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A r 1 a W. & J. B. WHITAKER, EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. VOLUME II. NUMBER 11. RALEIGH, APRIL 9, 1842. A SINGLE COPY ,3 "WE COME, THE HERALD OF A JVOISY WORLD. five cehts. TERMS. The Rasp is published every Saturday morn ing, at One Dollar and Fifty Cents per annum payable in advance. H3 Any person sending us sixnew subscri bers, and the subscription money for one year shall receive the seventh number free ot charge for ihe same length ot time. Advertisements conspicuously inserted, at the very reduced price of Fifty Cents per square for the first insertion, and Twenty-five Cents for each continuance. THE FUKLOUGH, AN IRISH ANECDOTE. In the auturrn of 1825 some private affairs called me into the sister kingdom; and as I did not travel, like Polyphemus, with my eye out, I gathered a few samples of Irish character, a. mongst which was the following incident: I was standing one morning at the window of 'mine Inn,' when my attention was attracted by a seene that took place beneath. The Bel fast coach was standing at the door, and on the root, in front, set a solitary outside passen ger, a fine young fellow iu the uniform of the Connaught Rangers. Below, by the front wheel, stood an old woman, seemingly his mother, a young man, and a young woman, sister or sweetheart; and they were all earn estly entreating the young soldier to descend from his seat on ihe coach. 'Come down wid ye, Thady' the speaker was the old woman 'come down now to your ould mother; sure it's flog ye they will, and strip the flesh off the bones I give ye. Come down, Thady, darlin'I' 'It's honor, mother.' was the short reply of the soldier: and with clenched hands and set teeth, he took a stiffer posture on the coach. 'Thady, come down come down, ye fool of the world come alung down wid ye!' The tone of the present appeal was more impatient and perempiory than the last; and the answer was more promptly and sternly pronounced : . 'It's honor, brother!' and the body of the spea ker rose more rigidly erect than ever on the roof. 'O Thady come down! sure it's me, your own Kathleen that bids ye! Come down, or ye'll break ihe heart of me, Thady, jevvel;come down then!' The noor girl wrunsr her hands as she said it. and cast a look upward that had a visible effect on the muscles of the soldier's countenance. There was more tenderness in his tone, but it conveyed the same resolution as before. 'It's honor, honor bright, Kathleen!' and, as if to defend himself from another glance, he fixed his lock steadfastly in front, while the renewed entreaties burst from all three in cho rus, with the same answer. 'Come down, Thady, honey ! Thadv, ye fool, come down! O Thady, down to me!' 'It's honor, mother ! I'ts honor, brother ! Honor bright, my own Kathleen!' Although the poor fellow was a private, this appeal was so public that I did not hesitate to go u'own and inquire into the particulars of the distress. It appeared that he had been home on furlough, to visit his family, and having ex ceeded, as he thought, the term of his leave,he was going to rejoin his regiment, and to under go the penalty of his neglect. I asked him when the furlough expired. 'The first of March, your honor bad luck to it of all the black days in the world and here it is, come sudden on me like a shot!' 'The first of March? why my good fellow have a day to spare then- the first of March will not be here till to-morrow. It is Leap year, and February has twenty-nine days.' The soldier was thunder-struck. 'Twenty- nine days is it? you're sartm of that same!- Oh, mother, mother! the devil fly away wid yere ould almanac a base cratur of a book, to be deceiven one, afther living so long in the amtly of us!' His first impulse was to cut a caper on the roof ot the coach, and throw up his cap with a loud hurrah! His second was to throw him self into the arms of his Kathleen ; and the third was to wring my hand off in acknowledgment. 'Its a happy man I am, yourhonor, for my word's saved, and all by your honors manes. Long life to your honor for the same. May ye ive a long hundred and lape years every one of them. English paper. THE MONKEY Who shaved himself and his friends. A man who own'd a barber's shop At York, and shav'd full many a fop, A monkey kept for their amusement; He made no other kind of use on't This monkey took great observation, Was wonderful at imitation, And all he saw the barber do, He mimie'd straight, and did it too. It chanced in shop, the dog and cat, While friseur dined, demurely sat, Jacko found nought to play the knave in, So thought he'd try his hand at shaving. Around the shop in haste he rushes, And gets the razor, soap and brushes; Now puss he fix'd (no muscle miss stirs) And lather'd veil her beard and whiskers, Then gave a gash as he began The cat cry'd "waugh!"aud offshe ran. Next Towser's beard he try'd his skill in, Though Towser seem'd somewhat unwilling: As badly here again succeeding, The dog runs howling round and bleeding. Nor yet was tired our roguish elf; He'd seen the barber shave himself; So by the glass, upon the table, He rubs with soap his visage sable, Then with left hand holds smooth his jaw The razor in his dexter paw; Around he flourishes and siashes, Til! all his face is seam'd with gashes. His cheeks despatch'd his visage thin He cock'd, to shave beneath his chin; Drew razor swift as he coulJ pull it, And cut from ear to ear his gullet. 'Jimmy, do you go to school?' 'Yes sir, to the school kept by Miss Post !' 'Not a whip ping Post, I hope,' 'Oh, no, sir, she is a guide Post.' A trader at a place up the river publishes iu a paper a poetical list of articles by him for sale. The advertisment concludes with the following truly beautiful and original distich: 'Sulphur and Salts to cure the scratches, Ard for the gals I've got some matches. How are you? asked a gentleman the other day of a mantuamaker. 'Only eeW'Sew,1 an swered she. 'Pa, do they plough the prisoner's faces up at Sing Sing?' 'No, my son, what made you ask that ques tion? ' 'Cause it says here that one of their faces was furrowed.9 'Go to bed, Sammy, go to bed, and dont go out of the house, someboby might steal you. Love is a heavenly feast of which none but the sincere and, honest partake. It is as im possible for a man truly to love as for a hypo crite to go to heaven. Why aTe the doating ladies like a spoon in a cup of tea? , Because they are in-tea-resting. 'Dont say neigh,' as the fellers sung ven they stole the horses. 'I'd thank you for that vinegar,' said a gen tleman to a fellow boarder, while seated at dinner. 'Ah, its of no consequence, I can look at my wife's face' as the phiz of that lady assumed an uncommon sour look. A crash was heard an awful quantity of fragments of earthen ware and 'wittals' covered the floor, and the unlucky wight was seen making for the doc exclaiming, 'I'm dished, by G .' We were tickled almost to death at a little thing we heard yesterday. A drunken loafer was tottling along with a jug of whiskey, and as he attempted to climb a fence, he fell on one side of the fence, and the jug on the other. The liquor immediately commenced running out, and when it was nearly gone, the loafer raised himself upon his elbow and listened to the liquor asjit came out with its peculiar sound of 'good, good, good!' 'Oh, yes!' said the loa fer," 'I know you are good, but d-n you, leant get at you.' We sloped. Cin. Mic. iMOD From the Hamburg Journal. An Abstractionist. An ugly, thick lip ne gro was fast asleep the other day, securely resting against the sunny side of one of the warehouses; whose lips stuck out a feet, natu rally causingmischievous boys to be on the alert. Now it so happened that one of the several boys, that were attracted by Cuff's position, chewed tobacco. And it likewise occurred to this same said boy, to play a trick upon the same said Cuff. The chew was forthwith ex tracted, poised, let fly. and fell plump into Cuff's extended lips. The weight and taste soon aroused darkie, who, looking up, espied his tormentors. Cuff was so enraged and not being able to obtain redress at the moment, wisely concluded to inform the father of the boy, of his acts. With the chew still between his lips, he mutters out, 'You see dis now,you varmints ! I shan't take it out at all. I carry it rite 'trait to yer fader.' Off Cuffmoved for redress, and we to our business; and we have not yet understood the decision of the boy's father. Forty years ago, if a mechanic proposed to do your work, you might depend on his word, it would be done. Forty years ago, when a mechanic finished his work, he was paid for it. Forty years ago, printers were paid, there fore enabled to pay their debts. What a fall ing off. A man in Kentucky, lately committed, sui cide by hanging himself on the very day he was to have been married. A foolish act that, to slip his neck into the wrong noose perhaps. A Bright Child. 'Father, I do wish you would send for the doctor.' 'Why so, my child, are you sick?' 'No, I ain't exactly sick.' 'Then why do you want the doctor?' 'Cause, I want he should come and feel of my pulse, and tell me whether I'm tired or lazy !' From the Joneabero Whig. INTERESTING LOVE LETTER. We have been furnished by a friend, with the following interesting letter, written: by a coal-black slave ot this town, to a Zarfre grecjy mulatto wench with whose 'blue eyes' the writter seems to have been perfectly captiva ted. Jonesborodgh March the 9th 1842. Dear Miss Elizar? I embrace the oppoituni-; ty of writing To you? to Let yon know that I am well and hope these few lines may find you in the Same State of Health? I now tell ; you mis Eliza? I did not Sleep a Wink on Sunday night? because Lore took plaee that day about 2 oclock A M? it is true you are a Coloured Girl and so am I a Coloured Boy? but indeed you are the prettyest Female that I ever set my scruples upon? you hare got a fine face and Beautiful blue eyes eXtreemly fine and good? ever thing about you all accept, one remark I have to make about you? Why you have got a Fashion snapping people up Like pie Cruste? accept me? I never knew you to do me so? I would not Wish to, insult you Mis Eliza? for I do really think that you would make me A Good wife? And I would make you A Good Husband? Ekernomercal people allways go a long? a mand Could not raise his Come his oats nor hi Kattle? With out being industrious? a mand Cant Cultivate nothin WTithout he work? of all the ladies in the West? liza hunt I think the best? Gods Commandments? do not steal? do not sware? do not tell a lie? Honor thy father an mother? that thy days may be longer? , now I have put nothing in This-letter to make a fuse? because I rote it on ascount of Miss Eliza Hunt? the holy bibles speaks of all Commandment'? I Just put it in because the bibles before me 4 I am not hinting on nobody stealing a tall? Jesus my on to heaven is gone? he whom I fix my hopes upond? , Dr. B. informs us that he has' a patient so dread fullj irritable on the subject, of water, that he won't wear his watch because there is a spring in it. To pelt a man with eggs, unless they axe rotten ones, is getting to be considered an un pardonable waste of chickens, 'What is the reason, my love, that since you lost your teeth, you are forever talking?1 asked an anxious husband of his adored wife. 'Be cause, my dear, there is so much room in my mouth, my tongue can't keep stilL' A lady who was married to a gentleman of the most winning manners and address, and with whom she had many slight quarrels, and sweet reconciliations, once said, that he had' made her shed tears for the pleasure of kissing them away. An honorable member of the Legislature told us one of the richest things, yesterday, we ever heard. He says that two of his constitu ents were such exquisite rascals,' that having' one calf between them, each stole it from" the other, and put his own 'brand1 upon it to often,' that in two days they completely' burned the poor animal up. Why is a person getting rheumatic like one locking a cupboard door? Because he's tarn' ing achy (a key.) s Why is a loud laugh in the House of Com- raons likeNapolean Buonaparte? -Because it's' an M P. roar (an Emperor.) - Why is one and sixpence like an aversion to coppers ? Because it's hating pence eigk teen pence.!
The Rasp. (Raleigh, N.C.)
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April 9, 1842, edition 1
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