The Portsmouth Inquirer

A Hoosier In Boston.—The editor of the Cincinnati Inquirer writing from Boston. tells the following story "Western folks feel in this city as though in a strait waistcoat. for their personal liberty is so hedged in that freedom of action is gone. Those addicted to smoking especially, feel twice the desire to promenade the streets, cigar in mouth, from the bare act that the enemies of the fragrant weed have forbid its use in the streets of Boston. I heard an excellent anecdote of the adventures of a live Hoosier in this city, which illustrates the municipal regulations of this mummy dissecting city, better than a book. After a good dinner at his hotel, he ignited a cigar, and started out for a stroll. After a few steps a policeman tapped him on the shoulder, and informed him that the penalty was two dollars for the offence of smoking. He promptly pulled out a five dollar bill and received a three in change. Proceeding on his walk, in a few minutes he next met a beggar girl who asked for something to eat. Recollecting that he had the remains of a hunk of gingerbread the peculiar diet of Hoosier land, in his pocket, he generously proffered it to the mendicant. Again was he tapped on the shoulder, and told it was against the laws of Boston to give away offal. as it all belonged to the city, and requested two more dollars for this grave offence. The three dollar bill was drawn out, and when the policeman tendered one in change it was refused by the Hoosier. with the cool remark, "No, keep it, I shall want to whistle in a few minutes."