Your account does not include highlighter on images.
Searches Highlighted on Image
| February 5, 1850 Barnstable Patriot |  |
|
©
Publisher. All rights reserved. Upgrade to access Premium Tools
PAGE 1 (1 of 4 available) PREVIOUS NEXT Jumbo Image Save To Scrapbook Set Notifiers PDF JPG
February 5, 1850 |
|
|
Website © 2025. All content copyrighted. Copyright Information Terms Of Use | Privacy Policy | Request Content Removal | About / FAQ | Get Acrobat Reader 
|
BABNSTABLE PATRIOT,
COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER,
IgK ED EVERY TUESDAY , A FEW DOORS
18
WFST OF THE COURT HOUSK , BY
S. B. PHINNEY,
ed it or a n d P r o p r i e t o r .
Vt'ii. D. LEWIS PRINTER. , j
TFRMS—Two dollars per j-ear, in adva nce, or
• Jn three months—or "two dollars and fifty cents at
, »nd of th e year.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted on the most fav ora-
hl'
X^ o paper discontinued until nil arrearages are
XeW"t* 0**™ °
1^
^
^
„-.
NOTICE .—Those who diffuse most widel y and
, S^hly a knowled ge of their busi ness pursuits (oth-
*
£ being equal) will of course attract the most
6
,tomers-the newspaper press is the most effectual
*
'""of diffusing information in populous districts of
wountrv in which papers are published.
V B PALMER , No. 8 Congress street, Boston, is
i iwent for the best papers throug hout the Union ,
A A ilv receivin g advertisements and subscri ptions
luhe publishers' lowest rates. _______
MISCELLANEOUS,
We cut the following from a recent number of
the Christian Register. It has in it a natural prr
thos
thai will hard l y fail to bring the liem t to the throat
of any who read it ; while the lesson it so touching ly
and gracefull y gives , is one for every husband and
father to take inlo his heart :
The Mechanic's Wife.
B Y M A R Y L E M A N G I L L I E S .
" Shall you be very late toni ght ?" This ques-
tion was asked , in a soil , low voice , by a very pale ,
but very sweet young creature , as she parted from
her husband in the street.
"I do not know that I shall ," he replied , some-
what coldl y, as rep lacing his cigar between his li ps,
he turned away. There was carelessness rather than
unkimlness in his manner , and she looked after him
more in sorrow than in reproach. Taking the hand
of her little boy, she slowl y bent her steps home-
ward , with that droop ing of the head which bespeaks
sadness of heart . It was a Saturday ni ght; she had
been marketing, and her little purchases were con-
tained in a basket which hung upon her arm. On
reaching home , the very uppermost floor of a house
in a poor but decent nei ghborhood , she roused the
fire , seated Phili p, her little son , beside it , gave him
a piece of bread and butter for his supper , and be-
gan to busy herself in putting away the tew necessa-
ries she had boug ht. l\\ the time this was done , the
droop ing head of little Phili p told her he was read y
for his pillow . How tenderl y he was taken to his
lonel y mother 's lap—his pretty face washed—his
bri ght hair brushed , find lie arrayed in his snowy
bed gown. Pressed to her bosom , she wanned his
little feet, her fond bund returning to them again
and again from the fire, to which she every now and
then held her open palm , then pressing the soft foot ,
she kissed it play full y, and provoked the laug hter so
sweet to a mother 's ear. These were Phili p's first
charming lessons; thus were gentleness and love
awakened in his infant spirit by his capable , but tin-
instructed , unassisted mother. How full of meaning
was his smile—how full of animation ! and when ,
kneelin g in her lap, she joined his little hands , and
bade him ask his Heavenl y Father to bless his earth-
ly parent , how sympatheticall y he caug ht the sweet-
ly serious look-—the calm and hol y tone of his in-
structress.
When this little prayer was said , he flung his
arms about her neck , and cheek to cheek they mur-
mured together the lulling song which concluded
this little drama ; for his eyes slowl y closed , and the
smile passed from his face , and then he was gentl y
consi gned to his snug and snowy bed.
So far all was sweet ; would it mi ght bo said all
was calm ; but the aching void in Susan 's heart was
not calmness , it was rather a craving for that mental
and social aliment which is a necessity of every
breast , and cannot long be healthil y denied to any.
The more energetic spirits seek such associations or
stimulants as chance presents them ; the gentle sub-
mit and suffer , often perish , in silence.
Susan put a little fuel soft ly on the fire , trimmed
her candle , and sat down with the zealous woman 's
usual companion—her work basket. A deep si gh
stole from her bosom. Still the ceaseless needle was
plied. Now and then she paused—it was to wi pe
away the tears that would gather on her lashes. She
was just two and twentv , and had been four years
married , during all which time , with the biief ex-
ception of a few weeks previous to their settlement
in town , she had thus been left nig ht after nig ht in
loneliness. Phili p Morris , her husband , was an hon-
est , industrious man , with a hundred good qualities ;
sober , and solicitous of securing to his famil y all the
comforts his means afforded , he broug ht his weekl y
earnings , with a very small reservation for some
trillin g indul gences for himself , to his wife , and with
thw utmost ti ust in her management and economy,
left them to her disposal. But while thus trusting
and liberal , he seemed to consider that he acquitted
himself of all that Susan might demand of him. —
While he soug ht improvement for himself , it never
occurred to him it was her equal ri ght—would be
to her an equal advantage ; while he sought the in-
terchange of thoug ht with other minds , he never re-
flected on the utter privation of such oomymnion he
had entailed on her. He had taken her from the
home of her f.ither , a small fanner , where her moth-
er , a pains-taking woman , had broug ht up Susan
and several brothers and sisters, for their station , re-
markably well.
Her father 's heart was one ever flowing with the
milk of human kindness ; and thus , aided by the
cheerfu l spirits of their cherished children , a moral
sunshine had li ghted up that lowl y home , and given
it a thousand claims upon her love and memory. At
moments Susan would look back on the brief time
that Iiad been emp loyed to woo her from it , as a
dream ; the whispered words of love—the promises
of devotion—of endeavors for her happ iness—the
mi ghty city in which she was to dwell (which ap-
peared to her a maze of mud and stone , ill exchang-
ed for the daisied fields , with their sweet breath and
bri ght atmosp here)—had all tended to an undefma-
ble disappo intment ; yet , in the innocent ignorance
of her heart , she could scarcel y have stated of what
she had to comp lain. She loved her husband ; she
was proud of his superior abilities ; and made no
mean estimate of his hi gh moral character , iimle-
based in the sli ghtest degree by the gross vices
which , secluded as was her life , she could not but
perceive marked many around her , subj ecting their
wives to brutality and privation. Compared wiih
such offences, she persuaded herself that Phili p's
neg lect was a light and venial fault , and blamed her-
self for feeling it so much. But Susan was one of
those flowers of humanity that would have amp ly re-
paid cultivation , and that needed the sunshine of
sympathetic kindness , the, air of the social atmos-
phere to keep them in health and life. Dail y food
was scarcel y more necessary to her physical nature
than the interchange of thoug ht and kindliness was
to her sp iritu al natur e ; all this , her husband 's hab-
its, and the unsociable plans of life in England , espe-
ciall y in London , denied her. It is true , pxoc-.pt
morall y, she was uncult ivated , but she had talent
and temperament that would soon have repaid a
little kindl y care. Too timid , too ignorant to plead
her own cause , or urge her claims to him who had
prec luded appeal to all others , she unc omp laining ly
lived on without change , without stimulu s , or exefte-
ment ; shut up within the four walls of her humble
home , walking unrelieved the dull unvar y ing round
of her domestic duties , with her sp irit full '"
of enpa-
bilitios unexp lored and unexpanded. She grew ner-
vous and hectic , her appetite and sp irits failed , her
frame wasted ; while , quiet and unrep ining, almost
herself unconscious of her malad y or its cause , con-
sumption was rap idl y developed. She was deemed
delicate ; medical advice was soug ht , and medicine
and care essayed , while none guessed the quick cur-
rent of feeling that flowed beneath the quiet bearing
of that subdued , decay ing woman ; it wore the chan-
nel throu gh whirh it made its secret way, but seem-
ed to brighten the spirit it was soon to extinguish.
Susan ,' after a time felt that she was passing ^thro
the valley of the shadow of death. This conviction
did not depress her energ ies—it awakened them .—
She had communed with her own meek heart , lifted
it, to her mi ghty Maker , and remembered with con-
solation that it is said , " Those also servo who onl y
stand and wait." She strugg led on from day to day
in the performance of her duties , amid many priva-
tions , the worst of all privations , that of mental de-
velopment and social cheer ; yet had she a conscious
account in her own heart ,and her sincere and unas-
sisted endeavor had no doubt a register amid the
higher achievements of more favored minds. With
ilie certainty that she was not long for this scene ,
she l edoubled her exertions to put her little house-
hold in order. She repaired and made clothes for
hoi child , and , as she laid them away, embalmed
them with her tear?. In the same manner her needle
toiled for her husband , and the savings which her
frugality effected were employed to purchase him
sundry little comforts.
" These will keep him warm when I. am cold ,"
she thoug ht; "he will little think that while lie for-
got me, (or better company 'tis true , my onl y hap-
piness was to remember Jam, and that I shall scarce-
ly be more solitary in the grave to which I urn go-
ing, than I have been in the home to which he
broug ht me."
Sometimes a little ink bottle was taken from the
mantle shelf , and a sheet of paper from her little ta-
ble drawer , and then , with effort, a few lines were
traced , and the paper hidden carefull y awa y, as if
she had committed a crime. One ni ght she had
more endeavor of this kind than usual , and the strug-
gling unassisted spirit of intelli gence was burning in
her bli ght hazel eye, and glowing on her beau tifu l
cheek , when she was startled by an unusual noise.
The paper was hurried to the shelf , and taking the
candle she went out to the landin g place. She be-
held her husband , assisted by two men , slowl y as-
cending the stairs. He had met with an accident ;
had broken his arm—it had been set—he had faint-
ed during the operation—and , with the ghastliness
of aspect incident to such ciicumstances , appeared
b e i *
core her.
J his event prostrated Philip Morris for some time ,
during which Susan nursed him with unremittin g
care. It was long before he was able to return to
work , but his emp loyers were liberal and considerate
and did not forget in his weakness the man who had
toiled for their advantage in his days of health and
strength . But thoug h unable to pursue his manual
labors ,Phili p Morris soon made an effort to get abroad
in search of mental occupation and mental enjoy-
ment. He went to his club , to the Mechanic 's In-
stitute , to the coffee-shops where lie could find the
best selected books and the most newspapers. All
this was well done ; he nobl y determined to rescue
himself from becoming the mere machine of toil , the
drud ge for so much "trash as can be grasped thus. ''
Alas ! had he but thoug ht- of lier whom he had
promised to love and cherish till death should part
them—had he considered whether site had not a soul
of equal value with his own , perhaps an intellect as
capable of repay ing culture—then had lie been twice
blessed—blessed in the act and its reaction.
But selfishl y devoted to his own objects of pursuit ,
habituate d to the wan looks of his quiet wife, he
failed to perceive that her check grew paler ,and her
voice weaker ; not that he had been insensible or
indifferent to her care and anxiet y during his illness;
but with renovated health lie returned to his old hab-
its , and accustomed to receive sacrifices without
makin g any, lie sinned against gratitude and good
feeling almost unconsciousl y. Graduall y Susan found
herself unequal to even the dail y walk with little
Phili p, or the effort of going up and down stairs ,and
there was some talk of her returnin g home for a time ,
and try ing the effeets 'of her native air. She smiled
feebl y as this was spoken of,yet felt unnatually temp-
ted ; she knew that she was going to a further and a
better home , and often did she wish to say as much ;
but she was not eloquent of words, nor sufficientl y
strong in spirits , and after trio or three fruitless at-
tempts she desisted , and pursued , as far as she was
able , the even tenor of her way.
Phili p Morris recovered his health , and was re-
stored to work and full wages ; again he talked of
the country Cor Susan , and insisted on her try ing a
new doctor ; ho soug ht to tempt her appetite by such
rarities as he could afford , but still he could not re-
sign his own peculiar habits and enjoy ments , and
among the evils these entailed were late hours. One
ni ght he returned home , as nsircil , about midni ght ,
when on opening the door , instead of the small bri ght
fire , the trimmed candle , and the pale ,palient work-
er he was accustomed to behold , all was darkness
and silence. He paused a moment—an indeGeriba-
ble sensation of cold crept over his frame ; and fear,
like a paral ysis, invaded his heart. At length he
exclaimed , "Susan , Susan , my dear !
'' There was
no rep ly ; he stepped further into the room ; he re-
peated her name yet louder ; all was still. He
groped his way to the fire place ; on the mantle-shelf
he found a box of lueife r matches , obtained a li ght ,
and li ghted a candle. He now beheld Susan , with
her hand resting on the table , seated in her usual
place. Ho approached and took her hand . 0 hea-
vens ! its icy coldness ! lie flung himself on his
knees on the floor ,and looked up into her face ; there
was a sweet , placid smile upon the li ps, for a forg iv-
ing, gentle sp irit , had passed from them ,but the eyes
were fixed and filmed ; Susan was dead—had been
dead some hou^s. The distracted man rushed down
stairs , alarmed all the inmates of the, house as he
passed ; a medical man was soon present , and the
chamber in which that young creature had almost
lived and died alone , was thronged by a crowd , any
one of whom ,insp ired by a better social system , would
willin g l y have sustained her to a longer life ,or cheered
the brief time that had been allotted. AH were
horror struck , and one heart struck ; particularl y
when the child , awakened by the tumult , scrambled
out of his little bed , and rushed for protection to his
lifeless mother. Not even that voice , eloquent as it
had ever been to her , could waken her again ! The
surgeon declared that her death had been sudden ,
and from natural cause , but that it was a case which
demanded an inquest .
An inquest was held. Among the evidence pro-
duced was a singularl y affectin g 'memorial ; it was
the little jo urnal which Susan had for some time
kept , like the poor dungeon prisoner who daily
notches a stick that he may be able to number the
monotonous day's of his captivity. " The angel of
death had arrested her hand just as it had feebl y
traced the following words :
" It wil l not be long now , my child , my poor little
Phili p. lie who calls away your mother will care
for you ! Phili p Morris , my husband , my dear hus-
band , I wish you were beside me now. You have
been good , and kind , and generous , and I was not
the wife you should have had. Be a kind father to
our child when I am gone. You will—yes , surel y,
you will take another wife. That which you never
gave to me, give to her—your society, your counsel.
If she has been untaug ht , teach her ; at least do not
leave her to continual loneliness. You never knew
it , and therefore cannot tell how sad the long dull
hours—"
As the reading of this little paper proceede ,d ,Phi-
li p Morris struck his heart as if he soug ht to crush
|t within his breast. That heart had not been fash-
ioned- (or severity or unkindness ; on the contrary
much that was mild and generous ming led in its
ormation , but the second nature , induced by habit ,
had mcrusted his ori ginal feelings and faculties ; he
had grown ,ip to regard women" as the mere ma-
chines of domestic life , with neither necessity nor
capabilit y for hi gher things , and whic h , to "spirits
masculine ,' he deemed so essential that he made
much sacrifices to secure cultivation for himself .—
Too late , conviction had dawned upon him , but it
came accompanied by a contrition that attended him
throug h the. remainder of his life ; and if,at any mo-
ment he felt the promptin gs of self-concentrated sat-
isfaction , which the self-taught and isolated man ,
(unable to compare himself with the more gifted and
more endowed .) is apt to do, he thoug hts of Susan
and felt humbled ; he thoug ht of her , and looked
around him with a desire to partici pate , not appro-
priate , the feast that has been furnished for all.
[From the Boston Herald.]
The following communication was sent to us
through the city post office. The letter is signed by
a person 's name , acc ompanied with a request that it
should be kept secret.
Boston, 24th January, 1850.
Dear Sir—Thoug h dark and mysterious as do ap-
pear the accusations against Dr. Webster , and thoug h
such circumstances are linked together in an almost
perfect chain , yet there are several links wanting,
and which never can be satisfactoril y filled up.—
These, and other facts, will render all judicial pro-
ceedings vain and impotent , and Dr. Webster will
be at large as soon as his trial is ended. And this is
but fair, since a part of the chain is imperfect. Those
who have any fear for the welfare of Webster , may
make their minds easy, for not one hair of his head
will fall from the indictment that has been found
against him.
From the secrecy that has been used in the case,
I could not as yet learn the names of all the par-
ties who have been summoned us witnesses , but
there is one man who lives in Charles street , near a
certain church , who knows more about Dr. Park-
man 's murder than any other man in the city of
Boston. If this man has been summoned he can
clear up a good deal of mystery, if disposed to do so,
but if he has not been known , or has not been sum-
moned , the chain of evidence will not be perfect.
This man in Chailes street , called on Dr. Park-
man , or rather saw him the day before his murder ,
and pretended to lend the Doctor $1000 out for
twelve months ; the Doctor refused to take the
money, as was expected, but a proposal was made, to
meet the Doctor the next day on a matter touching
a moitgage , at a particular place. The Doctor went
the next day as agreed upon , and upon entering in-
to a certain apartment , to the Doctor 's astonishment
he found two other persons there , but the Doctor
never left that apar tment alive. He was put on the
man 's wagon , who lives in Charles street , and con-
veyed to the Medical Hospital , and there mutilated
in the manner alread y known. The reason of no
blood being found in the College is' thus accounted
for, and the chain of evidence has hence, been ren-
dered imperfect. It would be right if this matter
was properl y known.
Yours, very truly, .
De. Parkman positively seen after the
PEHIOO OP HIS ALLEGED MURDER. —We learn
that Mr. Wildes , who resides in Franklin place , is
prepared to swear *hat he saw and spoke to Dr.
Parkman , about four o'clock on the afternoon of
Nov . 23, the day of his disappearance. lie met the
Doctor in Franklin street , near the corner of Wash-
ington , and is satisfied as to the date by the fact that
a friend of his who resides in East Boston , and who
visited him recentl y, also happened to meet Dr. P.
in School street , near the same hour ; and on com-
paring dates , found them exactl y to correspond with
a period two hours and a half subsequent to the
hour on which the fatal traged y is said to have oc-
curred. ' It will be recollected that Dr. P. is said to
have entered the Medical College at half past one
o'clock p. M. on the 23d of November , and that he
never came out.
In corroboration of the above we learn that the
lad y of Mr. Step hen Rhodes, lias just had broug ht
to her mind the fact , that she also met Dr. P. on the
afternoon of the 23d of November , in Washington
street , in the vicinity of the spot where Mr. Wildes
asserts that he saw and spoke to him. Mrs. Rhodes
is satisfied regarding the day, from the circum-
stance that she had a few moments previous to
meeting Dr. Parkman , purchased a dress from a cer-
tain store , and on examination of the entry on the
books of the firm it has been discovered that it was
on the identical day of his disappearance , she had
the bundle under her arm , when she met Dr. P.—
She conversed with the Doctor a few minutes.
It is difficult to reconcile all the conflictin g state-
ments relative to this mysterious affair ; but in the
absence of official authority, we think we are justifi-
ed in giving publicity to such matters as may come
to our knowled ge from reliable , soure'
est The above
is of that character.
Gen. Jackson's f i r s t appearance in Con-
g ress.—When Mr. Gallatin was a member of Con-
gress in 179G ,Tennosee was admitted as a State into
the Union , and sent her first member to Washing-
ton. One day when in his seat in the House , Mr.
Gallatin noticed a tall , lank , uncouth looking indi-
vidual ,with long locks ofliair hang ing over his brows
and face , while a queue hung down his back , tied in
an eel-skin. The dress of this individual was singu-
lar—his manner and deportment that of a back-
woodsman. The appearance of so singular a char-
acter on the floor of the House of Representatives
naturall y attracted attention , and a member at his
side asked who it whs. Mr. Gallatin replied that it
was the member from the new State. "Well ,'' said
his friend , ''he seems just the right soit of chap one
might expect from such an uncivilized reg ion as
Tennessee." The individual in question was An-
drew Jackson.—[Bartlett 's Reminiscences.
Cooking Cranberries.—To each quart of ber-
ries , very shortl y after the cooking of them is com-
menced , add a teaspoonfu l of saleratus. This will
so much neutralize the acideferous juice which they
contain , as to make, it necessary to use onl y one
fourth part as much sugar as would have been requi-
site, had they been cooked without saleratu?.
[Miehagan Farmer.
When you have anything to do, go ahead and do
it-
Tlie Mystery rendered still more mys
terious.
Congress.
In the United States Senate , on the 15th ult., on
motion , by Mr. Bradbury, the Senate proceeded to
the considerati on of the following resolution , submit-
ted by him on the 24lh of December :
Resolved, That the President lie requested to cause
to he laid before the Senate all charges which ho hart
preferred or tiledin any of the departments against in-
dividuals who had been removed from office since the
1th of March last , with a specification of the cases, if
any, in which the officers charged had had opportunity
to be heard , and a statement of the number of remov-
als made under each department.
Mr. Bradbury asked leave to modif y the resolu-
tion by adding the words , "including * the subordi-
natesin the custom houses and other branches of the
public service."
Mr. Mangum—As I consider this resolution , this
is a departure from the practice of the government ,
and is a gross invasion of the constitutional privi-
leges of the President of the United States. I move ,
as a test question , that it be laid upon the table ;
and upon that question I ask the yeas and nays.—
The yeas and nays having been ordered and taken ,
the yeas were 23 ; nays, 29—so the motion was
nesrativod.
Mr. Bradbury expressed his surprise that this
resolution of simp le inquiry should be met by such
opposition. He had not expected it. It sought in-
formation necessary to the action of the Senate in
the discharge of iis duties—information which the
President had rendered necessary to the Senate ,
and which he could give without any infraction of
his constitutional rights. It did not ask for reasons ,
but for facts. The President had stated that he
would , if elected , make no removals except for
cause, and the inference therefore was, that those
persons who have been dismissed from office were
destitute of the qualifications necessary to the dis-
charge of their duties. Mr. Bradbury proceeded
to road extracts from various letters from General
Tay lor , in which he declared that he would never
consent to any partici pation in the schemes of par-
ties , &c. He also read extracts to show the declara-
tions made, by the friends of Gen. Tay lor , relative
to the course he would pursue , if elected. The dis-
tinguisod ex-senator from Kentuck y, (Gov . Critten-
den ,) had said that Gen. Tay lor loathed proscri p-
tion. An equall y distinguished gentleman , now in
the Senate , (Mr. Mangum ,) had said that he de-
nounced the doctrine that "to the victor belongs the
spoils with unutterable scorn."
Mr. Mangum , in his seat—And I am still of the
same opinion.
Mr. Bradbury was glad of it , and he expected him
to show his sincerity by his vote on the pending res-
olution. Another distinguished gentleman , now a
member of the cabinet ,- (Mr. Clayton ,) had said , in
a speech in the Senate , that Gen. Tay lor was "not
pled ged to carry out every measure espoused by the
whi g party, and would not enter the field , or come
into the presidency,as the candidate of either party.
lie had no friends to reward , and no enemies to
punish.'" It was upon such pledges and representa-
tions as these, together with the military popularity
acquired by Gen. Tay lor in the war with Mexico ,
that he was nominated and elected to the presiden-
cy. In his appeals to the people, after having been
elected , and after having taken the solemn oath of
office , in his inaugural address—the chart by which
he proposed to administer the affairs of government
—Ge n. Tay lor said , "that the qualifications of hon-
esty, capacity, and fidelity, would be indispensable
for the bestowal of office , and that the absence of
any of them should be cause for removal." Mr. B.,
would do the President the justice to say, that he
had no doubt but that these numerous pled ges had
been
At No. I, under Quincy Hall Market,
C C. CHAMBERLIN , [ TEW
ENOCH GOVE, \
BOS1M"
tt^-Cape trade respectfull y solitited..=i£[]
iiov H l y
GOULD k ST0WE,
Cap Manufacturer s ,
AND WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
Hats, Caps, Trunks, Valises,Carpet Bags,
Furs, Umbrellas, Buffalo Bobes, &c.
No. 1
8 TJnion-sikeet,
„ . (Next Door to the Lngrango House,)
&
T
E
"!G°DL
M BOSTON.
"RVILLE StOWE. S
Aug 29 tf
ATftiipp
^JlHE Copartnershi p heretofore existing; under the
-*. name of FARNSWORTH & SHAW, is this day
dissolved by mutual consent.
fhe affairs of the firm will be settled by EZRA
'ARNSWORTH , at the Store of Messrs. Thachcr ,
onaw & Co., No. 43 Milk-street , (Morton Block.)
EZRA FARNSWOR TH ,
' Jl>n-1, 1850. GEORGE A. -SHAW.
THE Copartnershi p heretofore existing under the
name of THACHER , BASCOM & CO., is this
"V dissolved by the death of Mr. J. T. S. Bascom.
„ *« affairs of
1
the late firm will be settled by THOS.
v "ACHER , at the Store recently occupied by them ,
*°-« Milk-street.
THOMAS TflACHER , ) Surviving
WM. H. RICHARDS, J Partners.
Jan-1 , 1850.
/THOMAS THACHER has associated with himself
A,GEO- A. SHAW , hue of tho firm of Farnsworth
an? t
W> ailt' w'" continue the Dry Goods Importing
SlU w
b'ng Bllsinoss- "IKier the name of THACHKR.
lat o ^ CO., at the Store recently occupied by the
7.7 n™!of Thacher , Bascom & Co., No. 43 Miik-st.,
Norton Block.) THOMAS THACHER ,
. h GEORGE A. SHAW.
•Jjoston , Jan. 1, 1850. 2m—[Jan. 8.
^
Dentistry.
J^E subscriber , from Boston , respectfully informs
it," ;hc kilies and gentlemen of Barnstahle and vicifi-
toH
a.1ho will remain at Sears's Hotel, Yarmouth
"W • January 25:h, for the purpose' of performing
P»nlUons in CENTAL SURGERY , in all its de-
if>ts. B. FRANKLIN GILMAN , M. D.
Hod . n R- Gir.MAN would respectfull y refer those
lioiiMvi!
.1
'0 operations , to his numerous patrons in Yar-
•
••AM
rt-
Y», Wor k warranted satisfactory; or no pay.
--^»onth Port , Ja n. 1. tf
, 41
^ BOAT BUILDING. Jjj ^
A thii1bscriber respectful ly informs his Cape friends
Here '
v has established himself in Provincetown ,
its branM "'lU CillTy on tlle BOAT BUILDING in all
time at W S' His experience , (having worked for some
"PproY , P°''M will enable him to build tho most
4C_ eu and faithful sty lo of Newport Boats, Dorics ,
TM
tipon t]° .w'10 favor him with their custom , may depend
Ker . " eu work being done in the most thorough man-
All orders promptly attended to.
tro... t REUBEN F. ADAMS.
---^^fo^own
^
Dec. 19. 4m
¦
ll ."ED this day, ano ther lot of those pri me
jarfa*
,
"1
"1 Boots> llnd for sale at A- 1'EBCIVAL'S.
\JV'1JGES and Lemons, Figs and Nuts of all
K>na9,for sale at A. PERCIVAL'S. jan 22