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Serious and earnest as was the work of our railroad, it was made the pretext for many a practical joke and arrant fraud. In the north part of Trumbull county, Ohio, lived an ancient agent named Bartlett, having in his employ a newly married man named DeWitt, a rollocking kind of a fellow, and well calculated to personate a son of Ham, or a daughter as well. DeWitt conspired with his wife and some of the female members of the old gentleman’s family to have a little fun at Mr. Bartlett’s expense. Some thrown off apparel of Mrs. Bartlett was procured from the garret, and, properly blackened, he was attired in a grotesque manner.

Just at evening a decrepid wench applied for admission at Mr. Bartlett’s door. The women appeared very much frightened and were about shutting the door in her face, when the old gentleman, hearing the negro dialect came to the rescue. Soon the wanderer was comfortably seated, and to Mr. Bartlett’s inquiry as to where she was from replied, “Oh Lor’, Massa, I’se from ol’ Virginny an’ I’se boun’ for Canady, and Massa Sutlifft, he tells me I mus’ cum heah, but de white missus scare at dis ol’ black face.”

“O well, never mind that, they are all right now.”

“Bress de Lor’ for dat.”

Speaking to his wife, Mr. Bartlett directed some supper be prepared before he should send her on.

“O no, Massa, I’se been done and eat supper dis bressed day.”

“Well, then, we’ll arrange to send you on soon, but come and see my grandson,” a lad lying sick in the other part of the room, saying which he arose and took the hand of the dame and led her to the bedside, and laying his hand across her stooped shoulders, began to speak tenderly of the little sufferer.

The risibilities of the counterfeit Dinah were now at their utmost tension and she contrived to place a foot heavily upon the caudal appendage of the great house dog lying near. There was a sudden bound of the brute, accompanied by a most unearthly howl, and away darted the decrepid fugitive, shrieking, “O Lor’ de houn’, de houn’.”

It was in vain the philanthropic old agent called after her, that there was no danger; on she sped until an opportunity offered to restore herself to Japhetic hue and male attire.

Mr. Bartlett long upbraided the female portion of his household for want of humanity on that occasion, but was allowed to die in blissful ignorance of the ruse played upon him, and DeWitt confessed that the ultimate fun derived therefrom scarcely compensated for the annoyance of the old gentleman and the trouble of removing the cork.