A HORSE-ADVENTURE.

49

affectingly, that his old owner almost relented, and but for seeming childish, he would have followed and revoked the bargain, a course which his children, who were watching the old horse depart, strenuously urged him to adopt. He disappeared, however, with his new master, and soon after, in company with a large drove of other horses, he was placed on board a vessel, which, one afternoon in March, set sail from New-Haven for the West Indies. The vessel had hardly reached the open Sound, at night-fall, before a storm began to 'brew,' which by nine o'clock became so violent that the safety of the ship, captain and crew, was placed in imminent jeopardy. The craft labored so heavily that it was found necesary to throw over much of the live freight, which greatly encumbered the deck. The oldest and least valuable horses were selected, and among them was our four-legged 'hero.' The stormy waters of the *Sound received the poor old fellow; but his 'destiny' was not yet to be fulfilled. The shore, which the vessel had 'hugged' in the tempest, was only three miles distant, and this, with more than 'superhuman effort,' he was enabled to reach. That very night his old master was awakened by the familiar whinnying' of his faithful beast, over the long-accustomed door-yard gate; saying, like the old 'gaberlunzie-man' in the Scottish song,

6

'Get up, good man, and let me in!'

50

A COMMERCIAL TRANSACTION.

The familiar sound came like the voice of NAT. LEE'S

เ

'spirit-horse,' as described by DANA in The Buccaniers,' to that remorseful master. He did get up,' and led the old steed into his wonted stall, which he thereafter occupied undisturbed until his death. With an unerring instinct, that animal had travelled twenty-two miles, after reaching the shore, before he arrived at the door of his old master. 'I shall never sell another old horse,' said the original narrator of this story to our friend, the longest day I live!'

Ir will be some time, if not longer, before we shall awaken the echoes of our quiet sanctum with a laugh so irrepressible as a guffaw which has just escaped us, at a mercantile anecdote inimitably related by a German friend. An old fellow living at Frankfort-on-the-Main, sent to a business-correspondent at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, a large consignment of cotton stockings, and at the same time, to another correspondent in the same place, an equally large consignment of cotton night-caps, the product of his own. manufactory. He wrote to each the price at which they were to sell, but the sum designated was found to be too large, of which fact they took occasion to inform him. He yielded a little in his demand, but still there were no offers for his fabrics. Again he writes, in reply to other letters of his correspondents, naming a yet smaller amount; but

A COMMERCIAL TRANSACTION.

51

weeks elapse, and still no sale. At length he writes to each correspondent to make some disposition of his manufactures; if they can't get money for them, at least to exchange them, no matter at what reasonable sacrifice, for any other goods. Under these instructions, the stockingfactor calls upon the night-cap agent, both unknown to each other in connection with their principal, and ' names his views; he wishes to exchange a lot of superior cotton stockings for some other goods; he is not particular what kind, as the transaction is for a friend, who is desirous of 'closing his stock.' The man at first can think of nothing which he would like to exchange for so large a supply of stockings; but at length a bright thought strikes him. I have,' said he, a consignment of cotton night-caps from an old correspondent, which I shall not object to exchange for your stockings.' The bargain was soon closed. The stocking-factor wrote back at once that he had at length been enabled to comply with the instructions of his principal. He had exchanged his stockings for 'a superior article of night-cap,' in an equal quantity, which he was assured were likely to be much in demand before a great while!

The next day came a letter from the night-cap agent, announcing his success, and appended to the letter was a big bill for commissions! As YELLOWPLUSH would say, 'Fanzy that gent's feelinks!'

WE suggested, not long since, that a simplification of the nomenclature of the law would not be amiss; and we ventured to offer a few arguments in support of that position. We are quite of the opinion that a similar simplification of Medical Nomenclature would prove of service to the masses. We have sometimes seen the necessity of this very ludicrously illustrated. Very much confounded was our friend Doctor DOANE, a few years since, by a remark of one of his patients. The day previous, the Doctor had prescribed that safe and palatable remedy, the 'syrup of birch-thorn,' and had left his prescription duly written. in the usual cabalistic characters: Syr. Rham. Cath!' On enquiring if the patient had taken the medicine, a thunder-cloud darkened her face; lightning flashed from her eyes; and she roared out: 'No! I can read your doctor-writing-and I aint a-goin to take the Syrup of Ram-Cats for any body under God's heaven!' 'Hence we view the great necessity there is' of a material change in our medical nomenclature.

NUMBER TWO.

AN INDEPENDENT STAGE-COACH DRIVER: THE RETORT CONCLUSIVE: THE SEA AND ITS INFLUENCES: THE DELUDED DOG AND REFRACTORY LOBSTER : DEATH OF THE FIRST-BORN AN AFFECTING INCIDENT: A DRY PUMP: EXPERIMENT UPON THE MUSICAL ORGANS OF A JACK-ASS THE CLOUDLESS SKIES' OF PARADISE: A RAIL-ROAD RECUSSANT: A LITTLE EVENING-SCENE IN THE SANCTUM: HUMORS OF AN ELECTION- THE CHALLENGED FRIEND:' THE TRUE HERO-AN AUTHENTIC ANECDOTE: NATURAL HISTORY-THE FLAMINGO: PUZZLING QUESTIONS IN 'LOGIC: REMINISCENCES IN THE LITTLE CHURCH AT LAKE-GEORGE.

ANY readers will remember Mrs. KIRKLAND's story

MANY

in her New Home,' of the Michigan stage-driver, whodrew rein' in a violent autumn-storm at the gate of one of the far-scattered cabins of a western forest, into which he ran, leaving his passengers, a burly Englishman and two querulous,' stuck-up' daughters, to follow him, as best they might. The doughty JOHN BULL came in after him, leading his daughters, with rueful faces and sadly bedraggled skirts, all three looking grouty and glum enough.

I say,' said the Englishman to the driver, who had ensconced himself in a warm and cozy seat by the fire, 'I say, that luggage ought to be brought in, ye kno'. 'Wal, I should think so, tew. If 't was mine, I should bring it in, any how. "T may get sp'ilet.' 'Well, fellow, why