapolis. ***As we approached the wharf, I was standing among a coil of ropes, with my back towards the great city, when one of those sticklers for equality, in a red flannel shirt came up and desired me to move out of the way. The fellow was civil enough, for that matter, but I only answered his impertinent intrusion with a look of withering contempt.-Upon this, he gathered a part of the rope in coils, in his right hand, and when we were ten or a dozen yards from the wharf, threw it with all his force, with a design to knock a person down, who stood there. But the chap was too dexterous for him, and caught the end of the rope in his hands, which he immediately fastened to a post. The whole brunt of this Yankee joke fell upon me, for my feet being entangled in the end of the rope thus thrown, it tripped up my heels and laid me sprawling on the deck. The little Frenchman officiously helped me up, and offered me a pinch of snuff, by way of comfort; but as for the democratic gentry, they seemed rather to enjoy the thing, and if the truth was known, I dare say were at the bottom of the joke.

On the following night the grand attempt, as our author supposes, was made on his person and property by the artful Frenchman; but in vain. Neither the hair-triggers nor their master were asleep, and Monsieur narrowly escaped with his life. The man of snuff and compliments endeavours to explain the mistake which occasioned the catastrophe, but Mr Bull feels satisfied that nothing but powder and ball saved him from murder and robbery.

Having thus far accompanied our traveller, we begin to perceive, that our limits will not allow such close attendance to the time of his mysterious disappearance. We can only notice a few things, which occurred to us as most remarkable. Among these, is the following account of the Indian summer.

Such is the extent of this practice of smoking tobacco, that at a certain period of the year, during the autumn, when the people of the country have finished gathering in the products of their fields, and their leisure time comes, they commence a smoking festival, in which every man, woman, and child partakes. These festivals last five or six weeks, during which time the atmosphere throughout the whole extent of the country becomes so hazy, and obscure, that they are obliged to burn candles all day, and a perpetual drizzle prevails, owing to the unseemly habit of spitting, which all our English travellers have heretofore noticed among these immaculate republicans. This season is called the Indian summer.

It will be seen by the following quotation, that Mr Faux gives a different account of this matter.

The season called the Indian Summer, which here commences in October, by a dark blue, hazy atmosphere, is caused by millions of acres, for thousands of miles round, being in a wide-spreading, flaming, blazing, smoky fire, rising up through wood and prairie, hill and dale, to the tops of low shrubs and trees, which are kindled by the coarse, thick, long, prairie grass, and dying leaves at every point of the compass, and far beyond the foot of civilization, darkening the air, heavens and earth, over the whole extent of the northern and part of the southern continent, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and in neighbourhoods contiguous to the all-devouring deflagration, filling the whole horizon with yellow, palpable, tangible smoke, ashes, and vapour, which affect the eyes of man and beast, and obscure the sun, moon, and stars for many days, or until the winter rains descend to quench the fire and purge the thick, ropy air, which is seen, tasted, handled, and felt.

Faux's Memorable Days &c.

Faucibus ingentem fumum, mirabile dictu,
Evomit; involvitque yankees caligine cæcâ.

This is worse than tobacco smoke. But to proceed, our author meets again, at Philadelphia, with the diabolical Ramsbottom, who destroys, as above related, the little Oddys, &c. and at Bristol and Washington the same detestable massacre is perpetrated, in the same manner, and by the same person. It is, however, no very uncommon thing for English travellers to meet with the same circumstance in very different parts of the union, probably on account of the great similarity of manners throughout the United States. These are but a few of the extraordinary details of this eventful tour. But we close our quotations with the following, which is a part of an English emigrant's story of his disasters, as related to the

author.

"I put my four acres into such order as never had been seen before. It was a perfect garden. The rows were as straight as arrows, and there was not a clod of earth above ground as large as an egg to be seen. Every body came to admire, but as yet nobody imitated

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me,—such is the ignorant and insolent obstinacy of the Yankee farmers. Friend," said my neighbour, the old quaker-" friend Shortridge, what art thou going to put into thy field here?"

"Ruta baga."

"Ruta baga! what is that, friend John?"

"Turnips," replied I.

"Well, why didn't thee call them so at first? If thou talkest Latin here, nobody will understand thee, friend John. But what art thou going to do with thy turnips?”

"I shall feed my cattle, sheep, and hogs with some, and sell the rest to my neighbours."

"But thy neighbours will raise their own turnips, and will not buy.” "Then I will send them to market.'

"What, sixty miles, over a turnpike? That will be a bad speculation, friend John. Thee had best put in a few acres of wheat and corn, they will pay the expense of taking to market. Thy turnips will cost more than they will come to.'

"Not I, indeed, friend Underhill,” said I. "Sir Humphrey Davy says

there is little or no nourishment in wheat and corn."

"No!" quoth the old quaker, with a sly glance at his round portly fig ure; "I have lived upon them all my life, and I never made the discovery, friend John.”

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My ruta baga flourished to the admiration of the whole neighbourhood, and when I came to gather my crop in the fall, there was a heap as high as a hay-stack. Some of them measured eighteen inches in diameter. I was as proud as a peacock, for I had now done something for the honour of old England. I determined to give my cattle, sheep, and hogs, a great feast, and invited my good neighbour, the quaker, to see how they would eat ruta baga. A quantity was nicely cut up and thrown to them one morning, but to my astonishment and mortification, not one would touch a morsel. Whether it was that they had become spoiled by a fine season of grass, I cannot tell; but the bull turned up his nose-the cows turned their backs, and so did the sheep, while the pigs ran away screaming mightily. Thee should set them to reading Sir Humphrey Davy, friend John,' quoth my neighbour-they hav'n't learning enough to relish thy Latin turnips.'

Some of our readers may imagine, that the caricature of certain modern books of travels, which is presented by John Bull in America, is rather too extravagant, but it is not so; the Memorable Days, above alluded to, are very little behind either this, or the original Munchausen, in the marvellous. Indeed we should have taken Faux's work for a burlesque, without the smallest hesitation, if we had not been assured to the contrary by the fifty-eighth number of the Quarterly.

We have intimated above, our good wishes for the pecuniary remuneration of the supposed inventor of the adventures, which have been the subject of this article, and we venture, before taking leave of him, to offer a piece of advice, which may conduce to this desirable end, and this is, that he publish an

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