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 presented to the 
 
 LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIF.GO 
 
 by 
 FRIENDS OF 11 IF. LIBRARY 
 
 MR. JOHN C. HO? 
 
 donor
 
 /
 
 FUN-JOTTINGS.
 
 FUN-JOTTINGS; 
 
 OB, 
 
 LAUGHS I HAVE TAKEN A PEN TO, 
 
 BY 
 
 N. PARKER WILLIS 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 
 1853.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 
 
 CHAKLES SCK1BNEK, 
 
 In tbe Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern Dis 
 trict of New York.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 WE do not expect the world to receive our smiles with 
 the instant sympathy and trust which we expect for our 
 tears. A smile may pardonably be thought a caprice of 
 one's own. We write, therefore, with correspondent 
 carelessness or. digressiveness, upon incidents that, in 
 passing, have merely amused us quite prepared to find 
 that they are not so amusing (at second-hand) to others. 
 
 It would be startling to the reader, sometimes, to know 
 Low much' truth there is in " fiction." Things that could 
 never else be told, are hidden in story. And every cir 
 cumstance of the narrative may be pure invention, 
 while the secret is still told the soul's thirst for reveal 
 ing it, fully satisfied. After reading a novel once, for 
 the story, it is often a charming, leisure task to go over 
 it thoughtfully, again, picking out the hidden thread of 
 feeling or experience, upon which its pearls are strung. 
 To value or merit in the sketches which follow, the 
 author makes no definite pretension. They record, under
 
 Vi PREFACE. 
 
 more or less of disguise, turns of event or of character, 
 which have amused him. In re-compiling his past 
 writings into volumes, these lighter ones have been laid 
 aside, and they are now trusted to take their chance by 
 themselves, appealing to whatever indulgence may be in 
 store, in the reader's mind, for a working-pen at play. 
 
 IDLEWILD, July, 1853.
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 PAQR 
 
 LARKS IN VACATION, . . . .11 
 
 MEENA DIMITY ; OR, WHY MR. BROWN CRASH TOOK THE 
 
 TOUR, ... '. ' . . 45 
 
 MRS. PASSABLE TROTT, . . . .55 
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF " IONE S " . . 62 
 
 THE GHOST BALL AT CONGRESS HALL, . . 72 
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE, . . 84 
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET, . . . . 97 
 
 NORA MEHIDY ; OR, THE STRANGE ROAD TO THE HEART OF 
 
 MR. HYPOLET LEATHERS, . . . 114 
 
 THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS, . . .123 
 
 TOM FANE AND I, .... 135
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGV 
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN, . . .152 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF NYSCHRIEM, AND THE HANDSOME 
 
 AKTIST, . . . . . 166 
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS, . . .116 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRY ; OR THE DARING LOVER, 190 
 
 THE FEMALE WARD, . . . .201 
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER, . . . 220 
 
 MABEL WYNNE, . . . . . 230 
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA, . . . 244 
 
 MY ONE ADVENTURE AS A BRIGAND, . . 294 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY, .... 303 
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK," .. . 314 
 
 MRS. FLIMSON, . . . . .326 
 
 FROM SARATOGA. 
 
 To THE JULIA OF SOME YEARS AGO, . . 329 
 
 To Miss VIOLET MABY, AT SARATOGA, . . 333 
 
 ANOTHER LETTER FROM THE SAME GENTLEMAN, . 337 
 
 CINNA BEVERLEY, ESQ., TO ALEXIS YON PUHL, . 340
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOl 
 
 SOCIAL DISTINCTIONS IN ENGLAND, . . 344 
 
 Miss ALBINA McLusn, .... 352 
 THE NEED OF Two LOVES, . . . 357
 
 FUN JOTTINGS 
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DRIVING STANHOPE PRO TEM. 
 
 IN the edge of a June evening in the summer vacation of 1827, 
 I was set down by the coach at the gate of my friend Horace Van 
 Pelt's paternal mansion a large, old-fashioned, comfortable 
 Dutch house, clinging to the side of one of the most romantic 
 dells on the North river. In the absence of his whole family on 
 the summer excursion to the falls and lakes (taken by almost 
 every " well-to-do" citizen of the United States), Horace was 
 emperor of the long-descended, and as progressively enriched 
 domain of one of the earliest Dutch settlers a brief authority 
 which he exercised more particularly over an extensive stud, and 
 bins number one and two. 
 
 The west was piled with gold castles, breaking up the horizon 
 with their burnished pinnacles and turrets, the fragrant damp-
 
 12 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ness of the thunder-shower that had followed the heat of noon 
 was in the air, and in a low room, whose floor opened out so exactly 
 upon the shaven sward, that a hlind man would not have known 
 when he passed from the heavily-piled carpet to the grass, I 
 found Horace sitting over his olives and claret, having waited 
 dinner for me till five (long beyond *the latest American hour)* 
 and in despair of my arrival, having dined without me. The old 
 black cook was too happy to vary her vocation by getting a 
 second dinner ; and when I had appeased my appetite, and over 
 taken my friend in his claret, we sat with the moonlight breaking 
 across a vine at our feet, and coffee worthy of a filagree cup in 
 the Bezestien, and debated, amid a true embarras des richesses, 
 our plans for the next week's amusement. 
 
 The seven days wore on, merrily at first, but each succeeding 
 one growing less merry than the last. By the fifth eve of my 
 sojourn, we had exhausted variety. All sorts of headaches and 
 megrims in the morning, all sorts of birds, beasts, and fishes, for 
 dinner, all sorts of accidents in all sorts of vehicles, left us on the 
 seventh day out of sorts altogether. We were two discontented 
 Rasselases in the Happy Valley. Rejoicing as Ve were in vaca 
 tion, it .would have been a relief to have had a recitation to read 
 up, or a prayer-bell to mark the time. Two idle sophomores in 
 a rambling, lonely old* mansion, were, we discovered, a very 
 insufficient dramatis persona for the scene. 
 
 It was Saturday night. A violent clap of thunder had inter 
 rupted some daring theory of Van Pelt's on the rising of cham 
 pagne-bubbles, and there we sat, mum and melancholy, two sated 
 Sybarites, silent an hour by the clock. The mahogany was bare 
 between us. Any number of glasses and bottles stood in their 
 lees about the table ; the thrice-fished juice of an olive-dish and
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 13 
 
 a solitary cigar in a silver case had been thrust aside in a warm 
 argument, and, in his father's sacred gout-chair, buried to the 
 eyes in his loosened cravat, one leg on the table, and one some 
 where in the neighborhood of my own, sat Van Pelt, the eidolon 
 of exhausted amusement. 
 
 " Phil !" said he, starting suddenly to an erect position, " a 
 thought strikes me !" 
 
 I dropped the claret-cork, from which I was at the moment 
 trying to efface the " Margaux" brand, and sat in silent expecta 
 tion. I had thought his brains as well evaporated as the last 
 bottle of champagne. 
 
 He rested his elbows on the table, and set his chin between his 
 two palms. 
 
 " I'll resign the keys of this mournful old den to the butler, and 
 we'll go to Saratoga for a week. What say ?" 
 
 " It would be a reprieve from death by inanition," I answered, 
 '' but, as the rhetorical professor would phrase it, amplify your 
 meaning, young gentleman." 
 
 " Thus : To-morrow is Sunday. "We will sleep till Monday 
 morning to purge our brains of these cloudy vapors, and restore 
 the freshness of our complexions. If a fair day, you shall start 
 alone in the stanhope, and on Monday night sleep in classic 
 quarters at Titus's in Troy." 
 
 " And you," I interrupted, rather astonished at his arrangement 
 for one. 
 
 Horace laid his hand on his pocket with a look of embarrassed 
 care. 
 
 " I will overtake you with the bay colts in the drosky, but 1 
 rnu^t first go to Albany. The circulating medium " 
 
 " I understand."
 
 14 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 II. 
 
 We met on Monday morning in the breakfast-room in mutua* 
 spirits. The sun was two hours high, the birds in the trees werq 
 wild with the beauty and elasticity of the day, the dew glistened 
 on every bough, and the whole scene, over river and hill, was a 
 heaven of natural delight. As we finished our breakfast, the 
 light spattering of a horse's feet up the avenue, and the airy 
 whirl of quick-following wheels, announced the stanhope. It was 
 in beautiful order, and what would have been termed on any pave 
 in the world a tasteful turn-out. Light cream-colorod body, black 
 wheels and shafts, drab lining edged with green, dead-black harness, 
 light as that on the panthers of Bacchus it was the last style of 
 thing you would have looked for at the " stoup" of a Dutch home 
 stead. And Tempest ! I think I see him now ! his small inqui 
 sitive ears, arched neck, eager eye, and fine, thin nostril his 
 dainty feet flung out with the grace of a flaunted riband his 
 true and majestic action and his spirited champ of the bit, nib 
 bling at the tight rein with the exciting pull of a hooked trout 
 how evenly he drew ! - how insensibly the compact stanhope, just 
 touching his iron-gray tail, bowled along on the road after him ! 
 
 Horace was behind with the drosky and black boy, and with a 
 parting nod at the gate, I turned northward, and Tempest took 
 the road in beautiful style. I do not remember to have been ever 
 so elated. I was always of the- Cyrenaic philosophy that " happi 
 ness is motion," and the bland vitality of the air had refined my 
 senses. The delightful feel of the reins thrilled me to the 
 shoulder. Driving is like any other appetite, dependant for the 
 delicacy of its enjoyment on the system, and a day's temperate 
 abstinence, long sleep, and the glorions perfection of the morning,
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 15 
 
 had put my nerves " in condition." I felt the air as I rushed 
 through. The power of the horse was added to my consciousness 
 of enjoyment, and if you can imagine a centaur with a harness 
 and stanhope added to his living body, I felt the triple enjoyment 
 of animal exercise which would then be his. 
 
 It is delightful driving on the Hudson. The road is very fair 
 beneath your wheels, the river courses away under the bold shore 
 with the majesty inseparable from its mighty flood, and the 
 constant change of outline in its banks, gives you, as you proceed, 
 a constant variety of pictures, from the loveliest to the most 
 sublime. The eagle's nest above you at one moment, a sunny 
 and fertile farm below you at the next rocks, trees, and water 
 falls, wedded and clustered as, it seems to me, they are nowhere 
 else done so picturesquely it is a noble river, the Hudson ! 
 And every few minutes, while you gaze down upon the broad 
 waters spreading from hill to hill like a round lake, a gnyly- 
 painted steamer with her fringed and white awnings and streaming 
 flag, shoots out as if from a sudden cleft in the rock, and draws 
 across it her track of foam. 
 
 Well I bowled along. Ten o'clock brought me to a snug 
 Dutch tavern, where I sponged Tempest's mouth and nostrils, 
 lunched, and was stared at by the natives, and continuing my 
 journey, at one I loosed rein and dashed into the pretty village 
 
 of , Tempest in a foam, and himself and his extempore 
 
 master creating a great sensation in a crowd of people, who stood 
 in the shade of the verandah of the hotel, as if that asylum for 
 the weary traveller had been a shop for the sale of gentlemen in 
 shirt-sleeves. 
 
 Tempest was taken round to the " barn," and I ordered rather 
 an elaborate dinner, designing still to go on some ten miles in the
 
 16 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 cool of the evening, and having, of course, some mortal hours 
 upon my hands. The cook had probably never heard of more 
 than three dishes in her life, but those three were garnished with 
 all manner of herbs, and sent up in the best china as a warranty 
 for an unusual bill, and what with coffee, a small glass of new 
 rum as an apology for a chasse cafe, and a nap in a straight- 
 backed chair, I killed the enemy to my satisfaction till the i 
 shadows of the poplars lengthened across the barnyard. 
 
 I was awoke by Tempest, prancing round to the door in un- 
 diminished spirits ; and as I had begun the day en grand seigaeitJ^ 
 I did not object to the bill, which considerably exceeded the oufc- 
 side of my calculation, but giving the landlord a twenty-dollar 
 note received the change unquestioned, doubled the usual fee to 
 the ostler, and let Tempest off with a bend forward which served 
 at the same time for a gracious bow to the spectators. So 
 remarkable a coxcomb had probably not been seen in the village 
 since the passing of Cornwallis's army. 
 
 The day was still hot, and as I got into the open country, I 
 drew rein and paced quietly up hill and down, picking the road 
 delicately, and in a humor of thoughtful contentment, trying my 
 skill in keeping the edges of the green sod as it leaned in and out 
 from the walls and ditches. With the long whip I now and then 
 touched the wing of a sulphur butterfly hovering over a pool, and 
 now and then I stopped and gathered a violet from the unsunned 
 edge of tho wood. 
 
 I had proceeded three or four miles in this way, when I was 
 overtaken by three stout fellows, galloping at speed, who rode 
 past and faced round with a peremptory order to me to stop. A 
 formidable pitchfork in the hand of each horseman left me no 
 alternative. I made up my mind immediately to be robbed
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 17 
 
 quietly of my own personals, but to show fight, if necessary, for 
 Tempest and the stanhope. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said I, coaxing my impatient horse, who 
 had been rather excited by the clatter of hoofs behind him, " what 
 is the meaning of this ?" 
 
 Before I could get an answer, one of the fellows had dismount 
 ed and given his bridle to another, and coming round to the left 
 eide, he sprang suddenly into the stanhope. I received him as 
 he rose with a well-placed thrust of my heel which sent him back 
 into the road, and with a chirrup to Tempest, I dashed through 
 the phalanx, and took the road at a top speed. The short lash 
 once waved round the small ears before me, there was no stopping 
 in a hurry, and away sped the gallant gray, and fast behind 
 followed my friends in their short sleeves, all in a lathering 
 gallop. A couple of miles was the work of no time, Tempest 
 kying his legs to it as if the stanhope had been a cobweb at his 
 heels ; but at the end of that distance there came a sharp descent 
 to a mill-stream, and I just remember an unavoidable milestone 
 and a jerk over a wall, and the next minute, it seemed to me, I 
 was in the room where I had dined, with my hands tied, and a 
 hundred people about me. My cool white waistcoat was matted 
 with mud, and my left temple was, by the glass opposite me, both 
 bloody and begrimed. 
 
 The opening of my eyes was a signal for a closer gathering 
 around me, and between exhaustion and the close air I was half 
 suffocated. I was soon made to understand that I was a prisoner, 
 and that the three white-frocked highwaymen, as I took them to 
 be, were among the spectators. On a polite application to the 
 landlord, who, I found out, was a justice of the peace as well, I was 
 informed that he had made out my mittimus as a counterfeiter,
 
 18 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 and that the spurious note I had passed upon him for my dinner 
 was safe in his possession ! He pointed at the same time to a 
 placard newly stuck against the wall, offering a reward for the 
 apprehension of a notorious practiser of my supposed craft, to the 
 description of whose person I answered, to the satisfaction of all 
 present. 
 
 Quite too indignant to remonstrate, I seated myself in the chair 
 considerately offered me by the waiter, and listening to the whis 
 pers of the persons who were still permitted to throng the room, 
 I discovered, what might have struck me before, that the initials 
 on the panel of the stanhope and the handle of the whip had been 
 compared with the card pasted in the bottom of my hat, and the 
 want of correspondence was taken as decided corroboration. It 
 was remarked also by a bystander that I was quite too much of 
 a dash for an honest man, and that he had suspected me from 
 first seeing me drive into the village ! I was sufficiently humbled 
 by this time to make an inward vow never again to take airs 
 upon myself if I escaped the county jail. 
 
 The justice meanwhile had made out ray orders, and a horse 
 and cart had been provided to take me to the next town. I 
 endeavored to get speech of his worship as I was marched out of 
 the inn parlor, but the crowd pressed close upon my heels and 
 the dignitary-landlord seemed anxious to rid his house of me. I 
 'had no papers, and no proofs of my character, and assertion went 
 for nothing. Besides, I was muddy, and my hat was broken in 
 on one side, proofs of villany which appeal to the commonest 
 understanding. 
 
 I begged for a little straw in the bottom of the cart, and had 
 made myself as comfortable as my two rustic constables thought 
 fitting for a culprit, when the vehicle was quickly ordered from
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 19 
 
 the door to make way for a carriage coming at a dashing pace up 
 the road. It was Van Pelt in his drosky. 
 
 Horace was well known on the road, and the stanhope had 
 already been recognized as his. By this time it was deep in the 
 twilight, and though he was instantly known by the landlord, he 
 might be excused for not so readily identifying the person of his 
 friend in the damaged gentleman in the straw. 
 
 " Ay, ay ! I see you don't know him," said the landlord, white 
 Van Pelt surveyed me rather coldly; " on with him, constables.! 
 he would have us believe you knew him, sir ! Walk in, Mr. Vau 
 Pelt ! Ostler, look to Mr. Van Pelt's horses ! Walk in, sir !" 
 
 " Stop !" I cried out in a voice of thunder, seeing that Horace 
 really had not looked at me. " Van Pelt ! stop, I say !" 
 
 The driver of the cart seemed more impressed by the energy 
 of my cries than my friends the constables, and pulled up his 
 horse. Some one in the crowd cried out that I should have a 
 hearing or he would " wallup the comitatus," and the justice, 
 called back by this expression of an opinion from the sovereign 
 people, requested his new guest to look at the prisoner. 
 
 I was preparing to have nly hands untied, yet feeling so 
 indignant at Van Pelt for not having recognized me that I would 
 not look at him, when, to my surprise, the horse started off once 
 more, and looking back, I saw my friend patting the neck of his 
 near horse, evidently not having thought it worth his while to 
 take any notice of the justice's observation. Choking with rage, 
 I flung myself down upon the straw, and jolted on without further 
 remonstrance to the county town. 
 
 I had been incarcerated an hour, when Van Pelt's voice, 
 half angry with the turnkey and half ready to burst into a laugh, 
 resounded outside. He had not heard a word spoken by the
 
 20 FUN. JOTTINGS. 
 
 officious landlord, till after the cart had been some time gone. 
 Even then, believing it to be a cock-and-bull story, he had 
 quietly dined, and it was only on going into the yard to see after 
 his horses that he recognized the debris of his stanhope. 
 
 The landlord's apologies, when we returned to the inn, were 
 more amusing to Van Pelt than consolatory to Philip Slingsby. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 SARATOGA SPRINGS. 
 
 IT was about seven o'clock of a hot evening when Van Pelt's 
 exhausted horses toiled out from the Pine Forest, and stood, fet 
 lock deep in sand, on the brow of the small hill overlooking the 
 mushroom village of Saratoga. One or two straggling horsemen 
 were returning late from their afternoon ride, and looked at us, 
 as they passed on their fresher'hacks, with the curiosity which 
 attaches to new-comers in a watering-place ; here and there a 
 genuine invalid, who had come to the waters for life, not for 
 pleasure, took advantage of the coolness of the hour and crept 
 down the footpath to the Spring ; and as Horace encouraged his 
 flagging cattle into a trot to bring up gallantly at the door of 
 " Congress Hall," the great bell of that vast caravanserai 
 resounded through the dusty air, and by the shuffling of a thou 
 sand feet, audible as we approached, we knew that the fashion 
 able world of Saratoga were rushing down, en masse, " to tea." 
 
 Having driven through a sand-cloud for the preceding three
 
 LAEKS IN VACATION. 21 
 
 hours, and, to say nothing of myself, Van Pelt being a man, 
 who, in his character as the most considerable beau of the 
 University, calculated his first impression, at was not thought 
 advisable to encounter, uncleansed, the tide of fashion at that 
 moment streaming through the hall. We drove round to the 
 side-door, and gained our pigeon-hole quarters under cover of the 
 back-staircase- 
 
 The bachelors' wing of Congress Hall is a long, unsightly, 
 wooden barrack, divided into chambers six feet by four, 'and of 
 an airiness of partition which enables the occupant to converse 
 with his neighbor three rooms off, with the ease of clerks calling 
 out entries to the leger across the desks of a counting-house. 
 The clatter of knives and plates came up to our ears in a con 
 fused murmur, and Van Pelt having refused to dine at the only 
 inn upon the route, for some reason best known to himself, I 
 commenced the progress of a long toilet with an appetite not 
 rendered patient by the sounds of cheer below. 
 
 I had washed the dust out of my eyes and mouth, and over 
 come with heat and hunger, I knotted a cool cravat loosely round 
 my neck, and sat down in the one chaii 
 
 "Van Pelt!" I shouted. 
 
 " Well, Phil ?" 
 
 " Are you dressed ?" 
 
 " Dressed ! I am as pinguid as a patefoie gras greased to the 
 eyelids in cold cream !" 
 
 I took up the sixpenny glass and looked at my own newly- 
 washed physiognomy. From the temples to the chin it was one 
 unmitigated red burned to a blister with the sun ! I had been 
 obliged to deluge my head like a mop to get out the dust, and not 
 naturally remarkable for my good looks, I could, much worse
 
 22 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 than Van Pelt, afford these startling additions to my disadvanta 
 ges. Hunger is a subtle excuse-finder, however, and, remem 
 bering there were five hundred people in this formidable crowd, 
 and all busy with satisfying their hunger, I trusted to escape 
 observation, and determined to "go down to tea." With the 
 just-named number of guests, it will easily be understood why it 
 is impossible to obtain a meal at Congress Hall out of the stated 
 time and place. 
 
 In a white roundabout, a checked cravat, my hair plastered 
 over my eyes a la Mawworm, and a face like the sign of the 
 " Rising Sun," I stopped at Van Pelt's door. 
 
 " The most hideous figure my eyes ever looked upon !" was his 
 first consolatory observation. 
 
 " Handsome or hideous," I answered, " Pll not starve ! So 
 here goes for some bread and butter !" and leaving him to his 
 " appliances," I descended to the immense hall which serves the 
 
 
 
 comers to Saratoga, for dining, dancing and breakfasting, and in 
 wet weather, between meals, for shuttlecock and promenading. 
 
 Two interminable tables extended down the hall, filled by all 
 the beauty and fashion of the United States. Luckily, I thought, 
 for me, there are distinctions in this republic of dissipation, and 
 the upper end is reserved for those who have servants to turn 
 down the chairs and stand over them. The end of the tables 
 nearest the door, consequently, is occupied by those whose 
 opinion of my appearance is not without appeal, if they trouble 
 their heads about it at all, and I may glide in in my white round 
 about (permitted in this sultry weather), and retrieve exhausted 
 nature in obscurity. 
 
 An empty chair stood between an old gentleman and a very 
 plain young lady, and seeing no remembered faces opposite, I
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 23 
 
 glided to the place, and was soon lost to apprehension in the 
 abysm of a cold pie. The table was covered with meats, berries, 
 bottles of chalybeate water, tea appurtenances, jams, jellies, and 
 radishes, and, but for the absence of the roast, you might have 
 doubted whether the meal was breakfast or dinner, lunch or 
 supper. Happy country ! in which any one of the four meals 
 ui;iy serve a hungry man for all. 
 
 The pigeon-pie stood, at last, well quarried before me, the 
 debris of the excavation heaped upon my plate ; and, appetite 
 appeased, and made bold by my half hour's obscurity, I leaned 
 forward and perused with curious attention the long line of faces 
 on the opposite side of the table, to some of whom, doubtless, I 
 [was to be indebted for the pleasures of the coming fortnight. 
 
 My eyes were fixed on the features of a talkative woman, just 
 above, and I had quite forgotten the fact of my dishabille of com 
 plexion and dress, when two persons entered who made consider 
 able stir among the servants, and eventually were seated directly 
 opposite me. 
 
 " We loitered too long at Barhydt's," said one of the most beau 
 tiful women I had ever seen, as she pulled her chair nearer to the 
 table and looked around her with a glance of disapproval. 
 '* In following her eyes to see who was so happy as to sympathize 
 with such a divine creature even in the loss of a place at table, I 
 met the fixed and astonished gaze of my most intimate friend at 
 the University. 
 
 " EUerton !" 
 
 " Slingsby !" 
 
 Overjoyed at meeting him, I stretched both hands across the 
 
 narrow table, and had shaken his arms nearly off his shoulders, and 
 
 Basked him a dozen questions, before I became conscious that a pair
 
 24 FUN JOTTINGS 
 
 of large wondering eyes were coldly taking an inventory of my 
 person and features. Van Pelt's unflattering exclamation upon 
 my appearance at his door, flashed across my mind like a thun 
 derstroke, and coloring through my burned skin to the temples, I 
 bowed and stammered I know not what, as Ellerton introduced 
 me to his sister ! 
 
 To enter fully into my distress, you should be apprized that a 
 correspondence arising from my long and constant intimacy with 
 Tom Ellerton, had been carried on for a year between me and his 
 sister, and that, being constantly in the habit of yielding to me in 
 matters of taste, he had, I well knew, so exaggerated . to her my 
 personal qualities, dress, and manners, that she could not in any 
 case fail to be disappointed in seeing me. Believing her to be at 
 that moment two thousand miles off in Alabama, and never hav 
 ing hoped for the pleasure of seeing her at all, I had foolishly suf 
 fered this good-natured exaggeration to go on, pleased with seeing 
 the reflex of his praises in her letters, and Heaven knows, little 
 anticipating the disastrous interview upon which my accursed star 
 would precipitate me ! As I went over, mentally, the particulars 
 of my unbecomingness, and saw Miss Ellertoii's eyes resting in 
 quisitively and furtively on the mountain of pigeon bones lifting 
 their well picked pyramid to my chin, I wished myself an ink-fish 
 at the bottom of the sea. 
 
 Three minutes after, I burst into Van Pelt's room, tearing my 
 hair and abusing Tom Ellerton's good nature, and my friend's 
 headless drosky, in alternate breaths. Without disturbing the 
 subsiding blood in his own face by entering into my violence, Ho 
 race coolly asked me what the devil was tho matter ? 
 
 I told him. 
 
 " Lie down here !" said Van Pelt, who was a small Napoleon
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 25 
 
 in such trying extremities 5 " lie down on the bed, and anoint your 
 phiz with this unguent. I see good luck for you in this accident, 
 and you have only to follow my instructions. Phil Slingsby, sun 
 burnt, in a white roundabout, and Phil Slingsby, pale and well 
 dressed, are as different as this potted cream and a dancing cow. 
 You shall see what a little drama I'll work out for you !" 
 
 I laid down on my back, and Horace kindly anointed me from 
 the trachea to the forelock, and from ear to ear. 
 
 " Egad," said he, warming with his study of his proposed plot, 
 as he slid his fore-fingers over the bridge of my nose, " every cir 
 cumstance tells for us. Tall man as you are, you are as short- 
 bodied as a monkey (no offence, Phil!); and when you sit at 
 table, you are rather an under-sized gentleman. I have been as 
 tonished every day these three years, at seeing you rise after dinner 
 in Commons' Hall. A thousand to one, Fanny Ellerton thinks 
 you a stumpy man." 
 
 "And then, Phil," he continued, with a patronizing tone, " you 
 have studied minute philosophy to little purpose if you do not 
 know that the first step in winning a woman to whom you have 
 been overpraised, is to disenchant her at all hazards, on your first 
 interview. You will never rise above the ideal she has formed, 
 and to sink below it gradually, or to remain stationary, is not to 
 thrive in your wooing." 
 
 Leaving me this precocious wisdom to digest, Horace descend 
 ed to the foot of the garden to take a warm bath, and overcome 
 with fatigue, and the recumbent posture, I soon fell asleep and 
 dreamed of the great blue eyes of Fanny Ellerton.
 
 26 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 II. 
 
 The soaring of the octave flute in " Hail Columbia," with which 
 the band was patriotically opening the ball, woke me from the 
 midst of a long apologetic letter to my friend's sister, and I found 
 Van Pelt's black boy Juba waiting patiently at the bed-side with 
 curling-tongs and Cologne-water, ordered to superintend my toilet 
 by his master, who had gone early to the drawing-room to pay 
 his respects to Miss Ellerton. With the cold cream disappeared 
 entirely from my face the uncomfortable redness to which I had 
 been a martyr, and, thanks to my ebony coiffeur, my straight and 
 1 plastered locks soon grew as different to their " umquhile guise" 
 as Hyperion's to a satyr's. Having appeared to the eyes of the 
 lady, in whose favor I hoped to prosper, in red and white (red phiz 
 and white jacket), I trusted that in white and black (black suit 
 and pale viznomy), I should look quite another person. Juba 
 was pleased to show his ivory in a complimentary smile at my 
 transformation, and I descended to the drawing-room, on the best 
 terms with the coxcomb in my bosom. 
 
 Horace met me at the door. 
 
 " Proteus redivivus ."' was his exclamation. " Your new name 
 is Wrongham. You are a gentle senior, instead of a bedeviled 
 sophomore, and your cue is to be poetical. She will never think 
 again of the monster in the white jacket, and I have prepared her 
 for the acquaintance of a new friend, whom I have just described 
 to you. 
 
 I took his arm, and with the courage of a man in a mask, went 
 through another presentation to Miss Ellerton. Her brother had 
 been let into the secret by Van Pelt, and received me with great
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 2t 
 
 ceremony as his college superior ; awl, as there was no other per 
 son at the Springs who knew Mr. Slingsby, Mr. Wrongham was 
 likely to have an undisturbed reign of it. Miss Ellerton looked 
 hard at me for a moment, but the gravity with which I was pre 
 sented and received, dissipated a doubt if one had arisen in her 
 mind, and she took my arm to go to the ball-room, with an undis 
 turbed belief in my assumed name and character. 
 
 I commenced the acquaintance of the fair Alabamian with great 
 advantages. Received as a perfect stranger, I possessed, from 
 long correspondence with her, the most minute knowledge of the 
 springs of her character, and of her favorite reading and pursuits, 
 and, with the little knowledge of the world which she had gained 
 on a plantation, she was not likely to penetrate my game from my 
 playing it too freely. Her confidence was immediately won by the 
 readiness with which I entered into her enthusiasm and anticipated 
 her thoughts ; and before the first quadrille was well over, she had 
 evidently made up her mind that she had never in her life met one 
 who so well " understood her." Oh ! how much women include 
 in that apparently indefinite expression, '' He understands me !" 
 
 The colonnade of Congress Hall is a long promenade laced in 
 with vines and columns, on the same level with the vast ball-room 
 and drawing-room, and (the light of heaven not being taxed at 
 Saratoga) opening at every three steps by a long window into the 
 carpeted floors. When the rooms within are lit in a summer's 
 night, that cool and airy colonnade is thronged by truants from 
 the dance, and collectively by all who have anything to express 
 that is meant for one ear only. The mineral waters of Saratoga 
 are no less celebrated as a soporific for chaperons than as a tonic 
 for the dyspeptic, and while the female Argus dozes in the draw 
 ing-room, the fair lo and her Jupiter (represented in this case, wo
 
 23 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 will say, by Miss Ellerton and myself) range at liberty iu thy fer 
 tile fields of flirtation. 
 
 I had easily put Miss Ellerton in surprised good humor with 
 herself and me during the first quadrille, and with a freedom based 
 pa,rtly upon my certainty of pleasing her, partly on the peculiar 
 manners of the place, I coolly requested that she would continue 
 to dance with me for the rest of the evening. 
 
 " One unhappy quadrille excepted," she replied, with a look 
 meant to be mournful. 
 
 " May I ask with whom r" 
 
 " Oh, he has not asked me yet ; but my brother has bound me 
 over to be civil to hiui a spectre, Mr. Wrongham ! a positive 
 spectre." 
 
 "How denominated r" I inquired, with a forced indifference, 
 for I had a presentiment I should hear my own name. 
 
 " Slingsby Mr. Philip Slingsby Tom's tidus Achates, and a 
 proposed lover of my own. But you don't seem surprised." 
 
 " Surprised ! E-hein ! I know the gentleman I" 
 
 " Then did you ever see such a monster ! Tom told me he 
 was another Hyperion. He half admitted it himself, indeed ; for 
 to tell you a secret, I have corresponded with him a year !" 
 
 " Giddy Miss Fanny Ellerton ! and never saw him !" 
 
 " Never till to-night ! He sat at supper in a white jacket and 
 red face, with a pile of bones upon his plate like an Indian tumu 
 lus." 
 
 " And your brother introduced you ?" 
 
 " Ah, you were at table ! Well, did you ever see in your tra 
 vels, a man so unpleasantly hideous ?" 
 
 " Fanny !" said her brother, coming up at the moment, "Slings-
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 29 
 
 by presents his apologies to you for not joining your cordon to 
 night but he's gone to bed with a head-ache." 
 
 " Indigestion, I dare say," said the young lady. " Never mind, 
 Tom, I'll break my heart when I have leisure. And now, Mr. 
 Wrongham, since the spectre walks not forth to-night, I am yours 
 for a cool hour on tjhe colonnade." 
 
 Vegetation is rapid in Alabama, and love is a weed that thrives 
 in the soil of the tropics. We discoursed of the lost Pleiad and 
 the Berlin bracelets, of the five hundred people about us, and the 
 feasibility of boiling a pot on five hundred a year the unmatri- 
 monial sum total of my paternal allowance. She had as many 
 negroes as I had dollars, I well knew, but it was my cue to seem 
 disinterested. 
 
 " And where do you mean to live, when you marry, Mr. 
 Wrongham ?" asked Miss Ellerton, at the two hundredth turn on 
 the colonnade. 
 
 " Would you like to live in Italy ?" I asked again, as if I had 
 not heard her. 
 
 " Do you mean that as a sequitur to my question, Mr. Wrong- 
 ham :" said she, half stopping in her walk ; and though the sen 
 tence was commenced playfully, dropping her voice at the last 
 word, with something, I thought, very like emotion. 
 
 I drew her off the colonnade to the small garden between the 
 house and the spring, and in a giddy dream of fear and surprise 
 at my own rashness and success, I made, and won from her, a 
 frank avowal of preference. 
 
 Matches have been made more suddenly.
 
 30 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Miss Ellerton sat in the music-room the next morning after 
 breakfast, preventing pauses in a rather interesting conversation, 
 by a running accompaniment upon the guitar. A single gold 
 thread formed a fillet about her temple's, and from beneath it, in 
 clouds of silken ringlets, floated the softest raven hair that ever 
 grew enamored of an ivory shoulder. Hers was a skin that seemed 
 woven of the lily-white, but opaque fibre of the magnolia, yet of 
 that side of its cup turned toward the fading sunset. There is no 
 term in painting, because there is no touch of pencil or color that 
 could express the vanishing and impalpable breath that assured 
 the healthiness of so pale a cheek. She was slight, as all southern 
 women are in America, and of a flexible and luxurious gracefulness 
 equalled by nothing but the movings of a smoke-curl. Without 
 the elastic nerve remarkable in the motions of Taglioni, she appear 
 ed, like her, to be born with a lighter specific gravity than her fel 
 low-creatures. If she had floated away upon some chance breeze 
 you would only have been surprised upon reflection. 
 
 " I am afraid you are too fond of society," said Miss Ellerton, 
 as Juba came in hesitatingly and delivered her a note in the hand 
 writing of an old correspondent. She turned pale on seeing the 
 (superscription, and crushed the note up in her hand, unread. I 
 was not sorry to defer the denouement of my little drama, and tak 
 ing up the remark which she seemed disposed to forget, I referred 
 her to a scrap-book of Van Pelt's, which she had brought home 
 with her, containing some verses of my own, copied (by good luck) 
 in that sentimental sophomore's own hand. 
 
 " Are these yours, really and really ?" she asked, looking pry-
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 3! 
 
 ingly into my face, and showing me my own verses, against which 
 she had already run a pencil lino of approbation. 
 
 " Peccavi /" I answered. " But will you make me in love 
 with my offspring by reading them in your own voice." 
 
 They were some lines written in a balcony at daybreak, while 
 a ball was still going on within, and contained an allusion (which 
 I had quite overlooked) to some one of my ever-changing admira 
 tions. As well as I remember they ran thus : 
 
 Morn in the east ! How coldly fair 
 
 It breaks upon my fevered eye ! 
 How chides the calm and dewy air ! 
 
 How chides the pure and pearly sky ! 
 ^ The stars melt in a brighter fire, 
 
 The dew in sunshine leaves the flowers ; 
 They from their watch, in light retire, 
 While we in sadiiess pass from ours ! 
 
 I turn from the rebuking morn, 
 
 The cold gray sky and fading star, 
 And listen to the harp and horn, 
 
 And see the waltzers near and far : 
 The lamps and flowers are bright as yet, 
 
 And lips beneath more bright than they 
 How can a scene so fair beget 
 
 The mournful thoughts we bear away. 
 
 'Tis something that thou art not here 
 
 Sweet lover of my lightest word ! 
 'Tis something that my mother's tear 
 
 By these forgetful hours is stirred ! 
 But I have long a loiterer been 
 
 In haunts where Joy is said to be ; 
 j$nd though with Peace I enter in, 
 
 The nymph comes never forth with me !
 
 32 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " And who was this * sweet lover,' Mr Wrongham ? I should 
 know, I think, before I go farther with so expeditious a gentle 
 man." 
 
 "As Shelley sa,ys of his ideal mistress 
 
 'I loved oh, no 1 I mean not one of ye, 
 Or any earthly one though ye are fairl' 
 
 It was but an apostrophe to the presentiment of that which I havo 
 found, dear Miss Ellerton ! But will you read that ill-treated 
 billet-doux, and remember that Juba stands with the patience of 
 an ebon statue waiting for an answer ?" 
 
 I knew the contents of the letter, and I watched the expression 
 of her face, as she read it, with no little interest. Her temples 
 flushed, and her delicate lips gradually curled into an expression 
 of anger and scorn, and having finished the perusal of it, she put 
 it into my hand, and asked me if so impertinent a production de 
 served an answer. 
 
 I began to fear that the eclair cisscmcnt would not leave me on 
 the sunny side of the lady's favor, and felt the need of the mo 
 ment's reflection given me while running my eye over the letter. 
 
 " Mr. Slingsby," said I, with the deliberation of an attorney, 
 " has been some time in correspondence with you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And, from his letters and your brother's commendations, you 
 had formed a high opinion of his character, and had expressed as 
 much in your letters r" 
 
 " Yes perhaps I did." 
 
 " And from this paper intimacy he conceives himself sufficiently 
 acquainted with you to request leave to pay his addresses r" 
 
 A dignified bow put a stop to my catechism.
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 33 
 
 " Dear Miss ElTerton !" I said, " this is scarcely a question 
 upon which I ought to speak, but by putting this letter into my 
 hand, you seemed to ask my opinion. ' ; 
 
 " I did I do," said the lovely girl, taking my hand, and look 
 ing appealingly into my face ; " answer it for me ! I have done 
 wrong in encouraging that foolish correspondence, and I owe per 
 haps to this forward man a kinder reply than my first feeling 
 would have dictated. Decide for mo write for me relieve me 
 from the first burden that has lain on my heart since " 
 
 She burst into tears, and my dread of an explanation increased. 
 
 " Will you follow my advice implicitly ?" I asked. , 
 
 " Yes oh, yes ! 
 
 " You promise r" 
 
 " Indeed, indeed !" 
 
 " Well, then, listen to me ! However painful the task, I must 
 tell you that the encouragement you have given Mr. Slingsby, the 
 admiration you have expressed in your letters of his talents and 
 acquirements, and the confidence you have reposed in him res 
 pecting yourself, warrant him in claiming as a right, a fair trial 
 of his attractions. You have known and approved Mr. Slingsby 's 
 mind for years you know me but for a few hours. You saw 
 him under the most unfavorable auspices (for I know him inti 
 mately), and I feel bound in justice to assure you that you will like 
 him much better upon acquaintance." 
 
 Miss Ellerton had gradually drawn herself up during this splen 
 did speech, and sat at last as erect and as cold as Agrippina upon 
 her marble chair. 
 
 " Will you allow me to send Mr. Slingsby to you,'' I continued, 
 
 rising " and suffer him to plead his own cause ?'' 
 2*
 
 34 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " If you will call my brother, Mr. Wrongham, I shall feel 
 obliged to you," said Miss Ellerton. 
 
 I left the room, and hurrying to my chamber, dipped uiy head 
 into a basin of water, and plastered my long locks over my eyes, 
 slipped on a white roundabout, and tied around my neck the iden 
 tical checked cravat in which I had made such an unfavorable 
 impression on the first day of my arrival. Tom Ellerton was 
 soon found, and easily agreed to go before and announce me by 
 my proper name to his sister ; and treading closely on his heels, 
 1 followed to the door of the music-room. 
 
 "Ah, Ellen !" said he, without giving her time for a scene, " I 
 was looking for you. Slingsby is better, and will pay bis respects 
 to you presently. And, I say you will treat him well, Ellen, 
 and and, don't flirt with Wrongham the way you did last night ! 
 Slingsby 's a devilish sight better fellow. Oh, here he is !" 
 
 As I stepped over the threshold, Miss Ellerton gave me just 
 enough of a look to assure herself that it was the identical monster 
 she had seen at the tea-table, and not deigning me another glance, 
 immediately commenced talking violently to her brother on the 
 state of the weather. Tom bore it for a moment or two with 
 remarkable gravity, but at my first attempt to join in the conver 
 sation, my voice was lost in an explosion of laughter which would 
 have been the death of a gentleman with a full habit. 
 
 Indignant and astonished, Miss Ellerton rose to her full height, 
 and slowly turned to me. 
 
 " Peccavi /" said I, crossing my hands on my bosom, and look 
 ing up penitently to her face. 
 
 She ran to me, and seized my hand, but recovered herself in 
 stantly, and the next moment was gone from the room. 
 
 Whether trom wounded pride at having been the subject of a
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 35 
 
 mystification, or whether from that female caprice by which most 
 men suffer at one period or other of their bachelor lives, I know 
 not but I never could bring Miss Ellerton again" to the same in 
 teresting crisis with which she ended her intimacy with Mr. Wrong- 
 ham. She proffered to forgive me, and talked laughingly enough 
 of our old correspondence ; but whenever I grew tender, she re 
 ferred me to the " sweet lover,'' mentioned in my verses in the 
 balcony, and looked around for Van Pelt. That accomplished 
 beau, on observing my discomfiture, began to find out Miss Eller- 
 ton's graces without the aid of his quizzing-glass, and I soon found 
 it necessary to yield the pas altogether. She has since become 
 Mrs. Van Pelt, and when I last heard from her was " as well as 
 could be expected." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MRS. CAPTAIN THOMPSON. 
 
 THE last of August came sweltering in, hot, dusty, and faint, 
 and the most indefatigable belles of Saratoga began to show symp 
 toms of weariness. The stars disappeared gradually from the 
 ball-room ; the barkeeper grew thin under the thickening accounts 
 for lemonades; the fat fellow in the black band, who "vexed" 
 the bassoon, had blown himself from the girth of Falstaff to an 
 " eagle's talon in the waist ;" papas began to be waylaid in tJ^*
 
 G FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 morning walks by young gentlemen with propositions ; and stage 
 coaches that came in with their baggagelesa tails in the air, and 
 the driver's weight pressing the foot-board upon the astonished 
 backs of his wheelers, went out with the trim of a Venetian gon 
 dola the driver's up-hoisted figure answering to the curved pro 
 boscis of that stern-laden craft. 
 
 The vocation of tin-tumblers and water-dippers was gone. The 
 fashionable world (brazen in its general habit) had drank its fill 
 of the ferruginoous waters. Mammas thanked Heaven for the 
 conclusion of the chaperon's summer solstice ; and those who 
 came to bet, and those who came to marry, " made up their 
 books," and walked off (if they had won) with their winnings. 
 
 Having taken a less cordial farewell of Van Pelt than I might 
 have done had not Miss Ellerton been hanging confidingly on his 
 arm, I followed my baggage to the door, where that small epitome 
 of the inheritance of the prince of darkness, an American stage 
 coach, awaited me as its ninth inside passenger. As the last per 
 son picked up, I knew very well the seat to which I was destined, 
 and drawing a final cool breath in the breezy colonnade, I sum 
 moned resolution and abandoned myself to the tender mercies of 
 the driver. 
 
 The " ray of contempt" that " will pierce through the shell of 
 the tortoise," is a shaft from the horn of a new moon in compari 
 son with the beating of an American sun through the top of a 
 stage-coach. This " accommodation " as it is sometimes bitterly 
 called, not being intended to carry outside passengers, has a top 
 as thin as your grandmother's umbrella, black, porous, and crack 
 ed ; and while intended for a protection from the heat, it just suf 
 fices to collect the sun's rays with an incredible power and sultri 
 ness, and exclude the air that makes it sufferable to the beasts of 

 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 37 
 
 the field. Of the nine places inside this " dilly," the four seats 
 in the corners are so far preferable that the occupant has the out 
 er side of his body exempt from a perspirative application of hu 
 man flesh (the thermometer at 100 degrees of Fahrenheit), while, 
 of the three middle places on the three seats, the man in the cen 
 tre of the coach, with no support for his back, yet buried to the 
 chin in men, women, and children, is at the ninth and lowest de 
 gree of human suffering. I left Saratoga in such a state of happi 
 ness as you might suppose for a gentleman, who, besides fulfilling 
 this latter category, had been previously unhappy in his love. 
 
 I was dressed in a white roundabout and trowsers of the same, 
 a straw hat, thread stockings, and pumps, and was so far a bless 
 ing to my neighbors that I looked cool. Directly behind me, oc 
 cupying the middle of the back seat, sat a young woman with a 
 gratis passenger in her lap (who, of course, did not count among 
 the nine), in the shape of a fat and a very hot child of three years 
 of age, whom she called John, Jacky, Johnny, Jocket, Jacket, 
 and the other endearing diminutives of the namesakes of the great 
 apostle. Like the saint who had been selected for his patron, he 
 was a " voice crying in the* wilderness." This little gentleman 
 was exceedingly unpopular with his two neighbors at the windows, 
 aud his incursions upon their legs and shoulders in his occasional 
 forays for fresh air, ended in his being forbidden to look out at 
 either window, and plied largely with gingerbread to content him 
 with the warm lap of his mother. Though I had no eyes in the 
 back of my straw hat, I conceived very well the state in which a 
 compost of soft gingerbread, tears, and perspiration, would soon 
 leave the two unscrupulous hands behind me ; and as the jolts of 
 the coach frequently threw me back upon the knees of his mother, 
 I could not consistently complain of the familiar use made of my
 
 38 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 roundabout and shoulders in Master John'3 constant changes of 
 position. I vowed my jacket to the first river, the moment I 
 could make sure that the soft gingerbread was exhausted but I 
 kept my temper. 
 
 IIow an American Jehu gets his team over ten miles in the 
 hour, through all the variety of sand, ruts, clay-pits, and stump- 
 thickets, is a problem that can only be resolved by riding beside 
 him on the box. In the usual time we arrived at the pretty vil 
 lage of Troy, some thirty miles from Saratoga ; and here, having 
 exchanged my bedaubed jacket for a clean one, I freely forgave 
 little Pickle his freedoms, for I hoped never to set eyes on him 
 again during his natural life. I was going eastward by another 
 coach. 
 
 Having eaten a salad for my dinner, and drank a bottle of iced 
 claret, I stepped forth in my " blanched and lavendered " jacket 
 to take my place in the other coach, trusting Providence not to 
 afflict me twice in the same day with the evil I had just escaped, 
 and feeling, on the whole, reconciled to my troubled dividend of 
 eternity. I got up the steps of the coach with as much alacrity 
 as the state of the thermometer w-ould permit, and was about 
 drawing my legs after me upon the forward seat, when a clammy 
 hand caught me unceremoniously by the shirt-collar, and the voice 
 I was just beginning to forget cried out with a chuckle, " Dada /" 
 
 " Madam !'' I said, picking off the gingerbread from my shirt 
 as the coach rolled down the street, " I had hoped that your in 
 fernal child " 
 
 I stopped in the middle of the sentence, for a pair of large blue 
 eyes were looking wonderingly into mine, and for the first time I 
 observed that the mother of this familiar nuisance was one of the
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 39 
 
 prettiest women I had seen since I had become susceptible to the 
 charms of the sex. 
 
 "Are you going to Boston, sir?" she inquired, with a half 
 timid smile, as if, in that case, she appealed to me for protection 
 on the road. 
 
 " Yes, madam !" I answered, taking little Jocket's pasty hand 
 into mine, affectionately, as I returned her hesitating look ; " may 
 I hope for your society so far ?" 
 
 My fresh white waistcoat was soon embossed with a dingy yel 
 low, where my enterprising fellow-passenger had thrust his sticky 
 fist into the pockets, and my sham shirt-bosom was reduced incon- 
 
 r 
 
 tinently to the complexion of a painter's rag after doing a sunset 
 in gamboge. I saw everything, however, through the blue eyes 
 
 of his mother, and was soon on such pleasant terms with Master 
 v 
 John, that, at one of the stopping-places, I inveigled him out of 
 
 the coach and dropped him accidentally into the horse-trough, 
 contriving to scrub him passably clean before he could recover 
 breath enough for an outcry. I had already thrown the residuum 
 of his gingerbread out of the window, so that his familiarities for 
 the rest of the day were, at least, less adhesive. 
 
 We dropped one or two way-passengers at Lebanon, and I was 
 left in the coach with Mrs. Captain and Master John Thompson, 
 in both whose favors I made a progress that (I may as well de 
 pone) considerably restored my spirits laid flat by my unthrift 
 wooing at Saratoga. If a fly hath but alit on my nose when my 
 self-esteem hath been thus at a discount, I have soothed myself 
 with the fancy that it preferred me a drowning vanity will so 
 catch at a straw ! 
 
 As we bowled along through some of the loveliest scenery of 
 Massachusetts, my companion (now become my charge) let me a
 
 40 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 little into her history, and at the same time, by those shades of 
 insinuation of which women so instinctively know the uses, gave 
 me perfectly to comprehend that I might as well economize my 
 tenderness. The father of the riotous young gentleman who had 
 made so free with my Valencia waistcoat and linen roundabouts, 
 had the exclusive copyhold of her affections. He had been three 
 years at sea (I think I said before), and she was hastening to show 
 him the pledge of their affections come into the world since the 
 good brig Dolly made her last clearance from Boston bay. 
 
 I was equally attentive to Mrs. Thompson after this illumina 
 tion, though I was, perhaps, a shade less enamored of the inter 
 esting freedoms of Master John. One's taste for children de 
 pends so much upon one's love for their mothers ! 
 
 It was twelve o'clock at night when the coach rattled in upon 
 the pavements of Boston. Mrs. Thompson had expressed so 
 much impatience during the last few miles, and seemed to shrink 
 so sensitively from being left to herself in a strange city, that I 
 offered my services till she should find herself in better hands, and, 
 as a briefer way of disposing of her, had bribed the coachman, 
 who was in a hurry with the mail, to turn a little out of his way, 
 and leave her at her husband's hotel. 
 
 We drew up with a prodigious clatter, accordingly, at the Marl- 
 borough hotel, where, no coach being expected, the boots and 
 bar-keeper were not immediately forthcoming. After a rap " to 
 wake the dead," I set about assisting the impatient driver in get 
 ting off the lady's trunks and boxes, and they stood in a large 
 pyramid on the sidewalk when the door was opened. A man in 
 his shirt, three parts asleep, held a flaring candle over his head, 
 and looked through the half-opened door.
 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 41 
 
 " Is Captain Thompson up ?" I asked rather brusquely, irritated 
 at the sour visage of the bar-keeper. 
 
 " Captain Thompson, sir !"' 
 
 " Captain Thompson, sir ! !" I repeated my words with a voice 
 that sent him three paces back into the hall. 
 
 " No, sir,'' he said at last, slipping one leg into his trowsers. 
 which had hitherto been under his arm. 
 
 " Then wake him immediately, and tell him Mrs. Thompson 
 is arrived." Here's a husband, thought I, as I heard something 
 between a sob and a complaint issue from the coach-window at 
 the bar-keeper's intelligence. To go to bed when he expected 
 his wife and child, and after three years' separation ! She might 
 as well have made a parenthesis in her constancy ! 
 
 " Have you called the captain ?" I asked, as I set Master John 
 upon the steps, and observed the man still standing with the can 
 dle in his hand, grinning from ear to ear. 
 
 " No, sir," said the man. 
 
 " No !" I thundered, " and what in the devil's name is the rea- 
 eon r" 
 
 " Boots !" he cried out in reply, " show this gentleman ' forty- 
 one.' Them may wake Captain Thompson as likes ! / never 
 heam of no Mrs. Thompson !" 
 
 Rejecting an ungenerous suspicion that flashed across my mind, 
 and informing the bar-keeper en passant, that he was a brute and 
 a donkey, I sprang up the staircase after a boy, and quite out of 
 breath, arrived at a long gallery of bachelors' rooms on the fifth 
 floor. The boy pointed to a door at the end of the gallery, and 
 retreated to the banisters as if to escape the blowing up of a 
 petard. 
 
 Rat-a-tat-tat !
 
 42 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " Come in !" thundered a voice like a hailing trumpet. I took 
 the lamp from the boy, and opened the door. On a narrow bed 
 well tucked up, lay a most formidable looking individual, with a 
 face glowing with carbuncles, a pair of deep-set eyes inflamed and 
 fiery, and hair and eyebrows of glaring red, mixed slightly with 
 gray ; while outside the bed lay a hairy arm, with a fist like the 
 end of the club of Hercules. His head tied loosely in a black 
 silk handkerchief, and on the light-stand stood a tumbler of bran- 
 dy-and-water. 
 
 " What do you want ?" he thundered again, as I stepped over 
 the threshold and lifted my hat, struck speechless for a moment 
 with this unexpected apparition. 
 
 " Have I the pleasure," I asked, in a hesitating voice, " to ad 
 dress Captain Thompson ?" 
 
 " That's my name !" 
 
 " Ah ! then, captain, I have the pleasure to inform you that 
 Mrs. Thompson and little John are arrived. They are at the 
 door at this moment." 
 
 A change in the expression of Captain Thompson's face check 
 ed my information in the middle, and as I took a step backward, 
 he raised himself on his elbow, and looked at me in a way that 
 did not diminish my embarrassment. 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Mr. Milk-and-water," said he, with an 
 emphasis on every word like the descent of a sledge-hammer ; 
 " if you're not out of this room in two seconds with your ' Mrs. 
 Thompson and little John,' I'll slam you through that window, or 
 the devil take me !" 
 
 I reflected as I took another step backward, that if I were 
 thrown down to Mrs. Thompson from a fifth story window I should 
 not be in a state to render her the assistance she required ; and 

 
 LARKS IN VACATION. 43 
 
 remarking with an ill-feigned gayety to Captain Thompson that 
 so decided a measure would not be necessary, I backed expedi- 
 tiously over the threshold. As I was closing his door, I heard 
 the gulp of his brandy-and-water, and the next instant the empty 
 glass whizzed past my retreating head, and was shattered to pieces 
 on the wall behind me. 
 
 I gave the " boots" a cuff for an untimely roar of laughter as 
 I reached the staircase, and descended, very much discomfited and 
 embarrassed, to Mrs. Thompson. My delay had thrown that lady 
 into a very moving state of unhappiuess. Her tears were glisten 
 ing in the light of the street lamp, and Master John was pulling 
 away unheeded at her stomacher and crying as if he would split 
 his diaphragm. What to do ? I would have offered to take her to 
 ni} T paternal roof till the mystery could be cleared up but I had 
 been absent two years, and to arrive at midnight with a woman 
 and'a young child, and such an improbable story I did not think 
 my reputation at home would bear me out. The coachman, too, 
 began to swear and make demonstrations of leaving us in the 
 street, and it was necessary to decide. 
 
 " Shove the baggage inside the coach," I said at last, " and drive 
 on. Don't be unhappy, Mrs. Thompson ! Jocket, stop crying, 
 you villain ! I'll see that you are comfortably disposed of for the 
 night where the coach stops, madam, and to-morrow I'll try a little 
 reason with Captain Thompson." How the devil can she love 
 such ^ volcanic specimen ! I muttered to myself, dodging in 
 stinctively at the bare remembrance of the glass of brandy-and- 
 water. 
 
 The coachman made up for lost time, and we rattled over the 
 pavements at a rate that made Jocket's hullybaloo quite inaudible. 
 As we passed the door of my own home, I wondered what would be
 
 44 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 the impression of my respectable parent,' could he see me whisking 
 by, after midnight, with a rejected woman and her progeny upon 
 my hands ; but smothering the unworthy doubt that re-arose in my 
 mind, touching the legitimacy of Master John, I inwardly vowed 
 that I would see Mrs. Thompson at all risks fairly out of hor 
 imbroglio. 
 
 We pulled up with a noise like the discharge of a load of paving- 
 stones, and I was about saying something both affectionate and con 
 solatory to my weeping charge, when a tall handsome fellow, with a 
 face as brown as a berry, sprang to the coach-door and seized' her 
 in his arms ! A shower of kisses and tender epithets left me not 
 a moment in doubt. There was another Captain Thompson.' 
 
 He had not been able to get rooms at the Marlborough, as he 
 Lad anticipated when he wrote, and presuming that the mail would 
 come first to the post-office, he had waited for her there. 
 
 As I was passing the Marlborough a week or two afterward, I 
 stopped to inquire about Captain Thompson. I found that he was 
 an old West India captain-, who had lived there between his cruises 
 for twenty years more or less, and had generally been supposed a 
 bachelor. He had suddenly gone to sea, the landlord told me, 
 smiling at the same time, as if thereby hung a tale if he chose to 
 tell it. 
 
 " The fact is," said Boniface, when I pushed him a little on the 
 frnbjcct, *' he was sheared off.'' 
 
 " What scared him ?" I asked very innocently. 
 
 "A wife and child from some foreign port !" ho answered laugh 
 ing as if he would burst his waistband, and taking me into the 
 back parlor to tell me the particulars. 

 
 MEENA DIMITY; 
 
 OR, WHY MR. BROWN CRASH TOOK THE TOUR. 
 
 FASHION is arbitrary, we all know. What it was that origin 
 ally gave Sassafras street the right to despise Pepperidge street, 
 the oldest inhabitant of the village of 'Slimford could not positive 
 ly say. The courthouse and jail were in Sassafras street ; but the 
 orthodox church and female seminary were in Pepperidge street. 
 
 Two directors of the Slimford bank lived in Sassafras street 
 two in Pepperidge street. The Dyaper family lived in Sassafras 
 street the Dimity family in Pepperidge street ; and the fathers of 
 the Dyaper girls and the Dimity girls were worth about the same 
 money, and had both made it in the lumber line. There was no 
 difference to speak of in their respective mode of living none in 
 the education of the girls none in the family gravestones or 
 church-pews. Yet, deny it who liked, the Dyapers were the 
 aristocracy of Slimford. 
 
 It may be a prejudice, but I am inclined to think there is 
 always something in a nose. ( I am -about to mention a trifle, 
 but trifles are the beginning of most things, and I would account 
 for the pride paramount of the Dyapers, if it is in any way possi 
 ble.) The most stylish of the Miss Dyapers Harriet Dyaper 
 had a nose like his grace the Duke of Wellington. Neither her
 
 46 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 father nor mother had such a feature ; but there was a foreign 
 umbrella in the family with exactly the same shaped nose on the 
 ivory handle. Old Dyaper had once kept a tavern, and he had 
 taken this umbrella from a stranger for a night's lodging. But 
 that is neither here nor there. To the nose of Harriet Dyaper, 
 resistlessly and instinctively, the Dimity girls had knocked under 
 at school, There was authority for it ; for the American eagle 
 had such a nose, and the Duke of Wellington had such a nose ; 
 and when, to these two warlike instances, was added the nose of 
 Harriet Dyaper, the tripod stood firm. Am I visionary in be 
 lieving that the authority introduced into that village by a fo 
 reigner's umbrella (so unaccountable is fate) gave the dynasty to 
 the Dyapers 1 
 
 I have mentioned but two families one in each of the two 
 principal streets of Slimford. Having a little story to tell, I 
 cannot afford to distract my narrative with unnecessary " asides ; " 
 and I must not only omit all description of the other Sassafrasers 
 and Pepperidgers, but I must leave to your imagination several 
 Miss Dyapers and several Miss Dimitys Harriet Dyaper and 
 Meena Dimity being the two exclusive objects of my hero's Sun 
 day and evening attentions. 
 
 For eleven months in the year, the loves of the ladies of Slim- 
 ford were presided over by indigenous Cupids. Brown Crash and 
 the other boys of the village had the Dyapers and the Dimitys 
 for that respective period to themselves. The remaining month, 
 when their sun of favor was eclipsed, was during the falling of the 
 leaf, when the "drummers" came up to dun. The townish clerks 
 of the drygoods merchants were too much for the provincials. 
 
 Brown Crash knocked under and sulked, owing, as he said, to
 
 MEENA DIMITY. 4t 
 
 D0 J melancholy depression accompanying the fall of tho deciduous 
 
 fetation. But I have not yet introduced you to my hero. 
 
 Brown Crash was the Slimford stage-agent. He was the son of 
 a retired watch-maker, and had been laughed at in his boyhood 
 for what they called, his " airs." He loved, even as a lad, to be 
 at the tavern when the stage came in, and help out the ladies. 
 \\ ith instinctive leisureliness he pulled off his cap as soon after 
 the "whoa-hup"as was necessary (and no sooner), and asked the 
 ladies if they would " alight and take dinner," with a seductive 
 *mile which began, as the landlord said, " to pay." Hence his 
 promotion. At sixteen he was nominated stage-agent, and 
 thenceforward was the most conspicuous man in the village ; for 
 " man" he was, if speech and gait go for anything. 
 
 But we must minister a moment to the reader's inner sense ; for 
 we to not write altogether for Slimford comprehension. Brown 
 Crash had something in his composition " above the vulgar." If 
 men's qualities were mixed like salads, and I were giving a " re 
 cipe for Brown Crashes," in Mrs. Glass's style, I should say his 
 two principal ingredients were a dictionary and a dunghill cock 
 for his language was as ornate as his style of ambulation was 
 deliberate and imposing. What Brown Crash would have been, 
 born Right Honorable, I leave (with the smaller Dyapers and 
 'Dimitys) to the reader's fancy. My object is to show what he 
 was minus patrician nurture and valuation. Words, with Brown 
 Crash, were susceptible of being dirtied by use. He liked a clean 
 towel he preferred an unused phrase. But here stopped his 
 peculiarities. Below the epidermis he was like other men, subject 
 to like tastes and passions. And if he expressed his loves and 
 hates with grandiloquent imagery, they were the honest loves and
 
 48 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 hates of a week-day world no finer nor flimsier for their bedock- 
 ed plumage. 
 
 To use his own phrase, Brown frequented but two ladies in 
 Slimford Miss Harriet Dyaper and Miss Meena Dimity. The 
 first we have described in describing her nose, for her remainder 
 was comparatively inconsiderable. The latter was " a love,'' and 
 of course had nothing peculiar about her. She was a lamp no 
 thing till lighted. She was a mantle nothing,except as Worn by 
 the owner,. She was a mirror blank and unconscious till some 
 thing came to be "reflected. She was anything, loved unloved, 
 nothing ! And' this (it is our opinion after half a life) is the most 
 delicious and adorable variety of woman that has been spared to 
 us from the museum of specimen angels. (A remark of Brown 
 Crash's, by the way, of which he may as well have the credit.) 
 
 Now Mr. Crash had an ambitious weakness for the best society, 
 and he liked to appear intimate with the Dyapers. But'in Meena 
 Dimity,, there was a secret charm which made him wish she was 
 an ever-to-be-handed-out Iady-stage-passengt3r. He could have 
 given her a hand, and brought in her umbrella, and bandbox, all 
 day long. In his hours of pride he thought of the Dyapers. lu 
 his hours of affection of^S. eena Dimity. But the Dyapers looked 
 down upon the Dimitys ; and to- play his card delicately be 
 tween Harriet and Meena, took all the diplomacy of Brown 
 Crash. The uneonscious Meena would walk up Sassafras 
 street when she had his arm, and the scornful Harriet, would 
 be there with her nose over the front gate to sneer at them. 
 He managed as well as he could. He went on light evenings 
 to the Dyapers on dark evenings to the Dimitys. He took 
 town-walks with the Dyapers country walks with the Dim 
 itys. But his acquaintance with the Dyapers hung by the eyelids.
 
 MEENA DIMITY. 49 
 
 Harriet liked him ; for he was the only beau in Slimforcl whose 
 manners were not belittled beside her nose. But her acquaintance 
 with him was a condescension, and he well knew that he could not 
 " hold her by the nose '' if she were offended. Oh no ! Though 
 their "respective progenitors were of no very unequal rank 
 though a horologist and* a "boss lumberman" might abstractly 
 be equals the Dyapers had the power ! Yes they could lift 
 him to themselves, or dash him down to the Dimitys ; and all 
 Slimford would agree, in the latter case, that he^was a " slab" and 
 a ''small potato!" 
 
 But a change came o'er the spirit of Brown Crash's dream ! 
 The drummers were lording it in Slimford, .and Brown, reduced 
 to Meena Dimity (for he was too proud to play~second fiddle to a 
 town dandy), was walking with her on a dark night past the 
 Dyapers. The Dyapers were hanging over the gate, unluckily, 
 and their Pearl-street admirers sitting on the top rail of the fence. 
 . -*" Who is it ?" said a strange voice. 
 
 The reply, sent upward from a scornfully projecting under lip, 
 rebounded in echoes from the tense nose of Miss Dyaper. 
 
 "A Mr. Crash, and a girl from the back street !" 
 
 It was enough. A hot spot on his cheek, a warm rim round 
 his eyes, a pimply pricking in his skin, and it was all over ! Hig 
 vow was made. He coldly bid Meena good night at her father's 
 door, and went home and counted his money. And from that 
 hour, without regard tp sex, he secretly accepted shillings from 
 gratified travellers, and " stood treat " no more. * * 
 
 Saratoga was crowded with the dispersed nuclei of the 
 metropolises. Fashion, wealth, and beauty, were there. Brown 
 Crash was there, on his return from a tour to Niagara and the 
 lakes. 
 
 3
 
 50 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 "' Brown Crash, Esq " was one of the notabilities of Congress 
 Hall. Here and there a dandy " could not quite make him out," 
 but there was evidently something uncommon about him. Tho 
 ladies thought him " of the old school of politeness/' and the 
 politicians thought he had the air of one used to influence in his 
 county. His language was certainly very "choice and peculiar, 
 and his gait was conscious dignity itself. He must have been 
 carefully educated ; yet his manners were popular, and he was 
 particularly courteous on a first introduction. The elegance and 
 ease with which he helped the ladies out of their carriages were 
 particularly remarked, and a shrewd observer said of him, that 
 " that point of high breeding was only acquired by daily habit. 
 He must have been brought up where there were carriages and 
 ladie_s.'' A member of Congress, who expected to run for gover 
 nor, inquired his county, and took wine with him. His name was 
 mentioned by the letter-writers from the springs. Brown Crash 
 was in his perihelion ! 
 
 The season leaned to it's close, and the following paragraph 
 appeared in the New York American : 
 
 "Fashionable Intelligence. The company at the Springs is 
 breaking up. We understand that the Vice-President and 
 Brown Crash, Esq., have already left for their respective residen 
 ces. The latter gentleman, it is understood, has formed a matri 
 monial engagement with a family of wealth and distinction from 
 the south. We trust that these interesting bonds, binding to^e- 
 ther the leading families of the far-divided extremities of our 
 country, may tend to strengthen the tenacity of the great Ameri 
 can Union !" 
 * * * * * * 
 
 It was not surprising that the class in Slimford who knew every-
 
 MEENA DIMITY. 51 
 
 thing the milliners, to wit moralized somewhat bitterly on Mr. 
 Crash's devotion to the Dyapers after his return, and his conse 
 quent slight to Meena Dimity. " If that was the effect of fashion 
 and distinction on the heart, Mr. Crash was welcome to his hon 
 ors ! Let him marry Miss Dyaper, and they wished him much 
 joy of her nose ; but they would never believe that he had not 
 ruthlessly broken the heart of Meena Dimity, and he ought to be 
 ashamed of himself, if there was any shame in such a dandy." 
 
 But the milliners, though powerful people in their own way, 
 could little affect the momentum of Brown Crash's glories. The 
 paragraph from the "American' 7 had been copied into the " Slim- 
 ford Advertiser," and the eyes of Sassafras street and Pepperidge 
 street were alike opened. They had undervalued their indigenous 
 " prophet." They had misinterpreted and misread the stamp of 
 his superiority. He had been obliged to go from them to be re 
 cognized. But he was returned. He was there to have repara 
 tion made justice done. And now, what office would he like, 
 from Assessor to Pathmaster, and would he be good enough to 
 name it before the next town-meeting ? Brown Crash was king of 
 Slimford ! 
 
 And Harriet Dyaper ! The scorn from her lip had gone, like, 
 the blue from a radish ! Notes for " B. Crash, Esq.," showered 
 from Sassafras street bouquets from old Dyaper's front yard 
 glided to him per black boy no end to the endearing attentions, 
 undisguised and unequivocal. Brown Crash and Harriet Dyaper 
 were engaged, if having the front parlor entirely given up to them 
 of an evening meant anything if his being expected every night 
 to tea meant anything if his devoted (though she thought rather 
 cold) attentions meant anything. 
 
 They didrtt mean anything! They all didn't mean any-
 
 52 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 thing ! What does the orthodox minister do, the third Sunday 
 after Brown Crash's return, but read the banns of matrimony 
 between that faithless man and Meena Dimity ! 
 
 But this was not to be endure^. Harriet Dyaper had a cousin 
 who was a" strapper." He was boss of a sawmill in the next 
 county, and he must be sent for. 
 
 He was sent for. 
 * * * * * * * . 
 
 The fight was over. Boss Dyaper had undertaken to flog 
 Brown Crash, but it was a drawn battle for the combatants had 
 been pulled apart by their coat-tails. They stepped into the bar 
 room and stood recovering their breath. The people of Slimford 
 crowded in, and wanted to have the matter talked over. Boss 
 Dyaper bolted out his grievance. 
 
 " Gentlemen !'' said Brown Crash, with one of his irresistible 
 come-to-dinner smiles, " I am culpable, perhaps, in the minutiao 
 of this business justifiable, I trust you will say, in the general 
 scope and tendency. You, all of you, probably, had mothers, and 
 some of you have wives and sisters ; and your ' silver cord' natur 
 ally sympathizes with a worsted woman. But gentlemen, you are 
 republicans ! You, all of you, are the rulers of a country very 
 large indeed ; and yeu are not limited in your views to one woman, 
 nor to a thousand women to one mile nor to a thousand miles. 
 You generalize ! you go for magnificent principles, gentlemen ! 
 You scorn high-and-mightiness, and supercilious aristocracy !" 
 
 " Hurra for Mr. Crash !" cried a stage-driver from the outside. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen ! In what I have done, I have deserved well 
 of a republican country ! True it has been my misfortune to 
 roll my Juggernaut of principle over the sensibilities of that 
 gentleman's respectable female relative. But, gentlemen, she
 
 MEENA DIMITY. 53 
 
 offended, reinidilessly and grossly, one of the sovereign people ! 
 She scorned one of earth's fairest daughters, who lives in a back 
 street ! Gentlemen, you know that pride tripped up Lucifer ! 
 Shall a tiptop angel fall for it, atid a young woman who is nothing 
 particular be left scornfully standing ? Shall Miss Dyaper have 
 more privileges than Lucifer ? I appreciate your indignant 
 negative ! 
 
 " But, gentlemen, I am free to confess, I had also my repub 
 lican private end. You know my early history. You have 
 witnessed my struggles to be respected by my honorable contem 
 poraries. If it be my weakness to be sensitive to the finger of 
 scorn, be it so. You will know how to pardon me. But I will 
 be brief. At a particular crisis of my acquaintance with Miss 
 Dyaper, I found it expedient to transfer my untrammelled ten 
 dernesses to Pepperidge street. My heart had long been in 
 Pepperidge street. But, gentlemen,' to have done it without 
 removing from before my eyes the contumelious finger of the scorn 
 of Sassafras street, was beyond my capabilities of endurance. 
 Injustice to my present ' future,' gentlemen, I felt that I must 
 remove ' sour grapes ' from my escutcheon that I must soar to 
 a point, whence swooping proudly to Meena Dimity, I should 
 pass the Dyapers in descending ! 
 
 (Cheers and murmurs.) 
 
 " Gentlemen and friends ! This world is all a fleeting show. 
 The bell has rung, and I keep you from your suppers. Briefly. 
 I found the means to travel and test the ring of my metal among 
 unprejudiced strangers. I wished to achieve distinction and 
 return to my birthplace ; but for what ? Do me justice, gentle 
 men. Not to lord it in Sassafras street. Not to carry off a 
 Dyaper with triumphant elation ! Not to pounce on your aristo-
 
 54 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 cratic No. 1, and link my destiny with the disdainful Dyapers ! 
 No ! But to choose where I liked, and have the credit of liking 
 it ! To have Slimford believe that if I preferred their No. 2, it 
 was because I liked it better than No. t, Gentlemen, I am a 
 republican ! I may find my congenial spirit among the wealthy 
 I may find it among the humble. But I want the liberty to 
 choose. And I have achieved it, I trust you will permit me the 
 liberty to say. Having been honored by the dignitaries of a 
 metropolis having consorted with a candidate for gubernatorial 
 distinction having been recorded in a public journal as a com 
 panion of the Vice-President of this free and happy country 
 you will believe me when I declare that I prefer Pepperidge 
 street to Sassafras you will credit my sincerity, when, having 
 been approved by the Dyaper's betters, I give them the go-by 
 for the Dimitys ! Gentlemen, I have done." 
 
 The reader will not be surprised to learn that Mr. Brown 
 Crash is now a prominent member of the legislature, and an 
 excessive aristocrat Pepperidge street and very democratic 
 speeches to the contrary notwithstanding.
 
 MRS, PASSABLE TROTT, 
 
 " Je 8uis coininc vous. Je n'aime pas qne lea autrcs soient heureux. 1 ' 
 
 THE temerity with which I hovered on the brink of matrimony 
 when a very young man could only be appreciated by a fatuitous 
 credulity. The number of very fat mothers of very plain families 
 who can point me out to their respective offspring as their once 
 imminent papa, is ludicrously improbable. The truth was that I 
 had a powerful imagination in my early youth, and no " realizing 
 sense." A coral neck-lace, warm from the wearer a shoe with 
 a little round stain in the sole anything flannel a bitten rose 
 bud with the mark of a tooth upon it a rose, a glove, a thimble 
 either of these was agony, ecstasy ! To anything with curls 
 and skirts, and especially if encircled by a sky-blue sash, my 
 heart was as prodigal as a Croton hydrant. Ah me ! 
 
 But, of all my short eternal attachments, Fidelia Balch (since 
 Mrs. P. Trott) was the kindest and fairest. Faithless of course 
 she was, since my name does not begin with a T. but if she did 
 not continue to love me P. Trott or no P. Trott she was 
 shockingly forsworn, as can be proved by several stars, usually 
 considered very attentive listeners. I rather pitied poor Trott 
 for I knew 
 
 " Her heart it was another's,"
 
 56 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 and he was rich and forty-odd. But they seemed to live very 
 harmoniously, and if I availed myself of such lifetle consolations 
 as fell in my way, it was the result of philosophy. I never forgot 
 the faithless Fidelia. 
 
 This is to be a disembowelled narrative, dear reader skipping 
 from the maidenhood of my heroine to her widowhood, fifteen 
 years yet I would have you supply here and there a betweenity. 
 My own sufferings at seeing my adored Fidelia go daily into ano 
 ther man's house and shut the door after her, you can easily con 
 ceive. Though not in the habit of rebelling against human insti 
 tutions, it did seem to me that the marriage ceremony had no 
 business to give old Trott quite so much for his money. But the 
 aggravating part of it was to come ! Mrs. P. Trott grew prettier 
 every day, and of course three hundred and sixty-five noticeable 
 degrees prettier every year ! She seemed incapable of, or not 
 liable to, wear and tear ; and probably old Trott was a man, in 
 doors, of very even behavior. And, it should be said, too, in ex 
 planation, that, as Miss Balch, Fidelia was a shade too fat for her 
 model. She embellished as her dimples grew shallower. Trifle 
 by trifle, like the progress of a statue, the superfluity fell away 
 from nature's original Miss Balch (as designed in Heaven), and 
 when old Passable died (and no one knew what that P. stood for, 
 till it was betrayed by the indiscreet, plate on his coffin) Mrs. 
 Trott, thirty-three years olJ, was at her maximum of beauty. 
 Plump, taper, transparently fair, with an arm like a high-con 
 ditioned Venus, and a neck set on like the swell of a French 
 horn, she was consumedly good-looking. When I saw in the pa 
 per, "Died, Mr. P. Trott," I went out and walked past the 
 house, with overpowering emotions. Thanks to a great many re 
 fusals, I had been faithful ! / could bring her the same heart,
 
 MRS. PASSABLE TROTT. 57 
 
 unused and undamaged, which I had offered her before ! I could 
 geneiously overlook Mr. Trott's temporary occupation (since he 
 had left us his money \) and when her mourning should be over 
 the very day the very hour her first love -should be ready 
 for her, good as new ! 
 
 I have said nothing of any evidences of continued attachment 
 on the part of Mrs. Trott. She was a discreet person and not 
 likely to compromise Mr. P. Trott till she knew the strength of 
 his constitution. But there was one evidence of lingering prefer 
 ence which I built upon like a rock. I had not visited her during 
 these fifteen years. Trott liked me not you can guess why ! 
 But I had a nephew, five years old when Miss Balch was my 
 ' privately engaged," and as like me, that boy, as could be cop 
 ied by nature. He was our unsuspecting messenger of love, go 
 ing to play in old Balch's garden when I was forbidden the house, 
 unconscious of the billet-doux in the pocket of his pinafore ; and 
 to this boy, after our separation, seemed Fidelia to cling. He 
 grew up to a youth of mind and manners, and still she cherished 
 him. He all but lived at old Trott's, petted and made much of 
 her constant companion reading, walking, riding indeed, 
 when home from college, her sole society. Are you surprised 
 that, in all this, there was a tenderness of reminiscence that 
 touched and assured me ? Ah 
 
 " On revient toujours 
 A ses premiers amours !" 
 
 I thought it delicate, and best, to let silence do its work dur 
 ing that year of mourning. I did not whisper even to my nephew 
 Bob the secret of my happiness. I left one card ot condolence 
 3*
 
 58 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 after old Trott's funeral, and lived private, counting the hours 
 The slowest kind of eternity it appeared ! 
 
 The morning never seemed to me to break with so much diffi 
 culty and reluctance as on the anniversary of the demise of Mr. 
 Passable Trott June 2, 1840. Time is a comparative thing, I 
 well know, but the minutes seemed to stick, on that interminable 
 morning. I began to dre*ss for breakfast at four but details are 
 tiresome. Let me assure you that twelve o'clock, A. M., did 
 arrive ! The clocks struck it, and the shadows verified it. 
 
 I could not have borne an accidental " not at home," and I re 
 solved not to run the risk of it. Lovers, besides, are not tied to 
 knockers and ceremony. I bribed the gardener. Fidelia's bou 
 doir, I knew, opened upon the lawn, and it seemed more like love 
 to walk in. She knew I knew Fate" and circumstance knew 
 and had ordained that that morning was to be shoved up, joined 
 on, and dovetailed to our last separation. The time between was 
 to be a blank. Of course she expected me. 
 
 The garden door was ajar as paid for. I entered, traversed 
 the vegetable beds, tripped through the flower-walk, and oh 
 bliss ! the window was open ! I could just see the Egyptian urn 
 on its pedestal of sphinxes, into which I knew (per Bob) she threw 
 all her fading roses. I glided near. I looked in at the window. 
 
 Ah, that picture ! She sat with her back to me her arm 
 that arm of rosy alabaster thrown carelessly over her chair 
 her egg-shell chin resting on her other thumb and forefinger 
 her eyelids sweeping her cheek and a white yes ! a white bow 
 in her hair. And her dress was of snowy lawn white, bridal 
 white ! Adieu, old Passable Trott ! 
 
 I wipod my eyes and looked again. Old Trott's portrait huug 
 on the wall, but that was nothing. Her guitar lay on the table,
 
 MRS PASSABLE TROTT. 59 
 
 and did I see aright? a miniature just beside it ! Perhaps of 
 old Trott taken out foF the last time. Well well ! He was 
 a very respectable man, and had been very kind to her, most 
 likely. 
 
 " Ehem !" said I, stepping over the Bill, " Fidelia !" 
 
 She started and turned, and certainly looked surprised. 
 
 Mr. G !" said she. 
 
 " It is long since we parted !" I said, helping myself to u ^ 
 
 " Quite long !" said Fidelia. 
 
 " So long that you have forgotten the name of G ?" I ask 
 ed, tremulously. 
 
 " Oh no !' J she replied, covering up the miniature on the table 
 by a, careless movement of her scarf. 
 
 " And may I hope that that nauie has not grown distasteful to 
 you ?" I summoned courage to say. 
 
 " N no ! Ido not know that it has, Mr. G !" 
 
 The blood returned to my fainting heart ! I felt as in days 
 of yore. 
 
 " Fidelia ! ; ' said I, " let me not waste the precious moments. 
 You loved me at twenty may I hope that I may stand to you 
 in a nearer relation ! May I venture to think that our family is 
 
 not unworthy of a union with the Balches ? that, as Mrs. G , 
 
 you could be happy ?" 
 
 Fidelia looked hesitated took up the miniature, and clasped 
 it to her breast. 
 
 "Do I understand you rightly, Mr. G !" she tremulously 
 
 exclaimed. " But I think 1 do ! I remember well what you 
 were at twenty ! This picture is like what you were then with 
 differences, it is true, but still like ' Dear picture !" she exclaim 
 ed again, kissing it with rapture.
 
 CO FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 (How could she have got my miniature ? but no matter 
 taken by stealth, I presume. Sweet and eager anticipation !) 
 
 "And Robert has returned from college, then : she said, in 
 quiringly. 
 
 "Not that I know of," said I. 
 
 " Indeed ! then he has written to you !" 
 
 " Not recently !" 
 
 "Ah, poor boy! he anticipated! Well, Mr. G- ! I will 
 
 not affect to be coy where my heart has been so long interested." 
 
 (I stood ready to clasp her to my bosom.) 
 
 "Tell Robert my mourning is over tell him his name " (the 
 
 name of G , of course) "is the music of my life, and that I 
 
 will marry whenever he pleases !" 
 
 A horrid suspicion crossed my mind. 
 
 " Pardon me !" said I ; " whenever he pleases, did you say ? 
 Why, particularly, when /te pleases?" 
 
 u La ! his not being of age is no impediment, I hope !" said 
 Mrs. Trott, with some surprise. " Look at his miniature, Mr. 
 
 G ! It has a boyish look, it's true but so had you at 
 
 twenty !" 
 
 Hope sank within me ! I would have given worlds to be away. 
 The truth was apparent to me perfectly apparent. She loved 
 that boy Bob that child that mere child and meant to marry 
 him ! Yet how could it be possible ! I might be yes I 
 must be, mistaken. Fidelia Balch who was a woman when he 
 was an urchin in petticoats ! she to think of marrying that boy ! 
 I wronged her oh I wronged her! But, worst come to the 
 worst, there was no harm in having it perfectly understood. 
 
 " Pardon me !'' said I, putting on a look as if I expected a 
 shout of laughter for the mere supposition, " I should gather
 
 MRS. PASSABLE TROTT. 61 
 
 (categorically, mind you! only categorically) I should gather 
 from what you said just now (had I been a third person listen 
 ing, that is to say with no knowledge of the parties) I should 
 really have gathered that Bob little Bob was the happy man, 
 and not I ! Now don't laugh at me !" 
 
 " You the happy man ! Oh, Mr. G ! you are joking ! 
 
 Oh no ! pardon me if I have unintentionally misled you but if I 
 
 marry again, Mr. G -, it will be a young man ! ! f In short, 
 
 not to mince the matter, Mr. G , your nephew is to become 
 
 my husband (nothing unforeseen turning up) in the course of the 
 next week ! We shall have the pleasure of seeing you at the 
 wedding, of course ! Oh no ! You ! I should fancy that no 
 
 woman would make two unequal marriages, Mr. G . Good 
 
 morning, Mr. G !" 
 
 I was left alone, and to return as I pleased, by the vegetable 
 garden or the front door. I chose the latter, being somewhat 
 piqued as well as inexpressibly grieved and disappointed. But 
 philosophy came to my aid, and I soon fell into a mood of spe 
 culation. 
 
 "Fidelia is constant!" said I to myself "constant, after all ! 
 She made up her mouth for me at twenty. But I did not stay 
 twenty ! Oh no ! I, unadvisedly, and without preparatively cul 
 tivating her taste for thirty-five, became thirty-five. And now 
 what was she to do ? Her taste was not at all embarked in Pas 
 sable Trott, and it stayed just as it was waiting to be called up 
 and used. She locks it up decently till old Trott dies, and then 
 reproduces what ? Why, just what she locked up a taste for 
 a young man at twenty and just such a young man as she loved 
 when she was twenty ! Bob of course ! Bob is like me Bob 
 is twenty ! Be Bob her husband ! 
 
 But I cannot say I quite like such constancy !
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF "IONE S- 
 
 (SINCE DISCOVERED TO BE MISS JONES.) 
 
 NOT long ago, but before poetry and pin-money were discover 
 ed to be cause and effe.ct, Miss Phebe Jane Jones was one of the 
 most charming contributors to a certain periodical now gone over 
 
 "Lethe's wharf." Her signature was "lone S !" a neat 
 
 anagram, out of which few would have picked the monosyllable 
 engraved upon her father's brass knocker. She wrote mostly in 
 verse ; but her prose, of which you will presently see a specimen 
 or two, was her better vein as being more easily embroidered, 
 and not cramped with the inexorable fetters of rhyme. Miss 
 Jones abandoned authorship before the New Mirror was estab 
 lished, or she would, doubtless, have been one of its paid contri 
 butors as much ("we" flatter ourselves) as could well be said 
 of her abilities. 
 
 The beauty of hectics and hollow chests has been written out 
 of fashion ; so I may venture upon the simple imagery of truth 
 and nature. Miss Jones was as handsome as a prize heifer. 
 She was a compact, plump, wholesome, clean-limbed, beautifully- 
 marked animal, with eyes like inkstands running over, and a 
 mouth that looked, when she smiled, as if it had never been open-
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF "IONE S 63 
 
 ed before, the teeth seemed so fresh and unhandled. Her voice 
 had a tone clear as the ring of a silver dollar ; and her lungs 
 must have been as sound as a pippin, for when she laughed 
 (which she never did unless she was surprised into it, for she lov 
 ed melancholy), it was like the gurgling of a brook over the peb 
 bles. The bran-new people made by Deucalion and Pyrrha, 
 when it cleared up after the flood, were probably in Miss Jones's 
 style. 
 
 But do you suppose that " lone S " cared any thing for 
 
 her good looks ! What value the poor perishing tenement 
 in which nature had chosen to lodge her intellectual and spiritual 
 part ! What care for her covering of clay ! What waste 
 thought on the chain that kept her from the Pleiades, of which, 
 perhaps, she was the lost sister (who knows) ? And, more than 
 all oh gracious ! to be loved for this trumpery-drapery of her 
 immortal essence ! 
 
 Yes infra dig. as it may seem to record such an unworthy 
 trifle the celestial Phebe had the superfluity of an every-day 
 lover. Gideon Flimmins was willing to take her on her outer 
 inventory alone. He loved her cheeks he did not hesitate to 
 admit ! He loved her lips he could not help specifying ! He 
 had been known to name her shoulders ! And, in taking out a 
 thorn for her with a pair of tweezers one day, he had literally 
 exclaimed with rapture that she had a heavenly little pink thumb. 
 
 But of " lone S " he had never spoken a word. No, though 
 
 she read him faithfully every effusion that appeared asked his 
 
 opinion of every separate stanza talked of " lone S " as the 
 
 person on earth she most wished to see (for she kept her literary 
 incog.) Gideon had never alluded to her a second time, and 
 perseveringly, hatefully, atrociously, and with mundane motive
 
 64 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 only, be made industrious love to the outride and visible Phebe ! 
 Well! \Vell! 
 
 Contiguity is something, in love ; and the Flimminses were 
 neighbors of the Joneses. Gideon had another advantage for 
 Ophelia Flimmins, his eldest sister, was Miss Jones's eternally 
 attached friend. To explain this, I must trouble the reader to 
 take notice that there were two streaks in the Flimmins family.' 
 Fat Mrs. Flimmins, the mother (who had been dead a year), was 
 a thorough " man of business," and it was to her downright and 
 upright management of her husband's wholesale and retail hat- 
 lining establishment, that the family owed its prosperity ; for 
 Ileredotus Flimmius, whose name was on the sign, was a flimsy- 
 ish kind of sighing-dying man, and nobody could ever find out 
 what on earth he wanted. Gideon and the two fleshy Miss 
 Flimminses took after their mother, but Ophelia, whose semi- 
 translucent frame was the envy of her faithful Phebe, was, with 
 very trifling exceptions, the perfect model of her sire. She 
 devotedly loved the moon. She had her preferences among the 
 stars of heaven. She abominated the garish sun. And she and 
 Phebe met by night on the sidewalk around their mutual 
 nearest corner deeply veiled to conceal their emotion from the 
 intruding gaze of such stars as they were not acquainted with 
 and there they communed ! 
 
 I never knew, nor have I any the remotest suspicion of the 
 reasoning by which these commingled spirits arrived at the con 
 clusion that there was a want in their delicious union. They 
 might have known, indeed, that the chain of bliss, ever so far 
 extended, breaks off at last with an imperfect link that 
 though mustard and ham may turn two slices of innocent bread 
 into a sandwich, there will still be an uubuttered outside. But
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF " IONE S ." 65 
 
 tliey were young they were sanguine. Phebe, at least, believed 
 that in the regions of space there existed " wandering but not 
 lost" the aching worser half of which she was the " better" 
 some lofty intellect, capable of sounding the unfathomable abysses 
 of hers some male essence, all soul and romance, with whom she 
 could soar finally, arm-in-arm, to their native star, with no 
 changes of any consequence between their earthly and their 
 astral communion. It occurred to her, at last, that a letter ad 
 dressed to him, through her favorite periodical, might possibly 
 reach his eye. The following (which the reader may very likely 
 remember to have seen) appeared in the paper of the following 
 Saturday : 
 
 " To my spirit-husband, greeting : 
 
 " Where art thou, bridegroom of my soul ? Thy lone S 
 
 calls to thee from the aching void of her lonely spirit ! What 
 name bearest thou ? What path walkest thou ? How can I, 
 glow-worm like, lift my wings and show thee my lamp of guiding 
 love ? Thus wing I these words to thy dwelling-place (for thou 
 
 art, perhaps, a subscriber to the M r). Go truants ! 
 
 Rest not till ye meet his eye. 
 
 " But I must speak to thee after the manner of this world. 
 
 " I am a poetess of eighteen summers. Eighteen weary years 
 have I worn this prison-house of flesh, in which, when torn from 
 thee, I was condemned to wander. But my soul is untamed by 
 its cage of darkness ! I remember, and remember only, the lost 
 husband of iny spirit-world. I perform, coldly and scornfully, 
 the unheavenly necessities of this temporary existence ; and from 
 the windows of my prison (black like the glimpses of the mid 
 night heaven they let in) I look out for the coming of my spirit- 
 lord. Lonely ! lonely !
 
 60 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " Thou wouldst know, perhaps, what semblance I bear since 
 my mortal separation from thee. Alas ! the rose, not the lily, 
 reigns upon my cheek ! I would not disappoint thee, though of 
 that there is little fear, for thou lovest for the spirit only. But 
 believe not, because health holds me rudely down, and I seem 
 not fragile and ready to depart believe not, oh bridegroom of 
 my soul ! that I bear willingly my flesHly fetter, or endure with 
 patience the degrading homage to its beauty. For there are 
 soulless worms who think me fair. Ay in the strength and 
 freshness of my corporeal covering, there are those who rejoice ! 
 Oh ! mockery ! mockery ! 
 
 " List to me, Ithuriel (for I must have a name to call thee by, 
 and, till thou breathest thy own seraphic name into my ear, be 
 thou Ithuriel) ! List ! I would meet thee in the darkness only ! 
 Thou shalt not see me with thy mortal eyes ! Penetrate the 
 past, and remember the smoke-curl of wavy lightness in which I 
 floated to thy embrace ! Remember the sunset-cloud to which 
 we retired ; the starry lamps that hung over our slumbers ! And 
 on the softest whisper of our voices let thy thoughts pass to mine ! 
 Speak not aloud ! Murmur ! murmur ! murmur ! 
 
 " Dost thou know, Ithuriel, I would faia prove to thee my 
 freedom from the trammels of this world ! In what chance shape 
 thy accident of clay may be cast, I know not. Ay, and I care 
 not ! I would thou wert a hunchback, Ithuriel ! I would thou 
 wert disguised as a monster, my spirit-husband ! So would I 
 prove to thee my elevation above mortality ! So would I show 
 thee, that in the range of eternity for which we are wedded, a 
 moment's covering darkens thee not that, like a star sailing 
 through a cloud, thy brightness is remembered while it is eclipsed 
 that thy lone would recognize thy voice, be aware of thy
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF " IONE S > 67 
 
 presence, adore thee, as she was celestially wont ay, though 
 thou wdrt imprisoned in the likeness of a reptile ! lone care for 
 mortal beauty ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 " Come to me, Ithuriel ! My heart writhes in its cell for con 
 verse with thee ! I am sick-thoughted ! My spirit wrings its 
 thin fingers to play with thy ethereal hair ! My earthly cheek, 
 though it obstinately refuses to pale, tingles with fever for thy 
 coming. Glide to me in the shadow of eve softly ! softly ! 
 
 " Address * P ' at -the M r office. 
 
 " Thine, " IONE S " 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 There came a letter to "P." 
 
 * ***** 
 
 It was an inky night. The moon was in her private chamber. 
 The stars had drawn over their heads the coverlet of clouds and 
 pretended to sleep. The street lamps heartlessly burned on. 
 
 Twelve struck with " damnable iteration." 
 
 On tiptoe and with beating heart, Phebe Jane left her father's 
 area. Ophelia Flimmins followed her at a little distance, for 
 lone was going to meet her spirit-bridegroom, and receive a 
 renewal of his ante-vital vows ; and she wished her friend, the 
 echo of her soul, to overhear and witness them. For oh if 
 words were anything if the soul could be melted and poured, 
 lava-like, upon " satin post" if there was truth in feelings mag 
 netic and prophetic then was he who had responded to, and 
 
 corresponded with, lone S (she writing to " I," and he to 
 
 " P"), the ideal for whom she had so long sighed the lost half 
 of the whole so mournfully incomplete her soul's missing and 
 once spiritually Siamesed twin ! His sweet letters had echoed 
 every sentiment of her heart. He had agreed with her that
 
 68 1 L:N JOTTINGS. 
 
 outside was nothing that earthly beauty was poor, perishing, 
 pitiful that nothing that could be seen, touched, or described, 
 had anything to do with the spiritually-passionate intercourse to 
 which their respective essences achingly yearned that, unseen, 
 unheard, save in whispers faint as a rose's sigh when languishing 
 at noon, they might meet in communion blissful, superhuman, 
 and satisfactory. 
 
 Yet where fittingly to meet oh agony ! agony ! 
 
 The street-lamps two squares off had been taken up to lay 
 down gas. Ophelia Flimmins had inwardly marked it. Between 
 No. 126 and No. 132, more particularly, the echoing sidewalk 
 was bathed in unfathomable night for there were vacant lots 
 occupied as a repository for used-up omnibuses. At the most 
 lonely point there stood a tree, and, fortunately, this night, in the 
 gutter beneath the tree, stood a newly-disabled 'bus of the Knick 
 erbocker line and (sweet omen !) it was blue ! In this covert 
 could the witnessing Ophelia lie perdu, observing unseen through 
 the open door ; and beneath this tree was to take place the meet-, 
 ing of souls the re-interchange of sky-born vows the immate 
 rial union of Ithurial and lone ! Bliss ! bliss ! exquisite to 
 anguish. 
 
 But oh incontinent vessel Ophelia had blabbed. The two 
 fat Miss Flimminses were in the secret nay, more they were 
 in the omnibus ! Ay deeply in, and portentously silent, they 
 sat, warm and wondering, on either side of the lamp, probably 
 extinguished for ever ! They knew not well what was to be. 
 But whatever sort of thing was a " marriage of soul," and 
 whether " Ithuriel " was body or nobody mortal man or angel 
 in a blue scarf the Miss Flimminses wished to see him. Half 
 an hour before the trysting-tune they had fanned their way thither,
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF "IONE S . 59 
 
 for a thunder-storm was in the air and the night was intolerably 
 close ; and, climbing into the omnibus, they reciprocally loosened 
 each other's upper hook, and with their moistened collars laid 
 starchless in their laps, awaited the opening of the mystery. 
 
 Enter Ophelia, as expected. She laid her thin hand upon the 
 leather string, and, drawing the door after her, leaned out of its 
 open window in breathless suspense and agitation. 
 
 Tone's step was now audible, returning from 132. Slowly she 
 came, but invisibly, for it had grown suddenly pitch-dark ; and 
 only the far-off lamps, up and down the street, served to guide 
 her footsteps. 
 
 But hark ! the sound of a heel ! He came ! They met ! 
 He passed his arm around her ami drew her beneath the tree 
 and with whispers, soft and low, leaned breathing to her ear. He 
 was tall. He was in a cloak. And, oh extasy, he was thin ! 
 But thinkest thou to know, oh reader of dust, what passed on 
 those ethereal whispers ? Futile futile curiosity ! Even to 
 Ophelia's straining ear, those whispers were inaudible. 
 
 But hark ! a rumble ! Something wrong in the bowels of the 
 sky ! And pash ! pash ! on the resounding roof of the omni 
 bus fell drops of rain fitfully ! fitfully ! 
 
 " My dear !" whispered Ophelia (for lone had borrowed her 
 chip hat, the better to elude recognition), " ask Ithuriel to step 
 in." 
 
 Ithuriel started to find a witness near, but a whisper from 
 lone reassured him, and gathering his cloak around his face, he 
 followed his spirit-bride into the 'bus. 
 
 The fat Miss Flimminses contracted their orbed shapes, and 
 made themselves small against the padded extremity of the 
 vehicle ; Ophelia retreated to the middle, and, next the door, on
 
 70 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 either side, sat the starry bride and bridegroom all breathlessly 
 silent. Yet there was a murmur for five hearts beat within 
 that 'bus's duodecimal womb ; and the rain pelted on the roof, 
 pailsful-like and unpityingly. 
 
 But slap ! dash ! whew ! heavens ! In rushed a youth, drip 
 ping, dripping ! 
 
 " Get out !" cried lone, over whose knees he drew himself like 
 an eel pulled through a basket of contorted other eels. 
 
 Come, come, young man !" said a deep bass voice, of which 
 everybody had some faint remembrance. 
 
 " Oh !" cried one fat Miss Flimmins. 
 
 " Ah !" screamed the other. 
 
 " What dad !" exclaimed Gideon Flimmins, who had dashed 
 into the sheltering 'bus to save his new hat " dad here with a 
 girl !" 
 
 But the fat Flimminses were both in convulsions. Scream ! 
 scream ! scream ! 
 
 A moment of confusion ! The next moment a sudden light ! 
 A watchman with his lantern stootf at the door. 
 
 " Papa !" ejaculated three of the ladies. 
 
 " Old Flimmins ! my heart will burst !" murmured lone. 
 
 The two fat girls hurried on their collars ; and Gideon, all 
 amazement at finding himself in such a family party at midnight 
 in a lonely 'bus, stepped out und entered into converse with the 
 guardian of the night. 
 
 The rain stopped suddenly, and the omnibus gave up its homo 
 geneous contents. Old Flimmins, who was in a violent perspira 
 tion, gave Gideon his cloak to carry, and his two arms to his 
 two pinguid adult pledges. Gideon took Ophelia and Phebe, and 
 they mizzled. Mockery ! mockery !
 
 THE SPIRIT-LOVE OF "IONE S 
 
 lone is not yet gone to the spirit-sphere kept here partly by 
 the fleshy fetter over which she mourned, and partly by the dove 
 tailed duties consequent upon annual Flimminses. Gideon loves 
 her after the manner of this world but she sighs "when she 
 hears sweet music," that her better part is still unappreciated 
 unfathomed " cabined, cribbed, confined !"
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL, 
 
 IT was the last week of September, and the keeper of " Con 
 gress hall" stood on his deserted colonnade. The dusty street of 
 Saratoga was asleep in the ^tillness of village afternoon. The 
 whittlings of the stage-runners at the corners, and around the 
 leaning posts, were fading into dingy undistinguishahleness. Stiff 
 and dry hung the slop-cloths at the door of .the livery stable, and 
 drearily clean was doorway and stall. " The season " was over. 
 
 " Well, Mr. B !" said the Boniface of the great caravan 
 sary, to a gentlemanly-looking invalid, crossing over from the 
 village tavern on his way to Congress spring, " this looks like the 
 
 end of it ! A slimmish season, though, Mr. B ! 'Gad, 
 
 things isn't as they used to be in your time ! Three months we 
 used to have of it, in them days, and the same people coming and 
 going all summer, and folks' own horses, and all the ladies drink 
 ing champagne ! And every ' hop' was as good as a ball, and a 
 ball when do you ever see such balls now-a-days ? Why, here's 
 all my best wines in the cellar ; and as to beauty pooh ! they're 
 done coming here, anyhow, are the belles, such as belles was /" 
 
 " You may say that, mine host, you may say that !" replied
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL. "73 
 
 the damaged Corydon, leaning heavily on his cane, " what 
 they're all gone, now, eh nobody at the ' United States ?" ' 
 
 " Not a soul and here's weather like August ! capital weather 
 for young ladies to walk out evenings, and, for a drive to Ba.r- 
 heighfll nothing like it ! It's a sin, / say, to pass such weather 
 in the city ! Why shouldn't they come to the springs in the 
 Indian summer, Mr. B- ?" 
 
 Coming events seemed to have cast their shadows before. As 
 Boniface turned his eyes instinctively toward the sand hill, whose 
 cloud of dust was the precursor 01 new pilgrims to the waters, 
 and the sign for the black boy to ring the bell of arrival, behold, 
 on its summit, gleaming through the nebulous pyramid, b'ke a 
 lobster through the steam of the fisherman's pot, one of the red 
 coaches of " the People's Line." 
 
 And another ! 
 
 And another ! 
 
 And another ! 
 
 Down the sandy descent came the first, while the driver's horn, 
 intermittent with the crack of his whip, set to bobbing every pine 
 coue of the adjacent wilderness. 
 
 " Prr ru te too toot pash ! crack ! snap ! prrr r 
 rut rut n-ut ! ! G'lang ! Hip ! 
 
 Boniface laid his hand on the pull of the porter's bell, but the 
 thought flashed through his mind that he might have been dream 
 ing was he awake ? 
 
 And, marvel upon wonder ! a horn of arrival from the other 
 
 end of the village ! And as he turned his eyes in that direction, 
 
 he saw the dingier turnouts from Lake Sacrament extras, 
 
 wagons, every variety of rattletrap conveyance pouring in like 
 
 4
 
 f4 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 an Irish funeral on the return, and making (oh, climax more 
 satisfactory !) straight, all, for Congress Hall ! 
 
 Events now grew precipitate 
 
 Ladies were helped out with green veils parasols and baskets 
 were handed after them baggage was chalked and distributed 
 (and parasols, baskets, and baggage, be it noted, were all of the 
 complexion that innkeepers love, the indefinable look which betrays 
 the owner's addictedness to extras) and now there was ringing 
 of bells ; and there were orders for the woodcocks to be dressed 
 with pork chemises, and for the champagne to be iced, the sherry 
 not and through the arid corridors of Congress Hall floated a 
 delicious toilet air of cold cream and lavender and ladies' maids 
 came down to press out white dresses, while the cook heated the 
 curling irons and up and down the stairs flitted, with the blest 
 confusion of other days, boots and iced sangarees, hot water, 
 towels, and mint-juleps all delightful, but all incomprehensible ! 
 Was the summer encored, or had the Jews gone buck to Jeru 
 salem ? To the keeper of Congress Hall the restoration of the 
 millcnium would have been a rush-light to this second advent of 
 fun-and-fashion-dom ! 
 
 Thus far we have looked through the eyes of the person 
 (pockct-ually speaking) most interested in the singular event we 
 wished to describe. Let us now (tea being over, and your 
 astonishment having had time to breathe) take the devil's place at 
 the elbow of the invalided dandy before-mentioned, and follow him 
 over to Congress Hall. It was a mild night, and, as I said 
 before (or meant to, if I did not), August having been pre 
 maturely cut off by his raining successor, seemed up again, like 
 Hamlet's governor, and bent on walking out his time. 
 
 Rice (you remember Rice famous fur his lemonades with a.
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL. 75 
 
 corrective) Rice, having nearly ignited his forefinger with 
 charging wines at dinner, was out to cool on the colonnade, and 
 
 B , not strong enough to stand about, drew a chair near the 
 
 drawing-room window, and begged the rosy barkeeper to throw 
 what light he could upon the multitudinous apparition. Rice 
 could only feed the fire of his wonder with the fuel of additional 
 circumstances. Coaches had been arriving from every direction till 
 the house was full. The departed black band had been stopped 
 at Albany, and sent back. There seemed no married people in 
 the party at least, judging by dress and flirtation. Here and 
 there a belle, a little on the wane, but all most juvenescent in 
 gayety, and (Rice thought) handsomer girls than had been at 
 Congress Hall since the days of the Albany regency (the regency 
 of beauty), ten years ago! Indeed, it struck Rice that he had 
 seen the faces of these lovely girls before, though they whom he 
 thought they resembled had long since gone off the stage grand 
 mothers, some of them, now ! 
 
 Rice had been told, also, that there was an extraordinary and 
 overwhelming arrival of children and nurses at the Pavilion. 
 Hotel, but he thought the report smelt rather like a jealous 
 figment of the Pavilioners. Odd, if true that's all ! 
 
 Mr. B had taken his seat on the colonnade, as Shakespere 
 
 expresses it, " about cock-shut time" twilight and in the 
 darkness made visible of the rooms within, he could only distin 
 guish the outline of some very exquisite, and exquisitely plump 
 figures gliding to and fro, winged, each one, with a pair of rather 
 stoutish, but most attentive admirers. As the curfew hour stole 
 away, however, the ladies stole away with it, to dress ; and at ten 
 o'clock the sudden outbreak of the full band in a mazurka, drew 
 Mr. B 's attention to tho dining-room frontage of the
 
 70 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 colonnade, and, moving his chair to one of the windows, the 
 cockles of his heart warmed to see the orchestra in its glory of 
 old thirteen black Orpheuses perched on a throne of dining- 
 tables, and the black veins on their shining temples strained to 
 the crack of mortality with their zealous execution. The waiters, 
 meantime, were lighting the tin Briareus (that spermaceti monster 
 so destructive to broadcloth), and the side-sconces and stand- 
 lamps, and presently a blaze of light flooded the dusty evergreens 
 of the facade, and nothing was wanting but some- fashionable 
 Curtius to plunge first into the void some adventurous Bi'nton, 
 u to set the ball in motion." 
 
 Wrapped carefully from the night-air in his cloak and belcher, 
 
 B sat looking earnestly into the room, and to his excited 
 
 senses there seemed, about all this supplement to the summer's 
 gayety, a weird mysteriousness, an atmosphere of magic, which 
 was observable, he thought, even in the burning of the candles ! 
 And as to Johnson, the sable leader of the band " God's-my- 
 life," as Bottom says, how like a tormented fiend writhed the 
 cremona betwixt his chin and white waistcoat ! Such music, 
 from instruments so vexed, had never split the ears of the 
 Saratoga groundlings since the rule of St. Dominick (in whose 
 hands even wine sparkled to song) no, not since the goldao age 
 of the Springs, when that lord of harmony and the nabobs of 
 lower Broadvwy inajde, of Congress Hall, a paradise for the 
 unmarried ! Was Johnson bewitched ? Was Congress Hall 
 
 repossessed by the spirits of the past ? If ever Mr. B , 
 
 sitting in other years on that resounding colonnade, had felt the 
 magnetic atmosphere of people he knew to be up stairs, he felt it 
 now ! If ever he had been contented, knowing that certain 
 bright creatures would presently glide into the visual radius of
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL. 77 
 
 black Johnson, he felt contented, inexplicably, from the same 
 cause now expecting, as if such music could only be their herald, 
 the entrance of the same bright creatures, no older, and as bright 
 
 after years of matrimony. And now and then B pressed his 
 
 hand to his head for he was not quite sure that he might not 
 be a little wandering in his mind. 
 
 But suddenly the band struck up a march ! The first bar was 
 
 played through, and B looked at the door, sighing that this 
 
 sweet hallucination this waking dream of other days was now 
 to be scattered by reality. He could have filliped that mer 
 cenary Ethiopian on the nose for playing such music to such 
 falling off from the past as he now looked to see enter. 
 
 A lady crossed the threshold on a gentleman's arm. 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" said B , trying with a wild effort to laugh, and 
 
 pinching his arm into a blood blister, " come this is too good ! 
 
 Helen K ! oh, no ! Not quite crazy yet, I hope not so far 
 
 gone yet ! Yet it is ! I swear it is ! And not changed, either ! 
 Beautiful as ever, by all that is wonderful ! Psha ! I'll not be 
 mad ! Rice ! Are you there ? "Why who are these coming 
 
 after her ? Julia L ! Anna K , and my friend Fanny ! 
 
 The D s ! The M s ! Nay, I'm dreaming, silly fool 
 
 that I am ! I'll call for a light ! Waiter ! ! Where the devil's 
 the bell r" 
 
 And as poor B insisting on finding himself in bed, reached 
 
 out his hand to find the bell-pull, one of the waiters of Congress 
 Hall came to his summons. The gentleman wanted nothing, and, 
 the waiter thought he had cried out in his nap ; and rather em 
 barrassed to explain his wants, but still unconvinced of his freedom 
 from dream-land, B drew his hat over his eyes, and his cloak
 
 73 
 
 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 around him, and screwed up his courage to look again into the 
 enchanted ball-room. 
 
 The quadrilles were formed, and the lady at the head of the 
 first set was spreading her skirts for the first avant-denx. Sho 
 was a tall woman, superbly handsome, and moved with the grace 
 of a frigate at sea with a nine-knot breeze. Eyes capable of tak 
 ing in lodgers (hearts, that is to say) of any and every calibre a'nd 
 quality, a bust for a Cornelia, a shape all love and lightness, and 
 a smile like a temptation of Eblis there she was and thoro 
 were fifty like her not like her, exactly, either, but of her con 
 stellation belles, every one of them, who will be remembered by 
 old men, and used for the disparagement of degenerated young 
 lings splendid women of Mr. B 's time, and of the palmy 
 time of Congress Hall 
 
 " The past the past the past !" 
 
 Out on your staring and unsheltered lantern of brick Your 
 " United States Hotel," stiff, naodprn, and promiscuous ! Who 
 ever passed a comfortable hour in its glaring cross-lights, or 
 breathed a gentle sentiment in its unsubdued air and townish 
 opcn-to-dustiness ! What is it to the leafy dimness, the cool 
 shadows, the perpetual and pensive demi-jour what to the ten 
 thousand associations of Congress Hall ! Who has not lost a 
 heart (or two)^on the boards "of that primitive wilderness of a 
 colonnade ! Whose first adorations, whose sighs, hopes, stratc- 
 .gies, and flirtations, are not ground into that warped and slipper- 
 polished floor, like heartache and avarice into the bricks of Wall 
 street ! Lord bless you, madam ! don't desert old Congress Hull ! 
 We have done going to the Springs (we) and wouldn't go 
 there again for anything, but a good price for a pang (that is,
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL. f 9 
 
 except to see such a sight as we are describing) but we can not 
 bear, in our midsummer flit through the Astor, to see charming 
 girls bound for Saratoga, and hear no talk of Congress Hall ! 
 What ! no lounge on those proposal sofas no pluck at the bright 
 green leaves of those luxuriant creepers while listening to " the 
 voice of the charmer" no dawdle on the steps to the spring 
 (mamma gone on before) no hunting for that glow-worm in the 
 shrubbery by the music-room no swing no billiards no morn 
 ing gossips with the few privileged beaux admitted to the up 
 stairs entry, ladies' wing ? 
 
 " I'd sooner be set quick i' the earth, 
 And bowled to death with turnips," 
 
 than assist or mingle in such ungrateful forge tfulness of pleasure- 
 land ! But what do we with a digression in a ghost-story ? 
 
 The ball went on. Champagne of the "exploded" color (pink) 
 was freely circulated between the dances (rosy wine suited to 
 the bright days when all things were tinted .rose) and wit, ex 
 ploded, too, in these leaden times, went round with the wine ; and 
 as a glass of the bright vintage was handed up to old Johnson, 
 B stretched his neck over the window-sill in an agony of ex 
 pectation, confident that the black ghost, if ghost he were, would 
 fail to recognize the leaders of fashion, as he was wont of old, and 
 to bow respectfully to them before drinking in their presence. 
 Oh, murder ! not he ! Down went his black poll to the music- 
 stand, and up, and down again, and at every dip, the white roller 
 of that unctuous eye was brought to bear upon some well-remem 
 bered star of the ascendant ! lie saw them as B did ! He 
 
 was not playing to an unrecognized company of late-comers to
 
 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Saratoga anybodies from any place ! lie, the unimaginative 
 African, believed evidently that they were there in flesh Rolen, 
 the glorious, and all her fair troop of contemporaries ! and that 
 with them had come back their old lovers, the gay and gallant 
 Lotharios of the time of Johnson's first blushing honors of 
 renown ! The big drops of agonized horror and incredulity rolled 
 off the forehead of Mr. B ! 
 
 But suddenly the waiters radiated to the side-doors, and with 
 the celestial felicity of star-rising and morning-breaking, a waltz 
 was found playing in the ears of the revellers ! Perfect, yet when, 
 it did begin ! Waltzed every brain and vein, waltzed every swim 
 ming eye within the reach of its magic vibrations ! Gently away 
 floated couple after couple, and as they circled round to his point of 
 
 observation, B could have called every waltzer by name 
 
 but his heart was in his throat, but his eyeballs were hot with 
 th." 1 .-tony immovableness of his long gazing. 
 
 Another change in the music ! Spirits of bedevilment ! could 
 not that waltz have been spared ! Boniface stood waltzing his 
 head from shoulder to shoulder Rice twirled the head chamber 
 maid in the entry the black and white boys spun round on the 
 colonnade the wall -flowers in the ball-room crowded their chairs 
 to the wall the candles flared embracingly ghosts or no ghosts, 
 dream or hallucination, B could endure no more ! He flun- 
 
 ' O 
 
 off his cloak and hat, and jumped in at the window. The divine 
 
 Emily C had that moment risen from tying her shoe. With 
 
 a nod to her partner, and a smile to herself, B encircled hor 
 
 round waist, and away he flew like Ariel, light on the toe, but his 
 face pallid and wild, and his emaciated 1 -gs playing like sticks in 
 his unfilled trousers. Twice he made the circuit of the room, 
 exciting apparently less surprise than pleasure by his sudden ap-
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL. 81 
 
 pearancc ; then, with a wavering halt, and his hand laid tremu 
 lously to his forehead, he flew at the hall-door at a tangent, and 
 rushing through servants and spectators, dashed across the por 
 tico, and disappeared in the darkness ! A fortnight's brain-fever 
 deprived him of the opportunity of repeating this remarkable 
 flourish, and his subsequent sanity was established through some 
 critical hazard. 
 
 There was some inquiry at supper about " old B ," but 
 the lady who waltzed with him knew as little of his coming and 
 going as the managers ; and, by one belle, who had been at some 
 trouble in other days to quench his ardor, it was solemnly believed 
 to be his persevering apparition. 
 
 The next day there was a drive and dinner at Barheight's, and 
 back in time for ball and supper ; and the day after there was a 
 most hilarious and memorable fishing-party to Saratoga lake, and 
 all back again in high force for the ball and supper ; and so like 
 a long gala-day, like a short summer carnival, all frolic, sped the 
 week away. Boniface, by the third day, had rallied his recollec 
 tions, and with many a scrape and compliment, he renewed his 
 acquaintance with the belles and beaux of a brighter period of 
 beauty and gallantry. And if there was any mystery remaining 
 in the old functionary's mind as to the identity and miracle of 
 their presence and reunion, it was on the one point of the ladies' 
 unfaded loveliness for, saving a half inch aggregation in the 
 waist, which was rather an improvement than otherwise, and a 
 little more fulness in the bust, which was a most embellishing dif 
 ference, the ten years that had gone over them had made no mark 
 on the lady portion of his guests ; and as to the gentlemen but 
 that is neither here nor there. They were " men of mark," 
 4*
 
 82 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 young or old, and their wear and tear is, as Flute says, " a thing 
 of naught." 
 
 It was revealed by the keeper of the Pavilion, after the depart 
 ure of the late-come revellers of Congress Hall, that there had 
 been constant and secret visitations by the belles of the latter so 
 journ, to the numerous infantine lodgers of the former. Such a 
 troop of babies and boys, and all so lovely, had seldom gladdened 
 even the eyes of angels, out of the cherubic choir (let alone the 
 Saratoga Pavilion), and though, in their white dresses and rose 
 buds, the belles afore spoken of looked like beautiful elder sisters 
 to those motherless younglings, yet when they came in, mothers 
 confessed, on the morning of departure, openly to superintend 
 the preparations for travel, they had so put off the untroubled 
 maiden look from their countenances, and so put on the inde 
 scribable growing-old-incss of married life in their dress, that, to 
 the eye of an observer, they might well have passed for the moth 
 ers- of the girls they had themselves seerued to be, the day before, 
 only. 
 
 "Who devised, planned, and brought about, this practical com 
 ment on the ncedlessntss of tJte American haste to be old, we are 
 not at liberty to mention. The reader will have surmised, how- 
 <jver, that it was some one who had observed the more enduring 
 quality of beauty in other lands, and on returning to his own, 
 looked in vain for those who, by every law of nature, should be 
 still embellishing the society of which he had left them the bud 
 ding flower and ornament. To get them together again, only 
 with their contemporaries, in one of their familiar haunts of pleas 
 ure to suggest the exclusion of everything but youthfulness in 
 dress, amusement, and occupation to bring to meet them their 
 old admirers, married like themselves, but entering the field once
 
 THE GHOST-BALL AT CONGRESS HALL. 83 
 
 more for their smiles against their rejuvenescent husbands to 
 array them as belles again, and see whether it was any falling off 
 in beauty or the power of pleasing which had driven them from 
 their prominent places in social life this was the obvious best 
 way of doing his immediate circle of friends the service his feel 
 ings exacted of him ; the only way, indeed, of convincing these 
 bright creatures that they had far anticipated the fading hour of 
 bloom and youthfulness. Pensez-y !
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE, 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GXANNINO PASQUALI was a smart tailor some five years ago, 
 occupying a cool shop on one of the smaller canals of Venice. 
 Four pairs of suspenders, a print of the fashions, and a motley row 
 of the gay-colored trousers worn by the gondoliers, ornamented 
 the window looking on the dark alley in the rear, and, attached to 
 the post of the water-gate on the canal side, floated a small black 
 gondola, the possession of which afforded the same proof of 
 prosperity of the Venetian tailor which is expressed by a horsjc 
 and buggy at the door of a snip in London. The- place-seeking 
 traveller, who, nez en Pair, threaded the tangled labyrinth of 
 alleys and bridges between the Rialto and St. Mark's, would 
 scarce have observed the humble shop-window of Pasquali, yet 
 he had a consequence on the Piazza, and the lagoon had seen 
 his triumphs as an amateur gondolier. Griannino was some thirty 
 years of age, and his wife Fiametta, whom he had married for 
 her zecchini, was on the shady side of fifty. 
 
 If the truth must be told, Pasquali had discovered that, even 
 with a bag of sequins for eye-water, Fiametta was not always the 
 most lovely woman in Venice. Just across the canal lived old
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE. 5 
 
 Donna Bcntqccata, the nurse, whose daughter Turturilla was like 
 the blonde in Titian's picture of the Marys ; and to the charms of 
 Turturilla, even seen through the leaden light of poverty, tho un 
 happy Pasquali was far from insensible. 
 
 The festa of San Antonio arrived after a damp week of No 
 vember, and though you would suppose the atmosphere of Venice 
 not liable to any very sensible increase of moisture, Fiametta, like 
 people who live on land, and have the rheumatism as a punishment 
 for their age and ugliness, was usually confined to her brazero of 
 hot coals till it was dry enough on the Lido for the peacocks to 
 walk abroad. On this festa, however, San Antonio being, as eve 
 ry one knows, the patron saint of Padua, the Padovese were to 
 come down the Brenta, as was their custom, and cross over the 
 sea to Venice to assist in the celebration ; and Fiametta once more 
 thought Pasquali loved her for herself alone when he swore by his 
 rosary that unless she accompanied him to the festa in her wed 
 ding dress, he would not turn an oar in the race, nor unfasten his 
 gondola from the door-post. Alas ! Fiametta was married in the 
 summer solstice, and her dress was permeable to the wind as a 
 cobweb, or gossamer. Is it possible you could have remembered 
 that, wicked Pasquali ? 
 
 It was a day to puzzle a barometer ; now bright, now rainy, 
 now gusty as a corridor in a novel, and now calm as a lady after 
 a fit of tears. Pasquali was up early and waked Fiametta with 
 a kiss, and, by way of unusual tenderness, or by way of ensuring 
 the wedding dress, he chose to play dressing maid, and arranged 
 with his own hands her jupon andfazzoletta. She emerged from 
 her chamber looking like a slice of orange-peel in a flower-bed, 
 but smiling and nodding, and vowing the day warm as April, and 
 the sky without a cloud. The widening circles of an occasional
 
 86 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 drop of rain in the canal were nothing but the bubbles bursting 
 after a passing oar, or perhaps the last flies of summer. Pas 
 quali swore it was weather to win down a peri. 
 
 As Fianietta stepped into the gondola, she glanced her eyes over 
 the way and saw Turturilla, with a face as sorrowful as the first 
 day in Lent, seated at her window. Her lap was full of work, 
 and it was quite evident that she had not thought of being at the 
 festa. Fiametta's heart was already warm, and it melted quite at 
 the sight of the poor girl's loneliness. 
 
 " Pasquali mio !" she said, in a deprecating tone, as if she were 
 uncertain how the proposition would be received, " I think we 
 could make room for poor Turturilla !'' 
 
 A gleam of pleasure, unobserved by the confiding sposa, tinted 
 faintly the smooth olive cheek of Pasquali. 
 
 "Eh ! diavolo /" he replied, so loud that the sorrowful seam 
 stress heard, and hung down her head still lower ; "must you take 
 pity on every cheese-paring of a ragezza who happens to have no 
 lover ! Have reason ! have reason ! The gondola is narrower 
 than your brave heart, my fine Fiametta !" And away he pushed 
 from the water-steps. 
 
 Turturilla rose from her work and stepped out upon the rusty 
 gratings of the balcony to see them depart. Pasquali stopped to 
 grease the notch of his oar, and between that and some other em 
 barrassments, the gondola was suffered to float directly under her 
 window. The compliment to the generous nature of Fiametta, 
 was, meantime, working, and as she was compelled to exchange a 
 word or two with Turturilla while her husband was getting las oar 
 into the socket, it resulted (as he thought it very probable it 
 would), in the good wife's renewing her proposition, and making a 
 point of sending the deserted girl for her holiday bonnet. Pas-
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE. 
 
 quali swore through all the saints and angels by the time she had 
 made herself ready, though she was but five minutes gone from 
 the window, and telling Fiametta in her ear that she must consid 
 er it as the purest obligation, he backed up to the steps of old 
 Donna Bentoccata, helped in her daughter with a better grace 
 than could have been expected, and with one or two short and 
 deep strokes, put forth into the grand canal with the velocity of a 
 lance-fly. 
 
 A gleam of sunshine lay along the bosom of the broad silver 
 sheet, and it was beautiful to see the gondolas with their gay color 
 ed freights all hastening in one direction, and with a swift track 
 to the festa. Far up and down they rippled the smooth water, 
 here gliding out from below a palace-arch, there from a narrow 
 and unseen canal, the steel beaks curved and flashing, the water 
 glancing on the oar-blades, the curtains moving,, and the fair wo 
 men of Venice leaning out and touching hands as they neared 
 neighbor or acquaintance in the close-pressing gondolas. It was 
 a beautiful sight, indeed, and three of the happiest hearts in that 
 swift gliding company were in Pasquali's gondola, though the bliss 
 of Fiametta, I am compelled to say, was entirely owing to the 
 bandage with which love is so significantly painted. Ah ! poor 
 Fiametta ! 
 
 From the Lido, from Fusina, from under the Bridge of Sighs, 
 from all quarters of the lagoon, and from all points of the floating 
 city of Venice, streamed the flying gondolas to the Giudecca. 
 The narrow walk along the edge of the long and close-built island 
 was thronged with booths and promenaders, and the black barks 
 by hundreds bumped their steel noses against the pier as the agi 
 tated water rose and fell beneath them. The gondolas intended 
 for the race pulled slowly up and down, close to the shore, cxhi-
 
 gg FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 biting their fairy-like forms and their sinewy and gayly dressed 
 gondoliers to the crowds on land and water ; the bands of music, 
 attached to different parties, played here and there a strain ; the 
 criers of holy pictures and gingerbread made the air vocal with 
 their lisping and soft Venetian ; and all over the scene, as if it 
 was the light of the sky or some other light as blessed but less com 
 mon, shone glowing black eyes, black as night, and sparkling as 
 the stars on night's darkest bosom. He who thinks lightly of 
 Italian beauty should have seen the women of Venice on St. An 
 tonio's day *32, or on any or at any hour when their pulses are 
 beating high and their eyes alight for they are neither one nor 
 the other always. The women of that fair clime, to borrow the 
 simile of Moore, are like lava -streams, only bright when the vol 
 cano kindles. Their long lashes cover lustreless eyes, and their 
 blood shows dully through the cheek in common and listless hours. 
 The calm, the passive tranquillity in which the delicate graces of 
 colder climes find their element are to them a torpor of the heart 
 when the blood scarce seems to flow. They are wakeful only to 
 the energetic, the passionate, the joyous movements of the soul. 
 Pasquali stood erect in the prow of his gondola, and stole fur 
 tive glances at Turturilla while he pointed away with his finger 
 to call off the sharp eyes of Fiametta ; but Fiametta was happy 
 and unsuspicious. Only when now and then the wind came up 
 chilly from the Adriatic, the poor wife shivered and sat closer to 
 Turturilla, who in her plainer but thicker dress, to say nothing 
 of younger blood, sat more comfortably on the black cushion and 
 thought less about the weather. An occasional drop of rain fell 
 on the nose of poor Fiametta, but if she did not believe it was 
 the spray from Pasqnali's oar, she at least did her best to believe 
 so ; and the perfidious tailor swore by St Anthony that the clouds
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE. g9 
 
 were as dry as her eyelashes. I never was very certain that Tur- 
 turilla was not in the secret of this day's treacheries. 
 
 The broad centre of the Giudecca was cleared, and the boats 
 took their places for the race. Pasquali ranged his gondola with 
 those of the other spectators, and telling Fiametta in her ear that 
 he should sit on the other side of Turturilla as a punishment for 
 their malapropos invitation, he placed himself on the small re 
 mainder of the deep cushion on the farthest side from his now 
 penitent spouse, and while he complained almost rudely of the 
 narrowness of his seat, he made free to hold on by Tnrturilla*s 
 waist, which no doubt made the poor girl's mind more easy on the 
 subject of her intrusion. 
 
 Who won and who lost the race, what was the device of each 
 flag, and what bets and bright eyes changed owners by the result, 
 no personage of this tale knew or cared, save Fiametta. She 
 looked on eagerly. Pasquali .and Turturilla, as the French say, 
 trouvaienk autress chats d f rotter. 
 
 After the decision of the grand race, St. Antonio being the 
 protector, more particularly of the humble (" patron of pigs " in 
 the saints' calendar), the seignoria and the grand people gener 
 ally, pulled away for St. Mark's, leaving the crowded Giudecca 
 to the people. Pasquali, as was said before, had some renown as 
 a gondolier. Something what would be called in other countries 
 a scrub race, followed the departure of the winning boat, and sev 
 eral gondolas, holding each one person only, took their places for 
 the start. The tailor laid his hand on his bosom, and, with the 
 smile that had first stirred the heart and the sequins of Fiametta, 
 begged her to gratify his love by acting as his make-weight while 
 he turned an oar for the pig of St. Antonio. The prize roasted 
 to an appetizing crisp, stood high on a platter in front of one of
 
 90 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 the booths on shore, and Fiauietta smacked her lips, overcame 
 her tears with an effort, and told him, in accents as little as pos 
 sible like the creak of a dry oar in the socket, that he might set 
 Turturilla on shore. 
 
 A word in her ear, as he handed her over the gunwale, recon 
 ciled Bonna Bentoccata's fair daughter to this conjugal partiality, 
 and stripping his manly figure of its upper disguises, Pasquali 
 straightened out his fine limbs, and drove his bark to the line in a 
 style that drew applause from even his competitors. As a mark 
 of their approbation, they offered him an outside place where his 
 fair dame would be less likely to be spattered with the contend 
 ing oars ; but he was too generous to take advantage of this con 
 siderate offer, and crying out as he took the middle, " ben pronto, 
 signori !" gave Fiametta a confident look and stood like a hound 
 in the leash. 
 
 Off they went at the tap of the drum, poor Fiametta holding 
 her breath and clinging to the sides of the gondola, and Pasquali 
 developing skill and muscle not for Fiamctta's eyes only. It 
 was a short, sharp race, without jockeying or management, all fair 
 play and main strength, and the tailor shot past the end of the 
 Giudecca a boat's length ahead. Much more applauded than a 
 king at a coronation or A lord-mayor taking water at London 
 fctairs, he slowly made his way back to Turturilla, and it was 
 only when that demure damsel rather shrunk from sitting down 
 in two inches of water, that he discovered how the disturbed 
 element had quite filled up the hollow of the leather cushion and 
 made a peninsula of the uncomplaining Fiametta. She was as 
 well watered, as a favorite plant in a flower-garden. 
 
 " Fasquali mio /" she said in an imploring tone, holding up
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE. 91 
 
 the skirt of her dress with the tips of her thumb and finger, 
 " could you just take me home while I change my. dress ?" 
 " One moment, Fiametta cara ! they are bringing the pig !" 
 The crisp and succulent trophy was solemnly placed in the 
 prow of the victor's gondola, and preparation was made to con 
 voy him home with a triumphant procession. A half hour before 
 it was in order to move an hour in first making the circuit of 
 the grand canal, and an hour more in drinking a glass and 
 exchanging good wishes at the stairs of the Rialto, and Donua 
 Fiametta had sat too long by two hours and a half with scarce a 
 dry thread on her body. What afterwards befell will be seen in 
 the. more melancholy sequel. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE hospital of St. Girolamo is attached to the convent of 
 that name, standing on one of the canals which put forth on the 
 seaward side of Venice. It is a long building, with its low windows 
 and latticed doors opening almost on the level of the sea, and the 
 wards for the sick are large and well aired ; but, except when the 
 breeze is stirring, impregnated with a saline dampness from the 
 canal, which, as Pasquali remarked, was good for the rheumatism. 
 It was not so good for the patient. 
 
 The loving wife Fiametta grew worse and worse after the fatal 
 festa, and the fit of rheumatism brought on by the slightncss of 
 her dress and the spattering he had given her in the race, had 
 increased by the end of the week, to a rheumatic fever. Fia 
 metta was old and tough, however, and struggled manfully
 
 0,2 FT'N JOTTINGS. 
 
 (woman as she was) with the disease, but being one night a little 
 out of her head, her loving husband took occasion to shudder at 
 the responsibility of taking care of her, and jumping into liis 
 gondola, he pulled across to St. Girolamo and bespoke a dry bod 
 and a sister of charity, and brought back the pious father Gas- 
 paro and a comfortable litter. Fiametta was dozing when they 
 arrived, and the kind-hearted tailor willing to spare her the pain 
 of knowing that she was on her way to the hospital for the poor, 
 set out some meat and wine for the monk, and sending over for 
 Turturilla and the nurse to mix the salad, they sat and ate a\v:iy 
 the hours till the poor dame's brain should be wandering again. 
 
 Toward night the monk and Dame Bentoccata were comforta 
 bly dozing with each other's support (having fallen asleep at 
 table), and Pasquali with a kiss from Turturilla, stole softly up 
 Bt:iirs. Fiametta was muttering unquietly, and working her 
 fingers in tho palms of her hands, and on feeling her pulse he 
 found the fever was at its height. She took him, besides, for the 
 prize pig of the festa, for he knew her wits were fairly abroad. 
 He crept down stairs, gave the monk a "strong cup of coffee to 
 get him well awake, and between the four of them, they got poor 
 Fiametta into the litter, drew the curtains tenderly around and 
 deposited her safely in the bottom of the gondola. 
 
 Lightly and smoothly the winner of the pig pulled away with 
 his loving burden, and gliding around the slimy corners of the 
 palaces, and hushing his voice as he cried out " right !" or 
 u left !" to guard the doming gondoliers of his vicinity, he 
 arrived, like a thought of love to a maid's mind in sleep, at tlie 
 door of St. Girolamo. The abbess looked out and said, " Jjcne- 
 dicite . pl> and the monk stood firm on his brown sandals to "receive 
 the precious burden from the arms of Pasquali. Believing firmly
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE. 93 
 
 that it was equivalent to committing her to the hand of St. 
 Peter, and of- course abandoning all hope of seeing her again in 
 this world, the soft-hearted tailor wiped his eye as she was lifted 
 in, and receiving a promise from Father Gasparo that he would 
 communicate faithfully the state of her soul in the last agony, he 
 pulled, with lightened gondola and heart back to his widower's 
 home and Turturilla. 
 
 For many good reasons, and apparent as good, it is a rule in 
 the hospital of St. Girolamo, that the sick under its holy charge 
 shall receive the visit of neither friend nor relative. If they 
 recover, they return to their abodes to earn candles for the altar 
 of the restoring saint. If they die, their clothes are sent to their 
 surviving friends, and this affecting memorial, besides communi 
 cating the melancholy news, affords all the particulars and all the 
 consolation they are supposed to require upon the subject of their 
 loss. 
 
 Waiting patiently for Father Gasparo and his bundle, Pasquali 
 and Turturilla gave themselves up to hopes, which on the tailor's 
 part (we fear it must be admitted), augured a quicker recovery 
 from grief than might be credited to an elastic constitution. 
 The fortune of poor Fiamctta was sufficient to warrant Pasquali 
 in neglecting his shop to celebrate every festa that the church 
 acknowledged, and for ten days subsequent to the committal of 
 his wife to the tender mercies of St. Girolamo, five days out of 
 seven was the proportion of merry holydays with his new 
 betrothed. 
 
 They were sitting one evening in the open piazza of St. Mark, 
 in front of the most thronged cafe, of that matchless square. 
 The moon was resting her silver disk on the point of the Campa 
 nile, and the shadows of thousands of gay Venetians fell on the
 
 94 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 immense pavement below, clear and sharply drawn as a black 
 cartoon. The four extending sides of the square lay half in 
 shades half in light, with their innumerable columns and balco 
 nies and sculptured work, and, frowning down on all, in broken 
 light and shadow, stood the arabesque structure of St. Mark's 
 itself, dizzying the eyes with its mosaics and confused devices, aud 
 thrusting forth the heads of her four golden-collared steeds into 
 the moonbeams, till they looked on that black relief, like the 
 horses of Pluto issuing from the gates of Hades. In the centre 
 of the square stood a tali woman, singing, in rich contralto, an 
 old song of the better days of Venice ; and against one of the 
 pillars, Polichinello had backed his wooden stage, and beat about 
 his puppets with an energy worthy of old Dandolo and his hclmet- 
 c<l galley-men. To those who wore not the spectacles of grief 
 or discontent, the square of St. Mark's that night was like some 
 
 ing tableau. 1 never saw anything so gay. 
 
 Everybody who has " swam in a gondola," knows how the 
 
 CY//V.V of Venice thrust out their checkered awnings over a portion 
 
 of the square, and filled the shaded space below with chairs and 
 
 marble tables. In a' corner of the shadow thus afforded, with 
 
 !! coffee on a small round slab between them, and the flat 
 pavement of the public promenade under their feet, sat our two 
 lovers. With neither hoof nor wheel to drown or interrupt their 
 
 - (as in cities whose streets are stones, not water), th.-y 
 murmured their hopes and wishes in the softest language under 
 the ^un, and with the sotto voce acquired by all the inhabitants 
 of this noiseless city. Turturilla had taken ice to cool her and 
 coffee to take off the chill of her ice, and a bicchicre del per f el to 
 amorc to reconcile these two antagonists in her digestion, when 
 the slippers of a mouk glided by, aud in a moment the recognized
 
 PASQUALI, THE TAILOR OF VENICE. 95 
 
 Father Gasparo made a third in the shadowy corner. The ex 
 pected bundle was under his arm, and he was on his way to Pas- 
 quali's dwelling. Having assured the disconsolate tailor that she 
 had unction and wafer as became the wife of a citizen of Venice 
 like himself, he took heart and grew content that she was in hea 
 ven. It was a better place, and Turturilla for so little as a gold 
 ring, would supply her -place in his bosom. 
 
 The moon was but a brief week older when Pasquali and Tur 
 turilla stood in the church of our lady of grief, and Father Gas 
 paro within the palings of the altar. She was as fair a maid as 
 ever bloomed in the garden of beauty beloved of Titian, and the 
 tailor was nearer worth nine men to look at, than the fraction of 
 a man considered- usually the exponent of his profession. Away 
 mumbled the good father upon the matrimonial service, thinking 
 of the old wine and rich pastries that were holding their sweet 
 ness under cork and crust only till he had done his ceremony, and 
 quicker by some seconds than had ever been achieved before by 
 priest or bishop, he arrived at the putting on of the ring. His 
 hand was tremulous, and (oh unlucky omen !) he dropped it witb- 
 in the gilden fence of the chancel. The choristers were called, 
 and Father Gasparo dropped on his knees to look for it but if 
 the devil had not spirited it away, there was no other reason why 
 that search was in vain. Short of an errand to the goldsmith on 
 the Rialto, it was at last determined the wedding could not pro 
 ceed. Father Gasparo went to hide his impatience within the 
 restiary, and Turturilla knelt down to pray against the arts of 
 Sathanas. Before they had settled severally to their pious occu 
 pations, Pasquali was half way to the Rialto. 
 
 Half an hour elapsed, and then instead of the light grazing of 
 a swift-sped gondola along the church stairs, the splash of a sul-
 
 96 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Icn oar was heard, and Pasquali stepped on shore. They had 
 hastened to the door to receive him monk, choristers and bride 
 and to their surprise and bewilderment, he waited to hand out 
 a woman in a strange dress, who seemed disposed, bridegroom as 
 he was, to make him wait her leisure. Her clothes fitted her ill, 
 and she carried in her hand a pair of shoes, it was easy to see 
 were never made for her. She rose at last, and as her face be 
 came visible, down dropped Turturilla and the pious father, and 
 motionless and aghast stood the simple Pasquali. Fiametta step- 
 
 * 
 
 ped on shore ! 
 
 In broken words Pasquali explained. He had landed at the 
 stairs near the fish market, and with two leaps reaching the top, 
 sped off past the buttress in the direction of the. goldsmith, when 
 his course was arrested by encountering at full speed, the person 
 of an old woman. Hastily raising her up, ho recognized his 
 wife, who, fully recovered, but without a gondola, was threading 
 the zig-zag alleys on foot, on her way to her own domicil. After 
 the first astonishment was over, her dress explained the error of 
 the good father and the extent of his own misfortune. The 
 clothes had been hung between the bed of Fiametta and that of 
 a smaller woman who had been long languishing of a consump 
 tion. She died, and Fiametta 's clothes, brought to the door by 
 mistake, were recognized by Father Gasparo and taken to Pas 
 quali. 
 
 The holy monk, chop-fallen and sad, took his solitary way to 
 the convent, but with the first step he felt something slide into 
 the heel of his sandal. lie sat down on the church stairs and 
 absolved the devil from theft it was the lost ring, which had 
 fallen upon his foot and saved Pasquali the tailor from the pains 
 of bigamy.
 
 LET me introduce the courteous reader to two ladies. 
 
 Miss Picklin, a tall young lady of twenty-one, near enough to 
 good-looking to -permit of a delusion on the subject (of which, 
 however, she had an entire monopoly), with cheeks always red in 
 a small spot, lips not so red as tho cheeks, and rather thiu, sharp 
 ish nose, and waist very slender ; and last (not least important), 
 a very long neck, scalded on either side into a resemblance to a 
 scroll of shrivelled parchment, which might or might not be con 
 sidered as a mis-fortuuQ serving her as a title-deed to twenty 
 thousand dollars. The scald was inflicted, and the fortune left in 
 consequence, by a maiden aunt who, in the babyhood of Miss 
 Picklin, attempted to cure the child's sore throat by an applica 
 tion of cabbage-leaves steeped in hot vinegar. 
 
 Miss Euphemia Picklin, commonly called Phemie a good- 
 humored girl, rather inclined to be fat, but gifted with several 
 points of beauty of which she was not at all aware, very much a 
 pet among her female friends, and admitting, with perfect sincer 
 ity and submission, her sister's exclusive right to the admiration 
 of the gentlemen of their acquaintance. 
 
 Captain Isaiah Picklin, the father of these ladies, was a mer-
 
 98 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 chant of Salem, an importer of figs and opium, and once master 
 of the brig " Simple Susan," which still -plied between his ware 
 house and Constantinqple nails and codfish the cargo outward. 
 I have not Miss Picklin's permission to mention the precise date 
 of the events I am about to record, and leaving that point alone 
 to the imagination of the reader, I shall set down the other par 
 ticulars and impediments in her " course of true love " with his 
 torical fidelity. 
 
 Ever since she had been of sufficient age to turn her attention 
 exclusively to matrimony, Miss Picklin had nourished a presenti 
 ment that her destiny was exotic ; that the soil of Salem was too 
 poor, and the indigenous lovers too mean ; and that, potted in her 
 twenty thousand dollars, she was a choice production, set aside 
 for flowering in a foreign clime, and destined to be transplanted 
 by a foreign lover. With this secret in her bosom, she had re 
 fused one or two gentlemen of middle age, recommended by her 
 father, beside sundry score of young gentlemen of slender reve 
 nues in her own set of acquaintances, till, if there had been any 
 thing beside poetry in Shakspere's assertion that it is 
 
 '' Broom groves 
 Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves," 
 
 the neighboring " brush barrens " of Saugus would have sold in 
 lots at a premium. It was possibly from the want of nightingales, 
 to whose complaining notes the gentleman of Verona " turned his 
 distresses," that the discarded of Salem preferred the consolations 
 of Phemie Picklin. 
 
 News to the Picklins ! Hassan Keui, the son of old Abdoul 
 ivcui, was coining out in the " Simple Susan !" A Turk a live
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 99 
 
 Turk a young 1 urk, and the son of her father's rich correspon 
 dent in Turkey ! ' "Ah me ! J ' thought Miss Picklin. 
 
 The captain himself was rather taken aback. He had known 
 old Abdoul for many years, had traded and smoked with him m 
 the cafes of Galata, had gone out with him on Sundays to lounge 
 on the tombstones at Scutari, and had never thought twice about, 
 his yellow gown and red trowsers ; but what the deuce, would be 
 thought of them in Salem ? True, it was his son ; but a Turk's 
 clothes descend from father to son through three generations ; he 
 knew that, from remembering this very boy all but smothered in 
 a sort of saffron blanket, with sleeves like pillowcases his first 
 assumption of the toga virilis (not that old Picklin knew Latin, 
 but such was " his sentiment better expressed'"). Then he had 
 never been asked to the house of the Stamboul merchant, not in 
 troduced to his wives nor his daughters (indeed, he had forgotten 
 that old Keui was near cutting his throat for asking after them ) 
 but of course it was very different in Salem. Young Keui 
 must be the Picklin guest, fed and lodged, and the girls would 
 want to give him a tea party. Would he sit on a chair, or want 
 .cushions on the floor ? Would he come to dinner with his breast 
 bare, and leave his boots outside ? Would he eat rice pudding 
 with his fingers ? Would he think it indecent if the girls didn't 
 wear linen cloths, Turkey fashion, over their mouths and noses ? 
 Would he bring his pipes ? Would he fall on his face and say 
 his prayers four times a day, wherever he should be (with a clean 
 place handy) ? What would the neighbors say? The 'captain 
 worked himself into a violent perspiration with merely thinking 
 of all this. 
 
 The Salemites have a famous museum, and know " what man-
 
 1^0 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ncr of thing is your crocodile ;" but a live Turk consigned to 
 Captain Pickliu ! It set the town in a fever ! 
 
 It would leave an indelicate opening for a conjecture as to Miss 
 Picklin's present age, were I to state whether or not the arrival 
 of the " Simple Susan " was reported by telegraph. She ran iu 
 with a fair wind one Sunday morning, and was immediately board 
 ed by the harbor-master and Captain Picklin ; and there, true to 
 the prophetic boding of old Isaiah, the young Turk sat cross-leg 
 ged on the quarter-deck, in a white turban and scarlet et ceteras, 
 smoking his father's identical pipe no other, the captain would 
 Lave taken his oath ! 
 
 Up rose Hassan, when informed who was his visitor, and taking 
 old Picklin's hand, put it to his forehead. The weather-stained 
 sea- captain iiad^bleached in the counting-house, and he had not, 
 at first sight, remembered the old friend of his father. He passed 
 the pipe in-to Isaiah's hand and begged him to keep it as a me- 
 nii'iito of Abdoul, for his father had died at the last llamazan. 
 ]Ia-~:m had come out to see the world, and secure a continuance 
 of codfish and good-will from the house of Picklin, and the mer 
 chant got astride the tiller of his old craft, and smoked this news 
 through his amber-mouthed legacy, while the youth went below 
 to got ready to go ashore. 
 
 The reader of course would prefer to share the first impressions 
 of the ladies as to the young Mussulman's personal appearance, 
 and I pass at once, therefore, to their disappointment, surprise, 
 mortifioation, and vexation ; when, as the bells were ringing for 
 church, the front door opened, their father entered, and in follow 
 ed a young gentleman in fiockcoat and trowsers ! Yes, and in 
 his hand a hat a black hat and on his feet no yellow boots, but 
 calfskin, mundane and common calfskin, and with no shaved head,
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 1Q1 
 
 and no twisted shawl around bis waist ; nothing to be seen but a 
 very handsome young man indeed, with teeth like a fresh slice of 
 cocoa-nut meat, and a very deliberate pronunciation to his bad 
 English. 
 
 Miss Picklin's disappointment had to be slept upon, for she 
 had made great outlay of imagination upon the pomp and circum 
 stance of wedding a white Othello in the eyes of wondering Salem ; 
 but Phemie's surprise took but five minutes to grow into a posi 
 tive pleasure ; and never suspecting, at any time, that she was vis 
 ible to the naked eye during the eclipsing presence of her sister, 
 she sat with a very admiring smile upon her lips, and her soft 
 eyes fixed earnestly on the stranger, till she had made out a full 
 inventory of his features, proportions, manners, and other stuff 
 available in dream-land. What might be Hassan's impression of 
 the young ladies, could not be gathered from his manner ; for, ia 
 the first place, there was the reserve which belonged to him as a 
 Turk, and, in the second place, there was a violation of all orien 
 tal notions of modesty in their exposing their chins to the mascu 
 line observation ; and though he could endure the exposure, it was 
 of course with that diffidence of gaze which accompanies the con 
 sciousness of improper objects adding to his demeanor another 
 shade of timidity. 
 
 Miss Picklin's shoulders were not invaded quite to the limits 
 of terra cognita by the cabbage-leaves which had exercised such 
 an influence on her destiny ; and as the scalds somewhat reeem- 
 bled two maps of South America (with Patagonia under each 
 ear), she usually, in full dress, gave a clear view of the surround 
 ing ocean wisely thinking it better to have the geography of her 
 disfigurement well understood, than, by covering a small extrem 
 ity (as it were the isthmus of Darien), to leave an undiscovered
 
 102 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 North America to the imagination. She appeared accordingly at 
 dinner in a costume not likely to diminish the modest emban -la 
 ment of Mr. Keui (as she chose to call him) extremely decollet.6, 
 in a pink silk dress with short sleeves, and in a turban with a 
 gold fringe the latter, of course, out of compliment to his coun 
 try. " Money is power," even in family circles, and it was only 
 Miss Picklin who exercised the privilege of full dress at a mid 
 day dinner. Phemie came to table dressed as at breakfast, and 
 if she felt at all envious of her sister's pink gown and elbows to 
 match, it did not appear in her pleasant face or sisterly attention. 
 The captain would allow anything, and do almost anything, for 
 his rich daughter ; but as to dining with his coat on, in hot wea 
 ther, company or no company, he would rather 
 
 "be set quick i' the earth, 
 And bowled to death with turnips " 
 
 though that is not the way he expressed it. The parti carre, 
 therefore (for there was no Mrs. Picklin), was, in the matter of 
 costume, rather incongruous, but, as the Turk took it for granted 
 that it was all according to the custom of the country, the carving 
 was achieved by the shirt-sleeved captain, and the pudding " help 
 ed " by his bare-armed daughter, with no particular commotion 
 in the elements. Earthquakes do not invariably follow violations 
 of ttiquette particularly where nobody is offended. 
 
 After the first day, things took their natural course as near 
 as they were able. Hassan was not very quick at conversation, 
 always taking at least five minutes to put together for delivery a 
 sentence of English, but his laugh did not hang fire, nor did his 
 nods and smiles ; and where ladies are voluble (as ladies some-
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 
 
 times are), this paucity of ammunition on the gentleman's part is 
 no prelude to discomfiture. Then Phemie had a very fair smat 
 tering of Italian, and that being the business language of the Le 
 vant, Hassan took refuge in it whenever brought to a stand -still 
 in English a refuge, by the way, of which he seemed inclined to 
 avail himself oftener than was consistent with Miss Picklin's ex 
 clusive property in his attention. Rebellious though Hassan 
 might secretly have been to this authority over himself, Phemie 
 was no accomplice, natural modesty combining with the long habit 
 of subserviency to make her even anticipate the exactions of the 
 heiress ; and so Miss Picklin had " Mr. Keui " principally to 
 herself, promenading him through the streets of Salem, and be 
 stowing her sweetness upon him from his morning entrance to his 
 evening exit ; Phemie relieving guard very cheerfully, while her 
 sister dressed for dinner. It was possibly from being permitted to 
 converse in Italian during this half hour, that Hassan made it the 
 only part of the day in which he talked of himself and his house 
 on the Bosphorus, but that will not account also for Phemie'a 
 sighing while she listened never having sighed before iu her life, 
 not even while the same voice was talking English to her sister. 
 Without going into a description of the Picklin tea-party, at 
 which Hassan was induced to figure in his oriental costume, while 
 Miss Picklin sat by him on a cushion, turbaned and (probably) 
 cross legged, a la Sultana, and without recording other signs sat 
 isfactory to the Salemites, that the young Turk had fallen to the 
 scalded heiress 
 
 . " As does the ospray to the fish, that takes it, 
 By sovereignty of nature " 
 
 I must come plump to the fact that, on the Monday following
 
 104 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 (one week after his arrival) Hassan left Salem, ^accompanied 
 ly Miss Picklin. As he had asked for no private interview in the 
 host parlor, and had made his final business arrangements with tho 
 captain, so that he could take passage from New York without 
 returning, some people were inclined to fancy that Miss Picklin's 
 demonstrations with regard to him had been a little premature. 
 Aud " some people " chose to smile. But it was reserved for 
 Mi-.s Picklin to look round in church, in about one year from this 
 event, and have her triumph over " some people ;" for she was 
 about to sail for Constantinople " sent for," as the captain rude 
 ly expressed it. But I must explain. 
 
 The " Simple Susan " came in, heavily freighted with a con 
 signment from the house of Keui to Picklin & Co., and a letter 
 from the American consul at Constantinople wrapped in tho in 
 voice. With the careful and ornate wording of an official epistle, 
 J od that Effendi Hassan Keui had called on the consul, and 
 partly from the mistrust of his ability to express himself in Eng 
 lish on so delicate a subject, but more particularly for the sake 
 of approaching the object of his affections with proper deference 
 and ceremony, he had requested that officer to prepare a docu 
 ment conveying a proposal of marriage to the daughter of Cap 
 tain Picklin. The incomplete state of his mercantile arrange 
 ments, while at Salem the previous year, would account for his 
 pilence on the subject at that time, but he trusted that his prefer 
 ence had been sufficiently manifest to the lady of his heart ; and 
 as his prosperity in business depended on his remaining at Con 
 stantinople, enriching himself only for her sake, he was sure that 
 the singular request appended to his offer would" be taken as a 
 mark of his prudence rather than as a presumption. The cabin 
 of the " Simple Susan," as Captain Picklin knew, was engaged on
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 105 
 
 her next passage to Constantinople by a party of missionaries, 
 male and female, and the request was to the intent that, in case 
 of an acceptance of his offer, the fair daughter of the owner would 
 come out, under their sufficient protection, to be wedded, if she 
 should so please, on the day of her arrival in the " Golden Horn.'' 
 
 As Mi?s Picklin had preserved a mysterious silence on the sub 
 ject of " Mr. Keui's " attentions since his departure, and as a lady 
 with twenty thousand dollars in her own right is, of course, quite 
 independent of parental control, the captain, after running his eye 
 hastily through the document, called to the boy who was weighing 
 out a quintal of codfish, and bid him wrap the letter in a brown 
 paper and run with it to Miss Picklin taking it for granted that 
 she knew more about the matter than he did, and would explain 
 it all, when he came home to dinner. 
 
 In thinking the matter over, on his way home, it occurred to 
 old Picklin that it was worded as if he had but one daughter. At 
 any rate, he was quite sure that neither of his daughters was 
 particularly specified, either by name or age. No doubt it was 
 all right, however. The girls understood it. 
 
 " So, it's you, miss!" he said, as Miss Picklin looked round 
 from j;be turban she was trying on before the glass. 
 
 " Certainly, pa ! who else should it be ? 
 
 And there ended the captain's .doubts, for he never again got 
 sight of the letter, and the turmoil of preparation for Miss Pick- 
 lin's voyage, made the house anything but a place for getting an 
 swers to impertinent questions. Phemie, whom the. news had 
 made silent and thoughtful, let drop a hint or two that she would 
 like to see the letter ; but a mysterious air, and " La ! child, you 
 wouldn't understand it," was check enough for her timid curios- 
 5*
 
 106 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ity, and she plied her needle upon her sister's wedding dress 
 with patient submission. 
 
 The preparations for the voyage went on swimmingly. Tho 
 missionaries were written to, and willingly consented to chaperon 
 Miss Picklin over the seas, provided her union with a pagan was 
 to be sanctified with a Christian ceremonial. Miss Picklin replied 
 with virtuous promptitude that the cake for the wedding was al 
 ready soldered up in a tin case, and that she was to be married 
 immediately on her arrival, under an awning on the brig's deck, 
 and she hoped that four of the missionaries' wives would oblige 
 her by standing up as her bridesmaids. Many square feet of 
 codfish were unladen from the " Simple Susan " to make room 
 for boxes and bags, and one large case was finally shipped, the 
 contents of which had been shopped for by ladies with families 
 no book of oriental travels making any allusion to the sale of such 
 articles in Constantinople, though, in the natural course of things, 
 they must be wanted as much in Turkey as in Salem. 
 
 The brig was finally cleared and lay off in the stream, and on 
 the evening before the embarkation the missionaries arrived and 
 were invited to a tea-party at the Picklins. Miss Picklin had 
 got up a little surprise for her friends with which to close the 
 party a " walking tableau," as she termed it, in which she should 
 suddenly make her apparition at one door, pass through the room, 
 and go out at the other, dressed as a sultana, with a muslin kirtle 
 and satin trowsers. She disappeared accordingly half an hour 
 before the breaking up ; and, conversation rather languishing in 
 her absence, the eldest of the missionaries rose to conclude the 
 cvrning with a prayer, in the midst of which -Miss Picklin passed 
 through the room unperceived the faces fc of the company being 
 turned to the wall.
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 107 
 
 The next morning at daylight the " Simple Susan " put to sea 
 with a fair wind, and at the usual hour for opening the store of 
 Picklin and Co., she had dropped below the horizon. Pheniio 
 sat upon the end of the wharf and watched her till she was out of 
 sight, and the captain walked up and down between two puncheons 
 of rum which stood at the distance of a quarter-deck's length from 
 each other, and both father and daughter were silent. The cap 
 tain had a confused thought or two besides the grief of parting, 
 and Phemie had feelings quite as confused, which were not all 
 made up of sorrow for the loss of her sister. Perhaps the reader 
 will be at the trouble of spelling out their riddles while I try to 
 let him down softly to the catastrophe of my story. 
 
 Without confessing to any ailment whatever, the plump Phemie 
 paled and thinned from the day of her sister's departure. Her 
 spirits, too, seemed to keep her flesh and color company, and at 
 the end of a month the captain was told by one of the good dames 
 of Salem that he had better ask a physician what ailed her. The 
 doctor could make nothing out of it except that she might be 
 fretting for the loss of her sister, and he recommended a change 
 of scene and climate. That day Captain Brown, an old mate of 
 Isaiah's, dropped in to eat a family dinner and say good-by, as he 
 was about sailing in the new schooner Nancy for the Black sea 
 his wife for his only passenger. Of course he would be obliged 
 to drop anchor at Constantinople to wait for a fair wind up the 
 Bosphorus, and part of his errand was to offer to take letters and 
 nicknackeries to Mrs. Keui. Old Picklin put the two things to 
 gether, and over their glass of wine he proposed to Brown to take 
 Phemie with Mrs. Brown to Constantinople, leave them both 
 'there on a visit to Mrs. Keui, till the return of the Nancy from 
 the Black sea, and then re-embark them for Salem. Phemie
 
 108 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 came into the room just as they were touching glasses on the 
 agreement, and when the trip was proposed to her she first color 
 ed violently, then grew pale and burst into tears ; but consented 
 to go. And, with such preparations as she could make that even 
 ing, she was quite ready at the appointed hour, and was off with 
 tho land-breeze the next morning, taking leave of nobody but her 
 father. And this time the old man wiped his eyes very often be 
 fore the departing vessel was " hull down," and was heartily sorry 
 he had let Phetuie go without a great many presents and a great 
 many more kisses. * * * * 
 
 A fine, breezy morning at Constantinople ! 
 
 llapidly down the Bosphorus phot the caique of Hassan Koui, 
 bearing its master from his country-house at Dolma-batchi to his 
 warehouses at Galata. Just before the sharp prow rounded away 
 toward the Golden Horn, the merchant motioned to the caikjis to 
 rest upon their oars, and, standing erect in the slender craft, he 
 strained his gaze long and with anxious earnestness toward the 
 sea of Marmora. Not a sail was to be seen coming from the west, 
 except a man-of-war with a crescent flag at the peak, lying off 
 toward Scutari from Seraglio point, and with a sigh that carried 
 the cloud off his brow, Hassan gayly squatted once more to his 
 cushions, and the caique sped merrily on. In and out, among 
 the vessels at anchor, the 'airy bark threaded her way with the 
 dexterous swiftness of a bird, when suddenly a cable rose beneath 
 her and lifted her half out of the water. A vessel newly-arrived 
 was hauling in to a close anchorage, and they had crossed her 
 hawser as it rose to the surface. Pitched headlong into the lap 
 of the nearest caikji, the Turk's snowy turban fell into the water 
 and was carried by th e eddy under the stern of the vessel round 
 ing to, and as the caique was .driven backward to regain it, the
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 109 
 
 bareheaded owner sank back aghast SIMPLE SUSAN OF SALEM 
 stariHg him in Jhe face in golden capitals. 
 
 " Oh! Mr Keui ! how do you do ! ? ' cried a well-remembered 
 voice, as he raised himself to fend off by the rudder of the brig. 
 And there she stood within two feet of his lips Miss PickJin in 
 her bridal veil, waiting below in expectant modesty, and though 
 surprised by his peep into the cabin windows, excusing it as a 
 natural impatience in a bridegroom coming to his bride. 
 
 The captain of the Susan, meantime, had looked over the taf- 
 ferel and recognized his old passenger, and Hassan, who would 
 have given a cargo of opium for an hour to compose himself, 
 mounted the ladder which was thrown out to him, and stepped 
 from the gangway into Miss Picklin's arms ! She had rushed up 
 to receive him, dressed in her muslin kirtle and satin trowsers, 
 though, with her dramatic sense of propriety, she had intended to 
 remain below till summoned to the bridal. The captain, of course, 
 kept back from delicacy, but the missionaries stood in a cluster 
 gazing on the happy meeting, and the sailors looked over their 
 shoulders as they heaved at tho windlass. As Miss Picklin after 
 ward remarked, " it would have been a tableau vivant if the deck 
 had not been so very dirty !" 
 
 Hassan wiped his eyes, for he had replaced his wet turban on 
 his head, but what with his escape from drowning, and what with 
 his surprise and embarrassment (for he had a difficult part to play, 
 as the reader will presently understand), he had lost all memory 
 of his little stock of English. Miss Picklin drew him gently by 
 the hand to the quarter-deck, where, under an awning fringed 
 with curtains partly drawn, stood a table with a loaf of wedding- 
 cake upon it, and a bottle of wine and -a bible. She nodded to 
 the Rev. Mfc Griffin, who took hold of a chair and turned it
 
 HO FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 round, and placing it against his legs with the back toward him, 
 looked steadfastly at the happy couple. 
 
 " Good morning good night your sister aspetta ! per <??<//' 
 di Dlo /" cried the bewildered Hassan, giving utterance to all the 
 English he could remembor, and seizing the bride by the arm. 
 
 " These ladies are my bridesmaids," said Miss Picklin, point 
 ing to tlie missionaries' wives who stood by in their bonnets and 
 shawls. " I dare say he expected my sister would come as my 
 bridesmaid !" she added, turning to Mr Griffin to explain the 
 outbreak as she understood it. 
 
 Hassan beat his hand upon his forehead, walked .twice up and 
 down the quarterdeck, looked around over the Golden Horn as if 
 in search of an interpreter to his feelings, and finally walked up 
 to Miss Picklin with a look of calm resignation, and addressed to 
 her and to the Rev. Mr. Griffin a speech of three minutes, in Ita 
 lian. At the close of it he made a very ceremonious salaam, and 
 offered his hand to the bride ; and, as no one present understood 
 a syllable of what he had intended to convey in his address, it 
 was received as probably a welcome to Turkey, or perhaps a for 
 mal repetition cf his offer of heart and hand. At any rate, Miss 
 Picklin took it to be high time to blush and take off her glove, 
 and the Rev. Mr. Griffin then bent across the back of the chair, 
 joined their hands and went through the ceremony, ring and all. 
 The ladies came up, one after another, and kissed the bride, and 
 the gentlemen shook hands with Hassan, who received their good 
 wishes with a curious look of unhappy resignation, and after cut 
 ting the cake and permitting the bride to retire for a moment to 
 calm her feelings and put on her bonnet, the bridegroom made 
 rather a peremptory movement of departure, and the happy cou 
 ple went off in the caique toward Dolma-batchi amid much waving
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. HI 
 
 of handkerchiefs from the missionaries, and hurrahs from the Sa 
 lem hands of the Simple Susan. 
 
 And now, before giving the reader a translation of the speech 
 of Hassan before the wedding, we must go back to some little 
 events which had taken place one month previously at Constan 
 tinople. 
 
 The Nancy arrived off Seraglio Point after a very remarkable 
 passage, having still on her quarter the northwest breeze which 
 had stuck to her like a bloodhound ever since leaving the harbor 
 of Salem. She had brought it with her to Constantinople 
 indeed, for twenty or thirty vessels which had been long waiting 
 a favorable wind to encounter the adverse current of the Bosplio- 
 rus, were loosing sail and getting under way, and the pilot, 
 knowing that the destination of the Nancy was also to the Black 
 sea, strongly dissuaded Captain Brown from dropping anchor in 
 the Horn, with a chance of losing the good luck, and lying, per 
 haps a month, wind-bound in harbor. Understanding that the 
 captain's only object in stopping was to leave the two ladies with 
 Kcui the opium-merchant, the pilot, who knew his residence at 
 Dolma-batchi, made signal for a caique, and kept up the Bospbo- 
 rus. Arriving opposite the little village of which Hassan's 
 house was one of the chief ornaments, the ladies were lowered 
 into the caique and sent ashore expecting of course to be 
 received with open arms by Mrs. Keui and then, spreading all 
 her canvass, the swift little schooner sped on her way to Trebi- 
 sond. 
 
 Hassan sat in the little pavilion of his house which looked out 
 on the Bosphorus, eating his pillau, for it was the noon of a holy- 
 day, and he had not been that morning to Galata. Recognizing 
 at once the sweet face of Phemie as the caique came near the
 
 112 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 shore, he flew to meet her, supposing that the " Simple Susan" 
 had arrived, and that the lady of his love had chosen to come 
 and seek him. The reader will understand of course, that there 
 was no " Mrs. Keui." 
 
 And now to shorten my story. 
 
 Mrs. Brown and Phemie w'ere in Hassan's own house, with no 
 other acquaintance or protector on that side of the world, and 
 there was no possibility of .escaping a true explanation. The 
 mistake was explained, and explained to Brown's satisfaction. 
 Phemie was the " daughter" of Captain Picklin, to whom the 
 offer was transmitted, and as, by blessed luck, the Nancy had 
 outsailed the Simple Susan, Providence seemed to have chosen to 
 set right for once, the traverse of true love. The English 
 embassy was at Burgurlu, only six miles above, on the Bospbo- 
 rus, and Hassan and his mother and sisters, and Mrs. Brown and 
 Phemie were soon on their way thither in swift caiques, and the 
 happy couple were wedded by the English chaplain. The arrival 
 of the Simple Susan was of course looked for, by both Hassan 
 and his bride, with no little dismay. She had met with contrary 
 winds on the Atlantic, and had been caught in the Archipelago 
 by a Levanter, and from the damage of the last she had been 
 obliged to come to anchor off the -little island of Paros and repair. 
 This had been a job of six weeks, and meantime the Nancy had 
 given them the go-by, and reached Constantinople. 
 
 Hassan was daily on the look-out for the brig in his trips to 
 town, and on the morning of her arrival, his mind being put at 
 ease for the day by his glance toward the sea of Marmora, the 
 stumbling so suddenly and so unprepared on the object of his 
 dread, completely bewildered and unnerved him. Through all 
 his confusion, however, and all the awkwardness of his situation,
 
 THE WIDOW BY BREVET. 
 
 there ran a feeling of self-condemnation, as well as pity for Miss 
 Picklin ; and this had driven him to the catastrophe described 
 above. He felt that he owed her some reparation, and as the 
 religion in which he was educated did not forbid a plurality of 
 wives, . and there was no knowing but possibly she might be 
 inclined to " do in Turkey as Turkeys do," he felt it incumbent 
 on himself to state the fact of his previous marriage, and then 
 offer her the privilege of becoming Mrs. Keui No. 2, if she chose 
 to accept. As he had no English at his command, he stated his 
 dilemma and made his offer in the best language he had Italian 
 and with the results the reader has been made acquainted. 
 
 Of the return passage of Miss Picklin, formerly Mrs. Keui, 
 under the charge of Captain and Mrs. Brown, in the schooner 
 Nancy, I have never learned the particulars. She arrived at 
 Salem in very good health, however, and has since been distin 
 guished principally by her sympathy for widows based on what, 
 I cannot very positively say. She resides at present in Salem 
 with her father, Captain Picklin, who is still the consignee of the 
 house of Keui, having made one voyage out to see the children 
 of his daughter Phemie and strengthen the mercantile connexion. 
 His old age is creeping on him, undistinguished by anything 
 except the little monomania of reading the letters from his son- 
 in-law at least a hundred times, and then wafering them up over 
 the fireplace of his counting-room in doubt, apparently, whether 
 he .rightly understands the contents.
 
 OR, THE STRANGE ROAD TO THE HEART OF MR. HYPOLET 
 LEATHERS. 
 
 Now, Heaven rest the Phoenicians for their pleasant invention 
 of tho, art of travel. 
 
 This is to be a story of love and pride, and the hero's name ia 
 ITypolet Leathers. 
 
 You have smiled prematurely, my friend and reader, if you 
 " tliink you see " Mr. Leathers foreshadowed, as it were, in his 
 name. 
 
 (Three mortal times have I mended this son of a goose of a 
 pon, and it will not as you see by the three unavailing attempts 
 recorded above it will not commence, for me, this tale, with a 
 practicable beginning.) 
 
 The sun was rising (I think this promises well) leisurely rising 
 was the sun on the opposite side of the Susquehannah. The tall 
 corn endeavored to lift its silk tassel out of the sloppy fog that 
 had taken upon itself to rise from the water and prognosticate a 
 hot fair day, and the driver of the Binghamton stage drew over
 
 NORA MEHIDY. H5 
 
 his legs a two-bushel bag as he cleared the street of the village, 
 and thought that, for a summer's morning, it was " very cold " 
 wholly unaware, however, that, in murmuring thus, he was ex 
 pressing himself as Hamlet did while waiting for his father's 
 ghost upon the platform. 
 
 Inside the coach were three passengers. A gentleman sat by 
 the window on the middle seat, with his cloak over his lap, watch 
 ing the going to heaven of the fog that had fulfilled its destiny. 
 His mind was melancholy partly for the contrast he could not 
 but draw between this exemplary vapor and himself, who was 
 "but a vapor,"* and partly that his pancreas began to apprehend 
 some interruption of the thoroughfare above or, in other words, 
 that he was hungry for his breakfast, having gone supperless to 
 bed. He mused as he rode. He was a young man, about twen 
 ty-five, and had inherited from his father, John Leathers, a gen 
 tleman's fortune, with the two drawbacks of a name troublesome 
 to Phoebus (" Phoebus! what a name !"), and premature gray 
 hair. He was, in all other respects, a finished and well-condi 
 tioned hero tall, comely, courtly, and accomplished and- had 
 seen the sight-worthy portions of the world, and knew their dif 
 ferences. Travel, indeed, had become a kind of diseased neces 
 sity with him for he fled from the knowledge of his name, and 
 from the observation of his gray hair, like a man fleeing from 
 two fell phantoms. He was now returning from Niagara, and 
 left the Mohawk route to see where the Susquehannah makes its 
 Great Bend in taking final leave of Mr. Cooper, who lives above ; 
 
 * " Man's but a vapor, 
 
 Full of woes, 
 Cuts a caper, 
 
 And down he goes." Familiar Ballads.
 
 H6 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 and at the village of the Great Bend he was to eat that day's 
 breakfast. 
 
 On the hack seat, upon the leather cushion, behind Mr. Lea 
 thers, sat two other chilly persons, a middle-aged man and a girl 
 of sixteen the latter with her shawl drawn close to her arms, 
 and her dark eyes bent upon her knees, as if to warm them (as 
 unquestionably they did). Her black curls swung out from her 
 bonnet, like ripe grapes from the top of an arbor heavy, slum 
 berous, bulky, prodigal black curls oh, how beautiful ! And I 
 
 do not know that it would be a " trick worth an egg " to make 
 
 i 
 any mystery of these two persons. The gentleman was John 
 
 Mehidy, the widowed tailor of Binghamton, and the lady was 
 Nora Mehidy, his daughter ; and they were on their way to New 
 York to change the scene, Mrs. Mehidy having left the painful 
 legacy of love her presence behind her. For, ill as he could 
 afford the journey, Mr. Mehidy thought the fire of Nora's dark 
 eyes might be put out with water, and he must go where every 
 patch and shred would not set her a weeping. She " took it 
 hard," as they describe grief for the dead in the country. 
 
 The Great Bend is a scene you may look at with pleasure, 
 even while waiting for procrastinated prog, and Hypolet Leathers 
 had been standing for ten minutes on the high bank around which 
 the Susquehannah sweeps, like a train of silver tissue after a 
 queen turning a corner, when passed him suddenly tripped Nora 
 Mehidy bonnetless, and stood gazing on the river from the outer 
 edge of the precipice. Leathers' visual consciousness dropped 
 into that mass of clustering hair like a ring into the sea, and dis 
 appeared. His soul dived after it, and left him with no sense or 
 remembrance of how his outer orbs were amusing themselves. 
 Of what unpatented texture of velvet, and of what sifting of dia-
 
 NORA MEHIDY. 
 
 in 
 
 niond dust were those lights and shadows manufactured ! What 
 immeasurable thickness in those black flakes compared, with all 
 locks that he had ever seen, as an edge of cocoa-meat, fragrantly 
 and newly broken, to a torn leaf, limp with wilting. Nora stood 
 motionless, absorbed in the incomparable splendor of that silver 
 hook bent into the forest Leathers as motionless, absorbed in 
 her wilderness of jetty locks till the barkeeper rang the bell for 
 them to come to breakfast. Ah, Hypolet ! Hypolet ! what dark 
 thought came to share, with that innocent beefsteak, your morn 
 ing's digestion ! 
 
 That tailors have, and why they have, the handsomest daugh 
 ters, in all countries, have been points of observation and specu 
 lation for physiology, written and unwritten. Most men know 
 the fact. Some writers have ventured to guess at the occult se 
 cret. But I think " it needs 'no ghost, come from the grave,'' to 
 unravel the matter. Their vocation is the embellishment part 
 ly indeed the creation of material beauty. If philosophy sit on 
 their shears (as it should ever), there are questions to decide 
 which discipline the sense of beauty the degree in which fashion 
 should be sacrificed to becomingness, and the resistance to the 
 invasion of the poetical by whim and usage, for example and as 
 a man thinketh to a certain degree so is his daughter. Beau 
 ty is the business-thought of every day, and the desire to know 
 how best to remedy its defects is the ache and agony of the tailor's 
 soul, if he be ambitious. Why should not this have its exponent 
 on the features of the race, as other strong emotions have plas 
 tic and malleable as the human body is, by habit and practice. 
 Shakspere, by-the-way, says 
 
 'Tis use that breeds a liabit in a man,
 
 113 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 aud I own to the dulncss of never till now apprehending that this 
 remarkable passage typifies the stepping of superfine broadcloth 
 (made into superfine halits) into the woof and warp of the tailor's 
 idiosyncracy. Q. E. D. 
 
 Xora Mehidy had ways with her that, if the world had not been 
 thrown into a muss by Eve and Adam, would doubtless have been 
 kept for queens. Leathers was particularly struck with her never 
 lifting up her eyelids till shwas ready. ]f she chanced to be 
 looking thoughtfully down when, he spoke to her, which was her 
 habit of sadness just now, she heard what he had to say and 
 commenced replying and then, slowly, up went the lids, comb 
 ing the loving air with their long lashes, and no more hurried 
 than the twilight taking its fringes off the stars. It was adorable 
 altogether adorable ! And her hands and lips, and feet and 
 shoulders, had the same contemptuous and delicious deliberate- 
 ness. 
 
 On the second evening, at half past five just half an hour too 
 late for the " Highlander " steamer the " Binghamton stage " 
 slid down the mountain into Newburgh, The next boat was to 
 touch at the pier at midnight, and Leathers had six capacious 
 hours to work on the mind of John Mehidy. What was the pro 
 cess of that fiendish temptation, what the lure and the resistance, 
 is a secret locked up with Moloch but it was successful ! The 
 glorious c/tecelure. of the victim (sweet descriptive word chei-f- 
 lure !) the matchless locks that the matchlocks of armies should, 
 have defended went down in the same boat with Xora Mehidy, 
 but tied up in Mr. Leathers' linen pocket-handkerchief ! And, 
 in one week from that day, the head of Hypolet Leathers was 
 fchaven nude, and the black cuvls of Nora Mehidy were placed 
 upon its irritated organs in an incomparable WIG ! !
 
 NORA MEHIDY. 119 
 
 A year had elapsed. It was a warm day, in No. 77 of the As- 
 tor, and Hypolet Leathers, . Esq., arrived a week before by the 
 Great Western, sat aiding the evaporation from his brain by lotions 
 of iced lavender. His wig stood before him, on the blockhead that 
 was now his inseparable, companion, the back toward him ; and 
 as the wind chased off the volatile lavender from the pores of his 
 skull, he toyed thoughtfully with the lustrous curls of Nora Me 
 hidy. His heart was on that woodenjblock ! He dressed his own 
 wig habitually, and by dint of perfuming, combing, and caressing 
 those finger-like ringlets he had tangled up his heart in their 
 meshes. A phantom, with the superb face of the owner, stayed 
 with the separated locks, and it grew hourly more palpable and 
 controlling. The sample had made him sick at heart for the 
 remainder. He wanted the rest of Nora Mehidy. He had come 
 over for her. He had found John Mehidy, following his trade 
 obscurely in a narrow lane, and he had asked for Nora's /tand. 
 But though this was not the whole of his daughter, and he had 
 already sold part of her to Leathers, he shook his head over his 
 shiny shears. Even if N^ra could be propitiated after the sacri 
 fice she had made (which he did not believe she could be), he 
 would as lief put her in the world of spirits as in a world above 
 him. She was his life, and he would not give his life willingly to 
 a stranger who would take it from him, or make it too fine for his 
 u?ing. Oh, no ! Nora must marry a tailor, if she marry at all 
 and this was the adamantine resolution, stern and without appeal, 
 of John Mehidy. % 
 
 Some six weeks after this, a new tailoring establishment of 
 great -outlay and magnificence was opened in Broadway. The 
 bhow-window was like a new revelation of stuff for trowsers, and 
 resplendent, but not gaudy, were the neckcloths and waistcoatings
 
 120 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 for absolute taste reigned over all. There was not au article 
 on show possible to William street oiot a waistcoat that, seen iu 
 Maiden lane, would not have been as unsphered as the Lost 
 Pleiad in Botany Bay. It was quite clear that there was some 
 one of the firm of "Mehidy & Co." (the new sign) who exercised 
 his taste " from within, out," as the Germans say of the process 
 of true poetry. He began inside a gentleman, that is to say, to 
 guess at what was wanted for a gentleman's outside. He was a 
 tailor-gentleman, and was therefore, and by that quality only, fit 
 ted to be a gentleman's tailor. 
 
 The dandies flocked to Mehidy & Co. They could not be 
 measured immediately oh no ! The gentleman to be built was 
 requested to walk about the shop for a half hour, till the foreman 
 got him well in his eye, and then to call again in a week. Mean 
 time he would mark his customer in the street, to see how he 
 performed. Mehidy & Co. never ventured to take measure for 
 terra incognita. The man's gait, shrug, speed, style, and qual 
 ity, were all to be allowed for, and these were not seen in a min 
 ute. And a very* sharp and stylish looking fellow seemed that 
 foreman to be. There was evidently spoiled some very capable 
 stuff for a lord when he was made a tailor. 
 
 " His leaf, 
 
 By some o'er hasty angel, was misplaced 
 In Fate's eternal volume." 
 
 And, faith ! it was a study to see him take a customer's measure ! 
 The quiet contempt with which he overruled the man's indigenous 
 idea of a coat ! the rather satirical comments on his peculiarities 
 of wearing his kerseymere ! the cool survey of the adult to be 
 embellished, as if he were inspecting him for admission to the
 
 NORA MEHIDY. 121 
 
 grenadiers ! On the whole, it was a nervous business to be meas 
 ured for a coat by that fellow with the devilish fine head of black 
 hair ! 
 
 And, with the hair upon./fo's head, from which Nora had ouce 
 no secrets with the curls upon his cheek and temples which had 
 once slumbered peacefully over hers, Hypolet Leathers, the fore 
 man of "Mehidy & Co.," made -persevering love to the tailor's 
 magnificent daughter. For she was magnificent ! She had just 
 taken that long stride from girl to woman, and her person had 
 filled out to the imperial and voluptuous model indicated by her 
 deliberate eyes. With a dusky glow in her cheek, that looked 
 like a peach teinted by a rosy twilight, her mouth, up to tho 
 crimson edge of its bow of Cupid, was moulded with the slum 
 berous fairness of newly wrought sculpture, and gloriously beau 
 tiful in expression. She was a creature for whom a butterfly 
 might do worm over again to whose condition in life, if need bo, 
 a prince might proudly come down- Ah, queenly Nora MeliiJy ! 
 
 But the wooing alas ! the wooing throve slowly ! Tnat love 
 ly head was covered again with prodigal locks, in short and mas 
 sive clusters, but Leathers was pertinacious as to his property id 
 the wig, and its becomingness and indispensableness and to be 
 made love to by a man in her own hair ! to be obliged to keep 
 her own dark curls at a respectful distance ! to forbid all inter 
 course between them and their children-ringlets, as it were it 
 roughened the course of Leather's true love that Nora must 
 needs be obliged to reason on such singular dilemmas. For, 
 though a tailor's daughter, she had been furnished by nature with 
 an imagination ! 
 
 But virtue, if nothing more and no sooner, is its own reward, 
 and in time " to save its bacon." John Mchidy's fortune was 
 6
 
 122 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 pretty well assured in the course of two years, and made, in bis 
 own line, by his proposed son-in-law, and he could no longer re 
 fuse to throw into the scale the paternal authority. Nora's hair 
 was, by this time, too, restored to ks pristine length and luxur- 
 iousness, and, on condition that Ilypolet would not exact a new 
 wig from his new possessions, Nora, one summer's night, made 
 over to him the remainder. The long exiled locks revisited their 
 natal soil, during the caresses which sealed the compact, and a 
 very good tailor was spoiled the week after, for the married 
 Leathers became once more a gentleman at large, having bought, 
 in two instalments, at an expense of a hundred dollars, a heart, 
 and two years of service, one of the finest properties of which 
 Heaven and a gold ring ever gave mortal the copyhold ! -
 
 THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS, 
 
 (THE OUTLINE FROM A. FRENCH MEMOIR.) 
 
 I INTRODUCE you at once to the Marquis de la Chetardie a 
 diplomatist who figured largely in the gay age of Louis XV. and 
 the story is but one of the illuminated pages of the dark book of 
 diplomacy. 
 
 Charles de la Chetardie appeared for the first time to the eyes 
 of the king at a masquerade ball, given at Versailles, under the 
 auspices of la Idle Pompadour. He was dressed as a young lady 
 of high rank, making her debut ; and, so perfect was his acting, 
 and the deception altogether, that Louis became enamored of the 
 ifcsguised marquis, and violently excited the jealousy of " Ma 
 dame," by his amorous attentions. An eclair cissement, of course, 
 took place, and the result was a great partiality for the marquis's 
 society, and his subsequent employment, in and out of petticoats, 
 in many a scheme of state diplomacy and royal amusement. 
 
 La Chetardie was at this time just eighteen. He was very 
 slight, and had remarkably small hands and feet, and the radiant 
 fairness of his skin and the luxuriant softness of his profuse 
 chestnut curls, might justly have been the envy of the most 
 delicate woman. He was, at first, subjected to some ridicule for
 
 124 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 his effeminacy, but the merry courtiers were soon made aware, 
 that, under this velvet fragility lay concealed the strength and 
 ferocity of the tiger. The grasp of his small hand was like an 
 iron vice, and his singular activity, and the cool courage which 
 afterward gave him a brilliant career on the battle-field, estab 
 lished him, in a very short time, as the most formidable swords 
 man of the court. His ferocity, however, lay deeply concealed 
 in his character, and, unprovoked, he was the gayest aud most 
 brilliant of merry companions. 
 
 This was the age of occult and treacherous diplomacy, and the 
 court of Russia, where Louis would fain have exercised an influence 
 (private as well as political in its results), was guarded by an 
 implacable Argus, in the person of the prime minister, Bestu- 
 cheff. Aided by Sir Hambury Williams, the English ambassador, 
 one of the craftiest men of that crafty period, he had succeeded 
 fur some years in defeating every attempt at access to the 
 imperial ear by the secret emissaries of France. The sudden 
 appearance of La Chetardie, his cool self-command, and his 
 successful personation of a female, suggested a new hope to tho 
 king, however ; and, called to Versailles by royal mandate, the 
 young marquis was taken into cabinet confidence, and a secret 
 mission to St. Petersburgh, in petticoats, proposed to him and 
 accepted. 
 
 With his instructions and secret dispatches stitched into his 
 corsets, and under the ostensible protection of a scientific man, 
 who was to present him to the tzarine as a Mademoiselle de 
 Beaumont, desirous of entering the service of Elizabeth, the 
 marquis reached St. Petersburgh without accident or adventure. 
 The young lady's guardian requested an audience through Bestu- 
 cheff, and having delivered the open letters recommending her
 
 THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS. 
 
 for her accomplishments to the imperial protection, he begged 
 leave to continue on his scientific tour to the central regions of 
 Russia. 
 
 Conge was immediately granted, and on the disappearance of 
 the savant, and before the departure of Bestucheff, the tzarine 
 threw off all ceremony, and pinching the cheeks and imprinting 
 a kiss on the forehead of the beautiful stranger, appointed her, 
 by one of those sudden whims of preference against which her 
 ministers had so much trouble to guard, lectrice intime et particit- 
 liere in short, confidential personal attendant. The blushes of 
 the confused marquis, who was unprepared for so affectionate a 
 reception, served rather to heighten the diaguise, and old 
 Bestucheff bowed himself out with a compliment to the beauty 
 of Mademoiselle de Beaumont, veiled in a diplomatic congratula 
 tion to her imperial mistress. 
 
 Elizabeth was forty and a little passee, but she still had pre 
 tensions, and was particularly fond of beauty in her attendants, 
 female as well as male. Her favorite, of her personal suite, 
 at the time" of the arrival of the marquis, was an exquisite 
 little creature who had been sent to her, as a compliment to'ftiis 
 particular taste, by the Dutchess of Mecklenberg-Strelitz a kind 
 of German " Fenella," or " Mignon," by the name of Nadege 
 Stein. Not much below the middle size, Nadege was a model of 
 symmetrical proportion, and of very extraordinary beauty. She 
 had been carefully educated for her present situation,, and was 
 highly accomplished ; a fine reader, and a singularly sweet 
 musician and dancer. Tho tzarine's passion for this lovely 
 attendant was excessive, and the arrival of a new favorite of the 
 same sex was looked upon with some pleasure by the eclipsed 
 remainder of the palace idlers.
 
 126 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Elizabeth summoned Xadege, and committed Mademoiselle de 
 Beaumont temporarily to her charge ; but the same mysterious 
 magnetism which had reached the heart of the tzarine, seemed to 
 kindle, quite as promptly, the affections of her attendant. 
 Nadege was no sooner alone with her new friend, than she 
 jumped to her neck, smothered her with kisses, cajled her by 
 every endearing epithet, and overwhelmed her with questions, 
 mingled with the most childlike exclamations of wonder at her 
 own inexplicable love for a stranger. In an hour she had shown 
 to the new demoiselle all the contents of the little boudoir in 
 which she lived ; talked to her of her loves and hates at the 
 Russian court ; of her home in Mecklenberg, and her present 
 situation in short, poured out her heart with the naif abandon 
 of a child. The young marquis had never seen so lovely a crea 
 ture ; and, responsibly as he felt his difficult and delicate situa 
 tion, he returned the affection so innocently lavished upon him, 
 and by the end of this first fatal hour, was irrecoverably in love. 
 And, gay as his life had been at the French court, it was the first 
 and subsequently proved to be the deepest passion of 1 his life. 
 
 On the tzarine's return to her private apartment, she summon 
 ed her new favorite, and superintended, with condescending solic 
 itude, the arrangements for her palace lodging. Nadege inhabit 
 ed a small tower adjoining the bedroom of her mistress, and above 
 this was an unoccupied room, which, at the present suggestion of 
 the fairy little attendant, was allotted to the new-comer. The 
 staircase opened by one door into the private gardens, and by the 
 opposite, into the corridor leading immediately to the imperial 
 chamber. The marquis's delicacy would fain have made some 
 objection to this very intimate location ; but he could hazard no 
 thing against the interests of his sovereign, and he trusted to a
 
 'rHE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS. 
 
 speedy termination of his disguise with the attainment of hia 
 object. Meantime, the close neighborhood of the fair Nadege 
 was not the most intolerable of necessities. 
 
 The marquis's task was a very difficult one. He was instruct 
 ed, before abandoning his disguise and delivering his secret 
 despatches, to awaken the interest of the tzarine on the two sub 
 jects to which the documents had reference : viz., a former par 
 tiality of her majesty for Louis, and a formerly discussed project 
 of seating the Prince de Conti on the throne of Poland". Bestu- 
 cheff had so long succeeded in cutting off all approach of these 
 topics to the ear of the tzarine, that 'her majesty had probably 
 forgotten them altogether. 
 
 Weeks passed and the opportunities to broach these delicate 
 subjects had been inauspiciously rare. Mademoiselle de Beau 
 mont, it is true, had completely eclipsed the favorite Nadege ; 
 and Elizabeth, in her hours of relaxation from state affairs, 
 exacted the constant attendance of the new favorite in her pri 
 vate apartments. But the almost constant presence of some 
 other of the maids of honor, opposed continual obstacles and in 
 terruptions, and the tzarine herself was not always disposed to 
 talk of matters more serious than the current trifles of the hour. 
 She was extremely indolent in her personal habits ; and often 
 reclining at length upon cushions on the floor of her boudoir, she 
 laid her imperial head in the lap of the embarrassed demoiselle, 
 and was soothed to sleep by reading and the bathing of her tem 
 ples. And during this period, she exacted frequently of the mar 
 quis, with a kind of instinctive mistrust, promises of continuance 
 for life in her personal service. 
 
 But there were sweeter hours for the enamored La Chetardic 
 than those passed in the presence of his partial and imperial
 
 j-23 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 mistress. Encircled by sentinels, and guarded from all intrusion 
 of other eyes, in the inviolable sanctuary of royalty, tbe beauti 
 ful Nadege, impassioned, she knew not why, in her love* for her 
 new companion, was ever within call, and happy in devoting to 
 him all her faculties of caressing endearment. He had not yet 
 dared to risk the interests of his sovereign by a disclosure of his 
 sex, oven in the confidence of love. He could not trust Nadege 
 to play so difficult apart as that of possessor of so embarrassing 
 a secret in the presence of the shrewd and observing tzarine. A 
 betrayal, too, would at once put an end to his happiness. W ith 
 the slight arm of the fair' and relying creature about his waist, 
 and her head pressed close against his breast, they passed the 
 balmy nights of 'the Russian summer in pacing the flowery alleys 
 of the imperial garden, discoursing, with but one reserve, on 
 every subject that floated to their lips. It required, however, all 
 the self-control of La Chetardie, and all the favoring darkness of 
 the night, to conceal his smiles at the naive confessions of the 
 unconscious girl, and her wonderings at the peculiarity of her 
 feelings. She had thought, hitherto, that there were affections in 
 her nature which could only be called forth by a lover. Yet 
 now, the thought of caressing another than her friend of repeat 
 ing to any human ear, least of all to a man, those new-born vows 
 of love filled her with alarm and horror. She felt that she had 
 given her heart irrevocably away and to a woman ! Ali, with 
 what delirious, though silent passion, La Chetardie drew her to 
 his bosom, and with the pressure of his lips upon hers, interrupt 
 ed those sweet confessions ! 
 
 Yet the time at last drew near for the waking from this celes 
 tial 'bream. The disguised diplomatist had found his o'pportunity, 
 and had successfully awakened in Elizabeth's mind both curiosity
 
 THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS. 129 
 
 and interest as to the subjects of the despatches still sewed safely 
 in his corsets. There remained nothing for him now but to seize 
 a favorable opportunity, and, with the delivery of his missives, to 
 declare his sex to the tzarine. There waj( risk to life and liberty 
 in this, but the marquis knew not fear, and he thought but of its 
 consequences to his love. 
 
 In La Chetardie's last interview with the savant who conduct 
 ed him to Russia, his male attire had been successfully transfer 
 red from one portmanteau to the other, and it was now in his 
 possession, ready for the moment of need. With his plans 
 brought to within a single night of the denouement, he parted 
 from the tzarine, having asked the imperial permission for an 
 hour's private interview on the morrow, and, with gentle force 
 .excluding Nadege from his apartment, he dressed himself in his 
 proper costume, and cut open the warm envelope of his despatch 
 es. This done, he threw his cloak over him, and, with a dark 
 lantern in his hand, sought Nadege in the garden. He had 
 determined to disclose himself to her, renew his vows of love in 
 his proper guise, and arrange, while he had access and oppor;u- 
 city, some means for uniting their destinies hereafter. 
 
 As he opened the door of the turret, Nadege flew up the stair 
 to meet him, and observing the cloak in the faint glimmer of the 
 stars, she playfully endeavored to envelope herself in it. But 
 seizing her hands, La Chetardie turned and glided backward, 
 drawing her after him toward a small pavilion in the remoter part 
 of the garden. Here they had never been interrupted, the 
 empress alone having the power to intrude upon them, and La 
 Chetardie felt safe in devoting this place and time to the double 
 disclosure -of his secret and his suppressed passion. 
 
 Persuading her with difficulty to desist from putting her arms 
 6*
 
 130 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 about Mm and sit down without a caress, he retreated a few steps, 
 and in the darkness of the pavilion, shook down his imprisoned 
 locks to their masculine abandon, threw off his cloak, and drew 
 up the blind of his lantern. The scream of surprise, which 
 instantly parted from the lips of Nadege, made him regret his 
 imprudence in not having prepared her for the transformation, 
 but her second thought was mirth, for she could believe it of 
 course to be nothing but a playful masquerade ; and with delight- 
 laughter she sprang to his neck, and overwhelmed him with 
 her kisses another voice, however, joining very unexpectedly in 
 the laughter ! 
 
 The empress stood before them ! 
 
 For an instant, with all his self-possession, La Chetardie was 
 confounded and dismayed. Siberia, the knout, the scaffold, flit 
 ted before his eyes, and Nadege was the sufferer ! But X glance 
 at the face of the tzarine reassured him. She, too, took it for a 
 girlish masquerade 
 
 But the empress, unfortunately, was not disposed to have a 
 partner in her enjoyment of the society of this new apparition of 
 " hose and doublet." She ordered Nadege to her turret, with 
 one of those petulant commands which her attendants understood 
 to admit of no delay, and while the eclipsed favorite disappeared 
 with the tears of unwilling submission in her soft eyes, La Che 
 tardie looked after her with the anguish of eternal separation at 
 his heart, for a presentiment crowded irresistibly upon him that 
 he should never see her more ! 
 
 The empress was in slippers and robe de nuit, and, as if fate 
 had determined that this well-kept secret should not survive the 
 hour, her majesty laid her arm within that of her supposed mas- 
 querader, and led the way to the palace. She was wakeful, and
 
 THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS. 131 
 
 wished to be read to sleep. "And, with many a compliment to 
 the beauty of her favorite in male attire, and many a playful 
 caress, she arrived at the door of her chamber. 
 
 But the marquis could go no farther. He had hitherto been 
 spared the embarrassment of passing this sacred threshold, for 
 the passee empress had secrets of toilet for the embellishment of 
 her person, which she trusted, only to the eyes of an antiquated 
 attendant. La Chetardie had never passed beyond the boudoir 
 which was between the antechamber and the bed-room, and the 
 time had come for the disclosure of his secret. He fell on his 
 knees and announced himself a man ! 
 
 Fortunately they were alone. Incredulous at first, the em 
 press listened to his asseverations, however, with more amusement 
 than displeasure, and the immediate delivery of the despatches, 
 with the commendations of the disguised ambassador by his royal 
 master to the forgiveness and kindness of the empress, amply 
 secured his pardon. But it was on condition that he should 
 resume his disguise and remain in her service. 
 
 Alone in his tower (for Nadege had disappeared, and he knew 
 enough of the cruelty of Elizabeth to dread the consequences to 
 the poor girl of venturing on direct inquiries as to her fate), La 
 Chetardie after a few weeks fell ill ; and fortunate, even at this 
 price, to escape from the silken fetters of the enamored tzarine, 
 he departed under the care of the imperial physician, for the 
 more genial climate of France not without reiterated promises 
 of return, however, and offers, in that event, of unlimited wealth 
 and advancement. 
 
 But, as the marquis made his way slowly toward Viencaj a 
 gleam of light dawned on his sadness. The Princess Sophia 
 Charlotte was newly affianced to George the Third of England,
 
 132 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 and this daughter of the house of Mecklcnberg had been the 
 playmate of Nadege Stein from infancy till the time when 
 Nadege was sent to the tzarine by the Duchess of Mecklenberg. 
 Making a confident of the kind physician who accompanied him, 
 La Chetardie was confirmed, by the good man's better experience 
 and knowledge, in the belief that Nadege had shared the same 
 fate of every female of the court who had ever awakened the 
 jealousy of the empress. She was doubtless exiled to Siberia ; 
 but, as she had committed no voluntary fault, it was probably 
 without other punishment ; and, with a playmate on the throne of 
 England, she might be demanded and recovered ere long, in all 
 her freshness and beauty. Yet the recent fate of the fair 
 Emloxie Lapoukin, who, for an offence but little more distasteful 
 to the tzarine, had been pierced through the tongue with hot iron, 
 whipped with the knout, and exiled for life to Siberia, hung like 
 a cloud of evil augury over his mind. 
 
 The marquis suddenly determined that he would see the 
 affianced princess, and plead with her for her friend, before the 
 splendors of a thrcme should make her inaccessible. The excite 
 ment of this hope had given him new life, and he easily persuaded 
 his attendant, as they entered the gates of Vienna, that he 
 required his attendance no farther. Alone, with his own servants, 
 he resumed his female attire, and directed his course to Meckleu- 
 berg-Strelitz. 
 
 The princess had maintained an intimate correspondence with 
 her playmate up to the time of her betrothal, and the name of 
 Mademoiselle de Beaumont was passport enough. La Chetardie 
 had sent forward his servant, on arriving at the town, in the 
 neighborhood of the ducal residence, and the reply to his missive 
 was brought back by one of the ofiicers in attendance, with orders
 
 THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS. 133 
 
 to conduct the demoiselle to apartments in the castle. He was 
 received with all honor at the palace-gate by a chamberlain in 
 waiting, who led the way to a suite of rooms adjoining those of 
 the princess, where, after being left alone for a few minutes, he 
 was familiarly visited by the betrothed girl, and overwhelmed, as 
 formerly by her friend, with most embarrassing caresses. In the 
 next moment, however, the door was hastily flung open, and 
 Nadege, like a stream of light, fled through the room, hung upon 
 the neck of the speechless and overjoyed marquis, and ended 
 with convulsions of mingled tears and laughter. The moment 
 that he could disengage himself from her arms, La Chetardie 
 requested to be left for a moment alone. He felt the danger and 
 impropriety of longer maintaining his disguise. He closed his 
 door on the unwilling .demoiselles, hastily changed his dress, and, 
 with his sword at his side, entered the adjoining reception-room 
 of the princess, where Mademoiselle de Beaumont was impa 
 tiently awaited. 
 
 The scene which followed, the mingled confusion and joy of 
 Nadege,. the subsequent hilarity and masquerading at the castle, 
 and the particulars of the marriage of the Marquis de la Chetar 
 die to his fair fellow maid-of-honor, must be left to the reader's 
 imagination. We have room only to explain the reappearance of 
 Nadege at Mecklenberg. 
 
 Nadege retired to her turret at the imperative command of the 
 empress, sad and troubled ; but waited wakefully and anxiously 
 for the re-entrance of her disguised companion. In the course 
 of an hour, however, the sound of a sentinel's musket, set down 
 at her door, informed her that she was a prisoner. She knew 
 Elizabeth, and the Duchess of Mecklenberg, with an equal 
 knowledge of the tzarine's character, had provided her with a
 
 134 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 resource against the imperial cruelty, should she have occasion to 
 use it. She crept to the battlements of the tower, and fastened 
 a handkerchief to the side looking over the public square. 
 
 The following morning, at daylight, Nadege was summoned to 
 prepare for a journey, and, in an hour, she was led between 
 soldiers to a carriage at the palace-gate, and departed by the 
 northern egress of the city, with a guard of three mounted Cos 
 sacks. In two hours from that time, the carriage was overtaken, 
 the guard overpowered, and the horses' heads turned in the direc 
 tion of Moscow. After many difficulties and dangers, during 
 which she found herself under the charge of a Mecklenbergian 
 officer in the service of the tzarine, she reached Vienna in safety, 
 and was immediately concealed by her friends in the neighbor 
 hood of the palace at Mecklenberg, to remain hidden till inquiry 
 should be over. The arrival of Mademoiselle de Beaumont, for 
 the loss of whose life or liberty she had incessantly wept with 
 dread and apprehension, was joyfully communicated to her by her 
 friends ; and so the reader knows some of the passages in the 
 early life of the far-famed beauty in thfr-French court in the times 
 of Louis XV. the Marchioness de la Chetardie.
 
 TOM FANE AND I, 
 
 " Common as light is love, 
 And its familiar voice -wearies not ever." 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 TOM FANE'S four Canadian ponies were whizzing his light 
 phaeton through the sand at a rate that would have put spirits 
 into anything but a lover absent from his mistress. The " hea 
 ven-kissing " pines towered on every side like the thousand and 
 one columns of the Palseologi at Constantinople; their flat and 
 spreading tops shutting out the light of heaven almost as effec 
 tually as the world of mussulmans, mosques, kiosks, bazars, and 
 Giaours, sustained on those innumerable capitals, darkens the 
 subterranean wonder of Stamboul. An American pine forest is 
 as like a temple, and a sublime one, as any dream that ever en 
 tered into the architectural brain of the slumbering Martin. Tho 
 Yankee methpdists in their camp-meetings, have but followed an 
 irresistible instinct to worship God in the religious dimness of 
 these interminable aisles of the wilderness. 
 
 Tom Fane and I had stoned the storks together in the palace 
 of Croesus at Sardis. We had read Anastasius on a mufti's tomb 
 in the Nekropolis of Scutari. We had burned with fig-fevers in 
 the same caravanserai at Smyrna. We had cooled our hot fore-
 
 136 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 heads and cursed the Greeks in emulous Romaic in the dim tomb 
 of Agamemnon at Argos. We had been grave at Paris, aud 
 naerry at Rome ; and we had pic-nic'd with the beauties of the 
 Fanar in the Valley of Sweet Waters in pleasant Roumelia ; and 
 when, after parting in France, he had returned to England and 
 his regiment, and I to New England and law, whom should I 
 meet in a summer's trip to the St. Lawrence but Captain Tom 
 
 Fane of the th, quartered at the cliff-perched and doughty 
 
 garrison of Quebec, and ready for any "lark" that would vary 
 the monotony of duty ! 
 
 Having eaten seven mess-dinners, driven to the falls of Mont- 
 morenci, and paid my respects to Lord Dalhousie, the hospitable 
 and able governor of the Canadas, Quebec had no longer a temp 
 tation : and obeying a magnet, of which more anon, I announced 
 to Fane that my traps were packed, and my heart sent on, a 
 f-avant courier, to Saratoga. 
 
 " Is she pretty ?" said Tom. 
 
 " As the starry-eyed Circassian we gazed at through the grill 
 in the slave-market at Constantinople !" (Heaven and my mis 
 tress forgive me for the comparison ! but it conveyed more to 
 Tom Fane than a folio of more respectful similitudes.) 
 
 " Have you any objection to be drawn to your lady-love by 
 four cattle that would buy the soul of Osbaldiston ?' J 
 
 " ' Objection !' quotha ?" 
 
 The next morning, four double-jointed and well-groomed ponies 
 were munching their corn in the bow of a steamer, upon the St. 
 Lawrence, wondering possibly what, in the name of Bucephalus, 
 had set the hills and churches flying at such a rate down the river. 
 The hills and churches came to a stand-still with the steamer 
 opposite Montreal, and the ponies were landed and put to their
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 13t 
 
 mettle for some twenty niilos, where they were destined to be as 
 tonished by a similar flying phenomenon in the mountains girding 
 the lengthening waters of Lake Champlain. Landed at Ticon- 
 deroga, a few miles' trot brought them to Lake George and a 
 third steamer, and, with a winding passage among green islands 
 and overhanging precipices, loaded like a harvest-wagon with 
 vegetation, we- made our last landing on the edge of the pine for 
 est, where our story opens. 
 
 "Well, I must object," says Tom, setting his whip in the 
 socket, and edging round upon his driving-box, " I must object 
 to this republican gravity of yours. I should take it for melan 
 choly, did I not know it was the ' complexion ' of your never- 
 smiling countrymen." 
 
 " Spare me, Tom ! ' I see a hand you cannot see.' Talk to 
 your ponies, and let me be miserable, if you love me." 
 
 " For what, in the name of common sense ? Are you not 
 within five hours of your mistress ? Is not this cursed sand your 
 natal soil ? Do not 
 
 ' The pine-boughs sing 
 Old songs with new gladness?' 
 
 and in the years that we have dangled about, ' here-and-there- 
 ians ' together, were you ever before grave, sad, or sulky ? and 
 will you without a precedent, and you a lawyer, inflict your stu 
 pidity upon me for the first time in this waste and being-less 
 solitude ? Half an hour more of the dread silence of this forest, 
 and it will not need the hora of Astolpho to set me irremediably 
 mad !" 
 
 " If employment will save your wits, you may invent a scheme 
 for marrying the son of a poor gentleman to the ward of a rich 
 trader in rice and molasses."
 
 138 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " The programme of our approaching campaign, I presume ?" 
 
 ' Simply." 
 
 " Is the lady willing ?" 
 
 " I would fain believe so." 
 
 " Is Mr. Popkins unwilling ?" 
 
 " As the most romantic lover could desire." 
 
 " And the state of the campaign ?" 
 
 " Why, thus : Mr. George Washington Jefferson Frump, whom 
 you have irreverently called Mr. Popkins, is sole guardian to the 
 daughter of a dead West Indian plginttr, of whom he was once the 
 agent. I fell in love with Kate llpsqjer from description, when 
 she was at school with my sister, saw her by favor of a garden- 
 wall, and after the usual vows " 
 
 " Too romantic for a Yankee, by half !" 
 
 " Proposed by letter to Mr. Frump." 
 
 " Oh, bathos !" 
 
 " He refused me." 
 
 " Because " 
 
 " Imprimis, I was not myself in the ' sugar line,' and in secun- 
 dis, my father wore gloves and ' did nothing for a living ' two 
 blots in the eyes of Mr. Frump, which all the waters of Niagara 
 would never wash from my escutcheon." 
 
 " And what the devil hindered you from running off with her ?" 
 
 " Fifty shares in the Manhattan Insurance Company, a gold 
 mine in Florida, Heaven knows how many hogsheads of treacle, 
 and a million of acres on the banks ojf the Missouri." 
 
 " ' Pluto's flame-colored daughter ' defend us ! what a living 
 El Dorado !" 
 
 " All of which she forfeits if she marries without old Frump's 
 consent."
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 139 
 
 I see I gee ! And this lo and her Argus are now drinking 
 the waters at Saratoga ?" 
 
 " Even so." 
 
 " I'll bet you my four-in-hand to a sonnet, that I get her for 
 you before the season is over." 
 
 " Money and all ?" 
 
 " Mines, molasses, and Missouri acres !" 
 
 " And if you do, Tom, I'll give you a team of Virginian bloods 
 that would astonish Ascot, and throw you into the bargain a for 
 giveness for riding over me Jflfcyour camel on the banks of the 
 
 " Santa Maria ! do you remember that spongy foot stepping 
 over your frontispiece ? I had already cast my eyes up to Mont 
 Sypilus to choose a clean niche for you out of the rock-hewn 
 tombs of the kings of Lydia. I 'thought you would sleep with 
 Alyattis, Phil !" 
 
 We dashed on through dark forest and open clearing, through 
 glens of tangled cedar and wild vine, over log bridges, corduroy 
 marshes, and sand-hills, till, toward evening, a scattering shanty 
 or two, and an occasional sound of a woodman's axe, betokened 
 our vicinity to Saratoga. A turn around a clump of tall pines 
 brought us immediately into the broad street of the village, and 
 the flaunting shops, the overgrown, unsightly hotels, riddled with 
 windows like honey combs, the fashionable idlers out for their 
 evening lounge to the waters, the indolent smokers on the colon 
 nades, .and the dusty and loaded coaches driving from door to 
 door in search of lodgings, formed the usual evening picture of 
 the Bath of America. 
 
 . As it was necessary to Tom's plan that my arrival at Saratoga 
 should not be known, he pulled up at a small tavern at the en-
 
 140 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 trance of the street, and dropping me and my baggage, drove on 
 to Congress Hall, with my best prayers, and a letter of introduc 
 tion to my sister, whom I had left on her way to the Springs with 
 a party at my departure for Montreal. Unwilling to remain in 
 Fiich a tantalizing vicinity, I hired a chaise the next morning, and 
 despatching a note to Tom, drove to seek a retreat at Barhydt's 
 a spot that cannot well be described in the tail of a paragraph. 
 Herr Barhydt is an old Dutch settler, who, till the mineral 
 springs of Saratoga were discovered some five miles from his 
 door, was buried in the depth of a forest solitude, unknown to all 
 but the prowling Indian. The sky is supported above him (or 
 looks to be) by a wilderness of straight, columnar pine shafts, 
 gigantic in girth, and with no foliage except at the top, whore 
 they branch out like round tables spread for a banquet in the 
 clouds. A small ear -shaped la'ke, sunk as deep into the earth as 
 the firs shoot above it, black as Erebus in the dim shadow of its 
 hilly shore and the obstructed light of the trees that nearly meet 
 over it, and clear and unbroken as a mirror, save the pearl-spots 
 of the thousand lotuses holding up their cups to the blue eye of 
 heaven that peers through -the leafy vault, sleeps beneath his 
 window ; and around him, in the forest, lies, still unbroken, the 
 elastic and brown carpet of the faded pine tassels, deposited in 
 yearly layers since the continent rose from the flood, and rooted a 
 foot beneath the surface to a rich mould that would fatten the 
 Syniplf glades to a flower-garden. With his black tarn well 
 stocked with trout, his bit of a farm in the clearing near by, and 
 an old Dutch bible, Herr Barhydt lived a life of Dutch musing, 
 talked Dutch to his geese and chicken^, sung Dutch psalms to tho 
 echoes of the mighty forest, and, except on his far-between visits 
 to Albany, which grew rarer and rarer as the old Dutch inhabit-
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 141 
 
 ants dropped faster away, saw never a white human face from one 
 maple-blossoming to another. 
 
 A roving mineralogist tasted the waters of Saratoga, and, like 
 the work of a lath-and-plaster Aladdin, up sprung a thriving vil 
 lage around the fountain's lip, and hotels, tin tumblers, and 
 apothecaries, multiplied in the usual proportion to each other, 
 but out of all precedent, with everything else for rapidity. 
 Libraries, newspapers, churches, livery stables, and lawyers, fol 
 lowed in their train ; and it was soon established, from the plains 
 of Abraham to the savannahs of Alabama, that no person of 
 fashionable taste or broken constitution could exist through the 
 months of July and August without a visit to the chalybeate 
 springs and populous village of Saratoga. It contained seven 
 thousand inhabitants before Herr Barhydt, living in his wooded 
 seclusion only five miles off, became aware of its existence. A 
 pair of lovers, philandering about the forest on horseback, popped 
 in upon him one June morning, and thenceforth there was no rest 
 for the soul of the Dutchman. Everybody rode down to eat his 
 trout and make love in the dark shades of his mirrored lagoon ; 
 and at last, in self-defence, he added a room or two to his shanty, 
 enclosed bis cabbage-garden, and put a price upon his trout-din 
 ners. The traveller now-a-days who has not dined at Barhydt's 
 with his own champagne cold from the tarn, and the white-headed 
 old settler " gargling" Dutch about the house, in his manifold 
 vocation of cook, -ostler, and waiter, may as well not have seen 
 Niagara. 
 
 Installed in the back-chamber of the old man's last addition to 
 his house, with Barry Cornwall and Elia (old fellow-travellers of 
 mine), a rude chair, a ruder, but clean bed, and a troop of 
 thoughts so perpetually from home, that it mattered . very little
 
 142 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 what was the complexion of anything about me, I waited Tom's 
 operations with a lover's usual patience. Barhydt's visitors sel 
 dom arrived before two or three o'clock, and the long, soft morn 
 ings, quiet as a shadowy Elysium on the rim of that ebon lake, 
 were as solitary as a melancholy man could desire. Didst thou but 
 know, oh ! gentle Barry Cornwall ! how gratefully thou hast been 
 road and mused upon in those dim and whispering aisles of the 
 forest, three thousand and more miles from thy smoky whereabout, 
 melhinks it would warm up the flush of pleasure around thine 
 eyelids, though the " golden-tressed Adelaide !" were waiting her 
 good-night kisses at thy knee ! 
 
 I could stand it no longer. On the second evening of my 
 seclusion, I made bold to borrow old Barhydt's superannuated 
 roadster, and getting up the steam with infinite difficulty in his 
 ricketty engine, higgled away, with a pace to which I could not 
 venture to affix a name, to the gay scenes of Saratoga. 
 
 It was ten o'clock when I dismounted at the stable in Congress 
 Hall, and giving der Teufcl, as the old man ambitiously styled his 
 steed, to the hands of the ostler, stole round through the garden 
 to the eastern colonnade. 
 
 I feel called upon to describe " Congress Hall." Some four 
 teen or fifteen millions of white gentlemen and ladies consider 
 that wooden and windowed Babylon as the proper palace of 
 Delight a sojourn to be sighed for, and sacrificed for, and econ 
 omized for the birthplace of Love, the haunt of Hymen, the 
 arena of Fashion a place without which' a new lease of life were 
 valueless for which, if the conjuring cap of King Erricus itself 
 could not furnish a season ticket, it might lie on a lady's toilet as 
 Unnoticed as a bride's night-cap a twelvemonth after marriage. 
 I say to myself, sometimes, as I pass the window at White's, and
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 143 
 
 see a. world-sick worlding with the curl of satiety and disgust on 
 his lip, wondering how the next hour will come to its death, " If 
 you but knew, my friend, what a campaign of pleasure you are 
 losing in America what belles than the bluebell slighter and 
 fairer what hearts than the dewdrops fresher and clearer are liv 
 ing their pretty hour, like gems undived for in the ocean what 
 loads of foliage, what Titans of trees, what glorious wildernesses 
 of rocks and waters, are lavishing their splendors on the clouds 
 that sail over them, and all within the magic circle of which Con 
 gress Hall is the centre, and which a circling dove would measure 
 to get an appetite for his breakfast if you but knew this, my 
 lord, as I know it, you would not be gazing so vacantly on the 
 steps of Crockford's, nor consider ' the graybeard' such-a laggard 
 in his hours !" 
 
 Congress Hall is a wooden building, of which the size and 
 capacity could never be definitely ascertained. It is built on a 
 slight elevation, just above the strongly-impregnated spring 
 whose name it bears, with little attempt at architecture, save a 
 spacious and vine-covered colonnade, serving as a promenade on 
 either side, and two wings, the extremities of which are lost in 
 the distance. A relic or two of the still-astonished forest towers 
 above the chimneys, in the shape of a melancholy group of firs ; 
 and, five minutes' walk from the door, the dim old wilderness 
 stands looking down on the village in its primeval grandeur, like 
 the spirits of the wronged Indians, whose tracks are scarce van 
 ished from the sand. In the strength of the summer solstice, 
 from five hundred to a thousand people dine together at Congress 
 Hall, and after absorbing as many bottles of the best wines of 
 the world, a sunset promenade plays the valve to the sentiment 
 thus generated, and, with a cup of tea, the crowd separates to
 
 144 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 dress for the nightly ball. There are several other hotels in the 
 village, equally crowded and equally spacious, and the ball is 
 given alternately at each. Congress Hall is the " crack" place, 
 however, and I expect that Mr. Westcott, the obliging proprietor, 
 will give me the preference of rooms, on my next annual visit, for 
 this just and honorable mention. 
 
 The dinner-tables were piled into an orchestra, and draped 
 with green baize and green wreaths, the floor of the immense hall 
 was chalked with American flags and the initials of all the heroes 
 of the Revolution, and the band were playing a waltz in a style 
 that made the candles quiver, and the pines tremble audibly in 
 their tassels. The ball-room was on the ground floor, and the col 
 onnade upon the garden side was crowded with spectators, a row 
 of grinning black fellows edging the cluster of Leads at every 
 window, and keeping time with their hands and feet in the irre 
 sistible sympathy of their music-loving natures. Drawing my 
 hat over my eyes, I stood at the least-thronged window, and con 
 cealing ray face in the curtain, waited impatiently for the appear 
 ance of the dancers. 
 
 The bevy in the drawing-room was sufficiently strong at last, 
 and the lady patronesses, handed in by a state governor or two, 
 and here and there a member of congress, achieved the entre with 
 their usual intrepidity. Followed beaux and followed belles. 
 Such belles ! Slight, delicate, fragile-Jbaoking creatures, elegant 
 as lletzsch's angels, warm-eyed as Mohammedan houries, yet 
 timid as the antelope whose hazel orbs they eclipse, limbed like 
 nothing earthly except an American woman I would rather not 
 go on ! When I speak of the beauty of my countrywomen, my 
 heart swells. I do believe the New World has a newer mould for 
 its mothers and daughters. I think I am not prejudiced. I have
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 145 
 
 been years away. I have sighed in France ; I have loved in 
 Italy ; I have bargained for Circassians in an eastern bezestein, 
 and I have lounged at Howell and James's on a sunny day in the 
 season ; and my eye is trained, and my perceptions quickened : 
 but I do think (honor bright ! and Heath's " Book of Beauty" 
 forgiving me) that there is no such beautiful work of God under 
 the arch of the sky as an American girl in her bellehood. 
 
 Enter Tom Fane in a Stultz coat and Sparding tights, looking 
 as a man who had been the mirror of Bond street might be sup 
 posed to look, a thousand leagues from his club-house. She 
 leaned on his arm. I had never seen her half so lovely. Fresh 
 and calm from the seclusion of her chamber, her transparent 
 cheek was just tinged with the first mounting blood, from the 
 excitement of lights and music. Her lips were slightly parted, 
 her fine-lined eyebrows were arched with a girlish surprise, and 
 her ungloved arm lay carelessly and confidingly within his, as 
 white, round, and slender, as if Canova had wrought it in Parian 
 for his Psyche. If you have never seen a beauty of northern 
 blood nurtured in a southern clime, the cold fairness of her race 
 warmed up as if it had been steeped in some golden sunset, and 
 her deep blue eye darkened and filled with a fire as unnaturally 
 resplendent as the fusion of crysoprase into a diamond, and if you 
 have never known the corresponding contrast in the character, 
 the intelligence and constancy of the north kindling with the 
 enthusiasm and impulse, the passionateness and the abaiidon of 
 a more burning latitude you have seen nothing, let me insinu 
 ate, though you " have been i' the Indies twice," that could give 
 you an idea of Kate Lorimer. 
 
 She waltzed, and then Tom dauced with my sister, and then, 
 
 resigning her to another partner, he offered his arm again to Miss 
 
 7
 
 146 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Lorimer, and left the ball room with several other couples for a 
 turn in the fresh air of the colonnade. I was not jealous, but I 
 felt unpleasantly at his returning to her so immediately. He 
 was the handsomest man, out of all comparison, in the room, and 
 he had dimmed my star too often in our rambles in Europe and 
 Asia, not to suggest a thought, at least, that the same pleasant 
 eclipse might occur in our American astronomy. I stepped off 
 the colonnade, and took a turn in the garden. 
 
 Those " children of eternity," as Walter Savage Landor poet 
 ically calls" the breezes," performed their soothing ministry upon- 
 my temples, and I replaced Tom in my confidence with an heroic 
 effort, and turned back. A swing hung between two gigantic 
 pines, just under the balustrade, and flinging myself into the 
 cushioned seat, I abandoned myself to the musings natural to a 
 person " in my situation." The sentimentalizing promenaders 
 lounged backward and forward above me, and not hearing Tom's 
 drawl among them, I presumed he had returned to the ball-room. 
 A lady and gentleman, walking in silence, stopped presently, and 
 leaned upon the railing opposite the swing. They stood a mo 
 ment, looking into the dim shadow of the pine-grove, and then a 
 voice, that I knew better than my own, remarked in a low and 
 silvery tone upon the beauty of the night. 
 
 She was not answered, and after a moment's pause, as if 
 resuming a conversation that had been interrupted, she turned 
 very earnestly to her companion, and asked, " Are you sure, 
 quite sure, that you could venture to marry without a fortune ?" 
 
 " Quite, dear Miss Lorimer !" 
 
 I started from the swing, but before the words of execration 
 that rushed choking from my heart could struggle to my lips, 
 they had mingled with the crowd and vanished.
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 14f 
 
 I strode down the garden-walk in a phrensy of passion. 
 Should I call him immediately to account ? Should I rush into 
 the ball-room and accuse him of his treachery to her face ? 
 Should I drown myself in old Barhydt's tarn, or join an Indian 
 tribe, and make war upon the whites ? Or should I could I 
 be magnanimous and write him a note immediately, offering to 
 be his groomsman at the wedding ? 
 
 I stepped into the punch-room, asked for pen, ink, and paper, 
 and indited the following note : 
 
 " DEAR TOM : If your approaching nuptials are to be sufficient 
 ly public to admit of a groomsman, you will make me the happi 
 est of friends by selecting me for that office. 
 
 " Yours ever truly, 
 
 " PHIL." 
 
 Having despatched it to his room, I flew to the stable, roused 
 der Teufelj who had gathered up his legs in the straw for the 
 night, flogged him furiously out of the village, and giving him tho 
 rein as he entered the forest, enjoyed the scenery in the humor 
 of mad old Hieronymo in the Spanish tragedy " the moon 
 dark, the stars extinct, the winds blowing, the owls shrieking, the 
 toads croaking, the minutes jarring, and the clock striking 
 twelve !" 
 
 E:u-ly the next day Tom's " tiger" dismounted at Barhydt's 
 door, with an answer to my note, as follows : 
 
 " DEAR PHIL : The devil must have informed you of a secret 
 I supposed safe from all the world. Be assured I should have 
 chosen no one but yourself to support me on the occasion ; and 
 however you have discovered my design upon your treasure, a
 
 148 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 thousand thanks for your generous consent. I expected no less 
 from your noble nature. 
 
 " Yours devotedly, 
 
 " TOM. 
 
 " P. S. I shall endeavor to be at Barhydt's, with materials for 
 the fifth act of our comedy, to-morrow morning." 
 
 " ' Comedy !' call you this, Mr. Fane ?" I felt my heart turn 
 black as I threw down the letter. After a thousand plans of 
 revenge formed and abandoned borrowing old Barbydt's rifles, 
 loading them deliberately, and discharging them again into the 
 air I flung myself exhausted on the bed, and reasoned myself 
 back to my magnanimity. I would be his groomsman ! 
 
 It was a morning like the burst of a millenium on the world. 
 I felt as if I should never forgive the birds for their mocking 
 enjoyment of it. The wild heron swung up from the reeds, the 
 lotuses shook out their dew into the lake as the breeze stirred 
 them, and the senseless old Dutchman sat fishing in his canoe, 
 singing one of his unintelligible psalms to a quick measure that 
 half maddened me. I threw myself upon the yielding floor of 
 pine-tassels on the edge of the lake, and with the wretched school 
 philosophy, " Si gravis est, brevis est," endeavored to put down 
 the tempest of my feelings. 
 
 A carriage rattled over the little bridge, mounted the ascent 
 rapidly, and brought up at Barhydt's door. 
 
 " Phil ! shouted Tom, " Phil !" 
 
 I gulped down a choking sensation in my throat, and rushed up 
 the bank to him. A stranger was dismounting from his horse. 
 
 " Quick !" said Tom, shaking my hand hurriedly " there is 
 no time to lose. Out with your inkhorn, Mr. Poppletree, and 
 have your papers signed while I tie up my ponies."
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 149 
 
 " What is this sir ?" said I, starting back as the stranger 
 deliberately presented me with a paper, in which my own name 
 was written in conspicuous letters. 
 
 The magistrate gazed at me with a look of astonishment. 
 " A contract of marriage, I think, between Mr. Philip Slingsby 
 and Miss Katherine Lorimer, spinster. Are you the gentleman 
 named in that instrument, sir ?" 
 
 At this moment my sister, leading the blushing girl by the 
 hand, came and threw her arms about my neck, and drawing her 
 within my reach, ran off and left us together. 
 
 There are some pure moments in this life that description 
 would only profane. 
 
 We were married by the village magistrate in that magnificent 
 sanctuary of the forest, old Barhydt and his lotuses the only 
 indifferent witnesses of vows as passionate as ever trembled upon 
 human lips. 
 
 I had scarce pressed her to my heart and dashed the tears from 
 my eyes, when Fane, who had looked more at my sister than at 
 the bride during the ceremony, left her suddenly, and thrusting a 
 roll of parchment into my pocket, ran off to bring up his ponies. 
 I was on the way to Saratoga, a married man, and my bride on 
 the seat beside me, before I had recovered from my astonishment. 
 
 " Pray," said Tom, "if it be not an impertinent question, and 
 you can find breath in your ecstacies, how did you find out that 
 your sister had done me the honor to accept the offer of my 
 hand ? 
 
 The resounding woods rung with his unmerciful laughter at the 
 explanation. 
 
 " And pray," said I, in my turn, " if it is not an impertinent 
 question, and you can find a spare breath in your ecstacies, by
 
 150 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 what magic did you persuade old Frump to trust bis ward and 
 her title-deeds in your treacherous keeping ?" 
 
 " It is a long story, my dear Phil, and I will give you the par 
 ticulars when you pay me the * Virginia bloods ' you wot of. 
 Suffice it for the present, that Mr. Frump believes Mr. Tom 
 Fane (alias Jacob Phipps, Esq., sleeping partner of a banking- 
 house at Liverpool) to be the accepted suitor of his fair ward. 
 In his extreme delight at seeing her in so fair a way to marry 
 into a bank, he generously made her a present of her own fortune, 
 signed over his right to Control it by a document in your posses 
 sion, and will undergo as agreeable a surprise in %bout five min 
 utes as the greatest lover of excitement could desire." 
 
 The ponies dashed on. The sandy ascent by the Pavilion 
 Spring was surmounted, and in another minute we were at the 
 door of Congress Hall. The last stragglers from the breakfast 
 table were lounging down the colonnade, and old Frump sat read 
 ing the newspaper under the portico. 
 
 " Aha ! Mr. Phipps," said he, as Tom drove up " back so 
 soon, eh ? Why, I thought you and Kitty would be billing it till 
 dinner-time !" 
 
 " Sir !" said Tom, very gravely, " you have the honor of ad 
 dressing Captain Thomas Fane, of his majesty's th Fusilcers ; 
 and whenever you have a moment's leisure, I shall be happy to 
 submit to your perusal a certificate of the marriage of Miss 
 Katherine Lorimer to the gentleman I have the pleasure to pre 
 sent to you. Mr. Frump, Mr. Slingsby !" 
 
 At the mention of my name, the blood in Mr. Frump's ruddy 
 complexion turned suddenly to the color of the Tiber. Poetry 
 alone can express the feeling pictured in his countenance :
 
 TOM FANE AND I. 
 
 " If every atom of a dead man's flesh 
 Should creep, each one with a particular life, 
 Yet all as cold as ever 'twas just so : 
 Or had it drizzled needle-points of frost, 
 Upon a feverish head made suddenly bald." 
 
 George Washington Jefferson Frump, Esq., left Congress Hall 
 the same evening, and has since ungraciously refused an invitation 
 to Captain Fane's wedding possibly from his having neglected to 
 invite him on a similar occasion at Saratoga. This last, how 
 ever, I am free to say, is a gratuitous supposition of my own.
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN, 
 
 THE moon shone like glorified and floating dew on the bosom 
 of the tranquil Pei-ho, and the heart of the young poet Le-pih 
 was like a cup running over with wine. It was no abatement of 
 his exulting fulness that he was as yet the sole possessor of the 
 secret of his own genius. Conscious of exquisite susceptibility to 
 beauty, fragrance and music (the three graces of the Chinese), 
 he was more intent upon enjoying -his gifts than upon the awak 
 ening of envy for their possession the latter being the second 
 leaf in the book of genius, and only turned over by the finger of 
 satiety. Thoughtless of the acquisition of fame as the youthful 
 poet may be, however, he is always ready to anticipate its fruits, 
 and Le-pih committed but the poet's error, when, having the gem in 
 his bosom which could buy the favor of the world, he took the 
 favor for granted without producing the gem. 
 
 Kwonfootse had returned a conqueror, from the wars with the 
 Hwong-kin, and this night, on which the moon shone so gloriously, 
 was the hour of his triumph, for the Emperor Tang had conde 
 scended to honor with his presence, a gala gisfen by the victori 
 ous general at his gardens on the Pei-ho. Softened by his exult 
 ing feelings (for though a brave soldier, he was as haughty as
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 153 
 
 Luykong the thunder-god, or Hwuyloo the monarch of fire), the 
 warlike mandarin threw open his gardens on this joyful night, not 
 only to those who wore in their caps the gold ball significant of 
 patrician hirth, but to all whose dress and mien warranted their 
 appearance in the presence of the emperor. 
 
 Like the realms of the blest shone the gardens of Kwonfootse. 
 Occupying the whole valley of the Pei-ho, at a spot where it 
 curved lite the twisted cavity of a shell, the sky seemed to shut 
 in the grounds like the cover of a vase, and the stars seemed but 
 the garden-lights overhead. From one edge of the vase to the 
 other from hill-top to hill-top extended a broad avenue, a pa 
 goda at either extremity glittering with gold and scarlet, the sides 
 flaming with colored lamps and flaunting with gay streamers of 
 barbarian stuffs, and the moonlit river cutting it in the centre, the 
 whole vista, at the first glance, resembling a girdle of precious 
 stones with a fastening of opal. Off from this central division 
 radiated in all directions alleys of camphor and cinnamon trees, 
 lighted with amorous dimness, and leading away to bowers upon 
 the hill-side, and from every quarter resounded music, and in 
 every nook was seen feasting and merriment. 
 
 In disguise, the emperor and imperial family mingled in the 
 crowd, and no one save the host and his daughters knew what 
 part of the gardens was honored with their presence. There was, 
 however, a retreat in the grounds, sacred to the privileged few, 
 and here, when fatigued or desirous of refreshment, the royal 
 personages laid aside disguise and were surrounded with the defe 
 rential honors of the court. It was so contrived that the access 
 was unobserved by the people, and there was, therefore, no feel 
 ing of exclusion to qualify the hilarity of the entertainment, 
 Kwonfootse, with all his pride, looking carefully to his popularity. 
 7*
 
 154 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 At the foot of each descent, upon the matted banks of the river, 
 floated gilded boats with lamps burning in their prows, and gayly- 
 dressed boatmen offering conveyance across to all who required 
 it ; but there were also, unobserved by the crowd, boats unlighted 
 and undecorated, holding off from the shore, which, at a sign given 
 by the initiated, silently approached a marble stair without the 
 line of the blazing avenue, and taking their freight on board, 
 swiftly pulled up the moonlit river, to a landing concealed by the 
 shoulder of the hill. No path led from the gardens hither, and 
 from no point of view could be overlooked the more brilliant 
 scene of imperial revel. 
 
 It was verging toward midnight when the unknown poet, with 
 brain floating in a celestial giddiness of delight, stood on the 
 brink of the gleaming river. The boats plied to and fro with 
 their freights of fair damsels and gayly-dressed youths, the many- 
 colored lamps throwing a rainbow profusion of tints on the water, 
 and many a voice addressed him with merry invitation, for Le- 
 pih's beauty, so famous now in history, was of no forbidding state- 
 liness, and his motions, like his countenance, were as frankly joy 
 ous as the gambols of a young leopard. Not inclined to boister 
 ous gayety at the moment, Le-pih stepped between the lamp- 
 bearing trees of the avenue, and folding his arms in his silken 
 vest, stood gazing in revery on the dancing waters. After a few 
 moments, one of the dark boats on which he had unconsciously 
 fixed his gaze drew silently toward him, and as the cushioned 
 stern was brought round to the bank, the boatman made a rever 
 ence to his knees and sat waiting the poet's pleasure. 
 
 Like all men born to good fortune, Le-pih was prompt to fol 
 low the first beckonings of adventure, and asking no questions, he 
 quietly embarked, and with a quick dip of the oars the boat shot
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 155 
 
 from the shore and took the descending current. Almost in the 
 nest instant she neared again to the curving and willow-fringed 
 margin of the stream, and lights glimmered through the branches, 
 and sweet, low music became audible, and by rapid degrees, a 
 scene burst on his eye, which the first glimpse into the gate of 
 paradise fa subsequent agreeable surprise, let us presume) could 
 scarcely have exceeded. 
 
 Without an exchange of a syllable between the boatman and 
 his freight, the stern was set against a carpeted stair at the edge 
 of the river, and Le-pih disembarked with a bound, and stood 
 upon a spacious area lying in a lap of the hill, the entire surface 
 carpeted smoothly with Persian stuffs, and dotted here and there 
 with striped tents pitched with poles of silver. Garlands of 
 flowers hung in festoons against the brilliant-colored cloths, and 
 in the centre of each tent stood a low tablet surrounded with 
 couches and laden with meats and wine. The guests, for whom 
 this portion of the entertainment was provided, were apparently 
 assembled at a spot farther on, from which proceeded the deli 
 cious music heard by the poet in approaching ; and, first enter 
 ing one of the abandoned tents for a goblet of wine, Le-pih 
 followed to the scene of attraction. 
 
 Under a canopy of gold cloth held by six bearers, stood the 
 imperial chair upon a raised platform not occupied, however, the 
 august Tang reclining more at his ease, a little out of the circle, 
 upon cushions canopied by the moonlight. Around upon the 
 steps of the platform and near by, were grouped the noble ladies 
 of the court and the royal princesses (Tang living much in the 
 female apartments and his daughters numbering several score), 
 and all, at the moment of LepuVs joining the assemblage, turning 
 
 \ 
 
 to observe a damsel with a lute, to whose performance the low
 
 156 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 sweet music of the bandhad been a prelude. The first touch of 
 the strings betrayed a trembling hand, and the poet's sympathies 
 were stirred, though from her beut posture and her distant posi 
 tion he had not yet seen the features of the player. As the tremu 
 lous notes grew firmer, and the lute began to .give out a flowing 
 harmony, Le-pih approached, and at the same time, the listening 
 groups of ladies began to whisper and move away, and of those 
 who remained, none seemed to listen with pleasure except Kwon- 
 footse and the emperor. The latter, indeed, rivalled the intrud 
 ing bard in his interest, rolling over upon the cushions and rest 
 ing on the other imperial elbow in close attention. 
 
 Gaining confidence evidently from the neglect of her auditory, 
 or, as is natural to women less afraid of the judgment of the other 
 sex, who were her only listeners, the fair Taya (the youngest 
 daughter of Kwonfootse), now joined her voice to her instrument, 
 and sang with a sweetness that dropped like a plummet to the 
 soul of Le-pih. He fell to his knee upon a heap of cushions and 
 leaned eagerly forward. As she became afterward one of his 
 most passionate themes, we are enabled to reconjure the features 
 that were presented to his admiring wonder. The envy of the 
 princesses was sufficient proof that Taya was of rare beauty ; she 
 had that wonderful perfection of feature to which envy pays its 
 bitterest tribute, which is apologized for if not found in the poet's 
 ideal, which we thirst after in pictures and marble, of which love 
 liness and expression are but lesser degrees fainter shadowings. 
 She was adorably beautiful. The outer corners of her long 
 almond-shaped eyes, the dipping crescent of her forehead, the 
 pencil of her eyebrow and the indented corners of her mouth all 
 these turned downward ; and this peculiarity which, in faces of a 
 less elevated character, indicates a temper morose and repulsive,
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 157 
 
 in Taya's expressed the very soul of gentle and lofty melancholy. 
 There was something infantine about her mouth, the teeth were 
 so smaU and regular, and their dazzling whiteness, shining be 
 tween lips of the brilliant color of a cherry freshly torn apart, was 
 in startling contrast with the dark lustre of her eyes. Le-pih's 
 poetry makes constant allusion to those small and snowy teeth, 
 and the turned-down corners of the lips and eyes of his incom 
 parable mistress. 
 
 Taya's song was a fragment of that celebrated Chinese romance 
 from which Moore has borrowed so largely in his loves of the 
 angels, and it chanced to be particularly appropriate to her de 
 serted position (she was alone now with her three listeners), dwelling 
 as it did upon the loneliness of a disguised Peri, wandering in 
 exile upon earth. The lute fell from her hands when she ceased, 
 and while the emperor applauded, and Kwonfootse looked on her 
 with paternal pride, Le-pih modestly advanced to the fallen 
 instrument, and with a low obeisance to the- emperor and a hesi 
 tating apology to Taya, struck a prelude in the same air, and 
 broke forth into an impulsive expression of his feelings in verse. 
 It would be quite impossible to give a translation of this famous 
 effusion with its oriental load of imagery, but in modifying it to 
 the spirit of our language (giving little more than its thread of 
 thought, the reader may see glimpses of the material from 
 which the great Irish lyrist spun his woof of sweet fable. Fixing 
 his keen eyes upon the bright lips just closed, Le-pih sang : 
 
 When first from heaven's immortal throngs 
 The earth-doomed angels downward came, 
 
 And mourning their enraptured songs, 
 Walked sadly in our mortal frame; 
 
 To those, whose lyres of loftier string
 
 153 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Had taught the myriad lips of heaven. 
 The song that they forever sing, 
 
 A wondrous lyre, 'tis said, was given. 
 ' And go,' the seraph warder said, 
 
 As from the diamond gates they flew, 
 1 And wake the songs ye here have led 
 
 In earthly numbers, pure and new ! 
 And yours shall he the hallowed power 
 
 To win the lost to heaven cgain, 
 And when earth's clouds shall darkest lower 
 
 Your lyre shall breathe its holiest strain ! 
 Yet, chastened by this inward fire, 
 
 Your lot shall be to walk alone, 
 Save when, perchance, with echoing lyre, 
 
 You touch a spirit like your own ; 
 And whatsoe'er the guise you wear, 
 
 To him, 'tis given to know you there.' " 
 
 The song over, Le-pih sat with his hands folded across the 
 instrument and his eyes cast down, and Taya gazed on him with 
 wondering looks, yet slowly, and as if unconsciously, she took 
 from her breast a rose, and with a half-stolen glance at her father, 
 threw it upon the lute. But frowningly Kwonfootso rose from 
 his seat and approached the poet. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he demanded angrily, as the bard placed 
 the rose reverently in his bosom. 
 
 " Le-pih ! 
 
 With another obeisance to the emperor, and a deeper one to 
 the fair Taya, he turned, after this concise answer, upon his heel, 
 lifting his cap to his head, which, to the rage of Kwonfootse, bore 
 not even the gold ball of aristocracy. 
 
 " Bind him for the bastinado ! " cried the infuriated mandarin 
 to the bearers of the canopy.
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 159 
 \ 
 
 The six soldiers dropped their poles to the ground, but the em 
 peror's voice arrested them. 
 
 " He shall have no violence but from you, fair Taya," said the 
 softened monarch ; " call to him by the name he has just pro 
 nounced, for I would hear that lute again ! " 
 
 " Le-pih ! Le-pih ! " cried instantly the musical voice of the 
 fair girl. 
 
 The poet turned and listened, incredulous of his own ears. 
 
 " Le-pih ! Le-pih ! " she repeated, in a soft tone. 
 
 Half-hesitating, half-bounding, as if still scarce believing he 
 had heard aright, Le-pih flew to her feet, and dropped to one 
 knee upon the cushion before her, his breast heaving and his eyes 
 flashing with eager wonder. Taya's courage was at an end, and 
 she sat with her eyes upon the ground. 
 
 " Give him the lute, Kwonfootse ! " said the emperor, swing 
 ing himself on the raised chair with an abandonment of the impe 
 rial avoirdupois, which set ringing violently the hundred bells sus 
 pended in the golden fringes. 
 
 " Let not the crow venture again into the nest of the eagle," 
 muttered the mandarin between his teeth as he handed the instru 
 ment to the poet. 
 
 The sound of the bells brought in the women and courtiers 
 from every quarter of the privileged area, and preluding upon 
 the strings to gather his scattered senses, while they were seat 
 ing themselves around him, Le-pih at last fixed his gaze upon the 
 lips of Taya, and commenced his song to ' an irregular harmony 
 well adapted to extempore verse. We have tried in vain to put 
 this celebrated song of compliment into English stanzas. It com 
 menced with a description of Taya's beauty, and an enumeration 
 of things she resembled, dwelling most upon the blue lily,
 
 160 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 I 
 
 winch seems to have been Le-pih's favorite flower. The burthen 
 of the conclusion, however, is the new value everything assumed 
 in her presence. " Of the light in this garden," he says, " there 
 is one beam worth all the glory of the moon, for it sleeps on the 
 eye of Taya. Of the air about me there is one breath which my 
 soul drinks like wine it is from the lips of Taya. Taya looks on a 
 flower, and that flower seems to me, with its pure eye, to gaze 
 after her for ever. Taya's jacket of blue silk is my passion. If 
 angels visit me in my dreams, let them be dressed like Taya. I 
 love the broken spangle in her slipper better than the first star of 
 evening. Bring me, till I die, inner leaves from the water-lily, 
 since white and fragrant like them are the teeth of Taya. Call 
 me, should I sleep, when rises the crescent moon, for the blue 
 sky in its bend curves like the drooped eye of Taya," &c., &c. 
 
 " By the immortal Eo ! " cried the emperor, raising himself 
 bolt upright in his chair, as the poet ceased, " you shall be the 
 bard of Tang ! Those are my sentiments better expressed ! The 
 lute, in your hands, is my heart turned inside out ! Lend me 
 your gold chain, Kwonfootse, and, Taya ! come hither and put it 
 on his neck ! " 
 
 Taya glided to the emperor, but Le-pih rose to his feet, with a 
 slight flush on his forehead, and stood erect and motionless. 
 
 "Let it please your imperial majesty," he said, after a mo 
 ment's pause, " to bestow upon me some gift less binding than a 
 chain." 
 
 " Carbuncle of Budba ! What would the youth have ! " ex 
 claimed Tang in astonishment. " Is not the gold cham of a 
 mandarin good enough for his acceptance ? " 
 
 " My poor song," replied Le-pih, modestly casting down his 
 eyes, " is sufficiently repaid by your majesty's praises. The
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 
 
 chain of the mandarin would gall the neck of the poet. Yet 
 if I might have a reward more valuable " 
 
 " In Fo's name what is it ?" said the embarrassed emperor. 
 Kwonfootse laid his hand on his cimeter, and his daughter 
 blushed and trembled. 
 
 " The broken spangle on the slipper of Taya !" said Le-pih, 
 turning half indifferently away. 
 
 Loud laughed the ladies of the court, and Kwonfootse walked 
 from the bard with a look of contempt, but the emperor read 
 more truly the proud and delicate spirit that dictated the reply ; 
 and in that moment probably commenced the friendship with 
 which, to the end of his peaceful reign, Tang distinguished the 
 most gifted poet of his time. 
 
 The lovely daughter of the mandarin was not behind the 
 emperor in her interpretation of the character of Le-pih, and as 
 she stepped forward to put the detached spangle into his hand, 
 she -bent on him a look full of earnest curiosity and admiration. 
 
 " What others give me," he murmured in a low voice, pressing 
 the worthless trifle to his lips, " makes me their slave ; but what 
 Taya gives me is a link that draws her to my bosom." 
 
 Kwonfootse probably thought that Le-pih 's audience had lasted 
 long enough, for at this moment the sky seemed bursting into 
 flame with a sudden tumult of fire- works, and in the confusion that 
 immediately succeeded, the poet made his way unquestioned to 
 the bank of the river, and was reconveyed to the spot of his first 
 embarkation, in the same silent manner with which he had ap 
 proached- the privileged area. 
 
 During the following month, Le-pih seemed much in request at 
 the imperial palace, but, to the surprise of his friends, the keep 
 ing of " worshipful society" was not followed by any change in
 
 162 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 his merry manners, nor apparently by any improvement in his 
 worldly condition, nis mother still sold mats in the public mar 
 ket, and Le-pih still rode, every few days, to the marsh, for his 
 panniers of rushes, and to all comers, among his old acquaintan 
 ces, his lute and song were as ready and gratuitous as ever. 
 
 All this time, however, the fair Taya was consuming with a 
 passionate melancholy which made startling ravages in her 
 health, and the proud mandarin, whose affection for his children 
 was equal to his pride, in vain shut his eyes to the cause, and ato 
 up his heart with mortification. When the full moon came 
 round again, reminding him of the scenes the last moon had shone 
 upon, Kwonfootse seemed suddenly lightened of his care, and his 
 superb gardens on the Pei-ho were suddenly alive with prepara 
 tions for another festival. Kept in close confinement, poor Taya 
 fed on her sorrow, indifferent to the rumors of marriage which 
 could concern only her sisters ; and the other demoiselles Kwon 
 footse tried in vain, with fluttering hearts, to pry into their 
 father's secret. A marriage it certainly was to be, for the 
 lanterns were painted of the color of peach-blossoms but whoso 
 marriage ? 
 
 It was an intoxicating summer's morning, and the sun was 
 busy calling the dew back to heaven, and the birds wild with 
 entreating it to stay (so Le-pih describes it), when down the nar 
 row street in which the poet's mother plied her vocation, there 
 came a gay procession of mounted servants with a led horse 
 richly caparisoned, in the centre. The one who rode before held 
 on his pommel a velvet cushion, and upon it lay the cap of a 
 noble, with its gold ball shining in the sun. Out flew the neigh 
 bors as the clattering hoofs came on, and roused by the cries and 
 the barking of dogs, forth came the mother of Le-pih, followed by
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 163 
 
 the poet himself, but leading his horse by the bridle, for he had 
 just thrown on his panniers, and was bound out of the city to cut 
 his bundle of rushes. The poet gazed on the pageant with the 
 amused curiosity of others, wondering what it could mean, abroad 
 at so early an hour ; but, holding back his sorry beast to let the 
 prancing horsemen have all the room they required, he was 
 startled by a reverential salute from the bearer of the velvet 
 cushion, who, drawing up his followers in front of the poet's 
 house, dismounted and requested to speak with him in private. 
 
 Tying his horse to the door-post, Le-pih led the way into the 
 small room, where sat his mother braiding her mats to a cheerful 
 song of her son's making, and here the messenger informed .the 
 bard, with much circumstance and ceremony, that in consequence 
 of the pressing suit of Kwonfootse, the emperor had been pleased 
 to grant to the gifted Le-pih, the rank expressed by the cap 
 borne upon the velvet cushion, and that as a noble of the celes 
 tial empire, he was now a match for the incomparable Taya. 
 Furthermore the condescending Kwonfootse had secretly arrang 
 ed the ceremonial for the bridal, and Le-pih was commanded to 
 mount the led horse and come up with his cap and gold ball to be 
 made forthwith supremely happy. 
 
 An indefinable expression stole over the features of the poet as 
 he took up the cap, and placing it on his head, stood gayly before 
 his mother. The old dame looked at him a moment, and the 
 tears started to her eyes. Instantly Le-pih plucked it off and 
 cast it on the waste heap at her side, throwing himself upon his 
 knees before her in the same breath, and begging her forgiveness 
 for his silly jest. 
 
 " Take back your bauble to Kwonfootse !" he said, rising 
 proudly to his feet, ll and tell him that the emperor, to whom I
 
 164 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 know how to excuse myself, can easily make a poet into a noble, 
 but he cannot make a noble into a poet. The male bird does not 
 borrow its brighter plumage from its mate, and she who marries 
 Le-pih will braid rushes for his mother !" 
 
 Astonished, indeed, were the neighbors, who had learned the 
 errand of the messenger from his attendants without, to see the 
 crest-fallen man come forth again with his cap and cushion. 
 Astonished much more were they, ere the gay cavalcade were 
 well out of sight, to see Le-pih appear with his merry counten 
 ance and plebeian cap, and, mounting his old horse, trot briskly 
 away, sickle in hand, to the marshes. The day passed in won 
 dering and gossip, interrupted by the entrance of one person to 
 the house while the old dame was gone with her mats to the 
 market, but she returned duly before sunset, and went in as 
 usual to prepare supper for her son. 
 
 The last beams of day were on the tops of the pagodas when 
 Le-pih returned, walking beside his heavy-laden beast, and sing 
 ing a merry song. He threw off his rushes at the door and 
 entered, but his song was abruptly checked, for a female sat 
 on a low seat by his mother, stooping over a half-braided mat, 
 and the next moment, the blushing Taya lifted up her brimming 
 eyes and gazed at him with silent but pleading love. 
 
 Now, at last, the proud merriment and self respecting confi 
 dence of Le-pih were overcome. His eyes grew flushed and his 
 lips trembled without utterance. With both his hands placed on 
 his beating heart, he stood gazing on the lovely Taya. 
 
 " Ah !" cried the old dame, who sat with folded hands and smil 
 ing face, looking on at a scene which she did not quite under 
 stand, though it gave her pleasure, " Ah ! this is a wife for my 
 boy, sent from heaven ! No haughty mandarin's daughter she !
 
 THE POET AND THE MANDARIN. 165 
 
 no proud minx to fall in love with the son and despise the 
 mother ! Let them keep their smart caps and gift-horses for 
 those who can be bought at such prices ! -My son is a noble by 
 the gift of his Maker better than an emperor's gold ball ! Come 
 to your supper, Le-pih ! Come, my sweet daughter !" 
 
 Taya placed her finger on her lip, and Le-pih agreed that the 
 moment had not yet come to enlighten his mother as to the 
 quality of her guest. She was not long in ignorance, however, 
 for before they could seat themselves at table, there was a loud 
 knocking at the door, and before the old dame could bless her 
 self, an officer entered and arrested the daughter of Kwanfootse 
 by name, and Le-pih and his mother at the same time, and there 
 was no dismissing the messenger now. Off they marched, amid 
 the silent consternation and pity of the neighbors not toward 
 the palace of justice, however, but to the palace of the emperor, 
 where his majesty, to save all chances of mistake, chose to see 
 the poet wedded, and sit, himself, at the bridal feast. Tang had 
 a romantic heart, fat and voluptuous as he was, and the end of 
 his favor to Le-pih and Taya was the end of his life.
 
 THE COUNTESS NYSCHRIEM, 
 
 AND THE HANDSOME ARTIST. 
 
 THAT favored portion of the light of one summer's morning 
 that was destined to be the transparent bath of the master-pieces 
 on the walls of the Pitti, was pouring in a languishing flood 
 through the massive windows of the palace. The ghosts of the 
 painters (who, ministering to the eye only, walk the world from 
 cock-crowing to sunset) were haunting invisibly the sumptuous 
 rooms made famous by their pictures ; and the pictures them 
 selves, conscious of the presence of the fountain of soul from 
 which gushed the soul that is in them, glowed with intoxicated 
 mellowness and splendor, and amazed the living students of the 
 gallery with effects of light and color till that moment undiscov 
 ered. 
 
 [And now, dear reader, having paid you the compliment of 
 commencing my story in your vein (poetical), let me come down 
 to- a little every-day brick-and-mortar, and build up a fair and 
 square common-sense foundation], 
 
 Graeme McDonald was a young Highlander from Rob Roy's 
 country, come to Florence to study the old masters. He was aa 
 athletic, wholesome, handsome fellow, who had probably made a
 
 THE COUNTESS NYSCHRIEM 
 
 narrow escape of being simply a fine animal ; and, as it was, you 
 never would have picked him from a crowd as anything but a 
 hussar out of uniform, or a brigand perverted to honest life. 
 His peculiarity was (and this I forsce is to be an ugly sentence), 
 that he had peculiarities which did not seem peculiar. He was 
 full of genius for his art, but the canvass which served him as a 
 vent, gave him no more anxiety than his pocket-handkerchief. 
 He painted in the palace, or wiped his forehead on a warm day 
 with equally small care, to all appearance, and he had brought 
 his mother and two sisters to Italy, and supported them by a 
 most heroic economy and industry all the while looking as if the 
 " silver moon" and all the small change of the stars would scarce 
 serve him for a day's pocket-money. Indeed, the more I kew 
 of McDonald, the more I became convinced that there waslin- 
 other man built over him. The painter was inside. And if he 
 had free thoroughfare and use of the outer man's windows and 
 ivory door, he was at any rate barred from hanging out the small 
 est sign or indication of being at any time " within." Think as 
 hard as he would devise, combine, study, or glow with enthusi 
 asm the proprietor of the front door exhibited the same care 
 less and smiling bravery of mien, behaving invariably as if he 
 had the whole tenement to himself, and was neither proud of, 
 nor interested in the doings of his more spiritual inmate lead 
 ing you to suppose, almost, that the latter, though billeted upon 
 him, had not been properly introduced. The thatch of this com 
 mon tenement was of jetty black hair, curling in most opulent 
 prodigality, and, altogether, it was a house that Iladad, the fallen 
 spirit, might have chosen, when becoming incarnate to tempt the 
 sister of Absalom. 
 
 Perhaps you have been in Florence, dear reader, and know by
 
 168 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 what royal liberality artists are permitted to bring their easels 
 into the splendid apartments of the palace, and copy from the 
 priceless pictures on the walls. At the time I have my eye upon 
 (some few years ago), McDonald was making a beginning of a 
 copy of Titian's Bella, and near him stood the easel of a female 
 artist who was copying from the glorious picture of " Judith and 
 Holofernes," in the same apartment. Mademoiselle Folie (so she 
 was called by the elderly lady who always accompanied her) was 
 a small and very gracefully-formed creature, with the plainest 
 face in which attraction could possibly reside. She was a pas 
 sionate student of her art, pouring upon it apparently the entire 
 fulness of her life, and as unconsciously forgetful of her personal 
 impressions on those around her, as if she wore the invisible ring 
 ofvyges. The deference with which she was treated by her 
 staid companion drew some notice upon her, however, and her 
 progress, in the copy she was making, occasionally gathered the 
 artists about her easel ; and, altogether, her position among the 
 silent and patient company at work in the different halls of the 
 palace, was one of affectionate and tacit respect. McDonald 
 was her nearest neighbor, and they frequently looked over each 
 other's pictures, but, as they were both foreigners' in Florence 
 (she of Polish birth, as he understood), their conversation was in 
 French or Italian, neither of which languages were fluently famil 
 iar to Graeme, and it was limited generally to expressions of 
 courtesy or brief criticism of each other's labors. 
 
 As I said before, it was 'a " proof-impression" of a celestial 
 summer's morning, and the thermometer stood at heavenly idle 
 ness. McDonald sat with his maul-stick across his knees, drink 
 ing from Titian's picture. An artist, who had lounged in from 
 the next room, had hung himself by the crook of his arm over a
 
 THE COUNTESS NYSCHRIEM. 159 
 
 hi<ih peg, in his comrade's easel, and every now and then he vol 
 unteered an observation to which he expected no particular an 
 swer. 
 
 " When I remember how little beauty I have seen in the 
 world," said Ingarde (this artist), " I am inclined to believe with 
 Saturninus. that there is no resurrection of bodies, and that only 
 the spirits of the good return into the body of the Godhead for 
 what is ugliness to do in heaven ?" 
 McDonald only said, " hm hm !" 
 
 " Or rather," said Ingarde again, " I should like to fashion a 
 creed for myself, and believe that nothing was immortal but what 
 was heavenly, and that the good among men and the beautiful 
 among women would be the only reproductions hereafter. How 
 will this little' plain woman look in the streets of the New Jeru 
 salem, for example ? Yet she expects, as we all do, to be recog 
 nizable by her friends in Heaven, and, of course, to have the 
 same irredeemably plain face ! (Does she understand English, 
 by the way for she might not be altogether pleased with my 
 theory !") 
 
 " I have spoken to her very often," said McDonald, " and I 
 think English is Hebrew to her but my theory of beauty cross 
 es at least one coiner of your argument, my friend ! I believe 
 that the original type of every human face is beautiful, and that 
 every human being could be made beautiful, without, in any 
 essential particular, destroying the visible identity. The likeness 
 preserved in the faces of a family through several generations is 
 modified by the bad mental qualities, and the bad health of those 
 who hand it down. Remove these modifications, and without 
 destroying the family likeness, you would take away all that mars 
 the beauty of its particular type. An individual countenance is 
 8
 
 170 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 an integral work of God's making, and God saw that it was 
 good ' when he made it. Ugliness, as you phrase it, is the dam 
 age that type of countenance has received from the sin and suf 
 fering of life. But the type can be restored, and will be, doubt- 
 lub>, in Heaven !" 
 
 " And you think that little woman's face could be made beau 
 tiful?" 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 " Try it, then ! Here is your copy of Titian's ' Bella,' all fin 
 ished but the face. Make an apotheosis portrait of your neigh 
 bor, and while it harmonizes with the body of Titian's beauty, 
 still leave it recognizable as her portrait, and I'll give in to your 
 theory believing in all other miracles, if you like, at the samo 
 time !" 
 
 Ingarde laughed, as he went back to his own picture, and Mc 
 Donald, after sitting a few minutes lost in revery, turned his 
 easel so as to get a painter's view of his female neighbor. He 
 thought she colored slightly as he fixed his eyes upon her ; but, 
 if so, she apparently became very soon unconscious of his gaze, 
 and he was soon absorbed himself in the task to which his friend 
 had bo mockingly challenged him. 
 
 n. 
 
 [Excuse me, dear reader, while with two epistles I build a 
 bridge over which you can cross a chasm of a month in my story.] 
 
 " To GRAEME MCDONALD. 
 
 " Sir : I am intrusted with a delicate commission, which I 
 know not how to broach to you, except by simple proposal. 
 Will you forgive my abrupt brevity, if I inform you, without fur 
 ther preface, that the Countess Nyschriein, a Polish lady of high
 
 THE COUNTESS NYSCHRIEM. 
 
 birth and ample fortune, does you the honor to propose for your 
 baud. If you are disengaged, and your affections are not irre 
 vocably given to another, I can conceive no sufficient obstacle to 
 your acceptance of this brilliant connexion. The countess is 
 twenty-two, and not beautiful, it must in fairness be said ; but 
 she has high qualities of head and heart, and is worthy of any 
 man's respect and affection. She has seen you, of course, and 
 conceived a passion for you, of which this is the result. I am 
 directed to add, that should you consent, the following conditions 
 are imposed that you marry her within four days, making no 
 inquiry except as to her age, rank, and property, and that, with 
 out previous interview, she come veiled to the altar. 
 
 " An answer is requested in the course of to-morrow, address 
 ed to ' The Count Hanswald, minister of his majesty the king of 
 Prussia.' 
 
 " I have the honor, &c., &c. " HANSWALD." 
 
 McDonald's answer was as follows : 
 
 " To HIS EXCELLENCY, HANSWALD, &c., &c. 
 
 " You Vt'ill pardon roe that I have taken two days to consider 
 the extraordinary proposition made me in your letter. The sub 
 ject, since it is to be entertained a moment, requires, perhaps, 
 still further reflection but my reply shall be definite, and as 
 prompt as I can bring myself to be, in a matter so important. 
 
 " My first impulse was to return your letter, declining the honor 
 you would do me, and thanking the lady for the compliment of 
 her choice. My first reflection was the relief and happiness which 
 an independence would bring to a mother and two sisters depen 
 dent, now, on the precarious profits of my pencil. And I first 
 consented to ponder the matter with this view, and I now consent
 
 172 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 to marry (frankly) for this advantage. But still I have a condi 
 tion to propose. 
 
 " In the studies I have had the opportunity to make of the 
 happiness of imaginative men in matrimony, I have observed that 
 thuir two worlds of fact and fancy were seldom under the control 
 of one mistress. It must be a very extraordinary woman of 
 course, who, with the sweet domestic qualities needful for com 
 mon life, possesses at the same time the elevation and spirituality 
 requisite for the ideal of the poet and painter. And I am not 
 certain, in any case, whether the romance of some secret passion, 
 fed and pursued in the imagination only, be not the inseparable 
 necessity of a poetical nature. For the imagination is incapable 
 of being chained, and it is at ouce disenchanted and set roaming 
 by the very possession and certainty, which are the charms of 
 matrimony. Whether exclusive devotion of all the faculties of 
 mind and body be the fidelity exacted in marriage, is a question 
 every woman should consider before making a husband of an im 
 aginative man. As I have not seen the countess, I can general 
 ize on. the subject without giving offence, and she is the best 
 judge whether she can chain my fancy as well as my affections, or 
 yield to an imaginative mistress the devotion of so predominant a 
 quality of my nature. I can only promise her the constancy of 
 a husband. 
 
 " Still if this were taken for only vague speculation she 
 might be deceived. I must declare, frankly, that I am at pres 
 ent, completely possessed with an imaginative passion. The 
 object of it is probably as poor as I, and I could never marry her 
 were I to continue free. Probably, too, the high-born countesa 
 would be but little jealous of her rival, for she has no pretensions 
 to beauty, and is an humble artist. But, in painting this lady 'a
 
 THE COUNTESS NYSCHRIEM. 
 
 portrait (a chance experiment, to try whether so plain a face 
 could be made lovely) I have penetrated to so beautiful an 
 inner countenance (so to speak) I have found charms of impres 
 sion so subtly masked to the common eye I have traced such 
 exquisite lineament of soul and feeling, visible, for the present, I 
 believe, to my eye only that, while I live, I shall do irresistible 
 homage to her as the embodiment of my fancy's want, the very 
 Bpirit and essence suitable to rule over my unseen world of im 
 agination. Many whom I will, and be true to her as I shall, 
 this lady will (perhaps unknown to herself) be my mistress in 
 dream-land and revery. 
 
 " This inevitable license allowed my ideal world and its de 
 votions, that is to say, left entirely to myself I am ready to 
 accept the honor of the countess's hand. If, at the altar, she 
 should hear me murm'ur another name with her own (for tho 
 bride of my fancy must be present when I wed, and I shall link 
 the vows to both in one ceremony) let her not fear for my con 
 stancy to herself, but let her remember that it is not to offend 
 her hereafter, if the name of the other come to my lip in dreams. 
 
 " Your excellency may command my time and presence. 
 With high consideration, &c., 
 
 " GRAEME MCDONALD." 
 
 Kather agitated than surprised seemed Mademoiselle Folie, 
 when, the next day, as she arranged her brushes upon the shelf 
 of her easel, her handsome neighbor commenced, in the most 
 fluent Italian he could command, to invite her to his wedding. 
 Very much surprised was McDonald when she interrupted him in 
 English, and begwd him to use his native tongue, as madame, 
 her attendant, would not then understand him. He went on
 
 174 *'UN JOTTINGS. 
 
 delightedly in his own honest language, and explained to her his 
 .native admiration, though he felt compunctious, somewhat, 
 that so unreal a sentiment should bring the blood into her cheek. 
 She thanked him drew the cloth from the upper part of her 
 own picture, and showed him an admirable portrait of his hand 
 some features, substituted for the masculine head of Judith in the 
 original from which she copied and promised to be at his wed 
 ding, and to listen sharply for her murmured name in his vow at 
 the altar. He chanced to wear at the moment a ring of red cor 
 nelian, and he agreed with her that she should stand where he 
 could see her, and, at the moment of his putting the marriage 
 ring upon the bride's fingers, that she should put on this, and for 
 ever after wear it, as a token of having received his spiritual vows 
 of devotion. 
 
 The day came, and the splendid equipage of the countess 
 dashed into the square of Santa Maria, with a veiled bride and a 
 cold bridegroom, and deposited them at the steps of the church. 
 And they wflre followed by other coroneted equipages, and gayly 
 dressed from each the mother and sisters of the bridegroom 
 gayly dressed, among them, but looking pale with incertitude and 
 dread. 
 
 The veiled bride was small, but she moved gracefully up the 
 aisle, and met her future husband at the altar with a low courte 
 sy, and made a sign to the priest to proceed with the ceremony. 
 McDonald was colorless, but firm, and indeed showed little 
 interest, except by an anxious look now and then among the 
 crowd of spectators at the sides of the altar. He pronounced 
 with a steady voice, but when the ring was to be put on, he look 
 ed around for an instant, and then suddenly, and to the groat 
 scandal of the church, clasped his bride with a passionate ejacu-
 
 THE COUNTESS NYSCHRIEM. 175 
 
 lation to his bosom. The cornelian ring was on her finger and 
 the Countess Nyschriem and Mademoiselle Folie his bride and 
 his fancy queen were one. 
 
 This curious event happened in Florence some eight years 
 since as all people then there will remember and it was pro 
 phesied of the countess that she would have but a short lease of 
 her handsome and gay husband. But time does not say so. A 
 more constant husband than McDonald to his rSain and titled 
 wife, and one more continuously in love, does not travel and buy 
 pictures, and patronize artists though few except yourself and 
 I, dear reader, know the philosophy of it !
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS, 
 
 THE Emperor Yuentsoong, of the dynasty Chow, was the most 
 magnificent of the long-descended succession of Chinese sove 
 reigns. On his first accession to the throne, his character was so 
 little understood, that a conspiracy was set on foot among tho 
 yellow-caps, or eunuchs, to put out his eyes, and place upon the 
 throne the rebel Szeina, in whose warlike hands, they asserted, 
 the empire would more properly maintain its ancient glory. The 
 gravity and reserve which these myrmidons of the palace had con 
 strued into stupidity and fear, soon assumed another complexion, 
 however. The eunuchs silently disappeared ; the mandarins and 
 princes whom they had seduced from their allegiance, 'were made 
 loyal subjects by a generous pardon ; and in a few days after the 
 period fixed upon for the consummation of the plot, Yuentsoong 
 set forth in complete armor at the head of his troops to give bat 
 tle to the rebel in the mountains. 
 
 In Chinese annals this first enterprise of the youthful Yuent 
 soong is recorded with great pomp and particularity. Szema was 
 a Tartar prince of uncommon ability, young like the emperor, 
 and, during the few last imbecile years of the old sovereign, he 
 bad gathered strength in his rebellion, till now ho was at the head
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH BLOSSOMS. 
 
 of ninety thousand men, all soldiers of repute and tried valor. 
 The historian has unfortunately dimmed the emperor's fame to 
 European eyes, by attributing his wonderful achievements in this 
 expedition to his superiority in arts of magic. As this account 
 of his exploits is only prefatory to our tale, we will simply give 
 the reader an idea of the style of the historian, by translating lit 
 erally a passage or two of his description of the battle : 
 
 " Szema now took refuge within a cleft of the mountain, and 
 Yuentsoong, upon his swift steed, outstripping the body-guard in 
 his ardor, dashed amid the paralyzed troops with poised spear, his 
 eyes fixed only on the rebel. There was a silence of an instant, 
 broken only by the rattling hoofs of the intruder, and then, with 
 dishevelled hair and waving sword, Szema uttered a fearful im 
 precation. In a moment the wind rushed, the air blackened, and 
 with the suddenness of a fallen rock, a large cloud enveloped the 
 rebel, and innumerable men and horses issued out of it. Wings 
 flapped against the eyes of the emperor's horse, hellish noises 
 screamed in his ears, and, completely beyond control, the animal 
 turned and fled back through the narrow pass, bearing his impe 
 rial master safe into the heart of his army. 
 
 " Yuentsoong, that night, commanded some of his most expert 
 soldiers to scale the beetling heights of the ravine, bearing upon 
 their backs the blood of swine, sheep, and dogs, with other im 
 pure things, and these they were ordered to shower upon the 
 combatants at the sound of the imperial clarion. On the follow 
 ing morning, Szema came forth again to offer battle, with flags 
 displayed, drums beating, and shouts of triumph and defiance. 
 As on the day previous, the bold emperor divided, in his impa 
 tience, rank after rank of his own soldiery, and, followed closely 
 by his body-guard, drove the rebel army once more into their 
 8*
 
 178 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 fastness. Sz"ina .sat upon Ins war-horse as before, entrenched 
 amid his officers and ranks of the tallest Tartar spearmen, and 
 as the emperor contended hand to hand with one of the opposing 
 rebels, the magic imprecation was again uttered, the air again 
 filled with cloudy horsemen and chariots, and the mountain sha 
 ken with discordant thunder. Backing his willing steed, the em 
 peror blew a long sharp note upon his silver clarion, and in an 
 instant the sun broke through the darkness, and the air seemed 
 filled with paper men, horses of straw, and phantoms dissolving 
 into smoke. Yuentsoong and Szema now stood face to face, with 
 only mortal aid and weapons." 
 
 The historian goes on to record that the two armies suspended 
 hostilities at the command of their leaders, and that the emperor 
 and his rebel subject having engaged in single combat, Yeunt- 
 soong was victorious, and returned to his capital with the formida 
 ble enemy, whose life he had spared, riding beside him like a 
 brother. The conqueror's career, for several years after this, 
 seems to have been a series of exploits of personal valor, and the 
 Tartar prince shared in all his dangers and pleasures, his insepa 
 rable friend. It was during this period of romantic friendship 
 that the events occurred which have made Yuentsoonf one of the 
 
 O 
 
 idols of Chinese poetry. 
 
 By the side of a lake in a distant province of the empire, 
 stood one of the imperial palaces of pleasure, seldom visited, and 
 almost in ruins. Hither, in one of his moody periods of repose 
 from war, came the conqueror Yuentsoong, for the first time in 
 years separated from his faithful Szema. In disguise, and with 
 only one or two attendants, he established himself in the long 
 silr-nt halls of his ancestor Tsinchemong, and with his boat upon 
 the lake, and his spear in the forest, seemed to find all the amuse-
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS. 179 
 
 ment of svhich his melancholy was susceptible. On a certain day 
 ia the latter part of April, the emperor had set his sail to a fra 
 grant south wind, and reclining on the cushions of his bark, 
 watched the shore as it softly and silently glided past, and, the lake 
 being entirely encircled by the imperial forest, he felt immersed in 
 what he believed to be the solitude of a deserted paradise. After 
 skirting the fringed sheet of water in this manner for several 
 hours, he suddenly observed that he had shot through a streak of 
 peach-blossoms floating from the shore, and at the same moment 
 he became conscious that his boat was slightly headed off by 
 a current setting outward. Putting up his helm, he returned to 
 the spot, and beneath the drooping branches of some luxuriant 
 willows, thus early in leaf, he discovered the mouth of an inlet, 
 which, but for the floating blossoms it brought to the lake, would 
 have escaped the notice of the closest observer. The emperor 
 now lowered his sail, unshipped the slender mast, and betook him 
 to the oars, and as the current was gentle, -and the inlet \vider 
 within the mouth, he sped rapidly on, through what appeared to 
 be but a lovely and luxuriant vale of the forest. Still, those 
 blushing betrayers of some flowering spot beyond, extended like 
 a rosy clue before him, and with impulse of muscles swelled and 
 indurated in warlike exercise, the swift keel divided the besprent 
 mirror winding temptingly onward, and, for a long hour, the royal 
 oarsman untiringly threaded this sweet vein of the wilderness. 
 
 Resting a moment on his oars while the slender bark still kept 
 her way, he turned his head toward what seemed to be an open 
 ing in the forest on the left, and in the same instant the boat ran, 
 head on, to the shore, the inlet at this point almost doubling on 
 its course. Beyond, by the humming of bees, and the singing of 
 birds, there should be a spot more open than the tangled wilder-
 
 180 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ness he had passed, and disengaging his prow from the alders, he 
 shoved the boat again into the stream, and pulled round a high 
 rock, by which the inlet seemed to have been compelled to curve 
 its channel. The edge of a bright green meadow now stole into 
 the perspective, and, still widening with his approach, disclosed a 
 slightly rising terrace clustered with shrubs, and studded here and 
 there with vases ; and farther on, upon the same side of the 
 stream, a skirting edge of peach-trees, loaded with the gay blos 
 soms which had guided him hither. 
 
 Astonished at these signs of habitation in what was well under 
 stood to be a privileged wilderness, Yuentsoong kept his boat in 
 mid-stream, arid with his eyes vigilantly on the alert, slowly 
 made headway against the current. A few strokes with his oars, 
 however, traced another curve of the inlet, and brought into view 
 a grove of ancient trees scattered over a gently ascending lawn, 
 beyond which, hidden by the river till now by the projecting 
 shoulder of a mound, lay a small pavilion with gilded pillars, 
 glittering like fairy-work in the sun. The emperor fastened his 
 boat to a tree leaning over the water, and with his short spear in 
 his hand, bounded upon the shore, and took his way toward the 
 shining structure, his heart beating with a feeling of wonder aud 
 interest altogether new. On a nearer approach, the bases of the 
 pillars seemed decayed by time, and the gilding weather-stained 
 and tarni.-hod, but the trellised porticoes on the southern aspect 
 were laden with flowering shrubs, in vases of porcelain, and caged 
 birds sang between the pointed arches, and there were manifest 
 signs of luxurious taste, elegance, and care. 
 
 A moment, with an indefinable timidity, the emperor paused 
 before stepping from the green sward upon the marble floor of the 
 pavilion, and in that moment a curtain was withdrawn from the
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS 
 
 door, and a female, with step suddenly arrested by the sight of 
 the stranger, stood motionless before him. Ravished with her 
 extraordinary beauty, and awe-struck with the suddenness of the 
 apparition and the novelty of the adventure, the emperor's tongue 
 cleaved to his mouth, and ere he could summon resolution, even 
 for a gesture of courtesy, the fair creature had fled within, and 
 the curtain closed the entrance as before. 
 
 Wishing to re'eover his composure, so strangely troubled, and 
 taking it for granted that some other inmate of the house would 
 soon appear, Yuentsoong turned his steps aside to the grove, and 
 with his head bowed, and his spear in the hollow of his arm, tried 
 to recall more vividly the features of the vision he had seen. He 
 had walked but a few paces, when there came toward him from 
 the upper skirt of the grove, a man of unusual stature and erect- 
 ness, with white hair, unbraided on his shoulders, and every sign 
 of age except infirmity of step and mien. The emperor's habit 
 ual dignity had now rallied, and on his first salutation, the coun 
 tenance of the old man softened, and he quickened his pace to meet 
 and give him welcome. 
 
 " You are noble ? " he said, with confident inquiry. 
 
 Yuentsoong colored slightly.' 
 
 " I am," he replied, " Lew-melin, a prince of the empire." 
 
 " And by what accident here ? " 
 
 Yuentsoong explained, the clue of the peach-blossoms, and 
 represented himself as exiled for a time to the deserted palace 
 upon the lakes. 
 
 " I have a daughter," said the old man, abruptly, " who has 
 never looked on human face, save mine." 
 
 " Pardon me ! " replied his visitor ; " I have thoughtlessly in 
 truded on her sight, and a face more heavenly fair
 
 1 ga FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 The emperor hesitated, but the old man smiled encouragingly. 
 
 " It is time," he said, " that I should provide a younger de 
 fender for my bright Teh-leen, and Heaven has sent you in the 
 season of peach-blossoms, with provident kindness.* You have 
 frankly revealed to me your name and rank. Before I offer you 
 the hospitality of my roof, I must tell you mine. I am Choo- 
 tsecn, the outlaw, once of your own rank, and the general of the 
 Celestial army." 
 
 The emperor started, remembering that this celebrated rebel 
 was the terror of his father's throfle. 
 
 " You have heard my history," the old man continued. " I 
 had been, before my rebellion, in charge of the imperial palace on 
 the lake. Anticipating an evil day, I secretly prepared this re 
 treat for my family ; and when my soldiers deserted me at the 
 battle of Ke-chow, and a price was set upon my head, hither I 
 fled with my women and children ; and the last alive is my beau 
 tiful Teh-leen. With this brief outline of my life, you are at 
 liberty to leave me as you came, or to enter my house, on the 
 condition that you become the protector of my child." 
 
 The emperor eagerly turned toward the pavilion, and with a 
 step as light as his own, the erect and stately outlaw hastened to 
 lift the curtain before him. Leaving his guest for a moment in 
 the outer apartment, he entered to an inner chamber in search of 
 his daughter, whom he brought, panting with fear, and blushing 
 with surprise and delight, to her future lover and protector. A 
 portion of an historical tale so delicate as the description of the 
 heroine is not work for imitators, however, and we must copy 
 strictly the portrait of the matchless Teh-leen, as drawn by Le- 
 
 * The season of peach-blossoms was the only season of marringe in ancient 
 China
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS. 183 
 
 pih, the Anacreon of Chinese poetry, and the contemporary and 
 favorite of Yuentsoong. 
 
 " Teh-leen was born while the morning star shone upon the 
 bosom of her mother. Her eye was like the unblemished blue 
 lily, and its light like the white gem unfractured. The plum- 
 blossom is most fragrant when the cold has penetrated its stem, 
 and the mother of Teh-leen had known sorrow. The head of her 
 child drooped in thought, like a, violet overladen with dew. Be 
 wildering was Teh-leen. Her mouth's corners were dimpled, yet 
 pensive. The arch of her brows was like the vein in the tulip's 
 heart, and the lashes shaded the blushes on her cheek. With the 
 delicacy of a pale rose, her complexion put to shame the floating 
 light of day. Her waist, like a thread in fineness, seemed ready 
 to break ; yet was it straight and erect, and feared not the fan 
 ning breeze ; and her shadowy grace was as difficult to delineate, 
 as the form of the white bird rising from the ground by moon 
 light. The natural gloss of her hair resembled the uncertain 
 sheen of calm water, yet without the false aid of unguents. The 
 native intelligence of her mind seemed to have gained strength 
 by retirement, and he who beheld her, thought not of her as hu 
 man. Of rare beauty, of rarer intellect was Teh-leen, and her 
 heart responded to the poet's lute." 
 
 We have not space, nor could we, without copying directly 
 from the admired Le-pih, venture to describe the bringing of 
 Teh-leen to court, and her surprise at finding herself the favorite 
 of the emperor. It is a romantic circumstance, besides, which 
 has had its parallels in other countries. But the sad sequel to 
 the loves of poor Teh-leen is but recorded in the cold page of his 
 tory ; and if the poet, who wound up the climax of her perfec 
 tions, with her susceptibility to his lute, embalmed her sorrows in
 
 184 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 verse, he was probably too politic to ftring it ever to li^ht. Pass 
 we to these neglected and unadorned passages of her history. 
 
 Yuentsoong's nature was passionately devoted and confiding ; 
 and, like two brothers with one favorite sister, lived together 
 Teh-leen, Szema, and the emperor. The Tartar prince, if his 
 heart knew a mistress before the arrival of T^h-leen at the palace, 
 owned afterward no other than her ; and fearless of check or sus 
 picion from the noble confidence and generous friendship of 
 Yuentsoong, he seemed to live but for her service, and to have 
 neither energies nor ambition except for the winning of her 
 smiles. Szema was of great personal beauty, frank when it did 
 not serve him to be wily, bold in his pleasures, and of manners 
 almost femininely soft and voluptuous. He was renowned as a 
 soldier, and for Teh-leen, he became a poet and master of the 
 lute ; and, like all men formed for ensnaring the heart of women, 
 he seemed to forget himself in the absorbing devotion of his idol 
 atry. His friend, the emperor, was of another mould. Yuent- 
 Boong's heart had three chambers love, friendship, and glory. 
 Teh-leen was but a third in his existence, yet he loved her the 
 sequel will show how well ! In person he was less beautiful than 
 majestic, of large stature, and with a brow and lip naturally stern 
 and lofty. He seldom smiled, even upon Teh-leen, whom he 
 would watch for hours in pensive and absorbed delight ; but his 
 euiile, when it did awake, broke over his sad countenance like 
 morning. All men loved and honored Yuentsoong, and- all men, 
 except only the emperor, looked on Szema with antipathy. To 
 such natures as the former, women give all honor and approba 
 tion ; but for such as the latter, they reserve their weakness ! 
 
 Wrapt up in his friend and mistress, and reserved in his inter 
 course with his counsellors, Yuentsoong knew not that, through-
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS. 185 
 
 out the imperial city, Szema .was called " the, kieu," or robber- 
 bird, and his fair Teh-leen openly charged with dishonor. Go 
 ing out alone to hunt as was his custom, and having left his signet 
 with Szema, to pass and repass through the private apartments at his 
 pleasure, his horse fell with him unaccountably in the open field. 
 Somewhat superstitious, and remembering that good spirits some 
 times " knit the grass," when other obstacles fail to bar our way 
 into danger, the emperor drew rein and returned to his palace. It 
 was an hour after noon, and having dismissed his attendants at 
 the city gate, he entered by a postern to the imperial garden, and 
 bethought himself of the concealed couch in a cool grot by a 
 fountain (a favorite retreat, sacred to himself and Teh-leen), 
 where he fancied it would be refreshing to sleep away the sultri 
 ness of the remaining hours till evening. Sitting down by the 
 side of the murmuring fount, he bathed his feet, and left his slip 
 pers on the lip of the basin to be unencumbered in his jepose 
 within, and so with unechoing step entered the resounding grotto. 
 Alas ! there slumbered the faithless friend with the guilty Teh- 
 leen upon his bosom ! 
 
 Grief struck through the noble heart of the emperor like a 
 sword in cold blood. With a word he could consign to torture 
 and death the robber of his honor, but there was agony in his 
 bosom deeper than levenge. He turned silently away, recalled 
 his horse and huntsmen, and, outstripping all, plunged on 
 through the forest till night gathered around him. 
 
 Yuentsoong had been absent many days from his capitol, and 
 his subjects were murmuring their fears for his safety, when 
 a messenger arrived to the counsellors, informing them of the ap 
 pointment of the captive Tartar prince to the government of the 
 province of Szechuen, the second honor of the Celestial empire.
 
 186 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 A private order accompanied the announcement, commanding the 
 immediate departure of Szema for the scene of his new authority. 
 Inexplicable as was this riddle to the multitude, there were those 
 who read it truly by their knowledge of the magnanimous soul of 
 the emperor ; and among these was the crafty object of his gen 
 erosity. Losing no time, he set forward with great pomp for 
 Szechuen, and in their joy to see him no more at the palace, the 
 slighted princes of the empire forgave his unmerited advancement. 
 Yuentsoong returned to his capitol ; but to the terror of his 
 counsellors and people, his hair was blanched white as the head 
 of an old man ! He was pale as well, but he was cheerful and 
 kind beyond his wont, and to Teh-leen untiring in pensive and 
 humble attentions. He pleaded only impaired health and rest 
 less slumbers as an apology for nights of solitude. Once, Teh- 
 leen penetrated to his lonely chamber, but by the dim night-lamp 
 she saw that the scroll over her window* was changed, and 
 instead of the stimulus to glory which formerly hung in golden 
 letters before his eyes, there was a sentence written tremblingly 
 in black : 
 
 "The close wing of love covers the death-throb of honor." 
 
 Six months from this period the capital was thrown into a 
 tumult with the intelligence that the province of Szechueu was in 
 rebellion, and Szema at the head of a numerous army on his way 
 
 * The most common decorations of rooms, halls and temples, in China, are 
 ornamental scrolls or labels of colored paper, or wood painted and gilded, and 
 hung over doors or windows, and inscribed with a line or couplet conveying 
 some allusion to the circumstances of the inhabitant, or some pious or philo 
 sophical axiom. For instance, a poetical one recorded by Dr. Morrison : 
 
 " From the pino forest the azote dragon ascends to the milky way," 
 typical of the prosperous man arising to wealth and honors.
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS. 137 
 
 to seize the throne of Yuentsoong. This last sting betrayed the 
 serpent even to the forgiving emperor, and tearing the reptile at 
 last from his heart, he entered with the spirit of other times into 
 the warlike preparations. The imperial army was in a few days 
 on its march, and at Keo-yang the opposing forces met and pre 
 pared for encounter. 
 
 With a dread of the popular feeling towards Teh-leen, Yuent 
 soong had commanded for her a close litter, and she was borne 
 after the imperial standard in the centre of the army. On the 
 eve before the battle, ere the watch-fires were lit, the emperor 
 came to her tent, set apart from his own, and with the delicate 
 care and kind gentleness from which he never varied, inquired 
 how her wants were supplied, and bade her, thus early, farewell 
 for the night ; his own custom of passing among his soldiers on 
 the evening previous to an engagement, promising to interfere 
 with what was usually his last duty before retiring to his couch. 
 Teh-leen on this occasion seemed moved by some irrepressible 
 emotion, and as he rose to depart, she fell forward upon her face, 
 and bathed his feet with her tears. Attributing it to one of those 
 excesses of feeling to which all, but especially hearts ill at ease, 
 are liable, the noble monarch gently raised her, and, with repeat 
 ed efforts at reassurance, committed her to the hands of her 
 women. His own heart beat far from tranquilly, for, in the 
 excess of his pity for her grief he had unguardedly called her^ by 
 one of the sweet names of their early days of love strange word 
 now upon his lip and it brought back, spite of memory and truth, 
 happiness that would not be forgotten ! 
 
 It was past midnight, and the moon was riding high in heaven, 
 when the emperor, returning between the lengthening watch-fires, 
 sought the small lamp which, suspended like a star above his own
 
 188 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 tent, guided him back from the irregular mazes of the camp. 
 Paled by the intense radiance of the moonlight, the small globe 
 of alabaster at length became apparent to his weary eye, and 
 with one glance at the peaceful beauty of the heavens, he parted 
 the curtained door beneath it, and stood within. The Chinese 
 historian asserts that a bird, from whose wing Teh-leen had 
 once plucked an arrow, restoring it to liberty and life, and in 
 grateful attachment to her destiny, removed the lamp from the 
 imperial tent, and suspended it over hers. The emperor 
 stood beside her couch. Startled at his 'inadvertent error, he 
 turned to retire ; but the lifted curtain let in a flood of moon- 
 liirht upon the sleeping features of Teh-leen, and like dew-drops, 
 the undried tears glistened in her silken lashes. A lamp burned 
 faintly in the inner apartment of the tent, and her attendants 
 slept soundly. His soft heart gave way. Taking up the lamp, 
 he held it over his beautiful mistress, and once more gazed pas 
 sionately and unrestrainedly on her unparalleled beauty. The 
 past the early past was alone before him. He forgave her 
 there, as she slept, unconscious of the throbbing of his injured, 
 but noble heart, so close beside her he forgave her in the long 
 silent abysses of his soul ! Unwilling to wake her from her 
 tranquil slumber, but promising to himself, from that hour, such 
 sweets of confiding love as had well nigh been lost to him for 
 ever, he imprinted one kiss upon the parted lips of Teh-leen, and 
 sought his couch for slumber. 
 
 Ere daybreak the emperor was aroused by one of his attend 
 ants with news too important for delay. Szema, the rebel, had 
 been arrested in the imperial camp, disguised, and on his vray 
 back to his own forces, and like wild-fire, the information had 
 spread among the soldiery, who in a state of mutinous excitement,
 
 THE INLET OF PEACH-BLOSSOMS. 180 
 
 were with difficulty restrained from rushing upon the tent of Teh- 
 leen. At the door of his tent, Yuentsoong found messengers 
 from the alarmed princes and officers of the different commands, 
 imploring immediate aid and the imperial presence to allay the 
 excitement, and while the emperor prepared to mount his horse, 
 the guard arrived with the Tartar prince, ignominiously tied, and 
 bearing marks of rough usage from his indignant captors. 
 
 *' Loose him !" cried the emperor, in a voice of thunder. 
 
 The cords were severed, and with a glance whose ferocity ex 
 pressed no thanks, Szema reared himself up to his fullest height, 
 and looked scornfully around him. Daylight had now broke, 
 and as the group stood upon an eminence in sight of the whole 
 army, shouts began to ascend, and the armed multitude, breaking 
 through all restraint, rolled in toward the centre. Attracted by 
 the commotion, Yuentsoong turned to give some orders to those 
 near him, when Szema suddenly sprung upon an officer of the 
 guard, wrenched his drawn sword from his grasp, and in an 
 instant was lost to sight in the tent of Teh-leen. A sharp 
 scream, a second of thought, and forth again rushed the despe 
 rate murderer, with his sword flifaging drops of blood, and ere a 
 foot stirred in the paralyzed group, the avenging cimeter of 
 Yuentsoong had cleft him to the chin. 
 
 A hush, as if the whole army was struck dumb by a bolt from 
 heaven, followed this rapid tragedy. Dropping the polluted 
 sword from his hand, the emperor, with uncertain step, and the 
 pallor of death upon his countenance, entered the fatal tent. 
 
 He came no more forth that day. The army was marshalled 
 by the princes, and the rebels were routed with great slaughter ; 
 but Yuentsoong never more wielded sword. '' He pined to 
 death," says the historian, " with the wane of the same moon 
 that shone upon the forgiveness of Teh-leen."
 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRY; 
 
 OR, THE DARING LOVER. 
 
 A GRISETTE is something else beside a " mean girl" or a "gray 
 gown," the French dictionary to- the contrary notwithstanding. 
 Bless me ! you should see the grisettes of Rochepot ! And if 
 you wished to take a lesson in political compacts, you should un 
 derstand the grisette confederacy of Rochepot ! They were 
 working-girls, it is true dressmakers, milliners, shoebinders, 
 tailoresses, flowermakers, embroideresses and they never expect 
 ed to be anything more aristocratic. And in that content lay 
 their power. 
 
 The grisettes of Rochepot were a good fourth of the female 
 population. They had their jealousies, and little scandals, and 
 heart-burnings, and plottings, and counterplottings (for they were 
 women) among themselves. But they made common cause 
 against the enemy. 1 hey would bear no disparagement. They 
 knew exactly what was due to them, and what was due to their 
 superiors, and they paid and gave credit in the coin of good- 
 manners, as cannot be done in countries of " liberty and equality." 
 Still there were little shades of difference in the attention shown 
 them by their employers, and they worked twice as much in a day
 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRY. 
 
 when sewing for Madame Durozcl, who took her dinner with them, 
 sans fafon in the work-room, as for old Madame Chiquette, who 
 dined all alone in her grand saloon, and left them to eat by them 
 selves among their shreds and scissors. But these were not slights 
 which they seriously resented. Woe only to the incautious dame 
 who dared to scandalize one of their number, or dispute her dues, 
 or encroach upon her privileges ! They would make Rochepot as 
 uncomfortable for her, parlleu. ! as a kettle to a slow-boiled lob 
 ster. 
 
 But tH prettiest grisette of Rochepot was not often permitted 
 to join her companions in their self-chaperoned excursions on the 
 holydays. Old dame Pomponney was the sexton's widow, and 
 she had the care of the great clock of St. Roch, and of one only 
 daughter; and excellent care she took of both her charges. 
 They lived all three in the belfry dame, clock, and daugh 
 ter and it was a bright day for Thenais when she got out of 
 hearing of that tl tick, tick, tick," and of the thumping of her 
 mother's cane on the long staircase, which always kept time with it. 
 
 Not that old Dame Pomponney had any objection to have her 
 daughter convenably married. She had been deceived in her 
 youth (or so it was whispered) by a lover above her condition, 
 and she vowed by the cross on her cane, that her daughter should 
 have no sweetheart above a journeyman mechanic. Now the 
 romance of the grisettes (parlous las !) was to have one charm 
 ing little flirtation with a gentleman before they married the 
 leather-apron just to show that, had they by chance been born 
 ladies, they could have played their part to the taste of their 
 lords. But it was at this game that Dame Pomponney had burnt 
 her fingers, and she had this one subject for the exercise of her 
 powers of mortal aversion.
 
 1J2 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 When I Lave added that, four miles from Rochepot, stood 
 the Chateau de Brevanne, and that the old Count de Brevanne 
 was a proud aristocrat of the ancien regimf, with one son, the 
 young Count Felix, whom he had educated at Paris, I think I 
 have prepared you tolerably for the little romance I have to tell 
 you. 
 
 It was a fine Sunday morning that a mounted hussar appeared 
 in the street of Rochepot. The grisettes were all abroad in their 
 holyday paru re, and the gay soldier soon made an acquaintance 
 with one of them at the door of the inn, and informed her that he 
 had been sent on to prepare the old barracks for his troop. The 
 hussars were to be quartered a month at Rochepot. Ah ! what 
 a joyous bit of news ! And six officers beside the colonel ! And 
 the trumpeters were miracles at playing quadrilles and waltzes ! 
 And not a plain man in the regiment except always the speaker. 
 And none, except the old colonel, had ever been in love in his 
 life. But as this last fact required to be sworn to, of course he 
 was ready to kiss the book or, in the absence of the book, the 
 next most sacred object of his adoration. 
 
 " Finissez done, Monsieur !" exclaimed his pretty listener, and 
 away she ran to spread the welcome intelligence with its delight 
 ful particulars. 
 
 The next day the troop rode into Rochepot, and formed in the 
 great square in front of St. Roch ; and by the time the trumpeters 
 had played themselves red in the face, the hussars were all ap 
 propriated, to a man for the grisettes knew enough of a march 
 ing regiment to lose no time. They all found leisure to pity poor 
 TL^nais, however, for there she stood in one of the high windows 
 of the belfry, looking down on the gay crowd below, and they 
 knew very well that old Dame Pomponney had declared all
 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRY. 193 
 
 soldiers to be gay deceivers, and forbidden her daughter to stir 
 into the street while they were quartered at Rochepot. 
 
 Of course the grisettes managed to agree as to each other's se 
 lection of a sweetheart from the troop, and of course each hussar 
 thankfully accepted the pair of eyes that fell to him. For, aside 
 from the limited duration of their stay, soldiers are philosophers, 
 and know that " life is short," and it is better " to take the goods 
 " the gods provide." But " after everybody was helped," as they 
 say at a feast, there appeared another short jacket and foraging 
 cap, very much to the relief of red-headed Susette, the shoebind- 
 er, who had been left out in the previous allotment. And 
 Susette made the amiable accordingly, but to no purpose, for the 
 lad seemed an idiot with but one idea looking for ever at 
 St. Roch's clock to know the time of day ! The grisettes 
 laughed and asked their sweethearts his name, but they signifi- 
 antly pointed to their foreheads and whispered something about 
 poor Robertin's being a privileged follower of the regiment and a 
 protege of the colonel. 
 
 Well, the grisettes flirted, and the old clock at St. Roch 
 ticked on, and Susette and Thenais, the plainest and the prettiest 
 girl in the village, seemed the only two who were left out in the 
 extra dispensation of lovers. And poor Robertin still persisted 
 in occupying most of his leisure with watching the time of day. 
 
 It was on the Sunday morning after the arrival of the troop 
 that old Dame Pomponney went up. as usual, to do her Sunday's 
 duty in winding up the clock. She had previously locked the 
 belfry door to be sure that no one entered below while she was 
 above ; but the Virgin help us ! on the top stair, gazing into 
 the machinery of the clock with absorbed attention, sat one of 
 those devils of hussars ! " Thief," " vagabond," and " house- 
 9
 
 191 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 breaker," were the most moderate epithets with which Dame 
 Pomponney accompanied the enraged beating of her stick on the 
 resounding platform. She was almost beside herself with rage. 
 And Thenais had been up to dust the wheels of the clock ! And 
 Low did she know that that scelerat of a trooper was not there 
 all the time ! 
 
 But the intruder, whose face had been concealed till now, 
 turned suddenly round and began to gibber and grin like a pos 
 sessed monkey. He pointed at the clock, imitated the " tick, 
 tick, tick," laughed till the big bell gave out an echo like a groan, 
 and then suddenly jumped over the old dame's stick and ran down 
 Etairs. 
 
 <; Eh, Sainte ViergeT 1 exclaimed the old dame, "it's a poor 
 idiot after all ! And he has stolen up to see what made the clock 
 tick ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Well ! well ! I cannot come up these 
 weary stairs twice a day, and I must wind up the clock before I 
 go down to let him out ' Tick, tick, tick !' poor lad ! poor 
 lad ! They must have dressed him up to make fun of him 
 those vicious troopers ! Well ! well !'' 
 
 And with. pity in her heart, Dame Pomponney hobbled down, 
 stair after stair, to her chamber in the square turret of the belfry, 
 and there she found the poor idiot on his knees before Thenais, 
 and Thenais was just preparing to put a skein of thread over his 
 thumbs, for she thought she might make him useful and amuse 
 him with the winding of it till her mother came down. But as 
 the thread got vexatiously entangled, and the poor lad sat as pa 
 tiently as a wooden reel, and it was time to go below to mass, the 
 dame thought she might as well leave him there till she came 
 back, and down she stumped, locking the door very safely behind 
 her.
 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRY 195 
 
 Poor Thenais was very lonely in the belfry, and Dame Pom- 
 ponney, who had a tender heart where her duty was not involved, 
 rather rejoiced when she returned, to find an unusual glow of de 
 light on her daughter's cheek ; and if Thenais could find so much 
 pleasure in the society of a poor idiot lad, it was a sign, too, that 
 her heart was not gone altogether after those abominable troop- 
 - ers. It was time to send the innocent youth about his business, 
 however, so she gave him a holyday cake and led him down stairs 
 and dismissed him with a pat on his back and a strict injunction 
 never to venture again up to the u tick, tick, tick." But as she 
 had had a lesson as to the accessibility of her bird's nest, she 
 determined thenceforth to lock the door invariably and carry the 
 key in her pocket. 
 
 While poor Robertin was occupied with his researches into 
 the " tick, tick, tick," never absent a day from the neighborhood 
 of the tower, the more fortunate hussars were planning to give 
 the grisettes aftte c/uimpetre. One of the saints' days was com 
 ing round, and, the weather permitting, all the vehicles of the 
 village were to be levied, and, with the troop-horses in harness, 
 they were to drive to a small wooded valley in the, neighborhood 
 of the chateau de Brevanne, where seclusion and a mossy carpet 
 of grass were combined in a little paradise for such enjoyment. 
 
 The morning of this merry day dawned, at last, and the gri 
 settes and theirad mirers were stirring betimes, for they were to 
 breakfast sur F/ierbe, and they were not the people to turn break 
 fast into dinner. The sky was clear, and the dew was not very 
 heavy on the grass, and merrily the vehicles rattled about the 
 town, picking up their fair freights from its obscurest corners. 
 But poor Thenais looked out, a sad prisoner, from her high win 
 dow in the belfry.
 
 196 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 It was a half hour after sunrise and Dame Pompouney was 
 creeping up stairs after her matins, thanking Heaven that she 
 had been firm in her refusals at least twenty of the grisettes 
 having gathered about her, and pleaded for a day's freedom for 
 her imprisoned daughter. She rested on the last landing but one 
 to take a little breath but hark ! a man's voice talking in the 
 belfry ! She listened again, and quietly slipped her feet out of 
 her high-heeled shoes. The voice was again audible yet how 
 could it be ! She knew that no one could have passed up the 
 stair, for the key had been kept in her pocket more carefully 
 than usual, and, save by the wings of one of her own pigeons, 
 the belfry window was inaccessible, she was sure. Still the voice 
 went ou in a kind of pleading murmur, and the dame stole softly 
 up in her stockings, and noiselessly opened the door. There 
 stood Thenais at the window, but she was alone in the room. 
 At the same instant the voice was heard again, and sure now 
 that one of those desperate hussars had climbed th tower, and 
 unable to control her rage at the audacity of the attempt, Dame 
 Pomponney clutched her cane and rushed forward to aim a blow 
 at the militajy cap now visible at the sill of the window. But 
 at the same instant the head of the intruder was thrown back, 
 and the gibbering and idiotic smile of poor Robertin checked 
 her blow in its descent, and turned all her anger into pity. 
 Poor, silly lad ! he had contrived to draw up the garden ladder 
 and place it upon the roof of the stone porch below, to climb 
 and offer a flower to Thenais ! Not unwilling to have her daugh 
 ter's mind occupied with some other thought than the forbidden 
 excursion, the dame offered her hand to Robertin and drew him 
 gently in at the window. And as it was now market-time she
 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRY. 197 
 
 bid Thenais be kind to the poor boy, and locking the door behind 
 her, trudged contentedly off with her stick and basket. 
 
 I am sorry to be obliged to record an act of filial disobedience 
 in the heroine of my story. An hour after, Thenais was wel 
 comed with acclamations as she suddenly appeared with Robertin 
 in the midst of the merry party of grisettes. With Robertin 
 not as he had hitherto been seen, his cap on the back of his head 
 and his under lip hanging loose like an idiot's but with Robertin, 
 gallant, spirited, and gay, the handsomest of hussars, and the 
 most joyous of companions. And Thenais, spite of her hasty 
 toilet and the cloud of conscious disobedience which now and then 
 shaded her sweet smile, was, by many degrees, the belle of the 
 hour ; and the palm of beauty, for once in the world at least, 
 was yielded without envy. The grisettes dearly love a bit of 
 romance, too, and the circumventing of old Dame Pomponney by 
 his ruse of idiocy, and the safe extrication of the prettiest girl of 
 the village from that gloomy old tower, was quite enough to make 
 Robertin a hero, and his sweetheart Thenais more interesting 
 than a persecuted princess. 
 
 And, seated on the ground while their glittering cavaliers 
 served them with breakfast, the light-hearted grisettes of Rochepot 
 were happy enough to be envied by their betters. But suddenly 
 the sky darkened, and a slight gust murmuring among the trees, 
 announced the coming up of a summer storm. Sauve qui peut ! 
 The soldiers were used to emergencies, and they had packed up 
 and reloaded their cars and were under way for shelter almost as 
 soon as the grisettes, and away they all fled toward the nearest 
 grange one of the dependencies of the chateau de Brevanne. 
 
 But Robertin, now, had suddenly become the director and rul 
 ing spirit of the festivities. The soldiers treated him with in-
 
 198 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 stinctive deference, the old farmer of the grange hurried out with 
 his keys and unlocked the great storehouse, and disposed of the 
 horses under shelter ; and by the time the big drops began to 
 fall, the party were dancing gayly and securely on the dry and 
 smooth thrashing-floor, and the merry harmony of the martial 
 trumpets and horns rang out far and wide through the gathering 
 tempest. 
 
 The rain began to come down yery heavily, and the clatter of 
 a horse's feet in a rapid gallop was heard in one of the pauses in 
 the waltz. Some one seeking shelter, no doubt. On went the 
 bewitching music again, and at this moment two or three couples 
 ceased waltzing, and the floor was left to Robertin and Thenais, 
 whose graceful motions drew all eyes upon them in admiration. 
 Smiling in each other's faces, and wholly unconscious of any 
 other presence than their own, they whirled blissfully around 
 but there was now another spectator. The horseman who had 
 bee,n heard to approach, had silently joined the party, and mak 
 ing a courteous gesture to signify that the dancing was not to be 
 interrupted, he smiled back the courtesies of the pretty grisettes 
 for, aristocratic as he was, he was a polite man to the sex, was 
 the^ Count de Brevanne. 
 
 " Felix !" he suddenly cried out, in a tone of surprise and an 
 ger. 
 
 The music stopped at that imperative call, and Robertin turn 
 ed his eyes, astonished, in the direction from which it came. 
 
 The name was repeated from lip to lip among the erisettes, 
 " Felix !" " Count Felix de Brevanne !" 
 
 But without deigning another word, the old man pointed with 
 his riding-whip to the farm-house. The disguised count respect-
 
 THE BELLE OF THE BELFRt. 199 
 
 fully bowed his head, but held Thenais by the hand and drew her 
 gently with him. 
 
 " Leave her ! disobedient boy !" exclaimed the father. 
 But as Count Felix tightened his hold upon the small hand he 
 held, and Thenais tried to shrink back from the advancing old 
 man, old Dame Pomponney, streaming with rain, broke in unex 
 pectedly upon the scene. 
 
 " Disgrace not your blood," said the Count de Brevanne at that 
 moment. 
 
 The offending couple stood alone in the centre of the floor, and 
 the dame comprehended that her daughter was disparaged. 
 
 " And who is disgraced by dancing with my daughter :" she 
 screamed with furious gesticulation. 
 
 The old noble made no answer, but the grisettes, in an under 
 tone, murmured the name of Count Felix ! 
 
 " Is it he the changeling ! the son of a poor gardener, that is 
 disgraced by the touch of my daughter r" 
 
 A dead silence followed this astounding exclamation. The old 
 dame had forgotten herself in her rage, and she looked about 
 with a terrified bewilderment but the mischief was done. The 
 old man stood aghast. Count Felix clung still closer to Thenais, 
 but his face expressed the most eager inquisitiveness. The gri 
 settes gathered around Dame Pomponney, and the old count, left 
 standing and alone, suddenly drew his cloak about him and step 
 ped forth into the rain ; and in another moment his horse's feet 
 were heard clattering away in the direction of the chateau de 
 Brevanne. 
 
 We have but to tell the sequol. 
 
 The incautious revelation of the old dame turned out to be 
 true. The dying infant daughter of the Marchioness de Brevanne
 
 :?!10 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 had been changed for the healthy son of the count's gardener, to 
 secure an heir to the name and estates of the nearly extinct fam 
 ily of Brevanne. Dame Pomponney had assisted in this secret, 
 and but for her heart full of rage at the moment, to which the 
 old count's taunt was but the last drop, the secret would probably 
 have never been revealed. Count Felix, who had played truant 
 from his college at Paris, to come and hunt up some of his child 
 ish playfellows, in disguise, had remembered and disclosed him- 
 polf to the little Thenais, who was not sorry to recognize him, 
 while he played the idiot in the belfry. .But of course there was 
 now no obstacle to their union, and united they were. The old 
 count pardoned him, and gave the new couple a portion of his 
 estate, and they named their first child Robertin, as was natural 
 enough.
 
 MOST men have two or more souls, and Jem Thalimer was a 
 doublet, with sets of manners corresponding. Indeed one identity 
 could never have served the pair of him ! When sad that is to 
 say, when in disgrace or out of money he had the air of a good 
 man with a broken heart. .When gay flush in pocket and hap 
 py in his little ambitions you would have thought Lim a danger 
 ous companion for his grandmother. The last impression did 
 him more injustice than the first, for he was really very amiably 
 disposed when depressed, and not always wicked when gay but 
 he made friends in both characters. People seldom forgive us 
 for compelling them to correct their first impressions of us, and as 
 this was uniformly the case with Jem, whether he had begfin as 
 saint or sinner, he was commonly reckoned a deep-water fish ; 
 and where there were young ladies in the case, early warned off 
 the premises. The remarkable exception to this rule, in. the in 
 cident I am about to relate, arose, as may naturally be supposed, 
 from his appearing, during a certain period, in one character 
 only. 
 
 To begin my story fairly, I must go back for a moment to our 
 junior Jem in college, showing, by a little passage in our adven- 
 9*
 
 202 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 turcs, how Thalimer and I became acquainted with the confiding 
 gentleman to be referred to. 
 
 A college suspension, very agreeably timed, in June, left my 
 friend Jem and myself masters of our travels for an uncertain 
 period ; and as our purse was always in common, like our shirts, 
 love-letters, and disgraces, our several borrowings were thrust 
 into a wallet which was sometimes in his pocket, sometimes in 
 mine, as each took the turn to be paymaster. With the (inter 
 cepted) letters in our pockets, informing the governors of our de 
 graded position, we travelled very prosperously on bound to 
 Niagara, but very ready to fall into any obliquity by the way. We 
 arrived at Albany, Thalimer chancing to be purser, and as this 
 function tacitly conferred on the holder all other responsibilities, 
 I made myself comfortable at the hotel for the second day and 
 the third up to the 'seventh rather wondering at Jem's 
 depressed spirits and the sudden falling off of his enthusiasm for 
 Niagara, but content to stay, if he liked, and amusing myself in 
 the side-hill city passably well. It was during my rambles with 
 out him in this week that he made the acquaintance of a bilious- 
 looking person, lodging at the same hotel a Louisianian on 
 a tour of health. This gentleman, whom he introduced to 
 me by the name of Dauchy, seemed to have formed a sudden 
 attachment to my friend, and as Jem had a " secret sorrow" 
 unusual to him, and the other an unusual secretion of bile, there 
 was of course between them that " secret sympathy" which is the 
 basis of many tender friendships. I rather liked Mr. Dauchy. 
 He seemed one of those chivalric, polysyllabic southerners, inca 
 pable of a short word or a mean action, and, interested that Jem 
 should retain his friendship, I was not sorry to find our departure 
 follow close on the recovery of his spirits.
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 203 
 
 We went on toward Niagara, and in the irresistible confidence 
 of canal travelling I made out the secret of my fidus achates. 
 He had attempted to alleviate the hardship of a deck passage 
 for a bright-eyed girl on board the steamer, and, on going below 
 to his berth, left her his greatcoat for a pillow. The stuffed 
 wallet, which somewhat distended the breast pocket, was probably 
 in the way of her downy cheek, and Jem supposed that she 
 simply forgot to return the " removed deposite" but he did not 
 miss his money till twelve hours after, and then between lack of 
 means to pursue her, and shame at the sentiment he had wasted, 
 tept the disaster to himself, and passed a melancholy week in 
 devising means for replenishing. Through^this penseroso vein, 
 however, lay his way out of the difficulty, for he thus touched 
 the soul and funds of Mr. Dauchy. The correspondence (com 
 menced by the repayment of the loan) was kept up stragglingly 
 for several years, bolstered somewhat by barrels of marmalade, 
 boxes of sugar, hommony, &c., till finally it ended in the 
 unlooked-for consignment which forms the subject of my story. 
 
 Jem and myself had been a year out of college, and were pass 
 ing through that " tight place' 1 in life, commonly understood in 
 Now England as " the going in at the little end of the horn.'' 
 Expected by our parents to take to money-making like ducks to 
 swimming, deprived at once of college allowance, called on to be 
 men because our education was paid for, and frowned upon at 
 every manifestation of a lingering taste for pleasure it was not 
 surprising that we sometimes gave tokens of feeling " crowded," 
 and obtained somewhat the reputation of " bad subjects" (using 
 this expressive phrase quite literally). Jem's share of this odor 
 of wickedness was much the greater, bis unlucky deviltry of 
 countenance doing him its usual disservice ; but like the gentle-
 
 204 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 man to whom he was attributed as a favorite protege, he was 
 " not so black as he was painted." 
 
 We had been so fortunate as to find one believer in the future 
 culmination of our clouded stars Gallagher, " mine host" and 
 for value to be received when our brains should fructify, his white 
 soup and " red-string Madeira," his game, turtle, and all the 
 forthcomings of the best restaurant of our epoch, were served 
 lovingly and charged moderately. Peace be with the ashes of 
 William Gallagher ! " The brains have fructified, and " the 
 value" has been received but his name and memory are not 
 11 filed away with the receipt ; and though years have gone over 
 his grave, his modest welcome, and generous dispensation of 
 entertainment and service, are, by one at least of those who en 
 joyed them, gratefully and freshly remembered ! 
 
 We were to dine as usual at Gallagher's at six one May day 
 which I well remember. I was just addressing myself to my 
 day's work, when Jem broke into my room with a letter in his 
 hand, and an expression on his face of mingled embarrassment 
 
 and fear. 
 
 i 
 
 " What the deuce to do with her ?" said he, handing me the 
 letter. 
 
 " A new scrape, Jem ?" I asked, as I looked for an instant at 
 the Dauchy coat-of-arms on a seal as big as a dollar. 
 
 " Scrape ? yes, it is a scrape ! for I shall never get out of 
 it reputably. What a dunce old Dauchy must be to send me a 
 girl to educate ! / a young lady's guardian ! Why, I shall be 
 the laugh of the town ! What say ? Isn't it a good one ?" 
 
 I had been carefully perusing the letter while Thalimer walked 
 soliloquizing about the room. It was from his old friend of mar 
 malades and sugars, and in the most confiding and grave terms,
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 205 
 
 os if Jem and he had been a couple of contemporaneous old 
 bachelors, it consigned to his guardianship and friendly counsel, 
 Miss Adelmine Lasacque, the only daughter of a neighboring 
 planter ! Mr. Lasacque having no friends at the north, had 
 applied to Mr. Dauchy for his guidance in the selection of a pro 
 per person to superintend her education, and as Thalimer was 
 the only correspondent with whom Mr. Dauchy had relations of 
 friendship, and was, moreover, " fitted admirably for the trust by 
 his impressive and dignified address," (?) he had " taken the 
 liberty," &c., &o. 
 
 " Have you seen her ?" I asked, after a long laugh, in which 
 Jem joined but partially. 
 
 "No, indeed! She arrived last night in the New Orleans 
 packet, and the captain brought me this letter at daylight, with 
 the young lady's compliments. The old sea-dog looked a little 
 astounded when T announced myself. Well he might, faith ! I 
 don't look like a young lady's guardian, do I ?" 
 
 " Well you are to go on board and fetch her is that it ?" 
 
 " Fetch her ! Where shall I fetch her ? Who is to take a 
 young lady of my fetching ? I can't find a female academy that 
 I can approve " ^ 
 
 J burst into a roar of laughter, for Jem was in earnest with his 
 scruples, and looked the picture of unhappiness. 
 
 " I say I can't find one in a minute don't laugh, you black 
 guard ; and where to lodge her meantime ? "What should T say 
 to the hotel-keepers ? They all know me 1 It looks devilish 
 odd, let me tell you, to bring a young girl, without matron or 
 other acquaintance than myself, and lodge her at a public 
 house." 
 
 " Your mother must take your charge off your hands."
 
 206 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " Of course, that was the first thing I thought of. You know 
 my mother ! She don't half believe the story, in the first place. 
 If there is such a man as Mr. Dauchy, she says, and if this is a 
 * Miss Lasacque,' all the way from Louisiana, there is but one 
 thing to do send her back in the packet she came in ! She'll 
 have nothing to do with it ! There's more in it than I am will 
 ing to explain. 1 never mentioned this Mr. Dauchy before, 
 Mischief will come of it ! Abduction's a dreadful thing ! If I 
 will make myself notorious, I need not think to involve my 
 mother and sisters ! That's the way she talks about it." 
 
 " But couldn't we mollify your mother ? for, after all, her 
 countenance in the matter will be expected." 
 
 " Not a chance of it ! " 
 
 " The money part of it is all right ? " 
 
 " Turn the letter over. Credit for a large amount on the Robin 
 sons, payable to my order only ! " 
 
 " Faith ! its a very hard case if a nice girl with plenty of 
 money can't be permitted to land in Boston ! You didn't ask the 
 captain if she was pretty ? " 
 
 *" No, indeed ! But pretty or plain, I must get her ashore and 
 be civil to her. I must ask her to dine ! I must do something 
 besides hand her over to a boarding-school ! Will you come down 
 to the ship with me?" 
 
 My curiosity was quite aroused, and 'I dressed immediately. 
 On our way down we stopped at Gallagher's, to request a little 
 embellishment to our ordinary dinner. It was quite clear, for a 
 variety of reasons, that she must dine with her guardian there, or 
 nowhere. Gallagher looked surprised, to say the least, at our 
 proposition to bring a young lady to dine with us, but he made
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 201 
 
 no comment beyond a respectful remark that " No. 2 was very 
 private ! " 
 
 We had gone but a few steps from Devonshire street when Jem 
 stopped in the middle of the side-walk. 
 
 " We have not decided yet what we are to do with Miss 
 Lasacque all day, nor where we shall send her baggage, nor where 
 she is to lodge to-night. For Heaven's sake, suggest something !" 
 added Jem, quite out of temper. 
 
 " Why, as you say, it would be heavy work to walk her about 
 the streets from now till dinner-time eight hours or more ! Gal 
 lagher's is only an eating-house, unluckily, and you are so well 
 known at all the hotels, that, to take her to one of them without a 
 chaperon, would, to say the least, give occasion for remark. But 
 here, around the corner, is one of the best boarding-houses in 
 town, kept by the two old Misses Smith. You might offer to put 
 her under their protection. Let's try." 
 
 The Misses Smith were a couple of reduced gentlewomen, who 
 charged a very good price for board and lodging, and piqued 
 themselves on entertaining only very good company. Begging 
 Jem to assume the confident tone which the virtuous character of 
 his errand required, I rang at the door, and in answer to our 
 inquiry for the ladies of the house, we were shown into the 
 basement parlor, where the eldest Miss Smith sat with her spec 
 tacles on, adding new vinegar to some pots of pickles. Our 
 business was very briefly stated. Miss Smith had plenty of spare 
 room. Would we wait a moment till she tied on the covers to 
 her pickle-jars ? 
 
 The cordiality of the venerable demoiselle evidently put Thal- 
 imer in spirits. He gave me a glance which said very plainly,
 
 208 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " You see we needn't have troubled our heads about this !" but 
 the sequel was to come. 
 
 Miss Smith led the way to the second story, where were two 
 very comfortable unoccupied bed-rooms. 
 
 " A single lady ?" she asked. 
 
 ' Yes," said Jem, " a Miss Lasacque, of Louisiana." 
 
 " Young, did you say ?" 
 
 ** Seventeen, or thereabout, I fancy. (This was a guess, but 
 Jem chose to appear to know all about her.) 
 
 " And ehem ! and quite alone ?'' 
 
 " Quite alone she is come here to go to school." 
 
 " Oh, to go to school ! Pray will she pass her vacations with 
 your mother ?" 
 
 " No !'' said Jem, coughing, and looking rather embarrassed. 
 
 " Indeed ! She is with Mrs. Thalimer at present, I presume." 
 
 " No she is still on shipboard ! Why, my dear madam, she 
 only arrived from New Orleans this morning." 
 
 " And your mother has not had time to see her ! I understand. 
 Mrs. Thalimer will accompany her here, of course." 
 
 Jem began to see the end of the old maid's catechism, and 
 thought it best to volunteer the remainder of the information. 
 
 " My mother is not acquainted with this young lady's friends," 
 he said ; " and, in fact, she comes introduced only to myself." 
 
 " She has a guardian, surely ?" said Miss Smith, drawing 
 back into her Elizabethan ruff with more dignity than she had 
 hitherto worn. 
 
 " I am her guardian !" replied Jem, looking as red and guilty 
 as if he had really abducted the young lady, and was ashamed of 
 his errand. 
 
 The spinster bit her lips and looked out of the window.
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 209 
 
 " Will you walk down stairs for a moment, gentlemen," she 
 resumed, " and let me speak to my sister. I should have told 
 you that the rooms might possibly be engaged. I am not quite 
 sure indeed ehem pray walk down and be seated a moment !" 
 
 Very much to the vexation of my discomfited friend, I burst 
 into a laugh as we closed the door of the basement parlor be 
 hind us. 
 
 " You don't realize my confoundedly awkward position," said 
 he. " I am responsible for every step I take, to the girl's father 
 in the first place, and then to my friend Dauchy, one of the most 
 chivalric old cocks in the world, who, at the same time, could 
 never understand why there was any difficulty in the matter ! 
 And it does seem strange, that in a city with eighty thousand in 
 habitants it should be next to impossible to find lodging for a 
 virtuous lady, a stranger !" 
 
 I was contriving how to tell Thalimer that " there was no ob 
 jection to the camel but for the dead cat hung upon its neck," 
 when a maid-servant opened the door with a message " Miss 
 Smith's compliments, and she was very sorry she had no room to 
 spare !" 
 
 " Pleasant !" said Jem, " very pleasant ! I suppose every other 
 keeper of a respectable house will be equally sorry. Meantime, 
 it's getting on toward noon, and that poor girl is moping on ship 
 board, wondering whether she is ever to be taken ashore ! Do 
 you think she might sleep at Gallagher's ?" 
 
 " Certainly not ! He has, probably, no accommodations for a 
 lady, and to lodge in a restaurant, after dining with you there, 
 would be an indiscreet first step, in a strange city, to say the least. 
 But let us make our visit to your fair ward, my dear Jem ! Per-
 
 210 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 haps she has a face innocent enough to tell its own story like 
 the lady who walked through Erin c with the snow-white wand.' " 
 
 The vessel had Lain in the stream all night, and was just haul 
 ing up to the wharf with the moving -fide. A crowd of specta 
 tors stood at the end of her mooring cable, and, as she warped in, 
 universal attention seemed to be given to a single object. Upon 
 a heap of cotton-bales, the highest point of the confused lumber 
 of the deck, sat a lady under a sky-blue parasol. Her gown was 
 of pink silk ; and by the volume of this showy material which 
 was presented to the eye, the wearer, when standing, promised 
 to turn out of rather conspicuous stature. White gloves, a pair 
 of superb amethyst bracelets, a string of gold beads on her neck, 
 and shoulders quite naked enough for a ball, were all the dis 
 closures made for a while by the envious parasol, if we except a 
 little object in blue, which seemed the extremity of something 
 she was sitting on, held in her left hand and which turned out 
 to be her right foot in a blue satin slipper ! 
 
 I turned to Thalimer. He was literally pale with conster 
 nation. 
 
 " Hadn't you better send for a carriage to take your ward 
 away ?" I suggested. 
 
 " You don't believe that to be Miss Lasacque, surely !" ex 
 claimed Jem, turning upon me with an imploring look. 
 
 "Such is my foreboding," I replied; "but wait a moment. 
 Her face may be -pretty, and you, of course, in your guardian 
 capacity may suggest a simplification of her toilet. Consider ! 
 the poor girl was never before off the plantation at least, so 
 says old Dauchy's letter." 
 
 The sailors now began to pull upon the stern-line, and, as the 
 ship came round, the face of the unconscious object of curiosity
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 211 
 
 stole into view. Most of the spectators, after a single glance, 
 turned their attention elsewhere with a smile, and Jem, putting 
 his hands into his two coat pockets behind him, walked off 
 towards the end of the pier, whistling to himself very energeti 
 cally. She was an exaggeration of the peculiar physiognomy of 
 the South lean rather than slight, sallow rather than pale. Yet 
 I thought her eyes fine. 
 
 Thalimer joined me as the ship touched the dock, and we 
 stepped on board together. The cabin-boy confirmed our expec 
 tations as to the lady's identity, and putting on the very insinu 
 ating manner which was part of his objectionable exterior, Jem 
 advanced and begged to know if he had the honor of addressing 
 Miss Lasacque. 
 
 Without loosing her hold upon her right foot, the lady nodded. 
 
 " Then, madam !" said Jem, " permit me to introduce to you 
 your guardian, Mr. Thalimer !" 
 
 " What, that old gentlemen coming this way ?" asked Miss La 
 sacque, fixing her eyes oh a custom-house officer who was walk 
 ing the deck. 
 
 Jem handed the lady his "card. 
 
 " That is my name," said he, " and I should be happy to know 
 how I can begin the duties of my office!". 
 
 " Dear me ."' said the astonished damsel, dropping her foot to 
 take his hand, " isn't there an older Mr. James Thalimer ? Mr. 
 Dauchy said it was a gentleman near his own age !" 
 
 " I grow older, as you know me longer !" Jem replied, apolo 
 getically ; but his ward was too well satisfied with his appearance, 
 to need even this remarkable fact to console her. She came 
 down with a slide from her cotton-bag elevation, called to the 
 cook to bring the bandbox with the bonnet in it, and meantime
 
 212 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 gave us a brief history of the inconveniences she had suffered in 
 consequence of the loss of her slave, Dinah, who had died of sea 
 sickness three days out. This, to me, was bad news, for I had 
 trusted to a " lady's maid" for the preservation of appearances, 
 and the scandal threatening Jem's guardianship looked, in conse 
 quence, very imminent. 
 
 " I am dying to get my feet on land again !" said Miss La- 
 gacque, putting her arm into her guardian's, and turning toward 
 the gangway her bonnet not tied, nor her neck covered, and 
 thin blue satin slippers, though her feet were small, showing forth 
 in contrast with her pink silk gown, with frightful conspicuous- 
 ness ! Jem resisted the shoreward pull, and stood motionless and 
 aghast. 
 
 u Your baggage,'' he stammered at last. 
 
 " Here, cook !" cried the lady, " tell the captain, when he 
 comes aboard, to send my trunks to Mr. Thalimer's ! They are 
 down in the hold, and he told me he couldn't get at 'em till to 
 morrow," she added, by way of explanation to Thalimer. 
 
 I felt constrained to come to the rescue. 
 
 " Pardon me, madam !" said I, " there is a little peculiarity in 
 our climate, of which you probably are not advised. An east 
 wind commonly sets in about noon, which makes a shawl very 
 necessary. In consequence, too, of the bronchitis which this sud 
 den change is apt to give people of tender constitutions, the ladies 
 of Boston are obliged to sacrifice what is becoming, and wear their 
 dresses very high in the throat." 
 
 " La ! J ' said the astonished damsel, putting her hand upon her 
 bare neck, " is it sore throat that you mean ? I'm very subject 
 to it, indeed ! Cook ! bring me that fur-tippet out of the cabin !
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 213 
 
 I'm so sorry my dresses are all made so low, and I haven't a shawl 
 unpacked either ! dear ! dear !" 
 
 Jem and I exchanged a look of hopeless resignation, as the 
 cook appeared with a chinchilli tippet. A bold man might have 
 hesitated to share the conspicuousness of such a figure in a noon 
 promenade, but we each gave her an arm when she had tied the 
 soiled riband around her throat, and silently set forward. 
 
 It was a bright and very warm day, and there seemed a con 
 spiracy among our acquaintances to cross our path. Once in the 
 street, it was not remarkable that they looked at us, for the tow 
 ering height at which the lady carried her very showy bonnet, the 
 flashy material of her dress, the jewels and the chinchilli tippet, 
 formed an ensemble which caught the eye like a rainbow ; and 
 truly people did gaze, and the boys, spite of the unconscious look 
 which we attempted, did give rather disagreeable evidence of be 
 ing amused. I had various misgivings, myself, as to the necessity 
 for my own share in the performance, and, at every corner, felt 
 sorely tempted to bid guardian and ward good morning ; but 
 friendship and pity prevailed. By streets and lanes not calcu 
 lated to give Miss Lasacque a very favorable first impression of 
 Boston, we reached Washington street, and made an intrepid 
 dash across it to the Marlborough hotel. 
 
 Of this public house, Thalimer had asked my opinion during 
 our walk, by way of introducing an apology to Miss Lasacque for 
 not taking her to his own home. She had made it quite clear 
 that she expected this, and Jem had nothing for it but to draw 
 such a picture of the decrepitude of Mr. Thalimer, senior, and 
 the bed -ridden condition of his mother (as stout a couple as ever 
 plodded to church !) as would satisfy the lady for his short-com 
 ings in hospitality. This had passed off very smoothly, and Miss
 
 214 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Lasacque entered the Marlboro' quite prepared to lodge there, 
 but very little aware (poor girl !) of the objections to receiving 
 her as a lodger. 
 
 Mr. , the proprietor, had stood in the archway as we 
 
 entered. Seeing no baggage in the lady's train, however, he had 
 not followed us in, supposing, probably, that we were callers on 
 some of his guests. Jem left us in the drawing-room, and went 
 upon his errand to the proprietor, but after half an hour's absence, 
 came back, looking very angry, and informed us that no rooms 
 were to be had ! Instead of taking the rooms without explana 
 tion, he had been unwise enough to " make a clean breast'' to Mr. 
 
 , and the story of tle lady's being his " ward," and come 
 
 from Louisiana to go to school, rather staggered that discreet per 
 son's credulity. 
 
 Join beckoned me out, and we held a little council of war in 
 the entry. Alas ! I had nothing to suggest. I knew the puritan 
 metropolis very well I knew its phobia was " the appearance of 
 evil." In Jem's care-for-nothing face lay the leprosy which closed 
 all doors against us. Even if we had succeeded, by a coup Se 
 main, in lodging Miss Lasacque at the Marlboro', her guardian's 
 daily visits would have procured for her, in the first week, some 
 intimation that she could no longer be accommodated. 
 
 " We had best go and dine upon it," said I ; " worst come to 
 the worst, we can find some sort of dormitory for her at Gal 
 lagher's, and to-morrow she must be put to school, out of the 
 reach of your ' pleasant, but wrong society.' " 
 
 " I hope to Heaven she'll 'stay put,' " said Jem, with a long 
 sigh. 
 
 We got Miss Lasacque again under way, and avoiding the now 
 crowded pave of Washington street, made a short cut by Theatre
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 215 
 
 Alley to Devonshire street and Gallagher's. Safely landed in 
 "No. 2," we drew a long breath of relief. Jem rang the bell. 
 
 " Dinner, waiter, as soon as possible." 
 
 " The same that was ordered at six, sir ?" 
 
 " Yes, only more champagne, and bring it immediately. Ex 
 cuse me, Miss Lasacque," added Jem, with a grave bow, "but 
 the non-appearance of that east wind my friend spoke of, has 
 given me an unnatural thirst. Will you join me in some cham 
 pagne after your hot walk :" 
 
 ' ; Xo, thank you," said the lady, untying her tippet, " but, if 
 you please, I will go to my room before dinner !" 
 
 Here was trouble again ! It had never occurred to either of 
 us, that ladies must go to their rooms before bed- time. 
 
 "Stop !" cried Jem, as she laid her hand on the bell to ring for 
 the chamber-maid, " excuse me I must first speak to the land 
 lord the room the room is not ready, probably !" 
 
 He seized his hat, and made his exit, probably wishing all con 
 fiding friends, with their neighbor's daughters, in a better world ! 
 He had to do with a man of sense, however. Gallagher had but 
 one bedroom in the house, which was not a servant's room, and 
 that was his own. In ten minutes it was ready, and at the lady's 
 service. A black scullion was promoted for the nonce, to the 
 post of chamber-maid, and, fortunately, the plantation-bred girl 
 had not been long enough from home to be particular. She came 
 to dinner as radiant as a summer-squash . 
 
 With the door shut, and the soup before us, Thalimer's spirits 
 and mine flung off their burthens together. Jem was the plea- 
 santest table-companion in the world, and he chatted and made 
 the amiable to his ward, as if he owed her some amends for the 
 awkward position of which she was so blessedly unconscious.
 
 216 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Your " dangerous man" (such as he was voted), inspires, of course, 
 no distrust in those to whom he chooses to be agreeable. Miss 
 Lasacque grew, every minute, more delighted with him. She, 
 too, improved on acquaintance. Come to look at her closely, 
 Nature meant her for a fine showy creature, and she was " out 
 of condition," as the jockeys say that was all ! Her features 
 were good, though gamboged by a southern climate, and the fever- 
 and-ague had flattened what should be round and ripe lips, and 
 reduced to the mere frame, what should be the bust and neck 
 of a Die Vernon. I am not sure I saw all this at the time. Her 
 subsequent chrysalis and emergence into a beautiful woman natu 
 rally color my description now. But I did see, then, that her 
 eyes were large and lustrous, and that naturally she had high 
 spirit, good abilities, and was a thorough woman in sentiment, 
 though deplorably neglected for, at the age of twenty she could 
 hardly read and write ! It was not surprising that she was 
 pleased with us ! She was the only lady present, and we were 
 the first coxcombs she had ever seen, and the day was summery, 
 and the dinner in Gallagher's best style. We treated her like a 
 princess ; and the more agreeable man of the two being her guar 
 dian, and responsible for the propriety of the whole affair, there 
 was no chance for a failure. We lingered over our coffee ; and 
 we lingered over our chassccafe ; and we lingered over our tea ; 
 and, when the old South struck twelve, we were still at the table 
 in " No. 2," quite too much delighted with each other to have 
 thought of separating. It was the venerated guardian who made 
 the first move, and, after ringing up the waiter to discover that 
 the scullion had, six hours before, made her nightly disappear 
 ance, the lady was respectfully dismissed with only a candle for
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 211 
 
 her chamber-maid, and Mr. Gallagher's room for her destination, 
 wherever that might be ! 
 
 We dined together every successive day for a week, and during 
 this time the plot rapidly thickened. Thalimer, of course, vexed 
 soul and body, to obtain for Miss Lasacque a less objectionable lodg 
 ing urged scarcely more by a sense of propriety than by a feeling 
 for her good-natured host, who, meantime, slept on a sofa. But the 
 unlucky first step of dining and lodging a young lady at a restaurant, 
 inevitable as it was, gave a fatal assurance to the predisposed 
 scandal of the affair, and every day's events heightened its 'glaring 
 complexion. Miss Lasacque had ideas of her own, and very in 
 dependent ones, as to the amusement of her leisure hours. She 
 had never been before where there were shops, and sh<; spent her 
 first two or three mornings in perambulating Washington street, 
 dressed in a style perfectly amazing to beholders, and purchasing 
 every description of gay trumpery the parcels, of course, sent 
 to Gallagher's, and the bills to James Thalimer, Esq. ! To keep 
 her out of the street, Jem took her, on the third day, to the rid 
 ing school, leaving her (safely enough, he thought), in charge of 
 the authoritative Mr. Roulstone, while he besieged some school 
 mistress or other to undertake her ciphering and geography. She 
 was all but born on horseback, however, and soon tired of riding 
 round the ring. The street-door was set open for a moment, 
 leaving exposed a tempting tangent to the circle, and out flew 
 Miss Lasacque, saving her " Leghorn flat," by a bend to the sad 
 dle-bow, that would have done credit to a dragoon, and no more 
 was seen, for hours, of the " bonnie black mare" and her rider. 
 
 The deepening of Miss Lasacque's passion for Jem, would not 
 interest the reader. She loved like other women, timidly and 
 pensively. Young as the pasrion was, however, it came too late 
 10
 
 218 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 to affect her manners before public opinion had pronounced on 
 them. There was neither boarding-house nor " private female 
 academy" within ten miles, into which " Mr. Thalimer's young 
 lady" would have been permitted to set her foot small as was 
 the foot, and innocent as was the pulse to which it stepped. 
 
 Uncomfortable as was this state of suspense, and anxious as 
 we were to fall into the track marked " virtuous," if virtue would 
 ouly permit ; public opinion seemed to think we were enjoying 
 ourselves quite too prosperously. On the morning of the seventh 
 day of our guardianship, I had two calls after breakfast, one from 
 poor Gallagher, who reported that he had been threatened with a 
 prosecution of his establishment as a nuisance, and another from 
 poorer Jem, whose father had threatened to take the lady out 
 of his hands, and lodge her in the insane asylum ! 
 
 " Xot that I don't wish she was there," added Jera, " fur it is 
 a very fine place, with a nice garden, and luxuries enough for 
 those who can pay for them, and faith, I believe it's the only 
 lodging-house I've not applied to !" 
 
 I must shorten my story. Jem anticipated his father, by riding 
 over, and showing his papers constituting him the guardian of 
 Miss Lasacque, in which capacity he was, of course, authorized 
 to put his ward under the charge of keepers. Everybody who 
 knows Massachusetts, knows that its insane asylums are some 
 times brought to bear on irregular morals, as well as on diseased 
 intellects, and as the presiding officer of the institution was quite 
 well assured that Miss Lasacque was well qualified to become a 
 patient, Jem had no course left but to profit by the error. The 
 poor giil was invited, that afternoon, to take a drive in the coun 
 try, and we came back and dined without her, in abominable 
 spirits, I must say.
 
 THE FEMALE WARD. 219 
 
 Provided with the best instruction, the best of care taken 
 of her health, and the most exemplary of matrons interesting 
 herself in her patient's improvements, Miss Lasacque rapidly 
 improved more rapidly, no doubt, than she ever could have 
 done by control less rigid and inevitable. Her father, by the 
 advice of the matron, was not informed of her location for a year, 
 and at the end of that time he came on, accompanied by his 
 friend, Mr. Dauchy. He found his daughter sufficiently improved 
 in health, manners, and beauty, to be quite satisfied with Jem's 
 discharge of his trust, and we all dined very pleasantly in "No. 
 2 ;" Miss Lasacque declining, with a blush, my invitation to her 
 to make one of the party.
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER, 
 
 SHEAFE LANE, in Boston, is an almost unmentionable and ple- 
 ' beian thoroughfare, between two very mentionable and patrician 
 streets. It is mainly used by bakers, butchers, urchins going to 
 school, and clerks carrying home parcels in short, by those who 
 care less for the beauty of the road than for economy of time and 
 shoe-leather. Jf you plea.se, it is a shabby hole. Children are 
 born there, however, and people die and marry there, and are 
 happy aiid sad there, and the great events of life, more important 
 than our liking or disliking of Sheafe lane, take place in it con 
 tinually. It used not to be a very savory place. Yet it has an 
 indirect share of such glory as attaches to the birth-places of men 
 above the common. The (present) great light of the Unitarian 
 church was born at one end of Sheafe lane, and one of the most 
 accomplished merchantr-gentlemen in the gay world of New York 
 was born at the other. And in the old Hay-market (a kind of 
 cul-de-sac, buried in the side of Sheafe lane), stood the dusty lists 
 of chivalric old Koulstone, a gallant horseman, who in other days 
 would have been a knight of noble devoir, though in the degene 
 racy of a Yankee lustrum, he devoted his soldierly abilities to the 
 teaching of young ladies how to ride. 
 
 Are you in Sheafe lane ? (as the magnetizers innuire.) Please
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER. 221 
 
 to step back twenty-odd years, and take the hand of a lad 
 with a rosy face (ourself for we lived in Sheafe lane twenty- 
 odd years ago), and come to a small house, dingy yellow, with a 
 white gate. The yard is below the level of the street. Mind 
 the step. 
 
 The family are at breakfast in the small parlor fronting on the 
 street. But come up this dark staircase to the bedroom over the 
 parlor a very neat room, plainly furnished ; and the windows 
 are curtained, and there is one large easy chair, and a stand with 
 a Bible open upon it. In the bed lies an old man of seventy, deaf, 
 nearly blind, and bed-ridden. 
 
 We have now shown you what comes out of the shadows to us, 
 when we remember the circumstances we are about to body forth 
 in a sketch, for it can scarcely be called a story. 
 
 It wanted an hour to noon. The Boylston clock struck eleven, 
 and close on the heel of the last stroke followed the tap of the 
 barber's knuckle on the door of the yellow house in Sheafe lane. 
 Before answering to the rap, the maid-of-all-work filled a tin can 
 from the simmering kettle, and surveyed herself in a three-cor- 
 rered bit of looking-glass, fastened on a pane of the kitchen win 
 dow ; then, with a very soft and sweet " good morning," to Rosier, 
 the barber, she led the way to the old man's room. 
 
 " He looks worse to-day," said the barber, as the skinny hand 
 of the old man crept up tremblingly to his face, conscious of the 
 daily office about to be performed for him. 
 
 " They thiuk so below stairs, 7 ' said Harriet, " and one of the 
 church is coming to pray with him to-night. Shall I raise him 
 up now ? " 
 
 The barber nodded, and the girl seated herself near the pillow, 
 and lifting the old man, drew him upon her breast, and as the
 
 222 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 operation went rather lingeringly on, the two chatted together 
 very earnestly. 
 
 Rosier was a youth of about twenty-one, talkative and caress 
 ing, as all barbers are ; and what with his curly hair an i ready 
 smile, and the smell of soap that seemed to be one of his natural 
 properties, he was a man to be thought of over a kitchen fire. 
 Besides, he was thriving in his trade, and not a bad match. All 
 of which was duly considered by the family with which Harriet 
 lived, for they loved the poor girl. 
 
 Poor girl, I say. But she was not poor, at least if it be true 
 that as a woman thinketh so is she. Most people would have de 
 scribed her as a romantic girl. And so she was, but without 
 deserving a breath of the ridicule commonly attached to the word. 
 She was uneducated, too, if any child in New England can be 
 called uneducated. Beyond school-books and the Bible, she had 
 read nothing but the Scottish Chiefs, and this novel was to her 
 what the works of God are to others. It could never become 
 familiar. It must be the gate of dream-land ; what the moon is 
 to a poet, what a grove is to a man of revery, what sunshine is 
 to all the world. And she mentioned it as seldom as people 
 praise sunshine, and lived in it as unconsciously. 
 
 Harriet had never before been out to service. She was a 
 farmer's daughter, new from the country. If she was not igno 
 rant of the degradation of her condition in life, she forgot it habit 
 ually. A cheerful and thoughtful smile was perpetually on her 
 lips, and the hardships of her daily routine were encountered as 
 things of course, as clouds in the sky, as pebbles in the inevita 
 ble path. Her attention seemed to belong to her body, but her 
 consciousness only to her imagination. In her voice and eyes 
 there was no touch or taint of her laborious servitude, and if she
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER. 223 
 
 had suddenly been " made a lady," there would have been no 
 thing but her hard hands to redeem from her low condition. 
 Then, hard-working creature as she was, she was touchingly beau 
 tiful. A coarse eye would have passed her without notice, per 
 haps, but a painter would not. She was of a fragile shape, and had 
 a slight stoop, but her Lead was small and exquisitely moulded, 
 and her slender neck, round, graceful, and polished, was set upon 
 her shoulders with the fluent grace of a bird's. Her hair was 
 profuse, and of a tinge almost yellow in the sun, but her eyes 
 were of a blue, deep almost to blackness, and her heavy eye 
 lashes darkened them still more deeply. She had the least possi 
 ble color in her cheeks. Her features were soft and unmarked, 
 and expressed delicacy and repose, though her nostrils were capa 
 ble of dilating with an energy of expression that seemed wholly 
 foreign to her character. 
 
 Rosier had first seen Harriet when called in to the old man, six 
 months before, and they were now supposed by the family to be 
 engaged lovers, waiting only for a little more sunshine on the bar 
 ber's fortune. Meantime, they saw each other at least half an 
 hour every morning, and commonly passed their evenings to 
 gether, and the girl seemed very tranquilly happy in her prospect 
 of marriage. 
 
 At four o'clock on the afternoon of the day before mentioned, 
 Mr. Flint was to make a spiritual visit to the old man. Let us 
 first introduce him to the reader. 
 
 Mr. Asa Flint was a bachelor of about forty-five, and an " ac 
 tive member" of a church famed for its zeal. He was a tall man, 
 with a little bend in his back, and commonly walked with his 
 eyes upon the ground, like one intent on meditation. His com 
 plexion was sallow, and his eyes dark and deeply set ; but by
 
 224 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 dint of good teeth, and a little " wintry redness in his cheek," he 
 was good-looking enough for all his ends. He dressed in black, 
 as all religious men must (in Boston), and wore shoes with black 
 stockings the year round. In his worldly condition, Mr. Flint 
 had always been prospered. He spent five hundred dollars a year 
 in his personal expenses, and made five thousand in his business, and 
 subscribed, say two hundred dollars a year to such societies as 
 printed the name of the donors. Mr. Flint had no worldly ac 
 quaintances. He lived in a pious boarding-house, and sold all 
 his goods to the members of the country churches in communion 
 with his own. He " loved the brethren," for he wished to con 
 verse with no one who did not see heaven and the church at his 
 back himself in the foreground, and the other two accessories in 
 the perspective. Piety apart, he had found out at twenty-five, 
 that, as a sinner, he would pass through the world simply Asa 
 Flint as a saint, he would be Asa Flint plus eternity, and the 
 respect of a large congregation. He was a shrewd man, and 
 chose the better part. Also, he remembered, sin is more expen 
 sive than sanctity. 
 
 At four o'clock Mr. Flint knocked at the door. At the same 
 hour there was a maternal prayer-meeting at the vestry, and of 
 course it was to be numbered among his petty trials that he must 
 find the mistress of the house absent from home. He walked up 
 stairs, and after a look into the room of the sick man, dispatched 
 the lad who had opened the door for him, to request the " help" 
 of the family to be present at the devotions. 
 
 Harriet had a rather pleasing recollection of Mr. Flint. He 
 had offered her his arm, a week before, in coming out from a con 
 ference meeting, and had " presumed that she was a young lady
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER. 225 
 
 on a visit" to the mistress ! She arranged her 'kerchief and took 
 the kettle off the fire. 
 
 Mr. Flint was standing by the bedside with folded hands. The 
 old man lay looking at him with a kind of uneasy terror in his 
 face, which changed, as Harriet entered, to a smile of relief. She 
 retired modestly to the foot of the bed, and, hidden by the cur 
 tain, open only at the side, she waited the commencement of 
 the prayer. 
 
 " Kneel there, little boy !" said Mr. Flint, pointing to a chair 
 on the other side of the light-stand, " and you, my dear, kneel 
 here by me ! Let us pray !" 
 
 Harriet had dropped upon her knees near the corner of the 
 bed, and Mr. Flint dropped upon his, on the other side of the 
 post, so that after raising his hands in the first adjuration, they 
 descended gradually, and quite naturally, upon the folded hands 
 of the neighbor and there they remained. She dared not with 
 draw them, but as his body rocked to and fro in his devout ex 
 ercise, she drew back her head to avoid coming into further con 
 tact, and escaped with only his breath upon her temples. 
 
 It was a very eloquent prayer. Mr. Flint's voice, in a worldly 
 man, would have been called insinuating, but its kind of covert 
 sweetness, low and soft, seemed, in a prayer, only the subdued 
 monotony of reverence and devotion. But it won upon the ear 
 all the same. He beg'an, with a repetition of all the most sub 
 lime ascriptions of the psalmist, filling the room, it appeared to 
 Harriet, with a superhuman presence. She trembled to be so 
 near him with his words of awe. Gradually he took up the more 
 affecting and tender passages of scripture, and drew the tears into 
 her eyes with the pathos of his tone and the touching images he 
 wove together. His hand grew moist upon hers, and he leaned 
 10*
 
 226 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 closer to her. He began, after a short pause, to pray for her 
 especially that her remarkable beauty might not be a snare to 
 her that her dove-like eyes might beam only on the saddened 
 faces of the saints that she might be enabled to shun the com 
 pany of the worldly, and consort only with God's people and 
 that the tones of prayer now in her ears might sink deep into her 
 heart as the voice of one who would never cease to feel an inte 
 rest in her temporal and eternal welfare. His hand tightened its 
 grasp upon hers, and his face turned more toward her ; and as 
 Harriet, blushing, spite of the awe weighing on Tier heart, stole a 
 look at the devout man, she met the full gaze of his coal-black 
 eyes fixed unwinkingly upon her. She was entranced. She 
 dared not stir, and she dared not take her eyes from his. And 
 when he came to his amen, she sank back upon the ground, and 
 covered her face with her hand's. And presently she remembered, 
 with some wonder, that the old man, for whom Mr. Flint had 
 come to pray, had not been even mentioned in the prayer. 
 
 The lad left the room after the amen, and Mr. Flint raised 
 Harriet from the floor and seated her upon a chair out of the old 
 man's sight, and pulled a hymn-book from his pocket, and sat 
 down beside her. She was a very enthusiastic singer, to say the 
 least, and he commonly led the singing at the conferences, and 
 so, holding her hand that she might beat the time with him, he 
 passed an hour in what he would call very sweet communion. 
 And by this time the mistress of the family came home, and Mr. 
 Flint took his leave. 
 
 From that evening, Mr. Flint fairly undertook the " eternal 
 welfare" of the beautiful girl. From her kind mistress he easily 
 procured for her the indulgence due to an awakened sinner, and 
 she had permission to frequent the nightly conference, Mr. Flint
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER. 221 
 
 always charging himself with the duty of seeing her safely home. 
 He called sometimes in the afternoon, and had a private inter 
 view to ascertain the " state of her mind,'' and under a strong 
 " conviction'' of something or other, the excited girl lived now 
 in a constant revery, and required as much looking after as a 
 child. She was spoiled as a servant, but Mr. Flint had only done 
 his duty by her. 
 
 This seemed all wrong to Rosier, the barber, however. The 
 bright sweet face of the girl he thought to marry, had grown sad, 
 and her work went all amiss he could see that. She had no 
 smile, and almost no word, for him. He liked little her going 
 out at dusk when he could not accompany her, and coming homo 
 late with the same man always, though a very good man, no 
 doubt. Then, once lately, when he had spoken of the future, she 
 had murmured something which Mr. Flint had saidabout " mar 
 rying with unbelievers," and it stuck in Hosier's mind and trou 
 bled him. Harriet grew thin and haggard besides, though she 
 paid more attention to her dress, and dressed more ambitiously 
 than she used to do. 
 
 We are reaching back over a score or more of years for the 
 scenes we are describing, and memory drops here and there a 
 circumstance by the way. The reader can perhaps restore the 
 lost fragments, if we give what we remember of the outline. 
 
 The old man died, and Rosier performed the last of his offices 
 to fit him for the grave, and that, if we remember rightly, was 
 the last of his visits, but. one, to the white house in Sheafe lane. 
 The bed was scarce vacated by the dead, ere it was required 
 again for another object of pity. Harriet was put into it with a 
 brain fever. She was ill for many weeks, and called constantly 
 on Mr. Flint's name in her delirium ; and when the fever left
 
 228 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 her, she seemed to have but one desire on earth that he should 
 come and see her. Message after message was secretly carried 
 to him by the lad, whom she had attached to her with her uui- 
 form kindness and sweet temper, but he never came. She re 
 lapsed after a while into a state of stupor, like idiocy, and when 
 day after day passed without amendment, it was thought neces 
 sary to send for her father to take her home. 
 
 A venerable looking old farmer, with white hairs, drove his 
 rough wagon into Sheafe lane one evening, we well remember. 
 Slowly, with the aid of his long staff, he crept up the narrow 
 staircase to his daughter's room, and stood a long time, looking 
 at her in silence. She did not speak to him. 
 
 He slept upon a bed made up at the side of hers, upon the 
 floor, and the nest morning he went out early for his horse, aud 
 she was taken up and dressed for the journey. She spoke to no 
 one, and when the old man had breakfasted, she quietly submitted 
 to be carried toward the door. The sight of the street first 
 seemed to awaken some recollection, and suddenly in a whisper 
 she called to Mr. Flint. 
 
 " Who is Mr. Flint ?" asked the old man. 
 
 Hosier was at the gate, standing there with his hat off to bid 
 her farewell. She stopped upon the side-walk, and looked around 
 hurriedly. 
 
 " He is not here I'll wait for him !" cried Harriet, in a trou 
 bled voice, and she let go her father's arm and stepped back. 
 
 They took hold of her and drew her toward the wagon, but 
 she struggled to get free, and moaned like a child in grief. Ro 
 sier took her by the hand and tried to speak to her, but he 
 choked, and the tears came to his eyes. Apparently she did not 
 know him.
 
 THE PHARISEE AND THE BARBER. 229 
 
 A few passers-by gathered around, now, and it was necessary 
 to lift her into the wagon by force, for the distressed father was 
 confused and embarrassed with her struggles, and the novel scene 
 around him. At the suggestion of the mistress of the family, 
 Rosier lifted her in his arms and seated her in the chair intended 
 for her, but her screams began to draw a crowd around, and her 
 struggles to free herself were so violent, that it was evident the 
 old man could never take her home alone. Rosier kindly offered 
 to accompany him, and as he held her in her seat and tried to 
 soothe her, the unhappy father got in beside her and drove away. 
 
 She reached home, Rosier informed us, in a state of dreadful 
 exhaustion, still calling on the name that haunted her ; and we 
 heard soon after that she relapsed into a brain fever, and death 
 soon came to her with a timely deliverance from her trouble.
 
 MABEL WYNNE, 
 
 MABEL WYNNE was the topmost sparkle on the crest of the 
 first wave of luxury that swept over New York. Up to her time, 
 the aristocratic houses were furnished with high buffets, high- 
 backed and hair-bottomed mahogany chairs, one or two family por 
 traits, and a silver tray on the side-board, containing cordials and 
 brandy for morning callers. In the centre of the room hung a 
 chandelier of colored lamps, and the lighting of this and the 
 hiring of three negroes (to "fatigue," as the French say, a 
 clarionet, a base-viol, and a violin) were the only preparations 
 necessary for the most distinguished ball. About, the time that 
 Mabel left school, however, some adventurous pioneer of the 
 Dutch haut ton ventured upon lamp stands for the corners of the 
 rooms, stuffed red benches along the walls, and chalked floors ; 
 and upon this a French family of great beauty, residing in the 
 lower part of Broadway, ventured upon a fancy ball with wax- 
 candles instead of lamps, French dishes and sweatmeats instead 
 of pickled oysters and pink champagne ; and, the door thus 
 opened, luxury came in like a flood. Houses were built on a 
 new plan of sumptuous arrangement, the ceiling stained in fresco, 
 and the columns of the doors within painted in imitation of bronze
 
 MABEL WYNNE. 231 
 
 and marble ; and at last the climax was topped by Mr. Wynne, 
 who sent the dimensions of every room in his new house to an 
 upholsterer, in Paris, with carte blanche as to costliness and style, 
 and the fournisseur to come out himself and see to the arrange 
 ment and decoration. 
 
 It was Manhattan tea-time, old style, and while Mr. Wynne, 
 who had the luxury of a little -plain furniture in the basement, 
 was comfortably taking his toast and hyson below stairs, Miss 
 Wynne was just announced as " at home," by the black footman, 
 and two of her admirers made their highly-scented entree. '! hey 
 were led through a suite of superb rooms, lighted with lamps hid 
 in alabaster vases, and ushered in at a mirror-door beyond, 
 where, in a tent of fluted silk, with ottomans and draperies of the 
 game stuff, exquisitely arranged, the imperious Mabel held her 
 court of 'teens. 
 
 Mabel Wynne was one of those accidents of sovereign beauty 
 which nature seems to take delight in misplacing in the world 
 like the superb lobelia flashing among the sedges, or the golden 
 oriole pluming his dazzling wings in the depth of a wilderness. She 
 was no less than royal in all her belongings. Her features expressed 
 consciousness of sway a sway whose dictates had been from 
 infancy anticipated. Never a surprise had startled those lan 
 guishing eyelids from their deliberateness never a suffusion 
 other than the humid cloud of a tender and pensive hour had 
 dimmed those adorable dark eyes. Or, so at least it seemed ! 
 
 She was a fine creature, nevertheless Mabel Wynne ! But 
 she looked to others like a specimen of such fragile and costly 
 workmanship that nothing beneath a palace would be a becoming 
 home for her.
 
 232 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " For $e present," said Mr. Bellallure, one of the gentlemen 
 who entered, " the bird has a fitting cage.'' 
 
 Miss Wynne only smiled in reply, and the other gentleman 
 took upon himself to be the interpreter of her unexpressed 
 thought. 
 
 " The cage is the accessory not the bird," said Mr. Blythe, 
 " and, for my part, I think Miss-Wynne would show better the 
 humbler her surroundings. As Perdita upon the greensward, 
 and open to a shepherd's wooing, I should inevitably sling my 
 heart upon a crook " 
 
 " And forswear that formidable, impregnable vow of celibacy ?"' 
 interrupted Miss Wynne. 
 
 " I am only supposing a case, and you are not likely to be a 
 shepherdess on the green." But Mr. Blythe's smile ended in a 
 look of clouded rcvery, and after a few minutes' conversation, ill 
 sustained by the gentlemen, who seemed each in the other's way, 
 they rose and took their leave Mr. Bellallure lingering last, for 
 he was a lover avowed. 
 
 As the door closed upon her admirer, Miss Wynne drew a let 
 ter from her portfolio, and turning it over and over with a smile 
 of abstracted curiosity, opened and read it for the second time. 
 She had received it that morning from an unknown source, and as 
 it was rather a striking communication, perhaps tho reader had 
 better know something of it before we go on. 
 
 It commenced without preface, thus : 
 
 " On a summer morning, twelve years ago, a chimney sweep, 
 after doing his work and singing his song, commenced his descent. 
 It was the chimney of a large house, and becoming embarrassed 
 among the flues, he lost his way and found himself on the hearth
 
 MABEL WYNNE. 233 
 
 of a sleeping- chamber occupied by a child. The sun was just 
 breaking through the curtains of the room, a vacated bed showed 
 that some one had risen lately, probably the nurse, and the 
 sweep, with an irresistible impulse, approached the unconscious 
 little sleeper. She lay with her head upon a round arm buried 
 in flaxen curls, and the smile of a dream on her rosy and parted 
 lips. It was a picture of singular loveliness, and something in 
 the heart of that boy-sweep, as he stood and looked upon the 
 child, knelt to it with an agony of worship. The tears gushed to 
 his eyes. He stripped the sooty blanket from his breast, and 
 looked at the skin white upon his side. The contrast between 
 his condition and that of the fair child sleeping before him brought 
 the blood to his blackened brow with the hot rush of lava. He 
 knelt beside the bed on which she slept, took her hand in his 
 sooty grasp, and with a kiss upon the white and dewy fingers, 
 poured his whole soul with passionate earnestness into a resolve. 
 
 " Hereafter you may learn, if you wish, the first struggles of 
 that boy in the attempt to diminish the distance between yourself 
 and him for you will have understood that you were the beauti 
 ful child he saw asleep. I repeat that it is twelve years since he 
 stood in your chamber. He has seen you almost daily since 
 then watched your going out and coming in fed his eyes and 
 heart on your expanding beauty, and informed himself of every 
 change and development in your mind and character. With this 
 intimate knowledge of you, and with the expansion of his own 
 intellect, his passion has deepened and strengthened. It pos 
 sesses him now as life does his heart, and will endure as long. 
 But his views with regard to you are changed, nevertheless. 
 
 " You will pardon the presumption of my first feeling that to 
 attain my wishes I had only to become your equal. It was a
 
 234 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 natural error for my agony at realizing the difference of our 
 conditions in life was enough to absorb me at the time but it is 
 surprising to me how long that delusion lasted. I am rich now. 
 I have lately added to my fortune the last acquisition I thought 
 desirable. But with the thought of the next thing to be done, 
 came like a thunderbolt upon me the fear that after all my efforts 
 you might be destined for another ! The thought is simple 
 enough. You would think that it would have haunted me from 
 the beginning. But I have either unconsciously shut my eyes 
 to it, or I have been so absorbed in educating and enriching my 
 self, that that goal only was visible to me. It was perhaps fortun 
 ate for my perseverance that I was so blinded. Of my midnight 
 studies, of my labors, of all my plans, self-denials, and anxieties, 
 you have seemed the reward ! I have never gained a thought, 
 never learned a refinement, never turn'ed over gold and silver, 
 that it was not a step nearer to Mabel Wynne. And now, that 
 in worldly advantages, after twelve years of effort and trial, I 
 stand by your side at last, a thousand men who never thought of 
 you till yesterday are equal competitors with me for your haud ! 
 " But, as I said, my views with regard to you have changed. 
 I have with bitter effort, conquered the selfishness of this one 
 life-time ambition. I am devoted to you, as I have been from the 
 moment I first saw you life and fortune. These are still yours 
 but without the price at which you might spurn them. My 
 person is plain and unattractive. You have seen me, and shown 
 *me no preference. There are others whom you receive with 
 favor. And with your glorious beauty, and sweet, admirably 
 sweet qualities of character, it would be an outrage to nature that 
 you should not choose freely, and be mated with something of 
 your kind. Of those who now surround you I see no one
 
 MABEL WYNNE. 235 
 
 worthy of you but he may come ! Jealousy shall not blind me 
 to his merits. The first mark of your favor (and I shall be 
 aware of it) will turn upon him my closest, yet most candid scru 
 tiny. He must .love you well for I shall measure his love by 
 my own. He must have manly beauty, and delicacy, and honor 
 he must be worthy of you, in short but he 'need not be rich. 
 He who steps between me and you takes the fortune I had 
 amassed for you. J tell you this that you may have no limit in 
 your choice for the worthiest of a woman's lovers is often 
 barred from her by poverty. 
 
 " Of course I have made no vow against seeking your favor. 
 On the contrary, I shall lose no opportunity of making myself 
 agreeable to you. It is against my nature to abandon hope, though 
 I am painfully conscious of my inferiority to other men in the qual 
 ities which please a woman. All I have done is to deprive my 
 pursuit of its selfishness to make it subservient to your happi 
 ness purely as it still would be were I the object of your pref 
 erence. You will hear from me at any crisis of your feelings. 
 Pardon my being a spy upon you. I know you well enough to 
 be sure that this letter will be a secret since I wish it. Adieu." 
 
 Mabel laid her cheek in the hollow of her hand and mused 
 long on this singular communication. It stirred her romance, 
 but it awakened still more her curiosity. Who was he ? She 
 had " seen him and shown him no preference !" Which could it 
 be of the hunderd of her chance-made acquaintances ? She con 
 jectured at some disadvantage, for " she had come out" within 
 the past year only, and her mother having long been dead, the 
 visitors to the house were all but recently made known to her. 
 She could set aside two-thirds of them, as sons of families well
 
 236 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 known, but there were at least a score of others, any one of 
 whom might, twelve years before, have been as obscure as her 
 anonymous lover. "Whoever he might be, Mabel thought he 
 could hardly come into her presence again without betraying him 
 self, and with a pleased smile at the thought of the discovery, she 
 again locked up the letter. 
 
 Those were days (to be regretted or not, as you please, dear 
 reader !) when the notable society of New York revolved in one 
 pelf-complacent and clearly-defined circle. Call it a wheel, and 
 say tbat the centre was a belle and the radii were beaux (the 
 periphery of course composed of those who could " down with the 
 dust"). And on the fifteenth of July regularly and imperatively, 
 this fashionable wheel rolled off to Saratoga. 
 
 " Mabel ! my daughter !" said old Wynne, as he bade her 
 good night the evening before starting for the Springs, " it is use 
 less to be blind to the fact that among your many admirers you 
 have several very pressing lovers suiters for your hand I may 
 safely say. Now, I do not wish to put any unnecessary restraint 
 upon your choice, but as you are going to a gay place, where you 
 are likely to decide the matter in your own mind, I wish to express 
 an opinion. You may give it what weight you think a father's 
 judgment should have in such matters. I do not like Mr. Bell- 
 allure for, beside my prejudice against the man, we know 
 nothing of his previous life, and he may be a swindler or any 
 thing else. I do like Mr. Blythe for I have known him many 
 years he comes of a most respectable family, and he is wealthy 
 and worthy. These two seem to me the most earnest, and you 
 apparently give them the most of your time. If the deci-iun is 
 to be between them, you have my choice. " Good night, my 
 love !'
 
 MABEL WYNNE. 237 
 
 Some people think it is owing to the Saratoga water. I differ 
 from them. The water is an " alterative," it is true- but I 
 think people do not so much alter as develop at Sara 
 toga. The fact is clear enough-^that at the Springs we change 
 our opinions of almost every body but (though it seems a bold 
 supposition at first glance) I am inclined to believe it is because 
 we see so much more of them ! Knowing people in the city and 
 knowing them at the Springs is very much in the same line of 
 proof as tasting wine and drinking a bottle. Why, what is a 
 week's history of a city acquaintance ? A morning call thrice a 
 week, a diurnal bow in Broadway, and perhaps a quadrille or two 
 in the party season. What chance in that to ruffle a temper or 
 try a weakness ? At the Springs, now, dear lady, you wear a 
 man all day like a shoe. Down at the platform with him to 
 drink the waters before breakfast strolls on the portico with 
 him till ten drives with him to Barheight's till dinner lounges 
 in the drawing-room with him till tea dancing and promenading 
 with him till midnight very little short altogether of absolute 
 matrimony ; and like matrimony, it is a very severe trial. Your 
 " best fellow" is sure to be found out, and so is your plausible 
 fellow, your egotist, and your " spoon." 
 
 Mr. Beverly Bellallure had cultivated the male attractions 
 with marked success. At times he probably thought himself a 
 plain man, and an artist who should only paint what could be 
 measured with a rule, would have made a plain portrait of Mr. 
 Bellallure. But the atmosphere of the man ! There is a 
 physiognomy in movement there is aspect in the harmonious 
 link between mood and posture there is expression in the face 
 of which the features are as much a portrait as a bagpipe 
 is a copy of a Scotch song. Beauty, my dear artist, can not
 
 238 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 always be translated by canvass and oils. You must paint "the 
 magnetic fluid" to get a portrait of some men. Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence seldom painted anything else as you may see by his 
 picture of Lady Blessington, which is like her without having 
 copied a single feature of her face. Yet an artist would be very 
 much surprised if you should offer to sit to him for your mag 
 netic atmosphere though it expresses (does it not ?) exactly 
 what you want when you order a picture ! You wish to be 
 painted as you appear to those who love you a picture altogether 
 unrecognizable by those who love you not. 
 
 Mr. Bellallure, then, was magnetically handsome positively 
 plain. He dressed with an art beyond detection. He spent his 
 money as if he could dip it at will out of Pac tolas. He t *Was in 
 timate with nobody, and so nobody knew his history ; but he wrote 
 himself on the register of Congress Hall as " from New York," 
 and he threw all his forces into one unmistakeable demonstration 
 the pursuit of Miss Mabel Wynne. 
 
 But Mr. Bellallure had a formidable rival. Mr. Blythe was 
 as much in earnest as he, though he played his game with a touch- 
 and-go freedom, as if. he was prepared to lose it. And Mr. 
 Biythe had very much surprised those people at Saratoga who 
 did not know that between a very plain man and a very elegant 
 man there is often but the adding of the rose-leaf to the brim 
 ming jar. He was perhaps a little gayer than in New York, cer 
 tainly a little more dressed, certainly a little more prominent in 
 general conversation but without any difference that you could 
 swear to, Mr. Blythe, the plain and reliable business man, whom 
 everybody esteemed without particularly admiring, had become 
 Mr. Blythe the model of elegance and ease, the gentleman and
 
 MABEL WYNNE. 239 
 
 conversationist par excellence. And nobody could tell how the 
 statue could have lain so long unsuspected in the marble. 
 
 The race for Miss Wynne's hand and fortune was a general 
 sweepstakes, and there were a hundred men at the Springs ready 
 to take advantage of any falling back on the part of the two ou 
 the lead ; but with Blythe and Bellallure Miss Wynne herself 
 seemed fully occupied. The latter had a " friend at court" 
 the belief, kept secret in the fair Mabel's heart, that he was the 
 romantic lover of whose life and fortune she had been the inspi 
 ration. She was an eminently romantic girl, with all her strong 
 sense ; and the devotion which had proved itself so deep and con 
 trolling was in reality the dominant spell upon her heart. She 
 felt that she must love that man, whatever his outside might be, 
 and she construed the impenetrable silence of which Bellallure 
 received her occasional hints as to his identity, into a magnani 
 mous determination to win her without any advantage from the 
 roiuance of his position. 
 
 Yet she sometimes wished it had been Mr. Blythe ! The opin 
 ion of her father had great weight with her ; but, more than that, 
 the felt instinctively that he was the safer man to be intrusted with 
 a woman's happiness. If there had been a doubt if her father 
 had not assured her that " Mr. Blythe came of a most respecta 
 ble family" if the secret had wavered between them she would 
 have given up to Bellallure without a sigh. Blythe was every 
 thing she admired and wished for in a husband but the man who 
 had made himself for her, by a devotion unparalleled even in her 
 reading of fiction, held captive her dazzled imagination, if not her 
 grateful heart. She made constant efforts to think only of Bel 
 lallure, but the efforts were preceded ominously with a sigh. 
 
 And now Bellallure's star seemed in the ascendant for urgent
 
 240 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 business called Mr. Wynne to the city, and on the succeeding day 
 Mr. Blythe followed him, though with an assurance of speedy 
 return. Mabel was left under the care of an indulgent chaperon, 
 who took a pleasure in promoting the happiness of the supposed 
 lovers; and driving, lounging, waltzing, and promenading, Belial- 
 
 
 
 lure pushed his suit with ardor unremitted. He was a skillful 
 master of the art of wooing, and it would have been a difficult 
 woman indeed who would not have been pleased with his society 
 but the secret in Mabel's breast was the spell by which he held 
 her. 
 
 A week elapsed, and Bellallure pleaded the receipt of unex 
 pected news, and left suddenly for New York to Mabel's sur 
 prise exacting no promise a; parting, though she felt that she 
 should have given it with reluctance. The mail of the second 
 day following brought her a brief letter from her father, request 
 ing her immediate return ; and more important still, a note from 
 her incognito lover. It ran thus : 
 
 " You will recognize my handwriting again. I have little to 
 say for I abandon the intention I had formed to comment on 
 your apparent preference. Your happiness is in your own hands. 
 Circumstances which will be explained to you, and which will 
 excuse this abrupt forwardness, compel me to urge you to an im 
 mediate choice. On your arrival at home, you will meet me in 
 your father's house, whore I shall call to await you. I confess, 
 tremblingly, that I still cherish a hope. If I am not deceived 
 if you can consent to love me if my long devotion is to be re 
 warded take my hand when you meet me. That moment will 
 decide the value of my life. But be prepared also to name 
 another, if you love him for there is a necessity, which I cannot
 
 MABEL WYNNE 241 
 
 explain to you till you have chosen your husband, that this choice 
 should be made on your arrival. Trust and forgive one who has 
 so long loved you!" 
 
 Mabel pondered long on this strange letter. Her spirits at 
 moments revolted against its apparent dictation, but there was 
 the assurance, which she could not resist trusting, that it could 
 be explained and forgiven. At all events, she was at liberty to 
 fulfill its requisitions or not and she would decide when the tiino 
 came. Happy was Mabel unconsciously happy in the gene 
 rosity and delicacy of her unnamed lover ! Her father, by ono 
 of the sudden reverses of mercantile fortune, had been stripped 
 of his wealth in a day ! Stunned and heart-broken, he knew not 
 how to break it to his daughter, but he had written for her to re 
 turn. His sumptuous house had been sold over his head, yet the 
 purchaser, whom he did not know, had liberally offered the use 
 of it till his affairs were settled. And, meantime, his ruin was 
 ma do public. The news of it, indeed, had reached Saratoga be 
 fore the departure of Mabel but there were none willing to 
 wound her by speaking of it. 
 
 The day was one of the sweetest of summer, and as the boat 
 ploughed her way down the Hudson, Mabel sat on the deck lost 
 in thought. Her father's opinion of Bellallure, and his probable 
 displeasure at her choice, weighed uncomfortably on her mind. 
 She turned her thoughts upon Mr. Blythe, and felt surprised at the 
 pleasure with which she remembered his kind manners and his 
 trust inspiring look. She began to reason with herself more 
 calmly than she had power to do with her lovers around her. She 
 confessed to herself that Bellallure might have the romantic per 
 il
 
 242 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 severance shown in the career of the chimney-sweep, and still be 
 deficient in qualities necessary to domestic happiness. There 
 seemed to her something false about Bellallure. She could not 
 say in what but he had so impressed her. A long day's silent 
 reflection deepened this impression, and Mabel arrived at the city 
 with changed feelings. She prepared herself to meet him at her 
 father's house, and show him by her manner that she could ac 
 cept neither his hand nor his fortune. 
 
 Mr. Wynne was at the door to receive his daughter, and Mabel 
 felt relieved, for she thought that his presence would bar all ex 
 planation between herself and Bellallure. The old man embraced 
 her with an effusion of tears, which she did not quite understand, 
 but he led her to the drawing-room and closed the door. Mr. 
 Blythe stood before her ! 
 
 Forgetting the letter dissociated wholly as it was, in her mind, 
 with Mr. Blythe Mabel ran to him with frank cordiality and gave 
 him her hand ! Blythe stood a moment his band trembling in 
 hers and as a suspicion of the truth flashed suddenly on Mabel's 
 mind, the generous lover drew her to his bosom and folded her 
 passionately in his embrace. Mabel's struggles were slight, and 
 her happiness unexpectedly complete. 
 
 The marriage was like other marriages. 
 
 Mr. Wynne had drawn a little on his imagination in recom 
 mending Mr. Blythe to his daughter as " a young man of most re 
 spectable family." 
 
 Mr. Blythe was the purchaser of Mr. Wynne's superb house, 
 and the old man ended his days under its roof happy to the last 
 in the society of the Blythes, large and little. . 
 
 Mr. Bellallure turned out to be a clever adventurer, and had
 
 MABEL WYNNE. 43 
 
 Mabel married him, she would have been Mrs. Bellallure No. 2 
 possibly No. 4. He thought himself too nice a young man for 
 monopoly. 
 
 I think my story is told if your imagination has filled up the 
 interstices, that is to say.
 
 THE BANDlf OF AUSTRIA, 
 
 "Affection is a fire which kindleth as well in the bramble as in the oak, and c*tcheth 
 hold where it first lighteth, not wliere it may best burn. Larks that mount in the air 
 build tlieir nests below in the earth ; and women that cast their eyes upon kings, may place 
 their hearts upon vassals." MABLOWB. 
 
 L'ngrement est arbitraire : la beaute est quelque chose do plus reel et de plus indepen 
 dent du gout ct de 1'opinion." LA BBCTEBE. 
 
 FAST and rebukingly rang the matins from the towers of St. 
 Etienne, and, though unused to wake, much less to pray, at that, 
 sunrise hour, I felt a compunctious visiting as my postillion 
 cracked his whip and flew past the sacred threshold, over which 
 tripped, as if every stroke would be the last, the tardy yet light- 
 footed mass-goers of Vienna. It was my first entrance into this 
 Paris of Germany, and I stretched my head from the window to 
 look back with delight upon the fretted gothic pile, so cumbered 
 with ornament, yet so light and airy so vast in the area it cov 
 ered, yet so crusted in every part with delicate device and sculp 
 ture. On sped the merciless postillion, and the next moment we 
 rattled into the* court-yard of the hotel. 
 
 I gave my keys to the most faithful and intelligent of valets 
 an English boy of sixteen, promoted from white top-boots and a 
 cabriolet in London, to a plain coat and almost his master's 
 friendship upon the continent and leaving him to find rooms to
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 245 
 
 my taste, make them habitable and get Dreakfast, I retraced my 
 way to ramble a half hour through the aisles of St. Etienne. 
 
 The lingeriHg bell was still beating its quick and monotonous 
 call, and just before me, followed closely by a female domestic, a 
 veiled and slightly-formed lady stepped over the threshold of the 
 cathedral, and took her way by the least-frequented aisle to the 
 altar. I gave a passing glance of admiration at the small ankle 
 and dainty chaussure betrayed by her hurried step ; but remem 
 bering with a slight effort that I had sought the church with at 
 least some feeble intentions of religious worship, I crossed the 
 broad nave to the opposite side, and was soon leaning against a 
 pillar, and listening to the heavenly-breathed music of the volun 
 tary, with a confused, but I trust, not altogether unprofitable feel 
 ing of devotion. 
 
 The peasants, with their baskets standing beside them on the 
 tesselated floor, counted their beads upon their knees ; the mur 
 mur, low-toned and universal, rose through the vibrations of the 
 anthem with an accompaniment upon which I have always 
 thought the great composers calculated, no less than upon the 
 echoing arches, and atmosphere thickened with incense ; and the 
 deep-throated priest muttered his Latin prayer, more edifying to 
 me that it left my thoughts to their own impulses of worship, un- 
 dcmeaned by the irresistible littleness of criticism, and unchecked 
 by the narrow bounds of another's comprehension of the Divinity. 
 
 Without being in any leaning of opinion a son of the church of 
 Rome, I confess my soul gets nearer to heaven ; and my religious 
 tendencies, dulled and diverted from improvement by a life of 
 travel and excitement, are more gratefully ministered to, in the 
 indistinct worship of the catholics. It seems to me that no man 
 can pray well through the hesitating lips of another. The inflated
 
 246 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 style or rhetorical efforts of many, addressing Heaven with diffi 
 cult grammar and embarrassed logic and the weary monotony 
 of others, repeating without interest and apparently without 
 thought, the most solemn appeals to the mercy of the Almighty 
 are imperfeoi vehicles, at least to me, for a fresh and apprehen 
 sive spirit of worship. The religious architecture of the catholics 
 favors the solitary prayer of the heart. The vast floor of the 
 cathedral, the far receding aisles with their solemn light, to which 
 penetrate only the indistinct murmur of priest and penitent, and 
 the affecting wail or triumphant hallelujah of the choir ; the 
 touching attitudes and utter abandonment of all around to their 
 unarticulated devotions; the freedom to enter and depart, un 
 questioned and unnoticed, and the wonderful impressiveness of 
 the lofty architecture, clustered with mementoes of death, and 
 presenting through every sense, some unobtrusive persuasion to 
 the duties of the spot all these, I cannot but think, are aids, 
 not unimportant to devout feeling, nor to the most careless keeper 
 of his creed and conscience, entirely without salutary use. 
 
 My eye had been resting unconsciously on the drapery of a 
 statue, upon which the light of a painted oriel window threw the 
 mingled dyes of a peacock. It was the figure of an apostle ; and 
 curious at last to see whence the colors came which turned the 
 saintly garb into a mantle of shot silk, I strayed toward the east 
 ern window, and was studying the gorgeous dyes and grotesque 
 drawing of an art lost to the world, when I discovered that I was in 
 the neighborhood of the pretty figure that had tripped into church 
 so lightly before me. She knelt near the altar, a little forward 
 from one of the heavy gothic pillars, with her maid beside her, 
 and, close behind knelt a gentleman, who I observed at a second 
 glance, was paying his devotions exclusively to the small foot
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 217 
 
 that peeped from the edge of a snowy peignoir, the dishabille of 
 which was covered and betrayed by a lace-veil and mantle. As 
 I stood thinking what a graceful study her figure would make 
 for a sculptor, and what an irreligious impertinence was visible in 
 the air of the gentleman behind, he leaned forward as if to pros 
 trate his face upon the pavement, and pressed his lips upon the 
 Blender sole of (I have no doubt) the prettiest shoe in Vienna. 
 The natural aversion which all men have for each other as stran 
 gers, was quickened in my bosom by a feeling much more vivid, 
 and said to be quite as natural resentment at any demonstration 
 by another of preference for the woman one has admired. If I 
 have not mistaken human nature, there is a sort of imaginary 
 property which every man feels in a woman he has looked upon 
 with even the most transient regard, which is violated malgre lui t 
 by a similar feeling on the part of any other individual. 
 
 Not sure that the gentleman, who had so suddenly become my 
 enemy, had any warrant in the lady's connivance for his atten 
 tions, I retreated to the shelter of the pillar, and was presently 
 satisfied that he was as much a stranger to her as myself, and 
 was decidedly annoying her. A slight advance in her position to 
 escape his contact gave me the opportunity I wished, and step 
 ping upon the small space between the skirt of her dress and the 
 outpost of his ebony cane, I began to study the architecture of 
 the roof with great seriousness. The gothic order, it is said, 
 sprang from the first attempts at constructing roofs from the 
 branches of trees, and is more perfect as it imitates more closely 
 the natural wilderness with its tall tree-shafts and interlacing 
 limbs. With my eyes half shut I endeavored to transport my 
 self to an American forest, and convert the beams and angles 
 of this vast gothic structure into a primitive temple of pines, with
 
 248 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 the sunshine coming broldngly through ; but the delusion, other 
 wise easy enough, was destroyed by the cherubs roosting on the 
 cornices, and the apostles and saints perched as it were in the 
 branches ; and, spite of myself, I thought it represented best 
 Sbylock's " wilderness of monkeys." 
 
 " S'il vous plait, monsieur /" said the gentleman, pulling me 
 by the pantaloons as I was losing myself in these ill-timed spe 
 culations. 
 
 I looked down. 
 
 " Vous me gencz, monsieur !" 
 
 " J'en suis bien sure, monsieur .'" and I resumed my study 
 of the roof, turning gradually round till my heels were against 
 his knees, and backing peu-a pew. 
 
 It has often occurred to me as a defect in the system of civil 
 justice, that the time of the day at which a crime is committed is 
 never taken into account by judge or jury. The humors of an 
 empty stomach act so energetically on the judgment and temper 
 of a man, and the same act appears so differently to him, fasting 
 and full, that I presume an inquiry into the subject would prove 
 that few offences against law and human pity were ever perpetra 
 ted by villains who had dined. In the adventure before us, the 
 best-disposed reader will condemn my interference in a stranger's 
 gallantries as impertinent and quixotic. Later in the day, I 
 ehould as soon have thought of ordering water-cresses for the 
 gentleman's din'lon aux truffe.%. 
 
 I was calling myself to account something after the above 
 fashion, the gentleman in question standing near me, drumming 
 on his boot with his ebony cane, when the lady roso, threw her 
 rosary over her neck, and turning to me with a graceful smilo, 
 courtesied slightly and disappeared. I was struck so exceedingly
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 2-19 
 
 with the intense melancholy in the expression of the faco an 
 expression so totally at variance with the elasticity of the step, 
 and the promise of the slight and riante figure and air that I 
 quite forgot I had drawn a quarrel on myself, and was loitering 
 slowly toward the door of the church, when the gentleman I had 
 offended touched me on the arm, and in the politest manner pos 
 sible requested my address. "We exchanged cards, and I hastened 
 home to breakfast, musing on the facility with which the current 
 of our daily life may be thickened. I fancied I had a new love 
 on my hands, and I was tolerably sure of a quarrel yet I had 
 been in Vienna but fifty-four minutes by Breguet. 
 
 My breakfast was waiting, and Percie had found time to turn 
 a comb through his brown curls, and get the dust off his gaiters. 
 He was tall for his age, and (unaware to himself, poor boy!) 
 every word and action reflected upon the handsome seamstress 
 in Cranbourne Alley, whom he called his mother for he showed 
 blood. His father was a gentleman, or there is no truth in tho 
 rough-breeding. As I looked at him, a difficulty vanished from 
 my mind. 
 
 " Percie !" 
 
 " Sir !" 
 
 " Get into your best suit of plain clothes, and if a foreigner 
 calls on me this morning, come in and- forget that you are valet. 
 I have occasion to use you for a gentleman." 
 
 " Yes, sir ! 
 
 " My pistols are clean, I presume ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir !" 
 
 I wrote a letter or two, read a volume of " Ni jamais, ni tou- 
 jours" and about noon a captain of dragoons was announced, 
 
 bringing me the expected cartel. Percie came in, treading gin- 
 11*
 
 250 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 gerly'in a pair of tight French boots, but behaving exceedingly 
 like a gentleman, and after a little conversation, managed on his 
 part strictly according to my instructions, he took his cane and 
 walked off with his friend of the steel scabbard to become ac 
 quainted with the ground. 
 
 The gray of a heavenly summer morning was brightening 
 above the chimneys of the fair city of Vienna as I stepped into a 
 calecke, followed by Percie. With a special passport (procured 
 by the politeness of my antagonist) we made our sortie at that 
 early hour from the gates, and crossing the glacis, took the road 
 to the banks of the Danube. It was but a mile from the city, 
 and the mist lay low on the face of the troubled current of the 
 river, while the towers and pinnacles of the silent capital cut the 
 eky in clear and sharp lines as if tranquillity and purity, those 
 immaculate hand-maidens of nature, had tired of innocence and 
 their mistress and slept in town ! 
 
 I had taken some coffee and broiled chicken before starting, 
 and (removed thus from the category of the savage unbreakfast- 
 ed) I was in one of those moods of universal benevolence, said 
 (erroneously) to be produced only by a clean breast of milk diet. 
 I could have wept, with Wordsworth, over a violet. 
 
 My opponent was there with his dragoon, and Percie, cool and 
 gentleman like, like a man who "had served," looked on at the 
 loading of the pistols, and gave me mine with a very firm hand, 
 but with a moisture and anxiety in his eye which I have remem 
 bered since. We were to fire any time after the counting of 
 three, and having no malice against my friend, whose imperti 
 nence to a lady was (really !) no business of mine, I intended, of 
 course, to throw away my fire. 
 
 The first word was given and I looked at my antagonist, who,
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 251 
 
 I saw at a glance, had no such gentle intentions. He was taking 
 deliberate aim, and in the four seconds that elapsed between tho 
 remaining two words, I changed my mind (one thinks so fast when 
 his leisure is limited !) at least twenty times whether I should fire 
 at him or no- 
 
 " Trois /" pronounced the dragoon, from a throat like a trom 
 bone, and with the last thought, up flew my hand, and as my pis 
 tol discharged in the air, my friend's shot struck upon a large 
 turquoise which I wore on my third finger, and drew a slight 
 pencil-line across my left organ of causality. It was well aimed 
 for my temple, but the ring had saved me. 
 
 Friend of those days, regretted and unforgotten ! days of the 
 deepest sadness and heart-heaviness, yet somehow dearer in 
 remembrance than all the joys I can recall there was a talisman 
 in thy parting gift thou didst not think would be, one day, my 
 angel ! 
 
 " You will be able to wear your hair over the scar, sir !" said 
 Percie, coming up and putting his finger on the wound. 
 
 " Monsieur !" said the dragoon, advancing to Percie after a 
 short conference with his principal, and looking twice as fierce 
 as before. , 
 
 " Monsieur!" said Percie, wheeling short upon him. 
 
 " My friend is not satisfied. He presumes that monsieur 
 V Anglais wishos to trifle with him." 
 
 " Then let your friend take care of himself," said I, roused by 
 the unprovoked murderousness of the feeling. " Load the pistols, 
 Percie ! In my country," I continued, turning to the dragoon, 
 " a man is disgraced who fires twice upon an antagonist who hag 
 spared him ! Your friend is a ruffian, and the consequences bo 
 on his own haed !"
 
 252 *"UN JOTTINGS. 
 
 We took our places and the first word was given, when a man 
 dashed between us on horseback at top-speed. The violence with 
 which he drew rein brought his horse upon his haunches, and he 
 was on his feet in half a breath. 
 
 The idea that he was an officer of the police was immediately 
 dissipated by his step and air. Of the finest athletic form I had 
 ever seen, agile, graceful, and dressed pointedly well, there was 
 still an indefinable something about him, either above or below a 
 gentleman which, it was difficult to say.. His features were 
 slight, fair, and, except a brow too heavy for them and a lip of 
 singular and (I thought) habitual defiance, almost feminine. His 
 hair grew long and had been soigne, probably by more caressing 
 fingors than his own, and his rather silken mustache was glossy 
 with some odorent oil. As he approached me and took my hand, 
 with a clasp like a smith's vice, I observed these circumstances, 
 and could have drawn his portrait without ever seeing him again 
 BO marked a man was he, in every point and feature. 
 
 His business was soon explained. He was the husband of the 
 lady my opponent had insulted, and that pleasant gentleman 
 could, of course, make no objection to his taking my place. I 
 officiated as temoin, and, as they took their position, I anticipated 
 for the dragoon and myself the trouble of carrying them both off 
 the field. I had a practical assurance of my friend's pistol, and 
 the stranger was not the looking man to miss a hair's breadth of 
 his aim. 
 
 The word was not fairly off my lips when both pistols cracked 
 like one discharge, and high into the air sprang my revengeful 
 opponent, and dropped like a clod upon the grnss. The stranger 
 opened his waistcoat, thrust his fore-finger into a wound in his 
 left breast, and slightly closing his teeth, pushed a bullet through,
 
 THE BAJN T DIT OF AUSTRIA. 253 
 
 which had been checked by the bone and lodged in the flesh near 
 the skin. The surgeon who had accompanied my unfortunate 
 antagonist, left the body, which he had found beyond his art, and 
 readily gave his assistance to stanch the blo6d of my preserver ; 
 and jumping with the latter into my caleche, I put Percie upon 
 the stranger's horse, and we drove back to Vienna. 
 
 The market people were crowding in at the gate, the merry 
 peasant girls glanced at us with their blue, German eyes, the 
 shopmen laid out their gay wares to the street, and the tide of 
 life ran on as busily and as gayly, though a drop had been ex 
 tracted, within scarce ten minutes, from its quickest vein. I felt 
 a revulsion at ray heart, and grew faint and sick. Is a human 
 life is my life worth anything, even a thought, to my fellow- 
 creatures ? was the bitter question forced upon my soul. How 
 icily and keenly the unconscious indifference of the world pene 
 trates to the nerve and marrow of him who suddenly realizes it. 
 
 We dashed through the kohl-market, and driving into the porte- 
 cochere of a dark-looking house in one of the cross streets of that 
 quarter, were ushered into apartments of extraordinary magnifi 
 cence.
 
 254 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 CHAPTEK IL 
 
 " WHAT do you want, Percie f" 
 
 He was walking into the room with all the deliberate politeness 
 of a " gold-stick-in- waiting." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, but I was asked to walk up, and I was not 
 sure whether I was still a gentleman." 
 
 It instantly struck me that it might seem rather infra dig to 
 the chevalier (my new friend had thus announced himself) to have 
 had a valet for a second, and as he immediately after entered the 
 room, having stepped below to give orders about his horse, I pre 
 sented Percie as a gentleman and my friend, and resumed my ob 
 servation of the singular apartment in which I found myself. 
 
 The effect on coming first in at the door, was that of a small 
 and lofty chapel, where the light struggled in from an unseen 
 aperture above the altar. There were two windows at the far 
 ther extremity, but curtained so heavily, and set so deeply iuto 
 the wall, that I did not at first observe the six richly-carpeted 
 steps which led up to them, nor the luxuriously cushioned seats 
 on either side of the casement, within the niche, for those who 
 would mount thither for fresh air. The walls were tapestried, 
 but very ragged and dusty, and the floor, though there were seve 
 ral thicknesses of the heavy-piled, small, Turkey carpets laid 
 loosely over it, was irregular and sunken. The corners were 
 heaped with various articles I could not at first distinguish. My 
 host fortunately gave me an opportunity to gratify my curiosity 
 by frequent absences, under the housekeeper's apology (odd I
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 55 
 
 thought for a chevalier) of expediting breakfast ; and with the 
 aid of Percic, I tumbled his chattels about with all necessary 
 freedom. 
 
 " That," said the chevalier, entering, as I turned out the face 
 of a fresh colored picture to the light, " is a capo d'opera of a 
 French artist, who painted it, as you may say, by the gleam of 
 the dagger." 
 
 " A cool light, as a painter would say !" 
 
 " He was a cool fellow, sir, and would have handled a broad 
 sword better than a pencil." ' 
 
 Percie stepped up while I was examining the exquisite finish 
 of the picture, and asked very respectfully if the chevalier would 
 give him the particulars of the story. It was a full length por 
 trait of a young and excessively beautiful girl, of apparently 
 scarce fifteen, entirely nude, and lying upon a black velvet couch, 
 with one foot laid on a broken diadem, and her right hand press 
 ing a wild rose to her heart. 
 
 " It was the fancy, sir," continued the chevalier, " of a bold 
 outlaw, who loved the only daughter of a noble of Hungary." 
 
 " Is this the lady, sir ?" asked Percie, in his politest valet 
 French. 
 
 The chevalier hesitated a moment and looked over his shoul 
 der, as if he might be overheard. 
 
 " This is she copied to the minutest shadow of a hair ! He 
 was a bold outlaw, gentlemen, and had plucked the lady from her 
 father's castle with his own hand." 
 
 " Against her will ?" interrupted Percie, rather energetically. 
 
 " No !" scowled the chevalier, as if his lowering brows had 
 articulated the word, " by her own will and connivance ; for she 
 loved him."
 
 256 FUN JOTTINGS 
 
 Percie drew a long breath, and looked more closely at the taper 
 liuibs and the exquisitely-chiselled features of the face, which 
 was turned over the shoulder with a look of tiurid shame inimita 
 bly true to nature. 
 
 " She loved him," continued our fierce narrator, who, I almost 
 began to suspect was the outlaw himself, by the energy with 
 which he enforced the tale, " and after a moonlight ramble or 
 two with him in the forest of her father's domain, she fled and 
 became his wife. You are admiring the hair, sir ! It is as lux 
 uriant and glossy now !" 
 
 "If you please, sir, it is the villain himself!" said Percie in 
 an undertone. 
 
 " Href," continued the chevalier, either not understanding 
 English or not heeding the interruption, " an adventurous painter, 
 one day hunting the picturesque in the neighborhood of the out 
 law's retreat, surprised this fair creature bathing in one of the 
 loneliest mountain-streams in Hungary. His art appeared to be 
 his first passion, for he hid himself in the trees and drew her as 
 she stood dallying on the margin of the small pool in which the 
 brook loitered ; and so busy was he with his own work, or so soft 
 was the mountain moss under its master's tread, that the outlaw 
 looked, unperceived the while, over his shoulder, and fell in love 
 anew with the admirable counterfeit. She looked like a naiad, 
 sir, new born of a dew-drop and a violet." 
 
 I nodded an assent to Percie. 
 
 " The sketch, excellent as it seemed, was still unfinished, when 
 the painter, enamored as he might well be, of these sweet limbs, 
 glossy with the shining water, flung down his book and sprang 
 toward her. The outlaw "
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 57 
 
 " Struck him to the heart ? Oh Heaven !" said Percie, cover 
 ing his eyes as if he could see the murder. 
 
 " No ! he was a student of the human soul, and deferred his 
 vengeance." 
 
 Percie looked up and listened, like a man whose wits were per 
 fectly abroad. 
 
 " He was not unwilling , since her person had been seen irre 
 trievably, to know how his shrinking Iminild (this was her 
 name of melody) would have escaped had she been found alone." 
 
 " The painter" prompted Percie, impatient for the sequel. 
 
 " The painter flew over rock and brake, and sprang into the 
 pool in which she was half immersed ; and my brave girl- " 
 
 He hesitated, for he had betrayed himself. 
 
 " Ay she is mine, gentlemen ; and I am Yvain, the outlaw 
 my brave wife, I say, with a single bound, leaped to the rock where 
 her dress was concealed, seized a short spear which she used as a 
 staff in her climbing rambles, and struck it through his shoulder 
 as he pursued !'' 
 
 ' Bravely done !" I thought aloud. 
 
 " Was it not ? I came up the next moment, but the spear 
 stuck in his shoulder, and I could not fall upon a wounded man. 
 We carried him to our ruined castle in the mountains, and while 
 my Iminild cured her own wound, I sent for his paints, and let 
 him finish his bold beginning with a difference of my own. You 
 see the picture." 
 
 " Was the painter's love cured with his wound !" I asked with 
 a smile. 
 
 " No, by St. Stephen ! He grew ten times more enamored as 
 he drew. He was as fierce as a weli hawk, and as willing to 
 quarrel for his prey. I could have driven my dagger to his heart
 
 258 -FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 a hundred times for the mutter of his lips and the flash of his 
 dark eyes as he fed his gaze upon her ; but he finished the pic 
 ture, and I gave him a fair field. He chose the broad-sword, and 
 hacked away at me like a man." 
 
 " And the result" I asked/ 
 
 " I am here !" replied the outlaw significantly. 
 
 Percie leaped upon the carpeted steps, and pushed back the 
 window for fresh air ; and, for myself, I scarce knew how to act 
 tinder the roof of a man, who, though he confessed himself an out 
 law and almost an assassin, was bound to me by the ties of our 
 own critical adventure, and had confided his condition to me with 
 BO ready a reliance on my honor. In the midst of my dilemma, 
 while I was pretending to occupy myself with examining a silver 
 mounted and peaked saddle, which I found behind the picture 
 in the corner, a deep and unpleasant voice announced breakfast 
 
 " Wolfen is rather a grim chamberlain," said the chevalier, 
 bowing with the grace and smile of the softest courtier, " but he 
 will usher you to breakfast, and I am sure you stand in need of it. 
 For myself, I could eat worse meat than my grandfather, with 
 this appetite." 
 
 Percie gave me a look of inquiry and uneasiness when he found 
 we were to follow the rough domestic through the dark corridors 
 of the old house, and through his under-bred politeness of insist 
 ing on following his host, I could sco that he was unwilling to 
 trust the outlaw with the rear ; but a massive and broad door, 
 flung open at the end of the passage, let in upon us presently the 
 cool and fresh air from a northern exposure, and stepping forward 
 quickly to the threshold, we beheld a picture which changed the 
 curreat and color of our thoughts. 
 
 In the bottom of an excavated area, which, as well as I could
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 259 
 
 judge, must be forty feet below the level of the court, lay a small 
 arid antique garden, brilliant with the most costly flowers, and 
 cooled by a fountain gushing from under the foot of a nymph in 
 marble. The spreading tops of six alleys of lindens reaching to 
 the level of the street, formed a living roof to the grot-like depths 
 of the garden, and concealed it from all view but that of persons 
 descending like ourselves from the house ; while, instead of walls 
 to shut in this paradise in the heart of a city, Rharply inclined 
 slopes of green-sward leaned in under the branches of the lindens, 
 and completed the fairy-like enclosure of shade and ve*?3ure. As 
 we descended the rose-laden steps and terraces, I observed, that, 
 of the immense profusion of flowers in the area below, nearly all 
 were costly exotics, whose pots were set in the earth, and proba 
 bly brought away from the sunshine only when in high bloom ; 
 and as we rounded the spreading basin of the fountain which 
 broke the perspective of the alley, a table, which had been con 
 cealed by the marble nymph, and a skilfully-disposed array of 
 rhododendrons, lay just beneath our feet, while a lady, whose fea 
 tures I could not fail to remember, smiled up from her couch of 
 crimson cushions and gave us a graceful welcome. 
 
 The same taste for depth which had been shown in the room 
 sunk below the windows, and the garden below the street, was 
 continued in the kind of marble divan in which we were to break 
 fast. Four steps descending from the pavement of the alley in 
 troduced us into a circular excavation, whose marble seats, cov 
 ered with cushions of crimson silk, surrounded a table laden with 
 the substantial viands wbich are common to a morning meal in 
 Vienna, and smoking with coffee whose aroma (Percie agreed with 
 me) exceeded even the tube roses in grateful sweetness. Between 
 the cushions at our backs and the pavements just above the level of
 
 2GO. FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 our heads, were piled circles of thickly flowering geraniums, which 
 enclosed us in rings of perfume, and, pouring from the cup of a 
 sculptured flower, held in the hand of the nymph, a smooth stream 
 like a silver rod supplied a channel grooved around the centre of 
 the marble table, through which the bright water, with the im 
 pulse of its descent, made a swift revolution and disappeared. 
 
 It was a scene to give memory the lie if it could have recalled 
 the bloodshed of the morning. The green light flecked down 
 through the lofty roof upon the glittering and singing water ; a 
 nightingale in a recess of the garden, gurgled through his wires 
 as if intoxicated with the congenial twilight of his prison ; the 
 heavy-cupped flowers of the tropics nodded with the rain of the 
 fountain spray. The distant roll of wheels in the neighboring 
 streets came with an assurance of reality to this dream-land, yet 
 softened by the unreverberating roof and an air crowded with 
 flowers and trembling "with the pulsations of falling water. The 
 lowering forehead of the outlaw cleared up like a sky of June 
 after a thunder-shower, and his voice grew gentle and caressing ; 
 and the delicate mistress of all (by birth, Countess Iminild), a 
 creature as slight as Psyche, and as white as the lotus, whose 
 flexile stem served her for a bracelet, welcomed us with her soft 
 voice and humid eyes, and saddened by the event of the morning, 
 looked on her husband with a tenderness that would have assoiled 
 her of her sins against delicacy, I thought, even in the mind of 
 an angel. 
 
 " We live, like truth, here, in the bottom of a well," said the 
 countess to Percie, as she gave him his coffee ; " how do you like 
 my whimsical abode, sir ?" 
 
 " I should like any place where you were, Miladi !" he answered, 
 blushing and stealing hia eyes across at me, either in doubt how
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 261 
 
 far he might presume upon his new character, or suspecting that 
 I should smile at his gallantry. 
 
 The outlaw glanced his eyes over the curling head of the boy, 
 with one of those just perceptible smiles which developed, oc 
 casionally, in great beauty, the gentle spirit in his bosom ; and 
 Iminild, pleased with the compliment or the blush, threw off her 
 pensive mood, and assumed, in an instant, the coquettish air which 
 had attracted my notice as she stepped before me into the church 
 of St. Etienne. 
 
 " You had hard work," she said, " to keep up with your long- 
 legged dragoon yesterday, Monsieur Percie !" 
 
 " Miladi :" he answered, with a look of inquiry. 
 
 " Oh, I was behind you, and my legs are not much longer than 
 yours. How he strided away with his long spurs, to be sure ! Do 
 you remember a smart young gentleman with a blue cap that 
 walked past you on the glacis occasionally ?" 
 
 " Ah, with laced boots, like a Hungarian ?" 
 
 " I see I am ever to be known by my foot," said she, putting 
 it out upon the cushion, and turning it about with naive admira 
 tion ; " that poor captain of the imperial guard paid dearly for 
 kissing it, holy virgin !" and she crossed herself and was silent 
 for a moment. 
 
 " If I might take the freedom, chevalier," I said, " pray how 
 came I indebted to your assistance in this affair?" 
 
 " Iminild has partly explained," he answered. " She knew, of 
 course, that a challenge would follow your interference, and it 
 was very easy to know that an officer of some sort would take a 
 message in the course of the morning to Le Prince Charles, the 
 only hotel frequented by the English d'un certain gens. 
 
 I bowed to the compliment.
 
 262 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " Arriving in Vienna late last night, I found Iminild (who had 
 followed this gentleman and the dragoon unperceived) in posses 
 sion of all the circumstances ; and, but for oversleeping myself 
 this morning, I should have saved your turquoise, vnon seigneur /" 
 
 " Have you lived here long, Miladi ?" asked Percie, looking up 
 into her eyes with an unconscious passionateness which made the 
 countess Iminild color slightly, and bite her lips to retain an ex 
 pression of pleasure. 
 
 " I have not lived long anywhere, sir !" she answered half 
 archly, "but I played in this garden when not much older than 
 you!" 
 
 Percie looked confused and pulled up his cravat. 
 
 " This house,'' said the chevalier, willing apparently to spare 
 the countess a painful narration, " is the property of the old count 
 Ildefert, my wife's father. He has long ceased to visit Vienna, 
 and has left it, he supposes, to a stranger. When Iminild tires 
 of the forest, she comes here, and I join her if I can find time. 
 I must to the saddle to-morrow, by St. Jacques !" 
 
 The word had scarce died on his lips when the door by which 
 we had entered the garden was flung open, and the measured 
 tread of gens-d'armes resounded in the corridor. The first man 
 who stood out upon the upper terrace was the dragoon" who had 
 been second to my opponent. 
 
 " Traitor and villain !" muttered the outlaw between his teeth, 
 " I thought I remembered you ! It is that false comrade Berthold, 
 Iminild !'' 
 
 Yvain had risen from the table as if but to stretch his legs ; 
 and drawing a pistol from his bosom he cocked it as he quietly 
 stepped up into the garden. I saw at a glance that there was no 
 chance for his escape, and laid my hand on his arm.
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 263 
 
 " Chevalier !" I said, " surrender, and trust to opportunity. It 
 is madness to resist here.'' 
 
 " Yvain" said Iminild, in a low voice, flying to his side as she 
 comprehended his intention, " leave me that vengeance, and try 
 the parapet. I'll kill him before he sleeps ! Quick ! Ah, 
 Heavens !' J 
 
 The dragoon had turned at that instant to fly, and with sud 
 denness of thought the .pistol flashed, and the traitor dropped 
 heavily on the terrace. Springing like a cat up the slope of 
 green sward, Yvain stood an instant on the summit of the wall, 
 hesitating where to jump beyond, and in the next moment rolled 
 heavily back, stabbed through and through with a bayonet from 
 the opposite side. 
 
 The blood left the lips and cheek of Iminild ; but without a 
 word or a sign of terror, she sprang to the side of the fallen out 
 law and lifted him up against her knee. The gens-d'armes rushed 
 to the spot, but the subaltern who commanded them yielded in 
 stantly to my wish that they should retire to the skirts of the 
 garden ; and sending Percie to the fountain for water, we bathed 
 the lips and forehead of the dying man and set him against the 
 sloping parapet. With one hand grasping the dress of Iminild 
 and the other clasped in mjne, he struggled to speak. 
 
 " The cross P he gasped, " the cross !" 
 
 lu.inild drew a silver crucifix from her bosom. 
 
 " Swear on this," he said, putting it to my lips and speaking 
 with terrible energy, " swear that you will protect her while you 
 live !" 
 
 " I swear!" 
 
 He shut our hands together convulsively, gasped slightly as if
 
 264 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 he would speak again, and, in another instant, sunk, relaxed and 
 lifeless, on the shoulder of Jminild. 
 
 CHAPTEK IE. 
 
 THE fate and history of Yvain, the outlaw, became, on the 
 following day, the talk of Vienna. He had been long known as 
 the daring horse-stealer of Hungary; and, though it was not 
 doubted that his sway was exercised over plunderers of every de 
 scription, even pirates upon the high seas, his own courage and 
 address were principally applied to the robbery of the well-guarded 
 steeds of the emperor and his nobles. It was said that there was 
 not a horse in the dominions of Austria whose qualities and breed 
 ing were not known to him, nor one he cared to have which was 
 not in his concealed stables in the forest. The most incredible 
 etories were told of hi* horsemanship. He would so disguise the 
 animal on which he rode, either by forcing him into new paces or 
 by other arts only known to himself, tbat he would make the tour 
 of the Glacis on the emperor's best horse, newly stolen, unsus 
 pected even by the royal grooms. The roadsters of his own troop 
 were the best steeds bred on the banks of the Danube ; but 
 although always in the highest condition, they would never have 
 been suspected to have been worth a florin till put upon their 
 mettle. The extraordinary escapes of his band from the vigilant, 
 and well mounted gens-d'armes were thus accounted for ; and, in 
 most of the villages in Austria, the people, on some market-day
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 265 
 
 or other, had seen a body of apparently ill-mounted peasants 
 suddenly start off with the speed of lightning at the appearance 
 of gens-d'armes, and, flying over fence and wall, draw a straight 
 course for the mountains, distancing their pursuers with the ease 
 of swallows on the wing. 
 
 After the death of Yvain in the garden, I had been forced 
 with Percie into a carriage, standing in the court, and accom 
 panied by a guard, driven to my hotel, where I was given to un 
 derstand that I was to remain under arrest till further orders. A 
 sentinel at the door forbade all ingress or egress except to the 
 people of the house ; a circumstance which was only distressing 
 to me, as it precluded my inquiries after the countess Iminild, of 
 whom common rumor, the servants informed me, made not the 
 slightest mention. 
 
 Four days after this, on the relief of the guard at noon, a sub 
 altern entered niy room and informed me that I was at liberty. I 
 instantly made preparations to go out, and was drawing on my 
 boots, when Percie, who had not yet recovered from the shock of 
 his arrest, entered in some alarm, and informed me that one of 
 the royal grooms was in the court with a letter, which he would 
 deliver only into my own hands. He had orders beside, he said, 
 not to leave his saddle. Wondering what new leaf of my destiny 
 was to turn over. I went below and received a letter, with ap 
 parently the imperial seal, from a well-dressed groom in the livery 
 of the emperor's brother, the king of Hungary. He was mounted 
 on a compact, yet fine-limbed horse, and both horse and rider 
 were as still as if cut in marble. 
 
 I returned to my room and broke the seal. It was a letter 
 from Iminild, and the bold bearer was an outlaw disguised ! She 
 
 had heard that I was to be released that morning, and desired 
 12
 
 266 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 me to ride out on the road to Gratz. In a postcript she begged 
 I would request Monsieur Percie to accompany me. 
 
 I sent for horses, and wishing to be left to my owu thoughts, 
 ordered Percie to fall behind, and rode slowly out of the southern 
 gate. If the countess Iminild were safe, I had enough of the adven 
 ture for my taste. My oath bound me to protect this wild and 
 unsexed woman, but farther intercourse with a band of outlaws, 
 or farther peril of my head for no reason that either a court of 
 gallantry or of justice would recognize, was beyond my usual 
 programme of pleasant events. The road was a gentle ascent, 
 and with the bridle on the neck of my hack I paced thoughtfully 
 on, till, at a slight turn, we stood at a fair height above Vienna. 
 
 " It is a beautiful city, sir," said Percie, riding up. 
 
 " How the deuce could she have escaped r" said I, thinking 
 aloud. 
 
 " Has she escaped, sir ? Ah, thank Heaven !" exclaimed the 
 passionate boy, the tears rushing to his eyes 
 
 " Why, Percie !" I said with a toue'of surprise which called a 
 blush into his face, " have you really found leisure to fall in love 
 amid all this imbroglio ?" 
 
 " I beg pardon, my dear master !" he replied in a confused 
 voice, " I scarce know what it is to fall in love ; but I would die 
 for Miladi Iminild." 
 
 " Not at all an impossible sequel, my poor boy ! But wheel 
 about and touch your hat, for here comes some one of the royal 
 family !" 
 
 A horseman was approaching at an easy canter, over the 
 broad and unfenced plain of table-land which overlooks Vienna 
 on the south, attended by six mounted servants in the white ker-
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 267 
 
 soymere frocks, braided with the two-headed black eagle, which, 
 distinguish the members of the imperial household. 
 
 The carriages on the road stopped while he passed, the foot 
 passengers touched thqk caps, and, as he came near, I perceived 
 that he was slight and young, but rode with a confidence and a 
 grace not often attained. His horse had the subdued, half-fiery 
 action of an Arab, and Percie nearly dropped from his saddle 
 when the young horseman suddenly drove in his spurs, and with 
 almost a single vault stood motionless before us. 
 
 " Monsieur !" 
 
 " Madame la Confesse ! v 
 
 I was uncertain how to receive her, and took refuge in civility. 
 Whether she would be overwhelmed with the recollection of 
 Yvain's death, or had put away the thought altogether with her 
 masculine firmness, was a dilemma for which the eccentric con 
 tradictions of her character left me no probable solution. Motion 
 ing with her hand after saluting me, two of the party rode back 
 and forward in different directions, as if patrolling ; and giving a 
 look between a tear and a smile at Percie, she placed her hand in 
 mine, and shook off her saduess with a strong effort. 
 
 " You did not expect so large a suite with your protegtef she 
 said, rather gayly, after a moment. 
 
 " Do I understand that you come now to put yourself under 
 my protection ?" I asked in reply. 
 
 " Soon, but not now, nor here. I have a hundred men at the 
 foot of Mount Semering, whose future fate, in some important 
 respects, none can decide but myself. Yvain was always pre 
 pared for this, and everything is en train. I come now but to 
 appoint a place of meeting. Quick ! my patrol comes in, and
 
 268 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 some one approaches whom we must fly. Can you await me at 
 Gratz ?" 
 
 " I can and will !" 
 
 She put her slight hand to my lips, waved a kiss at Percie, and 
 away with the speed of wind, flew her swift Arab over the 
 plain, followed by the six horsemen, every one of whom seemed 
 part of the animal that carried him he rode so admirably. 
 
 The slight figure of Iminild in the close-fitting dress of a Hunga 
 rian page, her jacket open and her beautiful limbs perfectly defined, 
 silver fringes at her ankles and waist, and a row of silver buttons 
 gallonne down to the instep, her bright, flashing eyes, her short 
 curls escaping from her cap and tangled over her left temple, 
 with the gold tassel, dirk and pistol at her belt, and spurs upon 
 her heels it was an apparition I had scarce time to realize, but 
 it seemed painted on my eyes. The cloud of dust which fol 
 lowed their rapid flight faded away as I watched it, but I saw her 
 still. 
 
 " Shall I ride back and? order post-horses, sir ?" asked Percie, 
 standing up in his stirrups. 
 
 " No ; but you may order dinner at six. And Percie !" he 
 was riding away with a gloomy air ; " you may go to the police 
 and get our passports, for Venice." 
 
 " By the way of Gratz, sir r" 
 
 " Yes, simpleton !" 
 
 There is a difference between sixteen and twenty-six, I thought 
 to myself, as the handsome boy flogged his horse into a gallop. 
 The time is gone when I could love without reason. Yet I 
 remember when a feather, stuck jauntingly into a bonnet, would 
 have made any woman a princess ; and in those days, Heaven 
 help us ! I should have loved this woman more for her galliard-
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 269 
 
 ize than ten times a prettier one with all the virtues of Dorcas. 
 For which of my sins am I made guardian to a robber's wife, I 
 wonder ! 
 
 The heavy German postillions, with their cocked hats and yel 
 low coats, got us over the ground after a manner, and toward the 
 sunset of a summer's evening the tall castle of Gratz, perched on 
 a pinnacle of rock in the centre of a vast plain, stood up boldly 
 against the reddening sky. The rich fields of Styria were ripen 
 ing to an early harvest, the people sat at their doors with the look 
 of household happiness for which the inhabitants of these " des 
 potic countries" are so remarkable ; and now and then on the 
 road the rattling of steel scabbards drew my attention from 
 a book or a revery, and the mounted troops, so perpetually seen 
 on the broad roads of Austria, lingered slowly past with their dust 
 and baggage-trains. 
 
 It had been a long summer's day, and, contrary to my usual 
 practice, I had not mounted, even for half a post, to Percie's 
 side in the rumble. Out of humor with fate for having drawn 
 me into very embarrassing circumstances out of humor with 
 myself for the quixotic step which had first brought it on me 
 and a little out of humor with Percie (perhaps from an unacknow 
 ledged jealousy of Iminild's marked preference for the varlet), I 
 left him to toast alone in the sun, while I tried to forget him and 
 myself in " Le Marquis de Pontangos." What a very clever 
 book it is, by the way ! 
 
 The pompous sergeant of the guard performed his office upon 
 my passport at the gate giving me at least a kreutzer worth of 
 his majesty's black sand in exchange for my florin and my Eng 
 lish curse (I said before I was out of temper, and he was half an
 
 270 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 hour writing bis abominable name), and leaving my carriage and 
 Percie to find their way together to the hotel, I dismounted at 
 the foot of a steep street and made my way to the battlements of 
 the castle, in search of scenery and equanimity. 
 
 Ah ! what a glorious landscape ! The precipitous rock on 
 which the old fortress is built seems dropped by the Titans in the 
 midst of a plain, extending miles in every direction, with scarce 
 another pebble. Close at its base run the populous streets, 
 coiling about it like serpents around a pyramid, and away from 
 the walls of the city spread the broad fields, laden/ as far as the 
 eye can see, with tribute for the emperor ! The tall castle, with 
 its armed crest, looks down among the reapers. 
 
 " You have not lost your friend and lover, yet you are melan 
 choly !" said a voice behind me, that I was scarce startled 
 to hear. 
 
 " Is it you, Iminild ?" 
 
 " Scarce the same for Iminild was never before so sad. It is 
 something in the sunset. Come away whilst the woman keeps 
 down in me, and let us stroll through the Plaza, where the band 
 is playing. Do you love military music ?" 
 
 I looked at the costume and figure of the extraordinary crea 
 ture before I ventured with her on a public promenade. She was 
 dressed like one of the travelling apprentices of Germany, with 
 cap and bleuzer, and had assumed the air of the craft with a 
 success absolutely beyond detection. I gave her my arm and we 
 sauntered through the crowd, listening to the thrilling music of 
 one of the finest bands in Germany. The privileged character 
 and free manners of the wandering craftsmen whose dress she had 
 adopted, I was well aware, reconciled, in the eyes of the 
 inhabitants, the marked contrast between our conditions in life.
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA 271 
 
 They would simply have said, if they had made a remark at all, 
 that the Englishman was bon enfant and the craftsman bon cama- 
 rade. 
 
 " You had better look at me, messieurs!" said the dusty ap 
 prentice, as two officers of the regiment passed and gave me the 
 usual strangers' stare ; " I am better worth your while by exactly 
 five thousand florins." 
 
 " And pray how ?" I asked. 
 
 " That price is set on my head." 
 
 " Heavens ! and you walk here r" 
 
 " They kept you longer than usual with your passport, I pre 
 sume ?" 
 
 " At the gate ? yes." 
 
 " I came in with my pack at the time. They have orders to 
 examine all travellers and passports with unusual care, these 
 sharp officials ! But I shall get out as easily as I got in !" 
 
 " My dear countess !" I said, in a tone of serious remonstrance, 
 " do not trifle with the vigilance of the best police in Europe ! I 
 am your guardian, and you owe my advice some respect. Come 
 away from the square and let us talk of it in earnest." 
 
 " Wise seignior ! suffer me to remind you how deftly I slipped 
 through the fingers of these gentry after our tragedy in Vienna, 
 and pay my opinion some respec.t ! It was my vanity that brought 
 me, with my lackeys, to meet you a la prince royale so near Vi 
 enna ; and hence this alarm in the police, for I was seen and sus 
 pected. I have shown myself to you in my favorite character, 
 however, and have done with such measures. You shall see me 
 on the road to-morrow, safe as the heart in your bosom. Where 
 is Monsieur Percie !" 
 
 " At the hotel. But stay ! can I trust you with yourself ?
 
 2ta FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " Yes, and dull company, too ' A revoir /" 
 
 And whistling the popular air of the craft she had assumed, 
 the countess Iminild struck her long staff on the pavement, and 
 with the gait of a tired and habitual pedestrian, disappeared by 
 a narrow street leading under the precipitory battlements of the 
 castle. 
 
 Percie made his appearance with a cup of coffee the following 
 morning, and, with the intention of posting a couple of leagues to 
 breakfast, I hurried through my toilet and was in my carriage au 
 hour after sunrise. The postillion was in his saddle, and only 
 waited for Percie, who, upon inquiry, was nowhere to be found. 
 I sat fifteen minutes, and just as I was beginning to be alarmed, 
 he ran into the large court of the hotel, and, crying out to 
 the postillion that all was right, jumped into his place with an 
 agility, it struck me, very unlike his usual gpntlemanlike delibera 
 tion. Determining to take advantage of the first up-hill to cate 
 chize him upon his matutinal rambles, I read the signs along the 
 Btreet till we pulled up at the gate. 
 
 Iminild's communication had prepared me for an unusual delay 
 with my passport, and I was not surprised when the officer, in 
 returning it to me, requested me as a matter of form, *o declare, 
 upon my honor, that the servant behind my carriage was an 
 Englishman, and the person mentioned in my passport. 
 
 " Foi d'honneur, monsieur," I said, placing my hand politely 
 on my heart, and off trotted the postillion, while the captain of 
 the guard, flattered with my civility, touched his foragiug-cap, 
 and sent me a German blessing through his mustache. 
 
 It was a divine morning, and the fresh and dewy air took me 
 back many a year, to the days when I was more familiar with
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 
 
 the hour. We had a long trajet across the plain, and unlooping 
 an antivibration tablet, for the invention of which my ingenuity 
 took great credit to itself (suspended on caoutchouc cords from 
 the roof of the carriage and deserving of a patent f trust you 
 will allow !) I let off my poetical vein in the following beginning 
 to what might have turned out, but for "the interruption, a very 
 edifying copy of verses: 
 
 ' Ye are not what you were to me, 
 
 Oh waning night and morning star ! 
 Though silent still your watches flee 
 
 Though hang yon lamp in heaven as far 
 Though live the thoughts ye fed of yore 
 I'm thine, oh starry dawn, no more ! 
 Yet to that dew-pearled hour alone 
 
 I was not folly's blindest child ; 
 It came when wearied mirth had flown, 
 
 And sleep was on the gay and wild ; 
 And wakeful with repentjfht pain, 
 
 I lay amid its lap of flowers, 
 And with a truant's earnest brain 
 
 Turned back the leaves of wasted hours. 
 The angels that by day would flee, 
 Returned, oh morning star ! with thee ! 
 
 Yet now again * * * * 
 
 ***** 
 
 A foot thrust into my carriage-window rudely broke the thread 
 of these delicate musings. The postillion was on a walk, and 
 before I could get my wits back from their wool-gathering, the 
 countess Iminild, in Percie's clothes, sat laughing on the cushion 
 beside me. 
 
 " On what bird's back has your ladyship descended from tlie 
 clouds ?" I asked with unfeigned astonishment. 
 12*
 
 274 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 " The same bird has brought us both down c'est a dire, if you 
 are not still en Vaiff* she. added, looking from my scrawled tablets 
 to my perplexed face. 
 
 " Are you really and really the countess Iminild ?" I asked 
 with a smile, looking down at the trowsered feet and loose-fitting 
 boots of the pseudo-valet. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! but I leave it to you to swear, ' foi cPhonncurJ 
 that a born countess is an English valet !" And she laughed so 
 long and merrily that the postillion looked over his yellow epau 
 lets in astonishment. 
 
 " Kind, generous Percie !" she said, changing her tone pres 
 ently to one of great feeling, " I would scarce believe him last 
 night when he informed me as an inducement to 'leave him 
 behind, that he was only a servant ! You never told me this. 
 But he is a gentleman, in every feeling as well as in every feature, 
 and by Heavens ! he shall be a menial no longer !" 
 
 This speech, begun with much tenderness, rose, toward the 
 close, to the violence of passion ; and folding her arms with an 
 air of defiance, the ladyoutlaw threw herself back in the carriage. 
 
 " I have no objection," I said, after a short silence, " that 
 Percie should set up for a gentleman. Nature has certainly 
 done her part to make him one ; but till you can give him means 
 and education, the coat which you wear, with such a grace, is his 
 safest shell. ' Ants live safely till they have gotten wings,' says 
 the old proverb." 
 
 The blowing of the postillion's horn interrupted the argument, 
 and a moment after, we were rolled up with German leisure, to 
 the door of the small inn where I had designed to breakfast. 
 
 O 
 
 Thinking it probable that the people of the house, in so small a 
 village, would be too simple to make any dangerous comments
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 
 
 upon our appearance, I politely handed the countess out of the 
 carriage, and ordered plates for two. 
 
 '' It is scarce worth while," she said, as she heard the order, 
 " for I shall remain at the door on the look out. The eil-waggen 
 for Trieste, which was to leave Gratz an hour after us, will be 
 soon here, and (if my friends have served me well) Percie 
 in it. St. Mary speed him safely !" 
 
 She strode away to a small hillock to look out for the lumber 
 ing diligence, with a gait that was no stranger to " doublet and 
 hose.'' It soon came on with its usual tempest of whip-cracking 
 and bugle-blasts, and nearly overturning a fat burgher, who 
 would have proffered the assistance of his hand, out jumped 
 a petticoat, which I saw at a glance, gave a very embarrassed 
 motion to gentleman Percie. 
 
 " This young lady," said the countess, dragging the striding 
 and unwilling damsel into the little parlor where I was breakfasting, 
 " travels under the charge of a deaf old brazier, who has been 
 requested to protect her modesty as far as Laybach. Make 
 a courtesy, child !" 
 
 " I beg pardon* sir !" began Percie. 
 
 " Hush, hush ! no English !" Walls have ears, and your 
 voice is rather gruffish, mademoiselle. Show me your passport ? 
 Cunegunda Von Krakenpate, eighteen years of age, blue eyes, nose 
 and chin middling, etc ! There is the conductor's horn ! Allez 
 cite ! We meet at Laybach. Adieu, charmante femme ! 
 Adieu !" 
 
 And with the sort of caricatured elegance which women 
 always assume in their imitations of our sex, Countess Iminild, in 
 frock-coat and trowsers, helped into the diligence, in hood and 
 petticoat, my " tiger" from Cranbourne-alley !
 
 276 F UN JOTTINGS. 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 SPITE of remonstrance on my part, the imperative countess, 
 who had asserted her authority more than once on our way to 
 Laybach, insisted on the company of Miss Cunegunda Von Krak- 
 enpate, in an evening walk around the town. Fearing that Per- 
 cie's masculine stride would betray him, and objecting to lend 
 myself to a farce with my valet, I opposed the freak as long as it 
 was courteous but it was not the first time I had learned that a 
 spoiled woman would have her own way, and too vexed to laugh, 
 I soberly promenaded the broad avenue of the capital of Styria, 
 with a valet en demoiselle, and a dame en valet. 
 
 It was but a few hours hence to Planina, and Iminild, who 
 seemed to fear no risk out of a walled city, waited on Percie to 
 the carriage the following morning, and in a few hours we drove 
 up to the rural inn of this small town of Littorale. 
 
 I had been too much out of humor to ask the countess a second 
 time what errand she could have in so rustic a neighborhood. She 
 had made a mystery of it, merely requiring of me that I should defer 
 all arrangements for the future, as far as she was concerned, till 
 we had visited a spot in Littorale, upon which her fate in many 
 respects depended. After twenty fruitless conjectures, I aban 
 doned myself to the course of circumstances, reserving only the 
 determination, if it should prove a haunt of iTvian's troop, to 
 separate at once from her company and await l.er at Trieste. 
 
 Our dinner was preparing at the inn, and t.red of the embar 
 rassment Percie exhibited in my presence I walked out and 
 seated myself under an immense linden, that every traveller will
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 2 If 
 
 remember, standing in the centre of the motley and indescribable 
 clusters of buildings, which serve the innkeeper and blacksmith of 
 Planina for barns, forge, dwelling, and out-houses. The tree 
 seems the father of the village. It was a hot afternoon, and I 
 was compelled to dispute the shade with a congregation, of cows 
 and double-jointed post-horses ; but finding a seat high up on the 
 root, at last I busied myself with gazing down the road, and con 
 jecturing what a cloud of dust might contain, which in an oppo 
 site direction from that which we had come, was slowly creeping 
 onward to the inn. 
 
 Four roughly-harnessed horses at length appeared, with their 
 traces tied over their backs one of them ridden by a man in a 
 farmer's frock. They struck me at first as fine specimens of the 
 German breed of draught-horses, with their shaggy fetlocks and 
 long manes ; but while they drank at the trough which stood in 
 the shade of the linden, the low tone in which the man checked 
 their greedy thirst, and the instant obedience of the well-trained 
 animals, awakened at once my suspicions that we were to become 
 better acquainted. A more narrow examination convinced me 
 that, covered with dust and disguised with coarse harness as they 
 were, they were four horses of such bone and condition, as were 
 never seen in a farmer's stables. The rider dismounted at the 
 inn door, and very much to the embarrassment of my supposi 
 tions, the landlord, a stupid and heavy Boniface, greeted him 
 with the familiarity of an old acquaintance, and in answer, ap 
 parently to an inquiry, pointed to my carriage, and led him into 
 the house. 
 
 " Monsieur Tyrell," said Iminild, coming out to me a moment 
 after, " a servant whom I had expected has arrived with my
 
 278 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 horses, and with your consent, they shall be put to your carriage 
 immediately." 
 
 " To take us where ?" 
 
 " To our place of destination." 
 
 " Too indefinite, by half, countess ! Listen to me ! I have 
 very sufficient reason to fancy that, in leaving the post-road to 
 Trieste, I shall leave the society of honest men. You and your 
 ' minions of the moon' may be very pleasant, but you are not 
 very safe companions ; and having really a wish to die quietly in 
 my bed " 
 
 The countess burst into a laugh. 
 
 " If you will have the character of the gentleman you are 
 about to visit from the landlord here " 
 
 " Who is one of your ruffians himself, I'll be sworn !" 
 
 " No, on my honor ! A more innocent old beer-guzzler lives 
 not on the road. But I will tell you thus much, and it ought to 
 content you. Ten miles to the west of this dwells a country gen 
 tleman, who, the landlord will certify, is as honest a subject of 
 his gracious majesty as is to be found in Littorale. He lives 
 freely on his means, and entertains strangers occasionally from 
 all countries, for he has been a traveller in bis time. You are 
 invited to pass a day or two with this Mynheer Krakenpate (who, 
 by the way, has no objection to pass for the father of the young 
 lady you have so kindly brought from Laybach), and he has sent 
 you his horses, like a generous host, to bring you to his door. 
 More seriously, this was a retreat of Yvain's, where he would 
 live quietly and play bon citoyen, and you have nothing earthly to 
 fear in accompanying me thither. And now will you wait and 
 eat the greasy meal you have ordered, or will you save your appe-
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 79 
 
 tite for la fortune, de, pot at Mynheer Krakenpate's, and get 
 presently on the roadr" 
 
 I yielded rather to the seducing smile and captivating beauty of 
 my pleasing ward, than to any confidence in the honesty of Mynheer 
 Krakenpate ; and Percie being once more ceremoniously handed 
 in, we left the village at the sober trot becoming the fat steeds of a 
 landholder. A quarter of a mile of this was quite sufficient for 
 Iminild, and a word to the postillion changed, like a metamorpho 
 sis, both horse and rider. From a heavy unelastic figure, he rose 
 into a gallant and withy horseman, and, with one of his low- 
 spoken words, away flew the four compact animals, treading 
 lightly as cats, and with the greatest apparent ease, putting us 
 over the ground at the rate of fourteen miles in the hour. 
 
 The dust was distanced, a pleasant breeze was created by the 
 motion, and when at last we turned from the main road, and sped 
 off to the right at the same exhilarating pace, I returned Iminild's 
 arch look of remonstrance with my best-humored smile and an 
 affectionate je me fie a vous ! Miss Krakenpate, I observed, ech 
 oed the sentiment by a slight pressure of the countess's arm, look 
 ing very innocently out of the window all the while. 
 
 A couple of miles, soon done, brought us round the face of a 
 craggy precipice, forming the brow of a hill, and with a continu 
 ation of the turn, we drew up at the gate of a substantial-look 
 ing building, something between a villa and a farm-house, built 
 against the rock, as if for the purpose of shelter from' the north 
 winds. Two beautiful Angora hounds sprang out at the noise, 
 and recognized Iminild through all her disguise, and presently, 
 with a look of forced courtesy, as if not quite sure whether he 
 might throw off the mask, a stout man of about fifty, hardly a 
 gentleman, yet above a common peasant in his manners, stepped
 
 280 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 forward from the garden to give Miss Krakenpate his assistance 
 in alighting. 
 
 " Dinner in halt' an hour !" was Iminild's brief greeting, and, 
 stepping between her bowing dependent and Percie, she led the 
 way into the house. 
 
 I was shown into a chamber, furnished scarce above the com 
 mon style of a German inn, where I made a hungry man's dispatch 
 of my toilet, and descended at once to the parlor. The doors 
 were all open on the ground floor, and, finding myself quite alone, 
 I sauntered from room to room, wondering at the scantiness of 
 the furniture and general air of discomfort, and scarce able to 
 believe that the same mistress presided over this and the singu 
 lar paradise in which I had first found her at Vienna. After 
 visiting every corner of the ground floor with a freedom which I 
 assumed in my character as guardian, it occurred to me that I 
 had not yet found the dining-room, and I was making a new 
 search, when Iminild entered. 
 
 I have said she was a beautiful woman. She was dressed now 
 in the Albanian costume, with the additional gorgeousness of 
 gold embroidery, which might distinguish the favorite child of a 
 chief of Suli. It was the male attire, with a snowy white juktanilla 
 reaching to the knee, a short jacket of crimson velvet, and a close- 
 tuttoned vest of silver cloth, fitting admirably to her girlish bust, 
 and leaving her slender and pearly neck to rise bare and swan-like 
 into the masses of her clustering hair. Her slight waist was defined 
 by the girdle of fine linen edged with fringe of gold, which was tied 
 coquettishly over her left side and fell to her ankle, and below the 
 embroidered leggin appeared the fairy foot, which had drawn upon 
 me all this long train of adventure, thrust into a Turkish slipper 
 with a sparkling emerald on its instep. A feroniere of the yel-
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 281 
 
 lowest gold sequins bound her hair back from her temples, and 
 this was the only confinement to the dark brown meshes which, 
 in wavy lines and in the richest profusion, fell almost to her feet. 
 The only blemish to this vision of loveliness was a flush about her 
 eyes. The place had recalled Yvain to her memory. 
 
 " I am about to disclose to you secrets," said she, laying her 
 hand on my arm, " which have never been revealed but to the 
 most trusty of Yvain's confederates. To satisfy those whom you 
 will meet you must swear to me on the same cross which he 
 pressed to your lips when dying, that you will never violate, while 
 I live, the trust we repose in you." 
 
 " I will take no oath," I said ; " for you are leading me blind 
 folded. If you are not satisfied with the assurance that I can be 
 tray no confidence which honor would preserve, hungry as I am, 
 I will yet dine in Planina." 
 
 " Then I will trust to the faith of an Englishman. And now 
 I have a favor, not to beg, but to insist upon that from this 
 moment you consider Percie as dismissed from your service, and 
 treat him, while here at least, as my equal and friend." 
 
 " Wiilingly !" I said ; and a? the word left my lips, enter Per 
 cie in the counterpart dress of Iminild, with a silver-sheathed 
 ataghan at his side, and the bluish muzzles of a pair of Egg's 
 hair-triggers peeping from below his girdle. To do the rascal 
 justice, he was as handsome in his new toggery as his mistress, 
 and carried it as gallantly. They would have made the prettiest 
 tableau as Juan and Haidee. 
 
 " Is there any chance that these ' persuaders' may be neces 
 sary," I asked, pointing to his pistols, which awoke in my mind a 
 momentary suspicion. 
 
 " No none that I can foresee but they are loaded. A favor-
 
 282 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ite, among men whose passions are professionally wild," she con 
 tinued with a meaning glance at Percie ; " should be ready to lay 
 his hand on them, even if stirred in his sleep !" 
 
 I had heen so accustomed to surprises of late, that I scarce 
 started to observe, while Iminild was speaking, that an old-fash 
 ioned clock, which stood in a niche in the wall, was slowly swing 
 ing out upon hinges. A narrow aperture of sufficient breadth to 
 admit one person at a time, was disclosed when it had made its 
 entire revolution, and in it stood, with a lighted torch, the stout 
 landlord Von Krakenpate. Iminild looked at me an instant as 
 if to enjoy my surprise. + 
 
 " Will you lead me in to dinner, Mr. Tyrell ?" she said, at last, 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " If we are to follow Mynheer Von Krakenpate," I replied, 
 " give me hold of the skirt of your juktanilla, rather, and let me 
 follow ! Do we dine in the cellar ?" 
 
 I stepped before Percie, who was inclined to take advantage of 
 my hesitation to precede me, and followed the countess into tho 
 opening, which, from the position of the house, I saw must lead 
 directly into the face of the rock. Two or three descending steps 
 convinced me that it was a natural opening enlarged by art ; and 
 after one or two sharp turns, and a descent of perhaps fifty feet, 
 we came to a door which, suddenly flung open by our torch-bearer, 
 deluged the dark passage with a blaze of light which the eye 
 sight almost refused to bear. Recovering from my amazement, I 
 stepped over the threshold of the door, and stood upon a carpet 
 in a gallery of sparkling stalactites, the dazzling reflection of 
 innumerable lamps flooding the air around, and a long snow- 
 white vista of the same brilliancy and efiect stretching downward 
 before me. Two ridges of the calcareous strata running almost
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 283 
 
 parallel over our heads, formed the cornices of the descending 
 corridor, and from these, with a regularity that seemed like de 
 sign, the sparkling pillars, white as alabaster, and shaped like 
 inverted cones, dropped nearly to the floor, their transparent 
 points resting on the peaks of the corresponding stalagmites, 
 which, of a darker hue and coarser grain, seemed designed as 
 bases to a new order of architectural columns. The reflection 
 from the pure crystalline rock gave to this singular gallery a 
 Splendor which only the palace of Aladdin could have equalled. 
 The lamps were hung between in irregular but effective ranges, 
 and in our descent, like Thalaba, who refreshed his dazzled eyes 
 in the desert of snow by looking on the green wings of the spirit 
 bird, I was compelled to bend my eyes perpetually for relief upon 
 the soft, dark masses of hair which floated upon the lovely shoul 
 ders of Iminild. 
 
 At the extremity of the gallery we turned short to the right, 
 and followed an irregular passage, sometimes so low that we could 
 scarce stand upright, but all lighted with the same intense bril 
 liancy, and formed of the same glittering and snow-white sub 
 stance. We had been rambling on thus far perhaps ten minutes, 
 when suddenly the air, which I had felt uncomfortably chill, grew 
 warm and soft, and the low reverberation of running water fell 
 delightfully on our ears. Far ahead* we could see two sparry 
 columns standing close together, and apparently closing up the 
 way. 
 
 "Courage! my venerable guardian !" cried Iminild, laughing 
 over her shoulder ; " you will see your dinner presently. Are you 
 hungry, Percie ?" 
 
 " Not while you look back, Madame la Comtesse !" an-
 
 284 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ewered the callow gentleman, with an instinctive tact at his new 
 vocation. 
 
 \Ve stood at the two pillars which formed the extremity of the 
 passage, and looked down upon a scene of which all description 
 must be faint and imperfect. A hundred feet below ran a broad 
 subterraneous river, whose waters, sparkling in the blaze of a 
 thousand torches, sprang into light from the deepest darkness, 
 crossed with foaming rapidity the bosom of the vast illuminated 
 cavern, and disappeared again in the same inscrutable gloom. 
 Whence it came or whither it fled was a mystery beyond the 
 reach of the eye. The deep recesses of the cavern seemed darker 
 for the intense light gathered about, the centre. 
 
 After the first few minutes of bewilderment, I endeavored to 
 realize in detail the wondrous scene before me. The cavern was 
 of an irregular shape, but all studded above with the same sparry 
 incrustations, thousands upon thousands of pendent stalactites 
 glittering on the roof, and showering back light upon the clusters 
 of blazing torches fastened every where upon the shelvy sides. 
 Here and there vast columns, alabaster white, with bases of gold 
 color, fell from the roof to the floor, like pillars left standing in 
 the ruined aisle of a cathedral, and from corner to corner ran 
 thin curtains of the same brilliant calcareous spar, shaped like 
 the sharp edge of a snowdrift, and almost white. It was like 
 laying bare the palace of some king 'wizard of the mine to gaze 
 down upon it. 
 
 " What think you of Mynheer Krakenpate's taste in a dining- 
 room, Monsieur Tyrell r" asked the countess, who stood between 
 Percie and myself, with a hand on the shoulder of each. 
 
 I had scarce found time, as yet, to scrutinize the artificial por 
 tion of the marvellous scene, but, at the question of Iininild, I
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 285 
 
 bent my gaze on a broad platform, rising high above the river on 
 its opposite bank, the rear of which was closed in by perhaps 
 forty irregular columns, leaving between them and the sharp pre 
 cipice^ on the river-side, an area, in height and extent of about 
 the capacity of a ball-room. A rude bridge, of very light con 
 struction, rose in a single arch across the river, forming the only 
 possible access to the platform from the side where we stood, 
 and, following the path back with my eye, I observed a narrow 
 and spiral staircase, partly of wood and partly cut in the rock, 
 ascending from the bridge to the gallery we had followed hither. 
 The platform was carpeted richly, and flooded with intense light, 
 and in its centre stood a gorgeous array of smoking dishes, served 
 after the Turkish fashion, with a cloth upon the floor, and sur 
 rounded with cushions and ottomans of every shape and color. 
 A troop of black slaves, whose silver anklets, glittered as they 
 moved, were busy bringing wines and completing the arrange 
 ments for the meaL 
 
 . "Allans, mignon!^ cried Iminild, getting impatient and seiz 
 ing Percie's arm, " let us get over the river, and perhaps Mr. 
 Tyrell will look down upon us with his grands yeux while we 
 dine. Oh, you will come with us ! Suivez done /" 
 
 An iron door, which I had not hitherto observed, let us out 
 from the gallery upon the staircase, and Mynheer Von Kraken- 
 pate carefully turned the key behind us. We crept slowly down 
 the narrow staircase and reached the edge of the river, where the 
 warm air from the open sunshine came pouring through the cav 
 ern with the current, bringing with it a smell of green fields and 
 flowers, and removing entirely the chill of the cavernous and con 
 fined atmosphere I had found so uncomfortable above. We 
 crossed the bridge, and stepping upon the elastic carpets piled
 
 286 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 thickly on the platform, arranged ourselves about the smoking 
 repast, Mynheer Von Krakenpate sitting down after permission 
 from Iminild, and Percie by order of the same imperative dicta- 
 tress, throwing his graceful length at her feet. 
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 " TAKE a lesson in flattery from Percie, Mr. Tyrell, and be 
 satisfied with your bliss in my society without asking for explana 
 tions. I would fain have the use of my tongue (to swallow) for 
 ten minutes, and I see you making up your mouth for a question. 
 Try this pilau ! It is made by a Greek cook, who fries, boils, 
 and stews, in a kitchen with a river for a chimney." 
 
 " Precisely what I was going to ask you. I vras wondering 
 how you cook without smoking your snow-white roof." 
 
 " Yes, the river is a good slave, and steals wood as well. We 
 have only to cut it by moonlight and commit it to the current." 
 
 " The kitchen is down stream, then ?" 
 
 " Down stream ; and down stream lives jolly Perdicaris the 
 cook, who having lost his nose in a sea-fight, is reconciled to for 
 swear sunshine and mankind and cook rice for pirates." 
 
 " Is it true then that Yvain held command on the sea ? w 
 
 " No, not Yvain, but Tranchcoeur his equal in command 
 over this honest confederacy. By the way, he is your country 
 man, Mr. Tyrell, though he fights under a nom de guerre. You 
 are very likely to see him, too, for his bark is at Trieste, and he 
 is the only human being besides myself (and my company here) 
 who can come and go at will in this robber's paradise. He is a
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 287 
 
 lover of mine, parbleu ! and since Yvain's death, Heaven knows 
 what fancy he may bring hither in his hot brain ! I have armed 
 1'oicie for the hazard !" 
 
 The thin nostrils of my friend from Cranbourne-alley dilated 
 with prophetic dislike of a rival thus abruptly alluded to, 
 and there was that in his face which would have proved, 
 against all the nurses' oaths in Christendom, that the spirit 
 of a gentleman's blood ran warm through his heart. Signor 
 Tranchcosur must be gentle in his suit, I said to myself, or 
 he will ' find what virtue lies in hair-triggers ! Percie had 
 forgot to eat since the mention of the pirate's name, and sat with 
 folded arms and his right hand on his pistol. 
 
 A black slave brought in an omelette soufflee, as light and deli 
 cate as the chef-d'(euvre of an artiste in the Palais Royal. Imin- 
 ild spoke to him in Greek, as he knelt and placed it before her. 
 
 " I have a presentiment," she said, looking at me as the slave 
 disappeared, " that Tranchcoaur will be here presently. I have 
 ordered another omelette on the strength of the feeling, for he 
 is fond of it, and may be soothed by the attention." 
 
 '*' You fear him, then r" 
 
 " Not if I were alone, for he is as gentle as a, woman when 
 he has no rival near him but I doubt his relish of Percie. 
 Have you dined ?" 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " Then come and look at my garden, and have a peep at old 
 Perdicaris. Stay here, Percie, and finish your grapes, mon- 
 mignon! I have a word to say to Mr. Tyrell." 
 
 We walked across the platform, and passing between two of 
 the sparry columns forming its boundary, entered upon a low 
 passage which led to a large opening, resembling singularly
 
 288 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 a garden of low shrubs turned by some magic to sparkling 
 marble. 
 
 Two or three hundred of these stalagmite cones, formed by the 
 dripping of calcareous water from the roof (as those on the roof 
 were formed by the same fluid which hardened and pondered), 
 stood about in the spacious area, every shrub having an answering 
 cone on the roof, like the reflection of the same marble garden in 
 a mirror. One side of this singular apartment was used as a 
 treasury for the spoils of the band, and on the points of the white 
 cones hung pitchers and altar lamps of silver, gold drinking-cups, 
 and chains, and plate and jewelery of every age and description. 
 Farther on were piled, in unthrifty confusion, heaps of velvets 
 and silks, fine broadcloths, French gloves, shoes and slippers, 
 brocades of Genoa, pieces of English linen, damask curtains 
 still fastened to their cornices, a harp and mandolin, cases of 
 damaged bons-bons, two or three richly-bound books, and (last 
 and most valuable in my eyes), a miniature bureau, evidently the 
 plunder of some antiquary's treasure, containing in its little 
 drawers antique gold coins of India, carefully dated and arranged, 
 with a list of its contents half torn from the lid. 
 
 " You should hear Tranchcoaur's sermons on these pretty 
 texts," said the countess, trying to thrust open a bale of Brusa 
 Bilk with her Turkish slipper. " He will beat off the top of 
 a stalagmite with his sabre-hilt, and sit down and talk 
 over his spoils and the adventures they recall, till morning 
 dawns." 
 
 " And how is that discovered in this sunless cave ?" 
 
 " By the perfume. The river brings news of it, and fills the 
 cavern with the sun's first kisses. Those violets ' kiss and tell,' 
 Mr. Tyrell ! Apropos des bottes, let us look into the kitchen."
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 289 
 
 We turned to the right, keeping on the same level, and a few 
 steps brought us to the brow of a considerable descent, forming 
 the lower edge of the carpeted platform, but separated from it by 
 a wall of close stalactites. At the bottom of the descent ran 
 the river, but just along the brink, forming a considerable cres 
 cent, extended a flat rock, occupied by all the varied implements 
 of a kitchen, and lighted by the glare of two or three different 
 fires blazing against the perpendicular limit of the cave. The 
 smoke of these followed the inclination of the wall, and was 
 swept entirely down with the current of the river. At the near 
 est fire stood Perdicaris, a fat, long-haired and sinister-looking 
 rascal, his noseless face glowing with the heat, and at his side 
 waited, with a silver-dish, the Nubian slave who had been sent 
 for Tranchcoeur's omelette. 
 
 " One of the most bloody fights of my friend the rover,'' said 
 Iminild, " was with an armed slaver, from whom he took these 
 six pages of mine. They have reason enough to comprehend 
 an order, but too little to dream of liberty. They are as con 
 tented as tortoises, ici-bas." 
 
 " Is there no egress hence but by the iron door ?" 
 
 " None that I know of, unless one could swim up this swift river 
 like a salmon. You may have surmised by this time, that we mo 
 nopolize an unexplored part of the great cave of Adelsberg. Com 
 mon report says it extends ten miles under ground, but common 
 report has never burrowed as far as this, and I doubt whether 
 there is any communication. Father Krakenpate's clock con 
 ceals an entrance, discovered first by robbers, and handed down 
 by tradition, Heaven knows how long. But hark ! Tranchcoeur, 
 by Heaven ! my heart foreboded it !" 
 
 I sprang after the countess, who with her last exclamation, 
 13
 
 290 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 darted between fwo of the glittering columns separating us from 
 the platform, and my first glance convinced me that her fullest 
 anticipations of the pirate's jealousy were more than realized. 
 Percie stood with his back to a tall pillar on the farther side, with 
 his pistol levelled, calm and unmovable as a stalactite ; and with 
 his sabre drawn and his eyes flashing fire, a tall, powerfully-built 
 man in a sailor's dress, was arrested by Iminild in the act of 
 rushing on him. " Stop ! or you die, Tranchcosur !'' said the 
 countess in a tone of trifling command. " He is my guest !" 
 
 " He is my prisoner, madame I" was the answer, as the pirate 
 changed his position to one of perfect repose, and shot his sabre 
 iuto his sheath, as if a brief dolay could make little difference. 
 
 " We shall see that," said the countess once more, with as soft 
 a voice as was ever heard in a lady's boudoir ; and stepping to 
 the edge of the platform, she touched with her slipper a suspended 
 gong, which sent through the cavern a shrill reverberation heard 
 clearly over the rushiug music of the river. 
 
 In an instant the click of forty muskets from the other side 
 fell on our ears ; and, at a wave of her hand, the butts rattled on 
 the rocks, and all was still again. 
 
 " I have not trusted myself within your reach, Monsieur 
 Tranchcosur," said Iminild, flinging herself carelessly on an otto 
 man, and motioning Percie to keep his stand, " without a score 
 or two of my free-riders from Mount Semering to regulate your 
 Conscience. I am mistress here, sir ! You may sit down !" 
 
 Tranchcoeur had assumed an air of the most gentlemanly 
 tranquillity, and motioning to one of the slaves for his pipe, 
 he politely begged pardon for smoking in the countess's presence, 
 and filled the enamelled bowl with Shiraz tobacco.
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 291 
 
 " You heard of Yvain's death ?" she remarked after a moment, 
 passing her hand over her eyes. 
 
 " Yes, at Venice." 
 
 " With his dying words, he gave me and mine in charge to 
 this Englishman. Mr. Tyrell, Monsieur Tranchcoeur. " 
 
 The pirate bowed. 
 
 " Have you been long from England ?" he asked, with an accent 
 and voice that even in that brief question, savored of the non 
 chalant English of the west end. 
 
 " Two years !" I answered. 
 
 " I should have supposed much longer from your chivalry in 
 St. Etienne, Mr. Tyrell. My countrymen generally are less 
 hasty. Your valet there," he continued, looking sneeringly at 
 Percie, " seems as quick on the trigger as his master." 
 
 Percie turned on his heel, and walked to the edge of the plat 
 form as if uneasy at the remark, and Iminild rose to her feet. 
 
 " Look you, Tranchcoeur ! I'll have none of your sneers. 
 That youth is as well-born and better bred than yourself, and 
 with his consent, shall have the authority of the Loly church ere 
 long to protect my propu. ty and me. Will you aid me in this, 
 Mr. Tyrell ?' 
 
 " Willingly, countess !" 
 
 " Then, Tranchcoeur, farewell ! I have withdrawn from the 
 common stock Yvain's gold and jewels, and I trust to your sense 
 of honor to render me at Venice whatever else of his private pro 
 perty may be concealed in the island." 
 
 " Tminild !" cried the pirate, springing to his feet, " I did not 
 think to show a weakness before this stranger, but I implore you 
 to delay !" 
 
 His bosom heaved with strong emotion as he spoke, and the
 
 292 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 color fled from his bronzed features as if he were struck with a 
 
 mortal sickness. 
 
 * 
 
 "I cannot, lose you, Iminild ! I have loved you too long. 
 You must " 
 
 She motioned to Percie to pass on. 
 
 " 13y Heaven, you shall !" h'e cried, in a voice suddenly become 
 hoarse with passion ; and reckless of consequences, he leaped 
 across the heaps of cushion, and, seizing Percie by the throat, 
 flung him with terrible and headlong violence into the river. 
 
 A scream from Iminild, and the report of a musket from the 
 other side, rang at the same instant through the cavern, and as I 
 rushed forward to seize the pistol which he had struck from 
 Percie's hand, his half-drawn sabre slid back powerless into the 
 sheath, and Tranchcoeur dropped heavily on his knee. 
 
 " I am peppered, Mr. Tyrell !" he said, waving me off with 
 a difficult effort to smile, " look after the boy, if you care for him ! 
 A curse on her German wolves !" 
 
 Percie met me on the bridge, supporting Iminild, who hung ou 
 his neck, smothering him with kisses. 
 
 " Where is that dog of a pirate ?" she cried, suddenly snatch 
 ing her ataghan from the sheath and fl}ing across the platform. 
 " Tranchcoeur !" 
 
 Her hand.was arrested by the deadly pallor and helpless atti 
 tude of the wounded man, and the weapon dropped as she stood 
 over him. 
 
 " I think it is not mortal," he said, groaning as he pressed his 
 hand to his side, " but take your boy out of my sight ! Iminild !" 
 
 " Well, Tranchcoeur !" 
 
 " I have not done well but you know my nature and my
 
 THE BANDIT OF AUSTRIA. 293 
 
 love ! Forgive me, and farewell ! Send Bertram to stanch this 
 blood I get faint! A little wine, Tminild !" 
 
 He took the massive flagon from her hand, and drank a long 
 draught, and then drawing to him a cloak which lay near, he 
 covered his head and dropped on his side as if to sleep. 
 
 Iminild knelt beside him and tore open the shirt beneath his 
 jacket, and while she busied herself in stanching the blood, Per- 
 dicavis, apparently well prepared for such accidents, arrived with 
 a surgeon's probe, and, on examination of the wound, assured 
 Iminild that she might safely leave him. Washing her hands in 
 the flagon of wine, she threw a cloak over the wet and shivering 
 Percie, and, silent with horror at the scene behind us, we made 
 our way over the bridge, and in a short time, to my infinite re 
 lief, stood in the broad moonlight on the portico of Mynheer. 
 Krakenpate. 
 
 My carriage was soon loaded with the baggage and treasure of 
 the countess, and with the same swift horses that had brought us 
 from Planina, we regained the post-road and sped on toward 
 Venice by the Friuli. We arrived on the following night at the 
 fair city so beloved of romance, and with what haste I might, I 
 procured a priest and married the Countess Iminild to gentleman 
 Percie. 
 
 As she possessed now a natural guardian, and a sufficient 
 means of life, I felt released from my death vow to Yvain, and 
 bidding farewell to the " happy couple," I resumed my quiet 
 habit of travel, and three days after my arrival at Venice, was on 
 the road to Padua by the Brenta.
 
 MY ONE ADVENTURE AS A BRIGAND, 
 
 I WAS standing in^ hostelry, at Geneva, making a bargain with 
 an Italian for a place in a return carriage to Florence, when an 
 Englishman, who had been in the same steamer with me on Lake 
 Leman, the day before, came in and stood listening to the con 
 versation. We had been the only two passengers on board, but 
 Lad passed six hours in each other's company without speaking. 
 The road to an Englishman's friendship is to have shown your 
 self perfectly indiflferent to his acquaintance, and, as I liked him 
 from the first, we were now ready to be conscious of each other's 
 existence. 
 
 " I beg pardon," said he, advancing in a pause of the vettu- 
 rino's oration, " will you allow me to engage a place with you ? 
 I am going to Florence, and if agreeable to you, we will take the 
 carriage to ourselves." 
 
 I agreed very willingly, and in two hours we were free of the 
 gates of Geneva, and keeping along the edge of the lake, in the 
 cool twilight of one of the loveliest of heaven's summer evenings. 
 The carriage was spaciously contrived for four ; and, with the 
 curtains up all around, our feet on the forward seat, my com 
 panion smoking, and conversation bubbling up to please itself, we 
 rolled over the smooth road, gliding into the first chapter of our
 
 MY ONE ADVENTURE AS A BRIGAND. 295 
 
 acquaintance as tranquilly as Geoffrey Crayon and his reader into 
 the first chapter of anything he has written. 
 
 My companion (Mr. St. John Elmslie, as put down in his 
 passport) seemed to have something to think of beside pro 
 pitiating my good will, but he was considerate and winning, from 
 evident high breeding, and quite open, himself, to my most scruti 
 nizing study. He was about thirty, and, without any definite 
 beauty, was a fine specimen of a man. Probably most persons 
 would have called him handsome. I liked him better, probably, 
 from the subdued melancholy with which h brooded on his secret 
 thought, whatever it might be sad men, in this world of boister 
 ous gayety or selfish ill-humor, interesting me always. 
 
 From that something, on which his memory fed in quiet but 
 constant revery, nothing aroused my companion except the pass 
 ing of a travelling carriage, going in the other direction, oil our 
 arrival at an inn. 1 began to suspect, indeed, after a little while, 
 that Elmslie had some understanding with our vetturino, for, 
 on the approach of any vehicle of pleasure, our horses became 
 restiff, and, with a sudden pull up, stood directly across the 
 way. Out jumped my friend to assist in controlling the restiff 
 animals, and, in the five minutes during which the strangers were 
 obliged to wait, we generally saw their heads once or twice thrust 
 inquiringly from the carriage window. This done, our own vehi 
 cle was again wheeled about, and the travellers allowed to pro 
 ceed. 
 
 We had arrived at Bologna with but one interruption to the 
 quiet friendliness of our intercourse. Apropos of some vein of 
 speculation, I had asked my companion if he were married. He 
 was silent for a moment, and then, in a jocose tone of voice which 
 was new to me, replied, " I believe I have a wife somewhere in
 
 296 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Scotland." But though Elinslie had determined to show me that he 
 was neither annoyed nor offended at my inquisitiveness, his man 
 ner changed. He grew ceremonious. For the remainder of that 
 day, I felt uncomfortable, I scarce knew why ; and I silently de 
 termined that if my friend continued so exceediugly well-bred in 
 his manner for another day, I should find an excuse for leaving 
 him at Bologna. 
 
 But we had -left Bologna, and, at sunset of a warm day, wo 
 were slowly toiling up the Appenines. The inn to which we were 
 bound was in sight, a mile or two abore us, and, as the vetturino 
 stopped to breathe his horses, Elmslie jumped from the carriage 
 and started to walk on. I took advantage of his absence to 
 stretch myself over the vacated cushions, and, on our arrival at 
 the inn, was soundly asleep. 
 
 My friend's voice, in an unusual tone, awoke me ; and, by his 
 face, as he looked in at the carriage window, I saw that he was un 
 der gome extraordinary excitement. This I observed by the light 
 of the stable-lantern for the hostelry, Italian fashion, occupied 
 the lower story of the inn, and our carriage was driven under the 
 archway, where the faint light from without made but little impres 
 sion on the darkness. I followed Elmslie's beckoning finger, and 
 climbing after him up the stairway of stone, stood in a large re 
 fectory occupying the whole of the second story of the building. 
 
 At the first glance I saw that there was an English party iu 
 the house. An Italian inn of the lower order has no provision 
 for private parties, and few, except English travellers, object to 
 joining the common evening meal. The hall was dark with the 
 twilight, but a large curtain was suspended across the farther ex 
 tremity, and, by the glimmer of lights, and an occasional sound 
 of a knife, a party was within supping in silence.
 
 MY ONE ADVENTURE AS A BRIGAND. 297 
 
 
 
 "If you speak, speak in Italian," whispered 'Elmslie, taking 
 me by the arm, and leading me on tiptoe to one of the corners 
 of the curtain. 
 
 I looked in and saw two persons seated at a table a bold and 
 soldierly-looking man of fifty, and a young lady, evidently his 
 daughter. The beauty of the last-mentioned person was so ex 
 traordinary that I nearly committed the indiscretion of an excla 
 mation in English. She was slight, but of full and well-rounded 
 proportions, and she sat and moved with an eminent grace and 
 ladylikeness altogether captivating. Though her face expressed 
 a settled sadness, it was of unworn and faultless youth and love 
 liness, and while her heavily- fringed eyes would have done, in 
 their expression, for a Niobe, Hebe's lips were not more ripe, nor 
 Juno's arched more proudly. She was a blonde, with eyes and 
 eyelashes darker than her hair a kind of beauty almost peculiar 
 to England. 
 
 The passing in of a tall footman, in a plain livery of gray, in 
 terrupted my ga"ze, and Elmslie drew me away by the arm, and 
 led me into the road in front of the locanda. The night had 
 now fallen, and we strolled up and down in the glimmer of the 
 starlight. My companion was evidently much disturbed, and we 
 made several turns after I had seen very plainly that he was 
 making up his mind to communicate to me the secret. 
 
 "I have a request to make of you," he said, at last; "a ser 
 vice to exact, rather, to which there were no hope that you would 
 listen for a moment if I did not first tell you a very singular story. 
 Have a little patience with me, and I will make it as brief as I can 
 the briefer, that I have no little pain in recalling it with the 
 
 distinctness of description." 
 13*
 
 298 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 I expressed uny interest in all that concerned my new friend, 
 and begged him to go on. 
 
 " Hardly siz years ago,' 1 said Elmslie, pressing my arm gently 
 in acknowledgment of my sympathy, " I left college and joined 
 my regiment, for the first time, in Scotland. By the way, I 
 
 should re-introduce myself to you as Viscount S , of the title 
 
 of which, then, I was in prospect. My story hinges -somewhat 
 upon the fact that, as an honorable captain, a nobleman in ex 
 pectancy, I was an object of some extraneous interest to the 
 ladies who did the flirting for the garrison. God forgive me for 
 speaking lightly on the subject ! 
 
 " A few evenings after my arrival, we had been dining rather 
 freely at mess, and the major announced to us that we were in 
 vited to take tea with a linen-draper, whose house was a popular 
 resort of the officers of the regiment. The man had three or 
 four daughters, who, as the phrase goes, ' gave you a great deal 
 for your money,' and, for romping and frolicking, they had good 
 looks and spirit enough. The youngest was really very pretty, 
 but the eldest, to whom I was exclusively presented by the major, 
 as a sort of quiz on a new-comer, was a sharp and sneering old 
 maid, red-headed, freckled, and somewhat lame. Not to be out 
 done in frolic by my persecutor, I commenced making love to Miss 
 Jacky in mock heroics, and we were soon marching up and down 
 the room, to .the infinite entertainment of my brother-officers, 
 lavishing on each other every possible term of endearment. 
 
 " In the midst of this the major came up to me with rather a 
 serious face. 
 
 " ' Whatever you do,' said he, ' for God's sake don't call the old 
 girl your wife. The joke might be serious.' 
 
 " It was quite enough that I was desired not to do anything in
 
 MY ONE ADVENTURE AS A BRIGAND. 299 
 
 the reign of misrule then prevailing. I immediately assumed a 
 connubial air, to the best of my dramatic ability, begged Miss 
 Jacky to join me in the frolic, and made the rounds of the room, 
 introducing the old girl as Mrs. Elmslie, and receiving from her 
 quite as many tendernesses as were bearable by myself or the 
 company present. I observed that the lynx-eyed linen-draper 
 watched this piece of fun very closely, and my friend, the major, 
 seemed distressed and grave about it. But we carried it out till 
 the party broke up, and the next day the regiment was ordered 
 over to Ireland, and I thought no more, for a while, either of Miss 
 Jacky or my own absurdity. 
 
 " Two years afterwards, I was, at a drawing-room, at St. 
 James's, presented, for the first time, by the name which I bear. 
 It was not a very agreeable event to me, as our family fortunes 
 were inadequate to the proper support of the title, and on the 
 generosity of a maternal uncle, who had been at mortal variance 
 with my father, depended our hopes of restoration to prosperity. 
 From the mood of bitter melancholy in which I had gone through 
 the ceremony of an introduction, I was aroused by the murmur in 
 the crowd at the approach of a young girl just presented to the 
 king. She wa.s following a lady whom I slightly knew, and had 
 evidently been presented by her ; and, before I had begun to re 
 cover from my astonishment at her beauty, I was requested by 
 this lady to give her protege an arm, and follow to a less crowded 
 apartment of the palace. 
 
 " Ah, my friend ! the exquisite beauty of Lady Melicent but 
 you have seen her. She is here, and I must fold her in my arms 
 to-night, or perish in the attempt. 
 
 " Pardon me !" k^ added, as I was about to interrupt him with 
 an explanation. " She has been she is my wife ! She loved
 
 300 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 me and married me, making life a heaven of constant ecstacy 
 for I worshipped her with every fibre of my existence." 
 
 He paused and gave me his story brokenly, and I waited for 
 him to go on without questioning. 
 
 " We had lived together in absolute and unclouded happiness 
 for eight months, in lover-like seclusion, at her father's house, 
 and I was looking forward to the birth of my child with anxiety 
 and transport, when the death of my uncle left me heir to his 
 immense fortune, and I parted from my greater treasure to go 
 and pay the fitting respect at his burial. 
 
 " I returned, after a week's absence, with an impatience and 
 ardor almost intolerable, and found the door closed against me. 
 
 " There were two letters for me at the porter's lodge one 
 
 from Lord A , my wife's father, informing me that the Lady 
 
 Melicent had miscarried and was dangerously ill, and enjoining 
 upon me as a man of honor and delicacy never to attempt to see her 
 again ; and another from Scotland, claiming a fitting support for my 
 lawful wife, the daughter of the linen-draper. The proofs of th e 
 marriage, duly sworn to and certified by the witnesses of my fatal 
 frolic, were enclosed, and on my recovery, six weeks after, from 
 the delirium into which these multiplied horrors precipitated me, 
 I found that, by the Scotch law, the first marriage was valid, and 
 my ruin was irrevocable.'' 
 
 " And how long since was this ?" I inquired, breaking in upon 
 his narration for the first time. 
 
 " A year and a month and till to-night I have not seen her. 
 But I must break through this dreadful separation now and I 
 must speak to her, and press her to my breast and you will aid 
 me?" 
 
 " To the last drop of my blood assuredly. But how ?"
 
 MY ONE ADVENTURE AS A BRIGAND. 3Q1 
 
 *' Come to the inn ! You have not supped, and we will de- 
 viso as you eat. And you must lend me your invention, for my 
 heart and brain seem to be going wild." 
 
 Two hours after, with a pair of loaded pistols in my breast, we 
 went to the chamber of the host, and bound him and his wife to 
 the posts of their bed. There was but one man about the 
 
 house, the hostler, and we had made him intoxicated with our 
 
 
 
 travelling flask of brandy. Lord A and his daughter were 
 
 still sitting up, and she, at her chamber window, was watching 
 the just risen moon, over which the clouds were drifting very 
 rapidly. Our business was, now, only with them, as, in their foot 
 man, my companion had found an attached creature, who remem 
 bered him, and willingly agreed to offer no interruption. 
 
 After taking a pull at the brandy-flask myself (for, in spite of 
 my blackened face and the slouched hat of the hostler, I required 
 some fortification of the muscles of my face before doing violence 
 to an English nobleman), I opened the door of the chamber which 
 must be passed to gain access to that of Lady Melicent. It was 
 Lord A 's sleeping-room, and, though the li^ht was ex 
 tinguished, I could see that he was still up, and sitting at the 
 window. Turning my lantern inward, I entered the room and 
 set it down, and, to my relief, Lord A soliloquized in Eng 
 lish, that it was the host with a hint that it was time to go to 
 bed. My friend was at the door, according to my arrangement, 
 ready to assist me should I find any difficulty ; but, from the 
 dread of premature discovery of the person, he was to let me 
 manage it alone if possible. 
 
 Lord A sat unsuspectingly in the chair, with his head 
 
 turned half way over his shoulders to see why the officious host 
 did not depart. I sprung suddenly upon him, drew him back-
 
 302 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ward and threw him on his face, and with my hand over his 
 mouth, threatened him with death, in my choicest Italian, if he 
 did not remain passive till his portmanteau had been looked into. 
 I thought he might submit, with the idea that it was only a rob 
 bery, and so it proved. He allowed me, after a short struggle, 
 to tie his hands behind him, and march him down to his carriage, 
 
 before the muzzle of my pistol. The hostelry was still as death, 
 
 
 and shutting his carriage door upon his lordship, I mounted 
 
 guard. 
 
 The night seemed to me very long, but morning dawned, and, 
 with the earliest gray, the postillions came knocking at the outer 
 door of the locanda. My friend went out to them, while 1 marched 
 
 back Lord A to his chamber, and, by immense bribing, the 
 
 horses were all put to our carriage a half hour after, and the out-' 
 raged nobleman was left without the means of pursuit till their 
 return. We reached Florence in safety, and pushed on imme 
 diately to Leghorn, where we took the steamer for Marseilles and 
 eluded arrest, very much to my most agreeable surprise. 
 
 By a Providence that does not always indulge mortals with 
 
 removing those they wish into another world, Lord S has 
 
 lately been freed from his harrowing chain by the death of his 
 so-called lady; and, having re-married Lady Melicent, their hap 
 piness is renewed and perfect. In his letter to me, announcing 
 it, he gives me liberty to tell the story, as the secret was divul : vl 
 
 to Lord A on the day of his second nuptials. He said 
 
 nothing, however, of his lordship's forgiveness for my rude hand 
 ling of his person, and, in ceasing to be considered a brigand, 
 possibly I am responsible as a gentleman.
 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY, 
 
 " L'Esprit est un faux monnayeur, qui change continuellement les gros sous 
 en louis d'or, et qui souvent fait de ses louis d'or des gros sous." 
 
 THERE were five hundred guardian angels (and of course as 
 many evil spirits), in and about the merry premises of Congress 
 Hall. Each gay guest had his pair ; but though each pair had 
 their special ministry (and there were here and there a guest who 
 would not have objected to transform his, for the time being, into 
 a pair of trotting ponies), the attention of the cherubic troop, it 
 may fairly be presumed, was directed mainly to the momentous 
 flirtations of Miss C. Sophy Onthank, the dread disposer of the 
 destinies of eighty thousand innocent little dollars. 
 
 Miss Chittaline Sophy (though this is blabbing, for that mys 
 terious " C.'' was generally condemned to travel in domino) Miss 
 Chittaline Sophy, besides her good and evil spirit already referred 
 to, was under the additional watch and ward of a pair of bomba 
 zine aunts, Miss Charity Onthank and Miss Sophy the same, of 
 which she was the united namesake. " Chittaline" being the 
 embellished diminutive of " Charity." These Hesperian dragons 
 of old maids were cut after the common pattern of such* utensils, 
 and of course would not dignify a description ; though this dis 
 paraging remark (we must stop long enough to say) is not at all
 
 304 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 to the prejudice of that occasional lovc-of-an-old-maid that one 
 does sometimes see that four-leaved clover of virginity that 
 star apart in the spilled milk of the Via Lactea : 
 
 "For now and then you find one who could rally 
 
 At forty, and go back to twenty-three 
 A handsome, plump, affectionate ' Aunt Sally,' 
 With no rage for cats, flannel, and Bohea." 
 
 But the two elderly Misses Onthank were not of this category. 
 
 By 'the absence of that Junonic assurance, common to those 
 ladies who are born and bred heiresses, Miss C. Sophy's auto 
 graph had not long been an object of interest at the bank. She 
 had all the air of having been u brought up at the trough," as 
 the French phrase it, 
 
 " Round as a cipher, simple as good day," 
 
 and her belle-ship was still a surprise to her. Like the red-haired 
 and freckled who find, when they get to Italy, that their flaming 
 peculiarities are considered as captivating signs of a skin too deli 
 cate for exposure, she received with a. slight incredulity the hom 
 age to her unseen charms homage not the less welcome for ex 
 acting from the giver an exercise of faith and imagination. The 
 same faith and imagination, she was free to suppose, might find a 
 Venus within her girdle, as the sculptor sees one in the goodly 
 block of marble, lacking only the removal of its clumsy covering 
 by chisel and sand-paper. With no visible waist, she was as tall 
 as a pump, and riotously rosy like a flowering rhododendron. Hair 
 brown and plenty of it. Teeth white and all at home.' And her 
 voice, with but one semitone higher, would have been an approved 
 contralto. 
 
 Having thus compressed into a couple of paragraphs what
 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY. 305 
 
 would have served a novelist for his first ten chapters, permit us, 
 without the bother of intermediate mortar or moralizing (though 
 this is rather a mixed figure), to lay on the next brick in the shape 
 of a- hint at the character of Miss Onthank's two prominent 
 admirers. 
 
 Mr. Greville Seville was a New York beau. He had all the 
 refinement that could possibly be imported. He had seen those 
 who had seen all that is visible in the fashionable man of Lon 
 don and Paris, and he was well versed in the conduits through 
 which their several peculiarities found their way across the 
 Atlantic. Faultlessly booted, pantalooned, waistcoated, and 
 shirted, he could afford to trust his coat and scarf to Providence, 
 and his hat to Warnock or Leary. He wore a slightly restrained 
 whisker, and a faint smut of an imperial, and his gloves fitted 
 him inexorably. His figure was a matter of course. He was 
 brought up in New York, and was one of the four hundred thou 
 sand results (more or less) of its drastic waters washy and short. 
 And he had as good a heart as is compatible with the above 
 personal advantages. 
 
 It would very much have surprised the " company" at Con 
 gress Hall to have seen Mr. Chesterfield Potts put down as No. 2, 
 in the emulous contest for the two hands of Miss Onthank. The 
 count (he was commonly called " Count Potts," a compliment to 
 good manners not unusual in America), was, by his own label, a 
 man of " thirty and upward" by the parish register possibly 
 sixty-two. He was an upright, well preserved, stylish-looking 
 man, with an expensive wig, fine teeth (commonly supposed not 
 to be indigenous), and a lavish outlay of cotton batting, covering 
 the retreat of such of his muscular forces as were inclined to re 
 tire from the field. What his native qualities might be was a
 
 306 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 branch of knowledge long since lost to the world. His politeness** 
 had superseded the necessity of any particular inquiry into the 
 matter ; indeed, we are inclined to believe his politeness had su 
 perseded his character altogether. He was as incapable of the 
 impolite virtues (of which there are several) as of the impolite vices. 
 Like cricketing, punning, political speech-making, and other me 
 chanical arts, complimenting may be brought to a high degree of 
 dexterity, and Count Potts, after a practice of many years, could, 
 over most kinds of female platitude, spread a flattering unction 
 humbugative to the most suspicious incredulity. As he told no 
 stories, made no puns, volunteered but little conversation, and 
 had the air of a modest man wishing to avoid notice, the 
 blockheads and the very young girls stoutly denied his fascination. 
 But in the memory of riper belles, as they went to sleep night 
 after night, lay snugly lodged and carefully treasured, some timely 
 compliment, some soothing word, and though credited to " old 
 Potts," the smile with which it was gracefully re-acknowledged the 
 next morning at breakfast, would have been warm enough for 
 young Ascanius. " Nice old Potts !" was the faint murmur of 
 many a bright lip turning downward to the pillow in the " last 
 position." 
 
 And now, dear reader, you have an idea of the forces in the 
 field, and you probably know how " the war is carried on'' at Sa 
 ratoga. Two aunts and a guardian angel versus an evil spirit and 
 two lovers Miss Onthank's hand, the (well-covered) bone of 
 contention. Whether the citadel would speedily yield, and which 
 of these two rival knights would bear away the palm of victory, 
 were questions upon which the majority of lookers-on were doomed 
 to make erroneous predictions. The reader, of course, is in the 
 sagacious minority.
 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY. 30f 
 
 Mr. Potts' income was a net answer to his morning prayer. It 
 provided his " daily bread 1 ' but no provender for a horse. He 
 probably coveted Miss Onthank as much for her accompanying 
 oats as for her personal avoirdupois, since the only complaint with 
 which he ever troubled his acquaintances, was one touching his 
 inability to keep an equipage. Man is instinctively a centaur, he 
 used to say, and when you cut him off from his horse and reduce 
 him to his simple trunk (and a trunk was all the count's worldly 
 furniture), he is but a mutilated remainder, robbed of his natural 
 locomotive. 
 
 It was not authenticated in Wall-street that Mr. Greville Se 
 ville was reasonably entitled to horse-flesh and caparison ; but ho 
 had a trotting wagon and two delicious cropped sorrels ; and those 
 who drove in his company were obliged to down with the dust" (a 
 bon mot of Count Potts'). Science explains many of the enigmas 
 of common life, however, and the secret of Mr. Seville's equip 
 ment and other means of going on swimmingly, lay in his unusu 
 ally large organ of hope. He was simply anticipating the arrival 
 of 1840, a year in which he had reason to believe that there 
 would be paid in to the credit of the present Miss Onthank, a 
 sufficient sum to cover his loosest expenditure. The intermedi 
 ate transfer to himself of her rights to the same, was a mere fill 
 ing up of an outline, his mind being entirely made up as to the 
 conditional incumbrance of the lady's person. He was now pay 
 ing her some attentions in advance, and he felt justified in charg 
 ing his expenses on the estate. She herself would wish it, doubt 
 less, if she could look into the future with his eyes. 
 
 By all the common data of matrimonial skirmishing, a lover 
 with horses easily outstrips a lover with none. Miss C. Sophy, 
 besides, was particularly fond of driving, and Seville was an ac-
 
 308 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 complished whip. There was no lack of the " golden opportu 
 nity" of t6te a tete, for, with a deaf aunt and somebody else on 
 the back seat, he had Miss Onthank to himself on the driving 
 box, and could talk to his horses in the embarrassing pauses. It 
 looked a clear case to most observers ; and as to Seville, he had 
 studied out a livery for his future footman and tiger, and would 
 not have taken an insurance at a quarter per cent. 
 
 But Potts ah ! Potts had traced back the wires of woman's 
 weaknesses. The heiress had no conversation (why should she 
 have it and money too ?), and the part of her daily drive which 
 she remembered with most pleasure, was the flourish of starting 
 and returning managed by Potts with a pomp and circumstance 
 that would Ijave done honor to the goings and comings of Queen 
 Victoria. Once away from the portico, it was a monotonous drag 
 through the dust for two or three hours, and as most ladies know, 
 it takes a great deal of chit-chat to butter so large a slice of time ; 
 for there was no making love, parbleu:' Miss Chittaline Onthank 
 was of a stratum of human nature susceptible of no sentiment 
 less substantial than a kiss, and when the news, and the weather, 
 and the virtues of the sorrel ponies, were exhausted, the talk 
 came to a stand-still. The heiress began to remember with alarm 
 that her education had been neglected, and that it was a relief 
 to get back to old Potts and the portico. 
 
 Fresh from his nap and warm bath, the perfumed count step 
 ped out from the group he had purposely collected, gave her his 
 hand with a deferential inquiry, spread the loungers to the right 
 and left like an " usher of the black rod," and with some well- 
 studied impromptu compliment, waited on her to her chamber 
 door. He received her again after her toilet, and for the remain 
 der of the day devoted his utmost powers to her aggrandizement.
 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY. 309 
 
 If talking alone with her, it was to provoke her to some passage 
 of school-girl autobiography, and listen like a charmed stone to 
 the harp of Orpheus. If others were near, it was to catch her 
 stupidities half uttered and twist them into sense before they 
 came to the ground. His own clevernesses were prefaced with 
 u As you remarked yesterday, Miss Onthank," or, " As you were 
 about to say when I interrupted you." If he touched her foot, it 
 was " so small he didn't see it." If she uttered an irredeemable 
 and immitigable absurdity, he covered its retreat with some sud 
 den exclamation. He called her pensive, when she was sleepy 
 and vacant. He called her romantic, when he couldn't under 
 stand her. In short, her vanity was embodied turned into a 
 magician and slave and in the shape of Count Chesterfield Potts 
 ministered to her indefatigably. 
 
 But the summer solstice began to wane. A week more was 
 all that was allotted to Saratoga by that great American com 
 mander, General Consent. 
 
 Count Potts came to breakfast, in a shawl cravat ! 
 
 " Off, Potts ?" 
 
 " Are you flitting, my dear count ?" 
 
 " What going away, dear Mr. Potts ?" 
 
 " Gracious me ! don't go, Mr. Potts !" 
 
 The last exclamation was sent across the table in a tone of 
 alarm by Miss C. Sophy, and responded to only by a bow of obse 
 quious melancholy. 
 
 Breakfast was over, and Potts arose. His baggage was at the 
 door. He sought no interview with Miss Onthank. He did not 
 even honor the two bombazinities with a farewell. He stepped 
 up to the group of belles, airing their demi- toilets on the portico, 
 said " Ladies ! au revoir !" took the heiress's hand and put it
 
 310 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 gallantly toward his lips, and walked off with his umbrella, 
 requesting the driver to pick him up at the spring. 
 " He has been refused !" said one. 
 
 " He has given Seville a clear field in despair !" said another. 
 And this was the general opinion. 
 
 The day crept on. But there -was an emptiness without Potts. 
 Seville had the field to himself, and as there was no fear of a new 
 squatter, he thought he might dispense with tillage. They had a 
 very dull drive and a very dull dinner, and in the evening, as 
 there was no ball, Seville went off to play billiards. Miss Ou- 
 thank was surrounded, as usual, by the belles and beaux, but she 
 was down flat unmagnetized, ungalvanized. The magician was 
 gone. Her stupid things "stayed put." She was like a glass 
 bead lost from a kaleidoscope. 
 
 That weary week was spent in lamentations over Potts. Eve 
 rybody praised him. Everybody complimented Miss Onthank on 
 her exclusive power of monopoly over such porcelain ware. The 
 two aunts were his main glorifiers ; for, as Potts knew, tin y 
 were of that leathery toughness that only shines on you with 
 rough usage. 
 
 We have said little, as yet, of Miss Outhank's capabilities in 
 the love line. We doubt, indeed, whether she rightly understood 
 the difference between loving and being born again. As to giving 
 away her heart, she believed she could do what her mother did 
 before her, but she would rather it would be one of her back 
 teeth, if that would do as well. She liked Mr. Potts because he 
 never made any difficulty about such things. 
 
 Seville considered himself accepted, though he had made no 
 direct proposition. He had asked- whether she preferred to live 
 in country or town she said " town." He had asked if she
 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY. 31 1 
 
 would leave the choice and management of horses and equipages 
 to him she said " be sure !" He had asked if she had any 
 objection to his giving bachelor dinners occasionally she said 
 " la ! no !" As he understood it, the whole thing was most com 
 fortably arranged, and he lent money to several of his friends on 
 the strength of it giving his note, this is to say. 
 
 On a certain morning, some ten days after the departure of tha 
 count from Saratoga, Miss Onthank and her two aunts sat up in 
 state in their parlor at the City Hotel. They always went to the 
 City Hotel because Willard remembered their names, and asked 
 after their uncle the Major. Mr. Seville's ponies and wagon 
 were at the door, and Mr. Seville's father, mother, seven sisters, 
 and two small brothers, were in the progress of a betrothal visit 
 calling on the future Mrs. Greville Seville. 
 
 All of a sudden the door was thrown open, and enter Count 
 Potts ! 
 
 Up jumped the enchanted Chittaline Sophy. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Potts ?" 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Potts !" said the aunts in a breath. 
 
 " D'ye-do, Potts !" said Seville, giving him his fore-finger, 
 with the air of a man rising from winning at cards. 
 
 Potts made his compliments all round. He was about sailing 
 for Carolina, he said, and had come to ask permission of Miss 
 Onthank to leave her sweet society for a few years of exile. But 
 as this was the last of his days of pleasure, at least till he saw 
 Miss Onthank again, he wished to be graced with the honor of 
 her arm for a promenade in Broadway. The ladies and Mr. Se 
 ville doubtless would excuse her if she put on her bonnet without 
 further ceremony. 
 
 Now Potts's politenesses had such an air of irresistible authority
 
 312 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 that people fell into their track like cars after a locomotive. 
 While Miss Onthank was bonneting and shawling, the count en 
 tertained the entire party most gayly, though the Sevilles 
 thought it rather unceremonious in the affianced miss to leave 
 them in the midst of a first visit, and Mr. Greville Seville had 
 arranged to send his mother home on foot, and drive Miss Onthank 
 out to Harlem. 
 
 u I'll keep my horses here till you come back !" he shouted 
 after them, as she tripped gayly down stairs on the count's arm. 
 
 And so he did. Though it was two hours before she appeared 
 again, the impatient youth kept the old aunts company, and would 
 have stayed till night, sorrels and all for in that drive he meant 
 to " name the day," and put his creditors at ease. 
 
 " I wouldn't even go up stairs, my dear !" said the count, 
 handing her to the wagon, and sending up the groom for his mas 
 ter, "it's but an hour to dine, and you'll like the air after your 
 fatigue. Ah, Seville, I've brought her back ! Take good care 
 of her for my sake, my good fellow !" 
 
 " What the devil has his sake to do with it, I wonder ?" said 
 Seville, letting his horses off like two rockets in harness. 
 
 And away they went toward Harlem ; and in about an hour, 
 very much to the surprise of the old aunts, who were looking out 
 of the parlor window, the young lady dismounted from an omni 
 bus ! Count Potts had come to dine with them, and he tripped 
 down to meet her with uncommon agility. 
 
 " Why, do you know, aunties !" she exclaimed, as she came up 
 stairs out of breath, " do you know that Mr. Seville, when I told 
 him I was married already to Mr. Potts, stopped his wagon, and 
 p-p-put me into an omnibus '." 
 
 " Married to Mr. Potts !" screamed Aunt Charity.
 
 COUNT POTT'S STRATEGY. 313 
 
 " Married to Mr. Potts !" screamed Aunt Sophy. 
 
 Why yes, aunties ; he said he must go south, if I didn't !" 
 drawled out the bride, with only a very little blush indeed. " Tell 
 aunties all about it, Mr. Potts !" 
 
 And Mr. Potts, with the same smile of infallible propriety, 
 which seemed a warrant for everything he said or did, gave a very 
 sketchy account of his morning's work, which, like all he under 
 took, had been exceedingly well done properly witnessed, certi 
 fied, &c., &c., &c. All of which shows the very sound policy of 
 first making yourself indispensable to people you wish to manage. 
 Or. put it receipt-wise : 
 
 To marry a fiat : First, raise her up till she is giddy. Se 
 cond, go away, and let her down. Third, come back, and offer 
 to support her, if she will give you her hand. 
 
 " Simple, comme bonjour !" as Balsac says.
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK," 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I HAD a sort of candle-light acquaintance with Mr. Philip 
 McRueit when we were in college. I mean to say that I had a 
 daylight repugnance to him, and never walked with him or talked 
 with him, or rode with him, or sat with him ; and, indeed, seldom 
 saw him except as one of a club oyster-party of six. He was a 
 short, sharp, satirical man (nicknamed " my cruet^ by his cronies 
 rather descriptively !) but as plausible and vindictive as 
 Mephistopheles before and after the ruin of a soul. In some 
 other state of existence I had probably known and suffered by 
 Phil. McRueit for I knew him like the sleeve of an old coat, 
 the first day I laid eyes on him ; though other people seemed to 
 have no such instinct. Oh, we were not new acquaintances 
 from whatever star he had been transported, for his sins, to thia 
 plkuet of dirt. I think he was of the same opinion, himself. He 
 chose between open warfare and conciliation in the first five min 
 utes after seeing me as a stranger chose the latter. 
 
 Six or seven years after leaving college, I was following my 
 candle up to bed rather musingly, one night at the Astor, and 
 on turning a corner, I was obliged to walk round a short gen-
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK." 315 
 
 tleman who stood at the head of the stairs in an attitude of 
 fixed contemplation. As I weathered the top of his hat rather 
 closely, I caught the direction of his eye, and saw that he was 
 regarding, very fixedly, a pair of rather dusty kid slippers, which 
 had been set outside the door, probably for cleaning, by the occu 
 pant of the chamber opposite. As the gentleman did not move, 
 I turned on the half landing of the next flight of stairs, and 
 looked back, breaking in, by my sudden pause, upon his fit of 
 abstraction. It was McRueit, and on recognizing me, he imme 
 diately beckoned me to his side. 
 
 " Does it strike you,'' said he, " that there is anything pecu 
 liar in that pair of shoes ?" 
 
 " No except that they certify to two very small feet on the 
 other side of the door." 
 
 " Not merely ' small/ my dear fellow ! Do you see where the 
 pressure has been in those slender shoes, how straight the inside 
 line, how arched the instep, how confidingly flat the pressure down 
 ward of the little great toe ! It's a woman of sweet and relying char 
 acter who wore that shoe to-day, and I must know her. More, sir, 
 I must marry her ! Ah, you laugh but I will ! There's a mag 
 netism in that pair of shoes addressed to me only. Beg your 
 pardon good night I'll go town stairs and find out her number 
 ' 74 !' I'll be well acquainted with ' 74' by this time to-morrow !" 
 
 For the unconscious young lady asleep in that room, I lay awake 
 half the night, troubled with foreboding pity. I knew the man. 
 so well, I was so certain that ke would leave nothing possible un 
 done to carry out this whimsical purpose. I knew that from that 
 moment was levelled, point-blank, at the lady, whoever she might 
 be (if single) a battery of devilish and pertinacious ingenuity, 
 which would carry most any small fort of a heart, most any way
 
 316 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 barricaded and defended. He was well off, he was well-looking 
 enough ; he was deep and crafty. But if he did win her, she 
 was gone ! gone, I knew, from happiness, like a stone from a 
 sling. He was a tyrant subtle in his cruelties to all people de 
 pendent on him and her life would be one of refined torture, 
 neglect, betrayal and tears. 
 
 A "fit of intermittent disgust for strangers, to which all persons 
 living in hotels are more or less liable, confined my travels, for 
 some days after this rencontre, to the silence-and-slop thorough 
 fare of the back-stairs. " Coming to my feed" of society one 
 rainy morning, I went into the drawing-room after breakfast, and 
 was not surprised to see McRueit in a posture of absorbed atten 
 tion beside a lady. His stick stood on the floor, and with his left 
 cheek resting on the gold head, he was gazing into her face, and 
 evidently keeping her perfectly at her ease as to the wants and 
 gaps of conversation, as he knew how to do for he was the readiest 
 man with his brick and mortar whom I ever had encountered. 
 
 " Who is that lady ?" I asked of an omni-acquainted old bach 
 elor friend of mine. 
 
 " Miss Jonthee Twitt and what can be the secret of that 
 rather exclusive gentleman's attention to her, I cannot fancy." 
 
 J pulled a newspaper from my pocket, and seating myself in 
 one of the deep windows, commenced rather a compassionate 
 study of Miss Twitt intending fully, if I should find her interest 
 ing, to save her from the clutches of my detestable classmate. 
 
 She was a slight, hollow-chested, consumptive-looking girl, with 
 a cast of features that any casual observer would be certain to 
 describe as " interesting." With the first two minutes' gaze 
 upon her, my sympathies were active enough for a rniMMk 
 against a whole army of connubial tyrants. I suddenly paused,
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK." 
 
 however. Something McRueit said made a change in the lady's 
 countenance. She sat just as still ; she did not move her head 
 from its negligent posture ; her eyebrows did not contract ; her 
 lips did not stir ; but the dull, sickly-colored lids descended 
 calmly and fixedly till they hid from sight the upper edges of 
 the pupils ! and by this slight but infallible sign I knew but the 
 story will tell what I knew. Napoleon was nearly, but not quite 
 right, when he said that there was no reliance to be placed on 
 peculiarities of feature or expression. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 IN August of that same year, I followed the world to Sarato 
 ga. In my first reconnoitre of the drawing-room of Congress 
 Hall, I caught the eye of Mr. McRueit, and received from him 
 a cordial salutation. As I put my head right, upon its pivot, 
 after an easy nod to my familiar aversion, my eyes fell upon Miss 
 Jonthee Twitt that was for I had seen, in the newspapers of 
 two months before, tha.t the resolve (born of the dusty slipper 
 outside her door), had been brought about, and she was now on 
 the irrevocable side of a honeymoon sixty days old. 
 
 Her eyelid was down upon the pupil motionless, concentrated, 
 and vigilant as a couched panther and from beneath the hem 
 of her dress curved out the high arched instep of a foot pointed 
 with desperate tension to the carpet ; the little great toe (whose 
 reiving pressure on the soiled slipper Mr. McRueit had been 
 captivated by), now rigid with as strong a purpose as spiritual 
 homeopathy could concentrate in so small a tenement. I thought
 
 318 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 I would make Mr. and Mrs. McRueit the subject of quiet study 
 while I remained at Saratoga. 
 
 But I have not mentioned the immediate cause of Mrs. Mc- 
 Rueit's resentment. Her bridegroom was walking up and down 
 the room with a certain Mrs. Wanmaker, a widow, who was a 
 better woman than she looked to be, as I chanced to know, but 
 as nobody could know without the intimate acquaintance with 
 Mrs. Wanmaker upon which I base this remark. With beauty 
 of the most voluptuous cast, and a passion for admiration which 
 induced her to throw out every possible lure to men any way 
 worth her time as victims, Mrs. Wanmaker's blood was as " cold 
 as the flow of Iser," and her propriety, in fact, wholly impregna 
 ble. I had been myself " tried on" by the widow Wanmaker, 
 and twenty caravan-marches might have been made across the 
 Desert of Sahara, while the conviction I have just stated was 
 " getting through my hair." It was not wonderful, therefore, 
 that both the bride and her (usually) most penetrations bride 
 groom, had sailed over the widow's shallows, unconscious of 
 soundings. She was a " deep" woman, too but in the love 
 line. 
 
 I thought McRueit singularly off his gyard, if it were only for 
 " appearances." He monopolized the widow effectually, and she 
 thought it worth her while to let the world think him (a bride 
 groom and a rising young politician), mad for her, and, truth to 
 eay, they carried on the war strenuously. Perfectly certain as I 
 was that " the whirligig of time" would " bring about the 
 revenges" of Mrs. McRueit, I began to feel a meantime pity for 
 her, and had myself presented duly by McRueit the next morn 
 ing after breakfast. 
 
 It was a tepid, flaccid, revery-colored August morning, and the
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK." 319 
 
 sole thought of the universe seemed to be to sit down. The 
 devotees to gayety and mineral water dawdled out to the porti 
 coes, and some sat on chairs under the trees, and the dandies lay on, 
 the grass, and the old ladies on the steps and the settees, and here 
 and there, a man on the balustrade, and, in the large swing, vis 
 a-vis, sat McRueit and the widow Wanmaker, chattering in an 
 undertone quite inaudible. Mrs. McRueit sat on a bench, with 
 her back against one of the high-shouldered pine-trees in the 
 court-yard, and I had called McRueit out of his swing to present 
 me. But he returned immediately to the widow. 
 
 I thought it would be alleviative and good-natured to give Mrs. 
 McRueit an~ insight to the harmlessness of Mrs. Wanmaker, and 
 I had done so very nearly to my satisfaction, when I discovered 
 that the slighted wife did not care sixpence about the fact, and 
 that, unlike Hamlet, she only knew seems. The more I develop 
 ed the innocent object of the widow's outlay of smiles and confi 
 dentialities, the more Mrs. McRueit placed herself in a posture 
 to be remarked by the loungers in the court-yard-and the dawd 
 lers on the portico, and the more she deepened a certain look 
 you must imagine it for the present, dear reader. It would take 
 a razor's edge of analysis, and a Flemish paint-pot and patience 
 to carve that injured look into language, or paint it truthfully to 
 the eye ! Juries would hang husbands, and recording angels 
 " ruthlessly overcharge," upon the unsupported evidence of such 
 a look. She looked as if her heart must have suffocated with 
 forbearance long before she began to look so. She looked as if 
 she had forgiven and wept, and was ready to forgive and weep 
 again. She looked as if she would give her life if she could 
 conceal " her feelings," and as if she was nerving soul, and 
 heart, and eyelids, and lachrymatory glands all to agony to
 
 320 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 prevent bursting into tears with her unutterable anguish ! It 
 was the most unresisting, unresentful, patient, sweet miserable- 
 ness ! A lamb's willingness to " furnish forth another meal" of 
 chops and sweetbread, was testy to such meek endurance ! She 
 was evidently a martyr, a victim, a crushed flower, a " poor 
 thing !" But she did, now and then unseen by anybody but 
 me give a glance from that truncated orb of a pupil of hers, 
 over the top of her handkerchief, that, if incarnated, would have 
 made a hole in the hide of a rhinoceros ! It was triumph, 
 venom, implacability such as I had never before seen expressed 
 in human glances. 
 
 There are many persons with but one idea, and that a good 
 one. Mrs. McRueit, I presume, was incapable of appreciating 
 my interest in her. At any rate she played the same game with 
 me as with other people, and managed her affairs altogether with 
 perfect unity. It was in vain that I endeavored to hear from her 
 tongue what I read in the lowering pupil of her eye. She spoke 
 of McRueit with evident reluctance, but always with discretion 
 never blaming him, nor leaving any opening that should betray 
 resentment, or turn the current of sympathy from herself. The 
 result was immediate. The women in the house began to look 
 black upon McRueit. The men " sent him to Coventry" more 
 unwillingly, for he was amusing and popular but " to Coventry" 
 he went ! And at last the widow Wanmaker became aware that 
 she was wasting her time on a man whose attentions were not 
 wanted elsewhere and she (the unkindest cut of all) found rea 
 sons for looking another way when he approached her. He had 
 became aware, during this process, what was " in the wind," but 
 he knew too much to stay in the public eye when it was inflamed. 
 With his brows lowering, and his face gloomy with feelings I
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK." 321 
 
 could easily interpret, he took the early coach on the third morn 
 ing after my introduction to Mrs. McRueit, and departed, proba 
 bly for a discipline trip, to some place where sympathy with his 
 wife would be less dangerous. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I THINK, that within the next two or three years, I heard 
 McRueit's name mentioned several times, or saw it in the papers, 
 connected with strong political movements. I had no very defi 
 nite idea of where he was residing, however. Business called 
 me to a western county, and on the road I fell into the company 
 of a great political schemer and partisan one of those joints (of 
 the feline political body), the next remove from the " cat's 
 paw." Finding that I cared not a straw for politics, and that we 
 were going to the same town, he undertook the blandishment of 
 an overflow of confidence upon me, probably with the remoto 
 possibility that he might have occasion to use me. I gave in to 
 it so far as courteously to receive all his secrets, and we arrived 
 at our destination .excellent friends. 
 
 The town was in a ferment with the coming election of a mem 
 ber for the legislature, and the hotel being very crowded, Mr. 
 Develin (my fellow-traveller) and myself were put into a double- 
 bedded room. Busy with my own affairs, I saw but little of him, 
 and he seemed quite too much occupied for conversation, till the 
 third night after our arrival. Lying in bed with the moonlight 
 streaming into the room, he began to give me some account of 
 the campaign preparing for around us, and presently mentioned 
 14*
 
 322 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 the name of McRueit (the name, by the way, that I had seen 
 upon the placards, without caring particularly to inquire whether 
 or not it was u mine ancient" aversion). 
 
 " They are not aware," said Mr. Develin, after talking on the 
 subject awhile, " that this petty election, is, in fact, the grain of 
 sand that is to turn the presidential scale. If McRueit should be 
 elected (as I am sorry to say there seems every chance he will 
 be), Van Buren's doom is sealed. I have come a little too late 
 here. I should have had time to know something more of this 
 man McRueit " 
 
 " Perhaps I can give you some idea of him," interrupted I, 
 " for he has chanced to be more in my way than I would have 
 bargained for. But what do you wish to know particularly ?" 
 (I spoke, as the reader will see, in the unsuspecting innocence 
 of my heart). 
 
 " Oh anything anything ! Tell me all you know of him !" 
 
 Mr. Develin's vividness rather surprised me, for he raised 
 himself on his elbow in bed but I went on and ' narrated very 
 much what I have put down for the reader in the two preceding 
 chapters. 
 
 " How do you spell Mrs. Wanmaker's name r" asked my im 
 bedded vis-a-vis, as I stopped and turned over to go to sleep. 
 
 I spelt it for him. 
 
 He jumped out of bed, dressed himself and left the room. 
 Will the reader permit me to follow him, like Asmodeus, giving 
 with Asmodean brevity the knowledge I afterward gained of his 
 use of my involuntary revelation ? 
 
 Mr. Develin roused the active member of the Van Buren com- 
 niittco from his slumber, and in an hour had the printers of their 
 party paper at work upon a placard. A large meeting was to be
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK." 333 
 
 held the next day in the town-hall, during which both candidates, 
 it was supposed, would address the people. Ladies were to oc 
 cupy the galleries. The hour came round. Mrs. McRueit's 
 carriage drove into the village a few minutes before eleven, and 
 as she stopped at a shop for a moment, a letter was handed her 
 by a boy. She sat still and read it. She was alone. Her face 
 turned livid with paleness after its first flush, and forgetting her 
 errand at the shop, she drove on to the town-hall. She took her 
 Beat in a prominent part of the gallery. The preliminaries were 
 gone through with, and her husband rose to speak. He was a 
 plausible orator, an eloquent man. But there was a sentiment 
 circulating in the audience something whispered from man to 
 man that strangely took off the attention of the audience. He 
 could not, as he had never before found difficulty in doing, keep 
 their eyes upon his lips. Every one was gazing on his wife I 
 And there she sat with her INJURED LOOK ! pale, sad, appar 
 ently striving to listen and conceal hej- mental suffering. It was 
 as convincing to the audience of the truth of the insinuation that 
 was passing from mouth to mouth as convincing as would have 
 been a revelation from Heaven. McRueit followed the many up 
 turned eyes at last, and saw that they were bent on his wife, and 
 that once more after years of conciliation, she wore THAT 
 INJURED LOOK ! His heart failed him. He evidently compre 
 hended that the spirit tnat had driven him from Saratoga, years 
 before popular sympathy with women had overtaken him and 
 was plotting against him once more. His speech began to lose 
 its concentration. He talked wide. The increasing noise over 
 powered him, and he descended at last from the platform in the 
 midst of a universal hiss. The other candidate rose and spoke ; 
 and at the close of his speech the meeting broke up, and as they
 
 324 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 dispersed, their eyes were met at every corner with a large pla 
 card, in which " injured wife," " unfaithful husband," u widow 
 W n k r," were the words in prominent capitals. The 
 election came on the next day, and Mr. McRueit being signally 
 defeated, Mr. Van Buren's election to the Presidency (if Mr. 
 Develin knew anything) was made certain brought about by a 
 woman's INJURED LOOK. 
 
 My business in the county was the purchase of land, and for a 
 year or two afterward, I was a great deal there. Feeling that I 
 had unintentionally furnished a weapon to his enemies, I did pen 
 ance by cultivating McRueit. I went often to his house. He 
 was at first a good deal broken up by the sudden check to his 
 ambition, but he rallied with a change in his character for which 
 I was not prepared. He gave up all antagonism toward his wife. 
 He assumed a new manner to her. She had been skilfully man 
 aged before but he took her now confidingly behind his shield. 
 He felt overmastered by the key she had to popular sympathy, 
 and he determined wisely to make it turn in his favor. By assi 
 duity, by tenderness, childlikeness, he succeeded in completely 
 convincing her that he had but one out-of-doors wish that of 
 embellishing her existence by his success. The effort on her was 
 marvellous. She recovered her health, gradually changed to a 
 joyous and earnest promoter of her husband's interests, and they 
 were soon a marked model in the county for conjugal devotion. 
 The popular impression soon gained ground that Mr. McRueit 
 had been shamefully wronged by the previous prejudice against 
 his character as a husband. The tide that had already turned, 
 goon swelled to a flood, and Mr. McRueit now but Mr. Mc 
 Rueit is too powerful a person in the present government to fol-
 
 THE POWER OF AN "INJURED LOOK." 325 
 
 low any farther. Suffice it to say that he might return to Mrs. 
 Wanmaker and his old courses if he liked for his wife's 
 INJURED LOOK is entirely fattened out of possibility by her happi 
 ness. She weighs two hundred, and could no more look injured 
 than Sir John Falstaff.
 
 MRS, FLIMSON. 
 
 FEW women had more gifts than Mrs. Flimson. She was born 
 of clever parents, and was lady-like and good-looking. Her edu 
 cation was that of a female Crichton, careful and universal ; and 
 while she had more than a smattering of most languages and sci 
 ences, she was up to any flight of fashion, and down to every 
 secret of notable housewifery. She piqued herself, indeed, most 
 upon her plain accomplishments (thinking, perhaps, that her 
 more uncommon ones would speak for themselves) ; and it was a 
 greater triumph, to her apprehension, that she could direct the 
 country butcher to the sweet-bread in slaughtering his veal, aud 
 show a country-girl how to send it to table with the proper com 
 plexion of a riz de veau, than that she could entertain any man 
 ner of foreigner in his own language, and see order in the stars 
 and diamonds in back-logs. Like most female prodigies, whose 
 friends expect them to be matched as well as praised, Mrs. Flimson 
 lost the pick of the market, nd married a man very much her 
 inferior. The pis aller, Mr. Flimson, was a person of excellent 
 family (after the fashion of a hill of potatoes the best part of it 
 under ground), and possessed of a moderate income. Near the 
 meridian sun of a metropolis, so small a star would of course be
 
 MRS. FLIMSON. 32f 
 
 extinguished ; and as it was necessary to* Mrs. Flimson's exist 
 ence that she should be the cynosure of something, she induced 
 her husband to remove to the sparser field of a distant country- 
 town, where, with her diplomatic abilities, she hoped to build him 
 him up into a member of Congress. And here shone forth the 
 genius of Mrs. Flimson. To make herself perfectly au fait of 
 country habits, usages, and prejudices, and opinions, was but the 
 work of a month or two of stealthy observation. At the end of 
 this short period, she had mastered a manner of rustic frankness 
 (to be put on at will) ; she had learned the secret of all rural 
 economies ; she had found out what degree of gentility would 
 inspire respect without offending, or exciting envy, and she had 
 made a near estimate of the influence, consequence, and worth- 
 trouble-ness of every family within visiting distance. 
 
 With this ammunition, Mrs. Flimson opened the campaign. 
 She joined all the sewing-circles of the village, refusing steadily 
 the invidious honor of manager, pattern-cutter, and treasurer ; she 
 selected one or two talkative objects for her charity, and was stu 
 diously secret in her manner of conveying her benefactions. She 
 talked with farmers, quoting Mr. Flimson for her facts. She dis 
 coursed with the parson, quoting Mr. Flimson for her theology. 
 She was intelligent and witty, and distributed plentiful scraps of 
 information, always quoting Mr. Flimson. She managed the farm 
 and the household, and kept all the accounts Mr. Flimson was 
 so overwhelmed with other business ! She talked politics, admit 
 ting that she was less of a republican than Mr. Flimson. She pro 
 duced excellent plans for charitable associations, town improve 
 ments, and the education of children all the result of Mr. Flim- 
 son's hours of relaxation. She was and was only Mr. Film- 
 son's humble vicegerent and poor representative. And every
 
 328 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 thing would seem so much better devised if he could have ex 
 pressed it in person ! 
 
 But Mr. Flimson was never nominated for Congress, and Mrs. 
 Flimson was very well understood from the first by her country 
 neighbors. There was a flaw in the high polish of her education 
 an error inseparable from too much consciousness of porcelain 
 in this crockery world. To raise themselves sufficiently above the 
 common level, the family of Mrs. Flimson habitually underrated 
 vulgar human nature, and the accomplished daughter, good at 
 every thing else, never knew where to find it. She thinks herself 
 in a cloud, floating far out of the reach of those around her, when 
 they are reading her at arm's length like a book. She calculates 
 her condescension for " forty fathom deep," when the object of it 
 sits beside her. She comes down graciously to the people's ca 
 pacity, and her simplicity is set down for trap. And still won 
 dering that Mr. Flimson is allowed by his country to remain in 
 obscurity, and that stupid rustics will not fuse and be moulded by 
 her well-studied congenialities, she begins to turn her attention to 
 things more on her own level, and on Sundays looks like a saint 
 distressed to be out of heaven. But for that one thread of con 
 tempt woven into the woof of her education, Mrs. Flimson might 
 have shone as a star in the world where she glimmers like a 
 taper.
 
 FROM SARATOGA, 
 
 TO THE JULIA OF SOME YEARS AGO. 
 August 2, 1843. 
 
 I HAVE not written to you in your boy's lifetime that fine lad, 
 a shade taller than yourself, whom I sometimes meet at my 
 tailor's and bootmaker's. I am not very sure, that after the first 
 month (bitter month) of your marriage, I . have thought of you 
 for the duration of a revery fit to be so called. -I loved you 
 lost you swore your ruin and forgot you which is love's climax 
 when jilted. And I never expected to think of you again. 
 
 Beside the astonishment at hearing from me at all, you will bo 
 surprised at receiving a letter from me at Saratoga. Here where 
 the stars are, that you swore by here, where the springs and 
 colonnades, the woodwalks and drives, the sofas and springs, are 
 all coated over with your delicious perjuries, your " protested " 
 protestations, your incalculable bankruptcy of sighs, tears, car 
 esses, promises ! Oh ! Julia mais, reliens toi, ma plume ! 
 
 I assure you I had not the slightest idea of ever coming here 
 again in the world not the slightest ! I had a vow in heaven 
 against it, indeed. "While I hated you before I forgot you, that 
 is to say I would not have come for your husband's million 
 (your price, Julia !) I had laid Saratoga away with a great sea).
 
 330 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 to be reopened in the next star I shall inhabit, and used as a 
 lighthouse of warning. There was one bannister at Congress 
 Hall, particularly across which we parted nightly the next 
 object my hand touched after losing the warm pressure of yours 
 the place I leaned over with a heart under my waistcoat which 
 would have scaled Olympus to be nearer to you, yet was kept 
 back by that mahogany and your " no" and I will believe that 
 devils may become dolls, and ghosts play around us like the 
 smoke of a cigar, since over that bannister I have thrown my leg 
 and sat thinking of the past without phrensy or emotion ! And 
 none have a better right than we to laugh now at love's passion 
 ate eternities ! For we were lovers, Julia I, as I know, and 
 you, as I believe and in that entry, when we parted to dream, 
 write, contrive for the blissful morrow anything but sleep and 
 forget in that entry and over that bannister were said words of 
 tenderness and devotion, from as deep soundings of two hearts as 
 ever plummet of this world could by possibility fathom. You 
 did love me monster of untruth and forgctfulness as you have 
 since been bought for you did love me ! And that you can ride 
 in your husband's carriage and grow fat, and that I can come 
 here and make a mock of it, are two comments on love worthy 
 of the common-place-book of Mephistophiles. Fie on us ! 
 
 I came to Saratoga as I would look at a coat that I had worn 
 twenty years before with a sort of vacant curiosity to see the 
 shell in which I had once figured. A friend said, " Join me at 
 Saratoga !" and it sounded like, " Come and see where Julia was 
 adorable.'' I came in a rail-car, under a hot sun, and wanted my 
 dinner, and wished myself where Julia, indeed, sat fat in her 
 fauteuil wished it, for the good wine in the cellar and the 
 French cook in the kitchen. And I did not go down to " Con-
 
 EPHEMERA. 331 
 
 gress Hall," the old palais d'amour but in the modern and com 
 fortable parlor of the " United States," sat down by a pretty 
 woman of these days, and chatted about the water-lily in her 
 bosom and the boy she had up stairs coldly and every-day-ishly. 
 I had been there six hours, and you had not entered my thoughts, 
 Please to believe that, Julia ! 
 
 But in the evening there was a ball at Congress Hall. And 
 though the old house is unfashionable now, and the lies of love 
 are elsewhere told and listened to, there was a movement among 
 the belles in its favor, and I appended myself to a lady's arm 
 and went boldly. I say boldly, for it required an effort. The 
 twilight had fallen, and with it had come a memory or two of the 
 Springs in our time. I had seated myself against a pillar of the 
 colonnade of the " United States," and looked down toward Con 
 gress Hall and you were under the old vine-clad portico, as I 
 should have seen you from the same spot, and with the same eye 
 of fancy, sundry years ago. So it was not quite like a passion 
 less antiquary that I set foot again on that old-time colonnade, 
 and, to say truth, as the band struck up a waltz, I might have 
 had in my lip a momentary quiver, and some dimness in my 
 world-weary eye. But it passed away. 
 
 The ball was comme ca, and I found sweet women (as where 
 are they not given, candles and music ?) and aired my homage 
 as an old stager may, I danced without thinking of you uncom 
 fortably, though the ten years' washing of that white floor has not 
 quite washed out the memory of your' Arab instep with its em 
 bracing and envied sandal, gliding and bounding, oh how airily ! 
 For you had feet, absolute in their perfection, dear Julia ! had 
 you not ? 
 
 But I went out for fresh air on the colonnade, in an evil and 
 
 I
 
 332 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 forgetful moment. I strolled alone toward the spring. The lamp 
 burned dim, as it used to burn, tended by Cupid's minions. And 
 on the end of the portico, by the last window of the music-room, 
 under that overhanging ivy, with stars in sight that I would have 
 sworn to for the very same sat a lady in a dress like yours as I 
 saw you last, and black eyes, like jet lamps framed in velvet, 
 turning indolently toward me. I held by the railing, for I am 
 superstitious, and it seemed to me that I had only to ask why you 
 were there for, ghostly or bodily, there I saw you ! Back came 
 your beauty on my memory with yesterday's freshness of recollec 
 tion. Back came into my heart the Julia of my long-accursed 
 adoration ! I saw your confiding and bewildering smile, your 
 fine-cut teeth of pearl, your over-bent brow and arch look from 
 under, your lily -shoulders, your dimpled hands. You were 
 there, if my senses were sufficient evidence, if presence be any 
 thing without touch bodily there ! 
 
 Of course it was somebody else. I went in and took a julep. 
 But I write to tell you that for a minute a minute of enormous 
 capacity I have loved you once more. For one minute, while 
 you probably were buried deep in your frilled pillow (snoring, 
 perhaps who knows ?) for one minute, fleeting and blissful, 
 you have been loved again with heart, brain, blood, all on fire 
 with truth, tenderness, and passionate adoration by a man who 
 could have bought you (you know I could !) for half the money 
 you sold for ! And I thought you would like to know this, 
 Julia ! And now, hating you as before, in your fleshy forgetful- 
 ness, Yours not at all.
 
 EPHEMERA. 333 
 
 TO MISS VIOLET MABY, AT SARATOGA. 
 
 ASTOE HOUSE, August, 1843. 
 
 START fair, my sweet Violet ' This letter will lie on your 
 table when you arrive at Saratoga, and it is intended to prepare 
 you for that critical campaign. You must know the ammunition 
 with which you go into the field. I have seen service, as you 
 know, and from iny retirement (on half-pay), can both devise 
 strategy and reconnoitre the enemy's weakness, with discretion. 
 Set your glass before you on the table, and let us hold a frank 
 council of war. 
 
 You never were called beautiful, as you know ; and at home 
 you have not been a belle but that is no impediment. You are 
 to be beautiful, now, or at least to produce the result of beauty, 
 which is the same thing ; and of course you are to be a belle 
 the belle, if I mistake not, of the season. Look in your mirror, 
 for a mpment, and refresh your memory with the wherewithal. 
 
 You observe that your mouth has blunt corners which, pro 
 perly managed, is a most effective feature. Your complexion 
 is rather darkly pale, your forehead is a shade lower- than 
 thought desirable, your lips are full, sweet, and indolent, and 
 your eyes are not remarkable unless when well handled. The 
 lids have a beauty, however, which a sculptor would understand, 
 and the duskiness around them may intensify, exceedingly, one 
 particular expression. Your figure is admirably perfect, but in 
 this country, and particularly among the men you are to control, 
 this large portion of female beauty is neither studied nor valued.
 
 334 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 Your hair is too profuse to be dressed quite fashionably, but it is 
 a beauty not to be lost, so it must be coiffed a Vabandon a very 
 taking style to'a man once brought to the point of studying you. 
 
 There are two phases in your character, Violet earnestness 
 and repose. The latter shows your features to the most advan 
 tage, besides being a most captivating quality in itself. I would 
 use it altogether for the first week. Gayety will never do. A 
 laugh on a face like yours is fatal. It spreads into unmeaning 
 platitude the little wells in the corners of your mouth (the blunt 
 corners I spoke of above), and it makes your eyes smaller 
 which they can not well bear. Your teeth are minion and white, 
 it is true, but they show charmingly when you speak, and are ex 
 cellent as reserved artillery, to follow an introduction. Save your 
 mirth till the game is won, my dear Violet ! 
 
 Of course you will not appear at breakfast the first morning 
 after your arrival. The mental atmosphere of the unaired hours 
 is too cold and questioning for a first appearance. So is the 
 hungry half-hour till the soup is removed. Go down late to din 
 ner. Till after the first glass of wine, the heart of man is a 
 shut book opened then for entries, and accessible till shut again 
 by sleep. You need no table-lesson. You eat elegantly, and, 
 with that swan's neck wrist, curving and ivory-fair, your every 
 movement is ammunition well-bestowed. But there may, or may 
 not, be a victim on the other side of the table. 
 
 After dinner is the champ de bataille! The men are gallant, 
 the ladies melted out, impulses a-top, the key of conversation so 
 prano, and everybody gay and trivial. So be not you. It is not 
 your style. Seat yourself where you will have a little space for 
 a foreground, lean your light elbow on your left wrist, and sup 
 port your cheek languidly in the hollow of your gloved thumb
 
 EPHEMERA. 335 
 
 and forefinger. Excuse the particularity, but try the attitude as 
 you sit now. Pretty is it not ? 
 
 . Look only out of the. tops of your eyes ! If women's glances 
 were really the palpable shafts the poets paint them, the effective 
 ones would cut through the eyebrows. Stupid ones slide over the 
 under lid. Try this ! How earnest the glance with the head 
 bent downward ! how silly the eyes with the chin salient ! And 
 move your eye indolently, my charming Violet ! It traverses the 
 frippery gayety-woof of the hour with a pretty thread of contrast 
 that looks like superiority. Men have a natural contempt for 
 themselves when in high spirits, and repose comes over them like 
 a star left in heaven after the turn of a rocket. 
 
 Nothing is prettier in woman than a leaning head ! Bow with 
 out removing the supporting hand from your cheek when a man 
 is introduced to you ; smile tranquilly, and look steadfastly in 
 his eyes and hear what he has to say. Lucky for you it is his 
 devoir to commence conversation ! And in whatever tone he 
 speaks, pitch your reply a note lower ! Unutterably sweet is the 
 contralto tone of woman, and the voices of two persons, convers 
 ing, are like the plummets of their hearts the deeper from the 
 deeper so felt, and so yielded. If you think it worth your 
 while to harmonize with his tone afterward, either in argument or 
 tenderness, the compliment is only less subtle than overpowering. 
 
 There is a great deal of promenading at Saratoga, and natural 
 instinct will teach you most of its overcomingness ; but I will 
 venture a suggestion or two. If you are bent on damage to your 
 man, lay your wrist forward to Ms, and let your hand drop over 
 it, when you take his arm. No mortal eye would think it partic 
 ular, nor would he but there is a kind of unconscious affection- 
 ateness about it which is electric. Of course you would not
 
 336 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 resort to manifest pressure, or leaning heavily, except you were 
 carrying on the war a Foutrance. Walk with your head a little 
 drooped. If you wish to walk more slowly, tell him so, but don't 
 hang lack. It is enchanting to have a woman " head you off," as 
 the sailors say, as if she were trying to wind around you and it 
 has the charm, too, of not looking particular ! 
 
 As to conversation, the trick is born with woman. If her per 
 son is admired to begin with, this is the least of her troubles. 
 But though you are sweet subjects, and men like to hear you talk 
 about yourselves, there is a sweeter subject, which they like bet 
 ter than you themselves. And lean away from merriment, Vi 
 olet! No man ever began to love, or made any progress in lov 
 ing, while a woman wa's laughing. Thfcre is a confidingness in 
 subdued tones and sad topics which sinks through the upper-crust 
 of a man like a stone through the thin ice of a well. And if he is 
 a man of natural sentiment or feeling, though a worldling him 
 self, the less worldliness in you, the better. Piety, in those who 
 are to belong to us, is a spell that, in any but mythological days, 
 would have superseded the sirens. 
 
 I believe that is all, Violet. At least it is all I need harp upon, 
 to you. Dress, you understand to a miracle. I see, by the way, 
 that they are wearing the hair now, like the chains on the shoul 
 der of a hussar three or four heavy curls swung from the tem 
 ples to the back-knot. And that will be pretty for you, as your 
 jaw is not Napoleonesque, and looks better for partial hiding. 
 Ruin your father, if necessary, in gloves and shoes. Primroses 
 should not be fresher. And whatever scarfs are made for, wear 
 nothing to break the curves from ear-tip to shoulder the sculp 
 ture lines of beauty in woman. Keep calm. Blood out of place 
 is abominable. And last, not least, for Heaven's sake doiHt fall
 
 EPHEMERA. 337 
 
 in love ! If you do, my precepts go for nothing and your belle- 
 ship is forgotten by all but " the remaidar biscuit " 
 
 Your affectionate uncle, CINNA BEVERLEY. 
 
 The above curious letter was left in the dressing-table drawer 
 
 of No. , United States Hotel. It was not generally known 
 
 that the young lady, who had occupied the room before a certain 
 respectable spinster (who handed us the letter, taking the respon 
 sibility of its publication as a warning), eloped after the third 
 day of her belleship as was to be expected. The result of such 
 pestilent advice is its own proper moral. 
 
 The respectable and zealous spinster who sent us for publica 
 tion, as a salutary warning, the very worldly and trappy epistle, 
 addressed to Miss Violet Maby, at Saratoga, and published on a 
 previous page, has laid her fingers on another specimen of the 
 same gentleman's correspondence, which we give, without com 
 ment or correction, as follows : 
 
 ASTOR HOUSE, August 10, 1843. 
 
 MY DEAR WIDOW : For the wear and tear of your bright eyes 
 in writing me a letter you are duly credited. That for a real 
 half-hour, as long as any ordinary half-hour, such well-contrived 
 illuminations should have concentrated their mortal using on me 
 only, is equal, I am well aware, to a private audience of any two 
 15
 
 838 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 stars in the firmament eyelashes and petticoats (if not thrown 
 in) turning the comparison a little in your favor. Thanks of 
 course piled high as the porphyry pyramid of Papantla ! 
 And you want " a pattern for a chemisette." Let me tell you, 
 my dear widow, you have had a narrow escape. Had you 
 unguardedly written to your milliner for an article so obsolete 
 but I'll not harrow up your feelings. Suffice it, that that once- 
 pi ivil"<r<.-d article has passed over, with decayed empires, to his 
 toryan aristocracy of muslin too intoxicated to last. " Fiat .'" 
 
 The truth is shams are tottering. The linen cuff which was a 
 shallow representation of the edge of a linen sleeve, and the linen 
 collar or embroidered chemisette, which as faintly imagined forth 
 the spotless upper portion of the same investiture, are now bona 
 fide continuations of a garment, '* though lost to sight to memo 
 ry dear !" The plait on the throat and wrist is scrupulously of 
 the same fineness, and simply emerges from the neck and sleeve 
 of the dress without turning over. 
 
 The hem of the skirt is beyond my province of observation, 
 but as the plaited edge would be pretty (spread over the instep 
 when sitting), the unity is probably preserved. 
 
 Apropos of instep the new discovery of a steel spring in the 
 shoe to arch the hollow of the foot, has directed attention to the 
 curves of those bewitching locomotives, and keels are coming into 
 fashion. This somewhat improves the shapeliness of the pastern, 
 lifts the sex a half inch nearer heaven more out of reach than 
 ever, of course. Adieu in time should you lose sight of me ! 
 
 And now (for I believe you may trust " The Lady's Book" 
 for the remainder of the chronicle of fashion) how comes on, 
 oh, charming widow, the little property I have in your empire of 
 alabaster ? Shall 1 recall the title-deed to your recollection t
 
 EPHEMERA. 339 
 
 Did you not, on a summer's night, having the full possession of 
 your senses, lay a rose-leaf wetted with dew on your left temple ? 
 Did you not, without mental reservation, scratch it round with a 
 thorn-of the same rose, and then and there convey to me the ter 
 ritory so bounded, to have and to hold for my natural life, to be 
 guarded, at your peril, from trespass or damage ? Did you not, 
 at the same place and time, with blood taken from your pricked 
 finger, write me out, to this effect, a rosy conveyance, of which, 
 if needful, I can send you, in red ink, a paler copy ? Of course 
 I do not ask for information. You know you did. And you 
 know you had for it a consideration of such immortality as was 
 iu my power to bestow : 
 
 " Where press this hour those fairy feet ?" &c. 
 
 You married and with so prying a neighbor as your remain 
 der's husband, I did not very frequently visit my little property. 
 You had the stewardship over it, and I presume that you respect 
 ed, and made others respect, the rights of the proprietor. I 
 never heard that your husb-irvl was seen invading the premises. 
 I have every reason to believu that he was uniformly directed to 
 plant his tulips elsewhere than in my small garden. It was tome 
 a slumbering investment and the interest, I must be permitted 
 to advise you, has accumulated upon it ! 
 
 And now that my prying neighbor is dead, and the property in 
 the opposite temple and the remainder of the demesne, has 
 reverted to the original proprietor, I may be permitted to propose 
 myself as an occupant of my own territory, pro tern., with liberty 
 to pluck fruit from the opposite garden as long as it remains un- 
 tenanted. Take care how you warn me off. That peach upon 
 your cheek would make a thief of a better man.
 
 340 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 You disdain news, of course. China is taken by the English, 
 and the Down-Town-Bard has recovered his appetite for cham 
 pagne, and writes regularly for the New Mirror. The Queen's 
 Guards have done coming over ; the town dull ; and bonnets (I 
 forgot to mention) are now worn precipitated over the nose at an 
 angle of forty-five degrees. 
 
 Adieu, my dear widow. Command me till you lose your 
 beauty. Yours at present, 
 
 CINNA BEVERLEV. 
 
 CINNA BEVERLEr, ESQ., TO ALEXIS VON PflUHL. 
 
 ASTOR HOUSE, Sept. 1, 1843. 
 
 Mv DEAR NEPH-LING : I congratulate you on the attainment 
 of your degree as " Master of Arts." In other words, I wish 
 the sin of the Faculty well repented of, in having endorsed upon 
 parchment such a barefaced fabrication. Put the document in 
 your pocket, and come away ! There will be no occasion to air 
 it before doomsday. proBably, and fortunately for you, it will then 
 revert to the Faculty. Qaiescat adhuc as I used to say of my 
 tailor's bills till they came through a lawyer. 
 
 And now, what is to become of you ? I do not mean as to 
 what your grandmother calls your "temporal welfare." You 
 were born to gold-dust like a butterfly's wing. Ten thousand a 
 year will ooze into your palni like insensible perspiration (priii-
 
 EPHEMERA. 34 J 
 
 cipally from investments in the " Life and Trust"). But your 
 style, my dear boy your idiosyncrasy of broadcloth and beaver, 
 satin and patent-leather your outer type your atmosphere 
 your cut ! Oh, Alexis ! 
 
 But let us look this momentous matter coolly in the face. 
 
 America has now arrived at that era of civilized aggrandize 
 ment when it is worth a gentleman's while to tie his cravat for 
 the national meridian. We can afford to wish St. James street 
 " bdh voyage" in its decline from empire. We dress better than 
 Great Britain. Ilium fuit. The last appeal of the universe, a3 
 to male toggery, lies in the approval of forty eyes lucent beneath 
 twenty bonnets in Broadway. In the decision of twenty belles or 
 thereabout, native in New York, resides, at this present crisis, 
 the eidolon of the beau supreme. Homage a la mode Manhattan- 
 esque ! 
 
 But, to the sanctum of fashion there is no thoroughfare. 
 Three persons, arriving at it by the same road, send it flying like 
 " Loretto's chapel through the air." Every man his own guide 
 thither, and his path trackless as a bird's alley to his nest ! I 
 can but give you some loose data for guidance, and pray that 
 " by an instinct you have'' you may take a " bee-line" of your 
 own. 
 
 Of course you know that during the imitative era just past^ 
 there have been two styles of men's dress the Londonish and 
 the Parisian pretty equally popular, I should say. The London 
 man dresses loose above, the Paris man loose below tight hips 
 and baggy coat in St. James street baggy trousers and pinched 
 coat on the Boulevard. The Englishman puts on his cravat with 
 summary energy and a short tie the Frenchman rejoices in a 
 voluptuous waterfall of satin ; and each, more particularly in this
 
 342 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 matter of neckcloth, abhors the other. Join Bull shows his 
 shirt-collar till death Monsieur sinks it with the same pertinac 
 ity. English extravagance, fine linen French extravagance, 
 primrose kids. 
 
 Something is due, of course, to the settled principles of art. 
 By the laws of sculpture, the Frenchman is wrong the beauty 
 of the male figure consisting in the breadth of the shoulders and 
 the narrowness of the hips ; and this formation shows blood and 
 breeding, moreover, as to have small hips, a man's progenitors 
 must not have carried burdens. So for me trousers snug to 
 the barrel, and coat scant of skirt, but prodigal above. Decide 
 for yourself, notwithstanding. There is a certain je ne sgais quoi 
 in bagginess of continuation specially on a tall man. It only 
 don't suit my style ! 
 
 And, as. to cravat, I have the same weak leaning toward Bond 
 street. The throat looks poulticed in those heavy voluuiinous- 
 nesses. Black diminishes the apparent size, too, and the more 
 Bhirt-bosom visible, the broader the apparent chest. It depends 
 on the stuff, somewhat. Very rich billows of flowered satin look 
 ruinous and that the ladies love. But in every other particu 
 lar, if you will wear these eclipsers of linen, you must be as lav- 
 endered as a lily at dawn compensatory, as it were ! And if 
 you show your collar, for Heaven's sake let it follow the curve of 
 your jawbone, and not run athwart it like a rocket aimed at the 
 corner of your eyebrow ! I am sensitive as to this last hint. 
 The reform was my own. 
 
 One caution never be persuaded that there is such a thing as 
 a fashion of hat ! Belk-ve me, the thing is impossible ! Employ 
 an artist. George Flagg has a good eye for a gentleman's 
 belongings, and he'll make a drawing of you with reference to a
 
 EPHEMERA. 343 
 
 hat.. No hat is endurable that will not look well in a picture. 
 Ponder the briui. Study how the front curve cuts the liae of the 
 eyebrow. Regulate it by the expression of face common to you 
 when dawdling. See if you require lengthening or crowding 
 down physiognomically, I mean. Low crowns are monstrous 
 vindictive.^" Bell crowns are dressy white hats rowdy. And, 
 once fixed in your taste by artistical principles, be pretty constant 
 through life to that hat. Have it reproduced (rigidly, without 
 consultation with your hatter), and give it a shower-bath before 
 wearing. Unmitigated new hat is truly frightful. Orlando Fish 
 takes your idea cleverly, touching a tile of your own. 
 
 As to the Castaly of coats, I am driven to believe that the 
 true fount is at Philadelphia. One marvellous coat after another 
 arrived at Saratoga while I was there, and to my astonished re 
 search as to their origin, and there was but one reply " Carpen 
 ter." What may be the address of this Carpenter of coats, I 
 know not yet. But I shall know, and soon for he builds to a 
 miracle. Trousers, as you know, are sent home in the rough, 
 and adapted by perseverance. They are a complex mystery, oa 
 the whole. Pew makers know" more than a part in the science 
 of cutting them, and you must supply the rest by clear expound 
 ing and pertinacious experiment. The trade is trying, and should 
 be expiative of crime in the "sufferer." 
 
 There is but one simple idea in boots patent-leather and 
 straight on the inside. But, by-the-way, to jump abruptly to the 
 other extremity, how do you wear your hair. For Cupid's and 
 the Grace's sake, don't be English in that ! Short hair on a 
 young man looks to me madhousey. Ugh ! Straight or curly, 
 leave it long enough to make a bootlace for a lady ! And see 
 that it looks threadable by slight fingers for if you should
 
 344 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 chance to be beloved, there will be fingers unemployed but for 
 that little endearment. So at least I conjecture bald myself, 
 and of course, not experienced authority. 
 
 But, whatever you decide, don't step into the street rashly ! 
 Keep yourself " on private view" for a few days after you are 
 made up, and call in discreet judges for the benefit of criticism 
 an artist or two among them for the general effects. First im 
 pressions are irrevocable. 
 
 Adieu, my boy ! Caution ! and ponder on Bakac's dictum : 
 " Les femmes aiment les fats, parceque les fats sont les seuls hom 
 ines qui eussent soin d'euz-mtmes." 
 
 Your affectionate uncle, 
 
 CINNA BEVERLEY. 
 
 P. S. A short cane say as long as your arm is rather know 
 ing, now. Nobody carries a long stick, except to poke at snakes 
 in the country. 
 
 NEXT to eating, drinking, loving, and money-making, the 
 greatest desire of human beings seems to be to discover the lin 
 ing of each other's brains ; and the great difference between 
 authors and other people seems mainly to consist in the faculty 
 of turning out this lining to the view. But in this same lining 
 there are many plaits, wrinkles, and corners, which even authors 
 scarce think it worth their while to expand, but which, if acci 
 dentally developed, create an interest, either by their correspon 
 dence with other people's wrinkles, or by their intrinsic peculi 
 arity.
 
 EPHEMERA. 345 
 
 Let us see if we can give a sketchy idea of the rise and pro 
 gress of literary celebrity in London ; or, in other words, the 
 climbing into society, and obtaining of notice by men who have a 
 calling to literature. Sterne's method of generalizing, by taking 
 a single instance, is a very good one, and we will touch here and 
 there upon the history of an individual whom we know, and who, 
 after achieving several rounds of the ladder of society, is still, we 
 believe, slowly making his way upward or downward. Let us 
 call him Snooks, if you please y for we cannot give his real name, 
 and still speak as freely as we wish to do of his difficulties in 
 mounting. Snooks was a Manchester boy of good birth, brought 
 up to business his position at home about equal to that of a 
 merchant's son in New York. He began writing verses for the 
 country papers, and at last succeeded in getting an article into 
 the London New Monthly, and with this encouragement came up 
 to town to follow literature for a livelihood. With a moderate 
 stipend from his father, he lived a very quiet life for a couple of 
 years, finding it rather difficult to give away his productions, and 
 quite impossible to sell them. There was no opening at the same 
 time through which he could even make an attempt to get a foot 
 ing in desirable society. In the third year he became proof-reader 
 to one of the publishers, and being called upon to write anticipa 
 tory puffs of works he had examined in manuscript, he came 
 under the notice of the proprietor of one of the weeklies, and by 
 a lucky chance was soon after employed as sub-editor. This was 
 his first available foothold. It was his business, of course, to 
 review new books, and, as a " teller" in the bank of fame, he was 
 a personage of some delegated importance. His first agreeable 
 surprise was the receipt of a parcel in scented paper, containing 
 the virgin effusions of a right honorable lady, who, in a little 
 15*
 
 346 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 note, with her compliments to Mr. Snooks (for she had inquired 
 the name of her probable critic through a literary friend), beirged 
 a notice of her little book, and a call from Mr. Snooks when ho 
 should have committed his criticisms to paper. Snooks was a 
 man of very indifferent personables, his hair of an unmitigated 
 red, and his voice of a very hair-splitting treble ; but he had a 
 violent taste for dress, and a born passion for countesses ; and he 
 wrote most unexceptionable poetry, that would pass for anybody's 
 in the world, it was so utterly free from any peculiarity. This 
 last quality made him an excellent verse-tinker, and he was the 
 man of all others best suited to solder over the cracks and chasms 
 of right honorable poetry. He wrote a most commendatory crit 
 icism of her ladyship's book, quoting some passages, with here 
 and there an emendation of his own, and called at the noble 
 mansion with the critique in his pocket. By this bridge of well 
 born vanity, paying the humiliating toll of insincere praise, he 
 crossed the repelling barrier of aristocratic life, and entered it as 
 the necessary incumbrance in her ladyship's literary fame. Her 
 ladyship was " at home" on Thursday evenings, and Snooks be 
 came the invariable first comer and last goer-away ; but his hap 
 piness on these Thursday evenings could only be called happiness 
 when it was reconnoitred from the distance of Manchester. He 
 went always in an irreproachable waistcoat, fresh gloves and var 
 nished shoes, but his social performances for the evening consist 
 ed in his first bow to her ladyship, and her ladyship's " How d'ye 
 do, -Mr. Snooks ?" After this exciting conversation, he became 
 ini mediately interested in some of the bijoux upon the table r 
 striding off from that to look at a picture in the corner, or to 
 procure the shelter of a bust upon a pedestal, behind which be 
 could securely observe the people, so remarkably unconscious of
 
 EPHEMERA. s 347 
 
 his presence. Possibly toward the latter part of the evening, a 
 dandy would level bis glass at him and wonder how the devil he 
 amused himself, or some purblind dowager would mistake him for 
 the footman, and ask him for a glass of water ; but these were 
 his nearest approaches to an intimacy with the set in which he 
 visited. After a couple of years of intercourse with the nobility 
 on this footing, he becomes acquainted with one or two other 
 noble authors at the same price, frequents their parties in the 
 same way, and having unequivocal evidence (in notes of invita 
 tion) that he visits at the West End, he now finds a downward 
 door open to society in Russell square. By dint of talking 
 authentically of my lady this, and my lord the other, he obtains 
 a vogue at the East End which he could only get by having come 
 down from a higher sphere, and through this vestibule of aristo 
 cratic contempt he descends to the highest society in which he 
 can ever be familiar. Mr. Snooks has written a novel in three 
 volumes, and considers himself fully established as one of the 
 notabilities of London ; but a fish out of water is happy- in com 
 parison with Snooks when in the society of the friends he talks 
 most about, and if he were to die to-morrow, those very 
 " friends" would with difficulty remember anything but his Ted 
 head, and the exemplary patience with which he submitted to his 
 own society. 
 
 The fact is, that the position of a mere literary man in Eng 
 land, in any circle above that to which he is born, is that of a 
 jackall. He is invited for what he contributes to the entertain- 
 munt of the aristocratic lions and lionesses who feed him. He 
 has neither power nor privilege in their sphere. He dare not 
 introduce a friend, except as another jackall, and it would be for* 
 yery extraordinary reasons that he would ever name at the tables
 
 348 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 where he is most intimate, his father or mother, wife, sister, or 
 brother. The footman, who sometimes comes to him with a note 
 or book, knows the difference between him and the other guests 
 of his master, and by an unpunishable difference of manner, 
 makes the distinction in his service. The abandon which they 
 feel iu his presence, he, never feels in their s ; and we doubt 
 whether Thomas Moore himself, the pet of the English aristoc 
 racy for forty years, ever forgot, in their company, that he was 
 in the presence of his superiors, and an object of condescension. 
 Now we have many people in this country, Americans born, 
 who are monarchists, and who make no scruple in private conver 
 sation of wishing for a defined aristocracy, and other infrangible 
 distinctions between the different classes of society. In the pic 
 ture they draw, however, they themselves figure as the aristo 
 crats ; and we must take the liberty, for the moment, of putting 
 them " below the salt," and setting forth a few of their annoy 
 ances. Take the best-received Americans in London yourself, 
 for example, Mr. Reader ! You have no fixed rank, and there 
 fore you have nothing to keep you down, and can rise to any 
 position in the gift of your noble entertainer. As a foreigner, 
 you circulate freely (as many well-introduced Americans do) 
 through all the porcelain penetralia, of the West End. You are 
 invited to dine, we will say, with his grace, the Duke of Devon 
 shire. There are ten or twelve guests, all uoble except yourself; 
 and when you look round upon the five other gentlemen, it is pos 
 sible that, withqpt vanity, you may come to the conclusion, that 
 in dress, address, spirit, and natural gifts, you are at least the 
 equal of those around you. Dinner is late in being announced, 
 and meantime, as you know all the ladies, and are particularly 
 acquainted with the youngest and prettiest, you sit down by the
 
 EPHEMERA. 349 
 
 latter, and promise yourself the pleasure of giving her an arm 
 when the doors are thrown open, and sitting by her at dinner.. 
 The butler makes his appearance at last, and the lady willingly 
 takes your arm when in steps my Lord Flummery, who is a ter 
 rible " spoon," but undoubtedly " my lord," takes the lady from 
 you, and makes his way to the dinner-table. Your first thought 
 is to follow and secure a place on the other side of her, but still 
 another couple or two are to take precedence, and you are left at 
 last to walk in alone, and take the seat that is left perhaps 
 between two men who have a lady on the other side. Pleasant 
 isn't it ? 
 
 Again. You are strolling in Regent street or the park with an 
 Englishman, whose acquaintance you made on your travels. He 
 is a man of fortune, and as independent in his character as any 
 man in England. On the continent he struck you as particularly 
 high-minded and free from prejudice. You are chatting with 
 him very intimately, when a young nobleman, not remarkable for 
 anything but his nobility, slips his arm into your friend's and 
 joins the promenade. From that moment your friend gives you, 
 about as much of his attention as he does to his walking-stick, 
 lets your questions go unanswered, let them be never so clove/ 
 and enjoys with the high'est zest the most remote spoonyosities of 
 my lord. You, perhaps, as a stranger, visit in my lord's circle 
 of society, and your friend does not ; but he would as soon think 
 of picking my lord's pocket as of introducing you to him, and, 
 if you begin to think you are Monsieur de Trap, 'and say " good 
 morning," your friend, who never parted from you before without 
 making an engagement to see you again, gives you a nod without 
 turning his head from his lordship, and very dryly echoes your 
 " good morning." And this, we repeat, the most independent
 
 350 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 man in England will do, for he is brought up to fear God and 
 honor a lord, and it is bred in his bone and brain. 
 
 We could give a thousand similar instances, but the reader can 
 easily "imagine them. The life of a commoner in England is one 
 of inevitable and daily eclipse and mortification nothing but the 
 force of early habits and education making it tolerable to the 
 Englishman himself, and nothing at all making it in any way en 
 durable to a republican of any pride or spirit. You naturally 
 say, " Why not associate with tbe middle classes, and let the 
 aristocracy go to the devil r" but individually sending people to 
 the devil is of no use, and the middle classes value yourself and 
 each other only as your introduction to them is aristocratic, or as 
 their friends are approvable by an aristocratic eye. There is 
 no class free from this humiliating weakness. The notice of a 
 lord will at any time take the wind out of your sails when a lady 
 is in tbe case ; your tailor will leave you half-measured to run to 
 my lord's cab in the street ; your doctor will neglect your fever 
 for my lord's cold; your friend will breakfast with my - lord, 
 though engaged particularly to you ; and the out-goings, and in 
 comings, the sayings and doings, the stupidities, impudencics, 
 manners, greetings, and condescensions of lords and ladies, usurp 
 the conversation in all places, and to the interruption or exclusion 
 of the most grave or personal topics. 
 
 Understand us, we grudge no respect to dignities or authori 
 ties. Even to wealth as power, we are willing to yield the wall. 
 But we say again, that a republican spirit must rebel against 
 homage to anything human with which it never can compete, and in 
 this lies the only distinction (we fervently hope) which will over 
 hedge in an American aristocracy. Let who will get to windward
 
 EPHEMERA. 351 
 
 of us by superior sailing the richer, the handsomer, the clev 
 erer, the stronger, the more beloved and gifted there was fair 
 play at the start, and we will pay deference and duty with the 
 promptest. But no, lords and ladies, Mr. President, if you love 
 us.
 
 MISS ALBINA McLUSH. 
 
 I HAVE a passion for fat women. If there is anything I hate 
 in life, it is what dainty people call a spirituelle. Motion rapid 
 motion a smart, quick, squirrel-like step, a pert, voluble tone 
 in short, a lively girl is my exquisite horror ! I would as lief 
 have a diable petit dancing his infernal hornpipe on my cerebel 
 lum as to be in the room with one. I have tried before now to 
 school myself into liking these parched peas of humanity. I 
 have followed them with my eyes, and attended to their rattle 
 till I was as crazy as a fly in a drum. I have danc'ed with them, 
 and romped with them in the country, and perilled the salvation 
 of my " white tights " by sitting near them at supper. I swear 
 off from this moment. I do. I won't no hang me if ever I 
 show another small, lively, spry woman a civility. 
 
 Albina McLush is divine. She is like the description of the 
 Persian beauty by Hafiz : " her heart is full of passion and her 
 eyes are full of sleep." She is the sister of Lurly McLush, my 
 old college chum, who, as early as his sophomore year, was chosen 
 president of the Dolce-far-nienle Society no member of which 
 was ever known to be surprised at anything (the college law of
 
 MISS ALBINA McLUSH. 353 
 
 rising before breakfast excepted.) Lurly introduced me to his 
 ister one day, as he w*as lying upon a heap of turnips, leaning on 
 his elbow with his head in his hand, in a green lane in the sub 
 urbs. He had driven over a stump, and been tossed out of his 
 gig, and I came up just as he was wondering how in the d 1's 
 name he got there ! Albina sat quietly in the gig, and when I 
 was presented, requested me, with a delicious drawl, to say no 
 thing about the adventure " it would be so troublesome to relate 
 it to everybody !' J I loved her from that moment. Miss 
 McLush was tall, and her shape, of its kind, was perfect. It 
 was not a fleshy one, exactly, but she was large and full. Her 
 skin was clear, fine-grained, and transparent : her temples and 
 forehead perfectly rounded and polished, and her lips and chin 
 swelling into a ripe and tempting pout, like the cleft of a bursted 
 apricot. And then her eyes large, liquid, and sleepy they lan 
 guished beneath their long black fringes as if they had no busi 
 ness with daylight like two magnificent dreams, surprised in 
 their jet embryos by some bird-nesting cherub. Oh ! it was 
 lovely to look into them ! 
 
 She sat, usually, upon a fauteuil^ with her large, full arm em 
 bedded in the cushion, sometimes for hours without stirring. I 
 have seen the wind lift the masses of dark hair from her shoul 
 ders when it seemed like the coming to life of a marble Hebe 
 she had been motionless so long. She was a model for a goddess 
 of sleep, as she sat with her eyes half closed, lifting up their 
 superb lids slowly as you spoke to her, and dropping them again 
 with the deliberate motion of a cloud, when she had murmured 
 out her syllable of assent. Her figure, in a sitting posture, pre 
 sented a gentle declivity from the curve of her neck to the instep 
 of the small round foot lying on its side upon the ottoman. I
 
 354 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 remember a fellow's bringing her a plate of fruit one evening. 
 He was one of your lively men a horrid monster, all right an 
 gles and activity. Having never been accustomed to hold her 
 own plate, she had not well extricated her whole fingers from her 
 handkerchief, before he set it down in her lap. As it began 
 slowly to slide towards her feet, her hand relapsed into the mus 
 lin folds, and she fixed her eye upon it with a kind of indolent 
 surprise, drooping her lids gradually, till as the fruit scattered 
 over the ottoman, they closed entirely, and a liquid jet line was 
 alone visible through the heavy lashes. There was an imperial 
 indifference in it worthy of Juno. 
 
 Miss McLush rarely walks. When she does, it is with the de 
 liberate majesty of a Dido. Her small, plump feet melt to the 
 ground like snow-flakes ; and her figure sways to the indolent 
 motion of her limbs with a glorious grace and yieldingness quite 
 indescribable. She was idling slowly up the Mall one evening 
 just at twilight, with a servant at a short distance behind her, 
 who, to while away the time between his steps, was employing 
 himself in throwing stones at the cows feeding upon the Common. 
 A gentleman, with a natural admiration, for her splendid person, 
 addressed her. He might have done a more eccentric thing. 
 Without troubling herself to look at him, she turned to her ser 
 vant and requested him, with a yawn of desperate ennui, to knock 
 that fellow down ! John obeyed his orders ; and, as his mistress 
 resumed her lounge, picked up a new handful 'of pebbles, and toss 
 ing one at the nearest cow, loitered lazily after. 
 
 Such supreme indolence was irresistible. I gave in I who 
 never before could summon energy to sigh I to whom a de 
 claration was but a synonym for perspiration I who had only
 
 MISS ALBINA McLUSH. 355 
 
 thought of love as a nervous complaint, and of women but to 
 pray for a good deliverance I yes I knocked under. Al- 
 bina McLush ! Thou wert too exquisitely lazy. Human sensi 
 bilities cannot hold out forever ! 
 
 I found her one morning sipping her coffee at, twelve, with her 
 eyes wide open. She was just from the bath, and her complexion 
 bad a soft, dewy transparency, like the cheek of Venus rising 
 from the sea. It was the hour, Lurly had told me, when she 
 would be at the trouble of thinking. She put away with her dim 
 pled forefinger, as I entered, a cluster of rich curls that had fallen 
 over her face, and nodded to me like a water-lily swaying to the 
 wind when its cup is fulj of rain. 
 
 " Lady Albina," said I, in my softest tone, " how are you ?" 
 
 " Bettina," said she, addressing her maid in a voice as clouded 
 and rich as a south wind on an ><Eolian, "how am I to-day ?" 
 
 The conversation fell into short sentences. The dialogue be 
 came a monologue. I entered upon my declaration. With the 
 assistance of Bettina, who supplied her mistress with cologne, I 
 kept her attention alive through the incipient circumstances. 
 Symptoms were .soon told.. I came to the avowal. Her hand 
 lay reposing on .the arm of the sofa, half buried in a maslin 
 foulard. I took it up and pressed the cool soft fingers to my lips 
 unforbidden. I rose and looked into her eyes for confirmation. 
 Delicious creature ! she was asleep ! 
 
 I never have had courage to renew the subject. Miss McLush 
 seems to have forgotten it altogether. Upon reflection, too, I'm 
 convinced she would not survive the excitement of the ceremony 
 unless, indeed, she should sleep between the responses and the 
 prayer. I am still devoted, however, and if there should come
 
 356 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 a war or an earthquake, or if the millennium should commence, 
 as is expected, in 1833, or if anything happens that can keep her 
 waking so long, I shall deliver a declaration, abbreviated for me 
 by a scholar-friend of mine, which, he warrants, may be articula 
 ted in fifteen minutes without fatigue.
 
 THE NEED 'OF TWO LOVES, 
 
 IN the village of Rooky brook there was one beauty who did not 
 look as if she were born there. Eyes as dark as hers might have 
 been found among the other belles of the neighborhood features 
 as regular, and skin as fair, for a brunette ; but there was a cer 
 tain character in the complete presence of Lilian Tevis face, 
 form, movements and general air which seemed to breathe of 
 another climate, and to be imprinted with the habits and associa 
 tions of another country and race. She was unconscious, appar 
 ently, of possessing any advantage over her companions, either in 
 looks or mental qualities, and the peculiarities of her manner 
 would have been attributed, probably, by any one of the neigh 
 bors, to great natural reserve, and to a near-sightedness which 
 might easily make her unaware of what was passing around her. 
 Her father was a Quaker farmer, in good circumstances, and her 
 mother was an enthusiast in that poetical and spirit-nurturing 
 religion, so that Lilian's education, though simple as it could well 
 be, had conspired with her timidity to turn her-thoughts in upon 
 herself, fostering most the imaginative and dreamy side of her 
 nature. 
 
 In the assorting and coupling by the village gossips, Lily Tevis
 
 358 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 was invariably named with the son of " Contractor Brown," al 
 most the only young man in the vicinity who " had been to col 
 lege." The contractor was a stern father, and had taken his son 
 into business after giving hiiu an education, exacting such service 
 as kept him well out of the way of love and leisure. To go to 
 the city, or to the backwoods, at a minute's warning to pass a 
 month on horseback overlooking workmen to toil one week, 
 night and day, over estimates, and, the next week, climb hills 
 with surveyors and engineers was a kind of life that promised, 
 at least, as his father expressed it, " to take the nonsense out of 
 him." A dread of this " nonsense " indeed a vague dislike of 
 everything that " didn't pay " was the key to most of the pater 
 nal advice, which had been distributed along through the boyhood 
 and youth of young Brown, and it had gradually formed his mind 
 to a habit of trusting nothing to utterance, or to the knowledge 
 of others, which would not bear the scrutiny of this practical 
 standard Shut off from sentiment, however, the high health and 
 spirits of Frank Brown found expression in exuberant gayety of 
 manner ; and, whenever in the society of the village belles, he 
 was invariably so good-humored and merry, that it passed for the 
 only possible shape of his natural di.sposition. Such he was 
 thought to be and such only even by Lily Tevis, who, not 
 withstanding, had a preference for him, over all the young men 
 she had ever seen ; and, without any definite avowal of love, she 
 had tacitly accepted his preference as shown in slight attentions, 
 and felt affianced to him by some unseen chain of reciprocated 
 feelings and sympathies. She frankly and gladly received the 
 news of him, when he was absent, (brought to her by those who 
 thought her and youug Brown " the same as engaged,") and re-
 
 THE NEED OF TWO LOVES. 359 
 
 ceived the especial smile of the contractor, when he spoke to her 
 on the road, with no special sense of its misapplication. 
 
 But, though she thus let the outer world, and the feelings 
 which belonged to it, take their course, there was an inner world 
 in which Lily felt more at home, and to which her thoughts 
 turned oftenest during her many hours of solitude. Of this 
 world of poetry and imagination, her chamber door was the enter 
 ing porch ; and the key of that white-curtained sanctuary shut 
 out behind her the visible world, with its associations and affec 
 tions, as if the threshold had been guarded by an angel. Here 
 were her books. Here stood the table atr which she sat to read 
 and dream. The window opened upon the long roof of her 
 mother's pantry and store rooms, which had been boxed in and 
 floored, and converted into a terrace for flowers. It was consist 
 ent with Mrs. Tevis's religion, and the unconfessed poetry of her 
 nature, to encourage her daughter in habits of seclusion and priv 
 acy, and this terrace of flowers, visited by no other eye than Lily's 
 and her own, seemed to her like the field of spirit communings, 
 in which she wished her beloved child to meet the unseen corn- 
 pauy that is ever about us. It had gradually become the under 
 stood custom of the household to observe a deference toward Li 
 lian, with regard to the hours when she was accustomed, to be 
 alone ; and the privacy of that chamber, and of the garden-walks 
 around under the terrace, were looked upon as sacred. With the 
 reserve of character which this was calculated to deepen and ren 
 der more sensitive, and with the increasing quickness of percep 
 tion as to the want of harmony between the rude world without 
 and the gentle world within, it was not wonderful that Lilian 
 Tevis became the imaginative being that she wa&> or that her new
 
 360 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 thoughts and emotions, in this more ideal of her two worlds, 
 should have been as secret as this story will show. 
 
 It had sometimes crossed Lilian's mind, that the thoughts and 
 
 * O 
 
 occupations on which she set the most value, were those in which 
 Frank Brown had no share for his conversations, when in her 
 presence, were, usually divided between news and fun but she 
 had felt no need, up to the time when our story commences, of 
 looking beyond his preference and attention, for companionship 
 or sympathy. A new light had lately broken in upon her, how 
 ever. In one of the periodicals which graced her well-stored ta 
 ble, a new writer had made his appearance. Poems, over the sig 
 nature of " Ernest," came, in successive numbers, and, from the 
 very first which she had read, they had singularly riveted her at 
 tention. Without being finished as elaborately as those of other 
 writers, they had a certain close truthfulness .to her own emotions, 
 and to the instincts of her own nature, which made them seem 
 like words she might have uttered in her sleep, or revelations, 
 that she might have made from her inmost being, in the clairvoy 
 ance of magnetism. Though she had, herself, never written in 
 verse, and though the subjects were such as she had never talked 
 upon, and the language new, and with no imitation of any other 
 poet whom she had read, there was recognition in her heart for 
 the truth of every line. She had a spirit kindred to the writer's, 
 whoever he might be ; and whether or not he had seen and known 
 her in other worlds, (as she could scarce help believing,) he was 
 now the interpreter of her soul. 
 
 For the successive numbers of the periodical in which appeared
 
 THE NEED OF TWO LOVES. 361 
 
 the poems of ''Ernest," Lilian waited with feverish impatience. 
 Each new one seemed truer and deeper, in its voicing forth of 
 what her soul had, hitherto, only left unsaid. She committed 
 them to memory with the first reading of them, -and they haunted 
 her, waking and sleeping, in her walks and in her dreams. 
 Toward the writer, whoever he might be, she began to feel the 
 confidingness of intimacy and friendship. . That, in some spirit- 
 guise or other, he visited her mind, and could be made conscious 
 of what therein responded to his own beautiful thoughts, was a 
 conscious feeling in her bosom which amounted to a conviction. 
 It was with a resistless desire to record and retain the mementoes 
 of this intercourse, that she first took pen and paper. She had 
 no intention to send the letter to "Ernest" which she then 
 wrote. That one of these transcripts of reverie was afterward 
 sent to him, enclosed to the editor of the periodical to which he 
 was a contributor, and that it resulted in an actual correspon 
 dence, in which neither knew the real name of the other, was a 
 reality which came about, Lilian scarce knew how. She had fol 
 lowed the dictation of timidity in using a fictitious signature ; 
 and, in arranging to receive the replies through a channel which 
 would not betray her residence, she was prompted by .the dread 
 of seeming forward and strange to those who would not under 
 stand the nature of the correspondence. With the beginnings 
 thus explained, the two following letters, from a more advanced 
 stage of the epistolary acquaintance, will, perhaps, be read com- 
 prehendingly :
 
 362 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 ERMENGARDE TO ERNEST. 
 
 All asleep around me, dear Ernest, save the birds and insects 
 to whom night is the time for waking. The stars and they are 
 the company of such lovers of the thought-world as you and I, 
 and, considering how beautiful night is, nature seems to have ar 
 ranged it for a gentler and loftier order of beings, who alternate 
 the conscious possession of the earth with those who wake by day. 
 Shall wo think better of ourselves for joining this nightingale 
 troop, or is it (as I sometimes dread) a culpable shunning of the 
 positive duties which belong to us as creatures of sunshine ? 
 Alas ! this is but one of many shapes in which the same thought 
 comes up to trouble me ! In yielding to this passion for solitude 
 in communing, perhaps selfishly, with my own thoughts, in pre 
 ference to associating with friends and companions in writing, 
 spiritually though it be, to you, in preference to thinking tenderly 
 of him I seem to myself to be doing wrong. Is it so ? Can I 
 divide my two natures, and rightfully pour my spirit's reserve 
 freely out to you, while I give to him who thinks me all his own, 
 only the every-day affection which he seems alone to value ? Yet 
 the best portion of my nature would be unappreciated else the 
 noblest questionings of my soul would be without response the 
 world I most live in would be utterly lonely. I fear to decide 
 the question yet. I am too happy in writing to you. I will defer 
 it, at least, till I have sounded the depths of the well of angels 
 from which I am now quenching my thirst till I know all the joy 
 and luxury which, it seems to me, the exchange of these inner 
 most breathings of the soul can alone give.
 
 THE NEED OF TWO LOVES. 363 
 
 You are waking, Ernest, I well know. With this fragrant air 
 and this thought-stirring moon, you would not sleep. I have re 
 quested you to keep me in ignorance of where you are whether 
 far away or near and of all that could modify or conflict with 
 my fancy's conception of you. But, wherever. you are, the lus 
 trous orb that throws a beam in at my window, throws another 
 to your upward eye, and by these electric threads, joined in the 
 luminous circle of the moon, thought passes between us. Oh, 
 how beautiful were the words in which you clothed one of these 
 thoughts your thought and mine iu the poem which came yes 
 terday ! How adorable is the gift, thus to be able to transfer 
 them, in unchanged eloquenca, from the inarticulate world of re 
 verie to the language in which others can share them ! Angelic 
 poet ! Glorious master of two existences, and beautiful in both ! 
 Accept my appreciation and my homage ! Listen to me, over 
 this arch of moonbeams, built radiantly between us ! 
 
 Ah me ! these are strange words that I have written. My 
 flushed cheek betrays to me that my spirit draws my heart along 
 with its dreamtide ! I should not write to you withthis trembling 
 hand, aud these impassioned syllables. I must drop my curtain 
 and shut out this moon, and still my disturbed spirit. I will try 
 to sleep. Good night, Ernest, and may the calm angels that 
 watch over us, bring to you the inspired visions for which you 
 
 wait, and tranquil dreams to 
 
 t 
 Your spirit worshipper, 
 
 ERMENGARDE. 
 
 The letter which follows was not in reply to the foregoing. It 
 was written after several had been exchanged on, the subject to
 
 364 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 which it mainly refers, as best explaining the feelings entertained 
 by the writer toward her whom he addressed : 
 
 ERNEST TO ERMENGARDE. 
 
 You refuse to let me once rest my eyes upon you. I can 
 understand that there might be a timidity in the first thought of 
 meeting one with whom you had corresponded without acquaint 
 ance, but it seems to me that a second thought must remind you 
 how much deeper and more sacred than " acquaintance," our 
 interchange of sympathies has been. Why, dear Ermengarde, 
 you know me better than those who see me every day. My 
 most intimate companion knows me less. Even she to whom I, 
 perhaps, owe all confidence, and who might weep over the reser 
 vation of what I have shared with you, had she the enlargement 
 of soul to comprehend it even she knows me but as a child 
 knows the binding of a book, while you have read me well. 
 Why should you fear to let me once take your features into my 
 memory, that -this vague pain of starry distance and separation 
 may be removed or lessened ? 
 
 I must see you. I have thought, as you know, that we could 
 realise a presence by exchange of thought that the eyes need 
 have* no part in the interchange of minds. I even took pleasure 
 in believing that I had, in this common-place and material 
 world, one viewless link one friendship with a spirit, of whom 
 my mortal eyes knew nothing. But I was wrong. I feel, now, 
 that I have more noed than others to see you, since I know, more 
 than others, what your features should confirm and interpret. 
 There is a point, in mere intellectual appreciation, where the 
 heart irresistibly comes in, and demands to see, with real eyes,
 
 THE NEED OF TWO LOVES. 365 
 
 the form in which is enshrined such an idol. That the reverse is 
 also true that mere thoughtless affection comes to a point where 
 the mind demands that it, too, shall have something to worship 
 is a more frequent discovery in intimacies. But I will not misre 
 present my present impulse by coldly reasoning upon it. It is 
 struggling in my heart, and pleading earnestly to see you. Will 
 you longer deny me, dear Ermengarde ? 
 
 By your sweet confirmation of the truthfulness of my poem, in 
 your last letter, I was deeply touched. There was that in it 
 which I felt to be simply sincere, and which proved to me that I 
 have in you the treasure without which a poet cannot live entire 
 appreciation by one mind and heart. I had wanted this oh, 
 how painfully and deeply till you first wrote to me ! Criticism, 
 and success over competitors had satisfied me that what I wrote 
 was truly measured, but I needed to know that it was also /e$, 
 and that I was loved for writing it. The world's admission of the 
 poet's merit is vague and cold. There are hours when he can nei 
 ther realize n6r believe it. But in the sweet praise of one to 
 whose heart his meanings have gone home one who recognizes, 
 by the inner woof of her own spirit, the fibre from which his 
 Charmed words were spun one who sees his better nature when 
 ^ she looks upon him, and thinks of his best gifts first, at the mo 
 ments when he comes up to her memory in such an appreciator, 
 kind and ever ready to encourage and commend, the poet feels 
 his best happiness bound up. He turns to her from the world. 
 He thinks of her in sadness. He writes with her sweet eyes 
 looking on. Other affections may employ his instinctive tender 
 ness, and his gay and thoughtless hours ; but, in his soul's retire 
 ment he asks for an interpreter who can enter with him for the 
 sweet reader of what common affections never reach.
 
 366 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 I feel that you will not persist in refusing me. With thoughts 
 so genial and sympathetic as yours, there must be a heart of 
 kindness beating in unison, and I cannot long plead earnestly in 
 yain. Tell me but where you are, and by what name you are 
 known to those who are so blessed as to look upon you, and I will 
 fly to your side, or arrange to meet you, with as guarded delicacy 
 as you will. Only let me once see you- once take and treasure 
 your living image in my soul's memory and I ask no more. 
 Hear me, dear Ermengarde, and let me write myself, not alone 
 your unseen poet, but 
 
 Your friend. ERNEST. 
 
 ' There was an arrival of two Quaker ladies and a young gen 
 tleman at the Astor (Mrs. and Miss Tevis, and Mr. F. Brown, 
 as it read on the register) one lovely evening in June. The 
 ladies had come down from Rockybrook " to shop," and as Mrs. 
 Tevis had chanced to hear that " friend Frank" was also medi 
 tating a journey to town, she had bespoke his protection and com 
 pany, though (a little to her surprise) Lilian had not seemed 
 positively pleased when this accidental good fortune was first 
 announced. 
 
 Spite of Lilian's perverseness, however, Frank had succeeded 
 in making the journey agreeable his high spirits and privil .: <1 
 ease of manner, acting with their usual charm on the quiet 
 reserve of the lovely Quakeress, and, to the mother's eye, all 
 things flowing with a full tide in the current of an understood 
 affection. Lilian had had many a restless misgiving, notwith 
 standing, as she sat on the steamer's deck, listening to the arnus-
 
 THE NEED OF TWO LOVES. 367 
 
 ing chat of her presumed lover. She was going to town on a 
 concealed errand. It was after writing a reluctant assent to the 
 fervent plea of her secret correspondent for a meeting, that she 
 had expressed the wish for a journey, which had led her mother 
 to discover some necessities that were before unthought of, for a 
 shopping visit to JN T ew York. Mrs. Tevis needed seldom more 
 than a hint to anticipate or guess at her daughter's wishes, and 
 she had foreshadowed this one, with that unconscious maternal 
 clairvoyance, which all who have had such mothers will under 
 stand. 
 
 Lilian felt, by no means, certain that she should not confide 
 her secret to Frank before its purpose was carried out. She 
 longed to do so. Her deeply cherished habit of affection for him 
 seemed to claim a confidence on the subject as his right, while, on 
 the other hand, she both feared his disapproval, and dreaded that 
 he might fancy it to be a coquetry intended to bring him to an 
 avowal. That she had secretly corresponded with another, had 
 admired that other for exactly the qualities which Frank seemed 
 entirely deficient in, and that she was about to see his rival, and 
 weigh, one against the other, the attractions of the two were 
 truths which could be made to wear a very culpable aspect, 
 though an almost irresistible instinct prompted her to divulge all. 
 She had not owned to herself that she loved this unseen poet. It 
 was the theory by wbich she kept up her self-justification, that a 
 friendship growing out of mere interchange of thoughts, need not 
 interfere with the constancy of an affection founded on such inti 
 macy as hers with Frank. She sighed only, in trying to separate 
 the two, that their qualities were not combined in one. That a 
 lover who had the winning and attaching every-day qualities of 
 Frank Brown, could not also be a high-soulod poet, alive to the
 
 3G3 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 loftier and more elevating converse of the soul, seemed to lier in 
 accordance with that universal imperf'ectness of human allotment, 
 over which philosophers and bards have, from time immemorial, 
 made moan. She only hoped that in this secret intellectual inti 
 macy, she was not cultivating an ideal preference which would 
 make her real love seem poor and insufficient. How the two 
 Ernest and Frank would compare, as real men, was the problem 
 which entirely occupied her, at present, and which the interview 
 of the next morning was most excitingly to solve. 
 
 The breakfast of the three visitors from Rockybrook, at the 
 Astor House table, was inexplicably embarrassed by reserve, on 
 the day which was to bring Lilian and Ernest for the first time 
 together. Mrs. Tevis concluded that the lovers had had a quar 
 rel. After making several efforts to enliven the conversation, she 
 discreetly gave it up, biding her time for an explanation. Lilian 
 looked flushed and restless. She feared momently that Frank 
 would propose some engagement which would make it necessary 
 to plead other occupation for that day. He was, fortunately, 
 silent as to the disposal of her morning, however. His own. 
 business in town seemed to be the only matter in his thoughts. 
 They rose from table and separated, to Lilian's infinite relief, 
 with only a mention of meeting again for dinner. 
 
 To be disembarrassed of her mother's presence, by sending 
 her out to make some purchases, upon which she pleaded want 
 of spirits to accompany her, was Lilian's first move after break 
 fast. She did this with a self-reproach and unwillingness which
 
 THE NEED/)F TWO LOVES. 369 
 
 almost brought her to an outpouring of her heart's whole secret 
 to her mother, but the undercurrent of her destiny prevailed. 
 With a kiss and a careful injunction to her that she should take 
 a book and read away her melancholy mood, Mrs. Tevis closed 
 the door upon her daughter, and she was left to the fulfillment 
 of her engagement, without dread or interruption. 
 
 It lacked but a few minutes of eleven, when Lilian descended 
 to the ladies' drawing-room of the Astor. She found it, as she 
 had presumed she should do, and as it usually is at that hour of 
 the morning, deserted. The deep window looking out upon St. 
 Paul's leafy church-yard, was unoccupied, and it was here that 
 she was to sit, as the clock -istruok eleven, and, with a book 
 pressed to her lips as an indication that she was " Ermengarde," 
 and that " Ernest" was at liberty to approach and address her as 
 an acquaintance. Everything looked fortunately conspiring to 
 give pleasure to the interview. Not a guest had chanced to re 
 main, to overhear the conversation which would needs be embar 
 rassing enough, even were they alone ; the shutters had been 
 closed to a twilight dimness by the servants ; and the air of the 
 morning was of the genial and sweet temperature which favors 
 the interchange of the sympathies. The lovely and trembling 
 Quakeress of Rockybrook thought she never had breathed air 
 more delicious in a city though she recognized its balm. 
 
 It lacked one minute to eleven. Was she watched ? A head 
 was certainly thrust past the opening of the door, and as certainly 
 it seemed to her that it was the quick movement of her lover's. 
 How unspeakably embarrassing would be his entrance at that 
 moment ! How should she explain her interview with a stranger ? 
 By what name knowing only the name of " Ernest " for him 
 whom she expected should she introduce to Frank Brown the 
 10* '
 
 370 FUN JOTTINGS. 
 
 person with whom he would find her in conversation ? Alas 
 these were difficulties against which she had neglected to provido 
 The punishment of her culpable concealments seemed now to be 
 inevitably upon her. Her heart, for that minute of suspense, 
 came to a stand still. 
 
 Eleven ! She closed her eyes and pressed the book to her 
 lips, and, with her face turned away from the opening door, 
 awaited the approach of an entering and hesitating step, which 
 she overheard as the slow clock pealed out its heavy reverbera 
 tions. How should she speak ! Her breath choked with the 
 quick pantings in her throat. She crowded the volume convul 
 sively to her lips, and dropped her head in utter confusion upon 
 her bosom. 
 
 But the step was near her. One whom she did not dare to 
 look on, had approached, and now stood silent and motionless 
 behind her. Another moment of stillness that seemed an eter 
 nity to Lilian, and she felt a warm breath upon her temple. 
 
 " Ermengarde !" said a low voice, and, to her sudden and utter 
 consternation, a kiss was impressed upon her cheek, and an en 
 closing arm drew her into its embrace ! 
 
 " Frank !" 
 
 " Lilian ! 
 
 And the revelation of the -mystery dawned on the mind of the 
 astonished girl, for, in a voice of half-mischief, and half-tender 
 ness, he said : 
 
 " Not Frank, but 'Ernest !' 
 
 In the tight clasp of the lovers to each other's arms, which 
 occupied the next minute, there was not much explanation but 
 there was no end to their wondering, afterward, how they possibly 
 could have been so in the dark as to their respective inner cha-
 
 THE NEED OF TWO LOVES. 371 
 
 racters, how they should have lacked the confidingness to mingle 
 intellects as well as* am use in cuts and idle nothings, and how they 
 could have thought themselves lovers with the reserves which 
 they had cherished for other sympathies and admirations. It 
 served them as a lesson in the capability of one love for all the 
 interchanges of mind and heart, and taught them what might 
 have been deferred till it was far more difficult to lear-n that it 
 is lest to be sure, before going abroad fur new varieties of happi 
 ness, that the material for what we desire is not in the bosom that 
 already belongs to us. As a wife to the poet and to the man, 
 Lilian easily and well played her part, and it was hard for either 
 to tell in which of the two characters of the other, life found its 
 more urgent want replied to.
 
 N. P. WILLIS 9 S SSLSGT WORKS, fli UNIFORM I2MO. VGLS, 
 
 RURAL LETTERS, AND OTHER RECORDS OF THOUGHTS AT 
 
 LEISURE, embracing Letters from under a Bridge, Open Air Musinga in the City t 
 "Invalid Ramble in Germany," "Letters from Watering Places," &c., &c. 1 vol 
 Fourth Edition. 
 
 * There is scarcely a page In it in which the reader will not remember, and tnrn to again 
 with a fresh sense of delight It bears the imprint of nature in her purest and most joy 
 ous forms, and under her most cheering and inspiring influences." 2f. Y, Tribune. 
 
 " If we would show how a modern could write with the ease of Cowley, most gentle 
 lover of nature's gardens, and their fitting accessaries from life, -we would offer this volume 
 as the best proof that the secret has not yet died out." Literary World. 
 
 PEOPLE I HAVE MET, or Pictures of Society and People of Mark drawn under a 
 thin veil of fiction. By N. P. WILLIS. 1 vol., 12uio. Third Edition. 
 
 " It is a collection of twenty or more of the stories which have blossomed out from the 
 Bummer soil of the author's thoughts within the last few years. Each word in some of 
 them the author seems to have picked as daintily, for its richness or grace, or its fine fit 
 ness to his purpose, as if a humming-bird were picking upon his quivering wing the 
 flower whose sweets he would lovingly rifle, or a belle were culling the stones for her 
 bridal necklace." Jf. Y. Independent. 
 
 "The book'embraces a great variety of personal and social sketches in the Old World, 
 end concludes with some thrilling reminiscences of distinguished ladies, including the 
 Belles of New York, etc." Tfo Republic. 
 
 LIFE HERE AND THERE, or Sketches of Society and Adventure .at far-apart time* 
 and places. By H. P. WILLIS. \ vol., 12ino. 
 
 "This very agreeable volume consists of sketches of life and adventure, all of them, the 
 author assures us, having a foundation strictly historical, and to a great extent autobiogra 
 phical. Such of these sketches as we have read, are in Mr. Willis's happiest vein a vein, 
 by the way, in which he is unsurpassed." SartaMn Magazine. 
 
 " Few readers who take up this pleasant volume will lay it aside until they have perused 
 every line of its contents." Jersey Journal. 
 
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 By N. P. WILLIS. 1 voL, 12mo. Third Edition. 
 
 " Some of the best specimens of Mr. Willis's prose, we think, are herein obtained." 
 2f. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 "In the present volume, which is filled with allsorte .">* enticements, we prefei the 
 descriptions of nature to the sketches of character, and tc tfusty road-side grows delight 
 ful under the touches of Willis's blossoming-dropping pen ; and when we come to th 
 mountain and lake, it is like revelling in all the fragrant odors n" far *dia*.' % -JBostot* Atlas.
 
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 suffers by a comparison with similar pages in Tacitus." N. Y. Evening Post. 
 
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 acquaintance." Cleveland Herald 
 
 Whatever critics may choose to say, Mr. H. will never lack readers. The stir [><* fire 
 of his descriptions will touch a popular chord. In describing the battlo field h. 1,1 
 tumultuous stirring life of the camp, Mr. H. is what Cooper was upon the Sea A A 
 Sear &t
 
 LIVING ORATORS OF AMERICA. By Rev. E. L MAGOON. 1 vol. 12mo., f 1th 
 portraits. Price, $1 25. 
 
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 MAGOON. 1 voL 12mo., with portraits. Price, $1 25. 
 
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 them, are peculiar and striking. Jf. Y. Evangelist. 
 
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 of the men whose history he has delineated, that will cause the book to bu read with un 
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 contrasted and compared, that the peculiar powers ami excellencies of each are set heforo 
 the mind hi a strong light Springfield Republican, 
 
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 THE WOMEN OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. By Mrs. E F. KLIJCT. 
 8 vols. 12mo., with portraits. Price, $3 50. 
 
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 boon made to the history of our country in a long time. Hunt's Magazine. 
 
 We counsel especially the young women of our country to lay aside their novels, at 
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 tbo toils, the privations and dangers of the war, made themselves felt, perhaps even more 
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 These sketches are of thrilling interest, as we gather from a hasty glance at their page*. 
 Tta narrative is clear, concise, atd very agreeably written. N. B. Mercury.
 
 THE PLANETARY AND STELLAR WORLDS; A Popular Exposition of th 
 Great Discoveries and Theories of Modern Astronomy. In a Series of Ten Lecture? 
 By ProC O. M. MITCHELL. 1 voL 12mo. Price, $1 25. 
 
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 LECTURES ON SHAKSPEARE. By II. N. HUDSON. 2 vols., 12mo. Price, $2 50. 
 
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 the size ever published In the country, have been the slow product of so much toil of 
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 dor and intensity of expression. Indeed, none of our critics have devoted so much time HS 
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 Mr. Hudson has here brought together not only ail the authentic toots that have come 
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 We regard It as decidedly the ablest and most valuable boo'c of criticism ever published 
 IB this countf j - Couritr and Enquirer
 
 LECTURES ON ART AND POEMS. By WASHINGTON ALLSTON. Edited )>y 
 Eichard Henry Dana, Jr. Contents Lectures on Art, pages 3-167 Aphorisms, sen 
 tences written by Mr. Allstou on the walls of his Studio, pages 167-179 The Hypo 
 chondriac, pages 179-199 Poems, pages 199-317. 1 voL liimo. Trice, $1 25. 
 
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 bad mind to perceive and skill to portray much that is unseen by ordinary mi ads, as well 
 us intelligence and power to exhibit whatever is grand and beautiful both in the physical 
 and moral world." Christian Observer. 
 
 "These oro the records of one of the purest spirits and most exalted geniuses of which 
 tliis country can boast. The intense love of the beautiful, the purity, grace and gentleness 
 which made him incomparably the finest artist of the age, lend their charm and their 
 power to these productions of his pen. * * * There are in his poems feeling, delicacy, 
 taste, and the keenest sense of harmony which render them faultless.'' JV. Y. Evangelist. 
 
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 creation." Albany Argus. 
 
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 "His lectures possess great attractions for every one aiming at cultivation of mind and 
 refinement of taste, while his poems, which elicited so high praise when published singly, 
 are sure to receive it when as now embodied in a more classic form." Natcliez Courier. 
 
 u The lovers of American literature and art will rejoice in the possession of these ma 
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 " In addition to the Poems and Trose Writings included in the former edition of his 
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 tributed to different periodicals, some of them as much as thirty years sin :c, and now re- 
 published for the first time as the expression of the Inmost soul, these writings bear 
 strong stamp cf originality." N. Y. Tribune.
 
 RURAL HOMES; OB, SKETCHES Or HOUSES suited to American Country Life. 
 With over 70 Original Plans, Designs, &c. By GEKVASK WIIEELKR. 1 voL 12uio. 
 Price, $1,25. 
 
 It commences with the flrst foot-tread upon the spot choscu for the house; details th 
 considerations that should weigh in selecting the site; gives models of nuiMinsrs diUVriMg 
 In character, extent, and cost*; shows how to harmonize the building with the surrounding 
 s.-eiicry ; teaches now healthfully to warm and ventilate; assists in selecting furniture and 
 tbe innumerable articles of utility and ornament used in constructing and finishing, and 
 concludes with final practical directions, giving useful limits as to drawing up written Je- 
 ecriptions, specifications and contracts. 
 
 " In this neat and tasteful volume, Mr. Wheeler has condensed the results of an accom 
 plished training in his art, and the liberal professional practice of it 
 
 " "We can confidently recommend this elaborate production to the attention of <rrnt!c- 
 men who ar* about building oc renovating their country houses, to professional architects, 
 and to all readers of discrimination, who wish to know what is truly eloquent in this U-uu- 
 tifnl art, and to cultivate a taste worthy to cope with "judgment of wisest censure." 
 
 "The cost of such establishments is carefully considered, no less than the comforts they 
 should afford, the display they can (honestly) pretend to, and all the adjuncts that go to 
 complete tho ideal of a convenient and elegant mansion." AT. Y. Mirror. 
 
 "It is extremely practical, containing such simple and comprehensive directions for all 
 wishing at any time to buiM, being in fact the sum of the author's study and ex|H!rionw as 
 an architect for many years." Albany Spectator. 
 
 " Mr. Wheeler's remarks convey much practical and useful information, evincn good 
 taste and a proper appreciation of the beautiful, and no one should build a rural house 
 without flrst hearing what ho has to recommend." Philadelphia PreT>ytti-i<tn. 
 
 " Important in its subject, careful and ample in its details, and charmingly attractive in 
 Its style. It gives all the information that would he desired as to the selection of sites 
 the choice of appropriate styles, tho particulars of plans, materials, fences, gateways, furni 
 ture, wanning, ventilation, specifications, contracts, Ac., concluding with a chapter on the 
 Intellectual and moral effect of rural architecture," Hartford Rtliyiou* Uerakl. 
 
 "A book very much needed, for it teaches people how to build comfortable, sensible, 
 beautiful country bouses. Its conformity to common sense, as well as to the sense 4 
 beauty, cannot be too much commended." 2f. Y. Courier & Enquirer, 
 
 "No person can read this book without gaining much useful knowledge, and It will be a 
 great aid to those who intend to build houses for their own use. It is scientific without 
 being so interlarded with technical terms as to confuse the reader, and contains all the in- 
 formatum necessary to build a house from the cellar to the nd^e pole. It is a parlor book, 
 or a book for the workshop, and will be valuable in either place." Bujfitlo Commi'r <-i,ii. 
 
 "This work should le in the hands of every one who contemplates building for himse'f 
 home. It is filled with beautifully executed elevations and plans of country houses from 
 the most unpretending eottatro to the villa. Its contents are simple and comprehensiva, 
 embnioiiiir every variety of house usually needed." Loir, /I OouHi /: 
 
 "To all who desire a delightful rnral retreat of "lively enttac^ly" of irettins a fair qniv- 
 alent of comfort and taste-fulness, for a moderate outlay, wo commend the Kural Homes of 
 Mr. Wheeler." A' Y Eefiiing Post.
 
 MARVEL'S 
 
 EDITION or 
 
 REVERIES OF A BACHELOR, a Book of the Heart. By IK. MARVEL. 1 nil 
 
 12mo., with Illustrations by DAULF.Y. 
 
 The Illustrated Edition, with Twenty-five Illustrations, will be road/ about the iniddla 
 of October. 
 
 " Qnotations give but a faint" idea of the depth of feeling, the beantifal and winning 
 frankness, the elastic vigor of soul, and the singular fidelity of expression which charac 
 terize this remarable volume. Its quaint ingenuity of arringement is wholly lost in 
 extracts; and in order to enjoy the delicious adaptation of form to sentiment in which it 
 would be hard to name its equal, it must be read as a consummate, artistic, gem-like 
 whole." X Y. Tribune. 
 
 "The dreamy, shadowy haze of reverie, Its fleet transitions, Its vivid and startling pas 
 sages more vivid, oftentimes, than anything of real life are admirably reproduced on 
 these delicate pages. The dense and deliberate style, though nowise itself dreamy and 
 insubstantial, dealing largely rather ir. the tongh and oaken Saxon, that makes the strength 
 of our hardy tongue, is adapted with admirable pliancy to the movement and tone of the 
 fancy. There are passages in it as those descriptive of early separations, schooldays and 
 their sequel that will start the memory, with a quick throb, in many hearts. And there 
 aro essential and permanent qualities exhibited in it, both of intellect and of sensibility, 
 that give noble promise of a future, and that will make the subsequent publications of the 
 author events to be watched for." Independent. 
 
 The writer who can lure a few of his fellow mortals away from the bustle, and 
 the strife, and the fret, and the wear and tear of a restless existence who can plant them 
 In his own quiet arm-chair, and think a Sittle for them so easily and so cosily that they 
 shall fancy his thoughts to be their own soliloquies who can carry them off from the 
 engrossing present, backward to the fullness of youth, or forward to the repose of age 
 vho can peel off, here and there, the worldly rind that grUws ever-thickening over the 
 heart, growing fastest and thickest in the hothouses of fashion, and in the rank soil of 
 wealth the writer, we say, who can do this Mr. Ik. Marvel decs it in his Reveries shall 
 be welcomed to a place in our regards, and cordially recommended to oui readers' book- 
 helves." Albion. 
 
 " This is a pleasant and clever book ; racy, genial, lively and sparkling. It is a book to 
 put one in good humor with himself and all the world." SoutJiern Literary Gazette. 
 
 "It is an exquisite production, the like of which the press has not produced in this 
 country or in England. Portions of it remind ns forcibly of some of the old, and almost 
 unknown French authors, whose sketches >f thought and feeling we have never seen 
 equalled for delicacy and truth, until we i>ad these Reveries. The book is especially 
 welcome as one of a new class in this country, which appeals to all the finer feelings of the 
 heart." Journal of Commerce. 
 
 ""Well has the author called it a book of the heart Not of a Jieart withered by selfish 
 ness, mistaking disappointment for sorrow, r>.<itred of the world's joys for philosophic con 
 tempt ; but a generous, noble heart, that has sorrowed as we have sorrowed, that can echo 
 back from the distant hills of its own experience our own cries now cf joy, now oi giiel 
 and our songs oi quiet happiness." 2f. Y. Courier and' Inquirer.
 
 DREAM LIFE : A Fable of the Seasons. By IK. MABVBL. 1 vol. 12mo. 
 
 A charmingly designed and beautifully written book. It will add to his pi jvious repu 
 tation. The Church/nan. 
 
 It is written in the same' vein as the "Reveries of a Bachelor," by the same ai*hor, but 
 la on the whole a better book. Jf. Y. Daily Times. 
 
 FRESH GLEANINUS,oraNewSleai from the Oil Field ot ContirentalEnroi a By 
 IK. MABVEL. 1 voL, 12mo. 
 
 "This book should be read by all who can appreciate a style fall of grace, In a fanposl 
 lion replete with original and striking thoughts." Boston Journal. 
 
 "Agreeable, quaint, humorous, philosophical, pathetic, charming, glorious Ik. Marvel! 
 It is as refreshing to the mind, wearied with the thrice-told insipidities 01' continental 
 travel to dip into his fresh sparkling pages, as a plunge, this hot weather, into tbe cold, 
 diamond, deer-haunted waters of some mountain lake. "We have turned over his soft, 
 thick, dainty pages, and our eye has glided along the stream of his bright descriptions, 
 pleasant thoughts, humorous expressions, and characters painted with a lew light touches, 
 like daguerreotype portraits very Sterne-like and exceedingly fine until arriving at the 
 end we are startled at the rapidity with which the fret of Time, flower-muffled, have trod 
 den." Albany Atlas. 
 
 "A series of the liveliest, newest, most taking and most graphic sketches of out of tbe 
 way scenes, character and incidents, that were ever done up between a pair of bookbinder's 
 covers." Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 " This Is decidedly the most agreeable book of the season. It reminds one by an occa- 
 siona! association of ideas, rather than resemblance, of imitation of Sterne's Sentimental 
 Journey, and some of Longfellow's transatlantic sketches ; but its freshness, its variety, 
 graphic descriptive power, and genial sympathies, are all its own." Buffalo Advertiser. . 
 
 TrJE BATTLE SUMMER. Being Transcripts faom Personal Observation in Paris 
 during the year 1S4S. By IE. MASVEU With Illustrations by DAKLEY. 1 vol., 12ui9 
 
 " It Is a series of pictures sketches of scenes which passed under the author's eye. It 
 Is most ably done, and shows tbe hand of one gifted with genius and destined to make his 
 nark on the literature of his country." N. T. Courier and Enquirer 
 
 u The book Is filled with a series of pictures and sketches more graphic It would be diffl 
 ealt to find." New York Recorder. 
 
 "Like a talented and enthusiastic artist, he placed himself in toe best positions, and 
 caught the lineaments of each scene to be transferred to his canvas. * * * lu trutli, h 
 has furnished a gallery of portraits which are very liie like." Pre&yteria.'n. 
 
 " An elaborate history would fail to convey so vivid and truthful a conception oi the 
 rise, progress and manner of the ' second reign of terror' as is to be obtained from this work.' 
 Portland Transcript. 
 
 " It Is by far the most able and most Impressive account ot the scenes fa Paris, and 
 reveals a power of description that will give the author a tame." *V. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 IK. MARVEL'S WORKS. Uniform voluro<a. Style for Libraries,
 
 LIEUT. LYNGH'S NEW WORK. 
 
 NAVAL LJFE THE MIDSHIPMAN; or Observations Afloat and Ashore. By 
 LIUT. W. F. LYNOII, autnor of " Dead Sea Expedition." 1 vol. 12mo. Price, $1. 
 
 "The style is spirited and commanding, tie matter of the most exciting character, and 
 tilt deductions often drawn from incident and adventure worthy of the head and tho heart 
 of the author." American Spectator. 
 
 "Amid the rollicking and exciting scenes, so characteristic of a life on the ocean wave* 
 the author has introduced others of a more subdued kind passages here and there of 
 touching pathos little gushings from the fount of a chastened and sensitive nature, be 
 traying a heart susceptible to the higher and better feelings that adorn and dignify man." 
 Weekly JSclectic. 
 
 " The adventures he and his shipmates met with in various quarters of the globe, are 
 narrated in an unpretending style, but with graphic power. Several of these narrations 
 are of exciting interest, and they so closely follow each other, that the reader will find it 
 Impossible to lay down the book until he has reached the last page." Portland Tran- 
 
 BCl'ijit. 
 
 " This is a delightful matter-of-fact volume, tor which we predict a great many readers." 
 Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 " It is a work which docs credit to the moral and literary character of the navy." N. 
 Y. Evangelist. 
 
 " It is well written, avoiding coarseness and slang, and will be a pleasant companion for 
 the winter evenings." Cincinnati Ilerald. 
 
 "The author has a great variety of experience, and he has made out of it not only an 
 agreeable but instructive book." Albany Argun. 
 
 " It is lilled with lively portraitures of naval life, and must be read with interest both 
 by seamen and landsmen." N. Y. Tribune. 
 
 "This is a pleasing book, abundantly teeming with the thrilling jasimlties of 'hair 
 breadth 'scapes' which beset the paths of those who plough the enehafcd bosom of the 
 deep, and is strikingly characterized by the winning graces of modesty of tone and a i- 
 tiued simplicity of narration." Washington Republic. 
 
 ANNALS OF THE QUEENS OF SPAIN. By ANITA GEOEGK 2 vote. 12mo. 
 Price, $2 50. 
 
 "Of the manner in which she has performed her task, it is enough to say that she baa 
 won the distinguished commendation of Wm. II. Prescott ' N. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 "Mrs. George follows steadily the highway of her subject without diverging to any by 
 paths of. speculation and illustration. Her object appears to be, to give as much informa 
 tion as possible in small compass, in which she succeeds." Literary World. 
 
 "The authoress has worked her way throuah the scattered rubbish of the past and pro 
 duced a work of immediate and lasting interest" Bangor Courier. 
 
 "The work is written in a clear and vivacious style, and Is an accession to the popular 
 literature." Prairie Herald.
 
 HERBERT'S NEW WORK. 
 
 THE CAPTAINS OF THE OLD WORLD Their Campaigns Character, and 
 
 Conduct as compared with the great modern Strategists From the I 'union Wars to 
 the end of the Roman Republic. By HEN BY W. HEKBEKT. 1 voL 12uio., with illus 
 trations, cloth. Price, $1 25. 
 
 COME.NTS. The Military Art among the Greeks and Romans Miltiades, the KOI ofCl- 
 mon His battle of Marathon Themistocles, his sea-light off Salamis, <fec. 1'ausanias, 
 the Spartan ; his battle of I'lataia, fec. Xenophon, the Athur:ia:i ; nis retreat of tho 
 Ten Thousand. &c. Kpaminondas, his Campaigns, battle of Leuktra and Mantineli. 
 Alexander of Macedon, his battles of the Granikos, Issos, and Arbela, tfcc. -Hannibal, 
 ln !>att;es of the i icinus, Trebbia, 1 hrasymene, and Canae. 
 
 "The tlieme is full of interest, to which Mr. Herbert's known literary ability and c!ax-i- 
 <~ll taste may be expected to give due exposition. The work is an original one the ma 
 terial of which he claims to derive, not from modern books, but from the ancient authentic 
 sources of history which he has examined for himself." U. 8, Gazette & -A". American, 
 
 "Mr. Herbert has succeeded admirably and has produced a work that will entitle him 
 to a high rank with the best authors of his native and his adopted country." Syracuae 
 Star. 
 
 "The exploits of those captains are detailed, whose achievements exerted the most 
 powerful influence on the destinies of tho world. The author is a well-read historian, und 
 lias contemplated the events lie describes with the eye of a philosopher and scholar." 
 P'uliK/cljtkiit Pren : yterian. 
 
 "This is a powerful and brilliant delineation of the captains of the Old World it opens 
 with tire three great Wars of Greece, and traces the course of Hannibal in the most capti 
 vating style." 1 Albany Spectator. 
 
 "To a nervous and pointed style the author adds the research of a scholar and the en- 
 thi.M.-u-iH of a man of action. The strategies of warfare the arming of troops, and the 
 Btern conflicts of man with man, are of course congenial subjects to one whose knowledge 
 cf skill in woodcraft is proverbial, and Mr. Herbert consequently enters into them with 
 gusto and with clearness of perception," Tfie Albion. 
 
 "This volume which is intended to be the first of a series, Includes reven of the greatest 
 generals of antiquity, beginning with .V iltiades and ending with Hannibal. The facts are all 
 drawn fro;n the most authentic sources, and the characters displayed with uncommon 
 skill anil effect It was a bright thought, the bringing together of these illustrious name* 
 In one group." Albany Argus. 
 
 "The writer draws a comparison between them and the jrreat modern strategists, and 
 gives an exceedingly interesting and graphic picture of the celebrated conflicts of olden 
 times from the Persian wars to the I'unic wars." JV. Y. Observer, 
 
 "This is an unique and able work. It displays sound and varied scholarship, united 
 With a knowledge of the military art rarefy possessed by a civilian. There is a truth and 
 - .ibotit the descriptions that show the author to be no second-hand compiler, but 
 one -vho has drawn his knowledge from a careful study of the Greek and Roman historians 
 In their native garb. We would recommend this work to the attention of the youn;: stu 
 dent, :ts a better manual of antiquities relative to the military art, than any set treatise on 
 th? subject, while its views of historical epovhs and political relations are equally valuable 
 and trn-l worthy. His aivt'ysis of the character and strategy >f ihe Tuat Ciptiy'n.-i of act) 
 fuiiy U full of interest and instruction.'' A'. Y. Kecvi'der.
 
 BRACE'S HUNGARY IN 1851: With an Experience of the Austrian Police. By 
 GHAKLES LOKINO BHACE. (Beautifully illustrated, with a map of Hungary). 
 
 " Upon the particular field of Hungary, this is by far the most complete and reliable 
 work in the language; a work that all should read who would understand Uie institutions, 
 the character, and the spirit of a people who just now have so urgent a claim on our sym 
 pathy." Jf. F. Independent. 
 
 ' There is probably not a work within the reach of the English scholar that can afford 
 him sud: a satisfactory view of Hungary as it now is. as this work of A'.r. Lracc." Chris- 
 tinn Intelligencer. 
 
 "It will not disappoint public expectation. It bears the strongest evidence of being 
 most reliable in its descriptions and facts." Boston Journal. 
 
 " We have seldom taken in hand a book which bears the reader along with <in interest 
 so intense and sustained.'" Watchman and Reflector. 
 
 " It is a graphic picture of the people and institutions of Hungary at the present moment 
 by one who writes what he saw and heard, and who was well qualified 10 judge." Troy 
 Daily Post. 
 
 " lie mingled much in the social life of every class of the Hungarian people, and there 
 can be no question that he has presented a faithful picture of the condition, manners, cus 
 toms, and feelings of the Magyars." Portland Transcript. 
 
 " The best and most reliable work that we possess, in regard to Hungary as it now Is, 
 and the only one written from personal observation.' 1 Phil. Evening Bulletin. 
 
 " It tells us precisely what the mass of readers wish to know in regard to the condition 
 of Hungary since the Revolution. Having travelled over large portions of the country on 
 foot, and mingling freely with the inhabitants in their houses, the author relates his various 
 expi'riun'-es, many of .which are sufficiently strange to figure in a romance" N~. Y. Tri 
 bune. 
 
 " This book is exceedingly entertaining. These are clear, unambitious narratives, sound 
 views, and abundant information. \Ve get a perspicuous view of the peop'e, life, and 
 character of the country; and learn more of the real condition of things than we could else 
 where obtain." JV Y. Evangelist. 
 
 "Its mrrative is fluent and graceful, and gives the most vivid and complete, and tho 
 most r'lithful picture of Hungary ever presented to American readers." Courier and 
 
 InH'tirer. 
 
 " For gr: phic delineation, and extent of knowledge of the subject described, ?Tr. Brace 
 has 119 equal, at least in print" The Columbian and far West. 
 
 " We h tve read it carefully, and have no hesitation in saying that it presents a complete 
 idea of Hungary and her people as they were and are. Mr. Brace has the happy and rf.rs 
 f.iculty of making the reader see what he saw, and feel what he felt" The Eclectic. 
 
 " He has succeeded in gathering the fullest and most satisfactory amount of information 
 In regard to Hungary that we have seen. His description of the Hungarian Church and 
 the religious character of the people are especially interesting, tmd the whole volume is a 
 valuable addition to our knowledge of the interior of Europe." Watchman and Oli- 
 serrer. 
 
 "This excellent work is not one of proesy details and dry statistics, but is composed of 
 the hi'ist familiar and intimate glimpses of Hungarian life, written in the most graceful 
 style."* Wot'ceater Spy
 
 THE FRUIT GARDEN. BKWMTO EDITION. A Treatise Intended to fllnstnrfa 
 and explain the Physiology of Fruit Trees, tlie Theory anil Practice of al) 
 operiiions connected with the Propagation, Transplanting, Pruning and Trail, i-i-r ->! 
 Orcl.ard and Garden Trees, as Standards, Dwarfs, Pyramids, Kspalii !-, 
 out and arranging different kinds of Orchards and Garden*, tlie selection f 
 suitable vari-.tics for different purposes and localities, gathcrii.ir nn.1 pre.-ei-v 
 Ing Frui'js, Treatment of Disease, Destruction of Insects. Dcst <'.[>: 
 of Implement 1 :. >fce., illus: rated with upward of one hundred ard 1.: 
 Ing different parts of Trees, all Practical Operations, Forms of Ti\. 
 Plantations, Implements, &c. By P. 1'arry, of the Mount Hope Nurseries. Ko, IH-SUT 
 Ke\r York. 1 voL 1 2 mo. 
 
 " It is one of the most thorough works of the kind we have ever seen, dealing in particular 
 (t well as geno-alitie,s, and imparting many valuable hints relative to soil, manures pruning 
 and transplanting." Boston Gazette. 
 
 "A mass of useful infoimation is collected, which will give the work a value even to 
 those who posse.-.-. the beat works on the cultivation of fruit yet published." /" 
 
 POKt. 
 
 "His work is one of the completes!, and, as we have every reason for bo^iuviag, most 
 accurate to bo obtained on the subject. " N. Y. Er,i,' 
 
 "A concise Mannal of the kind hero presented ha* Ions; boon w.intel. an<l we will 
 venture to say that, should this volume be carefully studied jiu.l acted upon by our in 
 dustrious farmer*, the quantity of fruit in the State would be do'iMf! in live y.-:ir-. :ind tha 
 quality, too, ere.itly improved. Hero may bo found advice suited to nTl ernerjren- 
 the gentleman farmer may llnd direction for the .'impli'.-t matters, :us well as tliose wlii^ii 
 trouble older heads. The book, we think, will be found valuable." -V- mt,-lc b>iil'j 
 AdDertixer, 
 
 " It is full of directions as to the management of trees, and bud/, and fruits, and is a 
 valuable and pleasant Cook." AViany Eceniiig Jnurnul. 
 
 " The work is prepared with 'great judgment, and founded on the practical experience 
 of the Author is of far icrc.Jer \alue to the cultivator Uiaii most of tiie n'>;.uUr comj.ihi- 
 tionson the subji-cf N. Y. Tribune. 
 
 This I'.ofik xi>j it!*'** plat-e in fruit cnltnre, and that is s:\ying a gn-nt deal, while we 
 have the popular works of Downing, Tiiomas, and Cole, Mr. liarry ha- 
 hi,:, ,-!fwhi.:li lie occupies with decided skiffand ability. Prairi* Farmer 
 
 Among tlid many works which within a few yeirs have beer brought l>eforo the public 
 lieei^netl t<; give impulse and shape to practical husbandry and hortictiltu,--. 
 
 g very bcsl. It ougiit to be in e.ery liuni'.. 
 L'nited States. AaMalul.; 
 
 It is a manual that ought to be in the possession of every mi that owns a foot 
 -Jf. Y. Observe- 
 
 BotQ to the active fruit grower and the novice in Pomology, this book will be founij 
 Invtil uable. ArUiur't Uom Gazette.
 
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