Review And Telegraph

MATRIMONIAL HORNPIPE.

The following amusing sketch, says the N. Y. American, from a recently published little work, entitled 'Georgia Scenes,' is well worth reading. The writer is on a visit to Mr. Slang, whose wife is the mother of a child about eight months old.—The child in the adjoining room begins to cry in the nurse's arms. The nurse is a little 'nigger,' about fourteen years old:

'You Rose,' said Mrs. Slang, 'quiet that child.'

Rose walked and sung to it; but it did not hush.

'I is tried ma'am,' said Rose, 'an' he would'nt get hushed.' (Child cries louder.)

'Fetch him here to me, you good-for-nothing huzzy you. What's the matter with him?' reaching out her arms to receive him.

'I dun know, ma'am.'

'Nhei-nhun-nho-ma'am!' (Mocking and grinning at Rose.)

As Rose delivered the child she gave visible signs of dodging just as the child left her arms, and that she might not be disappointed Mrs. S gave her a box, in which there seemed to be no anger mixed at all, and which Rose received as a matter of course, without even changing countenance under it.

'Da den!' said Mrs. Slang, 'come elong e muddy [mother.] Did nassy Yosey (Rose) pague muddy thweedy chilluns? (children); pressing the child to her bosom, and rocking it backward and forward tenderly.' Muddy will whippy ole nassy Yosey. Ah! you old uggy Yosey, (knocking at Rose playfully.) Da dea; muddy did whippy bad Yosey.' (Child continues crying)

Why, what on earth ails the child! Rose, you have hurt this child somehow or other?'

'No ma'am, cla' I din'nt; I was just sittin' down dar in the rock'n chair long side 'o Miss Nancy's bureau, an' want doin' nothin' 't all to him, jis playin' wid him, and he jis begin to cry herself, when nobody want doin' nothin''t all to him, and nobody want in dar nurthur sept jist me and him, and I was

'Nhn-nning-nhing-and I expect you hit his head against the bureau.'

'Let muddy see where ole bad Yosey knocky heady gin de bureaus. Muddy will see' taking off the child's cap and finding nothing. Child cries on.

'Muddy's baby was hungry. Dat was what ails muddy's darling, thsweety ones. Was cho hongrey, an' noboddy would givy lity darling any sing 't all for eaty? (loosing her frock bosom.)—'No, nobody would gim tshweety ones any sings fo' eat 'tall.' (Offers the breast to the child, who rejects it, rolls over, kicks and screams more than ever.)

'Hush! you little brat! I believe it's nothing in the world but crossness. Hush! (shaking it) hush! I tell you.' (Child cries to the ne plus ultra.)

'Why, surely a pin must stick the child. Yes, e bad pin did ticky chilluns. Let muddy see where de uggy pin did ticky dear prettous creter.' (examining) Why, no, it isn't a pin. Why, what can be the matter with the child? It must be the cholic surely. Rose, go bring me the paregoric off the mantlepiece. Yes, muddy's baby, did have a tole. Dat is what did ail muddy's prettous darling baby. [Pressing it to her bosom and rocking it. Child cries on.]

Rose brought the paregoric, handed it, dodged, and got her expectations realized as before.

'Now bring me the sugar, and some water.'

Rose brought them, and delivered both without the customary reward; for at that moment the child being laid perfectly still on the lap, hushed.

The paregoric was administered, and the child received it with a whimper now and then. As soon as it received the medicine the mother raised it up and it began to cry.

Why, Lord help my soul! what's the matter with the child? What have you done to him, you little hussy? [Rising and walking towards Rose.]

'Cla,' missis, I aint done nothin''t all; was jis sittin' down da by Miss Nancy bu—

'You lie, you slut, [hitting her a passing slap] I know you've hurt him. Hush my baby, [singing the Coquette] dont you cry; your sweet-heart will come by'm'by; da de dum day, da de dum diddle dum dum day. [Child cries on.]

'Lord help my soul and body! what can be the matter with my baby?' [tears coming into her eyes] 'Something's the matter with it. I know it is;' [laying the child on her lap and feeling of it arms to see if it flinched in any particular part.] But the child cries less while she was feeling it than before.

'Yes, dat was it; wanted little arms yubbed.—Mud will yub its sweet litle arms' [Child begins crying.]

'What on earth can make my baby cry so?' rising and walking to the window. [Stops at the window as the child hushes.]

'Yes dat was it; aid want to look outo' windys! See the pretiy chiekens. O-o o-h: Look at the beauty rooster! Yonder's old aunt Betty, pieking up chips. Yes, old aunt Betty picking up chips fo' bake bicky [biscuit] for good chilluns.—Good aunt Betty fo' make Bicky fo' sweet baby's supper.' [Child begins again.]

'Hoo-o-o! See windy! [Knocking at the window. Child cries.]

'You Rose, what have you done to this child! You little hussy you, if you don't tell me how you hurt him, I'll whip you as long as I can find you.'

'Missis. I cla' I never done nothin't all to him. I was jis sittin down da by Miss Nancy's bu—

'If you say' Miss Nandy's bureau' to me again I'll stuff Miss Naney's bureau down your throat, you little lying slut. I'm just as sure you hurt him, as if I'd seen you. How did you hurt him?'

Here Rose was reduced to a non plus; for upon the peril of having a bureau stuffed down her throat, she dare not repeat the oft-told tale, and she knew no other. She therefore stood mute.

'Julia,' said Mr. Slang, 'bring the child to me, and let me see if I can discover the cause of his crying.'

Mr. Slang took the child and commenced a careful examination of it. He removed its cap, and beginning at the crown of his head he extended the search slowly and cautiously downward, accompanying the eye with the touch of the finger. He had not proceeded far in this way before he discovered in the right ear of the child a small feather, the cause, of course, of all its wailing. The cause removed, the child soon changed its tears to smiles, greatly to the delight of all, and to none more than Rose.