--,
J. A. Chandler, Clerk of the Court, a man of middle age or beyond, two
or three stage people, and, nearby, a negro, whom they call "the
Doctor," a crafty-looking fellow, one of whose occupations is nameless.
In presence of this goodly company, a man of a depressed, neglected air,
a soft, simple-looking fellow, with an anxious expression, in a
laborer's dress, approached and inquired for Mr. Barker. Mine host being
gone to Portland, the stranger was directed to the bar-keeper, who stood
at the door. The man asked where he should find one Mary Ann Russell,--a
question which excited general and hardly-suppressed mirth; for the said
Mary Ann is one of a knot of women who were routed on Sunday evening by
Barker and a constable. The man was told that the black fellow would
give him all the information he wanted. The black fellow asked,--

"Do you want to see her?"

Others of the by-standers or by-sitters put various questions as to the
nature of the man's business with Mary Ann. One asked,--

"Is she your daughter?"

"Why, a little nearer than that, I calkilate," said the poor devil.

Here the mirth was increased, it being evident that the woman was his
wife. The man seemed too simple and obtuse to comprehend the ridicule of
his situation, or to be rendered very miserable by it. Nevertheless, he
made some touching points.

"A man generally places some little dependence on his wife," said he,
"whether she's good or not."

He meant, probably, that he rests some affection on her. He told us that
she had behaved well, till committed to jail for striking a child; and I
believe he was absent from home at the time, and had not seen her since.
And now he was in search of her, intending, doubtless, to do his best to
get her out of her troubles, and then to take her back to his home. Some
advised him not to look after her; others recommended him to pay "the
Doctor" aforesaid for guiding him to her; which finally "the Doctor"
did, in consideration of a treat; and the fellow went off, having heard
little but gibes, and not one word of sympathy! I would like to have
witnessed his meeting with his wife.

There was a moral picturesqueness in the contrasts of the scene,--a man
moved as deeply as his nature would admit, in the midst of hardened,
gibing spectators, heartless towards him. It is worth thinking over and
studying out. He seemed rather hurt and pricked by the jests thrown at
him, yet bore it patiently, and sometimes al