The Rhode Island Republican

From Poulson's Daily Advertiser.

SAVE THE PIECES.

I recollect when very young, my father gave me some cloth to carry to the tailor's, to make a suit of clothes, and my mother, just as I went out of the door, laid a strict injunction upon me, to tell the tailor to save the pieces; in due time, when my clothes wanted mending, my mother wanted the pieces, but the pieces could not be found; upon which we had a strong lecture upon the useful practice of saving the pieces. This lesson was so often repeated during my youth, as to make an indelible impression on my mind, so as I grew up, I was pretty careful to save the pieces; and this disposition led me into the habit of looking round among my neighbors to see if they also were equally careful to save the pieces. We live now, Mr. Printer, at the sign of the times is altered, and it becomes the duty of every one that is desirous of avoiding ruin, to save the pieces; every body appears to be thoroughly convinced of this necessity, at least as far as talking goes—but many having been for years in the habit of throwing them away, make very awkward attempts at saving the pieces.—

When I see a family drinking rye coffee for breakfast, and Madeira wine, at six dollars per gallon at dinner, these people, thinks I, don't understand saving the pieces. When I see the young ladies tripping along Chesnut-street, trick'd out in silks, and ruffles and founces, and furbelows, 'and I can't tell what—their mothers, thinks I, had better keep them at home, and teach them to save the pieces. When I see half a dozen dandies with high heeled boots, and snipe tailed coats, mincing along arm and arm like so many petit maitres—these chaps, says I, will never know any thing about the pieces. And when I heard a young lady just behind them, declare her shawl was monstrous cheap, it cost only eighty dollars, thinks I, if these parties should ever intermarry, what fine work they will make at saving the pieces. And, when I read, a few days ago, that eleven hundred and sixty-five dollars were spent in one night at the theatre, I am afraid, says I, notwithstanding their professions, some people are averse to saving the pieces.—

The other day I went to see neighbor Thrift; his wife was up to the elbows in flour, she was making bread. "Neighbor Square Toes," says she, "Housekeepers are not generally aware of the great saving there is in using flour in preference to animal food; and the children greatly prefer pies and puddings, and now and then a sweetened loaf, and besides being cheaper, its much more wholesome."

"Wheat flour, at the present price, is only about two cents and a half, and rye flour only about one cent and a half per pound, and this too without bones—no bones in flour, neighbor Square Toes; while for butchers' meat, we must pay from six to twelve cents per pound, bones and all!" This woman, said I, understands saving the pieces. In fact, Mr. Printer, we must no longer puzzle our brains with contriving how to get money by head work and speculation, but we must apply the shoulder to the wheel with all the energy in our power, as the only means now left us of saving the pieces.

SQUARE TOES.