0
VOL. 1. GREENVILLE. S. FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 13, 1855. NO. 48.
??g????a?x? ??a?wnawayai w?m?mm??w????^? ???????^?? ? ??
lit fumtljcnt (intrrjirlse,
A UKKLEX OK I'Ol'ULAU EVENTS. |
4 "" '
wiw^'ia i?3 ipraiia&a,
? DITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
i
- ri"
"TH." 13L?2 mVL mn &bSrn
*A 50, pnvnhlc in advance ; $2 if ili'liiywL
(UiirftS of FIVE nii'l upwards ?l, the ntouoy
1b every'instance to aeomupnuy the order.
ADV'KKTI^KMENT.a inserted conspicuously nt
ttle rates of 75 cents per square of 3 lines, and
cents for cneh subsequent insertion. Contracts
yearly advertising mmlo reasonable.
[w. r. r.",c? * nuoniwu, imiixtku*.]
. fdcrteit ^uftri).
jVfpHj flop.
I will not woil the farmer's 6<>n
Said Mary Ann, the Merchant's (laughter,
'Till rivers to their sources run,
Aud flow with milk instead of water.
J cannot wed the farmer's son,
To milk his cows and churn his butter,
To mind his brats where'er tlicy run,
And be forever in a splutter.
I'll never wed the farmer's son,
'Till thorns bear grapes, ami figs the thistle,
I'll take the veil nml be. a nun.
First, that I will?so let him whistle!
Hut she has wed the farmer's son,
This Mary Ann, the Merchant's daughter,
"A'nr iln tlm VitfAfu l\>tiiL'trnPfl rim
Nor flow with milk instead of water.
Yes, she l?a* wed the farmer's son,
Nor have tliey changed?the thorn and thistle,
Across the flelds their urchins run.
And hy the plow she hears him whistle.
Slit Sutfrfsting ?tari|.
11) c &1 q c k s h) i t i),
OF THE MOUNTAIN PASS.
At the entrance to one of those gorges, or
gaps in the great Apalachian chain, of niountiaus,
in Hieir pitssage across the northern
portion of Georgia, a blacksmith had erected
his forge in the early settlement of that region
by the Anglo-American race, and drove;
a thrifty trade in the way of facing axes and j
'pointing plows for the settlers, and shoeing !
morses for wayfaring people in their transit;
'through tho country to examine gold mines
and land.
As lie was no ordinary personage in tho
affairs of his neighborhood, and will make j
a conspicious figure in this narrative, some
account of his peculiarities will not be uninteresting.
Having acted through life on a
Ihomely maxim of his own?"pay up as you |
go up''?ho had acquired sonje money and
avas out of debt, and consequently enjoyed
"dho glorious privilege of being independent"
tin a degree that is unknown to many who octcupy
a larger portion of tho world's attention
than himself, lie was a burly, well-looking
man of thirty-five, just young enough to feel
that all his faculties, mental and physical,
'had reached their greatest development, and
just old enough to have amassed sufficient
experience of men and things, to mako the
past serve as a linger-post to his future jour4toy.hrough
Ijfe. With a shrewd, but open.
Ixwr and honest look, there was a gleeful
expression in the comers of his eyes that
apokeoffun. The "Jaugliing devil in his
% -eye" was not a malicious spirit, however. Ilis
ntitretrfVil AniifArmnfi^n titlmf nrliiolt a/mm.
h'mjnivtti wiiivi uit(iiv/|i ? iimv "iiivii Will'
bined great *trcnglh with agility, and if he had
Ibcen a cotemporary of hid groat prototype,
Vulcan, there can ho no doubt but tho Lemviinn
blacksmith would have allotted to him
-a front forge in hid establish incut, to act as a
?ort of pattern-card, and to divert the public
gaxefrora hli own game leg to the fair proportions
of his foreman.
Now, although Ned Korgcron, for such was
iliS U&lftC ho had inherited from somo Gallio
ancestor, was a good nntured man, yet the
* possession of great muscular strength and
courage, and the admiration which a successful
exercise of these powers never fails to
command, had somewhat spoiled him. \\ itiiout
meaning to injure any mortal, he had
managed, nevertheless, to try his prowess on
sundry of his neigltbors, and from the success
which always crowned Ins honest ellbrt* in
that way, had unoonsciuusly nctptirod the
character of a ImUy.
With very few early advantages of elementary
education, he had, nevertheless at
different period* collected a massofhe'orngejieoua
Information, which ho was very fond
*4 displaying on ocoastont. lie was n sort
of political anti.pmry, and could toll the
opinion of Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Madison, on
#n/ subject, and was referred to on all disputed
points of tho theory and 4??tory of the
government that arose among tho candidates
for tho legislating and country politicians.
This ho studied on account of tho conso<0
?ptenoe it invested him with. Hut why he
hod treasured up an old and well thuminod
copy of PainyV. "/Vge of Reason," and aftvcod
scepticism as to the Votacity of the story
Jonah and the whale and HaUam and his
a&s would be bard accounted for unless it
proceed fioin the desiro of n cliaractcr for
|singularity and erudition. When vanity
once tho mastery of a man's reason,
there is no telling the absurdities it will lead
hitn into, lie was fond of speaking of Y'olney.nnd
l>omg found with a copy of Taylor's
"Diegesls'' in bis hand, although few of his
neighbors bad heard of the author of the
1' Itnins, " or knew what Diegeai* meant.
This peculiarity, together with tho per
uuaciiy oi mo missionaries Worcester and
Butler, which carried them to a penitentiary,
may account for tho great aversion of Mr.
Edward Forgeron. to all preachers of the
tiospel. JIUf dislike for them was so excessive,
that ho could scarcely speak of the
'hypocritical scoundrels," as lie called them,
with out flying into a passion aud using indecorous
language.
But a circumstance occurred which gave
hn ztjl a distinct and sectarian direction. A
Methodist preacher over in Tennessee, who
who was fond of spicing his discourses w it It
anecdote, once made the blacksmith the principal
character in along sermon. His peculiarities
were dilated on and his heresies
dealt with becoming severity, lie was
ridiculed, and his literary acquirements disparaged
by the preacher. All this came to
the cursor Forgeron, with such additions and
embellishments as stories usually receive in
passing to a third person. It would be as
useless to attempt to dcscribo a mountain
storm as to picture the wrath of this mountaineer.
But if we cannot portray the storm,
the consequence may bo easily told. The
blacksmith swore in bis word, hi* would. whip
every Methodist prcaclwr that jxtssed 'the
gap, in revenge of his insult.
Forgeron was a man of the word, as the
bruised feature* of many of John Wesley's
disciples would testify*. His character soon
went abroad, and the good old matrons of
the surrounding counties on each side of the
mountain, trembled at his name. In short
the mountain pass, which was really as romantic
a place as a landscape painter would
seek for a picture, and was just the spot to remind
a youth fresh from his classic studies,
of the place where Leonidas and his three
hundred Spartans fell, in attempting to defend
Grecco against tho army of Xerxes, hut
iu despite of the grandeur of its beetling
cliffs, and the beauty of its verdure, it was
associated in tho minds of many pious persons,
with tho broad gate that leads to do
struction. And Ned Forgeron, the handsome
blacksmith, was invested with the attributes
and hideous aspect of his Satanic
majesty, by many a ^mountain girl, who
would doubtless have fallen in "love at first
sight" with him, under any other name.
The preacher whose circuit lay on either
side of tho mountain, at the time Ned's direful
edict was promulgated to tho world, was
a meek and lowly man, who approached
nearly iu his natural disposition, to willing
obedience to tho mandate, relative to turning
the cheek to the smitor.
The poor soul passed many sleepless nights
iu view of the fate that awaited thini at the
mountain pass. In his dreams, he saw F??rgoron
with a huge sledgehammer in hand,
| ready to dash out his brains and would start
with such violence as to wake himself. lie
inquired if there was no other place at which
s the mountain could be passed, only to learn
I his doom more certainly. Being a timid
i man, but withal devoutly impressed with a
| sense of duty, ho resolved to discharge his
duties faithfully, bo the consequences what
they might. Like a lamb going to the
slaughter did he wendjhisway townrd the
fap; as he camo in front of the shop, the
lackamith was striking tho last blow on a
shovel, and singing away to the tunc ol
I "Clear tho kitchen'?
"Old Georgia in n nolile State,
Her laws are good, and her people great."
On catching a glimpse of the poor parson,
who had flattered himself that he was about
to pass with impunity, Ned sung out?"stop
there, j'ou eternal shad-belly, and pay the
penalty for my injured reputation."
The holy man protested innocence of having
ever intentionally injured him, by word
or deed.
The man's subdued looks and earnest
J voice, had half dissuaded Ned from his stern
, purpose, when the giggling of his striker and
1 the cheering of two or throe idlers, nerved
him to do what he felt was mean. Let any
one pause a moment, and reflect if ho h:u
; never heen urged on to acts his conseicnct
isroo'-c him for, by the opinion of others, l*y
; foro Mr. Forgeron is sentenced as a devil
The preacher received several boxes on lib
his ears, and heard many denunciation!
against his sect before he was admitted tc
j dospart; ami when that permission was re
: ceived, he was not slow in availing hiinsel
of the privilege.
At the next annual conference when clr
' cuits wero assigned to tho ditforont preachers
this one made his ap|>earance punctually bill
some nroccss of casuistry convinced bin
I that hi* duty did not cull for n revelation o
his offerings' It* lie was too KOiiaitive of tin
blacksmith'* character to expose it to rnd<
remark, or if ho had h preference that roiw
worthier brother should occupy that. hcnlthi
station among the mountains, is diilh-nlt t?
conjecture. Hut h'orgorHon'a reputation luu
extended beyond the circuit, and was d?n<
[ itmplo nnd severe justice to l?y others win
. had heard of his fame. It axm became the
ouljcct of animated conversation, and there
j was no Utttlc wincing, each ^(me fearing it
I would be his cruel fate to be sent a victim to
appease the wrath of this human minotaur
against the Methodist Church.
After a time it was decre hi that the Ileverend
Mr. Stubbleworth was the doomed
individual, and when tlw annunciation came,
i many an eye of mingled pity and curiosity
was turned on his ruddy, good-natured face,
to see how the dispensation was home, but
not n muscle moved. With a quiet smile
i no proiesseu a pcrtect willingness to go whore
, lie was sent. He was "clay in the hands of
tlia potter," ho said. If lie piqued himself
' on n stolid indifference to the blacksmith's
| punnnclings, or if lie relied on his ample dimensions
to protect himself, he never disclosed,
but .appeared as self satisfied and eontent
as ever. J lis predecessor looked for all
the world like a mouse just escaped from the
fangs of some terrible grimalkin.
| Mr. Stubhlcworth arranged his few sublunary
affairs, and bidding bis friends adieu,
mounted bis old roan and departed for his
. new home of trials, with a song of praise on
' his lips. Let ns hope the best for liiin.
cii.vptkii ii.
The Kcv. Mr. Stubbleworth was very
much pleased with his new situation. Having
been transfered from a level pine-woods
: country, near tho confines of Korida, the novs
! city of mountain scenery and a pare, bracing
atmosphere, seoined to inspire him with new
life. Complimenting all the mothers, on the
singular beauty and intelligence of their ehilI
dren, with a delicate allusion to their own
personal appearance, he soon became a general
favorite. Mi. atubbleworth "knew
which side of his bread the buffer was on."
The time arriving forjiis departure to visit
the t~nmon(nne portion of his pastoral earo,
he was warned of the dangers lie was about
to encounter, but they wore heard with the
same placid smile. The worthy ladies pictured
to Iiiin "I'liiliiorns iliri> " siilfii>ii>iit In Imvn
abated tho zeal of any other individual. Hut
that gentleman quieted their fears, by appealing
to the power that "tempers the wind to the
shorn lamb," with a eontenanee as lamb like
as could bo imagined. And he departed,
singing?
"At home or abroad, on the land, on the sen.
; As thy wants may demand shall thy strength
ever he."
i
I They watched him until his portly person
and horse grew dim in the distance, and
I turned away, sighing that such a good man
should fall into the hands of that monster, the
blacksmith.
, Forgeron had heard of his new victim, and
rejoiced that his size and appearance furnished
a better subject for his vengeance than
the attenuated frame of the late parson. Oh,
what nice beating he would have ! lie had
heard, too, that souio Methodist preachers
were rather spirited, and'hoped this one might
prove so, that lie might provoke him to light.
Knowing the clergyman must pass on Saturday
in the afternoon, lie gave his striker holiday,
and reclining on a bench regaled liiinI
self with the beauties of Tom I'uitic, await
ing the arrival of the preacher.
| It was not over an hour beforo lie heard
: the word?
' Ib?\i happy are they who their Savior
ohev.
And have laid up their treasures above."?
sung in n fill, clear voice, and soon the vo'
enlist, turning the angle of a rock, rode leisurely
up, with contented smile on his lips.
"1 low are von, old slab sides! (.Jet oft
. your horse and join my devotions," said the
j blacksmith.
"1 have many miles to ride." answered the
preach* r, "and liavn't time, my friend. I'll
call as 1 return."
, "Your name is Stubblcworth, and you are
. the hypocrite the Methodists have sent here,
> J eh ?
', "My nanio is Stubblcworth," he replied
meekly.
"Hid'nt you know my name was Nod
I Forgorou, the blacksmith, what whips every
Method!*: preacher that goes through this
: gup J" was asked with an audacious look,
i' "And how dare you come here I"
I The preacher replied that he had heard
I Mr. Forgoron's name, but presumed that lie
. ! a: i .... .,?n k?i 1
i "You presumed so ! Ye*, you nro (lie
> most presumptions people, yon Methodist,
\ that ever (rod shoe-leather, any how. NY ell
.' whnt'l you do if I don't whip you this time
> you beef-headed disciple, you ?"
(I Mr. Stuhhleworth professed his willingness
> to do nnv tiling reasonable to avoid such
penance.
f "Well, there's three things you have to do,
or I'll maul you into a jellv. The first is,
- you are to quit preaching: tficsecond is. yon
. must wear this last will and testamentol
t Thomas Paine, next to your heart, rend il
i j every day, and bclievo every word you read
f and the third is you, are to curse the Methi,
odists in every crowd you get into."
'! The preacher looked on during these nov
* el prop.<*itions, without a line of his being
i* mover!, and at tho end replied, that tin
> terms were unreasonable, and lie would no
I; submit to them.
t "NV all, you have got a aha liny to s*b
>; tuit to then. I'lllairup you like bla/f.>! I'l
% '
tear you into doll-rag*, corner ways! Get
' down, you buggar."
The preacher remonstrated, and Forgeron 1
walked up to the horse and threatened to
tear him oft", if lie did not dismount, where- j
upon the worthy man made u virtue of necessity,
and alighted. I
I 4,1 have hut one request to m ike, my
i friend, that is that you wont l?cat me with
this overcoat on. It. was a present from the
ladies of my la?t circuit, and I do not wish ,
to liavo it torn."
| "< )tF with it, and that suddenly, you basin
faced imp, you."
.The Methodist preacher slowly drew off'
his surcoat, as the blHck'.inith continued his.
, tirade of abuse on him self and his sect, and
I as he drew his right hand from tho sleeve,
and threw the garment behind him, ho dealt [
Mr. Forgeron a tremendous blow between
his eyes, which laid that person at full length
on the ground, with the tvnUtm '/if of Tlioiuos
l\iino beside biin. The ltev. Mr. Stubbleworth,
with the tact of a eonnosseur in such
matters, did not wait for his a Iversary to
rise, but mounted him with the quickn >ss ofa
cat, and as ho bestowed his blows, with a
bounteous hand, on the stomach and f iee of
the blacksmith, continued his song where "lie
had left off, on his arrival at the smithy ?
I 'Tongue cannot express the sweet comfort nnd
peace.
Of a soul in its earliest love."
I'ntil Mr. Forgeron, from having expcii1
enccd "first love," or some other sensation
equally new to him, responded lustily,
" Nongh '. "Nough !?Take him off!" Hut
unfortunately there was no one l > perform
I that office, exc?q>t the old roan, and he
munched a bunch of grass and looked on as'
quietly as if his master was ;,t a
camp-tnecting,
j "Now," said Mr. Stubleworth, "there arc
; "three things yon must promise m*, before
1 I let you up."
"What are they I" asked Forgeron, eu-i
I ?ol ,r . . I
I "The first, is, that you will never molest a
, Methodist preacher again."
Here Ne<J'a pride rose, and he hesitated, i
ami the reverend gentleman, with his usual
j benign smile on his face, renewed his blows '
and sang?
?
"1 role on the sky, freely justified I,
Ami the Moon it was under my feet."
I This oriental language overcame the black -1
' smith Such bold figures, or something else,
caused hiln to sing out, "Well, I'll do it?
I'll do it."
"You are getting on very well," said Mr.
Stubhleworth. "1 think I can make a decent
man of you yet, and perhaps a christian."
Ned groaned.
"The second thing I require of you is, to
j go to Puinpkinvino Creek meeting house,
' and hear me preach to-morrow."
Ned attempted to stammer out some ex-'
cusc. "I?1?that is?"
When thedivine resumed his devotional
liyniu, and kept time with the music l>v
striking him over the face with the fleshy part i
of the hand?
"Mv soul iik>tint<-<1 hiirhcr, on n chariot of
lia-,
Nor did envy Klijuh his seat."
Ned's promise of punctuality*caused the parson's
exercise to cea>e, and the words, redo'
lent of gorgeous imagery, died away echoes
from the adjacent crags.
"Now, the third ami Inst demand I make
of you is peremptory,"
Ned was all attention to know what was
to conic next.
"Von are to promise to seek religion, day
' and night, and never rest till you obtain it at
the hands of a merciful Redeemer."
The fallen man looked at thedecliuing sun,
and then at the parson, and knew not what
to say, w hen the latter individual began to
raise bis voice in song once more, and Ned
ii knew what would come next.
"I'll do my best," lie said, in an bumbled
t \*oiec.
"Well, that's a man," Mr. Stubblewortli
1 said. "Now get up and go down to the
branch and wash your face, and dust
you clothes, and tear up Mr. Panic's testni
j mcnt, and turn your thoughts on high."
Ned arose with feelings, he had never experienced
before, and went to obey the lavatory
injunction of the preacher, when that
i) gentleman mounted his horse, took Ned by
! i lie hand and said, "Keep your promise and
: I'll keep your counsel. Liood evening, Mr.
rorgcron; i ll look fur you to-morrow, ami
1 off ho rodo with tho samo imperturbable
countenance, singing so loml as to scare the
eaglets from from their reverie in tho overhanging
rocks.
"NV.cll," thought No.!, "this is a nice busj
incss ! What would the people say if they
knew Kdwurd Forgeron was wliipt before his
1 own door in the gap, and by a Afrthwlint
i preacher, too? But his inudngs "more in
f sorrow than in anger."
, fit AI'TKIl 111.
The disfiguted countenance of I*01 gersou
was ofcourse, tho subject of numerous rjues
r tions that night among his friends, to which
? ho replied, with astern look they well uni
derstood, and the vaguo remark that ho had
m-t with fin nrxidenh Of com ae they never
. dreamed of the true eadse. Forg?ron look|tol
ill tht jlik!), ittt'l perhaps compared the
changing hues of hi* "black eye from .a re- {'
cent sen file," to llic rainbow in ilio ship- i
wreck scene, blending every color into one." '
Or perhaps he had never read that story, and i
only inbttercd to himself, "Ned Korgcron
whipped by a Methodist preacher."
llis dreams that night were of a confused j
a d iiia green bio nature, and waking in tlie j
morning bo bad nn in distinct memory of j
something unpleasant having occurred. At j
first, he could not recollect the cause of his <
feelings; hut the bruises on his fico and i
body, noon called them to miiul, as well as
tlie promise. lie mounted his hor.e in si- j'
Icnco, mill went to redeem it.
From that time, his whole conduct niani- j1
fested a change of feeling. The gossips of i
the neighborhood observed it, and whispered ;1
that Ned was silent and serious, an I had g no ;?
to meeting every Sunday since the accident. . j
They wondered at his burning the books lie j<
used to read so much. Strange stories were j1
circulated as to this metainorphos of the jov- i <
ial, dare-devil blacksmith, into a gloomy and l<
taciturn man. Some supposed, very sagely,
that a spirit *' had enticed him into the ;'
mountains, and after giving hint a glimpse '
into the future, had misled him to a crag. :
where he had fallen and bruised bis face. j
< >;hers gave the prince of darkness the credit
of the change: but none suspected the Mcth- e
dist preacher, and as tlic latter gentleman ;
had no vanity to gratify, the secret remained !
with Ned.
This gloomy state of mind continued until
Korgeron visited a camp-meeting. The
Ucv. Mr. Stuhhleworth preached a sermon
that seemed to enter his soul, and uTuvc it
of a harden, and the song of,
"ihr.v bappv arc tliev, who their Savior obey." J
was only half through when he felt like a '
new man. Forgcron was from that time a
shouting Methodist. At a love-feast a short
time subsequent, he gave in his experience,
and revealed the )>i;/!ttcr>j of his conviction
and conversion to his astonished neighbors.
The Kev. Simon Stubl>!"wnrt-h, who had
i j .1 * .! .
11iiiii1k?']ii mo secret mini nun. iiiik* '
I'oiiM contain himself no longer, but gave
vent to his feelings in convulsive peals of
laughter, as the burning tears of heartfelt
joy coursed their way down his cheeks.?
" my brethren," he said, "it's all a fact.
1 diil maul the i/race into his unbelieving
soul, there's no doubt"
The blacksmith of the mountain pass became
a happy man, and a Methodist preach- '
er. M aeon Ma. J
3ntcrating lUisrrllniuj.
I) i) if out- to) o Skscciiocj if oo in.
Tiiu college is a large building fronting i
on one of the streets running parallel with '
Broadway. Mounting several flights of'
stairs, and going through two long and nar- !'
row passages, we came to an ante-room, in !
which my friends hung up their overcoats,
deposited their umbrellas, nnd rcleivcd tin m,
selves of outside encumbrances generally.?
i Opening a drawer located with several oth-!
ers at the right of the room, one./ the young !
gentlemen drew forth a sort of wrapper or
domino, made of black glazed muslin?with j
the glazing nearly worn oil". 1 tunning this '
garment, he walked up mother flight of,
stairs, followed bv his chum?who. disdaining
a wrapper, had merely rolled up his
sleeves?ami myself.
While wailing in the room below 1 had
noticed a disagreeable odor which saluted
my nostrils and reminded ine of the perfume ,
of decayed cabbages. I knew, of course, i
that this stench proceeded from the human I
remains on the floor above, and made up my
mind to endure it as best I might. I did l
| not dream, though, that it would be very
. ...Anlll* ItlAOAtlAAil Ittk.kll .AArtllllir. fti.k li.l, i.l '
the last flight of stairs?hut it wax. How 1
mortal man could inlialc such an intol- |
' erable atmosphere for nay protracted length 1
of time, I confess beyond my ken. I can I
not account for the indifference of the stu- i
dents, who pass several hours daily in the I
i society of the defunct, except upon the liv-j
. pothesis that they have sheet-iron lungs or
cauterized noses.
This "theatre of anatomy'' was a spacious i
apartment, well lighted by an abundance of j
side windows and skylight overhead. St Hiding
about the room in convenient positions,
were, perhaps twenty high and narrow tables
or forms, upon each of which was
stretched all that remained of a frame once
endowed w ith life, health, thought, and feelJ
ing. Around each of the tables stood several
stools for the accommodation of dissectors,
ami suspended about the walls were a
number of large anatomical drawings. < hi
one side of the apartment was a washing-!
trough, plentifully supplied with basins, :
soap, etc., and nearby were hung thenceom j
pauying towels?which, by the way, I should
have I icon sorry to use. I
lust witliin the railing at the top of the
stairs stood olio of the tallies I have attempt
ed to desciiho, and stretched out upon it was
the body of an old man. The free was covered
with n grizzly heart I, and here and there
upon the skull might be seen patches of thin
gray hair The head war th owi; back run!
I the lovi er jaw had I'tllen, presenting
; a !!? > t lioni'ole >p"i ta<;h>. I'lie entire bi>d\
was hi uck from mortification; and fr'bih 1*^
neath the skin of the log, which ft student
was cutting upon, oozed forth a thin, clam*
my moisture.
My friend with the roiled up sleeves took
liis place nt the head of another table, bearing
the form of an apparently young female,
who had evidently died of a long and wasting
disease?most probably Consumption.
There were the attenuated limbs, which .
once, peihaps, bore their owner through the
mazes of the dance; there the bony fingers
which iu life may have glistened with gems
" of purest i ay serene ; " there the sunken,
pallid cheek, once rosy with maiden blushes ;
there the cold, impassive
lips, once wreathed
in smiles or pouting in vexation. And tvl?eu
that young creature became a victim to the
jrenu uesi rover, who, ot her weeping Irienrl-o
us tliev consign oil lior body to its parent
?arth, dreamed that in another day the form
they had loved would lie exposed to the inlillerent
gaze of college professors, students,
nod strangers ?
"1 say," said my friend of the rollej-tip
decves, calling my attention to his operations;
1 if you'd come here I'll show the lady's
bruins."
The skull had been removed, exposing the
interior of the head. I looked on with the
determination, now that I was "in for it," to ,
see all I could, and take particular care not
to ho caught on these premises again.
"Here's the jugular vein," said Saw-tones,
at the same time raising with the forceps the
part indicated. "Stop a mi nil to. nud I'M
blow it up." Taking from the case of instruments
beside him a small silver tube, he proceeded
to do so. Then with a small, shrap
knife, called a "scalpel," he cut away the
Mesh from a number of other veins, nerves,
and arteries, exhibiting them to mn. in a
manner that would have been edifying perhaps,
bad I been able to understand a word
of it.
After this diverting bit of work, together
with some pleasant remarks scarcely adapted
to after breakfast repetition, Sawbones scrap*
cd his lingers, on the edge of the table, and
taking from his pocket a short pipe and plug
of cavendish tobacco, clipped the latter with
his pen-knife, filled his pipe, and smoked with
delectable gusto.
Meanwhile I turned to another student
who was engaged, as he informed me, in ascertaining
"what a woman's back was made
of;" in other words, he was dissecting the
parts adjoining the spine. The body had
evidently been divided among a number of
stuoenis. ai :tn events, me morsel my new
friend was anatomizing was destitute of head
or legs. The student seemed to have made
considerable progress in his labors, havind?"
carefully looscnod a large portion.of the outer
cuticle, the folds of which were hold up from
the flesh beneath bv means of a small chain
furnished with hooks at both end*, one of
which was fastened in the shin of the "subject"
and the other to the edge of the table
beneath. The callous young Ilypoerates
smiled compassionately at the look of horror
which I could not help bestowing upon him,
and slashed away with professional stoicism.
Unnblc longer to gaze with indifference'
upon the sickening spectacle, and growing
nervous at the thought that 1 might be inhaling
the germ of some dread disease, I began
now to think of beating a retreat. A large
stove in tlio middle of the apartment grew
red with heat, the windows were all close*!',
and the odor of the dissecting room became
more unbearable every instant, booking
around me. I saw all the, students still hnsrfv
engaged at their teniblc avocation, all unmindful
of the stench, which was to nic so
insufferably offensive. Most of the bodies
had been under "treatment" for several days
?some of them I was told had been theie a
month. They were in every stage of decomposition,
and the poison which is nlwnvs
injected as soon as they arc brought to til*
college by the re ttrreetioni ts. was insufficient
to retard their decay. In addition t<-?
the d read fit I odor, my sense of sight was alsooutraged
by the terrible spectacle everywhere
presented. IleadJess truuks ; here aiv
arm, there a log ; ghastly countenances and
giinning corpses, all telling, mutely hut eloquently,
of what foul been ami was uo1 wvore
?these were not objects calculated to charm
the unaoeastomcd beholder.
I could stand it fro longer. Hushing down
| the stairs, and threading my way quickly
i through iii< narrow hall, I paused not until
I had passed the college doors ami stood
1 once more in the open street?the blue
heavens nliovc me, themuddy street wneatb,
and the fresh air of the sea-bound >*lntul
rushing into my longing lungs.
I>o.?j?ito the horrors 1 have witnessed, T
can not conscientiously iegret tny visit of an
, hour to a dissecting room. As a jwcHliarly
I eccentric friend of mine would say, "It was
edification.**
I tw* I
Goon Louie.'?"Itrudder Jones, can you
tell tno the ditl'eronco 'tween dying and db
1 oting r
"Whv ob course T can, Saimfcl. When
you diet you lib on nnfihi, and when yai
die you hub noflin to lib on.*'
"Well dill's different from wfint I lorrt it
was, T tort it was a taec ntwa en de do- tori .'
'-tuff nrv'l rtrirw.ition, to see which 'vi l l-i
!tVt."