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Let butter drench them in its yellow tide,
And a long slice of bacon grace their side;
Not all the plate, how famed soe'er it be,
Can please my palate like a bowl of thee.
Some talk of Hoe-Cake, fair Virginia's pride!
Rich Johnny-Cake this mouth hath often tried;
Both please me well, their virtues much the same,
Alike their fabric, as allied their fame,
Except in dear New England, where the last
Receives a dish of pumpkin in the paste,
To give it sweetness and improve the taste.
But place them all before me, smoking hot,
The big, round dumpling, rolling from the pot;
The pudding of the bag, whose quivering breast,
With suet lined, leads on the Yankee feast;
The Charlotte brown, within whose crusty sides
A belly soft the pulpy apple hides;
The yellow bread, whose face like amber glows,
And all of Indian that the bakepan knows-
You tempt me not; my favorite greets my eyes,
To that loved bowl my spoon by instinct flies.

CANTO II.

To mix the food by vicious rules of art,
To kill the stomach and to sink the heart,
To make mankind to social virtue sour,
Cram o'er each dish, and be what they devour;
For this the kitchen muse first framed her book,
Commanding sweat to steam from every cook ;
Children no more their antic gambols tried,
And friends of physic wonder'd why they died.
Not so the Yankee: his abundant feast,
With simples furnish'd and with plainness dress'd,
A numerous offspring gathers round the board,
And cheers alike the servant and the lord;
Whose well-bought hunger prompts the joyous taste,
And health attends them from the short repast.
While the full pail rewards the milk-maid's toil,
The mother sees the morning caldron boil;
To stir the pudding next demands their care;
To spread the table and the bowls prepare:
To feed the children as their portions cool,
And comb their heads, and send them off to school.
Yet may the simplest dish some rules impart,
For Nature scorns not all the aids of art.
E'en Hasty Pudding, purest of all food,
May still be bad, indifferent, or good,
As sage experience the short process guides,
Or want of skill, or want of care presides.
Whoe'er would form it on the surest plan,
To rear the child and long sustain the man;
To shield the morals while it mends the size,
And all the powers of every food supplies-
Attend the lesson that the muse shall bring;
Suspend your spoons, and listen while I sing.
But since, O man! thy life and health demand
Not food alone, but labor from thy hand,
First, in the field, beneath the sun's strong rays,
Ask of thy mother earth the needful maize;
She loves the race that courts her yielding soil,
And gives her bounties to the sons of toil.
When now the ox, obedient to thy call,
Repays the loan that fill'd the winter stall,
Pursue his traces o'er the furrow'd plain,
And plant in measured hills the golden grain.
But when the tender germ begins to shoot,
And the green spire declares the sprouting root,
Then guard your nursling from each greedy foe,
The insidious worm, the all-devouring crow.
A little ashes sprinkled round the spire,
Soon steep'd in rain, will bid the worm retire;

The feather'd robber, with his hungry maw, Swift flies the field before your man of straw; A frightful image, such as schoolboys bring, When met to burn the pope or hang the king.

Thrice in the season, through each verdant row, Wield the strong ploughshare and the faithful hoe; The faithful hoe, a double task that takes,

To till the summer corn and roast the winter cakes.
Slow springs the blade, while check'd by chilling rains,
Ere yet the sun the seat of Cancer gains;
But when his fiercest fires emblaze the land,
Then start the juices, then the roots expand;
Then, like a column of Corinthian mould,
The stalk struts upward and the leaves unfold;
The bushy branches all the ridges fill,
Entwine their arms; and kiss from hill to hill.
Here cease to vex them; all your cares are done;
Leave the last labors to the parent sun;
Beneath his genial smiles, the well-dress'd field,
When autumn calls, a plenteous crop shall yield.
Now the strong foliage bears the standards high,
And shoots the tall top-gallants to the sky;
The suckling ears the silken fringes bend,
And, pregnant grown, their swelling coats distend;
The loaded stalk, while still the burden grows,
O'erhangs the space that runs between the rows;
High as a hop-field waves the silent grove.
A safe retreat for little thefts of love,
When the pledged roasting-ears invite the maid,
To meet her swain beneath the new-form'd shade
His generous hand unloads the cumbrous hill,
And the green spoils her ready basket fill;
Small compensation for the twofold bliss,
The promised wedding, and the present kiss.
Slight depredations these; but now the moon
Calls from his hollow tree the sly raccoon;
And while by night he bears his prize away,
The bolder squirrel labors through the day.
Both thieves alike, but provident of time,
A virtue rare, that almost hides their crime.
Then let them steal the little stores they can,
And fill their granaries from the toils of man;
We've one advantage where they take no part-
With all their wiles, they ne'er have found the art
To boil the Hasty Pudding; here we shine
Superior far to tenants of the pine;
This envied boon to man shall still belong,
Unshared by them in substance or in song.
At last the closing season browns the plain,
And ripe October gathers in the grain;
Deep-loaded carts the spacious corn-house fill;
The sack distended marches to the mill;
The laboring mill beneath the burden groans,
And showers the future pudding from the stones;
Till the glad housewife greets the powder'd gold,
And the new crop exterminates the old.

CANTO III.

The days grow short; but though the fallen sun
To the glad swain proclaims his day's work done;
Night's pleasant shades his various tasks prolong,
And yield new subjects to my various song.
For now, the corn-house fill'd, the harvest home,
The invited neighbors to the husking come;
A frolic scene, where work, and mirth, and play,
Unite their charms to chase the hours away.
Where the huge heap lies centred in the hall,
The lamp suspended from the cheerful wall,
Brown, corn-fed nymphs, and strong, hard-handed

beaux,

Alternate ranged, extend in circling rows,

Assume their seats, the solid mass attack;
The dry husks rustle, and the corn-cobs crack;
The song, the laugh, alternate notes resound,
And the sweet cider trips in silence round.
The laws of husking every wight can tell,
And sure no laws he ever keeps so well:
For each red ear a general kiss he gains,

With each smut ear he smuts the luckless swains;
But when to some sweet maid a prize is cast,
Red as her lips and taper as her waist,
She walks the round and culls one favor'd beau,
Who leaps the luscious tribute to bestow.
Various the sports, as are the wits and brains
Of well-pleased lasses and contending swains;
Till the vast mound of corn is swept away,
And he that gets the last ear wins the day.
Meanwhile, the housewife urges all her care,
The well-earn'd feast to hasten and prepare.
The sifted meal already waits her hand,

The milk is strain'd, the bowls in order stand,
The fire flames high; and as a pool (that takes
The headlong stream that o'er the milldam breaks)
Foams, roars, and rages with incessant toils,
So the vex'd caldron rages, roars, and boils.
First with clean salt she seasons well the food,
Then strews the flour, and thickens all the flood.
Long o'er the simmering fire she lets it stand;
To stir it well demands a stronger hand;

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For rules there are, though ne'er unfolded yet,
Nice rules and wise, how pudding should be ate
Some with molasses line the luscious treat,
And mix, like bards, the useful with the sweet.
A wholesome dish, and well deserving praise;
A great resource in those bleak wintry days,
When the chill'd earth lies buried deep in snow,
And raging Boreas dries the shivering cow.
Bless'd cow! thy praise shall still my notes employ,
Great source of health, the only source of joy;
Mother of Egypt's god-but sure, for me,
Were I to leave my God, I'd worship thee.
How oft thy teats these pious hands have press'd!
How oft thy bounties proved my only feast!
How oft I've fed thee with my favorite grain!
And roar'd, like thee, to find thy children slain !
Ye, swains who know her various worth to prize,
Ah! house her well from winter's angry skies!
Potatoes, pumpkins should her sadness cheer,
Corn from your crib, and mashes from your beef;
When spring returns, she'll well acquit the loan,
And nurse at once your infants and her own.
Milk, then, with pudding I would always choose;
To this in future I confine my muse,
Till she in haste some further hints unfold,
Well for the young, nor useless to the old.
First in your bowl the milk abundant take,
Then drop with care along the silver lake
Your flakes of pudding; these at first will hide
Their little bulk beneath the swelling tide;
But when their growing mass no more can sink,
When the soft island looms above the brink,
Then check your hand; you've got the portion due:
So taught our sires, and what they taught is true.
There is a choice in spoons. Though small appear
The nice distinction, yet to me 'tis clear.
The deep-bowl'd Gallic spoon, contrived to scoop
In ample draughts the thin, diluted soup,
Performs not well in those substantial things,
Whose mass adhesive to the metal clings;
Where the strong labial muscles must embrace
The gentle curve, and sweep the hollow space.
With ease to enter and discharge the freight,
A bowl less concave, but still more dilate,
Becomes the pudding best. The shape, the size,
A secret rests, unknown to vulgar eyes.
Experienced feeders can alone impart

A rule so much above the lore of art.

These tuneful lips, that thousand spoons have tried,
With just precision could the point decide,
Though not in song; the muse but poorly shines
In cones, and cubes, and geometric lines;
Yet the true form, as near as she can tell,
Is that small section of a goose-egg shell,
Which in two equal portions shall divide
The distance from the centre to the side.
Fear not to slaver; 'tis no deadly sin :
Like the free Frenchman, from your joyous chin

The husband takes his turn: and round and round Suspend your ready napkin; or like me,

The ladle flies; at last the toil is crown'd;
When to the board the thronging huskers pour,
And take their seats as at the corn before.
I leave them to their feast. There still belong
More copious matters to my faithful song.

AN ATTEMPT AT LARCENY.-When the late Judge Howell, of Rhode Island, was at the bar, Mr. Burgess, to play a joke, wrote on the lining of his hat, vacuum caput (empty-head). The hat circulated about, exciting a smile on every countenance except that of the owner, who deliberately took it up,

Poise with one hand your bowl upon your knee;
Just in the zenith your wise head project;
Your full spoon, rising in a line direct,
Bold as a bucket, heed no drops that fall-
The wide-mouth'd bowl will surely catch them all!

and repeated the words, and, well knowing the au-
thor, addressed the court as follows: "May it please
the court, I ask your honor's protection, (holding up
his hat,) for," said he, "I find that brother Bur-
gess has written his name in my hat, and I have
reason to believe he intends to make off with it."

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HOW TO RECEIVE A CHALLENGE.

66 FROM MODERN CHIVALRY." BY H. H. BRACKENRIDGE.

OUR worthy knight, and his aspiring bog-trotter, had now been some days, perhaps weeks, in a large village, not necessary to be named; but which, not more than a score of years ago, had been on the frontier. It is not necessary to speak of the reason for this delay; perhaps it was a part of the plan of observation adopted; perhaps something of a personal nature was the cause. Certain it is, that while here, the captain heard a good deal said about a certain Miss Vapor, who was the belle of the place. Her father had made a fortune by the purchase of public securities. A garrison having been at this place, and troops quartered here, he had been employed as an issuing commissary. When the commissioners sat to adjust unliquidated claims, he had a good deal in his power, by vouching for the accounts of the butcher and baker, and woodcutter and water-drawer, and wagoner, and others of all occupations whatsoever, whose claims were purchased by himself in the mean time; and when the certificates issued in their names, they were to his use. The butcher and baker, no doubt, long before, had been paid out of the flesh killed, or bread baked; because it is a good maxim, and a scriptural expression, "Muzzle not the ox that treadeth out the corn." But the public has a broad back, and a little vouching, by a person interested, is not greatly felt. These certificates, though at first of little value, and issued by the commissioners with the liberality of those who give what is of little worth, yet, by the funding acts of the government having become in value equal to gold and silver, the commissary had a great estate thrown upon him; so that, from low beginnings, he had become a man of fortune and consequence. His family, and especially the eldest daughter, shared the advantage; for she had become the object of almost all wooers. The captain, though an old bachelor, as we have said, had not wholly lost the idea of matrimony. Happening to be in a circle, one evening, where Miss Vapor was, he took a liking to her in all respects save one, which was, that she seemed, on her part, to have taken a liking to a certain Mr. Jacko, who was there present. The captain behaved as if he did not observe the preference; but the following day, waiting on the young lady at her father's house, he drew her into conversation, and began to reason with her in the following manner: "Miss Vapor," said he, "you are a young lady of great beauty, great sense, and fortune still greater than either."

This was a sad blunder in a man of gallantry, but the lady not being of the greatest sensibility of nerve, did not perceive it.

"On my part," said he, "I am a man of years, but a man of some reflection; and it would be much more advisable in you to trust my experience, and the mellowness of my disposition in a state of matrimony, than the vanity and petulance of this young fop Jacko, for whom you show a partiality."

The color coming into the young lady's face at this expression, she withdrew and left him by himself. The captain, struck with the rudeness, withdrew also; and after a few, but very long strides, found himself seated in his lodgings.

The next morning, shortly after he had got out of

1796.

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bed, and had just come down stairs, and was buttoning the knees of his breeches, a light airy-looking young man, with much bowing and civility, entered the hall of the public-house, inquiring "if this was not Captain Farrago, to whom he had the honor to address himself," delivered him a paper. On the perusal, it was found to be a challenge from Major Jacko.

The fact was, that Miss Vapor, in order the more to recommend herself to her suitor, had informed him of the language of the captain. The young man, though he had no great stomach for the matter, yet, according to the custom of these times, could do no less than challenge. The bearer was what is called his second.

The captain, having read the paper, and pausing a while, said, "Mr. Second, for that I take to be your style and character, is it consistent with reason or common sense, to be the aider or abettor of another man's folly; perhaps the prompter? For it is no uncommon thing with persons to inflame the passions of their friends, rather than allay them. This young woman, for I shall not call her lady, from vanity, or ill nature, or both, has become a tale-bearer to her lover, who, I will venture to say, thanks her but little for it; as she has thereby rendered it necessary for him to take this step. You, in the mean time, are not blameless, as it became you to have declined the office, and thereby furnished an excuse to your friend for not complying with the custom. For it would have been a sufficient apology with the lady to have said, although he was disposed to fight, yet he could get no one to be his armor-bearer or assistant. It could have been put upon the footing, that all had such regard for his life, that no one would countenance him in risking it. You would have saved him, by this

means, all that uneasiness which he feels at present, lest I should accept this challenge. I am not so unacquainted with human nature, as not to know how disagreeable it must be to think of having a pistol-ball lodged in the groin or the left breast; or, to make the best of it, the pan of the knee broke, or the nose cut off, or some wound less than mortal given; disagreeable, especially to a man in the bloom of life, and on the point of marriage with a woman to whose person or fortune he has no exception. I would venture to say, therefore, there will be no great difficulty in appeasing this Orlando Furioso, that has sent me the challenge. Did you know the state of his mind, you would find it to be his wish at this moment, that I would ease his fears, and make some apology. A very slight one would suffice. I dare say, his resentment against Miss Vapor is not slight, and that he would renounce her person and fortune both, to get quit of the duel. But the opinion of the world is against, him, and he must fight. Do you think he has any great gratitude to you for your services on this occasion? He had much rather you had, in the freedom of friendship, given him a kick, when he made application to you; and told him, that it did not become him to quarrel about a woman, who had, probably, consulted her own vanity, in giving him the information. In that case, he would have been more pleased with you a month hence, than he is at present. I do not know that he has an overstock of sense; nevertheless, he cannot be just such a fool, as not to consider that you, yourself, may have pretensions to this belle, and be disposed to have him out of the way before you. He must be a fool, indeed, if he does not reflect, that you had much rather see us fight than not; from the very same principle that we take delight in seeing a cock-match, or a horse-race. The spectacle is new, and produces a brisk current of thought through the mind, which is a constituent of pleasure; the absence of all movement giving none at all.

"What do you suppose I must think of you, Mr. Second; I, who have read books, and thought a little on the subject, have made up my mind in these matters, and account the squires that bring challenges from knights, as people of but very small desert? Thinking men have condemned the duel, and laws have prohibited it; but these miscreants still keep it up, by being the conductors of the fluid. My indignation, therefore, falls on such, and I have long ago fixed on the mode of treating them. It is this: a stout athletic man calls upon me with a challenge in his hand; I knock him down, if I can, without saying a word. If the natural arm be not sufficient for this purpose, I avail myself of any stone, wooden, or iron instrument that I cast my eye upon, not just to take away his life, if I can help it; but to hit the line as exactly as possible, between actual homicide and a very bad wound. For, in this case, I should conceive, a battery would be justifiable, or at least excusable, and the fine not great; the bearing a challenge being a breach of the peace, in the first instance. This would be my conduct with a stout athletic man, whom I might think it dangerous to encounter with fair warning, and on equal terms. But in the present case, where (here the second began to show signs of fear, raising himself, and inclining backwards, opening his eyes wider, and casting a look towards the door) where," continued the captain, "I have to do with a person of your slender make, I do not adopt that surprise, or use an artificial weapon; but

with these fists, which have been used to agricultural employments, I shall very deliberately impress a blow."

The second rising to his feet began to recede a little. "Be under no apprehensions," said the captain, "I will use no unfair method of biting, or gouging, or worse practice, common in what is called rough-and-tumble. Nay, as you appear to be a young man of delicate constitution, I shall only choke a little. You will give me leave to take you by the throat in as easy a manner as possible."

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In the mean time the second had been withdrawing towards the door, and the captain, with outstretched arms, in a sideway direction, proceeded to intercept him. In an instant he was seized by the neck, and the exclamation of murder, which he made at the first grasp, began to die away in hoarse guttural murmurs of one nearly strangled, and laboring for breath. The captain, meaning that he should be more alarmed than hurt, dismissed him with a salutation of his foot on the seat of honor, by way of claude ostium, as he went out. "You may be," said he, "a gentleman in the opinion of the world; but you are a low person in mine; and so it shall be done to every one who shall come upon such an errand."

Having thus dismissed the secondary man, he called in his servant Teague, and accosted him as follows: "Teague," said he, "you have heretofore discovered an ambition to be employed in some way that would advance your reputation. There is now a case fallen out, to which you are fully competent. It is not a matter that requires the head to contrive, but the hand to execute. The greatest fool is as fit for it as a wise man. It is indeed your greatest blockheads that chiefly undertake it. The knowledge of law, physic, or divinity, is out of the question. Literature and political understanding is useless. Nothing more is necessary than a little resolution of the heart. Yet it is an undertaking which is of much estimation with the rabble, and has a great many on its side to approve and praise it. The females of the world, especially, admire

the act, and call it valor. I know you wish to stand well with the ladies. Here is an opportunity of advancing your credit. I have had what is called a challenge sent to me this morning. It is from a certain Jacko, who is a suitor to a Miss Vapor, and has taken offence at an expression of mine respecting him. I wish you to accept the challenge, and fight him for me.'

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At this proposition, Teague looked wild, and made apology, that he was not much used to boxing or cudgelling, except, when he had a quarrel, or at a fair at home. 'Boxing!" said the captain, "you are to fight what is called a duel. You are to encounter him with pistols, and put a bullet through him if you can. It is true, he will have the chance of putting one through you; but in that consists the honor; for where there is no danger there is no glory. You will provide yourself a second. There is an hostler here at the public-house, that is a brave fellow, and will answer the purpose. Being furnished with a second, you will provide yourself with a pair of pistols, powder, and ball of course. In the mean time your adversary, notified of your intentions, will do the like. Thus equipped, you will advance to the place agreed upon. The ground will be measured out; ten, seven, or five steps; back to back, and coming round to your place, fire. Or taking your ground, stand still and fire; or it may be, advance and fire as you meet, at what distance you think proper. The rules in this respect are not fixed, but as the parties can agree, or the seconds point out. When you come to fire, be sure you keep a steady hand, and take good aim. Remember that the pistol-barrel being short, the powder is apt to throw the bullet up. Your sight, therefore, ought to be about the waistband of his breeches, so that you have the whole length of his body, and his head in the bargain, to come and go upon. It is true, he, in the mean time, will take the same advantage of you. He may hit you about the groin, or the belly. I have known some shot in the thigh, or the leg. The throat also, and the head, are in themselves vulnerable. It is no uncommon thing to have an arm broke, or a splinter struck off the nose, or an eye shot out; but as in that case the ball mostly passes through the brain, and the man being dead at any rate, the loss of sight is not felt."

As the captain spoke, Teague seemed to feel in himself every wound which was described; the ball hitting him, now in one part, and now in another. At the last words, it seemed to pass through his head, and he was half dead, in imagination. Making a shift to express himself, he gave the captain to understand, that he could by no means undertake the office. "What!" said the captain; "you, whom nothing would serve, some time ago, but to be a legislator, or philosopher, or preacher, in order to gain fame, will now decline a business for which you are qualified! This requires no knowledge of finances, no reading of natural history, or any study of the fathers. You have nothing more to do than keep a steady hand and a good eye. "In the early practice of this exercise, I mean the combat of the duel, it was customary to exact an oath of the combatants, before they entered the lists, that they had no enchantments, or power of witchcraft, about them. Whether you should think it necessary to put him to his voir dire on this point, I shall not say; but I am persuaded, that on your part, you have too much honor to make use of spells, or undue means, to take away his life or save

your own. You will leave all to the chance of fair shooting. One thing you will observe, and which is allowable in this matter; you will take care not to present yourself with a full breast, but angularly, and your head turned round over the left shoulder, like a weather-cock. For thus a smaller surface being presented to an adversary, he will be less likely to hit you. You must throw your legs into lines parallel, and keep them one directly behind the other. Thus you will stand like a sail hauled close to the wind. Keep a good countenance, a sharp eye, and a sour look; and if you feel any thing like a colic, or a palpitation, of the heart, make no noise about it. If the ball should take you in the gills, or the gizzard, fall down as decently as you can, and die like a man of honor."

It was of no use to urge the matter; the Irishman was but the more opposed to the proposition, and utterly refused to be after fighting in any such manner. The captain, finding this to be the case, dismissed him to clean his boots and spurs, and rub down his horse in the stable.

On reflection, it seemed advisable to the captain to write an answer to the card which Colonel or Major Jacko, or whatever his title may have been, had sent him this morning. It was as follows:

"SIR,-I have two objections to this duel matter. The one is, lest I should hurt you; and the other is, lest you should hurt me. I do not see any good it would do me to put a bullet through any part of your body. I could make no use of you when dead for any culinary purpose, as I would a rabbit or a turkey. I am no cannibal to feed on the flesh of men. Why then shoot down a human creature of which I could make no use? A buffalo would be better meat. For though your flesh may be delicate and tender, yet it wants that firmness and consistency which takes and retains salt. At any rate, it would not be fit for long sea voyages. You might make a good barbecue, it is true, being of the nature of a raccoon or an opossum; but people are not in the habit of barbecuing any thing human now. As to your hide, it is not worth taking off, being little better than that of a year-old colt.

"It would seem to me a strange thing to shoot at a man that would stand still to be shot at; inasmuch as I have been heretofore used to shoot at things flying, or running, or jumping. Were you on a tree now, like a squirrel, endeavoring to hide yourself in the branches, or like a raccoon, that af ter much eyeing and spying, I observe at length in the crotch of a tall oak, with boughs and leaves intervening, so that I could just get a sight of his hinder parts, I should think it pleasurable enough to take a shot at you. But as it is, there is no skill or judgment requisite either to discover or take you down.

"As to myself, I do not much like to stand in the way of any thing harmful. I am under apprehensions you might hit me. That being the case, I think it most advisable to stay at a distance. If you want to try your pistols, take some object, a tree, or a barn-door, about my dimensions. If you hit that, send me word, and I shall acknowledge that if I had been in the same place, you might also have hit me. JOHN FARRAGO,

Late Captain, Penn. Militia. MAJOR VALENTINE JACKO, U. Š. Army.”

The captain was a good man, but unacquainted with the world. His ideas were drawn chiefly from

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