raison of the sarrow and grief brought on me back. O! the Lord be good to your sowl, Martin Moran !"

"Why, please your honour," said Gordon, "you must na b'leeve a' this woman tells you. It's fac' as deeth, I b'leeve she's daft: sometimes she's a guid, kindly body; but, ma conscience! at ither times she's the vera deil wi' her tongue."

Mrs. Moran.-"Won't your honour hear me? Don't listen to that sootherin rogue: he'd coax the birds off the bushes, so he would. Wasn't it his sweet talk-tellin' me he was a Scotch nobleman, and that he only wanted money to put him in possession of the family estate, when he'd make me a happy woman-wasn't it such palaverin as that ruined me kracter? O! the Lord be good to your sowl, Martin Moran !"

Recorder. "Well, it would appear as if this case were destined to be as tedious as a suit in Chancery. Can you tell me (addressing Mr. Gordon) the facts-mind I say the facts of this case?"

"Wi' the greatest pleesure, your honour," said Gordon, pulling out his horn snuff-bob, priming his nose with a portion of its contents, and presenting the titillating powder very courteously to the Recorder, "Mrs. Mooraan," he continued, “is a widow leedy."

Mrs. Moran. "O! the Lord be good to yer sowl, Martin Moran !"

Police Officer." Silence, Madam."

Mr. Gordon." Weel, as I was sayin', ye ken she's a widow leedy, and I agreed wi' her to teach her eeldest son the rudiments of a classical education and the prooper pronoonciation o' the English language; Maartin is the boy's name

"

Mrs. Moran.-Yis, he was called afther me darlin', deadand gone, first husband. O! the Lord be good to yer sowl,

Martin Moran."

Recorder."Keep that woman silent."

Mr. Gordon.-Weel, as I was relaatin', I was to have my board and lodgin' for instructin' the boy; but I found he had nae the genius for learnin', so I told Mrs. Mooraan, as a coonscientious mon, that I thought o' brakin' off the agreement."

Mrs. Moran. "There it is, yer honour-there it is! Doesn't the decaver admit himself that he bruck off the match? Can't I shue him now for a brache o' promise. If-O! the Lord be good to yer sowl, Martin Moran !"

Mr. Gordon. "There noo, your honour sees the wooman's intellect is disturbed. Why, your honour, I ne'er spoke o' mar

A FIGHT ABOUT THE FASHIONS.

55

riage to her in a' my life, for I have got as bonnie a wife and five as beautiful bairns at home in Scotland as you would see from Land's-End to John o' Groats."

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Moran, in a shriek of surprise"a wife and five childer in Scotland! O! the Lord be good to yer sowl in glory, Martin Moran!"

Here Mrs. M. swooned off in true theatrical style, and was carried out of the court. The Recorder told Mr. Gordon he was dismissed; that if Mrs. Moran thought fit to sue him for a breach of promise of marriage, she was at perfect liberty to do so; though, as a friend, he would advise her to adopt a different course, and say no more about it.

A FIGHT ABOUT THE FASHIONS. "'Tis all the fashion, the fashion they say,

'Tis the whim of a moment and lives but a day."

MEN are not more the slaves of their passions than women are of their fashions, and the old adage is literally true, that a woman would rather be out of the world than out of the fashion. There were two pale, bilious, interesting looking young ladies up before Recorder Baldwin yesterday, each of whom was ardent if not eloquent, in detailing her wrongs. The name of one of them was Jane Jones, and that of the other Eliza Spriggins. Both of them wore their hair in ringletswore short bonnets which covered a part of the head but no part of the face, and net-work gloves which covered the hands, but no part of the fingers. When either spoke, she shook her head with such vehemence that her ringlets got into the most disturbed confusion, and she looked like the heroine of a melo-drama.

"I'll let you know, Miss Jones," said the amiable Miss Spriggins I'll let you know you can't offend a lady in her own house that lives by her needle, and han't got no natural protector-I'll let you know that law is law in New Orleans." "Yes, and I'll let you know," said the equally interesting Miss Jones, "that fashions is fashions in New Orleans, and that you don't know nothing about them only what you get from the Ladies' Magazine-that you are not to spoil a lady's silk dress, and afterwards give a lady impudence."

"What is the cause of this noise?" said the Recorder. "Miss Jones is," said Eliza Spriggins.

"Your honour will find, when you hears the case," said Jane Jones, "that I'm the agrieved party."

"Well, let us hear what you have got to say," said the Recorder.

"Well, this here young woman, you see, sir, says she's a dressmaker, but I believe she is nothing more than a tailoress. I told her I was going to get a silk dress made with tight sleeves, in the Elssler fashion: she said she could give it any kind of a cut, but she has given it no kind of a cut; and she cut me with her scissors when I spoke to her about spoiling my dress. Instead of making the sleeves tight they are the old fashioned bishop sleeves; and instead of putting in the Elssler buttons, she has substituted hooks and eyes."

Eliza Spriggins said, though the complainant's story seemed 'fine as silk,' there was not a word of truth in it. When she brought home the dress to Miss Jones it fitted her to a T,she seemed much pleased with it; and it was only when she, Eliza, asked for payment that she heard any complaints, or was told about the Elssler buttons and the tight sleeves.

The Recorder said he did not sit there to decide on the female fashions. If either of the fair complainants had an information to lodge for a breach of the peace, he was prepared to receive it.

Miss Jones didn't think it was lady-like to make oath in court; and Miss Spriggins didn't want to take 'no oath,' she only wanted the sum due her for making the gown.

The Recorder dismissed the case, telling her to apply to one of the city court judges for redress.

Miss S. pulled her veil down off her little bonnet and over her pale face; she shook her head and her ringlets at the same time, and said she was determined to have justice.

TURKEY AND GREASE,

OR DOMESTIC ECONOMY EXEMPLIFIED IN THE PREPARATION OF GOMBO.

A CASE Came before one of our associate city court judges a few days since, in the decision of which gourmands, gomboeaters, epicures, and every body are interested. The plaintiff in this instance was Municipality No. Two, through its organ,

TURKEY AND grease.

57

the commissary of the Poydras street market: the defendant was a dark eyed Italian, with a scowl on his countenance like that which played-no, which sullenly brooded-over the features of the captain of the noted Forty Thieves. His name -another proof that there is nothing in a name-his name is Romeo, but as unlike the gallant, captivating, romantic Romeo, who wooed and won the gentle Juliet, the heir and hope of Capulet's patrician house, is he, as a burnt pine-tree stump is unlike the tall and graceful palm-as a mud pool is unlike the sparkling, limpid rivulet. The charge against Romeooh, that one with so fair a name ever peddled fowl: it seemeth to the Shakspearian ear "most foul and unnatural”—but the charge against him, we were about to say, was, that he sold stale turkeys, which it was hinted were stolen, and that he did it-exposed his stale turkeys-contrary to the ordinance in that case made and provided.

The difficulty which presented itself in the trial seemed to be, to determine what was a stale turkey, according to the meaning and intent of the statute. The point was a nice one, and we are not sure that an appeal does not lie in the case.

The commissary brought forward witnesses-men of unimpeachable veracity-who had seen, felt and nosed the turkeys in the market. Their object was to establish the fact that the turkeys died and were not killed, or, as an Irish witness expressed it, that they died before they were killed. One witness, who showed a deep research and most familiar knowledge in the diagnosis of diseases of fowls in general and turkeys in particular, went on to show that the lean and attenuated state of the turkeys must have proceeded from an affection of the heart; they were western turkeys, he said, and western turkeys were never known to thrive when they come south—a circumstance which he attributed to that love for the place of one's nativity which operates similarly on the Swiss and the turkeys. Although the testimony strongly favoured the presumption that the turkeys paid the debt of nature before it was extorted from them by violent means, the fact was not clearly established; and in this state was the case when Romeo was called on for his defence. Romeo muttered something in the language in which Dante sung, and making certain pantomimic signs, he pointed to a mercurial little Frenchman who stood near him; his gestures seemed to say, "Here is one who will tell you all about it.”

Jean Duval, Romeo's principal witness, was called forward,

and, like the dead turkeys, he was not encumbered with any superabundant or superfluous flesh.

"What do you know about these turkeys, Mr. Duval ?” said the judge.

Jean. I know all de ting 'bout dem."

Judge. "Let us hear what it is, then?"

6

Jean.-"Vel, you sees, monsieur Judge, I keeps what you calls one fus rate, one gran' restaurat. I keeps de turkeys boil, de turkeys roas', de turkeys fricassee, de turkeys gombo, de turkeys ebery way. Romeo be my marchand. I say, 'Romeo, you bring me turkey to boil, eh?" and he says, oui,' and bring him; and I say, 'Romeo, you bring turkey for roas'-fine fat fellow, eh? and he says 'oui,' and he bring him and I says, 'Romeo, you brings me two turkeys to-day for de gombo-no fat, but smell strong, eh?" and he says 'oui,' and he brought me dem vera two turkeys."

Judge." Then am I to understand that these two turkeys were brought to market by your order and for your special use?"

Jean.-"Certainement, monsieur Judge: you see dey be de vera bes' for make de dark, de real Parisian flavour gombo. Wid de turkey what's got de real strong smell you want none but half pepper, half salt, half onion, half garlic: it be all nat'ral seasoned itself."

The judge said he had no doubt but there was great culinary economy in buying a demi-decomposed turkey and converting it into gombo, but it was contrary to the Municipal ordinance to expose them for sale in the public market, and he would therefore fine Romeo for the act $15, which he did.

Romeo paid the money, but looked as if he would rather kill the judge than a turkey; the Frenchman shrugged his shoulders, and exclaimed "Mon Dieu!" and the commissary looked as important as if some great constitutional question had been decided in his favour.

AN ENTHUSIASTIC PHRENOLOGIST.

there

AMONG the prisoners in the Recorder's box yesterday, was a short, shabby, sharp-nosed man. His coat was snuff colour, and there was neither hair nor hat on his head. He wore large green glasses, and seemed not to reflect for a mo