The Hillsborough Recorder

From the New York American.

DANDY TRICKS

We understand that a pleasant farce was played off, not long ago, upon the good people of a certain village, within a few miles of the capitol at Albany.

A young gentleman (a dandy of course, and perhaps a cousin german of the Carlisle music-master) arrived in the village, and enquired for his relations. They were made known to him, and he expressed much pleasure in the recognition. The relationship was something remote; but on their part, they became more and more interested. In accents of woe gradually brightened by rays of consolation, he informed them that his father (who was but little blest by Plutus, so long as he resided in Rensselaer county) had gone over to Ireland—accumulated a fortune of more than $100,000—at a suitable time had died, and left it all to this, his hopeful son. Their longitude of face diminished on hearing the tale, as its latitude increased. An unusual prominence of the eye became apparent, and pleasure lit a smile upon the grave and care-worn countenance. The cordiality of his reception was no longer mingled with reluctance or distrust. Nor was it limited by consanguinity; it spread with his spreading merit. The doors of hospitality are thrown open, for who would close them against forty thousand pounds? The father's sternness is softened, and the mother's caution soothed to rest, by the fair inheritance. The maiden's harness is drawn more closely, her eye glistens as it meets his languishing gaze, and she sweetly smiles the signal of welcome; for what heart is proof against forty thousand pounds in cash? It is true that he has light hair and blue eyes—but so has Mr. Clay. He is beardless—so is John Randolph; is tall and slender—but so is Doctor K——; of course, he is a beauty!

Beauty and wealth! who can withstand it?

He attends a ball, and wears his hat. The managers, with as much caution as if they were addressing the Grand Vizier, breathe a suggestion of its impropriety. He modestly tells them in reply—'when you are as rich as I am, you may wear your hat too.'

A lawyer in W—— has an elegant chain with about nine seals, and other fashionable appendages, to his watch. He is employed to buy up mortgages for the young heir, who in the mean time, admires the trinkets; buys them at a good round price: and agrees to pay, as a gentleman should—when convenient.

He casts his eye upon a large brick store, and is about to commence merchandise. A keen old wiseacre hires it from him, in order to induce him to receive his son as partner. It is done. A clerk, too, is wanted. A young man is in good regular employment; but better offers induce him to leave his patron; and he is engaged by the man of wealth.

Generosity, however trifling in amount, is always highly valued, if the hand that bestows it is rich. Our adventurer bows with complaisance, and promises with liberality. He is ready to patronise all who look to him for support, and, with no small adroitness, contrives to lay those under obligation, from whom he purposes to derive contributions. Accordingly, after measuring out his kindness to his numerous friends, he buys a great coat of one, a surtout of another, and a dress coat of a third—not because he wants but because he fancies them; exchanges a silver watch for a gold one, and borrows a quantum sufficit of money—only because he happens to be out of change! Having thus replenished his wardrobe and his purse, and rioted a month or two upon the fat of the land, he is ready for his departure to draw the dividends due upon the stocks, and to purchase his goods. But that no malicious wight may raise a suspicion to his disadvantage, he solicits two of his relations, a tinner and a tanner, to attend him to N.Y. They comply and the trio arrive in this city: but here, alas! the weird $40,000 pounds suddenly disappear!—whether an envious wit has obscured him from their sight or a malignant demon has spirited him away—no one can tell. Nox atra cum vultu umbra.

And now the tinner and tanner bend their weary way to their native village. The dry maid deplores the profligacy of the age; the young maiden unbraces her corset;—sly boots pays rent for a vacant store, and the tea-table is supplied with a fruitful theme for many a month to come.