JERRY GUTTRIDGE:
OR AN IDLER'S NATURE CHANGED: A TRUE TALE OF 'THE REFORMATION.'
BY THE AUTHOR OF 'THE TRESPASSER IN MAINE.'
Oh, for 'the good old days of Adam and Eve!' when vagabond idlers were not; or the good old days of the pilgrim fathers of New-England, when they were suitably rewarded! That they could not bide those days, there is extant the following testimony. In the early court records of that portion of the old Bay State called the District of Maine, in the year 1645, we have the following entry of a presentment by a grand jury:
'We present Jerry Guttridge for an idle person, and not providing for his family, and for giving reproachful language to Mr. Nat. Frier, when he reproved him for his idleness.
'The court, for his offence, adjudges the delinquent to have twenty lashes on his back, and to bring security to the court, to be of better behaviour, in providing for his family.'
The whole history of this affair, thus faintly shadowed forth in these few lines, has recently come to light, and is now for the first time published, for the benefit of the world, as hereafter followeth,
'What shall we have for dinner, Mr. Guttridge?' said the wife of Jerry Guttridge, in a sad, desponding tone, as her husband came into their log hovel, from a neighboring grog-shop, about twelve o'clock on a hot July day.
'O, pick up something,' said Jerry, 'and I wish you would be spry and get it ready, for I'm hungry now, and I want to go back to the shop; for Sam Willard and Seth Harmon are coming over, by an' by, to swap horses, and they 'll want me to ride 'em. Come, stir round; I can’t wait.'
'We have n.t got any thing at all in the house to eat,' said Mrs. Guttridge. 'What shall I get?'
'Well, cook something,' said Jerry; 'no matter what it is.'
'But, Mr. Guttridge, we have n't got the least thing in the house to cook.'
'Well, well, pick up something,' said Jerry, rather snappishly, 'for I'm in a hurry.'
'I can't make victuals out of nothing,' said the wife; 'if you 'll only bring any thing in the world into the house to cook, I 'll cook it. But I tell you, we have n't got a mouthful of meat in the house, nor a mouthful of bread, nor a speck of meal; and the last potatoes we had in the house, we ate for breakfast; and you know we didn't have more than half enough for breakfast, neither.'
'Well, what have you been doing all this forenoon,' said Jerry, 'that you have n't picked up something? Why didn't you go over to Mr. Whitman's, and borrow some meal?'
'Because,' said Mrs. Guttridge, 'we 've borrowed meal there three times, that is n't returned yet; and I was ashamed to go again, till that
