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replied the officer, coolly; "it is the joiner I want."
"SQUASHY."
Squashy was a contraband. He came from North Carolina. He was looking about Was.h.i.+ngton for "a new ma.s.ser," when Dr. ----, of ---- regiment C.
V., took him for a body servant.
[Ill.u.s.tration: SQUASHY'S SURGICAL OPERATION ON THE DOCTOR.]
The doctor was out on horseback at parade that very day, and the most that Squashy had as yet learned of his master was, that he was handsome.
"Dat's him! Dar's my new ma.s.ser! see um! see um! ridin' on hoss-back, dar!" exclaimed the contraband to a host of other negroes watching the parade.
That night, when the doctor returned to his quarters, Squashy came to a.s.sist in removing some of the superfluous and dirt-covered garments of his new master, amongst which were his heavy and mud-splashed boots.
The doctor was a joker. "Now, what's your name, boy?"
"Squashy, sar; dat's what dey called me, sar," replied the contraband, showing a gorgeous row of ivories, and the whites of two great, globular eyes.
"Well, Squashy,--that's a very appropriate name,--just pull off these boots. Left one first. There--pull! hard! harder!--There she comes! Now the other; now pull; it always comes the hardest; pull strong--stronger--now it's coming--O, murder! you've pulled my whole leg out!"
Sure enough, the boot, leg and all, came off at the thigh, and slap!
cras.h.!.+ bang! over backwards, over a camp-stool, on to the floor, went Squashy, with the boot and wooden leg of the doctor grasped tightly in his brawny hands.
"O, de Lord!" cried Squashy, rising. "I didn't go for to do it! O, Lord, see um bleed!" he continued, as in the uncertain light he saw a bit of red flannel round the stump; and, dropping the leg, he turned, and with a look of the utmost terror depicted on his countenance, he fled from the apartment.
On the following day the doctor made diligent inquiry for Squashy; but he never was found, and probably to this day thinks he pulled out the leg of his "new and hansum ma.s.ser."
We do not know who wrote the following which is too good to be lost; hence we give it anonymously.
MOTHER'S FOOL.
"'Tis plain enough to see," said a farmer's wife, "These boys will make their marks in life; They never were made to handle a hoe, And at once to college ought to go.
There's Fred, he's little better than a fool, But John and Henry must go to school."
"Well, really, wife," quoth farmer Brown, As he set his mug of cider down, "Fred does more work in a day for me Than both his brothers do in three.
Book larnin' will never plant one's corn, Nor hoe potatoes, sure's you're born, Nor mend a rod of broken fence: For my part, give me common sense."
But his wife was bound the roost to rule, And John and Henry were sent to school, While Fred, of course, was left behind, Because his mother said he had no mind.
Five years at school the students spent, Then into business each one went.
John learned to play the flute and fiddle, And parted his hair, of course, in the middle, While his brother looked rather higher than he, And hung out a sign, "H. Brown, M. D."
Meanwhile, at home, their brother Fred Had taken a notion into his head; But he quietly trimmed his apple trees, Milked the cows and hived the bees; While somehow, either by hook or crook, He managed to read full many a book, Until at last his father said He was getting "book larnin'" into his head; "But for all that," added farmer Brown, "He's the smartest boy there is in town."
The war broke out, and Captain Fred A hundred men to battle led, And, when the rebel flag came down, Went marching home as General Brown.
But he went to work on the farm again, And planted corn and sowed his grain; He s.h.i.+ngled the barn and mended the fence, Till people declared he had common sense.
Now common sense was very rare, And the State House needed a portion there; So the "family dunce" moved into town, The people called him Governor Brown; And his brothers, who went to the city school, Came home to live with "mother's fool."
WHO IT WAS.
There is an anecdote told of Dr. Emmons, one of the most able of New England divines, meeting a Pantheistical physician at the house of a sick paris.h.i.+oner. It was no place for a dispute. It was no place for any unbecoming familiarity with the minister. It was no place for a physician to inquire into the age of the minister, especially with any intent of entangling him in a debate; and, above all, where the querist was too visionary for any logical discussion. But the abrupt question of the Pantheist was, "Mr. Emmons, how old are you?"
"Sixty, sir; and how old are you?" came the quick reply.
"As old as creation, sir," was the triumphant response.
"Then you are of the same age with Adam and Eve."
"Certainly; I was in the garden when they were."
"I have always heard that there was a third party in the garden with them, but I never knew before that it was you."
A HEAVY DOCTOR.
Dr. Stone, of Savannah, walked into the river at Savannah, and, like other stones, was about to sink, when he was romantically rescued by a brave lady.
SCOTTISH HOSPITALITY.
The Scotch people--even the females--are great smokers, and female tobacco-users are not considered the embodiment of neatness.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "WILL YE TAK' A BLAST NOO?"]
The Countess of A., with a laudable desire to promote tidiness in the various cottages on her estate, used to visit them periodically, and exhort the inmates to cleanliness. One cottage was always found especially untidy; and getting, perhaps, the least out of patience, the countess took up a brush-broom, and having by its dexterous use made the room much improved, she turned to the housewife, who, with pipe between her lips, had been sitting on a stool, with body bent forward, her elbows on her knees, and her chin resting in the palms of her hands, watching the proceeding. The Countess said,--
"There, my good woman, is it not much better?"
"Ay, my leddy," said the woman, nodding her head, and rising, she stepped towards the countess, drew the pipe from her mouth, and wiping it with her brawny palm, presented it, saying,--
"An' will ye tak' a blast noo, my leddy?"
ANIMALS IN THE STOMACH.
Most physicians scout the idea of terrestrial animals or reptiles living in one's stomach. The wife of Captain Hodgden, of Mount Desert, presented the writer with a singular looking reptile some three inches in length, looking not unlike an earwig, excepting having two horns on its head, which animal she said crawled from her mouth the night previous. She declared for years that there was a live animal in her stomach, and attributed its dislodgment to the use of some bitters (Chelone glabra).
A nice old lady called at our office one day, some years ago, during my absence, and informed Dr. Colley, who was attending my patients temporarily, that she had a live animal in her stomach. The doctor tells the story as follows:--
"'Now don't you laugh at me, doctor, 'cause all the doctors do, and I know it ain't no whim nor notion I've got in my _head_, but a real live animal I've got into my stomach,' she said.
"I looked at the good old lady, and could not find it in my heart to tell her she was laboring under a delusion, therefore I replied, very sympathetically,--
[Ill.u.s.tration: REPTILES FROM THE STOMACH.]