MONEY DIGGING

Once on a time a certain man was found, Who dreampt of pots of money in his ground.

If General Report is a man of truth, and his assertions to be relied upon, there are at the present day and in our own vicinity, many who are not making hay while the sun shines, but making haste to be rich, by digging in the bowels of the earth and in the caverns of Camel's Rump for shining guineas and rusty dollars, supposed to have been deposited there by some miserly fellows of a former generation at a period anterior to the existence of Banks, unless it be banks of snow. For this purpose, we are told, the very natives, old sooth-sayers, and astrologers, with pick axes, bog hoes and mineral rods, have been vigorously at work, until old Boreas has given them a blast and forced them into winter quarters, from whence it is supposed they will sally out in the spring, with a fair prospect of getting an abundance of—"labor for their pains."

Now the main difficulty in the way of unsuccessful money diggers is this—they do not understand the secret—they neither dig at the right hour of the day, nor in the right place—nor do they make use of the genuine mineral rod. No reasonable man doubts the fact that inexhaustible treasures lie hid in the earth; but they were deposited there at a more remote period and by a more bountiful hand than the misters of the fifteenth century. For the information of all future fortune-makers and money diggers, we will reveal the grand secret, imparted to us by neighbors Careful and Successful, who have been digging for money for many years, as the old lady heaped coals of fire upon the heads of her enemies, shovel-ful after shovel-ful. The secret lies altogether in this—don't dig too deep. The lucky house is early in the morning, when the dew is on. The right place may be found on almost every upland or interval farm in the country by carefully observing those sure and never-failing signs of money in the earth, invariably indicated by the nature of the soul and the thirsty growth of a fine forest of sugar maple, red beech, black birch and the stately hemlock.

And now for the genuine mineral rod. On this point the greatest of man and the gravest of money diggers have heretofore disagreed. While all united in the sentiment that it should be made of genuine metal, lest it point to the wrong places, one contended that the shape and construction of the rod should be straight, like an IRON BAR,—another believed it would be better to add a lip at the end of the straight rod, to resemble a HOE—a third guessed it would be more likely to point at the ready-rhino, by adding to the lip a nose like a PLOUGH—a fourth verily thought that teeth should be inserted like a HARROW—a fifth had a notion that the handle should be of wood, with two short arms of curved steel in the end, like a PITCH-FORK—sixthly and lastly came forward neighbors Careful and Successful, who had been long in the practice of digging money, and absolutely declared, "to their own certain knowledge," that the right place was the very bottom—not of the ocean to be sure—but at the very bottom of the —manure heap—and that the only genuine mineral rod that would direct invariably to the iron chest of dollars, had neither lip like a hoe, nose like a plough, teeth like a harrow, nor brains like a monkey—but looked, O horrible! it looked—just like DUNG FORK.

'Tis done—the long agony is over—the secret is revealed—and now the ways and means of digging money are so plainly pointed out, no happy son of Adam, who owes the Printer, can for a moment hesitate what to do.—With smiling countenances and grateful hearts, our generous patrons will no doubt flock to our office with the fruits and the compliments of the season, most sincerely wishing us, as we do them, a HAPPY NEW YEAR.