RAKY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18M, by 
 
 B. P. SIIILLABER, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts 
 
 STEREOTTPED BT 
 
 HOBART 4 ROliBlXS, 
 
 HEW ENGLAND TYPE AM> STEREOTYPE KOl'NDERT. 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 PRINTKD BT 
 
 joni: A. GRAY. 
 
 95 1 97 Cliff St. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 :VERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 HAVTC 
 
<r i t f, 
 
 O -n> ^ 
 
 Cop. 
 
 TO TH ; 
 
 FRIENDS OF MRS. PARTIXGTON. 
 
 WHOSE FAVOR HAS ENCOURAGED 
 
 ; THE OLD LADY 
 IN HER ECCENTRIC SAYINOS, 
 
 THIS VOLUME 
 i "BISPBCTIVELY" DEDICATED. . 
 
PKEFATOKY. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON once declined an introduc 
 tion to a party, because she did not wish to be 
 introduced to any one she was not acquainted 
 with. She needs no introduction now. In all 
 parts of our own land, and over the sea, her 
 name is familiar as a household word; and "as 
 Mrs. Partington would say" forms a tributary 
 clause to many a good story, or an apology for 
 many a bad one; a smile attending the utter 
 ance of the name in evidence of its appreciation. 
 But a preface, of course, is expected ; and so, 
 in the most gentle manner in the world, we will 
 tell to you, reader, a little story about the origin 
 of the Partington sayings, and why they were 
 said, and why they are here collected. Per 
 haps you have guessed it all ; but it is well to 
 be certain. 
 
 In the first place, they were written, as the 
 canine quadruped is said to have gone to church. 
 1* 
 
VI PREFATORY. 
 
 for fun, for the author's own amusement, 
 with a latent hope, however, half indulged, 
 that the big world, which the author very much 
 loves and wishes to please, might : see something 
 in them at which to smile. He was modest in 
 his hope, and hid himself behind an incognito, 
 impenetrable he thought, where he could see the 
 effect of his mild squibs upon the public. The 
 result pleased him, and he kept vigorously blaz 
 ing away, unseen I as much so as the simple 
 bird that thrusts its head under a leaf and fancies 
 itself unobserved ! until they have arisen to a 
 magnitude that some people might deem re 
 spectable. 
 
 The origin and object of the Partington " say 
 ings" being thus described, the motive for*their 
 collection shall be confessed. It is the hope that 
 their author may make a little money on them. 
 He is not so squeamish or pretending as to talk 
 of public good, and public amusement, as his 
 leading motives in the matter ; but if these can be 
 obtained through the publication, he will be most 
 happy. The author confesses to certain pressing 
 contingencies by no means peculiar to him, 
 however, among authors that would be relieved 
 by a generous return for his outlay of time ; and 
 that his pouch may take a more silvery hue from 
 
PREFATORY. VII 
 
 the circulation of his book, is a consummation 
 devoutly, by him, to be wished. 
 
 This motive, so entirely original, for the publi 
 cation of a book, the- author has secured under 
 the guarantee of his copy-right. There might be 
 no necessity for this, wheiu all the rest of the 
 author tribe are writing and printing from higher 
 motives ; but he pleads selfishness, and, like the 
 old lady in her variance with St. Paul, there is 
 where he and they differ. 
 
 Some wiseacre has recently made a discovery, 
 of what we have proclaimed from the outset, that 
 the name of Mrs. Partington was not original 
 with us that Sydney Smith first gave it to the 
 world. Most profound discoverer ! But the 
 character we claim as ours ; and whether it had 
 been embodied in Mrs. Smith, or Brown, instead 
 of Mrs. Partington, would have been immaterial. 
 Those sayings are ours, and we venture to- affirm 
 that Sydney Smith would not lay claim to them 
 from the fact that they were uttered by one of the 
 same name as his heroine of the inop. Because, 
 forsooth, he had spoken of Mrs. Partington's 
 sweeping back the Atlantic with her broom, would 
 he claim the illustrious PAUL, and the roguish 
 ISAAC, and the jocose ROGER, and the great PIH- 
 LANTHROFOS, and the poetical WIDESWAKTH, as his 
 
VIII PREFATORY. 
 
 progeny ? We trow not, even though others 
 might be found ready to do it for him. 
 
 The reputation of Mrs. Partington belongs to 
 the Boston Post, as much as if Sydney Smith had 
 never uttered the name in his great speech in 
 Parliament. 
 
 The character has been drawn from life. The 
 Mrs. Partington we have depicted is no fancy 
 sketch, and no Malaprop imitation, as some have 
 thought who saw in it naught but distorted words 
 and queer sentences. We need no appeal to 
 establish this fact. Mrs. Partington is seen 
 everywhere, and as often without the specs and 
 cap as with them. ; 
 
 There are many matters placed within the cov 
 ers of this book that the sponsor of Mrs. Parting- 
 ton has written beneath the inspiration of her gen 
 iality, to the influence of which alone their merit, 
 if they possess any, is to be attributed. Her por 
 trait looks down upon him now as he writes, and 
 her pleasant voice seems inwoven with the sou 
 chong smile it sheds, and seems to say, 
 
 "PRINT A 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAG* 
 
 THE BIOGRAPHY, . ... 13 
 
 Mild Weather, .47 
 
 The China Question, 49 
 
 Sympathy, 50 
 
 Paul's Ghost, 51 
 
 Ike so Tender-hearted, .... 54 
 
 Look Up, 55 
 
 A Solemn Fact, . . 57 
 
 New Remedy for a Drought, . 58 
 Hear that Voice," ...... 59 
 
 Mm. Partington Penned, ... CO 
 
 The Soda Fountain, 61 
 
 Giving Reasons, . 62 
 
 A Small Trade, ....... 63 
 
 On Locomotion, . 64 
 
 The Largest Liberty, 65 
 
 Mrs. Partington in Court, . . .66 
 
 Right and Left," 67 
 
 A Little Truth well put, . . . 68 
 
 Musical Criticism, .69 
 
 Life on the Road, ...... 70 
 
 Fancy Diseases, ....... 72 
 
 Daguerreotypes 73 
 
 That and That, 74 
 
 Losing by Politeness, ..... 75 
 
 On Politics, ......... 75 
 
 Beautiful Reflection Interrupted, 77 
 Appointing Inspectors, .... 78 
 
 Mrs. Partington at Tea, ... 79 
 Sir, you owe mo a Cent, ... 80 
 
 Guessing at a Xanie, 81 
 
 Burning Water, 82 
 
 FACE 
 
 A Striking Manifestation, . . 83 
 
 Ike and the Elephant 84 
 
 A Substitute, 85 
 
 Wholesome Advice, 86 
 
 A Ghost Story, ....... 87 
 
 A Dangerous Position, .... 89 
 
 A Lesson on Sympathy, ... 90 
 How Ike Dropped the Cat, . . 91 
 
 Stopping a 'Bus, .* 94 
 
 After a Wedding, 95 
 
 Mrs. P. in the Market 96 
 
 Partington Philosophy, .... 97 
 Filial Duty vs. Washing-Powder, 99 
 
 A Serious Question, 100 
 
 Rather a Rascal, 101 
 
 A Bloomer, 102 
 
 Power of Attorney, .... .104 
 The Xew Dress for Ladies, . . 105 
 
 Psychology, 107 
 
 Matter of Fact 108 
 
 The Cat and Kittens, 109 
 
 A Point Settled, 110 
 
 Moral Training, Ill 
 
 A Little Truth, 112 
 
 Hair-dressing, .. . . . . . .113 
 
 Omnibus-riding, 114 
 
 Auriferous Meditations, . . . 116 
 
 Ike and the Oranges, 117 
 
 Patriotism, 118 
 
 Dull Business, . .119 
 
 Antiquity in a Shower, ... 120 
 The National Epic, 121 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 MM 
 
 The Maine Liquor Bill 122 
 
 Take Things Easy, 123 
 
 Carried away with Music, . . 124 
 Mrs. Partington in Trouble, . 125 
 
 Influenza 12C 
 
 An Answer, .126 
 
 Mutton Custard, 127 
 
 The * Religious Test," . . . .128 
 Mrs. P. 'a Idea of Humor, ... 129 
 
 A Great Curiosity, 129 
 
 Mrs. P. on Extradition, . . .130 
 
 Irreverent, 130 
 
 Indignation Meeting, . . . .131 
 How to get out of an Omnibus, 136 
 
 A Literal Construction 137 
 
 A Legitimate Conclusion, ... 138 
 
 An Epigram 138 
 
 Question Answered, 139 
 
 The Test Refused, 139 
 
 A Wholesome Lesson, .... 140 
 A Bootless Case, ....... 141 
 
 Perhaps True, 141 
 
 Old Roger'a New llat, . . . . 142 
 Christmas Reflection, ..... 143 
 Refleetion about Mosquitos, . . 144 
 
 A Passable Joke . 145 
 
 A Porcine Exposure, 146 
 
 A Nare in the Church, .... 147 
 
 A Queer Association 148 
 
 The Pundit Punned, ..... 149 
 
 Punch in the Head 150 
 
 Matter of Fact and Sentiment, 153 
 Commiseration for Clerks, . . 154 
 
 The Bouquet, . 155 
 
 Mrs. P. on Ventilation, . . . 156 
 Our Relations with Mexico, . . 157 
 
 The First of April, 158 
 
 An Inquiry Answered, . . . .159 
 
 Bailed Out, 160 
 
 Have you got a Baby ? . . . .161 
 
 A Home Truth, ....... 162 
 
 A Seasonable Pun, ...... 162 
 
 Varicose Veins, . 163 
 
 Mrs. P. on Vacation, 164 
 
 Torchlight Patriotism, .... 165 
 Mrs. Partington on Suffrage, . 166 
 Down with the Tyrant, .... 107 
 Mrs. P. and the Clerk, .... 168 
 
 Thanksgiving Day, 169 
 
 Peace Inculcated, 172 
 
 Human Nature, 172 
 
 Mr. Steadfast'* Soliloquy, . . 173 
 Mrs. Partington Ruralizing, . 174 
 
 Ventilation, 175 
 
 Letter frotn Ike, 176 
 
 Out of Place, ........ 178 
 
 Tender Names, ....... 179 
 
 Learning to Relish It, .... 180 
 
 Phlebotomy a Disease, .... 181 
 
 Hirsute Ornaments, 182 
 
 Mrs. P. and Probate, 183 
 
 Domestic Purity Impugned, . 184 
 Did it Hurt you Much 1 . . . 185 
 
 " Fare, Ma'am," 189 
 
 Paying Promptly, 190 
 
 " Memento Mory," 191 
 
 Mesmerism,. ....... .192 
 
 A Slight Mistake 193 
 
 Considerably True, 193 
 
 Old Bull's Concert, 194 
 
 Angular Saxons, ...... 195 
 
 Water Gas, .196 
 
 Mrs. Partiogton at the Opera, . 1&7 
 A Slight Misapprehension, . . 198 
 Apollyon Bonypart, ..... 199 
 
 Paul and Politics, ...... 200 
 
 A Prediction, ........ 201 
 
 The Dessert, 202 
 
 Boston Music Hall, 202 
 
 Trousseau of Princess Wasa, . 203 
 Stock of the Revolution, ... 204 
 Philosophy of Country Health, 205 
 
 The Promenade, 206 
 
 Mrs. Partington in the Crowd, 207 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Cereous Matter, 208 
 
 Ancient and Modern Remedies, 209 
 Mr. Slow in the Moon, . . . .210 
 
 My Little Boy, 211 
 
 My Little Boy, 215 
 
 Mrs. Partington on Remedies, . 219 
 
 A New Instrument, 219 
 
 Criticism, 220 
 
 Bleak House, . . . 221 
 
 Admiration for Eloquence, . . 221 
 Naves of the Crystal Palace, . 222 
 Mr. Bisbee's Confession, . . . 223 
 
 German ia Band, 227 
 
 A Good Suggestion, 228 
 
 Catching an Omnibus, .... 229 
 Ike in a New Position, .... 230 
 Unpopular Doctrine, ..... 231 
 
 Benevolence, . 232 
 
 Mysterious Action of Rat*, . . 233 
 Mrs. P. on the Mississippi, . . 234 
 Provisions of the Constitution, 235 
 
 Severe, but Just, 236 
 
 Mrs. Partington and Piety, . . 236 
 
 Bricks and Straw, 237 
 
 Medallio Prospects, . . . . .237 
 Mrs. Partington Beating Up, . 238 
 
 A Dead Shot, 239 
 
 Shocking Joke, 239 
 
 Riding, 240 
 
 Mrs. Partington Look ing Out, . 242 
 Foreseeing Things Beforehand, 243 
 
 A Sinuosity, 244 
 
 The Science of Fish, 245 
 
 Eternal Indebtedness, .... 246 
 Borrowing Newspapers, . . . 246 
 
 Promising Children, 247 
 
 Forgiveness of Wrong 248 
 
 A Negative Affirmative, . . . 249 
 
 Taking Pictures, .250 
 
 Precocity,. 251 
 
 Mr. Thimble's Mouse-trap, . . 252 
 Mrs. Partiogton w. Cook-book, 254 
 
 On Elocution, . ....... 255 
 
 Outrage 256 
 
 Ike in the Country, 257 
 
 The New Year, an Allegory, . 259 
 The Architectural Black Eye, . 261 
 
 Seeking a Couict, 262 
 
 Benevolence Unappreciated, . 263 
 
 The Parting Word, 264 
 
 On Ghosts, 276 
 
 Stage Companionship, .... 277 
 
 ! Mr. Smith and his Boy, ... 273 
 
 j Mr. Slow upon Moral Worth, . 279 
 
 Mr. Slow off Soundings, ... 280 
 
 An Editor a Little Heated, . . 281 
 
 Don't Cut it, Miss, 282 
 
 Twenty-nine Cats, 283 
 
 Signs of Matrimony, 284 
 
 Mrs. Partington on Tobacco, . 285 
 
 Guitar ia the Head, 286 
 
 j A Singular Fact, 286 
 
 j A Hit at the Times, 287 
 
 The Poor Printer, . . . . . . 288 
 
 Mr. Slow on Grave Topics, . . 290 
 
 Paying an Old Debt, 291 
 
 Operatic Rebuke, 293 
 
 " Smith & " 294 
 
 Old Roger in an Omnibus, . . 296 
 A Woman that OnecuuKl Love, 297 
 Introducing the Water, . . . 298 
 
 Rather Funny, 300 
 
 On one String, ....... 300 
 
 Seeking the Light, 301 
 
 Judging Virtue by its Smell, . 302 
 Abuses of the Press, . . . . .302 
 
 Mouse-hunting, 303 
 
 Star-gazing, 307 
 
 Mrs. P. on Mount Vesuvius, . 308 
 
 The Pic-nic, 309 
 
 An Excellent Test of Affection, 319 
 High-Dutch r*. Politeness, . . 320 
 
 Good Taste, 321 
 
 Old Roger much Excited, . . .322 
 
XII 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Rare Dun, . . 323 
 
 Tho Bear-skins, . . . . . . .324 
 
 Awful Dewy, 325 
 
 A Slight Misapprehension, . . 326 
 Peppercaso Rebuked, .... 327 
 A Remembered Mistake, . . .328 
 Mrs. P. and Jenny land, ... 329 
 The Use of the Aztecs, .... 330 
 
 The Brazen Nose, 331 
 
 Going to California, 336 
 
 A Tough Customer, 337 
 
 Funeral Obstacles-, . ... . .338 
 
 Excellent Ad?ice, 339 
 
 Timely Reflection, 340 
 
 Preparing to Sec the President, 341 
 A Church Incident, . . . . .342 
 A Dry-good Lesson, ..... 343 
 A Glance at Poverty, .... 344 
 
 Slanderers, . . . . 344 
 
 A Stormy Season, 345 
 
 Dietetical Counsel, 346 
 
 Mrs. P. Confers with Paul, . . 347 
 Mrs. Partington at the Play, . 349 
 Breaches of Faith, 350 
 
 A Queer Conceit, 350 
 
 Mrs. Partington on Colporters, 351 
 
 Fourth of July, .352 
 
 Seeing the Fireworks, .... 353 
 
 Tho Telegraph, 354 
 
 A Story for Christmas, : . 355 
 Mrs. P. among the Animals, . 3G5 
 A Leaf from Memory, . . . . 3G6 
 Peaceful Cogitations, . . ... 367 
 
 Homo Missions, : . 368 
 
 Old Roger and the Boarders, ' . 369 
 
 Bad Tempers, . .370 
 
 Giving Thanks, .370 
 
 A Good Deal of Truth, . . . .371 
 Political Extravagance, . . . 372 
 
 Sleigh-riding 373 
 
 Hunk for the Union, ..... 377 
 
 Leaf from Philanthropes, y . 378 
 Training Days, ....... 379 
 
 Life How Curious It Is, , . 380 
 An Interesting Fact, . . . .381 
 
 New Patents, J . 382 
 
 Brief Answers, . 383 
 
 Organs, . . . . . 384 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 MRS. PARTING TON, 
 
 RELICT OF P. P., CORPORAL. 
 
 AUL PARTIXGTON, whose name is im 
 mortalized by its association with that 
 of the universal Mas. PAUTIXGTOX, a 
 portion of whose oracular sayings our 
 book comprises, was a lineal descend 
 ant of Seek-thc-Kingdom-continually 
 Partyngetonne, who came from the old 
 country, by water probably, somewhere 
 in the early days of our then not very extensive civiliza 
 tion. At that time, people were not in the habit of 
 putting everything into the papers, as tbey do now, when 
 the painting of a front door, or the setting of a pane of 
 glass, or the laying of an egg, is deemed of sufficient 
 consequence for a paragraph ; much, therefore, of interest 
 
14 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTGff. 
 
 concerning the early .history of his family is merely 
 known by the faint light which tradition has thrown 
 upon it. 
 
 A story has come down to us from remote time, 
 through the oracular lips of the oldest inhabitants, that 
 " Seek-the-Kingdom-continually Partyngctonne " ab 
 breviated to Seek was troubled in the old country by 
 certain unpleasant and often-occurring reminders of 
 indebtedness, yclept " bills," which were always, like a 
 summer night, falling due, and certain urgently-pressing 
 importunities, the which, added to a faith that was not 
 too popular, by any means, at last induced him to warily 
 scrape together such small means as he could, and 
 incontinently retire from metropolitan embarrassment to 
 the comparative quiet of an emigrant's life, where he 
 might encounter nothing more annoying than the howl 
 ing of wolves, or the yelling of savages, sweet music 
 both when contrasted with the horror comprised in the 
 words " PAY TIIAT BILL ! " which had long distressed 
 him. Here the voice of the dunncr was done, and Seek, 
 under his own vine and pine-tree, worshipped God and 
 cheated the Indians according to the dictates of his own 
 conscience and the custom of the times. 
 
 But little, however, can be gleaned of the early sup 
 porters of the family name, save what we procure from 
 the ancient family record, a Dudley Lcavitt's Almanac, 
 on which agricultural memoranda had been kept, and from 
 
BIO GRAPH Y OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 15 
 
 the memory of such members of a foregone generation 
 as remembered the Partington mansion in Bcanville, 
 of course before it was torn down to make way for the 
 new Branch Railroad. 
 
 The " new house" as the mansion has been called 
 for a century (see the accompanying sketch, drawn 
 on a piece of birch bark by a native artist) to distin 
 guish it from some old house that had at some previous 
 tune existed somewhere, was erected about the year 
 
 , as is supposed, from the discovery of a receipted 
 
 bill from Godffrey Pratt, for " Ayde in Rayse'g ye Nue 
 Eddiflyce," which bears date as above, and likewise from 
 the fact that a child was born to the erector of the new 
 house the same year, which was duly chronicled in the 
 ancient Bible, with other blessings, and the word " IIowse' ; 
 is distinctly to be traced among them. 
 
16 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINQTON. 
 
 It is supposed by some that the old house was upon 
 a slight hill opposite the gentle acclivity upon which the 
 new house stood, and fancied outlines of an ancient cellar 
 are there discernible by those whose faith is large enough. 
 But a younger class have set up another hypothesis.: 
 that what they suppose must have been a cellar, was in 
 reality an apple-bin ; and there is no knowing when or 
 how the point will be determined. ; 
 
 The new house was a stanch piece of work, erected 
 at a time when men were honest, and infused much of 
 their own character into the work they put together ; 
 the beams of oak so sturdy, that Time, failing to make 
 an impression upon them, gives up at last in despair. 
 The interior of the mansion, in the latter day of its 
 existence, contrasted gloomily with the modern houses, 
 that sprang like mushrooms around it ; its oak panelling 
 and thick doors imparted an idea of strength, arid the 
 huge beam overhead, beneath which a tall man could not 
 stand erect in the low-studded room, showed no more 
 signs of decay than if placed there a hundred years later. 
 It was not destitute of ornament, for around the fireplace 
 were perpetuated, in the everlastingness of Butch crock 
 ery, numerous scriptural scenes, more creditable to the 
 devotional spirit that conceived, than to the art (or artless- 
 ness) that executed, them. The house was intended as 
 a garrison, and where the clapboards had chafed off' were 
 revealed the scarfed logs, denoting where the loop-holes 
 
BIOORAPUY OF MRS. PABTINGTON. 17 
 
 were, and the leaden bullets, still left there, which Paul 
 was wont to. dig out with his knife, when a boy, and 
 make sinkers of for his fishing-lines. Many a story that 
 venerable house could tell of ancient warfare, of the 
 midnight attack and gallant defence ; but it never told a 
 thing. 
 
 It was in this house that Paul Partington was born 
 and grew, amid all the luxuries that the town of Bean- 
 ville afforded, said town at that time consisting of five 
 houses and a barn. 
 
 In this house he was married, the most momentous 
 act of his life, as through the hymeneal gate came upon 
 the world the dame whose name we are delighted to 
 honor. \Ve find upon the fly-leaf of a treatise on 
 calcareous manures, yet sacredly treasured, the following 
 memorandum, in the corporal's own writing, significant 
 of the methodical habits of the man who shed, in after 
 life, as far as a corporal's warrant could do it, undying 
 glory upon his country: Married this day, January 
 the 3, 1808, to Ruth Trotter, by Rev. Mr. Job Snarl. 
 Forty bushels of potatoes to Widow Green." 
 
 There is a blending of bliss and business in this entry 
 that strikes one at the first glance. The record of the 
 sale of the potatoes ia the same paragraph announcing 
 his marriage to Ruth might signify to some that they 
 were held in equal regard. But we see the matter 
 
 differently. The purchase of Ruth and the sale of the 
 2* 
 
18 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 potatoes were the two great events of that important 3d 
 of January, and they naturally associated themselves. 
 So you, madam, might associate the birth of your first 
 born the most blissful moment of your life with the 
 miserable matter of the death of a lame duck, or the 
 blowing down of a pig-sty. 
 
 Of the courtship that preceded that marriage we can 
 say nothing, except what we have gleaned by accident 
 from the old lady herself. In rebuking the want of sin 
 cerity of devotion now-a-days, on the part of lovers, she 
 once spoke of a time when some one would ride a hard- 
 trotting horse ten miles every night, and back, for the 
 sake of sitting up with her. But no name was men 
 tioned. When it is remembered that the: ancient borough 
 of Dog's Bondage was just ten miles from Beanville, it 
 is easy enough to guess who the individual was. 
 
 Ruth Partington born Trotter came amid sub 
 lunar scenes several years before the nineteenth century 
 commenced ; consequently, sfye is older than 1800. She 
 was a child, by law, for eighteen years befofe she became 
 a woman, and performed the duties ' : incuinbcrcd" upon 
 her, as we. have been informed by her, with great fidelity. 
 We have often endeavored, in fancy, to picture the Ruth 
 of Dog's Bondage, in the check apron and homespun 
 gown, by the brook engaged in washing; or, basket in 
 hand, feeding the yellow corn to hungry ducks, emble 
 matic of that throwing forth of #ems that have since been. 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 19 
 
 scrambled for by admiring crowds; or seeking berries 
 in the woods, crowned with wintergreen, as the meed of 
 popular approbation surrounds her brow in the latter day 
 of her existence ; or engaged in incipient benevolences 
 as binding up the broken limbs of barn-yard favorites, or 
 protecting the songsters of the marsh from predatory 
 boyhood fitting fore-heralds of that matured benevo 
 lence which embraces the world in its scope : here speak 
 ing the consoling word, and there dispensing comfort, 
 mingled with catnip tea. In fancy, we say ; the check 
 apron, homespun gown and all, are but the stuff that 
 dreams are made of. 
 
 There are vague reminiscences of things that have past 
 which we catch occasionally, when souchong has released 
 the memory of Mrs. Partington from the overriding care 
 for the world's welfare that would fain keep it home, and 
 we roam back through scenes of her early life that 
 breathe of rurality like a hay-field in June, or a barn 
 yard in the month of March. We have tales of applc- 
 parings, and attendant scenes and suppers ; of hu.sk ings 
 full of incident and red ears, and resonant with notes the 
 sweet import of which Mrs. Partington can well tell ; and 
 jolly quiltings, great with tattle and tea, and moonlight 
 walks home, with the laughter of mirth mingling with 
 the song of the cricket in the hedge, or that of the 
 monarch of the swamp singing his younglings to sleep in 
 the distance, or the whippoorwill upon the bough ; and 
 
20 BIOGRAPHY OP MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 stupendous candy pullings, with their cugtomary conse 
 quences to broad shirt-collars and cheeks sweeter than 
 molasses ; and slides do ,vn-hill on the ox-sled runners, 
 in winter, that the boys hauled up to the summit, disas 
 trous at times to propriety and health, but full of a fun 
 that looked at no result but its own enjoyment the 
 means a secondary consideration. And there gleams 
 through this a ray that reveals early loves and dreams 
 that had au existence for a time, to be swallowed up 
 eventually in admiration for that embodiment of war and 
 peace, Paul Partington, whose flaming eye and sword, 
 upon an ensanguined muster-field, won a regard that 
 only ended in Beanville, when the name of Trotter 
 became merged in that of Partington. 
 
 Tradition which, in this instance, may be partly 
 right tells of rivalry for the possession of the belle of 
 Dog's Bondage. We can conceive of rivalry among the 
 men, and envy among the women ; of struggles on the 
 one part to gain her favor, on the other part the strug 
 gle to lose it by provoking her hostility. Hostility 7 
 Herein might arise a question as to whether so gentle a 
 being ever entertained hostility to anything. We should 
 be false to our object that of writing a true biography 
 of Mrs. Partington did we pretend that she was per 
 fect. We would take this pen and inkstand, as well as 
 they have served us in our need, and throw them in the 
 grate, before we would make any such assertion. But 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINOTON. 21 
 
 we must say that we never heard she had an enemy, and 
 Tradition that grim old chap, that has so many bad 
 things to say about people, and so few that are good 
 never said a word about it. Doubtless many a rustic 
 heart beat warm beneath a homespun coat of numberless 
 years, and sighs redolent of feeling poured from beneath 
 the rim of many an old bell-crowned hat of felt. But 
 the meteor came, Paul swept the field, the heart 
 of Ruth surrendered with discretion, and other people 
 stood back. 
 
 Great was this for Dog's Bondage ! The sun rose on 
 the brightest day of the year when it happened; the brook, 
 that had frozen up previously, immediately thawed out ; 
 two robins were seen looking round for places to build 
 their nests, thinking it was spring, so mild was it ; the 
 lilac buds almost "bursted" in their anxiety to notice 
 the occasion; and old farmers, as they talked to one 
 another across dividing fences, spoke most sagaciously 
 about the extr'or'nary spell of weather. As old Roger, 
 Mrs. P.'s cousin, remarked, when he heard the circum 
 stance, it was a wether very like a lamb. But, as we 
 were saying, 
 
 Schools were not so common at that time as now, and 
 as there was none nearer the Trotters than Huckleberry 
 Lane, in the Upper Parish, and as there was a quarrel 
 between the Upper and the Lower parishes, old Trotter, 
 who belonged with the Lower, felt bound to stand by that 
 
22 BIOGRAPHY OF AIRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 section, though he knew nothing about the quarrel, 
 and hence Ruth was kept at home to receive by the 
 fireside the domestic^ accomplishments nowhere else to be 
 learned, and drink in the oracular wisdom of the venera 
 ble Trotter, as it fell from his lips through the aroma of 
 pigtail tobacco and hard cider. 
 
 Alas for Trotter ! His day is done, his pipe is out, 
 his cider has gone, and even Dog's Bondage has become 
 a name obsolete among the places of the earth, that town 
 rejoicing now in the more euphonious title of Clover 
 Hill, probably from the fact of there not being a leaf of 
 clover within seven miles of it. 
 
 And thou, Dame Trotter ! famous for pastry and poul 
 try, beneath whose ready skill Thanksgiving became a 
 carnival of fat things, whose memory yet lingers about 
 the olden home, now in stranger hands, with the fra 
 grance of innumerable virtues, like the spicy odor of 
 many Christmas dinners, thou, too, art gone, and 
 Dog's Bondage may know thce no more forever ! The 
 Rev. Adoniram Smith, who preached her funeral sermon, 
 drew largely upon the book of Proverbs for illustrations 
 of her character, and said that better pumpkin pics, or 
 a better exhibition of grace, he had never known any 
 woman to make before. 
 
 A kind heart has characterized Mrs. Partington from 
 her childhood up, displayed in many ways. Her benev 
 olence got far in advance of her grammar in her early 
 
BIOGRAPHY OP MRS. PARTINGTON. 23 
 
 days, and in her sayings at times are detected certain 
 inaccuracies that some people are inclined to laugh at ; 
 but if they will stop a little and see the yellow kernels 
 of wisdom gleaming out through the thickly-surrounding 
 verbiage, they will raise their hats in grateful respect for 
 the bounty afforded. 
 
 The domestic history of Mrs. Partington requires a 
 nice pen to pbrtray it, so full was it of delicate beauty 
 and delightful incident. Marriage meant something in 
 old times. It was no holiday affair, donned like a gar 
 ment, to be regarded as worthless when the fashion 
 changed. It grew out of no sickly sentiment that had 
 its existence in the yellow fever of a wretched romance, 
 as unlike true life as a cabbage is to a rose; or the sere 
 of autumn, a more fitting simile, to the vernal 
 spring. It was a healthy, hearty, happy old institution 
 in those days, was matrimony, and people jogged along 
 together in the harness of its duties, as harmoniously as 
 the right hand and the left, that help each other and yet 
 don't seem to know it, so natural is the service ren 
 dered, as if they were born to it. And as the right 
 hand or the right eye sympathizes with the left, so did 
 the twain thus united sympathize. Duty and affection 
 leaned upon each other, and inseparably strove to make 
 the home hearth cheerful. It became pleasure to carry 
 the sweet drink to the thirsty man, in the field a-mowing; 
 or to bear the basket of luncheon to the woods where the 
 
24 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 red-browed man was chopping wood for winter ; or to 
 patiently hold the light in the long winter evenings 
 when the yokes were to be mended or the harness re 
 paired. And it became pleasure when the goodman 
 went to town to stow his pockets with something nice for 
 the wife at home, a new dress or a new apron, the 
 remembrance of whose face would come to him when 
 away and hasten his departure back. It was that remem 
 brance which prompted the mare into an urgent trot 
 on the last mile home, though she couldn't see the 
 necessity for it, and his eye looked brighter when he 
 saw the cheerful face at the window, looking down the 
 road, and shook his whip at it as it smiled at him, as much 
 
 as to say, let me get near you, and and what ? Ask 
 
 the walls, and the bureau in the corner, and the buffet 
 where the china was, or the milk-pans upon the dresser, 
 what. 
 
 No jars occurred in a home that owned such a 
 pair. Can the right hand quarrel with the left ? Can 
 the left eye cast severe glances upon the right ? The 
 home where a true marriage exists is blest, and the man 
 who finds his domesticity cast in a mould such as we 
 have described, may be called happy in the fullest sense 
 of the blissful word, 
 
 It would have done all of us good to peep in upon 
 fireside scenes at the Partington mansion. The fire 
 place, with its wide and hospitable arms extended, looked 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 25 
 
 ' 
 
 like an incentive to population, having family capacity 
 revealed in its huge dimensions. It was a brave idea 
 of Seek Partyngetonne, and when he laid the corner 
 stone of the Beanville structure he had visions of a 
 posterity as numerous as the leaves of the sweet-briar 
 bush that waved by his door. Alas ! how were those 
 visions verified, as a few generations saw the line of Seek 
 diminishing, to find its end, at last, like the snap of a 
 whip-lash, in one little knot. 
 
 But those scenes ! It was the custom of the corporal, 
 in the long nights of whiter, to scat himself in the right 
 corner of the old fire-place, while the dame occupied the 
 other, and read, by the light of a mutton tallow candle, 
 such literature as the house afforded. This was com 
 prised in the family Bible, an old and massive volume 
 that adorned the black bureau under the glass ; a copy 
 of army tactics, presented to Paul by a revolutionary 
 soldier; and a copy of Dudley Leavitt's Almanac. 
 These were read, by the light of mutton fat, aloud, while 
 Mrs. Partington pursued her knitting in the corner, 
 nodding at times, perhaps, as the theme was dull or 
 familiar; but the smile always rewarded Paul's effort to 
 amuse her, as much as if he had n't read the some things 
 over and over a thousand times. The small, covered 
 earthen pitcher kept time to his reading often, and sung 
 and sputtered upon the coals between the old-fashioned 
 
 dog andirons, as if a spirit were within struggling to 
 3 
 
26 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTIXGTON. 
 
 
 
 throw off the cover that restrained it and escape. Reg 
 ularly, as the hand of the old bull's-eye watch on the 
 nail over the .mantel-piece denoted the hour of nine, was 
 the book laid by, and the mug taken from the fire and 
 its steaming contents poured into the white earthen bowl 
 upon the table, which sent up a vapor that rolled upon the 
 dark walls like a fragrant cloud, and made the room 
 redolent with the fume of the " mulled cider " that, 
 smoothed the pillow of Paul. 
 
 It was pleasant, too, to have a neighbor come in at 
 times and spend an evening, when the big dish of apples 
 would be brought on, and the sparkling cider, that 
 snapped and foamed, in an ambition to be drank, crowned 
 the board. And then such stories as would be told of 
 " breakings out," and "great trainings," and " immense 
 gunnings," in which exploits were achieved that my 
 veracious pen would hardly dare recall ! And the old 
 Indian wars would be fought again by the light of 
 tradition and the above-named tallow candle ; and the 
 tales be retold of revolutionary valor that signalized itself 
 in '76. Perhaps a song would be sung commemorating 
 old times, in the quaint melody that knew no artistic 
 skill beyond nature's teaching. 
 
 Mrs. Partington, as the presiding genius of these 
 scenes, shed the radiance of her presence over the circle, 
 as the sunflower claims eminence in a jsarden of mari- 
 
 O 
 
 golds. Her sage voice was heard in wise counsel ; and in 
 
BIOGRAPHY OP MRS. PARTINGTON. 27 
 
 giving the news of who was sick, or dead, or about to 
 to married, or was n't about to be married, but ought to 
 be, 3^ was at home. 
 
 The tiu:'?. we speak of was near the close of Paul's 
 career, before (he sad military reverse took place which 
 broke his heart. It would be impossible, in the small 
 space allotted us, to describe all the virtues of Mrs. Part- 
 ington. It were best to make an aggregate of good, and 
 call it all hers. The herbs that aJorned the garret walls 
 in innumerable paper bags, were not gathered for her 
 self; the balm-of-gilead buds and rum, that occupied their 
 position in the buffet, '-were not prepared for hei , but at 
 the first note of distress from a neighbor her aid was fevor 
 ready. She was the first who was sent for on important 
 occasions, when goodwives must be wakened from their 
 beds at midnight ; and to this day half the population 
 at Beanville speak of the benevolent face that bent over 
 them in the first moments of their struggle with exist 
 ence, and gave them a better impression of life than after- 
 experience verified ; and catnip tea and saffron became 
 palatable when commended by a spoon held by her. 
 She knew the age of every one in the village, and, had 
 politicians not rendered the word hackneyed, we would 
 say she had the " antecedents " of every one at her 
 fingers' ends. She was as good as an almanac for chrono 
 logical dates; and in the matter of historical incidents 
 
28 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 Dudley Leavitt and Mrs. P. generally came out neck- 
 and-aeck. 
 
 She had a great reverence for this same almanac, and 
 we cannot refrain from speaking of an incident in connec 
 tion with it. She pub implicit faith in its predictions, 
 and the weather-table stood like a guide-board to direct 
 her on her meteorological march through the year. One 
 year, however, everything went wrong. Storms took 
 place that were not mentioned, and those mentioned never 
 occurred. The moon's phases were all out of joint, and 
 the good dame sat up all one cold night to watch for an 
 advertised eclipse that did n't come off. For a long 
 time she tried to vindicate her favorite, but at last, when 
 a " windy day " predicted proved as mild a one as ever 
 the sun shone on, her faith wavered, to be entirely over 
 thrown by a cold north-easterly storm that had been set 
 down for "pleasant." A timely discovery, that Ike had 
 put a last year's almanac instead of the true one, alone 
 saved the credit of that mathematical standard of natural 
 kw. 
 
 Her domestic virtues were of the most exalted kind. 
 Cleanliness was with her a habit, and every windy day 
 was sure to see Paul's regimentals upon a clothes-line, in 
 the yard, dancing away with a levity altogether at vari 
 ance with the rules of military propriety. A spider 
 never dared to obtrude his presence upon the homestead ; 
 a moth never corrupted the sanctuary of woollen that her 
 
BIOGRAPHY OP MRS. PARTINGTON. 29 
 
 care and a little camphor Lad touched. The white' floor 
 of the Partingtonian kitchen was as full of knots as a 
 map of New Hampshire is of hills, from frequent scour- 
 ings, and, though she never scoured through and fell into 
 the cellar, like the Dutch damsel we read of, it did 
 not seem at all improbable that such an event might 
 happen. 
 
 But her benevolence was the crowning characteristic 
 of her life, developing itself in a thousand and more 
 ways. It sought to make every one around her happy. 
 She commenced taking snuff with an eye solely to its 
 social tendencies, and her box was a continual offering 
 to friendship. When the " last war" broke out, she 
 headed a volunteer list of patriotic women to make shirts 
 for the soldiers, and gave them encouragement and 
 souchong tea to work for the brave men that were exposing 
 themselves to peril; and she scraped Paul's only linen 
 shirt an heir-loom, by the way, in the family up into 
 lint for the wounded soldiers.. A fitting spouse was she 
 for Corporal Paul. Her reputation for benevolence was 
 spread all over the land, like butter upon a hot Johnny- 
 cake of her own baking, and her currant- wine for the 
 sick got a premium for three successive years in the cuttle 
 fair. 
 
 Alas that we have not room to pursue the theme 
 further ! We must take a flying leap over many inci 
 dents and hasten on. 
 3* 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 When Paul's younger brother, Peter the Peter that 
 went " out West," in his youth, whose wife joined the 
 Mormons died, he sent his little Isaac to the care of 
 
 llm '$* 
 
 n '&m ** 
 
 the widow of Paul, and from his earliest infancy he has 
 been her care. She never had any children of her own, 
 and her solicitude is earnestly engaged for him. He is 
 as merry a boy as you will find any day, and, though a 
 little tricky and mischievous, the first beginning of malice 
 does n't abide with him. His tricks do not flow from 
 any premeditation of fun even ; they spring spontane 
 ously and naturally, as the lambs skip or the birds sing. 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTOX. 31 
 
 Whether he takes the bellows' nose for a cannon, or saws 
 off the acorn on the tall, old- fashioned chair for a top, it 
 is all a matter of course, and his bright face knows no 
 cloud when rebuked for what he has done, but he turns to 
 new mischiefs with new zest. Such is Ike. He is now 
 eleven years, just upon the dividing line between ac 
 countability and indulgence, beyond which boyish 
 mischief becomes malice, to be trained by the magic of 
 a leather strap. 
 
 Professor Wideswarth, a member of the Partiugton 
 family like a " remarkable case ?? in the paper of long 
 standing, has associated the two in a poem, which for 
 sublimity is surpassed by Coleridge's Hymn in the Val 
 ley of Ohamouni ; but then they are nothing alike, and 
 parties may divide on their respective merits. One thing 
 about the song, it is authentic in its details, as we 
 have heard averred by the old lady herself. The music, 
 set *o a rocking-chair- movement, was very popular 
 when it was first issued, and the editor of the Blaze, in 
 a complimentary notice of it, said no musical library 
 could be perfect without it. The poein we give be 
 low: 
 
 MRS. PARTLXGTON AT TEX 
 
 Good Mistress P. 
 Silt sipping her tea, 
 Sipping it, sipping it, Isaac and she ; 
 
32 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTOX. 
 
 What though the wind blew fiercely around, 
 
 And the rain on the pane gave a comfortless sound ; 
 
 Little cared she, 
 
 Kind Mistress P., 
 As Isaac and she sat sipping their tea. 
 
 And in memory 
 What sights did she sec, 
 As Isaac and she sat sipping their tea ! 
 She turned her gaze to the opposite wall, 
 Where hung the portrait of Corporal Paul ; 
 And fancies free, 
 To Mistress P., 
 Arose in her mind like the steam of the tea. 
 
 And little saw she. 
 Blind Mistress P., 
 As silently she sat sipping her tea. 
 With her eyes on the wall and her mind away, 
 That Isaac was taking thai time to play ; 
 And wicked was he 
 To Mistress P., 
 As dreamily she sat sipping her tea. 
 
 For Isaac he. 
 In diablerie. 
 
 Emptied her rappee into her tea ; 
 And the old dame tasted and tasted on, 
 Till she thought, good soul, that her taste was gone, 
 For the souchong tea 
 And the strong r.ippee 
 Sorely puzzled the palate of Mistress P. 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS, PARTIXUTON. 33 
 
 This moral, you see, 
 Is drawn from the tea 
 That Isaac had ruined for Mistress P 
 Forever will mix in the cup of our joy 
 The dark rappee of sorrow's alloy, 
 And none are free, 
 Any more than she. 
 From annoying alloys that mix with their tea. 
 
 We have spoken before of the Partington mansion 
 having been removed to make way for the Bcanville 
 railroad. It was taken after Paul's demise. He never 
 would have parted with it thus. He would have fortified 
 it and defended it while a charge of powder remained in 
 *he old powder-horn that hung above the mantel-piece, 
 or a billet of wood was left to hurl at assailants ! But, 
 alas ! Paul was not there ; and his amiable relict opposed 
 but feeble resistance to the encroachment of the new 
 power. As" she herself forcibly expressed it, u What was 
 the use of her trying to go agin a railroad I '"' 
 
 It was hard for her to give up the old mansion, en 
 deared by so many recollections, not a thousand, 
 merely, the number usually given as the poetical limit, 
 but infinite in number, for they embraced all of the days 
 of her wedded happiness, and the companionship of the 
 corporal. 
 
 This sketch of the life of Mrs. Partington would be 
 imperfect were we to omit giving a brief notice of the 
 
34 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTIXGTON. 
 
 picture of the inestimable lady that stands as our frontis 
 piece. We have long felt that an admiring public 
 deserved a more definitive expression of her than could be 
 gained from the mere words, however wise, that fell from 
 her oracular lips. A sense of justice to her innumerable 
 merits has impelled us to redeem her from the uncer 
 tainty of mere verbal delineation, and here we have pro 
 duced her, the fair ideal of wise simplicity. 
 
 It was with great difficulty that we secured this boon 
 for the world. A modest diffidence, that fifty-seven 
 winters have not weakened, made her ?mwilling that her 
 likeness should be thus submitted to the unsparing gaze 
 of thousands. In vain we urged many illustrious exam 
 ples of like martyrdom, of men, who, from pure phi 
 lanthropy, had sacrificed themselves in the everlasting 
 reproach of stereotype, from the never-souring " CM 
 Jacob" to the meek "Elder- Berry," blessing the world 
 with disinterested benevolence at a dollar a quart bottle, 
 six bottles for five dollars. She was not to be moved by 
 any argument we could offer, and we were about to 
 abandon the idea in despair, when the strategy of Isaac 
 effected what diplomacy had failed to accomplish. Snugly 
 ensconced in an old clothes-press, by Isaac, for three 
 days, our artist was enabled through the key-hole to 
 watch the varied expression that flitted across her time- 
 worn face, and his genius achieved its high triumph at 
 the moment when Paine's gas had become the concen- 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF Mlfc% PAUTIMJTON. 35 
 
 tratcil object of her thought, and, oblivious to all 
 external scene and circumstance, her mind was grappling 
 that huge problem, in a vain effort to get a little light 
 upon the subject. 
 
 This is the precise moment at which the artist has 
 taken her impaled her, so to speak, in view of its cor 
 rectness, on his pencil point, and transferred her, still 
 quick with life, to the breathing paper. 
 
 The faithfulness of this picture cannot be too much 
 admired. We have, at u glance, the whole character of 
 the old lady, in her blessed ; * liniments/; witli a benigni 
 ty, like a cup of Sleepers best ningyong, irradiating 
 every feature. The cup-bonier crowns like a halo the 
 brow, upon whose lofty height benevolence sits enthroned ; 
 the lock of gray vibrates tremulously in the wintry air; 
 the specs repose tranquilly in the abstractedness of medi 
 tation ; the pinned kerchief, in modest plaits, enfolds a 
 breast whose every throb is kindly ; the knitting-work, 
 the close attendant ujon her loneliness, has its position, 
 and the busy fingers, in diligent competition, ply the 
 gleaming wires : the ancient chair, :; sacred to memory/' 
 the one that came over in the Mayflower, is presented in 
 its puritanic uprightness, and at its back hangs the >; ridi 
 cule/' in whose mysterious depths dwclleth many a rare 
 antique, that the light of day hath not seen since the 
 memorable '14 ; upon the little pine table, white as snow, 
 from frequent inflictions of soap and .sand, are seen that 
 
3D BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTOtf. 
 
 snuff-box, and that teapot, the little black one, in the 
 respective solaces of which the ills of life have found miti 
 gation, and grief has been allayed of half its bitterness : 
 the amelioration of maccaboy relieving the woes of widow 
 hood, and sorrow finding cessation ? ncath the softening 
 influence of souchong. Above, upon the wall, hangs 
 Paul's ancient profile, in dark rigidity, like a soldier on 
 parade, staring straight forward at nothing, the unbend 
 ing integrity of whose dickey stands in marked contrast 
 with the charcoal of his complexion. And long and often 
 has that profile been scanned by fond eyes in vain effort 
 to detect one line of the olden affection that warmed the 
 original, or dwelt in the hard-spelt character of Paul's 
 epistles, that, well-worn and well-saved, are yet treasured 
 in the old black bureau-desk in the corner. Arid care 
 fully the sprig of sweet fern is renewed above the picture, 
 every year, when the berries lure Ike to the woods, and 
 he comes back laden with pine, and fern, and hemlock, 
 to garnish the fire-place and mantel-piece withal. That 
 handkerchief has been preserved as a sacred relic since 
 the corporal's battle days, when in young devotion he 
 laid it, blazoned with the glory of the Constitution and 
 Guerriere, upon her lap, and, standing by her, with his 
 artillery sword gleaming in his hand, vowed by its edge 
 that his love for her should divide with that for his 
 country ! The story has not been y.-ritten of his deeds 
 of arms, of his " moving accidents by flood and field," 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 and dangers in the imminent deadly breaches, of his p; 
 rades in the artillery, and his campaign-dinner once 
 year. These remain to be written, and the biograph< 
 of Paul Partington shall set the world aglow with tl 
 recital of deeds that have been hid, like the diamond 
 the ashes, but have lost no my of brilliancy. 
 
 It may, however, be well to give a few of these e] 
 ploits, as illustrative of the character of the person i 
 whose heroism we may detect an influence that dates fro 
 Dog's Bondage; and nice discriminators may, by clo: 
 scrutiny, see therein the fusion of the fiery bloc 
 of Seek-the-Kirigdom-continually Partyngetonne tl 
 trumpeter of Oliver Cromwell and the gentle outsic 
 current that met, mingled, and softened the veni, vid 
 vicij of conjugal triumph and formed no mere! 
 bloody warrior, but a hero, whose sword would be stainc 
 by nothing wor$e than the mark of cheese that crownc 
 the board of war. ; 
 
 When the news came, in the " last war," that tli 
 British had landed on the coast, although nine mile 
 from Beanville, his voice waked the people from the 
 slumbers, calling them to arms ; it was his plume th: 
 was seen gleaming in the light of the stars, as he dashc 
 through the town on horseback, urging his steed o 
 through the mud at the rate of five miles an hour ; 
 was his warlike skill that arranged the eleven men o 
 Beanville into a phalanx of attack ; and it was his elc 
 
38 'IJlOliRAPllY'OF MRS. PARTINdTON. 
 
 quence that called upon them, as. husbands, fathers, 
 patriots, and Christians, to fight and die like men. 
 When afterwards it was discovered that all the alarm 
 arose from seeing two men in their boats drawing lobster 
 nets, the merit of valor did not depart from Paul Part- 
 ington, and, though he never got the brevet as sergeant, 
 promised him by the general of division, yet the people 
 honored him, and the battle of the u Bloody "Leven." 
 as they were called, formed a theme for gossip in the 
 tavern at Beanville for many a day. 
 
 When the call came for volunteers to throw up fortifi 
 cations in Boston harbor, he was the first man to enrol 
 his name ; his pickaxe struck the first blow for his 
 country in this service. His use of the spade rendered 
 his advice invaluable to the commanding officer, and he 
 could tell, to a fraction, how many shovels full to take 
 from one portion, and how many wheelbarrow loads to 
 put in another. His overalls were in the front of the 
 fight; his arm was fearlessly bared in the encounter. 
 " But, alas for his country ! " he got a grain of gravel 
 in his eye, and had to go home, after exhorting his 
 comrades in arms to dig on, and giving his overalls to 
 one who needed them He was afterwards pensioned for 
 his injury, having been very favorably mentioned in the 
 orders of the day. 
 
 But in the muster-field was his greatest triumph. The 
 smell of gunpowder he snuffed like the war-steed from afar. 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 39 
 
 In the intricacies of sham-fight he was at home. He was 
 always selected to lead the forlorn hope in an attack, and 
 his compressed lips and flashing eyes were precursors of 
 victory. It became a standing rule that he must beat ; but 
 when the mad sergeant from the city, who commanded the 
 point to be attacked, wouldn't give in, and charged home 
 upon the corporal, driving him back at the point of the 
 bayonet, whereby he lost three of his men and his credit 
 in a bog through which they were compelled to pass, 
 the star of the corporal waned. His martial spirit de 
 parted from that' hour. Even though a court-martial 
 was ordered at once, and the sergeant ordered to be shot, 
 which fate was only avoided by his speedy departure 
 from Beanville, it was of no avail. The careful 
 nursing of Ruth availed" nothing. He took to his bed, 
 had his artillery sword and cap hung upon a nail 
 where he could sec them, and lay down to die. The skill 
 of the country doctor, with a pair of saddlebags filled 
 with medicine, and the whole pharmacopoeia of Mrs. P., 
 couldn't save him, and, after making his will, like a 
 prudent citizen and a good soldier, he bade the world 
 good-night, and Paul was not. 
 
 '* No sound can awake him to glory again.*' 
 
 He was buried with military honors by the Beanville 
 Artillery, who for twenty years voted annually to erect 
 a monument to his memory, and then gave it up. The 
 
40 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. FARTINQTON. 
 
 poet of the village, in anticipation of the monument, had 
 prepared an epitaph, which we subjoin : 
 
 " Here lies, beneath 1 this heap of earth, 
 A hero of extensive worth, 
 A whole-souled man, full six feet tall, 
 Surnamed Partington, christened Paul." 
 
 The parish bury ing-ground in Bcanville, a sketch 
 of which is here subjoined, is situated in the bend of 
 
 the turnpike leading from Clover Hill, and it is a 
 shrine much visited in the summer months by tarriers at 
 the village ; for all that was Paul Partington rcstd be 
 neath the turf, with naught but a tall sweet-briar to 
 mark tfie spot, standing like a sentinel on duty, armed 
 at all points, and watching the slumber of the hero of 
 the Bloody 'Levcn. The picture was taken by a trav 
 elling artist while riding over the turnpike on the stage 
 coach, who was so struck with the picturesque beauty of 
 the scene that he made an eight-miles-an-hour sketch 
 of it in his portfolio. 
 
 It is to this spot, on each returning season, that Mrs. 
 Partington comes, by virtue of a free pass allowed her 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINQTON. 41 
 
 by the Beanville Branch Railroad, and brings Isaac, 
 and praises the ancient corporal's virtues, and tries to 
 incite the boy's ambition to be like him ; and he likes to 
 come, for, while he is drinking in the words which Mrs. 
 Partington imparts, he can watch the chip-munks on the 
 decaying wall, and slily shy stones at birds whose confi 
 dence leads them to approach the spot and twitter upon 
 the mullein-stalks that grow rankly by the gate. 
 
 We say naught but a sweet-briar tree marks the spot. 
 The old gravestone, with its hard-faced remembrance of 
 Paul, has been carried off in relics by modern Vandals. 
 Chip by chip has the ancient monument disappeared, that 
 affection paid for to the city stone-cutter and placed 
 here, until not a scrap of it is left. The ancient stone 
 of blue slate, with its 'jolly death's-head, that appeared 
 as if quick with mirth ; the winged, chubby cherubs in 
 the corners, that looked like babies living in uncom 
 fortable fat, like doughnuts ; the simple inscription, in 
 Roman characters, commemorative of the Roman virtues 
 of Paul, and the quaint epitaph that told in equivocal 
 English of a future hope, all have been chipped off. 
 
 But, thanks to art, that can 
 restore the lost and create 
 *hat wnlcn never existed, that 
 
 " 
 
 monument is before us for our 
 
 admiration - Howmanyshocks 
 of elemental war has that an- 
 
42 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PART1NGTON. 
 
 tiquated block of monumental sculpture withstood suc 
 cessfully standing despite the snow and frost of winter, 
 or the tornadoes of summer, to be carried off piece by 
 piece in the pockets of encroaching pilgrims! But there 
 is a glory ia the idea of a gravestone's being used up in 
 breast-pins, to be more choicely cherished than the richest 
 rubies. ; 
 
 There were melancholy days in the Partingtonian 
 mansion when Paul stepped out. The old chair stood 
 by the right side of the fire-place, as if waiting to be 
 occupied ; the mug simmered in the winter evenings 
 between the andirons, with a mournful measure, as if 
 responsive to the wind that made a muss and hurly-burly 
 about the chimney-top, but only one now partook of its 
 contents ; the regimentals were aired upon the clothes 
 line, and, inflated with wind, seemed at times . like the 
 corporal himself, cut up in parcels, who was, alas ! to fill 
 them no more. The settling of the estate broke in upon 
 this dull and monotonous existence, and, in the excite 
 ment of the law, she forgot the sorrow that, as she said, 
 made her nothing but flesh, skin, and bones. The re 
 mark she made concerning probate offices is recorded as 
 a living evidence of her sagacity. Some one spoke to 
 her about the probate proceedings regarding the estate. 
 "Yes,' 7 said she, "it is probe it, probe it, all the time ; 
 and if the poor, widowless body gets the whole she don't 
 get half enough." The remark, likewise, about doing 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 43 
 
 things by attorney will be remembered until it is forgot 
 ten: "Don't do anything by power of eternity/' said 
 she, "for, if you do, you will never see the end of it." 
 What profundity ! 
 
 But the estate was settled, after much delay, and the 
 farm carried on at the halves by a neighbor, -whose hon 
 esty was no security against the temptation of plethoric 
 crops and opportunity. The hay fell off in the accounts, 
 the recorded corn denoted a speedy famine, and a more 
 disastrous havoc of potato rot has never since transpired 
 than assailed her crops. But this state of things came 
 to an end, instead of the farm as was threatened. 
 
 The march of improvement led to the need of a rail 
 road through Beanville, and the Partingtonian mansion 
 became a sacrifice to the ruthless spirit of progress, that, 
 all-grasping, stops not at anything in its path, whether it 
 be a homestead or a hemisphere. : Mrs. Partington left 
 Beanville reluctantly. As she herself has said, it was 
 useless to try to stand against a railroad ; and the city 
 offering inducements in the way of education for Isaac, 
 the legacy left her by the brother of Paul, she anchored 
 her bark in the municipal haven, where her benevolence 
 of act, intention, and sentiment, has been spread broad-cast, 
 and many a smile has grown out of her "lines" that 
 " have been cast in pleasant places." 
 
 There is a mystery thrown about the brother of Paul 
 that we cannot unravel. All that is known of him is, 
 
44 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINQTON. 
 
 that he was a pioneer in western civilization ; was wounded 
 in the Black Hawk war, and died on his way to Bean- 
 ville, forwarding Isaac and a black silk handkerchief of 
 boy's clothes by stage to their destination. But in Isaac 
 is centred the affection that shed its rays about her early 
 years, and in him she sees the nucleus of a Partingtonian 
 progeny that shall appease the spirit of Seek-the-King- 
 dom Partynge tonne, if it be knocking round amid sub-lunar 
 scenes. She takes every occasion to describe his exalted 
 origin. On a recent occasion, while in the street with 
 Isaac, a citizen soldier in all the pride of regulation- 
 uniform passed them. " See ! " said the boy with anima 
 tion, " does that look like uncle Paul? " She looked at 
 him, half offended. " No," said, she, with pride in her 
 expression, " he is no more like your uncle than Hy 
 perion fluid is like a satire f " There >vas Shakspeare 
 and dignity in the remark, and Isaac turned with emotion 
 to look at the picture of a monkey, in a window, tempting 
 a chained dog by holding his tail within an inch of the 
 canine nose. 
 
 Speaking of the monkey's tail reminds us that we are 
 nearly to the end of our tale about Mrs. Partington. We 
 at the first thought of getting an autobiography of the 
 old lady, which would have greatly enhanced the interest 
 of the book, and had asked her to give us something of 
 this kind. But one afternoon, as we were revolving some 
 stupendous idea, the Nebraska bill, may be, or the 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 45 
 
 Gadsdcn treaty, or Mr. Marcy's letter, with our feet 
 in slippers a foot or two above our head, and puffing one 
 of those choice Habanos that the importer had sent in, 
 we felt a finger on our shoulder. " Get out, woman ! " 
 we cried, somewhat tartly, "there's nothing for you." 
 Heaven help us ! we thought it was the woman with the 
 rummy breath that had haunted us for days. The touch 
 was repeated, and, looking around to frown down the in 
 truder, the mild gaze of Mrs. Parti ngton was bent upon 
 us. The chair from the other room was brought in. 
 
 " So you thought it was the beggar woman, did you ? " 
 said she. " Well, suppose it had have been? Could n't 
 you have given her a soft word,if you had n't any money ? 
 Was there anything harmonious in her asking you for a 
 penny?" 
 
 We felt rebuked. 
 
 " But," continued she, smilingly, " I have come to 
 say, about that writing matter, that it will do just as 
 well if you write it for me. Generally, I s'pose, a naughty 
 biography is better if it is writ by one's self, but I can 
 trust you to do me justice." 
 
 What a privilege ! Macaulay says somewhere that 
 Boswell was the only true biographer that ever wrote. 
 "By the star that is now before us!" we ejaculated, 
 looking at Mrs. Partington, " he shall yet confess that 
 another has been found, and Bozzy's glories be shared 
 with us." 
 
46 BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 Mrs. Partington smiled at our enthusiasm, and passed 
 out of the door, and down the stairs, and waved an adieu 
 to us a moment afterwards from the steps of an omnibus 
 that was to take her home. 
 
 We have thus given the LIFE OF MRS. PARTIXGTON, 
 
 with her antecedents and coassociates. It is a desultory 
 
 
 story, unlike, perhaps, anything you have seen before, 
 
 dear reader. Try to fancy its oddity a reason for praise. 
 Remember the dull and hackneyed path of common 
 biographers, and remember, too, that this is the biogra 
 phy of no common person, but that of MRS. PARTIXG- 
 fTON a name not born to die. Perhaps you may 
 recognize in the oddity of the sketch a gleam of the 
 eccentricity that has marked her sayings. In the hope 
 that he has pleased you, the biographer places his hand 
 on. his heart and bows, as the curtain descends to slow 
 music. 
 
MILD WEATHER. 
 
 47 
 
 MILD WEATHER. 
 
 ms is grand weather, mem, fot 
 poor people," said Mr. Tigh, the 
 rich neighbor of Mrs. Partington, 
 on a very warm day of winter, 
 and indulged in a half-chuckle 
 about it a3 he rubbed his hands 
 together. It is a remark that 
 almost everybody would make, and mean it, too, at a 
 time when coal, by the rapacity of man, was eight or 
 nine dollars a ton, and cold weather, by the blessing of 
 Heaven, that tempers the wind to the shorn lambs and 
 ragged children, was withheld, but not Mrs. Part 
 ington. 
 
 " Yes," said she, gently laying her hand at the same 
 time on the sleeve of Mr. Tigh's coat, and looking him in 
 the face. " Yes, and don't folks use this good weather too 
 much as an excuse for not helping the indignant widows 
 and orphanless children ? Depend uj)on it, cold weather 
 is the best for the poor, for then the rich feel the cold, 
 
48 MILD WEATHER. 
 
 and think more of 'em, and feel more exposed to give 'em 
 consolation and coal. Cold weather comes down from 
 heaven o' purpose to make men feel their duty, and it 
 touches the heart, as the frost touches the milk-pitcher 
 and breaks it, and the milk of humane kindness runs out, 
 and the poor are made better for it. Cold weather is a 
 blessing to the poor, depend upon it." 
 
 She stopped here, and Mr. Tigh cast his eyes down and 
 struck his caue several times against a brick at his feet ; 
 then, bidding the old lady good-morning, he moved away. 
 There was a large ''Dr. to Sundries" on his book that 
 night, which the book-keeper will find it difficult to ex 
 plain ; but Heaven knows all about it, and the secret gift, 
 in charity, and the prayer of the poor recipient, invoking 
 blessings on the unknown benefactor, were great records 
 that night in the angel's book. 
 
TUB CHINA QUESTION. 49 
 
 THE CHINA QUESTION. 
 
 "You never see sich chancy no ware now^ as this/' 
 said Mrs. Partington, as she took from an obscure corner 
 of the old cupboard a teapot of antique appearance, nose 
 less and handleless, and cracked here and there, and 
 stayed with putty where Time's mischievous fingers had 
 threatened a dissolution of the union. " That teapot was 
 my grandmother's afore she was married ; I remember it 
 just as well as it was yesterday." 
 
 " Remember when your grandmother was married ? " 
 queried Ike. 
 
 "No, no, the teapot," responded she; "and it was a 
 perfect beauty, with the Garden of Eden on it, and the 
 flowers and Adam and Eve on it, so natural that you 
 might almost smell their fragrance." 
 
 " What, smell Adam and Eve I '' said Ike. 
 
 " No, the flowers, stupid ! " replied she ; " my grand- 
 'ther gave it to her as a memento mori of his undying 
 infection, because the colors wouldn't fade, and they 
 never have, though children are destroying angels, and 
 they made the mischief among the crockery, as they 
 always do now-a-days." 
 
 She had held the teapot in her hands as she spoke. 
 and now she gazed in silence upon the picture of Adam 
 and Eve, partially concealed in the bushes, and she 
 revelled in the memory of the past, and wondered if her. 
 grandmother ever came back to look at that old teapot 
 A 
 
50 SYMPATHY. 
 
 that she had preserved so carefully, as an heir-loom ; 
 then, carefully brushing off some dust that rested upon 
 it. she replaced it, and charged Ike impressively to keep 
 it most sacrilegiously for her sake. He said he would, as 
 plain as his mouth full of preserved plums would let 
 him, and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his best 
 jacket. 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 " HERE 's fresh halibut ! " cried the fish-vender, be 
 neath Mrs. Partington s window. 
 
 '"I know it is, you poor cretur ! " said the estimable 
 laxly, looking after him with a commiserating expression; 
 " I know it is; and I believe it is the seventh fresh haul 
 about that he has made by here to-day ; and he speaks 
 so pitiful, too, when he is telling us of it, it makes my 
 very heart ache for him." 
 
 She caught not the deep significance of the cry: but 
 her benevolence, always on the alert, construed it into 
 an appeal for sympathy. Heaven's blessings on thee, 
 Mrs. Partington, and, with reverence be it wished, 
 where hearts are regarded, may you turn up a trump. 
 
51 
 
 PAUL'S GHOST. 
 
 IT was just in the nigh edge of a summer evening, ant r 
 Mrs. Partington, who had worked hard at her knitting 
 all day, began to feel a little dozy. She felt, as sh 
 described it to her neighbor, Mrs. Battlegash, "a sort ot 
 alloverness; " and those who have felt as she thus dcscrilted 
 it, will know the precise sensation ; for ourselves, never 
 having felt so, we cannot explain it. 
 
 It was a sort of half twilight, when the daylight 
 begins to be thick and muddy, and a time when ghosts 
 are said^to be round fully as plenty as at the classic hour 
 of midnight. We never could see the propriety of re 
 stricting ghostly operations to this sombre hour, and, as 
 far as our experience goes, we have seen as many ghosts 
 at <: noon of day " as at the " noon of night." 
 
 She never told us why, or if she were thinking ot 
 ghosts at this time ; indeed, all we know about the ghost 
 was from Mrs. Battlegash, and we shall have to give the 
 narration as we had it under Mrs. B.'s own hand : 
 
 " Says Mrs. Part'nton, says she, ' Mrs. Battle,' she 
 always calls me Battle, though my name is Battlegash 
 my husband's name, and his father's says she, 'Mrs. 
 Battle, I 've seen an apprehension; ' and I thought she 
 was agoing to have an asterisk, she was so very pale and 
 haggard like ; and says I, ' What *s the matter I ' for I felt 
 kind of skeered. I had heered a good deal about the 
 spirituous manifestations, and did n't know but they had 
 been a manifesting her. Says I. ; What 's the matter, ? agin, 
 
 LIBRARY -. 
 
 
52 PALL'S GHOST. 
 
 and then says she, as solum as a grave-yard, 'I 've seen 
 Paul ! ' I felt cold chills a crawlin all over me, but I 
 mustard courage enough to say, ' Do tell ! ' ' Yes/ says 
 she, ; I saw him with my mortal eyes, just as he looked 
 when he was a tenement of clay, with the very sogcr 
 clo'es and impertinences he had on the last day he sarved 
 his country in the auxiliary/ 
 
 " I tried to comfort the poor cretur by telling her that 
 I guessed he did n't keer enough about her to want to 
 come back, and as his estate had all been settled sacrelig- 
 iously, it would be very unreasonable indeed in him to 
 come back to disturb her. 
 
 " ' Where did you see him? ' says I. ' Out into the 
 yard, 7 said she. 'When did you see him?' says I. 'Just 
 now/ said she. ' Are you shore it was he ? ' said I, de 
 termined to get at the bottom of it. 'Yes/ said she, 
 ' if ever an apprehension did come back, that 'ere was 
 one. P'raps it is there now.' Then says I, 'Ruth/, says 
 I, 'le's go and see.' 
 
 "She riz right up, and we walked along through the 
 long entry into her room, and looked out of her back 
 window, and there, shore enough, was a sight as froze my 
 blood to calves-foot jelly. There was the sogcr cap and 
 coat, as nateral as life, with the tompion atop. My 
 heart come up into my mouth, so that I could have spit 
 it out just as easy as not. Mrs. Part'nton, says she, 
 'What do you think of it? is n't it his apprehension ? 
 But I 'm determined to speak to it. 7 
 
 " I tried to persuade her not to, but she insisted on it, 
 and out she went. 
 
 " ' Paul ! ' said she, ' what upon airth do you want, 
 
PAUL'S GHOST. 53 
 
 that you should come bitck arter it, so apprehensively 1 ' 
 The figure was setting on the top of the pump when she 
 spoke, and it did n't take no notice of her. Paul ! ' said 
 she, a little louder. Then slowly and solemly that 'ere 
 cap turned round, and instead of Paul, Mr. Editor, if 
 you 7 11 believe it, it was Ike, the little scapegrace, that 
 had frightened us almost out of our wits, if we ever had 
 any. That boy, I believe, will be the means of some 
 body's death. Mrs. Part'nton grew very red in the face, 
 and razed her hand to inflict corporal punishment onto 
 the young corporal, but the boy looked up kind of 
 pleasantly like, and she could n't find the heart to strike 
 him, though I told her if she spared the rod she would 
 spile that ? ere child. It is fortnight for him that he is n't 
 a child of mine, I can tell him." 
 
 Here Mrs. Battlegash's narrative ends. We can fancy 
 the scene in the yard: the youngster in the corporal's 
 coat, the red face changing to pleasant equanimity, the 
 raised hand, indicative of temper, subsiding, as the waves 
 do when the wind ceases *to blow, and peace, like the 
 evening star above them, pervading arid giving grace to 
 the tableau. 
 
54 IKE SO TENDER-HEARTED. 
 
 IKE SO TENDER-HEARTED. 
 
 "THERE, don't take on so, dear," said Mrs. Parting- 
 ton, as she handed Ike a peach he had been crying for. 
 He took the peach, and a minute afterwards was heard 
 whistling " Jordan' J on the ridgepole of the shed. "He 
 is sich a tender-hearted critter," said she to Mrs. Sled, 
 smilingly, while that excellent neighbor looked at him 
 through the window with two deprecatory eyes " He is 
 so tender-hearted that I can't ask him to go out and draw 
 an armful of wood or split a pail of water without setting 
 him crying at once." 
 
 She paused for Mrs. Sled's mind to comprehend the 
 whole force of the remark concerning Ike's luchrymosity. 
 
 "And he's the most considerable boy, too," resumed 
 she, "that ever you see ; for when we had the inclina 
 tion on the lungs, he would n't take a bit of the medicine 
 Dr. Bolus had subscribed, 'cause he k no wed it would do 
 me good, and said he 'd full as lievcs take molasses ! " 
 
 She went on with her knitting, and Ike became lost 
 in the foot of a stocking that she was toeing out. Those 
 grapes on the trellis opposite where Ike is sitting look 
 tempting ! 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTOX says there must be some sort of 
 kin between poets and pullets, for they both are always 
 chanting their lays. 
 
LOOK UP. 55 
 
 LOOK UP. 
 
 PERUAPS it would not make a rap's difference, one 
 way or the other, in a man's fortunes, whether he looked 
 up or down; but we always fancied that there was a rea 
 son for the superstition that made a man's habit of look 
 ing down an augury of his success in life ; as if his mind 
 dwelling, with his eyes, continually on the earth, would 
 better enable him to know how to make money, as a 
 man who dwells in the dark can see better in the accus 
 tomed darkaess, than one who comes directly in from the 
 light. He keeps his eyes on the ground, and no stray 
 fourpences or cents escape his eagle vision. Every nig 
 is marked to see if it may not be a bill in disguise, and 
 the hope to find a pocket-book or two, while passing along 
 the street, seems to be continually present in his mind. 
 His eyes grow heavy with looking down, and v' u at 
 last there is no longer occasion to look down, when he 
 has found all the fourpences and pocket -books that he 
 has sought for, then the light is painful to him. and he 
 turns to the earth again, before he is dead. Habit makes 
 it his only happiness, and he goes to seeking for pocket- 
 books and fourpences again. 
 
 If this be the result of looking down, the result of 
 looking up must be, we should suppose, the opposite of 
 this. Lifting the eyes above the world brings one to 
 view things far better than fourpences. As much dif 
 ference between them as the difference between a star 
 of the first magnitude and a gold dollar. The eyelids 
 
56 LOOK UP. 
 
 turned up, the sunlight streams down upon the mind, 
 and prepares therein a soil for the reception of good seed, 
 that shall grow up and bear fruit. 
 
 Look up ! Who ever thinks of groping about the 
 foundations of Bunker Hill Monument, when there 
 are so many pleasures of vision to be gained by climbing 
 to its summit ? The higher the look, or climb, the broader 
 the view from the lofty position one gains. The most 
 beautiful and delicate work of a structure is placed at the 
 top. The fruit that is sweetest is always the nearest 
 the sun. These are facts that belong to every-day life, 
 to say nothing of that spiritual looking-up required to 
 give light to the soul ; a commodity which some few 
 people possess, and seem desirous of benefi ting. 
 
 But don't, in looking up, lose all memory of earth ; 
 for you can't drop your body as you can your coat, with* 
 your wish, and soar off on the wings of the spirit. When 
 you look up, keep part of an eye directed to earth, and 
 avoid the coal-holes and cellar-ways that are oj>en for 
 your unwary feet. A too deep absorption in things 
 above the earth may make the star-gazer conscious of a 
 pain in the buck from a too sudden contact with the 
 " cold, cold ground,'' as we saw a printer served on a 
 cold morning (though whether he was heaven-seeking 
 is questionable), and who looked very simple as he 
 gathered himself up after the prostration. 
 
 Let the upward look characterize us all, with the 
 eye to accidents, mentioned above, and secure for us a 
 name for aspiring above the grovelling things of the 
 world, and five of us out of six may be deserving of it. 
 Look up! 
 
A SOLEMN FACT. 
 
 57 
 
 A SOLEMN FACT. 
 
 ( OUR plants are most fla 
 grantly odious," said 
 Mrs. Partington, as she 
 stooped over a small oval 
 d table in a neighbor's 
 house, which table was cov 
 ered with cracked pots filled 
 with luxuriant geraniums, and 
 a monthly rose, and a cactus, 
 and other bright creations, 
 that shed their sweetness upon 
 the almost tropical atmos 
 phere of a southerly room in April, while a fragrant 
 vine, hung in chains, graced the window with a curtain 
 more gorgeous than any other not exactly like it. Mrs. 
 Partington stood gazing upon them in admiration. 
 
 " How beautiful they are ! " she continued. " Do you 
 profligate your plants by slips, mem?" 
 
 She was told that such was the case ; they were propa 
 gated by slips. 
 
 " So was mine," said Mrs. P. "I was always more 
 lucky with my slips than with anything else." 
 
 Bless thy kind old heart, Mrs. Partington ! it may 
 be so with you, but it is not so with all ; for the way 
 of the world is hard, and many slips are made, and 
 for the unfortunates whose feet or tongues slip on the 
 
58 NEW REMEDY FOR- A DROUGHT. 
 
 treacherous path, a sentence generally awaits which 
 admits small chance of reversal, a soiled coat or a 
 soiled character sticking to them until both are worn out. 
 Dear old lady ! your humble chronicler remembers that 
 many of the young and beautiful arc projli gated by 
 slips, slips so gradual that propriety could liardly call 
 them such at first, which end, heaven and earth and 
 perdition know how deep. 
 
 NEW REMEDY FOR A DROUGHT. 
 
 MRS. PARTI XGTOX was in the country one August, 
 and for a whole month not one drop of rain had fallen. 
 One day she was slowly walking along the road, with 
 her umbrella over her head, when an old man, who was 
 mending up a little gap of wall, accosted her, at the 
 same time depositing a large stone on the top of the 
 pile. 
 
 "Mrs. Partington, what do you think can help this 
 'ere drought ?" 
 
 The old lady looked at him through her spectacles, at 
 the same time smelling a fern leaf. 
 
 " I think," said she, in a tone of oracular wisdom, " I 
 think a little rain would help it as much as anything." 
 
 It was a great thought. The old gentleman took off 
 his straw hat, and wiped his head with his cotton hand 
 kerchief, at the same time saying that he thought so 
 too. 
 
HEAR THAT VOICE." 59 
 
 "HEAR THAT VOICE." 
 
 DID the reader ever know a man grown, and big at 
 that, with a very small voice, that almost squealed in 
 uttering itself, and gave a most ridiculous aspect to what 
 was perhaps of great importance, as matters of life and 
 death, the reading of a will, an exhortation to virtue, or 
 an anxious inquiry concerning the health of friends ? Of 
 course he has, for there are many such voices about. 
 An agent of a large manufacturing establishment in New 
 Hampshire possessed this peculiarity of voice to a re 
 markable degree, which once was the cause of a most 
 mortifying and ludicrous mistake. A man came to the 
 factory to get employment, a great burly fellow, with 
 a voice like young thunder, and saluted the agent, 
 who was a small man, by the way, with the question, 
 "'Do you want to hire?" in a tone that seemed to shake 
 the room in which they stood. Starting at the sound, 
 and with a face expressive of nervous irritability, he 
 drawled out, in his squeaking, querulous manner, as if 
 looking at each word before he uttered it, 
 
 "No I don't know as I do." 
 
 The man, not understanding his peculiarity, attributed 
 the strange tones to another cause, and kindly extending 
 his huge hand, as one might suppose a friendly bear would 
 under like circumstances, patted the little agent on the 
 head, and soothingly uttered, 
 
 " Well, well, my little fellow, don't cry about it ; 
 don't take on so, if you can't hire me ! " 
 
tiO MRS. PARTINGTON PENNED. 
 
 The contact of crude humanity with his delicate nead 
 operated as magically upon the agent as did the touch 
 of Captain Cuttle's hook upon the refined flesh of Dom- 
 bey, and frightful was the yell with which he met the 
 mechanic's sympathy in a command to leave the room, 
 and awfully vehement was the manner in which he 
 slammed the door to as the good-humored fellow passed 
 into the street. 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTOX PENNED. 
 
 A FRIEND, returned from a visit to New York, pre 
 sented to Mrs. Partington a gold pen which had been 
 entrusted to him for her. The present was duly ex 
 amined and admired, and turned round, and pulled out, 
 and held up to the light, and a receipt for pew-rent was 
 brought out from the black bureau, on the back of which 
 to test its quality, and she made a straight mark to the 
 right, and then crossed it with another straight mark of 
 equal length, and then said it was charming. 
 
 "But who are they?" said she, speculutively. "I 
 don't know them, I'm shore." 
 
 The friend blandly explained that they knew her 
 very well, and that this present was a tribute of regard 
 for her many virtues, which, like the odor of ten thousand 
 flowers, is borne across the entire land. The giver was 
 eloquent touching. 
 
 " Ah," said she, " it is very kind to remember a poor 
 widowleas feodv like me ! \Vhnt friends I have got ! 
 
THE SODA FOUNTAIN. 61 
 
 I hope that Heaven will be rewarded for their kindness 
 tome!" 
 
 It was a fervent aspiration, and though the letter of her 
 prayer might seem to divert the reward from its true 
 object, still its spirit conferred it rightly. She opened 
 the old black bureau-desk in the corner, and placed 
 the gold pen carefully by the side of the paste shoe- 
 buckles, and hoop earrings, valuable relics of bygone 
 times, and then securely locked the desk, as she saw 
 Ike looking curiously into the window, with his nose 
 flattened close against the glass. 
 
 THE SODA FOUNTAIN. 
 
 " THERE it goes again ! " said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 became conscious of the sublimity of a soda fountain one 
 warm day. t: There it goes .again, I declare, fizzin 
 away like a blessed old locomoco on the railroad. Don't 
 say anything about ISTigary now, that is n r t nothin in 
 caparison to this, and it aVt bad beer nuther ; but 
 how in natur they can draw so many kinds out of one 
 fassit, that's the wonderment to me!" and she read 
 justed her specs, and took a new survey of the mystery, 
 while Ike, un watched, was weighing his knife and five 
 jackstones in the bright brass scale on the other 
 counter. 
 
 6 
 
GIVING REASONS. 
 
 GIVING REASONS. 
 
 THE various reasons which some, folks always have 
 ready for their accidents and misfortunes, or as pallia 
 tives for their faults and follies, are very amusing. 
 Many stories are told of such : one we remember of a 
 boy who had played truant, and gave, ;w the reason for 
 his absence, that his father kept him at home to help 
 grind the handsaw. A toper, accounting for a bud cold 
 he had, said he had slept on the common, and forgot to 
 shut the gate. Another soaker, who was found in the 
 gutter, with the water making a free passage over him, 
 when asked how he came there, replied that he had agreed 
 to meet a man there. 
 
 In our printing-office days, when we had to work for 
 a living, it was our luck to work with a queer old fellow, 
 who bore the name of Smith, or some such odd title. 
 He was a very unhappy man, and never smiled unless 
 he had the whole office in a snarl, and then he would 
 chuckle right gladly. He was always fancying that his 
 office-mates were imposing upon him, and a perfect flood 
 of bile would he throw off at times for imagined wrongs. 
 His position was by a window, fronting the east, and 
 over this window he claimed absolute dominion, to shut 
 it up or have it open, as he just pleased, maugre the 
 fretting of those who were annoyed by his obstinacy. 
 He assumed the office of a thermometer for the men, and 
 graduated the heat according to his own feelings. If the 
 
A SMALL TRADE. 63 
 
 wind was east he would as surely have the window open 
 as that he would have it shut if it blew pleasantly from 
 the west. 
 
 One day, with the wind blue east, the window was 
 open all day, and much audible complaint was made by 
 all hands, but without any effect. It was with a feeling 
 nearly akin to exultation they saw him enter the office 
 next day with indubitable signs of having a colil upon 
 him; his nose looked "red and raw," and his voice 
 sounded as if he had two tight-fitting cork stoppers in his 
 nostrils. The window that day was not opened, you may 
 depend. One of the men undertook to remind him that 
 his cold was in consequence of the wind blowing upon 
 him. 
 
 " Do it aidt," said Smith, " but I hug by hat up by 
 the widnder, ad last dight whcd I put it od, it was brib 
 full of east wid." 
 
 A SMALL TRADE. 
 
 " COLD day, Mr. Smith," said old Roger, if. tbe Dock 
 Square omnibus to his neighbor, who assented very 
 politely. " And yet," continued Roger, " cold as it is, 
 I have just seen a man in State-street, who does not 
 wear gloves." 
 
 " Ah ! " responded Smith, struck with the singularity 
 of the statement, " why not. pray ? " 
 
 " Why/ 7 chuckled the old man, ' : because he hasn't 
 any hands." 
 
 Mr. Smith smiled. 
 
64 ON LOCOMOTION. 
 
 ON LOCOMOTION. 
 
 " So they 'vegot you oirthc stage, Mrs. Partington," 
 said we to the old lady, after seeing her name, on a 
 theatre bill, as one of the characters in a new burletta. 
 
 " On the stage ! " replied she. and a gleam of memory 
 passed over her face like a ray of sunshine over a faded 
 landscape, and she looked out of the window, and down 
 the street, until her eye rested on an omnibus moving 
 quickly along, in the pride of paint and gold, and she 
 took passage in it, in fancy, and went along with it. 
 "Yes," said she, " they did get me on the stage, because 
 ' % jt caused a nonsense in my stomach to ride inside ; and 
 wlfct a queer figure I did make on it, to be sure ! But 
 that, ffegfj was five and twenty years ago, and it is so 
 queer they should remember it. 0, them stages ! I r ve 
 heerd of people i kl ing by easy stages, but I never saw 
 one. The easiest way that I ever rid was on a pillory 
 behind Paul, there. Easy -<2ges, indeed ! why, it shook 
 me as if it would shake the sensuality all out of me, and 
 I never got over it for a week. "How different it is 
 now f a nd she looked at the omnibus j jst passing her 
 door, " all you J ve to do is to get into an ominous, all 
 cushioned nicely, with a whole picture-gallery roui-1 it, 
 to see for nothing, and afore you know it you are where 
 you want to go. Stages " 
 
 ' But it is the National stage," we said. 
 
 "Well, well/' replied she, hastily, '"taint no differ 
 ence : only the national stajre carried the mail, and 
 
THE LARGEST LIBERTY. 65 
 
 t'other the female passengers ; one was jest as bad as 
 t'other, and I don't know but worse." 
 
 "But they 've gpt you in the theatre, the National 
 Theatre," we persisted, and showed her the bill. 
 
 She looked at it a moment, and wiped iicr specs, and 
 looked at it again in silence, as if her mind had n't got 
 back from the hard journey it had just taken. At that 
 moment a crash of glass called her hastily to the kitchen. 
 The floor was covered with fragments of that brittle 
 article, and a large ball hopped under a chair, as if 
 ashamed of itself; while Ike was seen, through the 
 broken window, making tracks speedily for the shed. 
 We left her picking up the glass, so that he might not 
 get it into his bare feet when he came in. Depend upon 
 it, he had to take a severe " talkin to" when she caught 
 him. 
 
 THE LARGEST LIBERTY. 
 
 " Now go to meeting, dear," said Mrs. Partington, as 
 Isaac stood smoothing his hair preparatory to going out 
 on Sunday. lie looked down at his new shoes, and a 
 thought of the green fields made him sigh. A fishing- 
 line hung out of one pocket, which Mrs. Partington 
 did n't see. 
 
 "Where shall I go to?" asked Ike. 
 
 Since the old lady had given up her seat in the Old 
 North church, she had no stated place of worship. 
 
 " Go," replied she sublimely, as she pulled down his 
 jacket behind, "go anywheres where the gospel is dis- 
 .pcnsed with." 
 
66 MRS. PARTINGTON IN COURT. 
 
 Such liberality is rare. Bigotry finds no plaoc in her 
 composition, and the truth, in her view, throws its light 
 into every apartment of the Christian edifice, like an 
 oysterman's chandelier into his many booths. The simile 
 is not the very best, but the best to be had at present. 
 
 MRS. PARTI-NGTOJf IN COURT. 
 
 "I TOOK my knitting-work and went up into the 
 gallery," said Mrs. Partington, the day after visiting 
 one of the city courts ; "I went up into the gallery, 
 and, after I had digested my specs, I looked down 
 into the room, but I could n't sea any courting going on. 
 An old gentleman seemed to be asking a good many 
 impertinent questions, just like some old folks, and 
 people were setting round making minuets of the 
 conversation. I don't see how they made out what was 
 said, for they all told different stories. How much 
 easier it would be to get along if they were all made to 
 tell the same story ! What a sight of trouble it would 
 save the lawyers ! The case, as they called it, was 
 given to the jury, but I could n't see it, and a gentle 
 man with a long pole was made to swear that he'd 
 keep an eye on 'em, and see that they did n't run away 
 with it. Bimcby in they come agin, and then they said 
 somebody was guilty of somotJi'*^ who had just said he 
 was innocent, and did n't know nothing about it no more 
 than the little baby that never had subsistence. I come 
 away soon afterwards ; but I could n't help thinking how 
 
"RIGHT" AND "LEFT." 67 
 
 trying it must be to sit there all day, shut out from the 
 blessed nir!" 
 
 This experience is a beautiful exhibit of judicial 
 life. True enough, Mrs. Partington ; ho\v easy might 
 be the determining of cases, were but one side of the 
 story told ! But, alas for perplexed jurymen ! there are 
 unfortunately two sides, and the brain is racked to judge- 
 between them Conscience holding the light trembling 
 ly, lest Honor be compromised, and Mercy pointing with 
 raised finger to its fountain, as if endeavoring to draw 
 attention from Justice, who stands, sword in hand, to 
 urge her claim. " To well and truly try " is the solemn 
 duty fastened by an oath, and the Commonwealth reposes 
 in blessed security upon the broad responsibility of twelve 
 honest men. God save the Commonwealth ! 
 
 "RIGHT" AND "LEFT." 
 
 " THERE never was a time when the divine right of 
 kings could be better shown," said old Roger, em 
 phasizing the word " right " significantly. 
 
 "Why?" asked the little man from the provinces, 
 looking up. 
 
 "Because," replied he, "there will soon be none 
 of them left. 1 ' 
 
 An audible "Whew!" whistled along the table, and 
 one distinct knock from each boarder, denoted equivocal 
 approbation. The dessert was dispensed with. 
 
63 
 
 
 
 A LITTLE TRUTH WELL PUT. 
 
 A LITTLE TRUTH WELL PUT. 
 
 you've come down to attend 
 c adversary meetings/ 7 said 
 Mrs. Partington, as she surveyed 
 the three trunks and two valises 
 and a basket that the cab had 
 just left, and the owner of them all, a gentleman in 
 black, with a ghostly-looking neckcloth. 
 
 " Ah!" said he, humoring her conceit and smiling, for 
 he expected to stay some days, " the adversary we meet 
 we sul>due with the weajxjns of the spirit." 
 
 {i That is just what dear Deacon Sprig said when he 
 captivated the crazy Ingen with Xew England rum, arid 
 then put him in hridc'll. Says he, '141 subdue him 
 with the sword of the spirit T - he was sich a queer man ! 
 These meetings are excellent for converting heathens and 
 saving the lost, and I do nope, after they have saved 
 everybody else, that they will try and save a few more of 
 their own that need teaching. There is a great many 
 round here that want looking after more than the heathen 
 
MUSICAL CRITICISM. 9 
 
 do ; and we must look after our own first, or be worse 
 than the infiddles." 
 
 A pair of yarn stockings and a box of butter stopped 
 her mouth for the time, and the old silver spoons marked 
 "P." P." and the antique china were brought out arti 
 cles that were only used on state occasions. 
 
 MUSICAL CRITICISM. 
 
 "How did you like the concert?" asked Frank, of 
 Mrs. Partington, at the Oratorio. " Very much, indeed," 
 said she; "I liked everything about the Ontario but the 
 consecutives ; the corrosives I thought were sublimated, 
 but the consecutives I thought was dreadfully out of 
 tune/' Frank explained to her the object of the recita 
 tive, and smiled a little at the queer mistake she had 
 made in musical terms. Bless thee, Mrs. Partington ! 
 thy genius in its extravagance is never retarded by 
 terms. 
 
70 LIFE ON THE ROAD. 
 
 LIFE ON THE ROAD. 
 
 OXE summer, during the very hot weather, our Ellen, 
 whose life could number seventeen happy summers, and 
 nearly the same number of winters, took it into her 
 little roguish head that she would like to go to Hampton 
 Beach. And when such a whim liad once got into her 
 head, the question might well be asked how could it be 
 got out. It would be hopeless to attempt it, provided 
 any one were so inclined ; but no one said a word, and 
 Ellen did go. She and her little friend Charlotte, who 
 was on a visit to Ellen, started for the Beach, with 
 lots of precautions and dough-nuts from Ellen's mother, 
 for there is not a better soul between here and Great 
 Hill than that same mother of Ellen's. 
 
 The horse and the wagon, bearing its charming freight 
 of two pretty girls, moved swiftly and safely over the 
 road to the Beach, and many a musical echo reverberated 
 through the woods, and along the meadows, and by the 
 hill-sides, .and from the hill-tops, as they passed along. 
 
 The day was very pleasantly spent by the sea-shore, 
 and when wearied with rambling over the fine, smooth 
 beach, and sporting in the breakers like naiads, they 
 started on their return home, with hearts as light and 
 eyes as bright as when they set out in the morning. 
 
 Their horse was a spirited animal, which could ill 
 brook a whip, and was also emulative to a great degree 
 in competing with other horses for mastery on the road. 
 In fact, he would allow no horse to go by him, and made 
 
LIFE ON THE ROAD. 71 
 
 it a matter of principle if horses are ever governed 
 by principle to go by all on the road. They had 
 got perhaps half way home, when they overtook an 
 oldish sort of. a man who was driving a fast horse. 
 4i Billy," Ellen's horse, stuck up his ears, and " put 
 her," with an evident determination of going by. The 
 old 'un stirred his beast up to the strife, and away they 
 went over the road as swift as the swallows neither 
 having the advantage. Ellen laughed at the sport, and 
 held the ribbons with the tact of a veteran Jehu. The 
 contest was soon decided, for the old chap raised his 
 whip and slightly touched ' ; Billy" with the lash. 
 
 Billy impetuously kicked at the insult, but darted 
 like lightning along the road, distancing his competitor 
 in a twinkling. The old man was seen no more by the 
 victors ; but over the road they still flew, Billy heeding 
 neither rein nor word. The remembrance of the insult 
 put him to his speed, and he dashed along with terrific 
 velocity. 
 
 Men rushed out, and threw up their hands, and cried 
 " Whoa ! " 
 
 Women screamed, and prophesied woe to them. 
 
 Dogs barked as they skimmed along. 
 
 But no fear was felt by our Ellen in her |eril. Her 
 pulse was quick with the excitement, hut no fear mingled 
 with it. Her cheek was red as the rose, and her eyes 
 laughed, as her ringing voice told the people to get out 
 of the way. She wound the ribbons round her hands, 
 and to keep the middle of the road was her only care. 
 
 Bravo! Ellen bravo! and the brave heart and 
 strong arm gave her the victory. A two-mile heat, the 
 
72 FANCY DISEASES. 
 
 quickest ever rah in our county, stands recorded to her 
 fame. 
 
 This is n't much of a story, but it shows what a true 
 woman can do and should do in an emergency. It will 
 not do for Ellen's husband to treat her badly, we can tell 
 him, when he gets her. His bones would n't be entirely 
 safe. 
 
 FANCY DISEASES. 
 
 ] "DISEASES is very various," said Mrs. Partington, as 
 she returned from a street-door conversation with Dr. 
 Bolus. " The Doctor tells me that poor old Mrs. Haze 
 has got two buckles on her lungs ! It is dreadful to 
 think of, I declare. The diseases is so various ! One way 
 we hear of people's dying of hermitage of the lungs ; 
 another way of the brown creatures; here they tell us 
 of the elementary canal being out of order, and there 
 about tonsors of the throat ; here we hear of neurology 
 in the head, there of an embargo ; one side of us we hear 
 of men being killed by getting a pound of tough beef in 
 the sarcofagus, and there another kills himself by dis 
 covering his jocular vein. Things change so, that I 
 declare I don't know how to subscribe for any disease 
 now-a-days. New names and new nostrils takes the 
 place of the old, and I might as well throw my old herb- 
 bag away." 
 
 Fifteen minutes afterwards Isaac had that herb-bag for 
 a target, and broke three squares of glass in the cellar 
 window in trying to hit it, before the old lady knew what 
 he was about. She did n't mean exactly what she said. 
 
DAGUERREOTYPES. 
 
 .' DAGUERREOTYPES. 
 
 "WHAT artfulness!" said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 held her miniature in her hand, done in the highest style 
 of the daguerrean art. The features were radiant with 
 benevolence; the cap, close-fitted about her venerable 
 face, bore upon it the faded black ribbon, the memento 
 of ancient woe ; the close-folded kerchief about her neck- 
 was pinned with mathematical exactness, while from 
 beneath the cap border struggled a dark gray lock of 
 hair, like a withered branch in winter waving amid ac 
 cumulated snows. The specs and box were represented 
 upon the table by her side. The picture was like her, 
 and admiration marked every line of her countenance as 
 she spoke. 
 
 " What artfulness here is, and how nat' rally every lini 
 ment is brought out ! How nicely the dress is digested ! " 
 
 She was talking to herself all the while. 
 
 " Why, this old black lutestring, that I have worn twenty 
 year for Paul, looks as good as new, only it is a little 
 too short-waisted by a great deal. 0, Paul, Paul!" 
 sighed she, as she sat back in her chair and gazed, with 
 a tear in her eye, upon an old smoke-stained profile, cut 
 in black, that had hung for many a year above the 
 mantel-piece. "O, Paul ! ^what a blessed thing this is, 
 where Art helps Natur, and Natur helps Art, and they 
 both help one another ! How I wish I had your dear old 
 phismahogany done like this ! I 'd prize it more than 
 gold or silver." 
 7 
 
74 THAT AND THAT. 
 
 She sat still, ami looked alternately at the daguerreo 
 type and the profile, as if she hoped the profile would 
 speak to her ; but it still looked rigidly forward, thrust 
 ing out its huge outline of nose as if pvoud of it, and 
 then with a sigh she reclasped the case ^nd deposited the 
 picture in the upper drawer of the old black bureau in 
 the corner. Ike was all the while burning holes through 
 a pine shingle with one of Mrs. Partington's best knit 
 ting-needles. 
 
 THAT AND THAT. 
 
 " You do make that child look like a fool, wife, with 
 all that toggery on him," said Mr. Fog angrily, as they 
 were starting out for a walk. " Dear me," says Mrs. 
 Partington, meeting them at the door, ' ; what a doll of a 
 baby, and how much he resembles his papa ! " Mr. Fog 
 coughed, and they passed along. 
 
ON POLITICS. 75 
 
 ON POLITICS. 
 
 "As regards these electrical matters," said Mrs. 
 PartingtOQ, just before election, she lived on a main 
 street, and the cheering and noise of parties passing her 
 door kept her awake o' nights, "I don't sec the use 
 of making so much fuss about it. Why don't they take 
 some one and give him their sufferings, if he has n't got 
 any of his own, and let him be governor till he dies, 
 just as they do the judges, and arter wards too, as they 
 sometimes do them, for they might as well be dead, a 
 good many of 7 em ? 0, this confusion of noise and 
 hubbub ! My poor head aches o' hearing of it, and Isaac 
 has got sich a cold, looking out of the window at the 
 possessions without nothing on the head. And then 
 what critters they all be, to be sure ! their newspa 
 pers are brim full of good resolutions, but ne'eraone of 
 7 em did lever know 'em to keep. They are always 
 resolving, like the showman's resolving views, and one 
 resolution fades away jest as quick as another comes. 
 If I could have my way, I would " 
 
 " Hooray ! here they come ! :) cried Ike, breaking in 
 upon the old lady's remarks, and banging his slate on 
 the floor, and throwing up the window with a vehemence 
 that broke two squares of glass. 
 
 " Hooray ! " came up in a big chorus from the street, 
 filling Mrs. Partington's little chamber, to its utmost 
 capacity, with " hooray," the great element of political 
 life. 
 
76 OLD ROGER AT THE LOWELL INSTITUTE. 
 
 " There they go agin," cried she, " with their drums 
 and lanterns, like crazy critters, and keeping folks awake 
 when they ought to be in the arms of Murphy ! " 
 
 Ike pulled in his head and dropped the window, and 
 the good old lady mended the fracture of the glass by a 
 hat and a pair of pants of Ike's, with the threat of severe 
 punishment if he ever did so again. But do you sup 
 pose she would have kept it ? Ike knew better. When 
 the glazier came in the next day to mend the window, she 
 had to tell him the story of how it was broke, but all the 
 blame was on the politicians. 
 
 " DON'T crowd so, good woman," said old Roger, at 
 the Lowell Institute, as he was waiting his turn to give 
 his name. " Don't crowd so ! " and, looking over his 
 shoulder, he met the reproachful glance of Mrs. Part- 
 ington herself, who was there for the same purpose. He 
 immediately gave way to her, and the next morning 
 found himself not divisible by 7, nor anything like it. 
 " So much for politeness ! " growled old Roger; " she '11 
 get all the Natural Religion now ; and much good may 
 it do her! " You would have smiled to see the spiteful 
 manner in which the little man said this. 
 
BEAUTIFUL REFLECTION INTERRUPTED. 77 
 
 BEAUTIFUL REFLECTION INTERRUPTED. 
 
 " DEAR me ! " said Mrs. Partington ; and so she is 
 dear, not that she meant so, because under that black 
 bonnet is humility, and self-praise forms no part of her. 
 reflection. It was a simple ejaculation, that was all ; 
 our word for it. " Dear me I here they are going to have 
 war again over the sea, and only for a Turkey, and it 
 don't say how much it weighed either, nor whether it 
 was tender; and Prince Knockemstiff has gone off in a 
 miff, and the Rushin bears and Austriches are all to be 
 let loose to devour the people, and Heaven knows where 
 the end of it will leave off War is a dreadful thing 
 so destroying to temper and good clo'es, and men shoot 
 at each other jest as if they was gutter purchase, and 
 cheap at that." 
 
 How sorrowfully the cover of the snuff-box shut, as 
 she ceased speaking ! and the spectacles looked dewy, 
 like a tumbler in summer-heat filled with ice-water, as 
 she looked at the profile of the corporal, with the sprig 
 of sweet fern above it, and the old sword behind the 
 door. 
 
 What did Ike mean as he stole in, and deposited some 
 red article under the cricket upon which her feet rested, 
 and then stole out again 7 
 
 A hissing sound followed crack ! snap f bang ! 
 whiz! went a bunch of crackers and Mrs. Partington, 
 in consternation and cloth slippers, danced about the 
 room, forgetful of distant war in her present alarm. 
 
 Ah, Jke!, 
 
78 APPOINTING INSPECTORS. 
 
 APPOINTING INSPECTORS. 
 
 "INSPECTORS of customs!" said Mrs. Partington, 
 energetically, as she laid down the paper chronicling 
 some new appointment. Here -was a new idea, that 
 broke upon her mind like a ray of sunshine through a 
 corn barn. 
 
 " Inspectors of customs ! " and she looked up at the 
 rigid profile of the old corporal, as if she would ask what 
 he had to say about it ; but that warrior had hung there 
 too long to be now disturbed by trifles, and he took no 
 notice of her. 
 
 " Inspectors of customs ! " continued she, as she 
 turned her attention to the old black teapot, and then 
 turned out the tea, which celestial beverage gurgled 
 through the spout, in harmony with her reflections, not 
 too strong; "that's a new idea to me. But, thank 
 Providence, I ha* n't got no customs that I hadn't as 
 lives they 'd inspect as not ; only I 'd a little rather 
 they would n't. I wish everybody could say so, but 
 I'm afeard there are many custom? that won't bear 
 looking into. Well, let every tub stand on its own bot 
 tom, I say I won't cast no speciousncss on nobody. 
 But I don't sec what they wanted to appoint any more 
 for, and be to so much suspense when every place has so 
 many in it that will inspect customs for nothing. If 
 they'd only make my next-door neighl>or, Miss Juniper, 
 now, an inspector of customs, they would n't need 
 another for a long ways, that 's mortally sartin." 
 
MRS. PARTINGTON AT TEA. 
 
 She stirred her souchong as she ruminated, untasting, 
 and Ike helped himself, unheeded, to the last preserved 
 pear there was in the dish. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AT TEA. 
 
 "ADULTERATED tea! "said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 read in the Transcript an account of the adulteration of 
 teas in England, at which she was much shocked. " I 
 
 O ' 
 
 wonder if this is adulterated ] " and she bowed her head 
 over the steaming and fragrant decoction in the cup be 
 fore her. whose genial odors mingled with the silvery 
 vapor, and encircled her venerable poll like a halo. 
 "It smells virtuous." continued she, smiling with satis 
 faction, li and I know this Shoo-shon tea must be good, 
 because I bought it of Mr. Shoo-shon himself, at Red- 
 
 O 7 
 
 ding's. Adulterated ! " she meandered on, pensively 
 as a brook in June, "and it's agin the comntand- 
 ment, too, which says don't break that, Isaac ! " as 
 she saw that interesting juvenile amusing himself with 
 making refracted sunbeams dance upon the wall, and 
 around the dark profile, and among the leaves of the 
 sweet fern, like yellow butterflies or fugitive chips of 
 new June butter. The alarm for her crockery <li pelle<l 
 all disquietude about the tea. and she sipped her beverage, 
 all oblivious of dele-tea-rious infusions. 
 
80 
 
 SIR, YOU OWE ME A CENT. 
 
 SIR, YOU OWE ME A CENT. 
 
 THER things may be great, " 
 said old Roger with a nod, 
 " besides what 's called so : 
 some very little thing, if ? t is 
 done well, can be a great one : 
 in impudence, say, for in- 
 ''' stance. Yesterday a boy 
 Basked me pitifully for a four- 
 : | pence ; I gave him what I 
 thought to be one, and passed 
 on. Presently I felt a twitch 
 at my coat-tail, and looked 
 round, and there stood the boy. 
 * Sir.' says he, 'you mrp. nir a cent this 'ere won't 
 pass* for but five cents it "s crossed ! ' I gave the 
 little rascal a shilling at once; I could n't help it. The 
 thing was sublime, admirable; hang me if it wasn't." 
 And the little man struck his cane violently on the 
 ground, and laughed happily at the supreme impudence 
 displayed in the affair. 
 
GUESSING AT A NAME. 81 
 
 GUESSING AT A i\AME. 
 
 " DRIVE him out ! " screamed Mrs. Partington, as 
 Ike whistled in an immense house-dog, who perambu 
 lated the kitchen, dotting the newly- washed floor with 
 flowers of mud, and audaciously smelling Mrs. Parting- 
 ton's toes, as the old lady stood up in a chair to avoid 
 him. 
 
 " Drive him out. What is his name. Isaac ? " 
 
 " Guess," replied Ike. 
 
 "I can't, I know. Perhaps it 'a Watch, or Ponto, or 
 Caesar what is it?" 
 
 " Why, Guess." 
 
 " I tell you I can't guess. Perhaps it ? s Hector, or 
 Tiger, or Rover what is his name ? " 
 
 "Guess." 
 
 " 0, you provoking creator! I'll be tempered to whip 
 you within an inch of your skin if you provoke me so. 
 Why don't you tell me ? " 
 
 "I did tell you the first time," whined Ike, pulling 
 the dog's ear with one hand while he wiped his dry eyes 
 with the other, " his name is Guess." 
 
 The old kdy was melted by his emotion, and, as soon 
 as the dog was sent out, some nice quince jelly settled 
 the difficulty. 
 
 "He is sich a queer child!" murmured she; "so 
 bright ! I suppose 't was because he was weaned on 
 pickles." 
 
 Ike ate his preserves in silenco, but his eye was on the 
 
BURNING WATER. 
 
 acorn on the post of the old lady's high-backed chair, 
 and he thought what a nice top it would make if he 
 could saw it off some day. 
 
 BURNING TT.ATER. 
 
 " WELL, this is a discovery I ? ' exclaimed Mrs. Part- 
 ington smilingly, as she stood with a small picture in her 
 right hand, her left resting upon the pine table, and her 
 eyes fixed upon the flame of a glass larrp, that sputtered 
 for a moment and then shot out a gleam of cheerful 
 light that irradiated every part of the little kitchen, 
 revealing the portrait of Paul upon the wall and Ike 
 asleep by the fire. She spoke to herself it was a way 
 she had and she met with no contradiction from that 
 quarter. " This is a discovery. This lamp was almost 
 burnt out, and I; ? vc filled it up with water, and it burns 
 like the real ile." The experiment was perfectly 
 triumphant ; the problem of light from water was 
 demonstrated : and yet, with this vast fact revealed 
 to her, Mrs. Partington, with a modesty equal to that of 
 the great philosopher who picked up a pocket-full of 
 rocks on the shore of the vast ocean of Truth, smiled 
 with delight at her discovery, nor once thought of putting 
 out a patent or selling rights was entirely willing all 
 might burn water that could. 
 
A STRIKING MANIFESTATION. 83 
 
 A STRIKING MANIFESTATION. 
 
 believe in sperituous knockings," said Mrs. 
 Partington, solemnly, as some things were related to her 
 which had been seen, that appeared very mysterious. 
 " I can't believe about it; for I know, if Paul could come 
 back, he would rcvulge himself to me here, and 
 would n't make me run a mile only to get a few dry 
 knocks. Strange that the world should be so supersti- 
 tional as to believe sich a rapsody. or think a spcrrit can 
 go knocking about like a boy in vexation, //can't 
 believe it, and I don't know r s I could if that teapot 
 there was to jump off the table right afore my eyes ! ' ' She 
 paused, and through the gloom of approaching darkness 
 could be seen the determined expression of her mouth. 
 A slight movement was -heard upon the table, and the 
 little black teapot moved from its position, crawled 
 slowly up the wall, and then hung passively by the side 
 of the profile of the ancient corporal f The old lady 
 could not speak, but- held up her hands in wild amaze 
 ment, while her snuff-box fell from her nerveless grasp 
 and rolled along upon the sanded floor. She left the 
 room to procure a light, and, as soon as she had gone, 
 the teapot was lowered by the invisible hand to its 
 original station, and Ike stepped out from beneath the 
 table, stowing a long string away in his pocket, and 
 grinning prodigiously. 
 
84 IKE AXI THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 IKE AXD TILE ELEPHANT. 
 
 "WELL," said Ike, looking the elephant directly in 
 the eye, at the same time doubling up his huge fist, as 
 big as a half-cent bun, and putting on an air of defiance, 
 after the animal had stolen his gingerbread ; " well, you 
 got it, did n't you, you old thief, you ! I s r pose you 
 think you ? ve done thunderin' great things, don't you ? 
 For my part, I don't call it no better 7 n stealing. 0, 
 you may stand there and swing that ridic'lous-looking 
 trunk O T your'n just as much as you r re a mind to ; you 
 can't skeer a fellow, / tell you ! This is a free country, 
 old club-feet; and you an't agoing to tike any more 
 liberties here like that. " I can tell you it won't be safe for 
 that Ingee-rubber hide o' yourn, if you do ! You take 
 my gingerbread away agin, if you dare, that T s all ! You 
 just try it, you ongainly reptile, you ! O, you may look 
 saucy, and pretend you don't keer, but you just say two 
 words, just knock that chip off my head, and if I don't 
 give you fits my name an't Ike Partington, that r s all ! 
 Just put down that big Ingee-rubber bludgeon, and I '11 
 black your eyes for you, you old tough-leather ! You 
 darsn't say a word, you ill-mannered old hunch I I'd 
 knock your eye-teeth out, if you did. 0, take it up, if 
 you 're a mind to ; you need n't think to bully it over 
 me, because you 're a little biggern I am, I can tell you. 
 We don't stand no such nonsense as that, round here. 
 If 'twarn't for that p'leceman looking here, I'd pitch 
 into yon like a thousand o ? bricks. / would n't get out 
 
A SUBSTITUTE; 85 
 
 o* your way as people do when you come along, and I 
 should like to see you just stop on my toes why can't 
 you just try it now, will you 'I I guess I *d make you 
 hear thunder with them leather-apron ears o' your'n, 
 you big overgrown vagabond, you ! 7 T aVt no use o' 
 talking to you, but I shall be here, and, if you don't mind 
 your eye, I r ll lick you like blazes afore I go out." 
 Here Isaac undoubled his hands, and, shaking his head 
 
 t I O 
 
 threateningly at the huge animal, he went over to get a 
 look at the monkeys ; while the elephant lazily swung 
 his trunk from side to side, and good-naturedly fanned 
 himself with his big ears, as if he had n't minded a word 
 the little fellow had said. 
 
 A SUBSTITUTE. 
 
 " I HAVE x'T.got any money," said Mrs. Partington, 
 as the box came round at the close of a charity lecture ; 
 " but here ? s a couple of elegant sausages I have brought 
 that you can give the poor creturs ! " The box-holder 
 looked confounded - the people smiled. With her view 
 of charity, she saw nothing wrong in the act. Bless 
 thee, Mrs. Partington ! angels shall record the deed on 
 the credit side of thy account, and where hearts are 
 judged shall thy simple gift weigh like gold in the day 
 of award. 
 
 8 
 
t 
 
 86 WHOLESOME ADVICE. 
 
 WHOLESOME ADVICE. 
 
 " ISAAC," said Mrs. Partington, as that interesting 
 juvenile was playing a game of "knuckle up" against 
 the kitchen wall, to the imminent danger of the old 
 clock which ticked near by, u this is a marvellous age, 
 as Deacon Babson says, and perhaps there 's no harm in 
 'em, but I 'm afeard no good '11 come out of it no good 
 at all for you to keep playing marvels all the time, 
 as you do. I am afeard you will learn how to gambol, 
 and become a bad boy, and forget all the good device I 
 have given you. Ah ! it would break my soul, Isaac, to 
 have you given to naughty tricks, like some wicked boys 
 that I know, who will be rakeshames in the airth if they 
 don't die before their time comes. So. don't gambol, 
 dear, and always play as if you had just as lieves the 
 minister would see you as not.'' She 'handed him a 
 little bag she had made for him to keep his marbles in. 
 and patted h: head kindly as he went again to play. 
 Ike was fortified, for the next five minutes, against 
 temptation to do evil ; but 
 
 ** Chase span, in the ring, 
 Knuckle up, or anything," 
 
 are potent when arrayed against out-of-sight solicitude, 
 and we fear that the boy forgot. There is much reason 
 in the old lady's fear. 
 
A GHOST STORY. 87 
 
 A GHOST STORY. 
 
 Ix the vicinity of a town not many miles from Boston 
 was a dark glen, by the roadside, reputed to he haunted. 
 A traveller had .been found here, many years before, 
 frozen to death, and his troubled spirit, with a disposi 
 tion to trouble everybody else, was said nightly to visit 
 the scene of his mortal termination, to have a "melan 
 choly satisfaction " all alone by himself, or with but such 
 auditors as he could press in to -participate in the '' ser 
 vices of the evening.' 7 An old fellow, who resided in 
 the town, and was fully imbued with the superstition, 
 had been one night to a husking, where the milk-punch 
 had circulated with more than common generosity, and 
 though c: na fou, r? he had enough on board to make him 
 comfortable and happy and 
 
 * ' glorious, 
 
 O'er all the ills of life victorious." 
 
 Towards the hour of breaking up, the conversation 
 turned upon the ghost, by whose dark hunting-ground 
 our friend had to pass, over a road raised up amid an 
 alder swamp, whose sad gloom could hardly be dispelled 
 by a noon-day sun, and where nothing but a ghost of the 
 most simple sort would wish to abide. 
 
 ** Wi* tippenny we fear nae evil, 
 Wi' us(|uebae we '11 face the devil," 
 
 Burns said ; and milk-punch we suppose to be about the 
 same in its courage-inspiring properties. Our hero 
 
88 A GHOST STORY. 
 
 snapped his fingers at danger from ghosts and unholy 
 angels, and cared for neither a "bodle." It was a mile- 
 walk, good, to the spiritual precinct, and, thinking on 
 his way that it would be the part of prudence to prepare 
 for emergency, before he came to the il:irk gulf he was 
 to pass, he gathered a small artillery from a stone wall, 
 determined, if assaulted, to do battle manfully, for the 
 credit of the punch. 
 
 lie had crossed a little brook that murmured beneath 
 the rude bridge above it, and had fairly got through 
 the dangerous part, as he considered it, of his journey, 
 and muttered to himself, in rather a tone of disappoint 
 ment, "I guess he must be sick; fog isn't good for 
 him," when, lo ! almost directly in the path before him 
 was an object that made him come to a stand at once. 
 It was all ghostly white, and he had barely time to look 
 at it, when a hideous groan came towards him on the 
 night air, which the milk-punch could hardly counteract 
 in its effect on his nervous system. Rallying, however, 
 he selected a missile and let fly at his ghostly obstructor ; 
 another groan, like the List bellow .of expiring nature, 
 answered this assault. lie hurled another huge stone, 
 and, gathering courage from the excitement, he blazed 
 away in a manner that woulij astonish either human or 
 superhuman antagonists, but without any apparent effect 
 upon the adversary, who stood his ground manfully, 
 or, perhaps we should say, ghostfuUy. As the last 
 stone of his ammunition was expended, however, with a 
 cry that echoed fearfully through the alders, the ghost 
 rushed towards him, and a violent shock laid him sense 
 less upon the ground, a vanquished man. lie was found 
 
A DANGEROUS POSITION. 89 
 
 the next morning pensively sitting by the road-si.de, 
 contemplating the scene of his night's exploit, with his 
 head in his hand. 
 
 He told his story, and pointed to the scattered missiles 
 for proof of what he had done ; and he was believed, for 
 u to give up the ghost" was out of the question. But, 
 on going home, a small white two-year-old bull was seen 
 grazing by the road-side, and suspicion for a moment 
 crossed their minds that this might have been the ghost, 
 after all, seen through the medium of the punch ; but this 
 would have been voted rank heresy against the ancient 
 institution of ghosts, and they held their peace. 
 
 A DANGEROUS POSITION. 
 
 " DON'T lay in that postur. dear," said Mrs. Parting- 
 ton to Ike, who was stretched upon a settle, with his heels 
 a foot or two higher than his head. ." Don't lay so ; raise 
 yourself up, and put this pillow under you. I knew a 
 young man once who hail a suggestion of the brain in 
 consequence of laying so his brains all run down into 
 his head !" and with this admonition she left him, to 
 practise, soon after, the hazardous experiment of. tying 
 his legs in a bow knot round his neck, as he had seen 
 Professor Baldwin do. 
 8* 
 
90 A LESSON OX SYMPATHY. 
 
 A LESSON ON SYMPATHY. 
 
 " WHAT a to-do they arc making about this Cosset ! " 
 said Mrs. Purtington, smilingly. The news had reached 
 her car of the triumphs of Kossuth. and the name had 
 assumed a form, ami that form recalled a train of pe 
 culiar and characteristic associations, and she went on 
 like an eight-day clock : " A cosset is a pretty thing in 
 a family where there's children, and they are dear 
 critters for girls that hasn't got sweethearts to invent 
 their young affectations on ; but what r s the use of making 
 sich a fuss about it ? " 
 
 : " But this is Kos-si/.'/i, aunt, the great Hungarian," 
 said Ike, tremendously, who was well posted up in pass 
 ing matters; u who has come over here to ask our sym 
 pathy, ami enlist us in behalf of his country." 
 
 '."Well," said she, as the new light dawned upon 
 her, li they may have our sympathy 'in welcome, 'cause 
 it don't cost anything; but we mustn't 'list and give 
 'em money, that would be agin our constitutions! " 
 
 And the prudent dame drummed thoughtfully on her 
 snuff-l)ox cover, with her eyes fixed upon the vane of 
 the Old South, while Ike amused himself by scratching 
 " Kf)sS/iT{[," with a fork, on the end of the new 
 japanned waiter. 
 
HOW IKE DROPPED THE CAT. 
 
 91 
 
 HO\V IKE DROPPED THE CAT. 
 
 0\v, Isaac." said Mrs. Part- 
 ington, as she came into the 
 room with a basket snugly 
 covered over, ;i take our 
 Tabby, and drop her some 
 where, and see that she don't 
 come back again, for I am 
 sick and tired of driving her 
 out of the butter. She is the 
 thievinest creatur ! But don't 
 hurt her, Isaac ; only take care 
 t j ul t s l ie Joii't come back.' 7 
 Ike smiled as he received his charge, and the old lady 
 felt happy in. getting rid of her trouble without resorting 
 to violence. She would rather have endured the evil of 
 the eat, great as that evil was, than that the poor quad 
 ruped should be inhumanly dealt with. She saw Ike 
 depart, in the dusk of the evening, and watched him 
 until he became lost to view in the shadow of a tree. It 
 was a full half hour before he returned with his empty 
 basket, and an unusual glee marked his apj>earance, it 
 sparkled in his eye, it glowed in his cheek, it sported in 
 his hair, and Ike looked really handsome, as he stood 
 before the dame, and proclaimed the success of his 
 mission. 
 
 "Did she drop easy, Isaac ? " asked the old lady, 
 
^ HOW IKE DROPPED THE CAT. 
 
 looking upon him kindly, "and won't she como 
 back?" 
 
 " She dropt just as easy !' ' said Ike, letting his basket 
 fall on the floor, and shying his cap upon the table, some 
 what endangering a gl :ss lamp with a wooden bottom 
 that stood thereon; "hhc dropt just as easy! and she 
 won't come back you may bet high on that." 
 
 " But you did n't beat and mangle her, Isaac, did 
 you ? If you did I should be afraid she would come back 
 and haunt us -I have heard of such things;" and she 
 looked anxiously in his face ; but, detecting there no trace 
 of guilt, she patted him on the head, and parted his hair, 
 and told him to sit down and cat his supper, which the 
 young gentleman did with considerable unction. 
 
 " Isaac ! Isaac ! " scretmed Mrs. Partington, at the 
 foot of the little stairway that led to the attic where the 
 boy slept, the next morning after the above occurrence. 
 "Isaac!" and he came down stairs slowly, rubbing 
 his eyes as he came. She had disturbed his morning 
 nap. 
 
 " Isaac," said she, " what is that hanging yender to a 
 limb of our apple-tree?" One scattering tree, as she 
 said, constituted her whole orchard, unless she counted 
 the poplar by the corner. 
 
 " I can't see so fur off," said Ike, still rubbing his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Well, /should think it was a cat; and it looks to 
 me like our Tabby. 0, Isaac ! if you have done this ! " 
 and a tone akin to horror trembled in her voice. 
 
 "I'll go and see if it 's her," said Ike, as if not hear 
 ing the last part of her remark ; and he dashed out of 
 
HOW IKE DROPPED THE CAT. 93 
 
 the door, but soon came back, with wonder depicted on 
 every feature of his expressive countenance. " 0, it 's 
 her ! sure enough, it 'a her ! " cried he, " but I did drop 
 her!" 
 
 ;i Well, how could she conie there then?'' 7 and the 
 good old lady looked puzzled. 
 
 "141 tell you how I guess it was," said Ike, looking 
 demurely up. " I guess that she committed suicide, 
 because we was going to drop her ; they are dreadful 
 knowing critters, you know." 
 
 " True enough," replied the old lady, while something 
 like a tear glistened in her eye her pity i* s excited ; 
 " true enough, Isaac, and I dare say she thought hard of 
 us for doing it ; but she had n't ought to if she 'd have 
 considered a minute." 
 
 Ike said no more, but went out and cut down the sup 
 posed suicide, with a serious manner, and buried her 
 beneath her gallows, deep down among the roots of the 
 old tree, and she never came back. 
 
 The old lady told the story to the minister, and Ike 
 vouched for it, but the good man shook his head incredu 
 lously at the idea of the suicide, and looked at the boy. 
 He very evidently understood how the cat was dropped. 
 
STOPPING A 'BUS. 
 
 STOPPING A 'BUS. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTOX had watched three quarters of an 
 hour for an omnibus, and she swung her umbrella as one 
 drove up, and the driver stopped his horses near where 
 she stood. ; 
 
 " Xow, Isaac,'' says she, feeling in Irer reticule 
 for a copper, away down under the handkerchief, and 
 snuff-box, and knitting-work, and thread-case, and 
 needle-book, "be 'a good boy, dear, while I am gone, 
 and don't cause a constellation among the neighbors, as 
 some boys do, and there 's a cent for you ; and be sure 
 you don't lay it out extravagantly, now ; and lx) keerful 
 you don't break the windows ; and if. anybody rings at 
 the door, be sure and see who it is before you open it, 
 because there is so many dishonest rogues about ; if any 
 porpoises come a begging give 'em what was left of the 
 dinner, Heaven bless ? em, and much good may it do 
 
 'em ! and why, bless me ! if the omnibus has n't 
 
 gone off, and left me standing here in the middle of the 
 street. Such impudence is without a parable." 
 
 Her spectacles gleamed indignantly down the street, 
 after the disappearing 'bus, and, for a moment, anger had 
 the mastery ; but equanimity, like twilight, came over her 
 mind, and she waited for the next 'bus, with calmness on 
 her face, and her green cotton umbrella under her arm. 
 
AFTER A WEDDING. 95 
 
 AFTER A WEDDING. 
 
 "I LIKE to tend weddings," said Mrs. Partington, us 
 she came back from a neighboring church, where one had 
 been celebrated, and hung up her shawl, and replaced 
 the black bonnet in the long-preserved bandbox. " I 
 like to see young people come together with the promise 
 to love, cherish, and nourish each other. But it is a 
 solemn thing, is matrimony, a very solemn thing, 
 where the pasture comes into the chancery, with his sur 
 plus on, and goes through with the cerement of making 
 'em man and wife. It ought to be husband and wife ; 
 for it aVt every husband that turns out a man. I 
 declare I shall never forget how I felt when I had the 
 auptual ring put on to my finger, when Paul said, 
 1 With my goods I thee endow/ He. used to keep a dry- 
 goods store then, and I thought he was going to give 
 me all there was in it. I was young and simple, and 
 did n't know till arterwards that it only meant one 
 calico gound in a year. It is a lovely sight to see the 
 young people plighting their trough, and coining up to 
 consume their vows." 
 
 She bustled about and got tea ready, but abstract 
 edly she put on the broken teapot, that had lain away 
 unused since Paul was alive, and the teacups, mended 
 with putty, and dark with age, as if the idea had conjured 
 the ghost of past enjoyment to dwell for the moment in 
 the home of present widowhuud. 
 
96 MRS. PARTINGTON IN THE MARKET. 
 
 A young lady, who expected to be married on Thanks 
 giving night, wept copiously at her remarks, but kept 
 on hemming the veil that was to adorn her brideship, 
 and Ike sat pulling bristles out of the hearth-brush in 
 expressive silence. . 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON IN THE MARKET. 
 
 " I WONDER what they mean by a better feeling in the 
 market?' 7 said Mrs. Partington, looking up from the 
 newspaper which she was reading, and the problem 
 deeply agitated her mind, revealed in the vibration of 
 her cap-border. Her address was directed to nobody in 
 particular. It was a little private wonder, got up for 
 her own amusement. The market, and the deaths and 
 marriages, were Mrs. P.'s favorite study in the Weekly 
 Chronicle, but some of the mercantile phrases were at 
 times imperfectly understood. "I wonder what they 
 mean? I'm shore / don't feel any better there, and 
 I don't believe anybody does but the butchers, and 
 that's when they are pocketing the money, things is 
 so dear ! But," continued she, brightening up, " I 
 should like to see the trade embracing ten hogsheads of 
 tobacco, that I see here printed about. That must have 
 been a real tetching sight." She thought of Paul, and 
 the association brought out the cotton handkerchief with 
 the Constitution and Guerriere upon it, and she discon 
 tinued. 
 

i'ARTINGTON PHILOSOPHY. 07 
 
 PARTOGTON PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 BEFORE the railroad company bought , and tore down 
 the Partington mansion, and uprooted and overturned the 
 old family shrines without regard to their sacredness, 
 the Vandals ! turning the good old heart that worship 
 ped there out upon the world to seek new tics amid new 
 scenes, it was Mrs. Partington's delight to gather friends 
 about her at Thanksgiving time, and the time-honored 
 season passed very happily. Amid the festivities hei 
 benignity would beam with such a radiance, that the red 
 seed peppers upon the wall looked ruddier in its genial 
 glow, and the bright tin pans upon the shelf seemed 
 brimful of sunshine, and smiled out upon all who looked 
 at them. 
 
 There were fine times at the Partington mansion at 
 Thanksgiving, you may depend. She did n't keep Christ 
 mas, she was puritan ical in her religious notions, and 
 ? tended the Old Xorth meeting-house for a third of a 
 century, and took pride in saying that she had never been 
 to church ; a nice distinction which we leave the old 
 folks to make, Christmas was a church holiday, un- 
 sanctioned by a governor's proclamation, and she would 
 none of it ;. she scented in it the garment of the disrep 
 utable Babylonish female, mentioned in the Apocalypse, 
 and avoided it. But it is Thanksgiving that we are 
 
 speaking about now Well, well, what has all this to 
 
 do with patience? : Have patience, darling, and we '11 
 tell you an instance of pationt resignation under disap- 
 9 
 
98 PARTINGTOX PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 pointmcnt, not surpassed since Newton's dog Diamond 
 committed an incendiary act, and his master gravely in 
 formed the quadruped that he was not probably aware ol" 
 the extent of the damage he had committed ; which was 
 doubtless the fact. 
 
 It was the custom with Mrs. P. to shut up a turkey 
 previous to Thanksgiving, in order that he might be nice 
 and fat for the generous season. One year the gobbler 
 had thus been penned, lite a sonnet, with reference to 
 Thanksgiving, and anticipations were indulged of the 
 " good time coming;" but, alas! the brightest hopes must 
 fade. The turkey, when looked for, was not to be found. 
 It had been stolen away ! Upon discovering her great 
 loss, Mrs. P. was for a moment overcome with surprise 
 disconcerted; but the sun of her benevolence soon 
 broke the clouds away, and spread over her features like 
 new butter upon hot biscuit, and with a smile, warm with 
 the feeling of her heart, she said " I hope they will 
 find it tender ! I guess ire can be thankful on pork 
 and cabbage! r? 
 
 "Say, ye severest, what would ye have clone" 
 
 under such circumstances ? You would, perhaps, have 
 raved, and stamped, and swore, and made yourself gen 
 erally ridiculous, besides perilling your soul in the excess 
 of your anger. But Mrs. P. did n't, arid there is where 
 you and she differ. She stood calmly and tranquilly 
 u living lesson of philosophical patience undtrr extreme 
 difficulty. Wo cite this example that the world may 
 profit by it. . . 
 
FILIAL DUTY V9. WASHING-POWDER. 99 
 
 FILIAL DUTY i*. WASHING-POWDER. 
 
 " CHILDREN of the present day," sighed the Rev. 
 Adoniram Spaid, as he was visiting Mrs. Partington 
 during the spring anniversaries "children of the 
 present day, ma'ain, sadly ruffle the bosoms of their 
 parents.' 7 
 
 He crossed his legs as he spoke, and tied his hand 
 kerchief in a hard knot over his knee, at the same 
 time looking at Ike through the back window, as that 
 young gentleman was performing a slack- rope exercise 
 upon the clothes-line, endangering the caps and hand 
 kerchiefs that swung like banners in the breeze. Mrs. 
 Partington suspended washing, and looked round at her 
 visitor, at the same time wiping her hands to take a 
 pinch of snuff. 
 
 "Yes, sir/' she said, " I think so; but it isn't so 
 bad, either, as it used to be before the soap-powder was 
 found out." 
 
 Mr. Spaid fjuietly protested that he could not see the 
 relevancy of the remark. 
 
 " Why," continued she, inhaling the rappee, and hand 
 ing the box to the minister, "then it was a great labor 
 to wash and do 'em up ; but now the washing- powder 
 makes it so easy, that the children can rumple bosoms 
 or anything else with perfect impurity. We don't make 
 nothing of it. I consider washing-powder" holding 
 up a pair of ike's gallig,u>kins that had ju^t gone through 
 
100 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 
 
 a course of purification u as a great blessing to moth 
 ers." 
 
 The minister smiled, and thought ivhat a curious 
 proposition it would be, in the " Society for the Mitiga 
 tion of Everything," to recommend washing-powder as 
 an. auxiliary to other operative blessings, and thanked 
 Mrs. Partimrton for the hint. 
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 
 
 OLD ROGER came down stairs, one Sunday morning, 
 with a face unusually animated, and stood, with his 
 hands behind his back, playing nervously with the tails 
 of his coat. The breakfast was waiting for him, the fish- 
 balls were getting cold, the coffee was evaporating ; but 
 he did n't seem to care. He leaned over the back of the 
 landlady's chair, and asked tar, in a whisper, if she 
 could tell him why a dyspeptic was out of immediate 
 danger when his disease was most distressing. She 
 looked earnestly at the top of the teapot a few moments, 
 and then said that for the life of her she could n't tell. 
 A curiosity was evinced by the boarders, and they asked 
 what it was. They all gave it up, too. " Why," said 
 he, looking very red, " it is because he can't di-gcst 
 then." Drawing his chin within his stock, the old fel 
 low laughed lustily, and in his paroxysm threw his anus 
 around the landlady's neck for support; but she threw 
 them off very indignantly, for the boarders were all look 
 ing at her. lie then sat down to bmikfast with a good 
 appetite. 
 
RATHER A RASCAL. 101 
 
 RATHER A RASCAL. 
 
 "Mus. PAUTIXUTOX, your neighbor, Mr-. Gruff, is 
 rather irascible, I think," said the Jiew minister on his 
 first visit to the old lady, as he heard Gruff scolding Ike 
 for throwing snow-balls at his new martin-house.. Gruff 
 kept a grocery over the way, and was in a constant 
 quarrel with every boy in the. neighborhood. Mrs. Purt- 
 ington looked at the minister through her spectacles 
 inquiringly before she answered. 
 
 u Rather a rascal ! " said she, slightly misapprehend 
 ing his question, and patting her box affectionately ; " yes, 
 indeed, I think he is. a great rascal ! lie sold me burnt 
 peas for the best coffee, once, and it was n't weight, 
 nuther. When they built our new church, somebody 
 said there was a nave in it, and I know'd in a minute 
 who they meant. Why '' 
 
 t; I mean/' interrupted the minister, blandly, laying 
 his white hand gently on his arm.- " I mean that he is 
 quick-tempered. : 7 
 
 "0, that's quite another thing yes, he is very," 
 and she changed the subject. But that word "irascible" 
 ran in her head for an hour after he was gone, and 
 when Ike came in she told him to take down the old 
 Johnson's Decency and find the defamation of it. 
 
 9* 
 
J02 TUB SENSITIVE MAN SEES A liLOOMKK. 
 
 THE SENSITIVE MAN SEES A 
 BLOOMER. 
 
 THE Sensitive Man came in, one day. just after dinner, 
 threw himself into a chair, and fainted. After a mug 
 or two of Cochituatc water had been dashed in his inter 
 esting face, he came to a little, gazed wildly upon the 
 circle that surrounded him, and said, in a sort of unearthly 
 whisper, " Where is she?" Nobody knew what he 
 meant. The fog, a moment later, rolled from his soul, 
 and he was enabled to explain, with the aid of some slight 
 stimulant. 
 
 A crowd in the street had obstructed his path, as 
 he walked pensively along with his eyes cast down. 
 Looking up, a vision of beauty hurst ujon his ravished 
 sight, and he stood entranced as he gazed upon it ; and 
 when it passed away with the crowd, he climbed upon an 
 omnibus and watched that object, through Ids tunneled 
 hand, until it became indistinct and lust in the distance. 
 That object was a BLOOMER! lie had long ardently 
 wished for this opportunity. In visions of the night had 
 angels in short dresses and trousers thrust themselves 
 among his sleeping fancies, to the bewilderment of his 
 waking thoughts. It had become, the great idea of his 
 mind, and all his other thoughts l>owed to this, as did 
 the sheaves of the Israelitish brethren to the sheaf of 
 Joseph of old. He had at last seen a J>loonier. The 
 climax of his earthly desire was attained. The driver of 
 
THE SENSITIVE MAN SEES A BLOOMER. 10'* 
 
 the 'bus, callous to the emotion of bis bosom, asked him 
 "what'n thunder he was a-looking at, up there?" 
 The Sensitive Man made but one step to the ground, so 
 buoyant was he, and be bounded like cork. He could 
 have leaped over the State-House. Little boys ami 
 sedate passengers stepped back dismayed, and a gentle 
 man in a black coat and white neckcloth looked around 
 anxiously after a policeman. What were policemen to 
 the Sensitive Man? Those terrific functionaries were 
 nothing ! Even the cold reality of a watch-house floor 
 would be soft as down, could he cany with him the 
 consciousness that he had seen a Bloomer. He looked 
 to see if her passing figure had not left its impression, in 
 aerial portraiture, upon the impalpable atmospbere. He 
 looked upon the pave to detect the print of her charming 
 foot upon the insensate bricks. But she had fled, like 
 some bright exhalation of the morning, and he turned 
 back sorrowing. A coach came nigh running over him. 
 The tension of his spirit relaxed, enduring only to 
 bring him within the precinct of his vocation, when his 
 too sensitive nature gave out, and the result was as 
 explained above. 
 
 And hourly, since, has he longingly gazed from the 
 window, in ardent hope of seeing again the beauteous 
 vision which had enthralled him, and disappointment, 
 
 * like & worm in the mud, 
 
 Feeds on his damage*! cheek.'* 
 
104 POWEll OF ATTORNEY. 
 
 POWER OF ATTORNEY. 
 
 WHEN. the widow Ames had been notified that her 
 share of the Paul Jones prize-money would be paid her 
 upon presenting herself at the Dummer Bank, she de 
 bated in her. own mind, though the debate never was 
 reported, whether she should go herself or give u 
 ^ower of attorney to some one else to receive the eleven 
 dollars and sixty-two cents that was her share. In this 
 strait she called on Mrs. Partington, who she knew 
 :had authorized a person to settle the Beanville estate for 
 her when the Beanville Railroad had driven her from 
 the homestead. 
 
 "'Go yourself, dear," said the old lady, bringing the 
 poker down emphatically upon the bail of the tea-kettle, 
 as she was clearing out the ashes from the stove ; 
 "don't trust to nobody but yourself, for,'' raising 
 the poker, c; if you give anybody power of eternity, 
 depend upon it you won't never see the final conclusion 
 of "it." 
 
 The poker fell again upon the harmless tea-kettle, 
 which scemc'l to sing out with reproach for the outrage, 
 and Ike, who w;is looking slyly into the back window, 
 wondered if Mrs. Ames wasn't sitting on a favorite piece 
 of spruce gum of his. and whether it would. n't stick her 
 to the chair so that she couldn't got up. It showed 
 that the boy had a reflective turn of mind. 
 
THE SEW DRESS FOR LADIES. 105 
 
 THE NEW DRESS FOR LADIES. 
 
 "A NEW custom for ladies!" said Mrs. Partington, 
 when a friend spoke to her about the proposed innovation 
 in dress. The sound of (t costume " came to her ear in 
 distinctly, and she slightly misapprehended the word. 
 " A new custom for ladies! I should think they had 
 better reform many of their old customs before they try 
 to get new ones. We 're none of us better than we ought 
 to be,, and" 
 
 " Costume, ma'am, I said," cried her informant, in 
 terrupting her; "they arc thinking .of changing their 
 dress!" 
 
 " Well, for my part I don't see what they want to 
 make a public thing of it for; changing the dress used 
 to be a private matter; but folks do so alter! They are 
 always a changing dresses now, like the caterpillar in 
 the morning that turns into a butterfly at night, or the 
 butterfly at night that turn.* to a caterpillar in the morn 
 ing, I don't know which" 
 
 " But," again interrupted her informant, " I mean 
 they are a going to have a new dress.*' 
 
 " 0, they are, are they 1 " replied the old lady ; " well, 
 I'm sure I'm glad on it, if they can afford it ; but they 
 don't always think enough of this. A good many can't 
 afford it they can't ! 15ut did you hear of the new 
 apperil for wimmin that sorm-body is talking about? " 
 
106 T11K.NKW DRKriS FOR LADIKS. 
 
 "Why, my dear Mrs. P.," said he, smiling, "that is 
 just what I was trying to get your opinion about." 
 
 " Then," returned she, " why did n't you say so in the 
 first place '.* Well, I don't know why a woman can't be 
 as vertuous in a short dress as in a long one ; and it will 
 save some trouble in wet weather to people who have to 
 lift their dresses and show their ankles. It may do for 
 young critters, as sportive as lambs in a pasture ; but 
 only think how I should look in short coats and trousers, 
 should n't I ? And old Mrs. Jones, who weighs three 
 hundred pounds, wouldn't look well in 'em neither. 
 But I say let 'cm do just what they please as long as 
 they don't touch my dress. I like the old way best, and 
 that 's the long and the short of it." 
 
 She here cast a glance at the profile on the wall, as 
 if for its approval of her resolution; and an idea for a 
 moment seemed to cross her mind that he, the ancient 
 corporal, would not know her, were he to visit sublunar 
 scenes and find her arrayed in the new dress ; and her 
 compressed lips showed the determination of her heart to 
 abide by the old costume, and she solemnly and slowly 
 took an energetic pinch of snuff, ?i$ if to confirm it. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY. 107 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 
 
 SENSITIVE people talk about feeling, in the presence 
 or atmosphere of* a man, the peculiar disposition that 
 governs him, whether a gentle or a stern one, 
 whether a hypocritical or a kravish one. We have 
 realized, m some degree, wliC the feeling must be, as 
 we have, at times, elbowed our way among the gentle 
 men who throng obout State or Wall street. The 
 atmosphere was p.*> hard that we shrank at once into our 
 empty pocket, a thing which finds no sympathy in 
 those diggings, and escaped as fast as possible. We 
 could read every disposition that we rubbed against, like 
 a book, or as well as the most subtle magician could do 
 it. The dollar was the idea that every brain was work 
 ing and struggling to coin itself into ; the dollar gleamed 
 in every eager glance of the eye, and was heard in every 
 wonl ; the dollar was the sun that shone and the air 
 that blew; and though celestial choirs had been at hand, 
 chanting the music of the spheres, unle,^ it had the right 
 chink to it, it would not have been regarded. Let 
 sensitive ones who have no money go down upon 'change 
 and try the experiment. It will not make them any 
 poorer, though most certainly they will not be any richer 
 by it. 
 
108 MATTER OF FACT. 
 
 MATTER OF FACT. 
 
 " SHAKSPEARE 's well enough," said Mr. Slow, "but 
 he don ? t come up to my idee of po'try. There is too 
 .much of your hifulutin humbug about him. What he 
 says don't seem to 'mount to nothing. As for Fulstaff, 
 he's a miser'ble and disreputable old iellow, and Hamliek *s 
 as mad as a bed-bug. Why dkt n't he knock his old 
 father-in-law over, and done with it, and not make sich a 
 hilliholu about it ? Shakspeare is n't what he is cracked 
 up to be, and if he does n't improve, I would n't give two 
 per cent, for his chance of immortality. Who b'leves 
 this 'ere, for instance ? 
 
 * Orpheus' Into was strung with poets* sinew*, 
 Whose golden touch couM soften steel ami stone*; 
 Make tigers tame, ami hu^e levithian* 
 Forsake unbounded deeps to dunce on sand! ' 
 
 That r s all gammon. Poets' sinews, indeed ! Dare say 
 'twas n't nothin' but catgut; and as fur its softening 
 steel and stones, and timing tigers, and making levithians 
 dance on the sand, that 'ere ? s all bosh, and too ridic'lous 
 for any man to b'leve." 
 
 Mr. Slow looked fearfully oracular as he suid this, and 
 the subject was suspended. 
 
THE CAT AND KITTENS. 109 
 
 THE CAT AND KITTENS. 
 
 BEFORE Ike dropped the cut, it was a matter of much 
 annoyance to Mrs. Purtington, upon coming down stairs 
 one morning, to find a litter of kittens in her Indian 
 work-basket, beside her black Sunday bonnet, and upon 
 the black gloves and handkerchief, long consecrate to 
 grief. Ike had left the basket uncovered, during a 
 search for some thread to make a snare to catch a pigeon 
 with. Her temper was stirred by the circumstance, as 
 what good, tidy housekeeper's would not have been by 
 such an occurrence 1 
 
 " I ? li drownd 'em," said she, " every one of 'em ! O, 
 you wicked creatur !" continued she, raising her finger, 
 and shaking it at the cat ; " O, you wicked creatur, to 
 serve me such a trick ! " 
 
 But the cat, happy in the joys of maternity, purred 
 gladly among her offspring, and looked upon the old lady, 
 through her half-closed eyes, as if she did n't really see 
 any cause for such a fuss. 
 
 "Isaac," said the dame, "take the big tub, and 
 drownd them kittens." 
 
 There was determination in her eye, and authority in 
 her tone, and Ike clapped his hands as he hastened to 
 obey her. 
 
 "Stop, Isaac, a minute/' she cried, "and' I'll take 
 the chill off the water; it would IK> mu-1 to put 'em into 
 it stone-cold." 
 
 10 
 
110 A POINT SETTLED. 
 
 She took the steaming kettle from the stove, and 
 emptied it into the tub, and then left the rest to Ike. 
 But she reproached herself for her inhumanity long 
 afterwards, and could not bear to look the childless cat 
 in the face, and many a dainty bit did that injured 
 animal receive from her mistress. Mrs. Partington 
 perhaps did wrong, as who has n't at some period of life ? 
 Perfection holongeth not to man or woman, and we would 
 throw tLis good pen of ours into the street, and never 
 take another in our fingers, could we pretend that Mrs. 
 Partington was an exception to this universal rule. 
 
 A POINT SETTLED. 
 
 DR. DIGG for whose researches the world can 
 never be grateful enough has been studying out the 
 genealogy of the great family of Co., which occupies 
 such a distinguished mercantile position. This family is 
 scattered the world over, and almost every sign in every 
 city bcar> the name of one of them as partner. He 
 traces their genealogy back to Jericho, of Palestine 
 (modern Jeremiah Co., or, for shortness, Jerry Co.), 
 whom we find frequently mentioned in ancient books. 
 The doctor expresses the belief that the exclusive busi 
 ness liabits of the family may be attributed to their 
 Jewish extraction. 
 
MORAL TRAINING. 
 
 Ill 
 
 MORAL TRAINING. 
 
 'ORAL training," said Mrs. 
 Partington, "is the best, 
 arter all." She had heard 
 some one in the omnibus 
 speaking of moral training, 
 and her benevolence gave 
 it into the charge of niem- 
 jSory until she got home, 
 d memory revolved it. 
 and pondered it, and re 
 viewed it, and fancy con 
 strued it to mean some 
 thing about the military training that was to come off the 
 next day. 
 
 'I hope it will be a mor.il training. I'm shore," 
 said she; "for I see the Gov'nor is to be there in 
 his new suit r and I hope they'll make their revolutions 
 well before him. I do admire the millintery, where the 
 sogers in their fancy unicorns look jest like a patchwork- 
 quilt. They was n't moral trainings in old times, when 
 men put ' enemies into their heads to steal away theii 
 hats/ as Mr. Smooth, the schoolmaster, used to say 
 Your Uncle Paul had a good deal of millintery sperrit 
 sometimes, Isaac." 
 
 Ike had remained very quiet while she was speaking 
 "What upon airth are you doing there, Isaac?' 
 cried she. 
 
112 A LITTLE TRUTH. 
 
 The young gentleman readily told her he was painting 
 a horse, at the same time displaying an animal, nomin 
 ally of that description, done beautifully in blue, which 
 he appeared to look on with -much satisfaction. . 
 
 ;: But what are you painting it with? As true as I *m 
 alive you *vc got your Uncle Paul's toinpion that he 
 used to wear in his cap so long ago, and you 're using 
 up all my bluing ! " 
 
 That pompon, saved for so many years, to be used for 
 such a purpose ! Ah, Ike, Ike ! we fear the old lady 
 will have sad times with thee yet. Why didst thou, 
 yester even, secrete the large ball of yarn for thine own 
 purposes, which to-morrow she will seek for in vain/ 
 Say, why? 
 
 A LITTLE TRUTH. 
 
 "THERE'S something for us all to do," is the heading 
 of a poem in the papers a subject which scorns to have 
 more of truth than poetry in it. There are exceptions, 
 however, to the rule; for a very seedy gentleman with a 
 very red nose told us, one day. that he could n't get r. 
 thing to do. The man appeared strong, and so did his 
 breath. But there are many worthy people who cannot 
 find their proportion of the " something for all to do," 
 and suppose some philanthropist is doing it for them. 
 
IIAIR-DRESSINO. 113 
 
 HAIR-DRESSING. 
 
 " WHAT a queer place this Boston is ! " said Mrs. 
 Partington, when she first came here from the country. 
 ' I was walking along the street just now, and saw on a 
 sign ' Hair-Dressing.' ; Something like guano, I guess, 
 for the hair, 7 said I to myself. ' I declare, I 'm a good 
 mind to look at some/ So I went in and asked a dear, 
 pretty young man, smelling as sweet as catnip, to let me 
 look at some of his hair manure, I wanted to be as 
 polite as possible. Gracious ! how he stared at me, just 
 as if I 'd a been a Hottenpot, or a wild Arad. ' I mean 
 your haLtr-dressing,' said I. 
 
 " '0, ah, yes ! 1 said he ; ' set down here in the big 
 chair, mem, scratch, perhaps, mem ! ' 
 
 u< Scratch/ said I, completely dumbfounded ; 'you 
 saucy fellow ! I can do all my own scratching, and some 
 of yourn, too, if you say that agin, scratch, indeed ! ' 
 and I went right down the stairs." 
 
 She never before had hinted that she stood in need of 
 any hair tonic, though everybody knew that she had worn 
 a wig for twenty years. 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTON says that it makes no difference to 
 her if flour is dear or cheap, she always has to pay the 
 same price for half a dollar's worth. 
 10* 
 
114 OMNIBUS-RIDIXU. 
 
 OMNIBUS-RIDING. 
 
 'T IS a rainy morning, and, health considered, we 
 think we 'II ride. The 'bus heaves in sight, and we look 
 anxiously through the dusty windows, to see a dense 
 packing of humanity, in one long lane that has no turn 
 ing, occupying the inside. The driver pulls up as we 
 wave our cane, he has been watching us for some 
 distance, calculating on the chances of a summons, and, 
 peering down from his perch, through the ticket-hole, 
 -isccrtains that there is room for one more. There 
 always is. We take heart at the announcement, and 
 mount the steps, while the dour swings open to admit us. 
 " Calculated to hold twelve persons" beams upon us 
 from the front of the vehicle, whether nature in framing 
 the ' ; persons " bore the ' bus-maker's limit in mind or 
 not. It must hold twelve, irrespective of size. There 
 are but eleven inside, and we make the twelfth, but 
 where to sit 7 Six lean ;; persons " occupy one side, and 
 five fat ones the other. Of course our place is with the 
 five, and they seem conscious of it, they have read the 
 arbitrary inscription, and crowd one another, and 
 squat their sides to the smallest squeezable limit to 
 admit us, and, just as the ? bus .starts, we fall plump 
 between a very fiery-looking old gentleman, and a lady 
 of unromantic years, and biliously wicked-looking withal. 
 Something cracks in the old gentleman's pocket, and a 
 growl greets us from him, while, with half of our " per- 
 
OMNIRFS-RIDIXU. 115 
 
 son " resting upon the lady's earpet-bag, we are made 
 sensible of a starp elbow, and the ejaculation '" O, 
 Lord !" uttered in a tone between a prayer und a re 
 proach. Of course we 've a ri^Sit there, for, is n't the 
 coach bound to luM twelve, and won't we give i; one pull 
 for the right " bef >e we '11 give it up? That s a beau 
 tiful fiee opposite -a glimpse convinces us of this, 
 but we cannot stnc at lier: g<*>. winners turhid it! 
 There is a glass b'!ie-.ith the driver V, eat, and lu re tho 
 pretty faee in duplicate appeal's. urt we gaze upon it 
 unnoted. 
 
 We arc now remir/ted of the presence of the collector 
 of the tickets, v hi> touches oar s!suu)(er. and hv^ks 
 significantly without saying anything, fie was never 
 known to say anything but t TV ice in his life, it i.^ said, -- 
 once *o inform a -nan in tlr: ' v us that it was cold, and 
 again in a confulentuil vhi.-pr. to hint that it W;LS 
 unpleasant \Ve struggle to r.nirh the j.ockct v.hich 
 contains our ticket : but the ma ^ tint heiii.-' IH *n won't 
 move. and. in a spasmodic eilbrt to entn.p th" card, 
 three buttons are samfiVvd, au<i a ^mnet disturb <1 in its 
 po.siti.rn. -Wclaili at soint p'\t?int allusir^n "f our 
 own about clumsiness: but the hi'igh appears only ipon one 
 side, and we rel-pse into siler-/.:e_ and look in the glass 
 Iwnetth the driver's seat. Thauk Heaven! the big man 
 here pulls the siring, and sturdi'iy tr.niples over f;uies- 
 cent toes in his gress. Then the la'i;* with the carpet 
 bag pulls velicii.-.-ntly. in a vain effort to j'?rk the driver 
 throi gh, and she gets out Thon aiy/tiior, and another, 
 until all are go-* e but us, the pretty <j'l last. - ant! 
 wea-e captain of tho ship, all the liP'.uiities of our 
 
116 . AURIFEROUS MEDITATIONS. 
 
 outset merged in the triumphant consciousness that wo 
 have room. What do we care now about how many the 
 'bus will hold? We snap our fingers at the insulting 
 rule that w>uld curtail humanity, and gaze upon the 
 other inscription, that enjoins the pull for the right; 
 then pull the 1 string magnificently, the coach stops, and 
 we descend among the pedestrians, not a whit inflated by 
 our momentary exaltation. 
 
 AURIFEROUS MEDITATIONS. 
 
 " GOLDEN airs of Californy," said Mrs. Partington, 
 as she read in tho Post an advertisement of some new 
 music ; " such airs, I should think, would be very re 
 plenishing, and I wish a draft of 'em would blow this 
 way. What a country that Colifarny is ! ? ' murmured 
 she, in a half reverie, in which golden visions, like the 
 sunshine reflections on the kitchen wall, from her teacup, 
 were dancing through her brain. " What a queer thing ! 
 where gold is so plenty they pick it up in quarts on 
 American Forks, : Connetticut ones, I dare say; but 
 spoons, I should think, would be a good deal better." 
 Of course it would. Strange that the miners did n't 
 think of this in the first place. Many a valuable sug 
 gestion of hers has benefited the world: though the 
 world was not aware of its indebtedness until she said. 
 : I always thought so;" and this coming late, she never 
 got the credit for it. 
 
IKfi AND THE ORAXGK3. 117 
 
 IKE AND THE ORANGES. 
 
 "I CAN'T conceive," said Mrs. Partington, standing 
 up on tiptoe, and pushing aside the antique wash-bowl 
 that stood oh the front shelf in the old cupboard in the 
 corner, and rattling the papers, of seeds, and the teacups, 
 and the plates, and looking into the dark corners, and 
 feeling in,' also, to be certain. When she said she 
 {i could n't conceive," it was but part of the sentence that 
 she wished to speak ; the earnestness of her searcli liud 
 suspended the remainder of it. , 
 
 " I can't conceive where those oranges arc," said she, 
 " that the young ladies sent me ^ Hea' a bless T em ! 
 they were so good to lucubrate the throat with when it 's 
 dry and ho* >vith the information that conies with a cOugh. 
 It is strange where they have gone. If I believed in 
 superhumorous things I should say the spirits had got 
 'em ; but they would n't take mine when they could go 
 so easy where they grow and get as many as they 
 want." 
 
 She stopped her search amid the dust, and regaled 
 her nose with dust of a more fragrant character. 
 
 " What are you doing, Isaac ? ? ' said she, as she saw 
 him forming a star out of an orange ui>on the closet 
 door, and usfrig up her pump tacks. The boy pointed 
 to his handiwork, and the delight she felt for his genius 
 blinded her eyes to the possibility of hoAflte might havo 
 come by the oranges, 
 
118 PATRIOTISM. 
 
 PATRIOTISM. 
 
 A YANKEE gentleman, convoying a British friend 
 around to view the different objects of attraction in the 
 vicinity of Boston, brought him to Bunker Hill. They 
 stood looking at the splendid shaft, when the Yankee 
 
 " That id the place where Warren fell." 
 
 " Ah ! " replied the Englishman, evidently not posted 
 up in local historical matters; "did it hurt him 
 much?" 
 
 The native looked at him, with the expression of four- 
 :cn Fourth of Julys in his countenance. " Hurt him ! " 
 said he, "he was killed, sir." 
 
 " Ah ! he was, eh ] " said the stranger, still eying the 
 monument, and computing its height, in his own mind t 
 layer hy layer; "well, I should think he would hav< 
 been, to fall so far." 
 
 The native tore his hair, but it gave him a good op 
 portunity to enlarge upon the glorious events connected 
 with the hill, and the benefits therefrom flowing to our 
 somewhat extensive country, and lie -soon talked himself 
 into good-humor. 
 
 KEEP your eyes wide open for the truth ; let it came 
 down into your mind like the sunlight, to illumine all of 
 its dark comers. " Buy the truth, and sell it not " 
 
DULL BUSINESS 119 
 
 BULL BUSINESS. 
 
 A LONG time ago. in an old town we wot of, there Iive<l 
 a man of humble means, there are some poor people 
 there now, and, in,pity for his need, he was made sex 
 ton of the church of which he was a member. The 
 times were dull, his salary was low, and he found it 
 hard work to make both ends meet. He called upon the 
 members of the church, but they could not or would not 
 do anything for his relief. As a last resort he called 
 upon the minister and told him his troubles, and how 
 hard he found it to get along. The minister heard his 
 story, but, instead of relieving his wants, or telling him 
 how to do it, went to arguing* with him about the unrea 
 sonableness of his complaint. 
 
 "Why," says he, "don't you have, besides your 
 salary, a number of perquisites? Are you not paid for 
 ringing the bell on the Fourth of July and other public 
 celebrations? And a re you not paid, too, for your services 
 at funerals, when any occur in our society ?" 
 
 " True," said the dolorous sexton, looking up solemnly ; 
 " but I have little hope from this source, for, confound 
 it, none of our society ever die ! ?> 
 
 The poor fellow went away sorrowing, thinking, prob 
 ably, that Providence wsis rather hard on him in not kill 
 ing off half the parish that he might have the profit cf 
 burying them. 
 
120 
 
 . ANTIQUITY IN A SHOWER. 
 
 ANTIQUITY IS A SHOWER. 
 
 _ ! 
 
 RS. PARTI XUTON attended the 
 dedication of Mount Hope 
 Cemetery, in Dorchester, and 
 got wet with the ruin. No 
 sheltering umbrella was there 
 to hold its broad surface above 
 her venerable head ; and the 
 rain, all regardless of her 
 august presence, poured down 
 relentlessly. But we will let 
 r ^ her tell the story in her own 
 
 way. 
 
 " The seminary would have been dictated, but, by an 
 imposition of divine Providence, the bottles of heaven 
 were uncorked and the rains fell as if another delusion 
 wad agoing to destroy the world. The lightning blazed 
 horridly, and everybody was filled with constipation. 
 Not a shelter to be bad ! I tried to lean over and get 
 my bonnet under a gentleman's umbrel, in front of me, 
 and the water all run down into my back like a spout, 
 till I was satiated through and through like an old boot. 
 Colu chills run over me as if I had an ager ? and, O 
 dear ! look at that bonnet." 
 
 Certainly the faded remnant had wilted, the pasteboard 
 that formed the crown had relaxed ai-d shook flabbily 
 us we held it, and irreparable dec;iy seemed written 
 upon it. 
 
THE NATIONAL EPIC. 121 
 
 " It never will be fit to be seen again f " said she. 
 and we fancied a tone of deeper sorrow in her words, as 
 she looked straight up at the stiff old corporal on the 
 wall, whom this antique crape commemorated. Heaven 
 bless thee, Mrs. Partington ! we thought, and felt rouml 
 our capacious pocket for a dollar to leave with her,. hut. 
 as it usually happens when our benevolence comes on. 
 we found none, and came away with a paper pinned to 
 our coat-tail by that "everlasting Ike." 
 
 THE NATIONAL EPIC. 
 
 "1 CAN'T see through it," said Mrs. Partington, with 
 a reflective nod of her head, and her eyes earnestly bent 
 upon the keyhole of the closot door, as if that were the 
 object she could not see through. She had just learned 
 the report of the committee upon the prize poem propo 
 sition of Mr. Latham, and the loss of oOO to the musical 
 genius of the country. "I can't see why somebody 
 couldn't have written an epic poem, when there is so 
 many beautiful epicac poets in the country. Dear me, the 
 older I grow, and I never shall see fifty-seven again, 
 I 'm convinced that genius is n't thought half enough 
 of, and that versatonity of talent and great power of 
 vcrsuffocation is n't rewarded as it ought to be." This 
 was said in compliment to Wideswarth, who, it was half 
 suspected, had put in for the prize, and ho bowed mod 
 estly, as he placed his hand in the vicinity of his heart, 
 and felt in his vest pocket for a tooth -pick. 
 11 
 
122 THE MAINE LIQUOR BILL. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AND THE MAINE 
 LIQUOR BILL. 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTON was in the gallery of the House of 
 Representatives when the Maine liquor law was umlei 
 discussion. The member from Cranberry Centre was 
 very attentive to the old dame, and replied to her ques 
 tions concerning the Maine liquor law, and spoke of the 
 various provisions of the bill. <; Provisions 7 " said the 
 kind old dame, tapping her box gently, " I never hcerd 
 there was any provisions mentioned in the bill ; though 
 I dare say there is, for Paul used to say that give old 
 Mr. Tipple a pint of rum, it would be vittals and drink 
 and house- rent for a week ; and I b'lieve it was so, for, 
 only give him rum enough, he ? d never ask for bread. 
 I remember, too. '' continued the old lady, raising her 
 voice, as she saw Mr. Batkins about to interrupt her, 
 " they used always to put rum and tobacco into their 
 provision bills, in old times, when they went a fishing, 
 and I s'pose this putting provisions into the liquor bill is 
 ? bout the same thing." She looked at Mr. Batkins, and 
 smiled, as she saw him looking smilingly at her, and they 
 both smiled at each other. 
 
 " The provisions meant, mem." said the member, 
 impressively, "are provisions of law." 
 
 "Ah!" replied the- old lady, musingly, as she took 
 the third pinch, and handed the box to Mr Batkins, 
 i; yes. yes, I've hecrd of folks hem* bread to the law 
 
TAKE THINGS EASY. 123 
 
 - . 
 
 afore, though a good many of 'cm is more like vegeta 
 bles. But" Here the speaker's mallet attracted 
 
 her attention, and she listened to the reading of part of 
 the liquor bill, Batoning carefully for the items. " Is 
 that the liquor bill? " asked she, in an incredulous tone, 
 of her friend, tho member ; "is that it? " He assured 
 her that it was. " Well," continued she, as she rose tc 
 go, "I must say that I never see a bill made out in that 
 way afore." 
 
 Mr. Batkins handed her out, and she remarked to 
 Mr. Verigreen, whom she met on the stairs, that she had 
 come to hear the liquor bill, and they were reading a 
 new chapter, that she 'd never read, in the book of 
 Acts. 
 
 TAKE THINGS EASY. 
 
 " I NEVER knowed anything gained by being in too 
 much of a hurry," said Mrs. Partington. "When me 
 ard my dear Paul was married, he was in mch a tripi- 
 uation that he came nigh marrying one of the brides 
 maids instead of me, by mistake. He was such a queer 
 man ! " she continued. "Why, he joined the fire apart 
 ment, and one night in his hurry he put his boots on 
 hind part afore; and. as he ran along, everybody behind 
 him got tripped up. The papers were full of crowner's 
 quests on broken legs and limbs, for a week afterwards," 
 and she relapsed into an abstraction on the ups and 
 downs of life. 
 
124 CARRIED AWAY WITH MUSIC. 
 
 CARRIED AWAY WITH MUSIC. 
 
 EVERYBODY will remember the organ-grinder's little 
 child, who was carried around, seated upon the instru 
 ment his father was tuning, his young heart well satis 
 fied with things as they were, so he enjoyed his musical 
 throne. We regret to say that this babe of tender years 
 was once made the subject of as cruel a joke as was ever 
 seen in print. Our friend, Old Roger, was concerned in 
 it, too, and with his kind feelings 't is a wonder he could 
 have done it. PHILANTHROPOS observed Old Roger 
 standing upon the sidewalk, good-humoredly beating time 
 to a lively air performed by the man of the organ, and 
 observing the dexterity with which he would pik up a 
 cent and not lose a note. 
 
 " Sir," said Philanthropes, " observe the hard fortune 
 of that babe, thus chained to . such a destiny ; a child 
 with a soul to save thus risking its safety by breathing 
 continually such abominable airs.' 1 
 
 " I know it," said Old Roger, in his way; " I know 
 it, and yet the little fellow seems to be entirely carried 
 away with the music." 
 
 Philanthropes immediately left him. 
 
MRS. PARTINGTON IN TROUBLE. 125 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON IN. TROUBLE. 
 
 "TRYING the French sea-steamer! " said Mrs. Part- 
 ington, as she read in the foreign news an account of trial- 
 trips made by the French steamships. She has always 
 had a deep interest in the French, sine e Mr. Lay Mar 
 tin, as she calls Lamartine, has been driven out of the 
 provisional government, and the people have got to go 
 back to frog soup again. " What can they be going to 
 try them for?" continued she. "I never knowed that 
 steamboats could be arranged for murder and such things 
 before, though I vion't see no reason why they shouM n ? t, 
 seeing so many murders come from their arrangements. 
 And I wish they ? d try ? em all before they do the mis 
 chief, and condemnation ? 11 be a warning to ? em, just as 
 it would if we could try all of the murderers, and hang 
 'em off aforehand, and save the lives of their innocent 
 victims. Isaac!'' she screamed, as a snow-ball struck 
 the window, "don't throw your snow this way!" and 
 she rushed out to save her glass. Alas ! she was a 
 moment too soon, for a snow-ball struck her cap as she 
 issued from the door, tore it from her head, and bore it, 
 with its strings hanging down, far from her. Her hair, 
 all unconfined, danced madly in the wind, and Mrs. 
 Partington for a moment looked every witch way. Vir 
 tue is of little account unless it be tried, nor is patience. 
 Mrs. Partir.gton calmly " digested" her cap on her head 
 nnd went in. 
 
 11* 
 
126 INFLUENZA. AN ANSWER. 
 
 INFLUENZA. 
 
 " I DECLARE, I b'lieve I ? m going to have the influ- 
 wednesday," said Mrs. Partington, tenderly enveloping 
 her nose in her cotton bandanna, previous to a blast that 
 would have done credit to Sam Robinson's stage-horn in 
 the old time. " 'T is a dreadful feeling to have your 
 head as big as a bucket of water, and your nose dropping 
 like the eaves, and your flesh all creepy with cold 
 pimples, like a child with the mizzles. Paul's sisters 
 child, she that married with a Smith, had the distempcr- 
 aturo so bad that they had to put cork stoppers in his 
 nostrils to keep his brains from running out ! " 
 
 She was here "brought up" suddenly with a fit of 
 coughing; the knitting- work was laid by for the night, 
 and she went up stairs with a hot brick for her feet, and 
 a little preparation of something hotter for her stomach. 
 
 AN ANSWER. 
 
 "WiiAT do they call them dancers the corpse de 
 ballet for ?". asked Mr. Verigrcen of old Roger, at the 
 theatre. The old fellow was watching them intently 
 from the parquette, with a double magnifying opera 
 glass, and did n't wish to be disturbed, but answered : 
 " Because no live d-incers can jump half so high as they 
 
MUTTON CUSTARD. 127 
 
 MUTTON CUSTARD. 
 
 " As regards this mutton custard," said Mrs. Parting- 
 ton, as she held up the spoon with which she was stirring 
 the preserves, and let the treacle trickle back into the 
 kettle in syrupticious ropiness, and stirred it again till 
 the little yellow eyes that bubbled on the top seemed to 
 snap and wink at Ike who sat whittling a stick and look 
 ing intently at the operation, till his mouth watered 
 again. " Mutton custard ! " and she smiled as the idea 
 stole across her mind, like the shadow of a cloud in sum 
 mer over a green meadow full of dandelion blossoms and 
 butter-cups. " Some new regiment for sick people. 
 I dare say; but I hope it ? 11 be better than the custards 
 that widow Grudge used to make for the poor, God 
 bless r em ! with one egg to a quart of milk, and sweetened 
 with molasses, and thought that Heaven itself was too 
 small an emuneration for what she had done. But mut 
 ton custard " 
 
 . " It is Martin Koszta," said Ike, who had read the 
 name to her in the Post of that individual when he ar 
 rived in Boston; "Koszta, the Hungarian." 
 
 "Well," continued she, " it might have been worse. 
 as the girl said when she kissed the young minister by 
 mistake,. in the dark entry, for her cousin Betsey, a 
 mistake is no haystack, Isaac." 
 
 Isaac silently admitted the truth of the remark as he 
 
128 ON THE RELNJIOTJS TEST." 
 
 thrust the stick he had been whittling into the kettle, 
 and then made a drawing of the equatorial line across 
 both cheeks in warm molasses. i 
 
 MRS. PARTISGTON OX THE "RELI 
 GIOUS TEST." 
 
 "THE religious taste among politicians! " exclaimed 
 Mrs. Partington, as her opinion was asked on the great 
 question that was then agitating the people of New 
 Hampshire; and she smiled incredulously as she an 
 swered, u I never heerd that they had any religious 
 taste at all, nor religious feeling, nuther, for that matter. 
 We see that all the politicians this *ere way that ever 
 had any religion has give it all up. There is Parson 
 Trot, who used to compound the gospel up in the old 
 church, has come out a politickmer, and where is his 
 religious taste, now. I should like to know ? and there ' s 
 lots just like him " ' 
 
 " But, dear madam/' quoth the interrogator, blandly, 
 u I did n't mean taste, it was test that I spoke 
 about." 
 
 She inhaled a large thumb and finger full of her 
 favorite before she spoke. '* Their testiness," said she, 
 44 is quite another thing, and none of 'em a'n't no better 'n 
 they ought to be." 
 
 The inquirer left, decidedly impressed with the orig 
 inality and truth of her remark. 
 
IDEA OF HUMOR. CURIOSITY. 129 
 
 MRS. FARTLXGTOX'S IDEA OF HUMOR. 
 
 " WHAT is your opinion of the humor of Hawthorne, 
 Mrs. Partington?" asked a young neighbor that had 
 been reading " Twice-Told Tales." 
 
 " I don't know," said she, looking at him earnestly; 
 " but if you have got it, you 'd better take something 
 to keep it from striking in. Syrup of buekthornc is good 
 for all sorts of diseases of that kind. I don't know about 
 the humor of Hawthorne, but I guess the buckthome 
 will be beneficious. We eat too much butter, and butter 
 is very humorous." 
 
 There was a slight tremor in his voice, as he said he 
 would try her remedy, and a smile might have been 
 perceived about his mouth, next day. when she asked 
 him, with a solicitous air and tone, how his humor was. 
 
 A GREAT CURIOSITY. 
 
 DR. DUJG, in a lecture before the Spunkville Lyceum, 
 stated it as an interesting fact, and as indicative of the 
 progress of the age, that he had, in a recent journey 
 among the Green Mountains, discovered a SAGE CHKKSE. 
 We hope the-doctor will be induced to give a paper upon 
 the subject to the world. Cheeses have often been noted 
 for their activity, but none of them, we believe, have 
 ever been distinguished for their profundity. 
 
130 MRS. tARTINOTON ON EXTRADITION, ETC. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON ON EXTRADITION. 
 
 "EXTRADITION of Sims! " said Mrs. Partington, as 
 she paused a moment before the bulletin board of the 
 Commonwealth, during the great excitement ; "I don't 
 see what they want an extra edition of Sims for, when 
 they had so much trouble in getting off the first oi:c ! " 
 
 " 'Ere 's the Commonwealth, fourth edition ! " bawled 
 a newsboy in her ear. 
 
 She raised her umbrella with a menacing air, for the 
 noise was strange to her, when her good genius stayed 
 her hand ; the umbrella, - the old green cotton one, 
 descended gently as a snow-flake, and the kind old lady 
 invested two coppers, American currency, in a last 
 week's paper which the urchin chanced to have on hand. 
 
 IRREVERENT. 
 
 ONE of our preachers, in his sermon, spoke of those 
 who do business, as travelling along the level plain of 
 life. Old Roger happened to be there, and the old 
 fellow reached over to his neighbor, :md whispered, "It 
 may ta a plain for some, but for myself I have always 
 found it up-hill work." The neighbor laughed at Roger 
 with the back of his head, but kept the part grave that 
 nvas towards the minister. 
 
INDIGNATION MEETING. 
 
 131 
 
 INDIGNATION MEETING. 
 
 n l \ 
 
 HE enforcement of the law re 
 quiring our canine friends ami 
 fellow-citizens to wear- collars 
 . "^ " about their necks a, servile 
 
 mark, which no dog of spirit could for a moment consent 
 to wear caused, as might he supposed, much growling 
 among them; and mai, teeth were shown, and much 
 dogged determination was evinced to resist the law. 
 Acting upon this feeling, the more energetic of the Caiiiii- 
 ites went round among their brethren counselling them 
 to withstand the law, and telling them, besides, that the 
 rights of universal puppydom were in their keeping, and 
 asking them, in tones of earnest entreaty, if they would 
 see those rights sacrificed without a struggle. 
 
 This appeal was effectual, and a meeting was forthwith 
 assembled at the old slaughter-house, on Smith .Boston 
 flats, to discuss the great question of resistance. It was 
 composed chiefly of dogs whose necks had never chafed 
 
132 INDIGNATION MEETING. 
 
 with the ignominious badge of ownership ; of hard-faring 
 dogs, bone-gnawing dogs ; of dogs not nursed in the lap 
 of luxury or pampered by the indulgenee of favoring 
 masters ; none of the silk-eared and soft-footed aristoc 
 racy ; but there were the Huge Paws from Roxbury 
 Neck, the Shagbarks from the North End, and the Tough 
 and Roughers from West Boston, and many of minor 
 note. Not a smile marked their meeting, not a tail 
 wagged, not a bark disturbed the stillness, and anybody 
 with half an eye could see that each heart was nerved 
 with mighty resolution. 
 
 The meeting was organized by the choice of C.-KSAU, 
 the biggest dog present, for president ; and PLATO, a lean 
 dog in specs, who had been very active in jetting up the 
 meeting, and who was known to be an excellent reporter, 
 was appointed scribe. Some said, in an under tone, 
 aside, that the scribe had nominated himself, but his 
 well-known modesty precluded the possibility of this, and 
 it may be set down as a slander. 
 
 The chairman, on taking his seat, stood up, and, after 
 wagging his tail in silence for some moments, expressive 
 of his deep emotion, he then proceeded to make a speech 
 describing the object of the meeting, characterized by all 
 the profundity, eloquence, brilliancy, and power, that has 
 rendered the nar,e of Caesar immortal, and that has 
 more or less marked the efforts of every chairman of every 
 meeting since when the memory of man or dog knoweth 
 riot the contrary. We regret very much that we have 
 not this great speech t> print. In recommending union 
 in their action, he related an original anecdote aNmt an 
 
INDIGNATION MEETING. 133 
 
 old man and his sons and a bundle of sticks, which was 
 received with tremendous applause. 
 
 There was a struggle for the floor as the chairman 
 ceased, and, amidst much yelping, it was assigned to 
 CATO, an old setter, who called upon his hearers to keep 
 cool and not he in too much of a hurry : they would 
 accomplish more by masterly inactivity than by thrusting 
 their necks in the way of the danger ; they must remem 
 ber the conduct of an ancient member of their race, he 
 must refer to it, although it was humiliating to think that 
 a dog should be such a fool, who dropped a piece of 
 beef he had in his mouth for its shadow in the water. 
 Prudence, with both eyes wide open tight, would remove 
 them out of the way of trouble ; as a last word he would 
 advise them to lay low and look out for bricks a species 
 of dog-bane inimical to canine constitutions. 
 
 A heavy old, dark-browed dog here arose, who com 
 menced to bay violently against tin Jaw and those who 
 were enforcing it. He was astonished, he was paralyzed, 
 he was dumfounded to hear dogs counsel coolness in this 
 crisis! The policemen arc upon us! We have alrc ly 
 felt our tails within their degrading finjrers ! I hold 
 
 o o o 
 
 them and their leader in detestation ! He ! I would 
 bark at the woman who does his washing, I hate him so ! 
 I would point at him in State-street, though not natural 
 ly a pointer! I would show my teeth at him wherever 
 I met him! His excitement overpowered him, and he 
 sat down. 
 
 PONTO, a large, gnarly, hard-looking dog, here arose, 
 and it was doubtful for a time if he could be heard, for 
 the noise and confusion which prevailed among the oppo- 
 12 
 
184 INDIGNATION MEETING. 
 
 sers of the law. He was for law and order. Law was too 
 sacred a thing to be handled without gloves : it w^s the 
 palladium of our liberty. If the law was oppressive, as it 
 doubtless was, he would suggest, in his reverence for 
 law, that they grin and bear it ; if their necks were a 
 little chafed, the ev il would be mitigated by the. reflection 
 that the law was inviolate. Individual grievance was 
 nothing in comparison with this grand idea. Everything 
 that is legal is right; what is wrong in the individual 
 may become right in law. Did the law require him to 
 fasten the collar upon his own neck or upon the necks of 
 those with whom he was allied, he would not hesitate 
 to do it, in his regard for the law : he would r 
 
 He was here pulled down by his tail, when, amid the 4 
 shaggy hair which thickly covered his neck, a collar was 
 discovered, fitting closely to the skin ( Amid the confu 
 sion attending this discovery, he sneaked away. 
 
 A sandy-haired dog, named CARLO, next took the 
 floor, and snarled ominously as he commenced. He had 
 but few words to say. He would ask them if they were 
 going to allow this law to be enforced ? For his part he 
 would fill his pockets with pistols, and with a twenty- 
 four-pounder under each arm would he go alone to 
 oppose it ! 
 
 His remarks produced an immense sensation among 
 the younger portion of the audience. A cry was here 
 made for " BONES." A venerable dog arose, whose appear 
 ance excited respect. He gained his feet with much 
 difficulty, and it was perceived that he hud a wooden leg, 
 and bore about his person sundry other marks of dilapi 
 dation. 
 
INDIGNATION* MEETING. 135 
 
 4C My brethren/' said he, when the cheering which 
 had greeted him had subsided, "you have 1>e fore you but 
 a sorry dog; but such as I am is all that was left over 
 from that fatal nineteenth of April, when so many of our 
 race were served up cold. I was then young and ardent. 
 At the first howl of danger, I left the bone I was gnaw 
 ing, and threw my^olf into the front rank of the defend 
 ers of my race. Alas ! my friends ; I soon found that I 
 was barking up the wrong tree, and discovered, too. that 
 canine sagacity, however good it might be in saving 
 children from drowning, or worrying cats, could never 
 cope with humanity armed with cl .!*. and actuated by 
 the love of money. In a bloody fray my leg was broken 
 with an ignominious brick; in another my termination 
 was curtailed ; in another my right eye closed in dark 
 ness on the world forever. With this view of the power 
 of man, and of our own weakness. I would counsel 
 caution submission, even for the present, resting in 
 the assurance of the fulfilment of the ancient prophecy 
 of the good time coming, when ' every dog shall have 
 his day!' when, basking in the brand sunshine of 
 beneficent law, we may catch flies in peaceful security, 
 fearing not the butcher's art, fearing not the urchins' 
 mischief, who, so reckless of onr feelings, persist in 
 ornamenting our extremities with cast-off culinary uten 
 sils." 
 
 This speech produced a great sensation, awakening the 
 president, who had fallen asleep during the pathetic part 
 3f it; and a few sensitive pups near the door were so 
 deeply affected that they had to go out and take a little 
 whine to restore their strength. The scribe, who lm<l 
 
136 HOW TO GET OUT OF AN OMNIBUS. 
 
 prepared a series of resolutions before he came, concluded 
 not to submit them, and let them drop back in his pocket, 
 to read some other time to private :jifliuircrs ; and the 
 meeting dissolved. 
 
 HOW TO GET OUT OF AN OMNIBUS. 
 
 GIVE the string a sudden jerk at the same instant 
 you start from your seat to make for the door. The 
 motion of the coach will afford you an excellent oppor 
 tunity of testing your powers of navigation, and will not 
 m the least annoy you, although it may be annoying to 
 those whose corns you tread on. If you are timid of 
 falling into the laps of your fellow-passengers, incline 
 your body forward, as if about commencing to swim, 
 and place your hands upon projecting knees on each side, 
 until you are at a right distance from the door, and then 
 make a sudden and energetic plunge at it, as if attempt 
 ing to carry it by storm. We have seen a lady attempt 
 this mode of egress, and by skilful management contrive to 
 sit on seven masculine laps before ?:he reached the door 
 It saves time to start a trifle before p\:Hing the string; 
 you might lose a full sixteenth of a minute by waiting 
 for the coach to stop, and that is something where 
 " time is money'* and money is two per cent, a month ! 
 
A LITERAL CONSTRUCTION. 187 
 
 A LITERAL CONSTRUCTION. 
 
 "PREACHERS," said a reverend gentleman, ''should 
 be careful, in doing their Master's service, never to exceed 
 their commission, or take anything but the Bible into 
 their mouths/' 
 
 " Bless me ! " thought Mrs. Partington, as he said 
 this ; "I don't see how he could find room for anything 
 more very well ; though some mouths are a great deal 
 larger than others. I remember my poor Paul and his 
 brother were digging a cellar once, when Paul threw 
 some dirt in his brother's mouth. ' Paul,' says he ? 
 * you 've filled my mouth half full of dirt. ? His brother 
 had a very big mouth. 'Have I J ' said Paul; 'well, 
 just spit it outside, and wo shan't have any more to 
 dig.- Ah, Paul was such a queer man ! He was the 
 beatermost crcatur." 
 
 What a joyous gleam shot from her specs as this rem 
 iniscence crossed her mind, giving the very iron of the 
 bows the semblance of gold in its light ! But the reflec 
 tion cost her the whole of the fourthly. 
 12* 
 
138 A LEGITIMATE CON'CLUSIOX. EPIGRAM. 
 
 A LEGITIMATE CONCLUSION. 
 
 OLD Mr. Brown and his son George were engaged in 
 the haymow, when the conversation turned upon Cali 
 fornia, and the young man expressed a strong desire to 
 go. The old man said he shouldn't go. They talked 
 about it, reasoned about it, grew mad about it, and the 
 end of it all was, that George shoved his venerable 
 progenitor down over the mow. through a hole in the 
 ba*n floor, into an apple binn, to the imminent risk of 
 the venerable gentleman's heck, and then ran away, 
 leaving his father in the binn among the apples. The 
 old man, some months afterwards, told the minister the 
 story, and the reverend very profoundly said that he 
 thought children who showed such disrespect to their 
 parents never came to a good end. "No, sir ! " said old 
 Mr. Brown, fimily, striking his hoe with energy into the 
 turf, " no, sir! depend upon it. that boys who throw 
 their fathers down into apple binns don't go to Heaven 
 by a great sight." 
 
 AN EPIGRAM. Upon the election of General Pierce 
 the usual changes were made in the various subordinate 
 offices, with the usual anxiety among the outs and ins, 
 expressed by the following : 
 
 " The office-holders are all in a sweat," 
 Said an office-hoper, with exultation ; 
 
 " True," said old Roger, " I never yet 
 Saw such a General Piercefnration." 
 
QUESTION ANSWERED. TEST REFUSED. 139 
 
 QUESTION ANSWERED. 
 
 "WHERE is the fire?" asked Mrs. Partington of a 
 fireman, from an upper window, as the bells were waking 
 the night with their clangor. 
 
 " In ," was the ungallant response, naming the 
 
 hottest title of perpetual warmth. " Dear me ! " ?'id 
 the old lady, not comprehending him ; " is it so far off I 
 I wish it was nearer for your sake! But he'll get 
 there soon," she muttered to herself, " if he goes on as 
 he does- now;" and she went to sleep again, invoking 
 blessings on the guardians of public safety. 
 
 THE TEST REFUSED. 
 
 MR. JABEZ BRATTLE, the elocutionist, was introduced 
 
 one day to Prof. , and expressed himself much 
 
 pleased at making that gentleman's acquaintance. Mr, 
 Brattle stated to the professor that he was an ardent 
 admirer of his works, and that he could repeat " Evan- 
 geline " and the " Golden Legend " from beginning to 
 end. He commenced the former, and had not got more 
 than half through before the professor was seen dashing 
 wildly up School street ; and, in fifteen minutes by the 
 Old South, he stood upon Cambridge Bridge, thankful 
 at his escape from a bore. 
 
140 A WHOLESOME LESSON. 
 
 A WHOLESOME LESSON. 
 
 " A DOG is a very singular animal," said the owner 
 of Fido to old Roger, after they had marked the affec 
 tionate gambols of the faithful creature, who now. in 
 weariness, had come to lie at his master's feet : " a very 
 singular animal. Now you see I will flog him severely 
 (suiting the action to the word) ; and now you see him 
 licking my hand in return." 
 
 Old Roger was moved. 
 
 " Yes," said the old man severely, "and were I the 
 dog I would give you a different sort of licking from that. 
 He is the noblest animal of the two, and ought to change 
 places with you. Let me tell you, sir, that a man who 
 by a mere accident occupies the superior position, and 
 out of pure wantonness abuses the power he may possess, 
 or presumes upon that power to hurt the helpless, is a 
 scoundrel, sir ! That dog, there, is a king to him." 
 
 And the old man turned away, leaving Fido and his 
 master to experience perhaps the benefit of the lesson. 
 There is a moral in it 
 
A BOOTLESS CASK. PERHAPS TRUE. 141 
 
 A BOOTLESS CASE. 
 
 "I WISH I could find something to help my corns,'' 
 said Mr. Verd, despondingly ; " they ache so ! " 
 
 "I'll tell you what '11 cure 'em." said one of the 
 boarders. " Wear large boots, 'bout two sizes larger ? n 
 you now wear, and your corns '11 be better." 
 
 Mr. Verd wore No. 12s, already, and, as he cast his 
 eyes towards his feet, upon hearing this advice, he sighed 
 piteously, for the remedy seemed bootless. 
 
 " Young man," said old Roger, wiping his mouth on 
 his napkin, " I pity your case, if you depend upon chat ; 
 for, to carry out the plan recommended, the streets would 
 surely have to be widened, and land is very dear in 
 Boston." 
 
 It was touching the young man upon a sore spot, and 
 he left off complaining from then. 
 
 PERHAPS TRUE. 
 
 A PAPER begins a paragraph eulogistic " Price, the 
 immortal friend of mothers," &c. We are assured, by a 
 friend at our elbow that knows, that price is no object 
 with some mothers ; and that however much it may be 
 pretended that Price is the mother's friend, it is a notori 
 ous fact that price is obnoxious to fathers. 
 
142 
 
 OLD ROGER'S NEW HAT. 
 
 OLD ROGER'S NEW HAT. 
 
 heaven's sake, old wo 
 man, get off my bat ! " said 
 Roger at the concert, as lie 
 saw a two hundred and fifty 
 pounder settle on his new 
 ventilated castor. Old wo 
 
 man 
 
 It was an ungallant 
 
 expression, but the circum 
 stance would seem to justify 
 it. A new hat was a new- 
 era in his existence, and this 
 was one of the latest. Re 
 covering himself, and pressing over his knee as best he 
 might his crushed tile, the wrinkles but too apparent, he 
 calmly continued, " I wouldn't object to your trying it 
 on, ma'am, were there the least chance of its fitting ; but 
 it is evident that it is n't large enough. / never saw a 
 hat worn in that way before, and / don't want to furnish 
 one to experiment upon, cither." 
 
 The hat was put on, but how like an apothecary's 
 'prentice long indented it looked, contrasted with its pre 
 vious fair proportions ! The opera is very destructive to 
 hats, especially where they throw them at the singers. 
 
CHRISTMAS REFLECTION. 143 
 
 CHRISTMAS REFLECTION. 
 
 I wish you a merry Christmas 
 
 And a happy New Y*ar, 
 With jour stomach full of money, 
 And your pocket full of beer," 
 
 yelled Ike, as he skipped into Mrs. Partington's kitchen, 
 where the old dame was busily engaged in cooking break- 
 Cist on Christmas morning. 
 
 " Don't make such a noise, dear," said the kind old 
 lady, holding up her hand; "you give me a scrutinizing 
 pain in my head, and your young voice goes through my 
 brains like a scalpel knife. But what did the good Santa 
 Cruz put in your stocking, Isaac ? " 
 
 And she looked at him with an arch and pleased expres 
 sion, as he took out of his pocket a jacknife, and a hum- 
 top painted with gaudy colors. Ike held them up joyously, 
 *nd it was a sight to see the two standing there, she 
 omiling serenely upon the boy's happiness, and he grate- 
 nil in the possession of his .treasures. 
 
 " Ah ! 7; said she, with a sigh, " there 's many a homo 
 a)-day, Isaac, that Santa Cruz won't visit, and many a 
 poor child will find nothing in his stocking but his own 
 little foot ! " 
 
 It might have been a grain of the snuff she took, it 
 might have been a floating mote of the atmosphere, but 
 Mrs. Partington's eyes looked humid, though she smiled 
 upon the boy before her, who stood trying to pull the 
 cord out of her reticule to spin his new top with. 
 
144 REFLECTION ABOUT MOSQUIT03. 
 
 REFLECTION ABOUT MOSQUITOS. 
 
 " THERE f now I hope you 'vc got it, you everlastin' 
 torment t " said Mrs. Partington, angrily giving Mar* 
 garet, her young neighbor; who was in spending the 
 evening with her, a smart slap on her forehead, and 
 nearly throwing her from her chair ; at the same time 
 knocking the Britannia lamp from the table by her 
 violent motion. 
 
 " What 's the matter? " inquired Margaret, alarmed; 
 lor such conduct was very unusual, and the oil from the 
 lamp had marred her new califco. 
 
 "It's only a pesky musketeer, dear," said the old 
 lady, relighting the lamp ; " it T s only a musketeer, and 
 I can't see the use of 'em, the tormenting creaturs ! 
 They say the Lord makes everything for some good 
 purpose ; and so I think that these sort of annoysome 
 reptiles must be made by somebody else, I do." 
 
 The remark may be thought irreverent by some, but 
 the old lady was excited, and the heat of these warm, 
 mosquito-teeming evenings ought to excuse more, even, 
 under such annoyance as she was suffering. 
 
A PASSABLE JOKE. 145 
 
 A PASSABLE JOKE. 
 
 OLD ROGER was at the concert one evening, and as he 
 sat awaiting the commencement of the performances in a 
 slip where there was room for one more, a gentleman 
 came along, and tapping him on the shoulder told him in 
 a whisper that he should like to pass inside of him. 
 Old Roger looked at the stranger a moment ; he was a 
 large man, very large. 
 
 " Upon my word, sir," said the old fellow, " I don't 
 think you can, for I have just eaten a hearty supper, and 
 from appearances I should judge that you would n't sit 
 well on my stomach." 
 
 This was said loud enough for people in the adjacent 
 seats to hear, and in an instant eleven double spy-glasses 
 were levelled at him. The gentleman looked very red 
 at first. 
 
 " I mean," said he, pointing to the vacant seat, u will 
 you allow ine to pass by you to that seat ? " 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Old Roger gravely, "and I am 
 rejoiced to find that your request is so much more pass 
 able than I first regarded it." 
 
 The stranger immediately tendered Old Roger his hat, 
 which he magnanimously declined receiving. 
 
140 A PORCINE EXrUs>til& 
 
 A PORCINE EXPOSURE. 
 
 " COULD N'T you get young pork, ma'am, to bake 
 with your beans 1 " said old Roger, somewhat cynically, 
 as he sat at table one Sunday. 
 
 " They told me it was young ! " said the landlady. 
 
 " Well, it may be so, but gray hair is not a juvenile 
 feature, by any means, in our latitude, ma'am/' contin 
 ued he, fishing up a gray hair, about a foot and a half 
 long, with his fork. "He may have been young, but 
 he must have lived a very wicked life to be gray so 
 soon." 
 
 As he spoke he looked along the table, and a slight 
 emotion was visible among the boarders ; and the man 
 who sat opposite, with his mouth full of the edibles with 
 which he had been endeavoring to smother a laugh, grew 
 dark with the effort, and then collapsed, scattering dis 
 may and crumbs amid the nicely-plaited folds of old 
 Roger's shirt-frills. 
 
 SPUNK. "7 wouldn't be so bothered about my 
 .ueals,'' said a jour printer to a brother typo, who had 
 to wait pretty often for dinner that did n't pay for wait 
 ing; " if I boarded out I "d have my dinner -just an 
 
 soon as I could get it. 
 
A NAVE IN THE CHURCH. 147 
 
 A NAVE IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 " A NAV.E in our church ! " screamed Mrs. Partingtcm, 
 as her eye rested on a description of the new edifice, and 
 the offensive word struck terror to her soul ; " a nave in 
 our church ! who can it be 7 Dear me, and they have 
 been so careful, too, who they took in. exercising 'em 
 aforehand, and putting 'em through the catechis and the 
 lethargy, and pounding 'cm into a state of grace ! Who 
 can it be? " And the spectacles expressed anxiety. " I 
 believe it must be slander, arter all. 0, what a terrible 
 thing it is to pizen the peace of a neighborhood dete ro 
 tating and backbiting, and lying af>oiit people, when the 
 blessed truth is full bad enough about the best of 
 us ! " 
 
 What a lesson is here for the mischief-maker to ponder 
 upon ! Truth lent dignity to her words, and gave a 
 beam to her countenance,, reminding one somewhat of a 
 sunset in the fall on a used-up landscape. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON, one Fourth of July, was much 
 incommoded by the crowd that rushed to see the proces 
 sion. She said she "did n't see the least need of scrowg- 
 ing so, for she dared say the procession was full long 
 enough to go round.' 
 
14(5 A POKCiNK EXFOtitllU. 
 
 A PORCINE EXPOSURE. 
 
 " COULD N'T you get young* pork, ma'am, to bsike 
 with your beans ? " said old Roger, somewhat cynically, 
 as he sat at table one Sunday. 
 
 " They told me it was young ! " said the landlady. 
 
 " Well, it may be so, but gray hair is not a juvenile 
 feature, by any means, in our latitude, ma'am/' contin 
 ued he, fishing up a gray hair, about a foot nnd a halt" 
 long, with his fork. "He may have been young, but 
 he must have lived a very wicked life to be gray so 
 soon." 
 
 As he spoke he looked along the table, and a slight 
 emotion was visible among the boarders ; and the man 
 who sat opposite, with his mouth full of the edibles with 
 which he had been endeavoring to smother a laugh, grew 
 dark with the effort, and then collapsed, scattering dis 
 may and crumbs amid the nicely-plaited folds of old 
 Roger's shirt-frills. 
 
 SPUNK. "/ wouldn't he so bothered about my 
 .ueals,'* said a jour printer to a brother typo, who ha<! 
 to wait pretty often for dinner that didn't pay for wait 
 ing; " if I boarded out I *d have my dinner just as 
 
 40011 as I could get it.' ; 
 
THE PUNDIT PUNNED. 149 
 
 THE PUNDIT PUNNED. 
 
 DR. Dioa and old Roger were holding an animated 
 conversation upon the subject of California, the Doctor 
 contending that the chances were against the emigrants 
 thither getting recompensed for their trouble; "for."' 
 said the Doctor, " the ground is all occupied, and those 
 coming last have small chance of procuring a lucrative 
 field for their operations." 
 
 " My dear sir," said old Roger, with animation, " I 
 can assure you it is not so; for I am informed by an 
 intelligent returned Californian that every man who 
 goes to the mines has his pick? 1 
 
 The Doctor, however, still contended for his point, and 
 could not see how it could be possible, and thought old 
 Rogers friend must be mistaken. 
 13* 
 
150 PUNCH IN THE HEAD. 
 
 PUNCH IN THE READ. 
 
 OLD Sherry came home one night when it was so near 
 morning that the line dividing the night from the morn 
 ing wa<$ legitimately debatable, and having taken an extra 
 glass or two previous to leaving the company he had been 
 with, he was somewhat dull of apprehension, and the 
 bouses seemed walking around him unaccountably, and 
 the streets, by some sort of undulatory motion that he 
 had never before noticed, seemed determined to throw 
 him down ; but he got home safely. 
 
 So far, well; but he had lost his night-key, or it was 
 in the pocket of his other pants, in the wardrobe, within 
 ten feet of the spot where Mrs. Sherry was probably at 
 that time reposing ; whose snore he even fancied he heard 
 jarring the latch of the outside door. It must be one or 
 the other, for he felt in his pockets for it in vain. He 
 did n't like to alarm the house, nor the people in it, for a 
 quarter of a century's experience of the quality of Mrs. 
 Sherry's temper led him to know that her welcome to 
 him, in his present plight, would be more warm than 
 agreeable, even if she consented to let him in at all. 
 
 It at last occurred to him that a window in the rear of 
 the house could be opened from the outside, and he at 
 once resolved to gain an entrance in this manner, then 
 creep up stairs to bed, and say nothing to anybody. 
 Accordingly, with this burglarious idea in his mind, he 
 went round to the back of the house. The window was 
 a little al>ove his reach, but he r ound a barrel somewhere, 
 
PUNCH IN THE HEAD. 151 
 
 and bj skilful manoeuvring got.it beneath the window 
 and elevated himself upon it: He tried to lift the sash, 
 and it slid up easily to the desired height, where he 
 secured it with a stick. Mr. Sherry congratulated him 
 self upon this triumphant achievement under difficulty. 
 The outposts were won - another step, and he would be 
 master of the citadel. Already was his foot raised to 
 take this last step ; his head and shoulders were within 
 the window, when the treacherous barrel, losing its equi 
 poise in the exertion Mr. Sherry was making, fell over : 
 his luckless elbow touching the stick that sustained the 
 window, it fell with a crash upon Mr. Sherry's broad 
 shoulders, and he found himself in a trap from which he 
 could not escape. 
 
 I Mr. Sherry's maiden sister, a romantic damsel of 
 thirty-five, had heard the noise, and as she awaked from 
 her slumber the idea of thieves flashed across her mind. 
 She had been dreaming of Iwigands and -robbers, and 
 the noise occurred just where a heroine was forcibly car 
 ried from her paternal home by ruffian^ in masks ! Upon 
 the spur of the moment she darted into her nephew's 
 chamber, contiguous to hers, and told him, in a big whis 
 per, that robbers were breaking into the house, and 
 added the gratuitous and sanguinary information that 
 they would all be murdered in their beds ! 
 
 While she went to impart this gratifying news to the 
 rest of the household, the young man arose, and, without 
 stopping to dress himself, seized a big stick and went 
 stealthily down stairs. He opened the door softly of the 
 room from which the noise proceeded, and, beholding tlio 
 supposed burglar in the window, the young Sherry gave 
 
152 PUNCH IN THE HEAD. 
 
 his parent's head a couple of whacks with the stick, when 
 a cry from that suffering specimen of suspended anima 
 tion revealed to the young man who the victim was, and, 
 with the assistance of the rest of the family, who had 
 now assembled, the two hundred pounds of old Sherry 
 were soon housed. 
 
 Such a lecture as he received ! Either the lecture, or 
 the debauch, or the cane, perhaps the whole combined, 
 gave him a severe headache the next morning, and he 
 was constrained to keep his bed. He summoned his son 
 to his bedside, and with an expression of grave authority 
 he asked the young man if he did n't think he was a 
 graceless rogue to be punchin' his parent's head in the 
 way he did if he was n't really ashamed of himself! 
 The young Sherry made- up a mouth, in which much fun 
 blended with considerable that was serious, and replied 
 that his respected sire would never have got any punch 
 in his head from him, had it not been for the punch he 
 had got in his head before he came home. The old 
 Sherry admitted the corn, turned over and slept on it. 
 
MATTER OF FACT AND SENTIMENT. 153 
 
 MATTER OF. FACT AND SENTIMENT. 
 
 SAID Augustus, as he gazed from Mrs. Partington's 
 little window, his finger pensively resting upon a cracked 
 china teapot upon the sill, " Here is a spot in which 
 to cultivate the flowers of poesy ; here the imagination 
 may soar on unrestricted wing; here balmy zephyrs 
 rising from embowering roses waft ambrosial sweets " 
 
 " Them is beans planted in the window," said the old 
 lady, interrupting him. "What you say is very true; 
 there's nothing better for a sore than balmy-gilead buds 
 in rum ; and it 's so handy to have 'em in a temperance 
 neighborhood, too, where people are too good to keep 
 rum in the house themselves, but leave it all to be 
 borryed of the neighbors. How glad I am always to 
 have it for 'em I They are so kind, too, always advising 
 me to give up keeping it in the house; but. dear me, 
 what woukl the poor creturs do if I should ! I may be 
 committing sin in keeping it ; but a bad use of a thing 
 makes all the trouble after all." 
 
 Augustus was moved : but there was so much of the 
 
 O / 
 
 " earth earthy " in her remark that he was silent. 
 
 " I should like to know what he meant about cmbowel- 
 ling roses," murmured she to herself; " peppermint 
 would be better if he has the colic/' 
 
 She looked at him earnestly, but there seemed no 
 token of pain, and she forbore to speak. 
 
154 
 
 COMMISERATION FOR CLERKS. 
 
 COMMISERATION FOR CLERKS. 
 
 HOPKEEPERS is not enough 
 thought of," said Mrs. 
 Partington, after having 
 been out making some 
 purchases. ii How they 
 do toil and how they suf 
 fer ! One dear pretty 
 young man, with a nice black coat 
 on and a gold chain and a starched 
 collar, with a carrivan on his neck, 
 told me with tears in his eyes that 
 he was selling to me at less than he 
 gave for it ; and I bought it out of 
 pity, though I knowed I could get it five cents a 'yard 
 cheaper next door. Talk about Moses being executed on 
 one string, indeed! These poor creturs are Rogerses, 
 every one of ? em, by the yard-stick, and are all the time 
 a dying." 
 
 There ? s a constant flow of the milk of compassion in 
 her breast-inexhaustible ; like the purse of the gentle 
 man in the story, the more that is taken from it the 
 more remains. The allusion to Moses was drawn from 
 an advertisement of a prodigy violinist, who was to play 
 a violin solo, from the oratorio of " Moses," upon one 
 
THE BOUQUET. 
 
 THE BOUQUET. 
 
 " LOOK here ! "exclaimed Mrs. Partington, in a tone 
 of triumph, as she returned from answering the door 
 bell, bearing in her withered hand a bouquet of generous 
 proportions and exquisite beauty, with her name written 
 in fair characters upon an accompanying card. " Look 
 here, at the bucket of flowers somebody has sent me. 
 How charmingly it smells, as well as looks ! And the 
 colors is all blinded together, too, so prettily ! " 
 
 At this stage of her admiration, a small billet dropped 
 upon the floor. : 
 
 "And here," she continued, "is a letter besides, 
 written in a beautiful hand, from somebody with orna 
 mental corners." " From your valentine, TIMOTHY 
 TOBY," closed the missive. 
 
 She said not another word, took one more inspiration 
 from the " bucket," and busied herself in preparing the 
 large-mouthed honey-bottle for its accommodation. It 
 might have been from the projecting lily spear, it might 
 have been from a grain of subtle maccaboy coming in 
 contact with her eye, and it might have been from some 
 deeper cause, but a tear escaped the area of the right 
 eye of her specs, and stood for an instant in pellucid 
 lustre on her check-bone, before passing away through 
 the channels time had worn in her face. 
 
156 MRS. PARTINGTON ON VENTILATION'. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON ON VENTILATION. 
 
 " WE have got a new venerator on our meeting 
 house/ 7 said Mrs. Partington; {; but how on airth they 
 can contrive to climb up there to let the execrations go 
 out is more than I can see into. But it is sich a nice 
 intervention for keeping a house warm! " 
 
 1 : What sort of a ventilator is it? '" asked we, anxious 
 to get an inkling of the old lady's philosophy. : 
 
 "It is one of the Emissary's,' 7 replied she, sagely, 
 ;c aud it is ever so much better than Professor Epsom's, 
 because a room is kept so warm and comfortable by it, 
 not the least danger of taking cold from draughts of 
 too fresh air. It will be a great accusation in cold 
 weather.*' 
 
 ' ; But how will it do in summer? 77 we again asked. 
 The dame, for a moment, was puzzled. She had not 
 thought of this contingency. 
 
 i; ! 77 cried she, after a few moments' reflection, aided 
 by the merest trifle of maceuljoy, at the same time prof 
 fering us the box ; "I suppose, then, they will stop it 
 up altogether, and open the windows/' 
 
 It was an idea worthy of the. profound black bonnet 
 and far-seeing specs before us. She left us then. We 
 watched her from the window, and felt anxious about 
 her rheumatism, as we saw her right foot sink in 
 a puddle, in an attempt to reach a Canton street 
 omnibus. 
 
OUR RELATIONS WITH MEXICO. 157 
 
 Any one who breathes the suffocating air of our con 
 cert rooms, will be reminded- of Mrs. Partington's " ven 
 erator" for keeping a room warm. 
 
 OUR RELATIONS WITH MEXICO. 
 
 " OUR relations with Mexico ! ' r said Mrs. Partington, 
 contemplatively, and her glance turned upward to the 
 wall, where the portrait of the deceased corporal, in 
 rigid pasteboard, looked straight forward, as if indicating 
 a bee-line of duty that she should follow, a sort of 
 pictorial cynosure, to which she always looked for guid 
 ance. " Our relations with Mexico ! " said she ; "some 
 of the poor creaturs, maybe, left there in the late hospi 
 talities, too poor to get back. If I was President Pierce, 
 now, I 'd send right away and bring 7 em all home by 
 express. The Mexicans had better not trouble any of 
 our relations, I can tell 'em ! ?J 
 
 Of course she could tell 'em. There was no doubt of 
 it. Mrs. Sled believed sho could, and Ike, who was 
 busy in transforming the old lady's new clothes-stick 
 into a bat, did n't say a word. If there is a weakness in 
 Mrs. P.'s character, and as a chronicler we should be 
 false to our trust to say that there was not, that 
 weakness is love for her relations ; continually manifest 1 ' 
 ing itself in blue yarn stockings and souchong tea. 
 14 
 
158 THE FIRST OP APRIL 
 
 THE FIRST OF APRIL. 
 
 " I NEVER see the like ! " said Mrs. Partington, 03 
 she slammed to the front door, with a noise and jar that 
 set everything to dancing .in the house, and the timid 
 crockery stood with chattering teeth upon the little 
 "buffet" in the corner. It was wrong in her to say she 
 had never seen the like, for this was the fifth time that 
 she had been called to the door by a violent ringing, 
 within half an hour, and had found no one there. 
 Hence anger so rarely an occupant of her mind, but 
 so justifiable now prompts! the slamming of the door 
 and the remark, " I never see the like ! " 
 
 It was the first of April, and the occurrence was the 
 more annoying for this reason. She stood still by the 
 door and watched stealthily for the intruder ; tapped her 
 box easily and regaled her olfactories with a dusty obla 
 tion, and held still. The peal of the bell again startled 
 her by its vehemence. She opened the door and looked 
 out, but no one was to be seen. As she turned away, 
 a string attached to the bell-wire, extending from the 
 banister, met her gaze, and, sitting quietly upon the 
 stairs, with a grin on his face that had a world of mean 
 ing in it and a world of fun in it, sat Ike f How the 
 spectacles sparkled in the rays of her indignation ! She 
 went for the rod, which had long rested on the shelf, 
 but it had been manufactured three days before into an 
 
AN INQUIRY ANSWERED. 159 
 
 * 
 
 arrow by Ike, ami, as the chance of finding it diminished, 
 her anger cooled like hot iron in the air, and the roguo 
 escaped. 
 
 AN INQUIRY ANSWERED. 
 
 " DOES Isaac manifest any taste for poetry, Mrs. 
 Partington?" a^ked the schoolmaster's wife, while con 
 versing on the merits of the youthful Partington. The 
 old lady was basting a chicken that her friends had sent 
 her from the country. 
 
 u J C9 " s 81 "! tue fcl lady, smiling ; " he is very 
 partially fond of poultry, and it always seems as if he 
 can T t get enough of it" The old spit turned by the 
 tire-place in response to her answer while the basting 
 was going on. 
 
 "I mean," said the lady, " docs he show any of the 
 divine afflatus ? '' ; 
 
 The old lady thought a moment. " As for the divine 
 flatness I don't know about it. He 's had all the 
 complaints of children,, and when he was a baby he fell 
 and broke the cartridge of his nose; but I hardly think 
 he 's had this that you speak of." 
 
 The roasting chicken hissed and sputtered, and Mrs. 
 Partington basted it again. 
 
160 BAILED OCT. 
 
 BAILED OUT. 
 
 " So, our neighbor, Mr. Guzzle, has been arranged at 
 the bar for drunkardioe," said Mrs. Partington; and she 
 sighed as she thought of his wife and children at home, 
 
 O O * 
 
 with the cold weather close at hand, and the searching 
 winds intruding through the chinks in the windows and 
 waving the tattered curtain like a banner, where the 
 little ones stood shivering by the faint embers. ;: God 
 forgive him and pity them ! J? said she, in a tone of 
 voice tremulous with emotion. 
 
 " But he was bailed out," said Ike, who had devoured 
 the residue of the paragraph, and laid the paper in a pan 
 of liquid custard that the dame was preparing for 
 Thanksgiving, and sut swinging the oven door to and fro 
 as if to fan the fire that crackled and blazed within. 
 
 "Bailed out, was he 1 "' said she ; "well, I should 
 think it would have been chea}>er to have pumped him 
 out, for, when our cellar was filled, arter the city fathers 
 had degraded the street, we had to have it pumped out. 
 though there was n't half so much in it as he has swilled 
 clown. 71 
 
 She paused and reached up on the high shelves of the 
 closet for her pie plates, while Ike busied himself in 
 tasting the various preparations. The dame thought 
 that was the smallest quart of sweet cider she had ever 
 seen. 
 
HAVE YOU OT A BABY. 161 
 
 HAVE YOU GOT A BABY? 
 
 A BACHELOR friend of ours was riding, upon a time, 
 through the state, when he overtook a little girl and 
 boy, apparently on their way to school. The little girl 
 appeared to be five or six years old, and was as beautiful 
 as a fairy. Her eyes were lit up with a gleam of intense 
 happiness, and her cheeks glowed with the hues of 
 health. Our bachelor looked at her for a moment ad 
 miringly. She met his glance with a smile, and with an 
 eager voice saluted him with, 
 
 " Have you got a baby ? " : 
 
 1 He was struck aback by the question, and something 
 like a regret stole over his mind as he looked upon the 
 animated and beautiful little face before him. 
 
 " No," he answered. 
 
 " Well," she replied, drawing her tiny form proudly 
 up, " we have,' 1 and passed on, still smiling, to tell the 
 joyous news to the next one she might meet. 
 
 What a world of happiness to her was concentrated in 
 that one idea the baby ! And in her joy she felt as 
 if all must have the same delight as herself; and it was 
 a matter of affectionate pride to her, that lifted her little 
 heart above the reach of ordinary care ; for in the baby 
 was her world, and what else had she to crave? Such 
 was the reflection of our friend, and he remembered it 
 long enough to tell it to us. 
 14* 
 
162 A HOME TRUTH. A SEASONABLE PUN. 
 
 '. I 
 
 A HOME TRUTH. 
 
 " WHAT a to-do they make about treating the slaves 
 bad at the south! " said Mrs. Partington; and everybody 
 strrined their ears to catch an opinion that perhaps was 
 fraught with the destiny of millions. There was a slight 
 tremor iu her voice, a sort of rumbling before the 
 " bustin' " of the volcano, and her eye looked troubled 
 as a lake by a fitful gust. "What a to-do they do make 
 about it, to be sure ! But some of our folks don't do much 
 better. I know a poor old colored man here in Boston 
 that they treat jest like a nigger. People aVt no better 
 than scribes, pharisees, and hippogriffs, that say one thing 
 and do another." 
 
 There is truth in thy remarks, 0, most estimable Mrs. 
 P.! Our philanthropy, we fear, if weighed in the just 
 balance, would be found often sadly wanting. 
 
 A SEASONABLE PUIV. 
 
 "FiXE gloves, them ! " said old Roger, as he held out 
 his hand, encased in a new pair he had just bought. An 
 assent was expressed. "But," continued he, "can you 
 tell me why a man is more likely to get taken in, while 
 buying gloves in winter than in summer 7" They 
 could n't. " I '11 tell you, then ; it 's because they are 
 more apt to get worsted." 
 
VARICOSE VEINS. 163 
 
 VARICOSE VEIJTS. 
 
 "WHAT is the matter with Mrs. Jewks, doctor?" 
 asked Mrs. Partington, as Dr. Bolus passed her house. 
 She had been watching for him for half an hour through 
 a chink in the door, and people who detected the end of 
 n nose thrust out of the chink aforesaid, stopped an 
 .instant to look at it, strongly inclined to touch it and see 
 what it was. 
 
 " She is troubled with viricose veins, mem," replied 
 the doctor, blandly. 
 
 w Do tell ! " cried the old lady :f well, that accounts 
 for her very coarse behavior, then, and it is n't any fault 
 o' her'n, arter all, poor woman, 'cause what is to be will 
 be, and if one has very coarse veins what can one 
 expect ? Ah, we are none of us better than we ought to 
 be!" 
 
 "Good morning, mem," said Dr. Bolus, as he turned 
 away, and the old lady shut the door. 
 
 "No better than we ought to be ! " What an orig 
 inal remark, and how candid the admission ! The little 
 front entry heard it, and the broad stair that led to the 
 chamber heard it, and Ike heard it, as he sat in the 
 kitchen, daubing up the old lady's Pembroke table with 
 flour paste, in an attempt to make a kite out of a choicely- 
 saved copy of the Puritan Recorder. " -Wo are no better 
 than we ought to be" generally. 
 
1G4 MRS. PARTrXCVTON ON VACATION'. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON ON VACATION. 
 
 " FIVE weeks' vexation in August!" said Mrs. Part- 
 ington, when she heard that the school had a vacation 
 for five weeks ; "five weeks' vexation ! It is a trying 
 season for mothers, and wearing and tearing to their 
 patience and the jackets and trousers of the children. 
 Talk about the relaxing from study ! I don't believe 
 it 's half as bad as the green apples they get in the 
 country. But I do love to see the little dears enjoying 
 themselves, frisking about like pigs in clover, as happy 
 as the days is long. What an idea of freedom there is 
 in a little boy with his face and hair full of molasses and 
 fun and good-nature ! Be still, you good-for-nothing! " 
 cried she, as Ike attempted to take her snuff-box ; "Be 
 still, I say! 7 ' 
 
 But it was not in anger ; for she felt in her capacious 
 pocket, and, from away down under her snuff-l>ox, and 
 thimbles, and bone-buttons, and needles, and pin-cush 
 ions, and beeswax, she brought up a ball of variegated 
 hues, and smiled as she gave it into his eager hand, and 
 bade him be a good boy. 
 
TOKCHLIliiir PATRIOTISM. 
 
 16, r > 
 
 TORCHLIGHT PATRIOTISM. 
 
 tORAY ! hooray ! " yelled 
 Ike, as lie dashed in at the 
 front-door with a lighted 
 torch, swinging it over his 
 head, and spattering the 
 oily fluid around upon the 
 tables and chairs, a drop 
 )\\ even falling upon the snow- 
 white table-cover that lay 
 folded up on a shelf. The 
 smoke of the torch filled 
 the kitchen, and rolled 
 along the snow-white ceil 
 ing in murky volume, to the great annoyance of Mrs. 
 Partington, who always said if there was anything on 
 "airtli" that she held in utter "excrescence," it was 
 "ile." 
 
 "What's to pay now?" said the dame rising, and 
 BUC heard, through the floor, the noise made by the 
 " unterrified democracy" in torchlight procession assem 
 bled. Paul was a democrat, and her sympathy kept time 
 with the martial music. 
 
 " Quite a furor," said we to her as we recognized her. 
 A tremendous cheer interrupted us. 
 
 " : A. few roar," said she, smiling. i; I think it is a good 
 many roar. Ah !*' continued .slu-, I <K> love to see the 
 
KJO MKS. PARTINGTON ON SUFFRAGE. 
 
 unclarified democracy in possession, with their torches a 
 blazing and their pau-ickism a busting." 
 
 She felt patriotic. Her face was momentarily lit up 
 with the emotions of her soul and the light of a Roman 
 candle, and then the venerable countenance melted away 
 in the darkness, as the candle, after making a great effort 
 to sustain itself, became exhausted and snuffed itself out. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTOiV ON SUFFRAGE. 
 
 " How these men do talk about exercising their right 
 of sufferings ! " said Mrs. Partington ; " as if nobody in 
 the world suffered but themselves. They don't think of 
 our sufferings., We, poor creturs, must suffer and say 
 nothing about it, and drink cheap tea, and be troubled 
 with the children, and scour and scrub our souU out : 
 and we never say a thing about it. But a man comes on 
 regularly, once a year, like a Farmer's Almanac, and 
 grumbles, about his sufferings; and it's only then jest to 
 choose a governor, arter all. These men are hard cre 
 turs to find out, and aVt worth much after you have 
 found 'em out." 
 
 This was intended as a lesson to Margaret, who was 
 working Charlotte and Wertcr on a blue ground, at her 
 side; but Margaret had her own idea of the matter, and 
 remained silent. 
 
DOWN W1TII THE TYRA3T. lu'7 
 
 DOWN WITH THE TYRANT. 
 
 " HA ! ha ! Down with the tyrant ! Death to the 
 Spaniard f " shouted Ike, as he .rushed into the kitchen ; 
 brandishing Paul's old artillery sword that had hung so 
 long on the wall. He struck an attitude, and then struck 
 the upright portion of the stove funnel till it rung with 
 the blow, and Mrs. Parlington, with amazement on her 
 countenance and the glass lamp in her hand, stood look 
 ing at him. Ike had been reading' the thrilling tale of 
 the " Black Avenger, or the Pirate of the Spanish 
 Main/ 7 and his " intellects," as Sir Hugh Evans might 
 say, were absorbed by the horrible. 
 
 " Don't, Isaac, dear," said Mrs. Partington, and sic 
 spoke in a gentle, but firm tone. " You are very scarify 
 ing, audit don't look well to S*MJ a young boy acting so. 
 It comes, I know, of reading them yellow cupboard 
 books. You should read good ones ; and if you won't 
 touch that again I will let you have my big Bible, king 
 James's aversion, with the beautiful pictures. I declare, 
 I don't know what. I shall do with you if you carry on 
 ao. I am afraid I shall have to send you to a geologi 
 cal cemetery to get the old sancho out of you." 
 
 The point of the sword was lowered as it was making 
 a passage for a dark spot in the centre panel of the door ; 
 the eye of the boy. so fiercely lit by the spirit of the 
 "Black Avenger," became mild and laughing, as he 
 said he was only "making b'lieve," and Mrs. .Partington 
 gave him a penny as she dt$;mned him What a visiMu 
 
168 .MRS. PARTINGTON AND THE CLERK. 
 
 cinotiou of peanuts became manifest as he grasped the 
 copper and made tracks for tho door, and climbed over 
 the snow drifts to reach the grocer's opposite ! 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AND THE CLERK. 
 
 "Is the steamer signified, sir?" asked Mrs. Parting- 
 ton at the telegraph station. 
 
 " Yes'm," replied the clerk, who was busily engaged 
 turning over the leaves of his day-book. 
 
 "Can you tell me," continued she, "if the queen's 
 encroachment has taken place yet ? " 
 
 " Some say she is encroaching all the time," said the 
 clerk, looking pleasantly at the old lady, and evidently 
 pleased with his own smartness. 
 
 " That isn't possible," responded the venerable dame ; 
 " but," said she to herself, " how could he be expected 
 to know about such things? and yet there is no reason 
 why he should n't, for all the bars to science, 'notatny 
 and them things, is let down now-a-days, and Natur is 
 shown all undressed, like a puppet-show, sixpence a 
 sight!". 
 
 " Good morning, sir," said she, as he bowed her out; 
 and as she passed down the stairs her mind, grasping the 
 manifold subjects of the telegraph, queen, and facilities 
 in science, became oblivious in a fog. 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY. 169 
 
 THOUGHT FOR THANKSGIVING DAY. 
 
 THIS day, long celebrated in New England, again 
 returns, amid whose festivities the heart expands itself 
 and awakes anew to cheerful life. Though the whole 
 year has bound it with selfish fetters, and it has pursued 
 unremittingly its aim of worldly gain or worldly ad 
 vancement, oft this day all the avenues to its genialities 
 are thrown open, and troops of kindly feelings, long 
 strangers, come thronging back to their early home, as 
 their possessors return, on this glad season, and revisit 
 the source from whence they sprung. 
 
 It is a time of gleo and a time of thankfulness, the 
 twin feelings of the season. The joy of meeting after 
 long separation ; the gathering of friendly faces about 
 the generous board ; the hilarious song and the graceful 
 dance; the sports of childhood, and the heart- mingling 
 of youth old enough and willing to love, all arc wor 
 ship, and offerings of thankfulness, where sweet inno 
 cence lends its charm. 
 
 It was known, months ago, that Tom was to come 
 Lome from the city to Thanksgiving. He had been gone 
 a whole year, and when his great red face had disap 
 peared it seemed for a while as if the sun had ceased to 
 shine. His first letter was an event in the lives of " the 
 old folks at home," and Tom's sisters; and Tom's sisters 
 had to carry the letter all round the neighborhood, that 
 people might see how well he could write, and what 
 15 
 
170 THANKSGIVING DAY. 
 
 proper words he used, and how ho crossed his t's and 
 minded his i's. But Tom has written many letters since, 
 and the novelty has worn off; but the affection arourid 
 the old homestead is as bright as ever. And Tom is 
 actually coming Lome to Thanksgiving, and the girls 
 will pinch his red cheeks and tease him with their kind 
 nesses as they used to do. His last letter tells his 
 father that he must have the marc at the depot by six 
 o'clock. The girls insist that they will drive down to 
 meet him ; they 're not afraid of a ; horse, not they, 
 and go .they will. The house is swept, and the wood is 
 piled up in the best-room fire-place, and the floor is 
 newly sanded, and the chair with the new tidy that 
 'Bella has knit is in its place for Master Tom when 
 he comes ; for Tom has got to be a character, and it 
 is a question if more preparation could be made for a 
 king's reception. The old folks talk of his coming, and 
 a softer expression than usual mingles in their voices, 
 and the clock is watched for the hour of his appearing. 
 Here they arc at last ! And the red-faced boy gets out. 
 Father ! Mother ! God bless you both ! and he is a 
 child again, the child of the old homestead, and 
 he loves every stick in the old house better than ever 
 before. 
 
 It is not time to talk yet about the big city, that is 
 reserved for the evening, when they are seated round the 
 cheerful fire. Now he must answer the questions about 
 his health, and if his last stockings fitted, and what he 
 thought when he heard his aunt Deborah had got mar 
 ried, and if his cousin John had given him the little 
 Bible hi? old schoolmistress sent him, they knew he 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY. 171 
 
 had, because Tom had said so in a letter home, and if 
 he heard that his cousin Sally had got a baby ! 
 Heavens! how the questions pour in upon him, and 
 will, until he gets his turn to ask, and theirs comes to 
 answer. 
 
 This is a picture-sample of a thousand such. Freights 
 of happiness are borne on every railroad car ; the steam 
 whistle of the locomotive conveys a thrill of pleasure to 
 many a listening heart ; the hum of business palls the 
 ear that listens for happiness, and the shutters are put 
 up for one day, the heart's jubilee. 
 
 Though sin and excess may mark and mar its hilar 
 ity, an aggregate of joy remains to it commensurate with 
 the virtue that remains to us. The noise of the turkey 
 is heard in the land ; ovations are made to the genius of 
 plenty ; groaning tables pave the way to groaning 
 stomachs, and thankfulness works its way out between 
 the scant apertures left in compact stomach stowage. 
 
 Heaven give the rich heart to help the poor, and to 
 make them thankful on this day, in spite of the three 
 hundred and sixty- four other days of hardship and pri 
 vation ! 
 
172 PEACE INCULCATED. HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 PEACE INCULCATED. 
 
 " BETTER is a crust of bread and quietness therewith 
 than a gtollid ox and strife," said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 heard the noise, of wrangling in a neighbor's house. It 
 was a Sunday morning, and Ike was cleaning his shoes 
 by the door with the clothes-brush. " Why can't folks 
 live in peace, without distention? How much people 
 have to answer for that causes animosity in a neighbor 
 hood ! Thank Heaven, I Ve never done anything of the 
 kind that my conscience acquits me of. " 
 
 With what a feeling this was uttered ! And the sun 
 light came into the window, and looked through her specs 
 down into her soul, and it was as calm there as the bot 
 tom of a well, not disturbed by Ike's whistling "Old 
 Dan Tucker" as an accompaniment to his brush. 
 
 HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 SEAT eleven millionaires in an omnibus, and seat 
 between them one old woman who has but five coppers 
 in the world, which she intends to invest in that one 
 ride. When the collector comes in, and the old lady 
 takes out her antique wallet to pay him, it is curious to 
 observe the avidity and eagerness with which the million 
 aires watch her operations, and peep over to catch a 
 glimpse at the interior of the wallet. That is human 
 nature. 
 
MB. STEAD FAST'S SOLILOQUY. 178 
 
 MR. STEADFAST'S SOLILOQUY. 
 
 TVfiLL, my mind 's at last made up. I 'm going against 
 rum, this 'lection. I've made up my mind on that pint, 
 and there 'a no shaking me. When I say my mind ? s 
 made up, folks may know what to depend upon. Yes, I 
 go against rum. It 's time we looked about us. It 's 
 time the people got their eyes open to the evil, and 
 I 'm one of 'em. But (stopping suddenly) the party ! 
 what would the party say ? I did n't think of that be 
 fore. The party, of course, must be looked to. What 
 could we do without party ? Where would the Union be, 
 and our institutions and what-do-yc-call-its, if it was n ? t 
 for the party, I should like to know ? Party is our egeus, 
 our pal-pal-what 's his name. But I can't go against rum 
 without going age .3t party. If I vote against rum, and 
 the temperance inspectors and constables and things are 
 chosen, where would our institutions be, and our destiny 
 as a nation, and the respect of people abroad, who we 
 don't care a copper about 1 And then, if I vote for party, 
 and rum triumphs, it would go on, undermining our moral 
 institutions and our physical constitutions. So, hang 
 me, betwixt 'em both, if I know what to do ! I have it. 
 I '11 make a compromise between cold water and rum, and 
 make it half rum and the other half rum-and- water. 
 That 's the ticket, and my mind 's made up to vote Jt 
 When my mind 's made up, there 's no moving me ! 
 15* 
 
174 MRS. PARTINGTON RURALIZING. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON RURALIZING. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON and Ike were hucklcberrying in the 
 country, and a large swamp was wearily canvassed to 
 find the quart which she bore in her five-quart pail. 
 She "despaired of filling it. 
 
 " Look here, aunt/' said Ike, in a sort of confidential 
 whisper, " look in there and see what a lot of 7 em." 
 
 There was a smile upon the face of the boy, that 
 betokened mischief, or it might have been a gleam of 
 satisfaction at the prospect of filling the pail ; but certain 
 ly a smile was round the little mouth, and the eye caught 
 it, and a roguish twinkle like a sunbeam lay sparkling 
 there. 
 
 " I see ! " said the old lady, and a moment later the 
 log-cabin bonnet, borrowed for the occasion, was seen 
 above the tops of the bushes, its restlessness indicating 
 its wearers activity. Ike remained outside. 
 
 Fizz-z-z Buzz-z-z ! what was that ? a humble- 
 bee, as we are a sinner. Another and another. The log 
 cabin was besieged, and Mrs. Partington rushed franti 
 cally from the bushes, swinging the tin pail and crying 
 " Shoo ! shoo ! " with all her might. It was a trying 
 time for the widow of Corporal Paul. And Ike did not 
 escape, for a big bumblebee attacked him, and he roared 
 heartily with a sting upon his cheek. The laugh disap 
 peared. 
 
 At the recital of their troubles at home, people re- 
 
VENTILATION. 175 
 
 garded the matter as a trick of Ike's ; but how could he 
 have known about the bumblebee's nest being in there ? 
 Mrs. Partington avowed that she " never was so frus 
 trated by anything in her born days," and the people 
 believed her. She thinks, notwithstanding the bees, that 
 she would like ^ have a " villain" in the country, and 
 become an " amatory" farmer. 
 
 VENTILATION. 
 \ 
 
 Ix the course of his rambles inVhe country, Mr. 
 Spotgam called at a poor-looking house V* the road-side 
 to inquire the whereabouts of a trout bixxV which he 
 supposed to be in the vicinity. Some pretty Children 
 attracted his attention, and he stepped inside the d<?^ to 
 play with them, and invest a few cents in their affeetiofc 
 Their father came in a moment afterwards, and appeared 
 somewhat confused to find a stranger in his humble 
 domicile. 
 
 "Warm, sir," said he, wiping his forehead; " wife, 
 throw up the window, and let us have a mouthful of fresh 
 air." 
 
 Mr. Spotgam looked at the window about to be 
 thrown up, and saw with pain that every square of glass 
 had been broken out. His mind turned to a nice mathe 
 matical calculation, in which he endeavored to make out 
 the difference between the quantity of air received through 
 an open window and one with no glass in it, and gave it 
 up in despair. 
 
176 LETTER FROM IKE, IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 LETTER FROM IKE, IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 HILLTOP, Sept. 10, 1852. 
 EAR BOB I wish you 
 was up here, and the 
 way wo would train you 
 would n't be slow. There 
 is boys enough up here, 
 but they don't know 
 nothing. When I first 
 come they did n ? t know 
 how to play jack-stones ! 
 But you'd better be 
 lieve I soon made T em 
 fly round. I ? ve found 
 enough to do since I 've been here. Wo ? ve got a boat, 
 and we go out swimming every day. The boat tips over 
 ever so easy, and don't you think, the other day, 
 when we were out with the girls, we tipped over right 
 where the water was overhead, and we all had to get 
 onto her bottom. I was n ? t at all skeered, though every 
 body said they knowed I did it on purpose. But you 
 know I would n't. 
 
 We J ve had some prime fun out a gunning. We did n't 
 kill anything only some tame pigeons ; but we put some 
 green beans into the gun and shot the dog, and he ki-hi'd 
 just as if he did ri't like it. I can fire at a mark first-rate. 
 I wish you could see the goose I made with wheel-grease 
 
LETTER FROM IKE, IN THE COUNTRY. 177 
 
 on the newly-painted barn-door, it's peppered brim full 
 of holes. There 's lots of apples and peaches, and if you 
 was here we ? d be in among 'em. There 's some over 
 there in the pasture just like some in our garden, but 
 them in the pasture is best, and they belong to the old 
 captain, and he r s a cross old fellow, and I should like to 
 fix him, cause he set his dog on me t' other day, because 
 I fired an apple at one of his hens, and broke a square of 
 glass. He 's a real cross old chap, and has n't got no 
 friends. 
 
 There r s some fine ponds here, and lots of mud turtles, 
 but all that is humbug about their leaving their shell 
 when you put a coal of fire onto their backs, because 
 I 've tried it. It makes 'em go it, though, I tell you. 
 Our dog is first-rate for catching of r em, and I got a 
 dozen of y em t j other day to bring home, and put 'em in 
 a barrel, and forgot all about 'em, and there they stayed 
 for ten days. I put r em in the water again, and away 
 they went. Don't you think, Bob, I caught a big bull 
 paddock and harnessed him the* other day, and you should 
 have seen hhn kick when I let him go. 
 
 I don't like the oxen they have here, because they 
 don't laugh, and when they are hauling anything they 
 seem to do it unwilling like, and look surly and cross. 
 Reasoning with T em don't do no good. I ride the horse 
 to water and drive the geese out of the corn. Up in the 
 corn yesterday I found what I thought was a great big 
 water-melon, and when I got over the wall and cut ii 
 it turned out to be a green punk in. 
 
 They have begun to make sweet cider, and I don't see 
 
178 OUT OF PLACE. 
 
 what people ever want to make sour cider for when this 
 is so nice. 
 
 I s'pose school begins soon, and the old woman will 
 want me to come home : but I don't want to a mite. 
 
 Tell Jim Jones I've swapped my jackknife, and got 
 a bran-new hawkey that I cut myself in the bushes. 
 
 Good-by, Bob. Write to me if you 've had any fun 
 this summer, and I am yours in clover. 
 
 IKE PARTIXGTON. 
 
 OUT OF PLACE. 
 
 i 
 
 "DOES your arm pain you much, sir?" asked a 
 young lady of a gentleman who had seated himself near 
 her, in a mixed assembly, and thrown his arm across the 
 back of her chair, and slightly touched her neck. 
 
 " No, miss, it does not j uut why do you ask'f " 
 . " I noticed it was considerably out of place, sir," re 
 plied she ; " that 's all. " 
 
 The arm was removed. 
 
TENDER NAMES. 179 
 
 TENDER NAMES. 
 
 THERE are people, in the romantic period of their lives, 
 who delight in bestowing tender terms upon objects of 
 their affection, borrowed from the pretty things of nature 
 or fancy, such as "My Rose Bud,'* "My Pink/ 7 " My 
 Diamond/ 7 " My Lily/ 7 or some such nice and delicate 
 name. Of all that we have ever heard, however, the 
 Irish term, "My Bloomer/ 7 sounds to us the best. 
 
 These terms arc all well enough when used in private 
 endearment, but when uttered in tho presence of others 
 they operate with a most nauseating effect. Fancy a 
 man, brimfull of the charms of his Dulcinca, to whom he 
 has given some romantic appellative, coming into a tailor's 
 shop, among the forty girls there employed, of whom his 
 heart's hope is one, and asking if his " Rose Bud " is 
 present, or addressing her as his " Rose Bud/' if she be 
 there. If the girl has any sense she will prove a i; Rose 
 Bud " with a thorn when she gets him out somewhere. 
 
 We had a friend who was smitten with this mania for 
 pretty names, and had adopted the romantic one of " My 
 Light ' 7 for his idol ; and for several years she had lighted 
 his path and his pocket in the way that lovers under 
 stand. It grew near the period when the word was to 
 be spoken that should make them "one flesh/ 7 when, 
 calling at her dwelling one evening, he asked the house- 
 girl, who met him in the entry, if his 
 in. 
 
180 LEARNING TO RELISII IT. 
 
 "No/' said she, "your light has just gone out 
 with Mr. /' naming an old rival. 
 
 Jealous pains seized him; he rushed to his boarding- 
 house, dashed madly up stairs, three at a time, opened 
 his drawer, and, seizing a pen, wrote a letter that 
 extinguished his " Light " forever. It was a severe blow 
 to his spirit, and in six months from the time of his 
 disappointment the poor fellow committed matrimony 
 with another and a more steady " Light/' the flame of 
 which burns undimmed even now. 
 
 LEARNING TO RELISII IT. 
 
 WE were surprised to sec Mr. Slow at an opera one 
 evening. Leaning over the back of his seat, we re 
 marked that we had an impression that he didn't like 
 opera music. 
 
 " I never did," said he, " till lately ; but I 've been 
 eddicating for it. It can be done. Talk about natur's 
 having all to do with it ! that 's all humbug. Natur 
 don't have any more to do with it than she does with 
 learnin us to eat tomatoes, nor sardines, nor oli'^s, 
 but by eddication we come to like 'cm. That ? s jest the 
 way with opcry music. The first time you don't like it ; 
 then you get another taste, and it 's better ; then you go 
 a little further, and it 's first-rate. There 's nothing li! e 
 eddication. Natur is well enough in her place, but 
 eddication does the job.' 7 
 
 Mr. Slow looked grave as he uttered this oracular 
 wisdom, and his auditors admired. 
 
PHLEBOTOMY A DISEASE. 181 
 
 PHLEBOTOMY A DISEASE. 
 
 " Do you think people are troubled as much with 
 fleabottomry, now, doctor, as they used to be before they 
 diskivered the anti-bug bedstead?" asked Mrs. Part- 
 ington of the doctor of the old school who attended upon 
 the family where she was staying. 
 
 " Phlebotomy, madam," said the doctor gravely, " is 
 a remedy, not a disease." 
 
 " Well, well," replied she, " no wonder one gets 'em 
 mixed up, there is so many of ? em. We never heard in 
 old times of tonsors in the throat, or embargoes in the 
 head, or neurology all over us, or consternation in the 
 bowels, as we do now-a-days. But it 's an ill wind that 
 don't blow nobody no good, and the doctors flourish on 
 it like a green baize tree. But of course they don't 
 have anything to do with it, they can't make them 
 come or go." 
 
 The doctor stepped out with a genteel bow, and the 
 old lady watched him till his cabriolet had turned the 
 corner, her mind revolving the intricate subject of cause 
 and effect. 
 
 16 
 
182 HIRSUTE ORNAMENTS. 
 
 HIRSUTE ORNAMENTS. 
 
 "WELL!" said Mrs. Part ington, as she leaned for 
 ward, with her hands resting on the window ledge, and 
 peered out into the street through a chink in the blinds. 
 It wasn't a deep well, expressive of content or satisfac 
 tion, but it was an cjaculatqry well, that found expres 
 sion at some object which she had witnessed in the 
 street. " Well," said she, " I hope that man is married. 
 I declare I do; because, if he is n't, I'm sure he never 
 will bo, for a dread filler looking creature I never did see, 
 with them mustychokes on his mouth nobody would n't 
 have him. I ? ve hcerd 'cm say that Heaven's best gift 
 to man was woman ; I should say that the next best gift 
 was a razor to such a man as that. Folks did n't take 
 pride in looking bad in old times ! " 
 
 She turned thoughtfully to the wall, where hung in 
 military rigidity that profile, the cherished gem of by 
 gone art, the counterfeit presentment of manly grace. 
 
 " Ah, Paul ! " sighed the dame, "you was an ornament 
 of your specie, and the cheapest among ten thousand, or 
 more! 11 She emphasised the " more," as if the con 
 trast was very great indeed between Paul and him who 
 had passed. But the profile took no notice of what she 
 said ; its gaze, chained to perpetual straightforwardness, 
 looked never to the right or left ; though, at times, she 
 said it bore a kinder expression about the mouth. But 
 this must have been her fancy, ivhich gave to every 
 object she looked upon the lino* of her own benignity. 
 
MRS. PARTI.VOTON AND PROBATE. 183 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AND PROBATE. 
 
 " 0, WHAT trials a poor widow has to go through ! " 
 sighed Mrs. Partington, rocking herself in a melancholy 
 way, and holding the morsel of maccaboy untasted 
 between her thumb and finger ; " terrible trials ; and 0, 
 what a hardship it is to be executioner to an intestine 
 estate- where enviable people are trying every way to 
 overcome the widow's might ; where it *s probe it, probe 
 it, probe it, all the time, and the more you probe it the 
 worse it seems ! The poor widow never gets justice, for 
 if she gets all, she don't get half enough. I have had 
 one trial of it, and if ever I should marry again, if it 
 should so please Providence to order it, I'll make my 
 husband fabricate his will before he orders his wedding- 
 cake; I'll take Time by the forctop, as Solomon says, 
 you may depend upon it. 77 
 
 She here revived a little, and the subtle powder passed 
 to its destination, and reported itself home by an em 
 phatic sneeze. 
 
 EXTRACT from a great unwritten poem of 1051 verses, 
 entitled " Ye Constabcl " : 
 
 " Ye constabcl from ono man t juk 
 
 A largo and ample fee, 
 I '11 now take ono from ye t'other side, 
 Said ye constabel. *ail he." 
 
184 DOMESTIC PURITY IMPUGNED. 
 
 DOMESTIC PURITY IMPUGNED. 
 
 " HAVE you got any rooms to let here, marm ? " said 
 a little man to Mrs. Partington, who occupied half of a 
 house, the other half of which was to let, and to whom 
 was entrusted the care of answering the door-bell. 
 
 The rooms were shown. 
 
 " They are not large," said the little man, depreciat 
 ingly. 
 
 "No, sir," replied she, "they are not very ruminous ; 
 but here are two little bed-rooms contagious that perhaps 
 you didn't see." 
 
 He looked in, and, in a supercilious tone, muttered, 
 " Hugs! 11 implying want of cleanliness, a reflection 
 on f he purity of the premises in her charge ! 
 
 There is a point, as she says, where patience ceases to 
 be virtuous, and she had found it. Indignation choked 
 her utterance ; and the little man fortunately departed 
 before it found vent. It was great, the way in which 
 she slammed the door to after him, and ejaculated 
 " Bugs! " till the empty rooms in echoing it seemed full 
 of bugs. It was a sublime moral spectacle. 
 
DID IT HURT YOU MUCH? 185 
 
 DID IT HURT YOU MUCH? 
 
 WHILOM there did dwell a barber in one of the most 
 populous streets of this city, the hues of whose insignia 
 by the street door, red and white, were typical often of 
 his customer's chins as they came under his professional 
 hand. Suds was a little fellow, but many a huge six- 
 footer did he have, unresisting, by the fose, and many a 
 fierce eye quailed beneath the gleam of that blade whose 
 edge so many had keenly felt. It was a sublime spec 
 tacle to behold him while enjoying his momentary tri 
 umph, his face absolutely shiny between the combined 
 influence of sweat and exultation, his razor, urged by 
 the fervor of his excitation, whirling through seas of 
 snowy lather with the rapidity of thought, his customer, 
 meanwhile, with eyes shut, and breath suspended, await 
 ing tremblingly the blow that should send him forth 
 noseless, a scoff and a reproach among men; though, 
 thanks to mighty science, such calamity seldom hap 
 pened. 
 
 A former, who resided in the vicinity of the city, and 
 supplied the people thereof with fruit, was excessively 
 annoyed by the boys, who would climb upon his wagon 
 and bite his apples, while inquiring the price, and pre 
 tending a desire to purchase. He took a big and fearful 
 oath, one day, ho was a very crabbed man, that the 
 first boy who that day took a bite should likewise take u 
 cut with it; he swore it on his whip ! 
 16* 
 
18G DID IT HURT YOU MUCH? 
 
 He jogged on undisturbed ; the urchins read " whip 
 lash " in his demeanor, and judiciously gave him a wide 
 berth. But Fate, that generally has to bear the odium 
 of causing all evil, that by many is deemed a sort of 
 subordinate Providence, who, in conjunction with Luck, 
 another genius of the same kidney, takes the destiny of 
 men to work out by the job, pulled the reins directly 
 opposite the barber's door. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Suds had that very day charged Mr. S. to 
 procure some fruit, she did ;i long so to cat an apple/' 
 and he, as he Avas looking out of his window, his last 
 customer having departed, was minded of her request, as 
 the wagon, with its rich and tempting load, stopped 
 within the range of his vision. He was fond of apples 
 himself, and, running hastily out, he stepped upon the 
 wagon wheel, took up an apple, and bit it, and at the 
 same time inquired the price. 
 
 Fatal bite! to Suds fatal as the first bite in Par 
 adise was to Adam. A whistling sound he heard in the 
 air, and then the whip, stinging with the malignity of 
 concentrated spite, fell quick upon his unguarded shoul 
 ders, to his deep shame, and astonishment, and pain. 
 Jumping down as quick as he could, he stood on the 
 pavement, an injured and. indignant man, and fiercely 
 demanded the cause of the outrage. 
 
 The farmer had mistaken him for a boy, and, profuse 
 of apology, endeavored to appease the little lion of the 
 brush by stating his annoyance by the boys, to say 
 nothing of his loss by biters, and his determination to 
 put a stop to it by the summary means he had given 
 Suds a taste of. Suds was a reasonable man, and ad- 
 
DID IT HURT YOU MUCH? 187 
 
 mittcd that the farmer was nearly right, even while he 
 shrugged his shoulders with the remembered pain, and 
 they parted on as good terms as the circumstances would 
 admit of. 
 
 Unfortunately for the peace of the little man, a neigh 
 bor, who loved to stir up Suds, had seen the castigation. 
 and each day as he came to be shaved would he ask 
 with the tenderest solicitude, " Did it hurt you much ? " 
 
 always after shaving, however: for his nose would 
 certainly have been in the way during the agitation the 
 question produced, had he asked it before. That question, 
 so sneeringly asked ! Human nature could n't stand it, 
 patience could n't stand it, Suds could n't stand it ; and 
 that question was a declaration of war with all who put 
 it to him. Continual dropping will wear a stone. 
 
 One day Suds was splitting wood in the back yard, 
 
 like a dentist working away among the old stumps, - 
 fretting at the unrivable tenacity with which they held 
 together, when, sticking his axe into one apparently 
 on the point of yielding, he swung it above his head to 
 bring it down upon a block, and thus force the axe 
 effectively through the tough fibres. The axe, with the 
 wood adhering, was raised aloft, the blow was about to 
 be struck, but, slipping from the iron, the block took 
 another direction, and fell heavily upon the hatless poll 
 of the unfortunate barber. 
 
 His wife had seen the whole proceeding from the 
 window, and, rushing out to ascertain the extent of the 
 damage, she anxiously inquired, " Mr. Suits, (fid if 
 hurt you much?" To say that fire flashed from his 
 eyes would be inadequate, chain-lightning alone could 
 
188 DID IT HURT YOU MUCH? 
 
 typify the glance he gave the solicitous Mrs. S. and a 
 small thunderbolt like a billet of wood darted upon the 
 wings of a fierce anathema at her devoted head. She 
 dodged the missile, and a smashed window remained a 
 monument of his passion. 
 
 Poor Suds ! he soon removed from that locality, and 
 the little shop where he shaved, and sheared, and suf 
 fered is obliterated by the huge granite piles that indicate 
 the progressiveness of commerce. 
 
"FARE, MA'AM.' 
 
 189 
 
 FARE, MA'AM." 
 
 ow do you do, dear?" 
 said Mrs. Parting- 
 ton, smilingly, shaking 
 hands with Burbank, in 
 the Dock-square omni 
 bus, as he held out hia 
 5. five dexter digits to- 
 ";(' wards her. 
 
 "Fare, ma'am! "said 
 he, in reply to her in 
 quiry. 
 
 "Well, I'm shore, 
 I'm glad of it, and 
 how are the folks at home?" 
 
 " Fare, ma'am ! " continued he, still extending his hand. 
 the passengers were uuerested. 
 
 "How do you like Boston?" screamed she, as the 
 omnibus rattled over the stones. 
 
 " Fare, ma'am ! " shouted he without drawing back his 
 hand ; "I want you to pay me for your ride ! " 
 
 " ! " murmured she, " I thought it was some one 
 that knowed me," and rummaged down in the bottom of 
 her reticule for a ticket, finding at last five copper cents 
 tied up in the corner of her handkerchief the "hist 
 war" handkerchief, with the stars and stripes involved 
 in it, and the action of the Constitution and Guerriere 
 
190 PAYING PROMPTLY. 
 
 stamped upon it. But the smile she had given him at 
 first was not withdrawn there was no allowance made 
 for mistakes at that counter and he went out, with a 
 lighter heart and a heavier pocKet, to catch t ? other coach. 
 
 PAYING PROMPTLY. 
 
 " IF there is any place in this world where I like to 
 ransack business more than another," said Mrs. Parting- 
 ton, with animation, untying from the corner of her hand 
 kerchief a sum of money she had just received, ;; if there ? s 
 any place better than another it ? s a bank. There "s no 
 dillydalliance, and beating down, and bothering you with 
 a thousand questions, till you don't know whether your 
 heels arc up or your head is down ; all you have to do is 
 to put your bill on the counter, and they pay it without 
 saying a word." 
 
 The old lady had presented a check for a quarter's 
 pension r money, received on account of Paul, who. in the 
 " last war," served a fortnight in fortifying Boston 
 harbor, and got mortar in his eyes, which hurt his 
 " visionary organs" so that he took to glasses. 
 
MEMENTO MORY. 191 
 
 "MEMENTO MORY." 
 
 BEFORE Old Roger left boarding at No. 47, he for 
 feited all regard of the quiet inmates of the house by the 
 perpetration of the following atrocity, which was the 
 true reason of his leaving, and not the quality of the 
 bread-pudding, as many believed. Mory, the Kilby 
 street clerk, got married, and moved off. It had always 
 been a custom with Mory to pile his dishes up in a 
 curious manner, after he had used them, cups, saucers, 
 plates, in a heterogeneous heap. A day or two after 
 his departure from the house, Old Roger was observed 
 piling his cup and saucer and plates in the same manner, 
 and he took those of his neighbor to add to the pile. 
 The boarders watched him silently, in much surprise, 
 and one of thcm r a little bolder than the rest, ventured 
 to ask him what he was doins that for. 
 
 O 
 
 " 0," said Roger, very placidly, crowning the pile he 
 had made with the cover of the sugar-bowl, " I am only 
 erecting a memento J\Iory. 1J 
 
 Mr. Blifkins, the serious man, exhorted the more 
 volatile boarders on the impropriety of laughing at such 
 an outrageously sacrilegious use of a respectable dead 
 language. From that day Roger had cold shoulder for 
 dinner, and the coldness of the landlady" became sud 
 denly manifest in cold potatoes, and in the rheumatic 
 condition of his room attic ; so he left. 
 
192 MESMERISM. 
 
 MESMERISM. 
 
 " Do you believe in mesmerism? " we asked of Mrs. 
 Partington, as she dropped alongside of us yesterday 
 morning, like a jolly old seventy-four. 
 
 "Believe what? " said she, sitting down in the other 
 chair. 
 
 The question involved an answer from us of some 
 fifteen minutes' length, running through the whole of 
 mesmerism, clairvoyance, and psychological phenomena, 
 like a knitting-needle running through a ball of yarn. 
 
 " 0, yes," said she, " I believe all of that, and I know 
 a case in pint, to prove it When Miss Jeems had her 
 silver- plated spoons extracted, that was her mother's 
 afore her, and she sot a sight by 'em, she come away 
 to Boston to see a miserymiscr, I b'leve you call it. 
 Well, he told her jest where her spoons was, and who 
 stole 'em, and all about it,' and the color of his hair, and 
 all that. Well, she gin him a dollar, and when she got 
 home she went right where the spoons was, and could n't 
 find a thing about 'em. No, no, that isn't the story, 
 nuther; 't is about Sally Sprague and her beau. You 
 see" 
 
 At this instant the door opened, and company came 
 in, and Mrs. Partington, pleading an excuse that she 
 wanted to tend one of the " adversary meetings," sub 
 sided, like a wave upon the shore. 
 
SLIGHT MISTAKE. CONSIDERABLY TRUE. 193 
 
 A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 
 
 MR. VERIGREEX, passing by the entrance to a hall 
 where some sable minstrels were exhibiting, saw a black 
 fellow coming out through the arch. Mr. V. stopped 
 and looked at him earnestly, at which the colored gentle 
 man was rather indignant, and demanded what he wag 
 looking at. 
 
 " NothhV pertickler," said Mr. V. " I was jest lookin 
 ter see what a plaguy difference there is betwixt you 
 now, and last night, when you wor a singin in there. I 
 wouldn't a b'leeved it was the same individooal." 
 
 Mr. V. put his hands in his pockets and walked along. 
 
 CONSIDERABLY TRUE. 
 
 WE find it stated in a paper that a well-bred woman, 
 if surprised in a somewhat careless costume, docs not try 
 to dodge behind a door to conceal deficiencies, nor does 
 she turn red and stammer confused excuses. She 
 remains calm and self-possessed, and makes up in dignity 
 what she may want in decoration. This is true. The 
 most sensible woman we ever saw was one who, when her 
 husband took us home on a washing day to look at his 
 new house, never made one word of apology for the con 
 fusion that existed, nor once begged us not to " look 
 round." 
 
 17 
 
194 
 
 OLD BULL'S CONCERT. 
 
 "OLD Bull's concert! " said Mrs. Partington, glanc 
 ing up from her knitting us she read the announcement 
 of the grand concert on Saturday evening, and she smiled 
 as the ridiculous fancy ran through her mind, like a grass 
 hopper in a stubble field, of an old bull giving a concert. 
 u And yet it isn't so very wonderful, " continued she, 
 "for I remember a cat and canary that lived together, 
 and one or t' other of ? cm used to sing beautifully. But 
 I wonder what he plays on." 
 
 Ike suggested that he played on one of his own horns, 
 which seemed to be reasonable. 
 
 " I am glad he is going to give his concert, because, 
 when I went down to hear a great artisan play on a 
 violence, as they called it, though I found out afterwards 
 it was nothing but a fiddle, they were going to charge a 
 dollar till I told r em I was one of the connections of the 
 Post, and they let me in. I can't think what music an 
 old bull can make, I'm sure. It must be very uproari 
 ous, I should think, and better fitted for overturns than 
 for pasturcal music/' 
 
 She closed her critique with a pinch of snuff, and got 
 on to her wires again like a telegraphic despatch, and 
 went ahead, while Ike amused himself by scratching his 
 
 w O 
 
 name with a board nail in magnificent Roman capitals 
 upon the newly-painted panel of the kitchen door. 
 
ANGULAR SAXONS. 195 
 
 ANGULAR SAXONS. 
 
 "I DON'T know," said Mrs. Partington, and the ex 
 pression, considered as a mere abstraction, was true, for 
 there are some that have more of the world's wisdom 
 and a better knowledge of grammar than the dame ; for 
 the school for her teaching was not one of letters. 
 But let us hear her. t; I don't know/' said she, C about 
 these Angular Saxons being any better than our old- 
 fashioned ones." 
 
 Ike had been reading to her an article upon the des 
 tiny of the Anglo-Saxon raco. 
 
 " And as for the race, Isaac/' and her voice fell to a 
 pitch of deep solemnity as she spoke, " it is n't proper at 
 all ; for when a funeral goes too quick to say nothing 
 about racing it always is a forerunner, sometimes, 
 that somebody '11 die before the year 's out. The old 
 saxons were full fast enough, naturally ; and arter the 
 parish gin our saxon the surfeit of plate for his officious 
 services, it spruced him right up, and it seemed as if it 
 would have pleased him to bury all of 'cm, he was so 
 grateful. No, no, we don't want any Angular Saxons, 
 Isaac, when our own are full good enough." 
 
 Ike, as she was talking, had amused himself with 
 tying the old lady's snuff-box in the corner of hn hand 
 kerchief and was experimentally swinging it around his 
 head ; and she ceased just as the box, released from the 
 knot, dashed against the opposite side, scattering the 
 
196 WATER GAS. 
 
 pungent powder in plenteous profusion upon the sanded 
 floor. Of course he did n't mean to do it, and that was 
 all that saved him. 
 
 WATER GAS. 
 
 " WELL, that is a discovery ! " exclaimed Mrs. Part- 
 ington, smilingly ; and she stood with a small pitcher in 
 her right hand, her left resting upon the table, and her 
 eyes fixed upon the flame of a glass lamp, that sputtered 
 a moment and then shot out a light that irradiated every 
 part of the little kitchen, and revealed the portrait of 
 Paul upon the wall, and Ike asleep hy the fire. She 
 spoke to herself; it was a way she had; she met with 
 no contradiction from that quarter. " This is a discov 
 ery ! Where is Tom Paine and his gas now, I should like 
 to know ? Here I r ve been and filled this lamp up with 
 water, and it burns just as well as the real ile." 
 
 The experiment was perfectly triumphant ; the prob 
 lem of light from water was demonstrated ; and yet, 
 wijth this vast fact revealed to her, Mrs. Partington, with 
 a modesty equal to that of the great philosopher who 
 picked up a pocket-ful of rocks on the shore of the 
 great ocean of truth, smiled with delight at her discovery, 
 nor once thought of getting out a patent or selling 
 rights. 
 
MRS. PART1XOTOX AT THE OPERA. 197 
 
 MRS. PARTI SGTOX AT THE OPERA. 
 
 WE were surprised, at the opera, last evening, by 
 having a hand placed upon our shoulder. It was a 
 gentle touch ; altogether unlike certain other touches on 
 the shoulder that delinquent men so much dread. It 
 came at a time when we were all absorbed by the melody 
 of the charming Sontag, and were provoked at the in 
 trusion. 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to lend me your observ 
 atory ? ?r asked a voice that we thought we remcrntered. 
 
 Looking round, " Great heavens ! " we cried, " Mrs. 
 Partington! ." 
 
 It was, indeed, that estimable dame, but yet it was 
 not ; for the black bonnet had disappeared, and a new 
 rigolette adorned her venerable poll, beneath which every 
 sprig of wavy gray was securely tucked. But the smile 
 was there, as warm as a June morning at nine o'clock. 
 She repeated the request to use the pearl and diamond- 
 studded opera-glass, that we had hired at Fetridgc's for 
 twenty-five cents, denominating it an "observatory/' 
 
 " Is this the right pocus? " said she ; " I s'pose I shall 
 have to digest it to my sight, for my poor visionary orgies 
 are givi:.g out." 
 
 She levelled both barrels at the singers at once, and 
 brought them down to her, and Pozzolini directed three 
 successive appeals to her tenderness. 
 
 "ItaVt no use," said she, as she handed the glass; 
 17* 
 
108 A SLIGHT MISAPPREHENSION. 
 
 " I can't understand better with that, I should have 
 bough tone of the lab'ratories at the door/' 
 
 She beat time gracefully to the music for a while upon 
 the cover of her snuff-box, and then went out, like an 
 exhausted candle, to try and light on Ike, who was 
 trading for a jacknife with another boy on the gallery 
 stairs. 
 
 A SLIGHT MISAPPREHENSION. 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTOX was at Thackeray's last lecture, 
 Mr. T. had kindly sent her a card, admitting one, - and, 
 fonjettinx the theme of the lecture, she leaned over the 
 
 O O ' 
 
 seat and asked the gentleman before her what the subject 
 was. 
 
 " Goldsmith and Sterne, mem," was the reply : ; ' but 
 he is on Sterne, first." 
 
 Mrs. Partington blushed. There was evidently a 
 question agitating her mind as to whether she should 
 tarry and hear a lecture from a person so ridiculously 
 pstured as Mr. T. must appear. She looked around, 
 meditating a retreat; but the avenue to escape was blocked 
 up, and she thought she might as well stay it out. 
 She watched tremblingly for Mr. Thackeray, and was 
 much relieved by seeing him standing perpendicularly 
 before her. She thought she must have mistaken the 
 meaning of her informant. 
 
APOLLYON BONYPART. 199 
 
 APOLLYON BONYPART. 
 
 "WHEN will the world get rid of this Apollyon Bony- 
 part?" said Mrs. Partington, as Ike threw down the 
 paper in which he had read a comparison between the 
 " 18th Bruraaire" and the " coup d'etat. 7 ' In the un 
 certain glimmerings of her memory, she confounded the 
 nephew and uncle, and her thought took the course the 
 dim reminiscence pointed. 
 
 ".Apollyon Bonypart! I remember all about him, 
 and his eighteenth blue mare too. I always wondered 
 where he got so many of ? ern, something like the 
 woolly horse, I guess, and when he was transplanted 
 to Saint Domingo, Isaac, folks went up to the King's 
 Chapel to sing tedium about it, because they were glad 
 of it. And now he 's come back agin, with all his blue 
 marcs with him." 
 
 The dropping of a stitch brought her down from the 
 new hobby she was riding so furiously, and Ike drew a 
 picture of a blue mare, in chalk, upon the newly- washed 
 kitchen floor. 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTOX says she don't sec why people 
 want to be always struggling for wealth ; for her part, 
 she affirms that all she wants is food and raiment and 
 
 clothes to wear to meeting. 
 
200 
 
 PAUL AND POLITICS. 
 
 PAUL AND POLITICS. 
 
 AS Paul inclined to poli 
 tics ? " we asked of Mrs. 
 Partington, as we saw the 
 old dame reading a "grand 
 rally' 7 hand-bill at the 
 corner of the grocery store. 
 She asked us to wait a 
 - - moment t'll she "digested" 
 her specs. "Inclined to 
 ^ politics!" said she, and 
 her eyes rested upon the 
 period at the end of the 
 last line, till she seemed 
 
 to be meditating a full stop. " He was; but he was n't a 
 propergander, nor an oilygarchist, or an avaritionist, nor 
 a demigod, as some of 'cm are ; all he wanted was an exer 
 cise of his sufferings and the use of his elective French 
 eyes, as he used to say. Ah, Heaven rest him ! " ex 
 claimed she, as her eyes rose from the period at the bottom 
 of the bill and rested on the top of the fence. " But did 
 he never get an office, Mrs. P.'?" we asked. "Yes. 
 replied she, arid we fancied the tone of her voice had an 
 expression of triumph in it enough to be perceptible, 
 like three drops of paregoric in a tcaspooriful of water 
 " yes, he was put one year for a hogrecfer, and got 
 neglected." As we were about asking her opinion of the 
 
A PREDICTION. 201 
 
 new constitution, Ike came along whistling " Jordan " 
 and swinging a pint of milk, in a tin pail, around his 
 head, and the old lady forgot- her politics in her solicitude 
 about Ike's soiling his new cap. 
 
 A PREDICTION. 
 
 IKE came running in one day during the sleighing 
 season, with, l ' 0, aunt, I just now saw a little boy fall 
 right down under a sleigh in Washington-street ! " 
 
 " Dear me ! " she screamed, horror-struck ; " bless 
 my soul .1 did it hurt him much? did it kill him instant 
 ly?" 
 
 " O, no, aunt ! " replied he ; "it did n't hurt him at 
 all, for the sleigh had n't any horse in it." 
 
 Ilis face beamed with fun. 
 
 " Ah, you disgraceless boy ! " cried the old lady, with 
 her finger raised, at the same time with her apron wiping 
 away the mists that the momentary sympathy had gath 
 ered in her eyes ; "ah, you disgraceless boy ! you won't 
 die in your bed if you tell such stories ! " 
 
 There never was a kinder creature than she ; and, as 
 she looked on his good-natured face and sparkling eyes, 
 she patted his head and gave him an apple. 
 
202 TIIK DESSERT. BOSTON MUSIC HALL. 
 
 TIIE DESSERT. 
 
 "DESERT, did you say?" growled old Roger, at a 
 festival supper some time ago, to a person who sat oppo 
 site him at the table, who had called for the dessert ; 
 'come over this side, my friend, and you ' 11 have no 
 occasion to call far it. It 's quite a desert, and almost 
 a per feet famine here already, and has been so all the 
 evening. Don't look at that turkey that is nothing 
 that is only a promise made to the hope and broken to 
 the stomach; for human strength cannot divide its mem 
 bers they are unanimously tough." And the little 
 man recommenced ogling a ham that was rapidly disap 
 pearing in the dim distance, and mumbled cheese crumbs 
 to allay the cravings of unsatisfied appetite. 
 
 BOSTON MUSIC HAIL. 
 
 WHEN Mrs. Partingtpn first visited the new Music 
 Hall, she looked at the structure with great admiration. 
 It was in the day-time, and the gas burners over the 
 edge of the cornice met her eye. Turning to Mrs. Bat- 
 tlegash, who sat next to her, she remarked that every 
 thing seemed excellent <; except the out-of-the-way place 
 where they driv the nails for the ostriches to hang their 
 coats on," and pointed to the ceiling, saying she did n't 
 believe they could ever rench thorn. 
 
TROUSSEAU OF PRINCESS WASA. 203 
 
 TROUSSEAU OF PRINCESS WASA. 
 
 IKE read, "At Paris, the dressmakers, jewellers, 
 and milliners have all been occupied in furnishing the 
 trousseau of the Princess Wasa." 
 
 "Stop, Isaac/ 7 said Mrs. Partington, raising her 
 finger, and glancing at him over the top of her specta 
 cles; "is that so?" 
 
 He assured her that it was. 
 
 " Well," continued she, and a blush of offended mod 
 esty crossed her features, like the sun-flush on the newly 
 reddened barn-door; "that maybe the way they do 
 things in Paris, but it is n't modest to begin with. A 
 woman has no right to wear 'cm. ? T is agin natur and 
 decency. And what does she want so many of ? em for ? 
 She can't wear but one pair to a time, and here she has 
 got all of the dressmakers making trousers for her, as if 
 she was going to live long enough to wear 'em out. Ah, 
 women -a'h't what they were once ! ". ' 
 
 She rose suddenly as she spoke, and Ike, who was 
 upon the back of her chair, endeavoring to tie a string 
 to a nail in the big beam that traversed the ceiling, was 
 thrown violently against the table, breaking three plates 
 and a teacup in his descent. 
 
204 STOCK OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 STOCK OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 " WE have little left of the revolutionary stock, now," 
 said the schoolmaster, as he seated himself in Mrs. Part- 
 ington's back-room, and wiped his brow. There was a 
 meaning in her spectacles, as they glanced upon him, 
 responsive to his remark, but she said not a word. Draw 
 ing a chair towards her, she smilingly stepped upon it, 
 and, standing on tiptoe, reached away back into a closet 
 in which were kept the remnants of past service, bottles 
 and paper bags, and a heterogeneous mass of odds and 
 ends that would have made the fortune of a showman, : 
 the blue stockings revealing themselves as she prosecuted 
 her search; but the schoolmaster didn't cc* them 
 not he. 
 
 " Revolutionary stock ! " said Mrs. Partington, and 
 her voice seemed choked by the dust raised in the old 
 cupboard, "here's one of 'em ! " and she reached out, 
 with a present-arms motion, an old musket-stock. " Here 
 is a relict of the revolution that has survived the time 
 that tired men's souls ; and, poor souls ! I should think 
 they would have been tired to death with the smell of 
 the powder and balls. I keep this up here away from 
 Isaac, for fear he should do some mischief with it, for I 
 don't want him to have nothing to do with fire-arms. 
 Is n r t it a relict ? ? * 
 
 Bless thee, Mrs. Partington ! and thou art a relict, 
 thyself, more to bo prized than stacks of arms ; and, did 
 

 o , K I T II i: K I V !. I' T I M-\ 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF COUNTRY HEALTH. 205 
 
 thy warm spirit pervade the land, war would be no longer 
 the scourge of the nations, and men would not know 
 fighting any more. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF COUNTRY HEALTH 1 . 
 
 " PEOPLE may say what they will about country air 
 being so good for 'em," said Mrs. Partington, "and how 
 they fat up on it ; for my part, I shall always think it is 
 owin' to the vittles. Air may do for camamiles and 
 other reptiles that live on it, but I know that men must 
 have something substanialler." 
 
 The old lady was resolute in this Opinion, conflict as 
 it might with general notions. She is set in her opin 
 ions, very, and in their expression nowise backward. 
 
 " It may be as Solomon says/' said she ; {; but I lived 
 at the pasturage in a country town all one summer, and 
 I never heerd a turtle singing in the branches. I say I 
 never heerd it; but it may be so, too, for I have seen 
 'em in brooks under the tree, where they perhaps dropped 
 off I wish some of our great naturals would look into 
 it." 
 
 With this wish for light, the old lady lighted her candle 
 and went to bed. 
 
 18 
 
206 TIIE 1'UOMENADE. 
 
 THE PROMENADE. 
 
 WE sat directly in front of Mrs. Partington at Jullien's 
 concert, one night, ami were pleased to witness the marked 
 attention that she paid to the performance. The first 
 part had been concluded, and the ' ; fifteen minutes' inter 
 mission for promenade/' announced on the bill, had been 
 well spent, when we felt a finger laid upon the arm that 
 rested upon the back of the next seat, and a whispered 
 voice was breathed into our sinister ear : 
 
 " When is he going to carry it round 1 " 
 
 We looked at her inquiringly, and she looked inquir 
 ingly back again. 
 
 "Carry it round?" 
 
 " Yes," replied she, " the promenade here. 'T is the 
 refreshment part of the entertainment, is n't it 1 " 
 
 We explained to her the meaning of the word "prom 
 enade/ 7 and, with a long drawn " 0! :? like an extended 
 cipher, she sank back into her seat. Ike was blowing 
 peas at a gentleman's boot projecting through the lattice 
 work of the gallery. 
 
MRS. PARTINGTOX IS TUB CROWD. 207 
 
 MRS.PARTINGTON IX THE CROTVD. 
 
 " DON'T go anigh it, Isaac," said Mrs. Partington, 
 with nervous anxiety, on the day of the great railroad 
 jubilee procession, as the carriage, bearing the big gun, 
 came by where she and Ike were standing. She had 
 been very nervous all the morning, and had made some 
 curious mistakes. When the procession first came along, 
 she waved her handkerchief at an alderman, taking 
 him to be the president ; and Marshal Tukey she thought 
 was Lord Elgin. 
 
 " Don't go anigh it, it 's one of the pesky Paxon 
 guns we read of; they call r em peace-makers because 
 they tear people all to pieces; arid, depend upon it, 
 Isaac, if a man got hit once or twice with such a gun as 
 that, my idea is, that there would n't be much left of him. 
 0, the wickedness of men. that they should learn war, 
 and kill people, and spoil good clothes, and act more like 
 Kottenpots or salvages than they do like men ! They 
 say this Mr. Paxton has got up a Christian Parish in 
 London, and everybody is going to see it. Well, I hope 
 he will tend it himself, and get good, and repent of the 
 evil he has done. But, I "m sure, I hope he won't have 
 any such machines as that, ever, to help his preach- 
 ing." 
 
 The noise of the passing crowd drowned half her 
 remarks, and, at that moment, a marshal backed his 
 horse near where she and Ike stood, with a command to 
 
208 A CEREOUS MATTER. 
 
 her to " stand back." It was astonishing how the flics, 
 or something, troubled that marshal's horse all the while 
 he stood there. 
 
 A CEREOUS MATTER. 
 
 i 
 
 " THERE was a cererous accident happened down here, 
 just now, aunt," said Ike, running in hastily. 
 
 " Dear me ! " cried Mrs. Partington, dropping her 
 knitting-work, and starting from her seat in great alarm ; 
 "what upon airth was it, Isaac? Was anylxxly killed, 
 or had their legs and limbs broke, or what? " 
 
 "0," replied he, giving his top a tremendous twirl, 
 that sent it round among the chairs at a great rate ; " 0, 
 no ! 't was only a man capsized a box of candles, that ? s 
 all." 
 
 The old lady looked at Isaac reproachfully. He will 
 break her heart one of these days. Her mind, at the 
 first alarm, had flown among her balsams, and bandages, 
 and lints, that had lain in obscurity since the poor boy 
 next door had cut his toe off; and to be thus lowered 
 down from her hope of usefulness was too bad. But Ike 
 went out with his top, laughing all the while, and the 
 old lady subsided into the old arm-chair, and went on 
 with her knitting. 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN REMEDIES CONTRASTED. 209 
 
 ANCIENT AND MODERN REMEDIES 
 CONTRASTED. 
 
 " THEY don't doctor folks now as my physician learnt 
 me t " said Mrs. Partington, sagely tapping her snuff-box 
 by the couch of a friend lying indisposed. Her gesture 
 was very expressive, and the profundity of a whole Mod. 
 Fac. beamed from her spectacles. She took a pinch of 
 Farwell's subtle Maccaboy in her fingers, and shut the 
 box, and laid it away in her capacious pocket, then, with 
 her closed forefinger and thumb raised, went on with her 
 remarks, " They don't subscribe for folks now as they 
 used to. My doctor used to tell me, and he never 
 lost any of his patience but once, and that was an old 
 man of ninety-seven, whose days were shortened because 
 he had n't strength to swallow, he used to tell me, 
 and I've been with him thousands of times with sick 
 folks, he used to tell me, first, said he, give 'em 
 apccac, to clear the stomach ; then give "em purgatory 
 to clear the bowels ; then put a blister on the neck if 
 the head aches ; and have 'em blooded if there is a ten 
 derness of the blood to the head; and put hot poultices 
 on to the feet, arter soaking ? em in hot water. There 
 wan't none of your Homerpathics, nor Hydropathics, nor 
 no other pathics then, and what was done might be sure 
 it would either kill or cure ! " 
 
 She inhaled the dust with great unction, and the 
 patient, who lay making squares and diamonds out of the 
 . 18* 
 
210 MR. SLOW IN THE MOON. 
 
 rases on the room-paper, i; thanked God and took cour 
 age/' as heartily as St. Paul did when he saw the three 
 taverns, that he had fallen upon times of more physical 
 mildness. 
 
 MR. SLOW IN THE 3IOOX. 
 
 MR. SLOW and Abimelech were out looking upon the 
 moon, as it gleamed above them in the sky. The moon, 
 as they gazed, passed behind a dark cloud, the edge of 
 which gleamed like silver. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " said Abimelech. 
 
 "Yes, my son," said Mr. Slow, solemnly, "that 
 'ere 's well got up. " Some people say they have brighter 
 moons in other places than our'n, but I say that 's all 
 moonshine. Look at it, 'Bimeleeh, as it hangs up there 
 now, as bright as a dollar, and don't you believe any of 
 the gammoning stories about its being a green cheese." 
 
 " But, father/' asked Abimelech, his son, "is n't the 
 story true about the man in the moon? " 
 
 " Certingly, my son, certingly," said Mr. Slow, look 
 ing down at him ; " that 's all true, that is, 'cause it 's in 
 the primer." 
 
 Abimelech was satisfied so was Mr. Slow. 
 
MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 211 
 
 MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 ERIIAPS he is in no wise differ 
 ent from everybody's little l>oy 
 I dare say he is no taller, 
 or thicker, or heavier, than ten 
 thousand other boys who have 
 had existence, and been the 
 idol of doting papas, and mam 
 mas, and maiden aunts. He 
 is not an original boy in a 
 single particular I don't 
 claim him as such ; he eats 
 very much the same way, and 
 very much the same food, as 
 
 other young gentlemen of his age sleeps the same, cries 
 the same, and makes up the same outrageous faces at 
 castor-oil. I don't care if he is n't different. But every 
 parent has a right, in fact he is bound, to think his boy 
 better than everybody's boy, by a law of nature that knows 
 no contravening will admit of none. If everybody 
 sees in the picture I draw of my boy a sketch of his own. 
 let him remember it is my boy still, and not flatter him 
 self that he has a prodigy that knows no equal. 
 
 My boy has the glory of more than a year of months 
 to brag of, three of which he has devoted to taking his 
 steps in the initiatory of locomotion, and excels in little 
 
212 MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 manoeuvres in engineering, of his own adoption, steering 
 warily among chairs and tables ; and, though frequently 
 broaching to and foundering under a press of eagerness in 
 circumnavigating the kitchen, he invariably comes up all 
 right, and forgets minor adversities in the grand triumph. 
 
 My boy is a living proof of the great truth of gravita 
 tion, as, when unlucky circumstance kicks him ou- of 
 bed or throws him from a chair, he invariably strkes the 
 floor; and my boy has had knocks enough on his head to 
 realize a faith with regard to his profumlity equal to 
 that of Captain Cuttle in the renowned Lunsby, for the 
 same reason. 
 
 My boy understands the moral of a whip. Thus 
 young, will he wield the rod in terror over the back of 
 shrinking sisterhood, nor eveu spare maternity in his 
 "experimental philosophy.' 7 
 
 My boy knows very well how to manage it when the 
 slop-pail is within reach, and nothing pleases him more 
 than a plentiful ablution in soap-suds or greasy dish 
 water. 
 
 My boy delights in experimenting in hydraulics, 
 now essaying to administer hydropathy by the dipper- 
 full to a healthy floor, now sousing stockings into the 
 water-bucket, and now putting the hair-brush into the 
 sink. 
 
 My boy fills his father's boots with incongruities that 
 do not belong there, and looks on gravely as the load is 
 shaken out, wondering, apparently, why his father don't 
 let it stay. 
 
 My boy watches his chance to pull a dish, or a cup, 
 or a saucer, no matter which, from the table ; he 
 
MY LITTLE BOY. 213 
 
 seems to have an antipathy against crockery, and vivid 
 visions of sundered pairs remind his father daily of the 
 havoc he has made in the once respectable "service," 
 here a white and there a blue, some cracked, noseless, 
 handleless, stare him in the face. 
 
 My boy despises all conventional rules, and unhecds 
 the suasion that would limit will ; republicanism speaks 
 through every act, independence in every "look, free 
 dom in every motion. 
 
 My boy is very decidedly partial to an ash-hole ; it is 
 a spot by him of all others to be craved ; he glories in 
 an ash-hole ; there ward his inclination ever points. 
 David of old, in his utmost woe, couldn't have gone 
 deeper into the ashes. A stove-pan is a good substitute 
 for the ash-hole ; there is a luxury in strewing the gritty 
 dust about a clean carpet, that is not to be overlooked, 
 and never is ; there is fun in hearing it crunch beneath 
 the feet of his mother, and fun, too, in filling his mouth 
 with the fragments. I have thought, from my boy's 
 predisposition to pick up gravel, that he required it to 
 aid digestion. . 
 
 My boy rejoices in a dirty face. No Mohawk chief, 
 in the pride of war-paint, could feel more magnificent 
 than my boy under an application of molasses, or any 
 thing, he is not particular ; and no Mohawk would 
 fight harder to prevent its being wiped off. 
 
 My boy takes to sugar very readily ; he was very 
 juick in taking to this; it seemed instinctive with him. 
 I have heard of people's having a sweet tooth, but I 
 verily believe the whole of my boy's he has but four 
 are all sweet. 
 
214 MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 My bey is all-exacting in his demands, demands 
 sure enough, as imperious as those of a prince ; ami his 
 brow frowns, and his little voice rings again, if his de 
 mands arc not complied with, principally confined, 
 however, to the matter of victuals. 
 
 My boy is everything that is affectionate ; a laugh and 
 kiss his morning and even sacrifice, and his bright black 
 eyes and rosy cheeks glowing in the sunlight of a happy 
 heart. His voice greets me as I come from labor, ami 
 his arms encircle my neck in a sweet embrace, and his 
 cheek reposes against mint in the fulness of childish 
 love, and then I feel that my little boy is better than 
 everybody's, and I can r t be made to begin to believe at 
 such times but that every body 'must think so. In short, 
 as Mr. Micawbcr might say, my boy is a trump card in 
 my domestic pack. 
 
MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 215 
 
 MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 Little Bo y," of whom it 
 was our delight and pride to 
 speak, is no more. His sweet 
 spirit has fled from the earth, 
 and left an aching void in our 
 heart, and an anguish which 
 will be hard to allay. The 
 music of his voice is stilled ; 
 the mild beaming of his eyes is 
 quenched in the darkness of 
 death ; his arms are no more 
 outstretched upon loving im 
 pulses, nor his step speedy in 
 
 affection's errands; the happiness of his smile will no 
 more impart its blest contagion to our own spirit, nor 
 the home places be made again pleasant by his bright 
 presence. 
 
 We were loth that he should depart. There were a 
 thousand ties that bound him to us. We could not con 
 ceive that a flower, so fair and full of promise, should 
 wither and die while within our grasp. We fancied that 
 we could hedge him round with our love, and that the 
 grim archer could not find access to our fold through the 
 diligence of our watchfulness. We had forgotten that 
 the brightest and fairest are oftenest the victims of inex- 
 
216 ; MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 oruble Death', and that the roseate robes of to-day's joy 
 may be usurped to-morrow by the sable drapery of afflic 
 tion. 
 
 There was much to endear him to us. Perhaps no 
 more, however, than every child possesses to a parent. 
 He was precocious to an extraordinary degree, and his 
 little life was full of childish manliness that made every 
 body love him who looked upon him. His kiss is still 
 warm upon our cheek, and his smile still bright in our 
 memory, replete with love and trust. We were sanguine 
 of a fruitful future for him, and we had associated him 
 with many schemes of happy usefulness in coming life, 
 and with foolish pride boasted of indications that promised 
 all we hoped. Alas ! how dark it seems now, as we 
 recall the dear little fellow in his dreamless rest He 
 was smiling as we laid him beneath the coffin-lid, as if 
 the spirit in parting had stamped its triumph, on the cold 
 lips, over the dominion of Death. 
 
 That " Little Boy" was our idol, and there were those 
 well-meaning people too who would expostulate, 
 and shake their heads gravely, and say that we loved him 
 too much ; as if such a thing were possible, where a 
 being of such qualities was making constant drafts upon 
 our affection. It is our greatest consolation that we 
 loved him so well, that there was no stint or limit to 
 the love we felt for him, that his happiness and our 
 own were so promoted by that affection, that it was almost 
 like the pangs of death to relinquish him to the grave. 
 
 It seems almost a sin to weep over the young and 
 beautiful dead; but it must be a colder philosophy than 
 ours to repress tears when bending over the lifeless form 
 
MY LITTLE BOY. 217 
 
 of a dear child. We may know that the pains of earth 
 are exchanged for the joys of heaven ; we may admit the 
 selfishness of our woe. that would interpose itself hctwecn 
 the dead and their happiness ; we may listen to and allow 
 the truth of gospel solaces, and cling to the hope of a 
 happy and endless meeting in regions beyond the grave ; 
 but what can fill the void which their dreary absence 
 makes in the circle which they blessed, where every 
 association tends to recall them? 
 
 Thus it seems when the heart is first bereft, when the 
 sorrow is new, and we sit down in our lone chamber to 
 think of it and brood over it. But we know that afflic 
 tion must become softened by time, or it would be 
 unbearable. And there are many reflections that the 
 mind draws from its own stores to yield after-comfort. 
 Memory forgets nothing of the departed but the woe of 
 separation, and every association connected with thtm 
 becomes pleasant and joyous. We see them, " with their 
 angel plumage on ; " we feel them around us upon view 
 less wings, filling our minds with good influences and 
 blessed recollections ; freed from the sorrows and tempta 
 tions and sins of earth, and, with a holier love, they are 
 still ministering to us. 
 
 It is one of the immunities of grief that it pour itself 
 out unchecked; and everybody who has a little boy like 
 this we have lost will readily excuse this fond and mourn 
 ful prolixity this justifiable lamentation. But 
 
 " We shall all go home to our Father's house 
 
 To our Father's house in the skies, 
 Where the hope of our souls shall have uo blight, 
 Our love no broken ties ; 
 
 19 
 
218 MY LITTLE BOY. 
 
 We shall roam on the banks of the River of Peace, 
 
 And bathe in its blissful tide ; 
 And one of the joys of our heaven shall be 
 
 The little boy that died.*' 
 
 'To talk of a man worth his millions giving a fcur 
 thousands of dollars in charity, is well enough," said 
 old Roger; t: he should be praised for it; but what is 
 his act compared with that of the poor woman who buys 
 a pint of oil from her own hard earnings, and carries it 
 in a broken-necked bottle to a sick neighbor, poorer than 
 herself, to cheer the gloomy hours of the night? What 
 is his act compared with hers, I should like to know 1 
 Not that !" ' 
 
 And he snapped his fingers, and felt sustained in his 
 high estimate of the poor woman's small donation. 
 
OS KEMEDIES. A NEW INSTRCMENT. 219 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON ON REMEDIES. 
 
 " THIS is an age of enervation in medicine, sure 
 enough ! " said Mrs. Partington, as she glanced at the 
 column of new and remarkable specifics; " why will 
 people run after metaphysics and them nostrums, when, 
 by taking some simple purgatory, they can get well so 
 soon ? It 's all nonsense, it is, and if people, instead 
 of dosing themselves with calumny and bitters, would 
 only take exercise and air a little more, and wash them 
 selves with care and a crash towel, they would be all the 
 better for it" 
 
 She said this on her own experience. As for "diet 
 drink," and summer beverages, Mrs. P. is very noted. 
 
 A NEW INSTRUMENT. 
 
 " WHEN is he going to bring on the wiolcen ? " whis 
 pered Mrs. Partington to a neighbor, at the Melodeon, 
 after listening through the first part of Ole Bull's con 
 cert. 
 
 " That 's it, ma'am, which he is now playing on." 
 
 " Why, that 's a fiddle, aVt it ? Good gracious ! 
 why can't they call things by thuir right names? " 
 
 And she left the hall, saying to the door-keeper, as 
 she passed, that it was only a fiddle after all. 
 
220 CRITI :ISM. 
 
 CRITICISM. 
 
 . A SMALL crowd gathered before a window, recently, 
 to admire the figure of a cat which was there as if for 
 public inspection. Nearly every one was delighted with 
 its likeness to life. 
 
 " But still," said Augustus, "there are faults in it; 
 it is far from perfect ; observe the defect in the fore 
 shortening of that paw, now ; and the expression of the 
 eye, too, ia bad ; besides, the mouth is too far down 
 under the chin, while the whiskers look as if they were 
 coming out of her ears. It is too short, too " but, as 
 if to obviate this defect, the figure stretched itself, and 
 rolled over in the sun. 
 
 " It is a cat, I vow ! " said a bystander. 
 
 "It is alive ! " shouted Ike, delightedly clapping his 
 hands. 
 
 "Why, it's only a cat, arter all," said Mrs. Part- 
 ington, as she surveyed it through her specs ; but Au 
 gustus moved on, disappointed that nature had fallen so 
 far short of his ideas of perfection in the manufacture of 
 cats. 
 
BLEAK HOUSE. ELOQUENCE. 221 
 
 BLEAK HOUSE. 
 
 " DICKENS is fast getting along to the denouncement 
 of the Bleak House/' said Mrs. Partington, as she saw 
 a paragraph mentioning the approaching denouement of 
 the story. " Well. I should think he would have 
 denounced it long ago, and had it prepared, for I don't 
 believe they could have made him pay one mill of rent 
 unless he did it at his own auction. Bleak House, in 
 deed; and Mr. Dickson a poor man, too, with aliments 
 enough on him to patternise a whole hospital himself!" 
 
 The picture of the Good Samaritan handing the wounded 
 Jew a quart bottle of Sarsaparilla Bitters attracted her 
 attention, and she delivered Ike a private lecture on the 
 humanities, while he sat pulling the cat's tail in the dark 
 side of the chimney-corner. 
 
 ADMIRATION FOR ELOQUENCE. 
 
 "DEAR me, how fluidly he does talk!" said Mrs. 
 Partington recently at a temperance lecture. " I am 
 always rejoiced when he mounts the nostril, for his elo 
 quence warms me in every nerve and cartridge of my 
 body. Verdigrcase itself could n't be more smooth than 
 his blessed tongue is ;" and she wiped her spectacles with 
 her cotton bandanna, and never took her eyes from the 
 speaker during tlie whole hour he was on the stand. 
 19* 
 
222 NAVES OF THE CRYSTAL PALACE. 
 
 NAVES OF THE CRYSTAL PALACE. 
 
 " WELL," said Mrs. Partington, as Ike read the para 
 graph from the Post that the decorators were at work 
 on the two naves of the Crystal Palace. She paused at 
 the li well " before she went further into it, and Ike 
 stopped reading to hear what she had to say, and chewed 
 up a part of the paper into spit-balls, which he amused 
 himself with by throwing at the old white-pine dresser in 
 the corner. " Well," said she, this is the same well we 
 left some time since, " I am glad they arc taking time 
 by the fire-lock and looking artcr the knaves aforehand. 
 Knaves in the Christian parish, indeed ! But they will 
 got in, tho best that can be done. There 's many a one, 
 I dessay, in all parishes that has a sanctuary in his face, 
 but with the cloak of Jiypocrisy in his heart. Read on, 
 Isaac." 
 
 And the old lady looked up at the black-framed 
 ancient picture of Susannah and the elders, and patted 
 her box reflectively. 
 
BISBEE'S CONFESSION. 223 
 
 MR. BISBEE'S CONFESSION.. 
 
 IT was a rash promise that I, Jeremiah Bisbee, had 
 made to the youngest Miss Tcel to gallant her to church. 
 I knew that she would be offended if I did not comply, 
 and yet how I felt f The previous evening's amusement 
 had extended well towards daylight, and a more misera 
 bly-feeling fellow than myself never did rouse himself at 
 the sound of breakfast-bell on a Sunday morning. But 
 the promise was made, and the glory of a new pair of 
 plaid pants and a red velvet vest was to blaze beside the 
 modest beauty of Miss Scraphiraa in the Rev. Mr. Blunt's 
 church. 
 
 I had no scat there, but my cousins, the Misses Tit- 
 marsh, who owned a pew in the broad aisle, had many 
 times invited me to sit with them, informing me that 
 there was plenty of room, and I determined to avail 
 myself of their invitation. The pew was a very respect 
 able one, I knew, as I had heard them many times 
 describe it as having heavy drapery, and all the other 
 essentials of genteel worship, just as they had inherited 
 it from the deacon, their uncle. I had heard them 
 describe, too, the occupants of adjacent pews, and had 
 been given to understand that the Ogglers and Spighs, 
 the aforesaid occupants, were the most respectable people 
 in town, and that they felt rather envious at the superior 
 position of " our " pew, for so the young ladies (forty- 
 seven if they were a day) called it. 
 
224 
 
 The day was bright, the pants fitted to a charm, the 
 red vest gleamed in" the sun, my coat was neatly brushed, 
 and, with an unexceptionable hat, and a pair of brilliant 
 boots, I felt myself to be " some." The sleepy feeling 
 with which the morning commenced, was overcome by 
 the momentary excitement of walking and talking with a 
 charming girl ; a triumph over Somnus that I thought 
 truly wonderful. 
 
 We reached the church, a large, venerable, sleepy 
 pile, having a good many pews in it,' the latter a charac 
 teristic, I believe, of churches generally. There was a 
 languor upon the still air of the old church that struck 
 me sleepily as I took my seat in tho spacious, high- 
 backed pew ; the monotonous toll of the bell sounded 
 like a lullaby, and the swelling notes of the ; big organ, 
 which rose like incense to the roof, and pervaded the 
 house, gave me a qualm that my boasted triumph outside 
 would not be of permanent duration, opposed to the 
 somnolent influences within. 
 
 As ill luck would have it, we had a very dull preacher, 
 a duller I never knew, trite and common-place, 
 without originality or fervor, and insufferably long. I 
 felt sleepy at the propounding of the text, which was, as 
 near as I remember, u Sleep on, arid take your rest ;' r 
 arid every wakeful feeling within me began to grow 
 heavy about the eyes at the injunction. I struggled 
 against slum!>er, as a man overboard would struggle with 
 the tide. My eyelids drooped in spite of me, and when 
 . I would open them they felt as if they were interlaced 
 with sticks, and my sleepy soul seemed looking through 
 a grating of wicker work. The eyes of my cousins, the 
 
MR. BISBEE'S CONFESSION. 225 
 
 Misses Tituiarsh, were wide open upon me, the bright 
 eyes of Seraphima were upon me, the eyes of the Ogglers 
 and Spighs were upon me, for the Misses Titmarsh had 
 informed me in a whisper that they were here in full 
 force, and tliat the new plaid pants, and the red vest, 
 and Seraphima's new bonnet, a charming thing, by the 
 way, would produce a tremendous envy among their 
 opponents in the adjacent pew. 
 
 In my sleepy reflections I saw the utter disgrace that 
 would attend upon my cousins, the Titmarshes, if I mis 
 behaved. I thought upon them, positively, more than 
 upon my own shame. I thought of the horror they 
 would feel were I to speak aloud, or laugh, or tumble 
 down, or commit any extra vagance in a dream. All of 
 the tricks I had ever practised in my sleep came up 
 before me, frightfully magnified. What if I should 
 practise some of them over again, or get up on the backs 
 of the pews and go round, as Amina foots it over the 
 tiles, in the opera ? 
 
 I struggled manfully with sleep, but I found I 
 couldn't hold out long. Ilum-m-m, hummed on that 
 long sermon! Upon my honor, I don't believe I heard 
 a word of it besides the text, unless it were the word 
 "sleep/* which seemed profusely scattered, like poppies, 
 along the tedious way. I found myself rapidly sinking. 
 The faces by which I was surrounded were melting away, 
 the Ogglers and the Spighs were becoming oblivious, 
 and the preacher, just taking the form of a huge black 
 beetle impaled on a pin, was humming a dull drone on 
 one continuous key, when, mustering resolution, I roused 
 myself, thrust my hand hastily into my pocket to pull 
 
226 MR. BISBEE'S CONFESSION'. 
 
 out my handkerchief, when, the Ogglers and Spighs 
 were all looking, and so were the Misses Titmarsh and 
 Seraph ima, when, I blush to say it, though it was 
 the means of my becoming a reformed man, and a toler 
 able member of society, and the father of a large family, 
 when I pulled my handkerchief out, a pack of cards, 
 a deposit of the previous night, came leaping out with it, 
 and, as if actuated by the devil who invented them, they 
 darted about in almost as many directions as there were 
 cards, brazenly showing themselves in the holy house, to 
 my utter confusion of face. 
 
 Had my worst enemy seen me then, he must have 
 pitied me. I was wide awake now. The concentrated 
 redness of every red card was painted upon my face, and 
 the blackness of every black one was transferred to my 
 heart. The spots on the cards, to my heated fancy, seemed 
 bigger than a cart-wheel. I heard a suppressed titter 
 among the Ogglers and the Spighs. Just then the eldest 
 Miss Titmarsh fainted. u Heaven be thanked for this ! " 
 says I; " here's an opening;" and, seizing the uncon 
 scious spinster, I made for the door as speedily as pos 
 sible. Placing her in charge of the sexton, I ran with 
 all haste for the doctor. Strange that those medical 
 gentlemen should be away at such a time ! I left an 
 urgent order on the slates of six of them, and was told 
 that five of the six, an hour afterwards, met in consulta 
 tion on the steps of Rev. Mr. Blunt' s church. 
 
 As I said before, I have now reformed, and sit just in 
 the shadow of life's afternoon, looking back over the 
 events of its morning, rejoicing with hopeful trust that 
 tho errors qf ypijth may not be carried forward to the 
 
GERMANIA BAND. 227 
 
 account of mature age, if repentance make atonement for 
 the past. The Misses Titmarsh forgave ine, and Sera- 
 phima, in a long life of devoted attention on iny part, lias 
 quite forgot that Sunday's mortification. 
 
 t 
 
 GERMANIA BAND, 
 
 "How do you like the music, Mrs. P. ? " asked her 
 neighbor of the old lady, as she stood listening to the 
 Germania band, one evening on the common, and beat 
 ing time on the cover of her snuff-box. 
 
 "Beautiful!" replied she, enraptured, " oncommon 
 beautiful ! It seems almost like the music of the syrups. 
 I think the Geranium band the sweetest of any of 'em. 
 Can you tell me," said she, in a big whisper, "which 
 is Mr. Bcrgamot? " 
 
 The name of Bergamot was associated with her rappee 
 and hence her solicitude. 
 
 She was told that Mr. Bergman belonged to the 
 Germania Society, and that the leader of the Germania 
 Serenade rs was Mr. Schnapp. 
 
 A smile lit up her face, revealed in the declining 
 twilight, as she asked if he was akin to Mr. Aromatic 
 Schnapps, the gentleman that imported so much gin. 
 Her ear was arrested by the strains of the music, and 
 the black bonnet waved in unison with a waltzing meas 
 ure, as Isaac sat upon the grass in contemplation of a 
 dog's tail before him, wondering what the effect would 
 be if he should stick a pin in it. 
 
A GOOD SUGGESTION. 
 
 A GOOD SUGGESTION. 
 
 ESSRS. CHANG and ENO 
 those^interesting ex 
 otics, from whose land 
 all the golden fountains 
 and talking lauras, and 
 singing trees that graced 
 our juvenile literature 
 were derived were 
 much gratified by an in 
 troduction to Mrs. Part- 
 ington. one of whom 
 assured her that he had 
 heard of her in Siani 
 
 many years ago, but the other did n't recollect about it. 
 On informing her of their intention to go to Saratoga or 
 Newport the coining summer, the old dame wondered at 
 the determination. 
 
 u How crowded you will be ! " said she, " accommo 
 dations are so scarce; though, I dare say, you could, 
 upon a 'mergcncy, both sleep in one bed." 
 
 The suggestion was a happy one all the difficulty 
 was removed in an instant and the dual gentleman 
 smiled a thankee with his four lips, and Mrs. Partington 
 waved a parting benediction to him with her green cotton 
 umbrella, as he disappeared in the crowd. 
 
CATCHING AN OMNIBUS. 229 
 
 CATCHING AN OMNIBUS. 
 
 " IF you want to take a 'bus," said Mr. Sphynx, in 
 his oracular manner, "you must be 'mazing sly; you 
 must n r t go boldly up to 'em, 'cause they : 11 certingly 
 be full, room for twelve, and seventeen inside, or the 
 driver won't see you, if you shake your umbrel or cane 
 at him never so much. 'Buses are queer critters very 
 queer ; it takes sunthing of a man to understand their 
 natur. When you want one, there a'n't one coming. 
 Put your head out in the rain, and look every which 
 way, you can't see hide nor hair of one. Wait till the 
 next one comes that 's full ; so 's the next. Then you 
 get a little mifFd, and says you, ' I ? 11 walk!' Start 
 in the rain get wet ; when you get almost where you 
 want to go, ? long comes one of T em, like blazes lots 
 of room looking at you as much as to say, i See here, 
 old boy f don't you wish you 'd ha' waited ? ' and whisks 
 by like a racer. If you see a 'bus a little ways ahead, 
 and run yourself into a fever to catch it, two to one it '11 
 be the wrong 'bus, and you '11 have to walk, artcr all. 
 Now the way to do is this: Act jest as if you don't 
 care a snap whether you ride or not. Be indifferent, 
 and one '11 come right along; don't be uneasy 'bout 
 getting a seat, and there *11 be plenty of room ; conclude 
 that you r li walk, and you may have a whole "bus to 
 yourself. That *s the way to come it over 'em ! " Say 
 ing which, and shaking his head profoundly, Mr. Sphynx 
 retired. 
 
 
 
230 1KB IN A NEW POSITION. 
 
 IKE IN A NEW POSITION. 
 
 IKE got a situation to blow an organ in town, and one 
 Sunday a stranger organist took it into his head that ho 
 would try the instrument a little after the congregation 
 was dismissed. He expressed his desire to the boy, who 
 consented to blow ; for there a v c few more obliging boys 
 than Ike when he is well used. lie pumped away vig 
 orously for some time, until his arm ached, when, peep 
 ing round the corner of the organ, he asked if ho might 
 now go. 
 
 "No!" said the organist, curtly, and kept on, 
 drumming away among the dainty airs that he was 
 taking upon himself, now thundering among the bass 
 notes, and now glancing playfully amid the tender trills 
 of the pianissimos, when, confusion to a fugue com 
 menced, the breath of the organ gave out, and the music 
 flattened to a dying and dismal squeal. 
 
 "Holloa!" cried the performer, "don't get asleep 
 there blow away ! " 
 
 But no response attended his command. He grew red. 
 
 " Blow away, I say ! " he cried, louder. 
 
 Still no response. 
 
 Angrily and inhannoniously the man of music arose 
 and looked for Ike. He was not there, and the mad man 
 of melody, as he glanced from the window, caught a dis 
 tant view of a pair of juvenile coat-tails as they disap 
 peared round a corner. 
 
UNPOPULAR DOCTRINE. 281 
 
 UNPOPULAR DOCTRINE: 
 
 "I WAS surprised, Mr. Roger, to see you speaking 
 with that creature" said Miss Prim, significantly em 
 phasizing the word. 
 
 " Why, madam? " asked the old man. 
 
 " Because she is a low, vile creature of the town," 
 said she, waspily. 
 
 He took her hand within his own, and looked her 
 calmly in the eye, as he replied : " Call her not vile ; 
 call her miserable, rather; and as such she is more worthy 
 of your regard and pity ; for, though she may have sadly 
 erred, she still is not all depraved ; that old spark of 
 sympathy in her heart is there yet unquenched. I have 
 seen her not long since watch by the sick, work for the 
 needy, and give her money for their relief; take her own 
 bread and give it to a poor felon in prison, and comfort 
 a little child in its sinless sorrow ; I have seen this, 
 and, bad as you think she is, / can honor her for her 
 virtues. My dear madam, gain her good qualities, and 
 add them to your own perfections, before presuming to 
 sit in judgment on her bad ones. Besides, do you know 
 what temptation is, ma'am ; were you ever tempted ? " 
 
 The frosty look which met his own seemed to render 
 such a question unnecessary, and he released her hand, 
 gently advising her to exercise more of charity in her 
 estimate of character. 
 
232 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 PHILANTHROPOS, the day after the great Railroad 
 Jubilee, appeared in public with two excessively black 
 eyes. It seems that he was going by one of our prin 
 cipal hotels, when a large delegation arrived from out of 
 town, and hearing the remark, ." All full," his heart was 
 touched, and, mounting upon a post, he asked the crowd 
 if they would n't like to have a nice house to stop at, 
 ^here every man could have a room to himself, and 
 every accommodation he could desire. The response was 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well," said the good man, w;ith emotion, " well, if 
 I hear of any such I will let you know." 
 
 The people were strangers, and did not understand 
 the benevolence of his intentions, and one or two of them 
 expressed their disapprobation in a striking manner, 
 which marred the good man's pleasant exterior, as above 
 described. 
 
 On the day of the above celebration, a large loco 
 motive was brought to a standstill in Washington street, 
 in consequence of one of the wheels giving out belonging 
 to the car it was on. PHILANTHROPOS, with an eye 
 always to the interests of the mechanic, seeing the danger 
 to which the engine was exposed, walked sentry round 
 it all night to prevent the boys from running away with 
 it. It was an act for which he should have been honored : 
 but the workmen called him an ass for his pains, when 
 
MYSTERIOUS ACTION OF RATS. 233 
 
 they came the next morning to take it away. His 
 indignation for a moment was awakened ; despair suc 
 ceeded of ever being able to benefit his race ; when a 
 small voice whispered to his conscience: "Will you 
 abandon an eternal principle because crude humanity 
 fails to appreciate your efforts ? " and he responded 
 promptly to the question, and turned away in search of 
 hew objects for the exercise of his benevolence. 
 
 MYSTERIOUS ACTION OF RATS. 
 
 " As for the rats," said Mrs. Partington, as she missed 
 several slices of cake, the disappearance of which she 
 imputed to them, "it a' n't no use to try to get rid of 
 'em. They rather like the vermin anecdote, and even 
 chlorosive supplement they don't make up a face at. It 
 must be the rats," continued she, thoughtfully, and took 
 a large thumb and forefinger full of rappee to help her 
 deliberation, "it can't be Isaac that took the cake, 
 because he is a perfect prodigal of virtue, and would n't 
 deceive me so, for, I might leave a house full of bread 
 with him and he would n't touch it." 
 
 Ike sat there demurely, with his right foot upon his 
 left knee, thinking what a capital sunglass one eye of the 
 old lady's specs would make, while a trace of crumbs 
 was visible about his mouth. It is feared that not even 
 chlorosive supplement, nor anything weaker than a pad- 
 look, will save Mrs. Partington's cake. 
 
 20* 
 
234 MRS. P. ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 MRS. P. ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 "WHEN will the Father of Waters come along?" 
 asked Mrs. Partington, as she sat looking at a panorama 
 of the Mississippi, in the last hours of its exhibition. 
 
 "The Father of Waters !" replied the individual 
 addressed, " why, this is it that you are seeing before 
 you." 
 
 "Goodness me! is it?" said she, "why, I've di 
 gested my specs to look arter a big man with the dropsy, 
 and it's nothing but a river, arter all. How I wish 
 they 'd call things by their proper names ! " 
 
 There was something of disappointment in her tone ; 
 but when afterwards she remarked to herself " I wonder 
 if that water will wash?" it was a beautiful tribute from 
 Benevolence to Genius. 
 
 "ENTERED at the Custom House?" said Mrs. Part 
 ington, pondering on the expression ; " I don't see how 
 the vessels ever got in; but I am glad that the collector 
 cleared 'em right out again. It will learn them better 
 manners next time, I think." 
 
PROVISIONS OP THE CONSTITUTION. 235 
 
 PROVISIONS OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 " PROVISIONS of the Constitution ! " said Mrs. Part- 
 ington, with an earnest air and tone ; " for my part I 
 should be glad to see 'em. Heaven and all of us knows 
 provisions is scarce enough and dear enough, and if they 
 can turn the Constitution to so good a use I 'm glud of 
 it. Anything that will have a tenderness to cheapen the 
 necessities of life," and here she laid her finger on the 
 cover of her box, and looked earnestly at a cracked 
 sugar-bowl in the "buffet" in the corner, containing the 
 onion-seeds, and the bone-buttons, and the scarlet beans, 
 and the pieces of twine, long-gathered from accumulative 
 paper tea-bags, "I am agreeable to it, and if they can 
 turn the Constitution and all the ships of war to carrying 
 provisions, I am shore they will do more good than they 
 do now a good many of T em." 
 
 She here ran down like an eight day clock, and she 
 smiled as Ike rushed in with his arms full of votes, and 
 his face full of fun and molasses candy, and asked her if 
 he should n't give her a " tig whickct." 
 
236 SEVERE, BUT JUST. MRS. P. AND PIETY. 
 
 SEVERE, BUT JUST. 
 
 4 DOLLY PRIM a spinster, indeed ! " said Mrs. Part- 
 inton, as .she heard her unmarried neighbor in the back 
 parlor termed thus. " 1 should like to know what upon 
 airth she spins but street-yarn ; for she 's gadding from 
 morning to night. The wheel she spins on would be 
 harder to find, a great deal, than the fifth wheel of a 
 coach ! " 
 
 ! she could be severe, could Mrs. Partington ; but 
 there was generally a commingling of the bitter and 
 sweet, the wormwood and molasses, in her rebukes, that 
 tempered acidity, and made reproof wholesome. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AND PIETY. 
 
 DEACON SNARL, in exhortation, would often allude to 
 the u place where prayer is ; wonted* to be made." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mrs. Partington to herself, " there 'a 
 nothing like humility in a Christian. I r m glad you 
 confess it. I don't know a place under the canister of 
 heaven where prayer is wanted more to be made than 
 here, and I hope you '11 be forgiven for the rancorous 
 butter you sold me yesterday." 
 
 She was a simple-minded woman, was Mrs. P., and 
 was apt to get the world mixed up with her devotion : 
 believing, somehow, that Christian duty prescribed 
 worldly justice. She had n't been long a member. 
 
JiRlCKS AND STRAW. MEDALLIC PROSPECTS. 237 
 
 BRICKS AND STJIAW. 
 
 DR. DIGG has discovered a striking analogy between 
 the brickmaking operations of the Israelites in Egypt and 
 those of the present day. In the first instance straw was 
 required in the manufacture of a perfect brick ; in the 
 latter straw is an essential thing, as is shown in the 
 imbibation of juleps, an element in the manufacture of 
 modern bricks, where straw is invariably used. The 
 Doctor asks when Egypt was like a dry lemon. Pre 
 suming the answer will not be forthcoming, he says, 
 " After the Jews were all out of it." It is supposed he 
 means juice. 
 
 MEDALLIC PROSPECTS. 
 
 " I DON'T see," said Mrs. Partington, as Ike camo 
 home from the examination, and threw his books into 
 one chair, and his jacket in another, and his cap on tho 
 floor, saying that he didn't get the medal, U I don't 
 see why you did h't get the medal, for, certainly, a more 
 meddlesome boy I never Jcnew. But never mind, dear ; 
 when the time comes round again you'll get it." 
 
 What hope there was in her remark for him ! and he 
 took courage and one of the old lady's doughnuts, and 
 sat wiping his feet on a clean stocking, that the dame 
 was preparing to darn, that lay by her side. 
 
288 MRS. PARTINQTON BEATING UP. 
 
 MRS. PARTJNGTON BEATING UP. 
 
 "THERE'S poor Hardy Lee called again/' said Mrs. 
 Partington on a trip from Cape Cod to Boston. The 
 wind was ahead, and the vessel had to beat up, and the 
 order to put the helm " hard a lee" had been heard 
 through the night. " Hardy Lee, again ! I declare I 
 should think the poor creetur would be completely exas 
 perated with fatigue; and I'm certain he has n't eat a 
 blessed mouthful of anything all the while. Captain, do 
 call the poor cretur down, or Natur can't stand it." 
 
 There was a tremor in her voice as indignant humanity 
 found utterance. " It a'n't Christian it is more like 
 the treatment of Hottenpots or heathen ! " 
 
 The captain went on deck, and a sudden lurch of the 
 vessel sent the old lady on her beam-ends among some 
 boxes, recovering from which forgetfulness of " Hardy 
 Lee" ensued, and this tack brought her to the wharf. 
 
A DEAD SHOT. SHOCKING JOKE. 239 
 
 A DEAD SHOT. 
 
 " How do you feel with such a shocking-looking coat 
 on? " said a young clerk, of more pretension than brains, 
 one morning. 
 
 " I feel," said old Roger, looking at him steadily, with 
 one eye half closed, as if taking aim at his victim,."! 
 feel, young man, as if I had a coat on which has been 
 paid for, a luxury of feeling which I think you will never 
 experience ;" and then he quietly resumed the reading 
 of the Post, and the young clerk made no further remark 
 on the subject. 
 
 SHOCKING JOKE. 
 
 " I SEE," said old Roger to a farmer topping corn, 
 " that to one branch of your industry you are its worst 
 enemy." 
 
 "Why?" asked the farmer. 
 
 "Because," replied he, "you are always raising 
 shocks for the corn-market." 
 
 " Yes," quietly replied the fanner, " but the market 
 is always saying, ' lend us your ears. 7 " 
 
 Old Roger and the farmer smiled at each other as they 
 parted. 
 
240 
 
 RIDING 
 
 HAT a vast improvement has been made 
 upon the old methods and means of 
 travelling, even within the memory oi 
 the youngest of us! Recall the old 
 staging system a moment to mind, when a day's ride was 
 agony in its anticipation, not to be dispelled by the stern 
 reality, over roads scarce redeemed from primeval rough 
 ness, which the jolly tongue of the red-faced driver 
 provided you were lucky enough to get on the box 
 with him was hardly capable of enlivening. What 
 apprehension did timid insiders feel of threatening wreck 
 at the bottom of the steep hills they rattled down ! How 
 fearful they would be of never reaching the top of the 
 next hill, from the miserable horses giving out that were 
 attached to the vehicle ! How they trembled at the 
 danger of having their brains knocked out against the 
 roof of the low coach, in the rebound that anon jerked them 
 from their seats as the stage-wheel sunk into a cart-rut ! 
 
RIDING. 241 
 
 For this latter alarm there was considerable cause, to 
 judge by a story told us once by one of the professors 
 of the whip. He was riding, he said, one day over the 
 way we were then travelling, in a terrible bad season of 
 the year, when the cart-wheels had cut the roads up into 
 hideous gullies, into which the wheels would plunge, to 
 the danger of all who chose to ride ; and often the pas 
 sengers had to get out and lay their shoulders to the 
 work to assist the horses in their exertions to extricate 
 the vehicle from the mud. The day he spoke of, how 
 ever, he had but one passenger, an elderly gentleman, 
 wearing a wig, and, feeling his responsibility lessened by 
 his diminished fare, he took less heed as to where he went, 
 and dashed along over the road, whistling from absence 
 of care, entirely regardless of horses or passenger, deter 
 mined to achieve the distance to the next stopping- place 
 in a time mentally allotted for its performance. It was one 
 of the old-fashioned low-roofed coaches, one of the oldest of 
 its class. A sudden cry from a child who was passing 
 caused him to look round, and there to his horror he 
 saw the old gentleman's bald head glistening in the sun's 
 lays like a mammoth mushroom, his eyes glaring on him 
 wildly, and his mouth vainly endeavoring to articulate. 
 It was but an instant before he was extricated from his 
 perilous situation. In one of the sudden lurches of the 
 road he had been forced up through the canvass roof, 
 and this closing around his neck held him there, incapa 
 ble of helping himself, and he had ridden many miles in 
 this manner before he was discovered. 
 
 " That story "s just as true, now, as I loll it to you, 7 ' 
 riaid tho driver. 
 
 21 
 
242 MRS. PAIVTINGTOy LOOKING OUT. 
 
 " Don't doubt it," we replied; "but what became of 
 the hat and wig?" 
 
 " I can't say anything about the hat, but I 'm very 
 much mistaken if I did n't see that old wig, for three 
 seasons, used as a genteel residence for a fainily of crows 
 down the road here." 
 
 A very singular story, we thought, and think so 
 still. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGT0N LOOKING OUT. 
 
 "I CAN'T make it out," said Mrs. Partington one 
 morning, when she first moved to the city, after the 
 railroad ploughshare had upturned her hearth-stone. 
 " I can't make it out ;" and she re.-ched further out of 
 the window, to the imminent danger of the "embargo*' 
 returning again to her head, or of a somerset into the 
 street below. She had caught the sound u Here 's had- 
 dick ! " from stentorian lungs under her window, and she 
 could not make out what t!>c sounds meant. 
 
 "I wish I knowcd what the poor critter was crying 
 about, but I thought he said he had a sick headache ; 
 and I declare I pity the poor soul that has got such a 
 distressing melody as that." 
 
 She drew in her head, like a clam, and shut down the 
 window, to keep out the sounds of a misery she couM 
 not relieve. 
 
FORESEEING THINGS BEFOREHAND. 243 
 
 FORESEEING THINGS BEFOREHAND. 
 
 "I WONDER who is coming here to-day?" said Mrs. 
 Partington, at the breakfast table, turning her cups and 
 working the tea-grounds to their oracular position. It 
 was the 4th of July, and a procession was advertised to 
 pass her door. " I wonder who is coming here to-day 7 
 Here's a horse, and a wheelbarrow, and a tub; and 
 there 's a big G and a cipher ; and here r s a flock of geese 
 and a cow. The cow and the geese must mean the 
 procession, that 's clear ; but what can the big G stand 
 for, and the rest of 'em ? It must mean our seventh 
 cousin, Mrs. Tubbs ; and it is so kind of her to remem 
 ber her poor relations at such times, as she always does. 
 Yes, it must be her, 'cause there 's a tub^ and the wheel 
 barrow must run for an omnibus; but what can the 
 cipher be? I guess, though, that don't mean anything. 
 Scour up the German silver spoons, Margaret ; we must 
 be hospitable. I dare say she would be to us if she should 
 ever ask us, and we should go." 
 
 The prediction was fulfilled, and tho fat lady occu 
 pied the front seat in Mrs. Partington's private box. 
 
244 A SINUOSITY. 
 
 A SINTTOSITY. 
 
 OLD ROGER was seated at the dinner- table by tbe side 
 of Seraphima, the youngest of the five marriageable 
 daughters. The conversation turned upon conundrums 
 and queer comparisons. The old fellow leaned back iu 
 his chair, and, wiping the traces of soup from his mouth, 
 said, as he took the young lady's hand in his own, u See 
 this fair hand, now, white as a snow-flake, and rich with 
 dimpled beauties ! " Seraphima smiled. " Who is there 
 among you that can tell me why this sweet hand is like 
 the remains of that c hock-shin ' soup before us all 1 " 
 
 The hand was drawn back suddenly, that fair hand, 
 compared with a vile pile of beef sinews ! The board 
 ers were astonished at his audaciousness, Seraphima 
 frowned. 
 
 " You can't guess, can you?' 7 said the jolly old fel 
 low. "Well," continued he, " it is because there is such 
 tendonncss in it." 
 
 He pronounced it " tenderness," and Seraphima smiled 
 again ; but the boarders, who had found the meat rather 
 hard, did n't see the relevancy of it, they did n ? t know 
 what tendon meant, no more 'n a cow knows about its 
 grandmother. 
 
THE SCIENCE OF FISH. ' 245 
 
 THE SCIENCE OF FISH. 
 
 " I WONDER what this c itch theology ' is," said Mrs. 
 Partington, giving a somewhat novel pronunciation of the 
 old science, as site read the announcement of the lecture 
 by Professor Agassiz; u what in the name of Old Scratch 
 can it be * I suppose it must mean the itch for meddling 
 with politics and things that docs n't concern 'em, and 
 running down their own country and relations, and prais 
 ing up everybody else, and at war with everything, all 
 the time they are preaching peace." 
 
 Some one explained that it was the science of fishes. 
 
 "Well, well," said the lady, " it's just as well; for 
 a minister preaching polities is like a fish out of water 
 he is out of his ailment." 
 
 She passed over to the deaths and marriages, and Ike 
 ganged his hook, with an afternoon's smelting in his eye, 
 and a ball of Mrs. Fartington's piping-cord in his pocket 
 for contingencies. 
 
 21* 
 
246 ETERNAL INDEBTEDNESS. NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 ETERNAL INDEBTEDNESS. 
 
 " WHEN I lent her the eggs," said Mrs. Partington. 
 " she said she would be eternally indebted to me, and I 
 guess she will. How can people do so ? I would go 
 round the world on all-fours a begging before I would be 
 guilty of such a thing. Ah, well, it takes everybody to 
 make a world!" 
 
 And she put in saleratus enough to make up for the 
 non-returned eggs; her neighbor had decidedly taken 
 a rise out of her. 
 
 BORROWING NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 " SHALL I have the goodness to look at your news 
 paper one moment'. 1 " asked Mrs. Partington at the grocery 
 store. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear madam, with the greatest reluct 
 ance possible," replied the grocer. 
 
 They exchanged glances, and there was so much of 
 thankfulness in her eye that he almost made up his mind 
 to subscribe for another paper for her express accommo 
 dation. 
 
PROMISING CHILDREN. 247 
 
 PROMISING CHILDREN. 
 
 " WHAT a to-do people make because children happen 
 to know something when they are young ! " said Mrs, 
 Partington, as she read . an account of many men who 
 had been distinguished in early years. " Now, all these 
 together don't know so much, by one half, as Dolly 
 Sprigg's baby. That is a perfect prodigal, to be sure; 
 sich an intellect ? Why, it got through its goo-googles. 
 and into its bar-bars, afore it was seven months old, and 
 when it was only a year and a half old it emptied a 
 snuff-box down its precious old grandmother's throat as 
 she was asleep, and came nigh suffocating the old lady 
 afore she could wako up to conscientiousness and spit it 
 out. There never was sich another, its mother says, 
 and who knows so well as a mother what a child is, that 
 has watched over it, and seen it expand itself like a tansy 
 blossom, and sweet as a young cauliflower ? " 
 
 The old lady was always eloquent on this topic ; she 
 was a believer in prodigies, and thought Solomon must 
 have consulted some young mother when he wrote that 
 4 'every generation grows wiser and wiser." 
 
248 FORGIVENESS OF WRONG. 
 
 FORGIVENESS OF WRONG. 
 i 
 
 " HE called me a termagrunt, and said I was n't any 
 better than I should be," said '.' frs. Partington, as she 
 threw her shawl into the water-bucket, and her bonnet 
 on the floor, on her return from her landlord's, where 
 she had vainly sought an extension of time for payment 
 of the rent ; " there never was such an aspiration cast 
 upon one of our family before; there is.no such thing in 
 our whole craniology ; and, if there is any statuary or 
 law for slander, I '11 see if he can prove it. The tcr ma- 
 grunt I don't mind so much : but to be called no better 
 than I should be the mean, penny-catching curmudgin ! 
 But no, it 's wrong to call him names; it makes me most 
 as bad as he is; I 11 borrow the money and pay him, I 
 will, and show him that I don't bear mallets :" and she 
 brightened up in the thought of this mode of revenge, 
 bustling about and putting the house to rights in the 
 best humor in the world. Her conduct was a sermon 
 and seven tracts on the sublime principle of forgiveness 
 of wrong. 
 
 WHAT kin is that which all Yankees love to recognize, 
 and which always has sweet associations connected with 
 it? Why pump-kin, to be sure. 
 
A NEGATIVE AFFIRMATIVE. 249 
 
 A NEGATIVE AFFIRMATIVE. 
 
 MR. TlMMS, a farmer up in the country, had a habit 
 of putting in " Yes yes, yes yes," at every pause in his 
 speaking, which sometimes had a ludicrous effect. The 
 old fellow owned a fine horse, which he was very careful 
 of, and would never lend or hire him to the most partic 
 ular of his friends. A youngster of the village, who 
 wished the horse for a Sunday ride, went over to the 
 old man's house, to hire the animal, if possible. 
 
 " So, you want my horse, young man? yes yes, yes 
 yes," said Timms; "and you say you'll ride him 
 gently? yes yes, yes yes; and you'll give him plenty 
 of oats? yes yes, yes yes; and rub him down well 
 when you get where you are going? yes yes, yes yes; 
 and will give me a dollar for the use of him ? yes yes, 
 yes yes. Well, upon the whole, you can't have him, 
 yes yes, yes yes." 
 
 The ^uung man left sorrowing. 
 
 WE see it stated in the prints, frequently, that vessels 
 going to California double Cape Horn. If this is the 
 case, by-and-by there will not be a single Cape Horn 
 left. 
 
250 TAKING PICTURES. 
 
 TAKING PICTURES. 
 
 " THAT is a splendid likeness, by Heaven ! " exclaimed 
 Augustus, rapturously, as Mrs. Partington showed him 
 a capital daguerreotype of her own venerable frontis 
 piece. 
 
 " No, it isn't/' said she, smiling; "no. it isn't by 
 Heaven itself, but by its sun ; is n't it beautifully done 1 
 All the cemetery of the features, and cap-strings, and 
 specs, is brought out as nateral as if from a painter's 
 palate. Any young lady, now," continued, she " who 
 would like to have the liniments of her pretended hus 
 band to look at when he is away, could be made happy 
 by this blessed and cheap contrivance of making pictures 
 out of sunshine." 
 
 She clasped -the cover of the picture, paused as if pur 
 suing in her own mind the train of her admiration, and 
 went out like an exploded rocket. 
 
 " MAS id born to work ; and he must work while it is day." 
 
 11 Have I not, 77 said a great worker, "all eternity to 
 work in?" 
 
 " Well, 77 said Slug, who didn't love work, "if that's 
 the case, what 7 n time 's the use of putting in so ? 1 7 d 
 jist as lieves divide the work, and do part of mine when 
 that cove's resting. 77 
 
PRECOCITY. 251- 
 
 PRECOCITY. 
 
 THE elder Smith was somewhat astonished one evening 
 at finding a berry pie for tea, a rather remarkable 
 thing in his gastronomical experience, for Mr. Smith 
 indulged in few luxuries, for reasons which will be un 
 derstood by people of limited means. It was an excellent 
 pie, the chef (Tceuvrc of the culinary skill of Mrs. Smith, 
 who prided herself upon what she could do if she only 
 had the " gredienues." Smith junior, numbering some 
 three summers, sat opposite his sire. 
 
 " My son," said the old 'un, during a pause in the 
 work of mastication, "did your mother make this pie 
 to-day ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said the precocious youth ; " she did n't, 
 of course, make it to-morrow ! " 
 
 The elder Smith looked mournfully at the miniature 
 edition of himself, then, wiping the crumbs from his 
 mouth, and ejaculating " So young ! " he left the 
 house. 
 
252 
 
 MR. THIMBLE 3 MOUSE-TRA 1 
 
 MR. THIMBLE'S MOUSE-TRAP. 
 
 [HE old gentleman one 
 morning discovered a 
 mouse in his bed 
 chamber. A mouse 
 or a rat was what he 
 held in the utmost 
 dread, and even the 
 idea of getting his 
 hand on one by any 
 accident, always gave 
 him a tremor. Seeing 
 the little animal thus 
 in his vc*y bed-cham 
 ber was most provoking, and, reaching for an oaken cane 
 always at the head of his bed. a defence against hostile 
 invaders of this '-inner shrine/' he at once vowed the 
 mouse's destruction, and, cane in hand, started upon its 
 accomplishment. 
 
 "Ha ! " said he, between his fixed teeth, as he closed 
 the door and firmly grasped his stick ; " now, Mr. Mouse, 
 I've got you I'll fix your flint for you!" and the 
 poor little timid thing running into a corner, the old gen 
 tleman levelled a furious blow at him, repeating his threat 
 to fix his flint for him. 
 
 This offer to fix the flint of the mouse is hardly intel- 
 
MR. THIMBLE'S MOUSE-TRAP. 253 
 
 ligible in this age of patent matches ; but Mr. Thimble 
 lived in tinder-box times, when flint and steel were insep 
 arable, and he probably thought that an animal so inclined 
 to steal must have a flint. 
 
 The blow was wrongly directed, and the mouse escaped 
 to another corner. 
 
 Another blow, and another, resulted in the same man 
 ner; until at last the mouse finding cover beneath an 
 antique bureau, the old gentleman was -compelled to exert 
 all his generalship to bring him out. 
 
 But in vain he got down on all-fours and looked be 
 neath the bureau; in voin was the cane thrust in the 
 direction of his eyes ; the enemy was nowhere to be seen, 
 and Mr. T. got up, flushed with the exercise, brushed his 
 knees, and went down to breakfast, wondering where the 
 little animal had gone. 
 
 After relating the incident, he was calmly engaged in 
 cooling his coffee, when, dropping his cup, he darted 
 from the table into' the middle of the floor, dragged half 
 the breakfast things after him, and practised antics very 
 unbecoming in an elderly gentleman of sixty-two. 
 
 His family, astonished to sec him thus, had incipient 
 ideas of lunatic asylums and strait jackets dart across 
 their minds the old gentleman the while capering about 
 the room like a mad dancing-master, shaking his right 
 leg as if St. Vitus had selected this member for his par 
 ticular favor, regardless of the rest, until, with a tremen 
 dous spasmodic kick, out fell the mouse from where he 
 had secreted himself! 
 
 It was long before Mr. T. regained composure. 
 22 
 
254 MRS. PARTINGTON VS. COOK-BOOK. 
 
 Some time after, speaking of his activity, Mrs. Thim 
 ble remarked, 
 
 " My dear, I didn't think it was in you." 
 Mr. T. looked queerly at her, as she uttered this, but 
 did n't say anything. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON vs. COOK-BOOKS. 
 
 " A BEEFSTEAK fried in water," said Mrs. Partington, 
 " it seems to me, must taste very much as if it was biled. 
 They do have such curious idees about cooking now-a- 
 days ! And people has to learn lots of outlandish names 
 before they know what they 've got for dinner. Ah ! 
 the good old times was the best, when people seasoned 
 their dishes with flag-root and such spices, and a poor 
 man's fragile repast was eaten when he knew what he 
 had to be thankful for." 
 
 What a cook she is, to be sure ! And is n't it the 
 cause of rejoicing for a week among the boys in the 
 neighborhood when she fries up a batch of doughnuts, 
 and Ike knows where they are kept ? No wonder she 
 thought, as she said, that he ate like Pharaoh's lean 
 kind, that .eat up the fat of the land of Egypt. 
 
ON ELOCUTION. 255 
 
 ON ELOCUTION. 
 
 " 0, DOES N'T he disclaim fluidly ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Partington, delightedly, as she listened to the exercises 
 of the Humtown Intellectual Mutual Improvement Society. 
 Her admiration knew no bounds as a young dcclaimcr, 
 with inspiration truly Demosthenic, launched the flashing 
 beams of his eloquence broadcast among his auditors, 
 with thrilling, dazzling, burning force; anon soaring 
 like a rocket into the t; empyrean blue/' dashing belter 
 skelter amidst the stars, and harnessing the fiery comets 
 to the car of his genius ; anon scouring the land like a 
 racer, the hot sparks, like young lightning marking his 
 Phaetonish course; anon breaking through the terra 
 queous shell, and revelling in Hadean horrors in under 
 ground localities somewhere. 
 
 The voice of Mrs. Partington, whom we left standing 
 on the threshold of her admiration some way back, recalls 
 us to herself. 
 
 ' How fluidly he talks ! He ought to be a minister, 
 I declare ; and how well he would look with a surplus 
 on, to be sure ! He stands on the nostrum as if he was 
 born and bred an oratorio all his life. I wish the 
 President was here to-night ; I know he 'd see he was an 
 extr'ord'nary young man, and like as not appint him 
 minister extr'ord'nary, instead of some that never 
 preached any at all. 7 ' 
 
 The old lady beat time with her fan to his gesticula- 
 
256 OUTRAGE. 
 
 tions, nodding the black bonnet approvingly, and smiled 
 as the young man told the world that Franklin had 
 made it a present of the printing-press. 
 
 OUTRAGE. 
 
 DURING a concert one night, a reckless individual, in 
 the upper gallery of the large hall in which it was held, 
 whose name we did not ascertain, allowed his bill of the 
 concert to slip through his fingers, which, falling below, 
 by the rule of gravitation, fell suddenly upon the exposed 
 head of one of our first young men ! The eflect of the 
 concussion upon an object so tender may be well imag 
 ined. Smelling-bottles were called for, and, none being 
 at hand, one young lady applied her glove to the suf 
 ferer's nose, which, having been lately cleansed with 
 turpentine, had the effect of bringing him to. The 
 diabolical perpetrator of the act had the audacity to look 
 over the edge of the gallery and grin at the injury he 
 had done, but, before the officer could get to the gallery 
 and arrest him, he had flown. 
 
 P. g. We wish it to be distinctly understood that it 
 was the- glove, and not the nose y that had been cleaned 
 with the turpentine. 
 


 
IKE IN THE COUNTRY. 257 
 
 IKE IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 DURING the last winter Ike was sent to visit some of 
 Mrs. Partington's relatives, who live on the borders of 
 the Great Bay. Squid River, which empties into the 
 bay, is a very beautiful stream in summer, but in winter 
 it is dreary enough, with the tall trees, stripped of their 
 foliage, standing, as it were, shivering upon its brink. 
 But it is a rare skating course from Moose village to the 
 river's function with the bay. 
 
 Ike had used up all his resources for fun at the end 
 of the third day. He had snowballed the cattle into a 
 frenzy, caught all the hens in a box trap, tied the pigs 
 together by the legs, sucked all the eggs he could find, 
 and was looking round for something else to do, while 
 the boys were at school. He was just calculating, as he 
 poised a snowball, how near he could come to a tame 
 pigeon on the window-sill without hitting it, when the 
 glass was saved by the appearance of the house-cat out 
 side the sacred precinct of the kitchen. 
 
 Ike had watched this cat wistfully ever since he had 
 been there, and the cat had manifested a strange repug 
 nance to him ever since he trod on her tail as she lay by 
 the stove. He immediately seized upon her, and ex 
 pedients, never wanting, soon suggested themselves to 
 him. 
 
 There were plenty of clam-shells about the yard, and, 
 selecting four of the smoothest, he, by the aid of some 
 22* 
 
258 IKE IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 grafting wax at hand, soon had Tabby beautifully shod 
 with clam-sheila and on the way to the river. Ike's idea 
 was to learn her to skate ! 
 
 The river was smooth as glass, and a sharp wind blew 
 along its surface towards the bay. " Now, Puss," said 
 Ike, as he pushed her upon the ice, " go it ! " An 
 instinct of danger instantly seized upon her. Her claws, 
 which Ike had found so sharp a short time before, were 
 now useless to her, and, with a growl of spite, she 
 swelled her caudal appendage to an enormous size 
 which, taking the wind, impelled the poor feline like a 
 clipper over the slippery path. The tail stood straight 
 as a topmast, and grew bigger and bigger, and faster and 
 faster flew the animal to which the tail belonged. Ike 
 laughed till he cried to see the cat scudding before the 
 wind. But now the bay lay before her, and far out 
 over the smooth ice was the blue water of the sea. 
 
 The result can be guessed. The cat never came back, 
 and everybody wondered what had become of her, and 
 thought it augured ill luck for a cat to leave a house so 
 suddenly. Ike thought so, especially for the cat. 
 
 Ike's conscience reproached him sadly, but he com 
 promised the matter by leaving the tenants of the barn 
 yard in peace all the while he staid there, and came home 
 with a pocket full of doughnuts and an enviable reputa 
 tion for propriety. 
 
AN ALLEGORY. 259 
 
 THE NEW YEAR-AN ALLEGORY. 
 
 " WHAT are your intentions towards Miss Now- Year? " 
 sternly asked the old Guardian of Years, as Time, in the 
 garb of youth, stepped forward to make his proposals. 
 The fair being to whom he aspired stood veiled before 
 him, in mystical beauty, beside the seer, whose dim eyes 
 had seen the birth and death v,f thousands of years, and 
 whose beard was white with the frost of centuries, and 
 whose voice creaked with the rust of many ages. 
 
 Time, buoyant with the hopes of jouth, promised 
 much. Their union, he said, would be fruitful of great 
 events. Joy and prosperity would attend upon it. By 
 their union the arms of the weak would be strengthened ; 
 the tyrant's power be shorn of its might ; the poor and 
 down-trodden be exalted; the desponding be made to 
 sing for joy ; abuse be banished from the earth ; the 
 wrath of man be restrained ; and the struggle for right 
 be crowned with success. 
 
 The old guardian shook his head incredulously, and a 
 tear fell upon his gray beard as he spoke : 
 
 " Alas ! ala> ! " he said, " the same promises were 
 made by your sire to her fair mother, and broken, as 
 have been all the promises of Time since the world began. 
 Where is the fruition of the glorious hopes held out for 
 bygone years ? They have found their end in gloon? and 
 
260 AS ALLEGORY. 
 
 disappointment. How can I trust, then, this precious 
 charge to your arms in view of olden failures 7 " 
 
 Then young Time, laying down his hour-glass and 
 gayly swinging his scythe among the few weeds left of 
 the herbage of the ol I year, made answer, with a firm 
 tone and a cheerful air : 
 
 " The violated promises of others should not be the 
 criterion for judging of mine; nor their failure be urged 
 as a presage of my own ill-success. Let me prove myself 
 by iny acts, and if endeavor may win the goal, my chance 
 is good. Let me try." 
 
 The old guardian grasped Time by the hand approving 
 ly; the hand of the virgin year was placed in his, and, 
 as the clock struck the hour of twelve, the form of the 
 old seer faded from view, and the mystical one, for better 
 and worse, for joy and sorrow, became the wedded bride 
 of Time. 
 
 PERSONAL cleanliness is a virtue, but it is not pleasant 
 to see a "man cleaning his teeth with a questionable 
 pocket-handkerchief; neither is it to see a man, however 
 attentive he may be to the wants of his family, put a 
 beef-steak in the Town of his hat, and fill his trousers' 
 pockets with cucumbers. It don't look well. 
 
THE ARCHITECTURAL BLACK ETE. 261 
 
 THE ARCHITECTURAL BLACK EYE. 
 
 WE met old Guzzle one day, with a terrible black eye. 
 " Ah ! " said we to the interesting individual, " bad eye 
 that." 
 
 " Yes, that 'ere 's a architectural eye." 
 
 We asked an explanation. 
 
 li I say this 'ere ? s a architectural eye, because I got it 
 from the Elizabethan architecture of our house." 
 
 We were in the dark as much as ever. 
 
 " T other night," continued he, "I went home partially 
 tight I say partially, for, 'pon my honor, I had drank 
 but seven times during the evening. I felt my way up 
 by the wainscoting, " because I didn't want to make a 
 noise, and when I got to the top, I forgot what a deuced 
 wide staircase it was, and when I turned to go towards 
 my door, what does I do but walks right down stairs 
 again, a good deal faster than I went up, and struck my 
 head agin the corner-post, and be hanged to it ! Bad 
 eye, is n't it ? And all from that infernal Elizabethan 
 stairway." 
 
 We thought that the fault lay with the rum. 
 
262 SEEKING A COMET. 
 
 SEEKING A COMET. 
 
 IT was with an anxious feeling that Mrs. Partington, 
 having smoked her specs, directed her gaze towards the 
 western sky, in truest of the tailless comet of 1850. 
 
 "I can't. see it," said she; and a shade of vexation 
 was perceptible in the tone of her voice. " I don't think 
 much of this explanatory system," continued she, " that 
 they praise so, where the stars are mixed up so that / 
 can't tell Jew Peter from Satan, nor the consternation 
 of the Great Bear from the man in the moon. ? T is all 
 dark to me. I don't believe there is any comet at all. 
 Who ever heard of a comet without a tail, I should like 
 to know ? It is n ? t natural ; but the printers will make 
 a tale for it fast enough, for they are always getting up 
 comical stories. '' 
 
 With a complaint about the falling dew, and a slight 
 murmur of disappointment, the dame disappeared behind 
 a deal door, like the moon behind a cloud. 
 
 AMONG the Roman priesthood was a class called 
 augurs. There are many great bores among our mod 
 ern priests. 
 
BENEVOLENCE UNAPPRECIATED. 263 
 
 BENEVOLENCE UNAPPRECIATED. 
 
 PIIILANTIIROPOS was at a public meeting one evening, 
 where the heat was distressing, and, observing a lady on 
 a seat in front of him who appeared to be suffering from 
 excessive warmth, he went out and bought a large fan, 
 which he delicately set in motion, as if fanning himself, 
 while he made every effort to give her the benefit of the 
 artificial breeze, becoming himself additionally heated 
 from the exertion he made, losing all interest in the 
 concert from his intentness in the benevolent action, and 
 smiling to himself with the belief that his kindness was 
 felt without its sourco being known. He was thus 
 benevolently happy, until he heard the lady tell her 
 husband to go and shut down that odious window behind 
 her, for she had felt cold on her neck all the evening 
 from the east wind. Philanthropes went out and sold 
 the fan for seven cents that he had given a quarter for 
 an hour before. 
 
 Ax editor having stated in his paper that he had been 
 presented with a number of varieties of plumbs, old 
 Roger declared his preference for the perpendicular. 
 
264 
 
 THE PABTINO WORD. 
 
 THE PARTING WORD. 
 
 'N telling a story about 
 fcl a Printer, I am not 
 about detailing the 
 mysteries and difficul 
 ties of his occupation, 
 although a feeling 
 and interesting sketch 
 might be made of the 
 business of his life, 
 with its care and toil 
 for the good of the 
 world. I love the 
 printers from associa 
 tion and long habit ; am proud now of their companion 
 ship; and, when walking arm-and-arm with my friend, 
 the President of the Franklin Typographical Society, I 
 feel as well as if the individual in the hook of my arm 
 were the President of the United States. My intention 
 in this little tale is simply to give the incidents of a 
 printer's life, wherein his heart was concerned, and not 
 to meddle with his profession in any way, save to dignify 
 my hero by the association. 
 
 The " Freeman's Star" was located in Patny, the shire 
 town of Seaburn county, in our State, and it exerted a 
 great influence upon the mind and manners of the people. 
 Society took its tone from the priming-offic'e. The mag- 
 
THE PARTING WORD. 2o5 
 
 nates of the place owned its sway, perhaps through fear. 
 and the humblest looked towards it with reverence, for 
 they had heard of its power as the ;; defender of the peo 
 ple's rights," and never deemed how much of humbug 
 there was in the profession. The editor .was looked up to 
 as a great man, and people would touch one another as 
 he passed, and whisper, ' That is the editor !" He had 
 been foreman of a daily office in the city, and his impor 
 tance was unbounded on the assumption of his new 
 honors. In a proportionate degree all hands in the office 
 were marked men. The single journeymen, the grown 
 up apprentice from the neighboring town, and the demon 
 himself, were all marked individuals, and people treated 
 them deferentially for their connection with the ;; mighty 
 engine" that had such power. Their opinions, expressed 
 at times about the weather, or the elections, or the crops, 
 were listened to attentively, and everything that appeared 
 in the Freeman's Star was imputed to one or the other of 
 the "printers" by the particular friends of each. Let a 
 piece of village poetry appear, or a good story culled 
 from some city paper, and at once would be seen in it by 
 the different parties traces of the mind of each of their 
 favorites. They would have known it to be his if they 
 had seen it in the moon, if they were by accident located 
 iu that planet and had met with it there. 
 
 It was in this office that I made the acquaintance 
 of the hero of my story the grown-up apprentice 
 who bore the uncuphonious name of Jabez Bee. He was 
 a spirited fellow, very intelligent, and as full of mischief 
 u as an egg is full of meat," to use an expressive modern 
 ism, lie was a constant attendant upon the tavern, in 
 
2l>G TKU PARTING WORD. 
 
 all his leisure moments, where, attracting a crowd of 
 countrymen around him, he would astonish them by the 
 keenness ot* his wit and the extent of his information, and 
 many a marvellous story have his country friends carried 
 home " as latest news," that originated in the teeming 
 brain of Jabez. Steamboats were blown up and railroad 
 accidents were as common then, in this way, as now. 
 when the melancholy realities need no draught upon the 
 fancy, for instances. 
 
 But he gained a character for wit at the expense of 
 his moral reputation, which is too often the case ; and at 
 eighteen, though everybody liked him and laughed with 
 him, he was set down as not likely "to turn out very 
 well" a great phrase in Patny. People cautioned 
 their sons and daughters about going in his company, 
 and " Evil communications corrupt good manners " was 
 written as a copy in every girl's and boy's writing-book 
 in town. But he laughed at them all, and the boys 
 joined him ; and the girls, who, somehow or other, always 
 seem to set more by the wild and mischievous than by 
 the staid and prudent, loved Jabez very , sisterly. He 
 was bold and generous qualities which no true woman 
 can see in a man without admiring them. 
 
 Far more discerning than older ones in mutters of soul, 
 they had discriminated long ago between the mischief 
 and wildness of Jabez and his malice and wickedness, and 
 a large balance was set down in their hearts in favor of 
 his good qualities. They saw a sympathetic smile or 
 tear where those who decried him saw but levity and 
 heartlessness. They smiled upon him for striving to 
 aave the child's lamb from drowning in the well, and re- 
 
TUB PARTING WORD. 267 
 
 joiced outright when he threw the bully over the fence, 
 who was maltreating the widow's son. 
 
 The most beautiful girl in Patny was Susan Bray. 
 She was a charming little creature, with an eye as blue 
 as a violet in spring, a voice as soft as the evening bird's, 
 a cheek like the blush of the apple blossom, and a breath 
 as sweet as its perfume breathed over the pearly purity 
 of her teeth. Her form was slight and graceful, and as 
 lithe as the bending corn or the wavy pliancy of the 
 yielding grass. I am not good at describing beauty in 
 ladies. 'T is not my forte ; but I am determined here 
 after to put myself under the hand of my friend Paul 
 Creyton, or some other master of art, and become better 
 versed in the science of drawing word-portraits. Enough 
 is it for my purpose to say that she was very beautiful, 
 and that over her beauty was thrown a fascination of 
 manner and a propriety that was peculiarly delightful. 
 She gained for herself from her admiring companions the 
 expressive soubriquet of " the lily of the vale," and her 
 modesty and grace justified the title. 
 
 She was the daughter of Mr. Bray, the village black 
 smith, and having been educated in a distant town, her 
 return to Patny was like the rising of a new star or the 
 discovery of a new flower. The young men were de 
 lighted with her manners, and the young women 
 pleasant creatures gave her their hearts willingly, for 
 they feared rivalry from her no more than they would 
 from the new moon. She moved in a circle that the bold 
 printer boy did not enter. The blacksmith was a hard 
 man, and the reputation of Jabez was such that it did 
 not commend itself very favorably to the old man's mind, 
 
268 THE PARTING WORD. 
 
 and he had discouraged acquaintance with him. From 
 the time of her return, however, had Jabcz Bee looked 
 upon the fair Susan admiringly, but at a distance. lie 
 gazed upon her with a respectful feeling that had no 
 affinity with the lighter and laughing affection he felt 
 for the village girls of his acquaintance. lie felt that 
 she was a superior being to the whole of them, and his 
 soul bowed with reverence at her shrine hoping 
 nothing and asking nothing but to lay its silent offering 
 at her feet, as the simple votary brings garlands in the 
 still of the morning to hang upon the shriro of some 
 favorite saint. It was a beautiful feeling, and as pure 
 as beautiful. The love at first almost unconscious 
 became at length the absorbing feeling of his life. It 
 marked his conduct and conversation, and the unconfessed 
 passion he felt moulded the impetuous and the wild boy 
 into a dreamer and a visionary. lie pored over books, 
 and the woods and glens and water-brooks were familiar 
 with his footsteps. He acted in short, dear reader, as 
 you, and I, and almost all others, have done, or might 
 have done, under like circumstances, made himself very 
 ridiculous, and the Freeman's Star literallv groaned with 
 
 t O 
 
 the efforts of his awakened muse: and well it might grain, 
 as everybody did that read what he wrote. The poetry 
 was more truthful than lovely, and its quantity, like 
 the Irishman's dance, compensated for its quality. The 
 change in his conduct was marked. Business was more 
 closely attended to, and the tavern frequented less. He 
 became a perfect marvel to his friends, who wondered 
 what had come over him, and as the spiritual knocking* 
 hud just come along, some, in levity, gave it as their 
 
THE PARTING WORD. 200 
 
 opinion that he had had an interview with the ghost of 
 his grandmother, that had rebuked his gracelessness. 
 But though he was less lively than formerly, he was none 
 the less kind to all, and everybody loved him as well or 
 better than ever. 
 
 But fate, so called that officiates as a sort of junior 
 Providence in the affairs of men decided that a passion 
 so fostered and concealed should be known, and that all 
 the speculation with regard to Jabez Bee's mystery, 
 grandmothers ghost and all, should be swallowed up by 
 a knowledge of the fact. 
 
 There was to be a great picnic in Patny. The Free 
 man's Star had announced it for a month in big type, 
 and in an editorial notice had apprized the people that it 
 was to occur on such a day, weather permitting the 
 editor dwelling with great eloquence upon the happy 
 combination of beauty and cold chicken, pancakes and 
 poetry, crackers and conversation, cider and scenery, in 
 making up the sum total of its enjoyment. The day 
 came auspiciously ; the sun was bright, and the air was 
 balmy; the lads and lasses laughed lavishly, and the 
 birds sang sweetly in the bushes. In a grove near, the 
 company held high carnival to Pan, and the arches 
 of the woods were vocal with the noise of mirth. Near 
 by was a charming little lake, hemmed in by trees and 
 bordered by sedges, dotted here and there by patches of 
 lily pads, amid whose deep green the water flowers 
 gleamed like stars, and this lake wooed many to its brink, 
 to admire its beauty, to plash in its cool water, or sail 
 upon its still bosom in a tiny boat that was at hand. 
 Jabcz and Susan were of the party, and through the 
 23* 
 
270 THE PARTING WORD. 
 
 atmosphere of her presence he saw a new and mystical 
 beauty in everything the trees were greener, the ber 
 ries were brighter, the air was balmier, and the music of 
 the pines had a new and sweeter melody. Susan was 
 one of a few that had wandered towards the lake, and 
 Jabez had watched her at a distance, fondly drinking in 
 with every faculty of his being her charms as they 
 became revealed to him. in her playful movements among 
 the trees ; and her smiles, though not for him, were sun 
 shine to his heart. And now his heart, that interesting 
 organ, throbs wildly, as he sees her with playful reck 
 lessness step upon the tiny boat and push it from the 
 shore. The treacherous twig to which the boat was tied 
 broke at the strain it received, and Susan Bray was afloat 
 and alone upon the waters of the lake. Each effort she 
 made to gain the shore was fruitless, when, her paddle 
 having become entangled in the lily pads, she was 
 thrown, pale as one of her kindred lilies, into the water. 
 Confusion immediately ensued, and rash endeavor to 
 save her only threatened her more sure destruction, when 
 Jabez Bee rushed madly to the scene, and in a minute 
 was by her side. The water was very deep, but, with 
 one arm grasping tue boat and the other supporting his 
 fair burden, he held her above the current until assist 
 ance came, when, completely exhausted with the exer 
 tion used, he fainted as he reached the shore. 
 
 In such manner did the intimacy commence be 
 tween Jabez, the printer, and the fair Susan Bray, an 
 intimacy that resulted in a mutual affection as pure and 
 exalted as ever burned in the breast of more noted heroes 
 or heroines of romance. The heroic conduct and <:ener- 
 
THE PARTING WORD. 271 
 
 osity of her lover won her heart, as her beauty and inno 
 cence had won his, and they were mutually happy, of 
 course. 
 
 But the Freeman's Star waned in its brilliancy ; its 
 four hundred subscribers did not pay; buckets and 
 apple-sauce, in which subscribers generally paid, had 
 ceased to be negotiable articles in the payment for paper 
 and ink; and the Star went down in darkness, leaving 
 poor Jabez minus employment, but with plus hope. Love 
 fed Hope, and Hope held out her candlo, and Faith 
 grew strong within him that the future had great things 
 in store for him. . . 
 
 Lovers' partings have been so often described that the 
 parting of Jabez and Susan must be imagined ; for, as 
 every one will at once perceive, it became necessary for 
 them to part. We will merely state with regard to it, 
 that it was tender and interesting to themselves, and alfi) 
 to the miller's maiden sister, who watched the last kiss on 
 the door-step, when he tore himself away the night before 
 he went to Boston. But she didn't hear what he said. 
 
 "Dear Susan/' said he, "keep up a good heart, and I 
 shall return to you, don't fear: and I will prove myself 
 worthy of you. too, God bless you, and when we meet 
 again we will love each other all the better. i Absence 
 makes the heart grow fonder,' you know. So wipe your 
 eyes, Susan, dear, and give me some word that I may 
 remember when danger is nigh, and it will prove a love- 
 charm that evil and temptation cannot overcome." 
 
 He pressed her to his beating heart as he spoke, and 
 put the imprint of a kiss upon her brow. 
 
 "Jabez," said she, smiling through her tears, u your 
 
THE PARTING WORU. 
 
 affections may be sorely tried in the great city, and 
 temptation will beset your path, but my prayer* shall be 
 offered for you, and the word I would have yon remem- 
 l>er above all others is FIDELITY. Let us be faithful to 
 each other. Remember, l fidelity.' ' 
 
 He kissed the lips that uttered the word and Towed to 
 remember. 
 
 Fidelity ! It is a strong word, and embraces in its 
 meaning the whole duty of man. All of love, truth, 
 honesty, is comprised in its signification. Faithful ! 
 Of course he would be faithful; and how could he be 
 otherwise ? In the ardor of his young love, if seemed 
 the easiest thing in the world. 
 
 And now he is in the city, a wondering and admiring 
 stranger : and. after considerable difficulty, a compositor 
 on a morning paper. Day by day, and night by night, 
 high up under the eaves, is he toiling, breathing the 
 fetid and smoky atmosphere of the printing-office. lie 
 has become " the slave of the lamp he ami all the 
 other slaves." Night, which brings rest to the world, 
 brings no rest to him. The holy Sabbath, with its sweet 
 influences, brings no solice for him Christ has risen 
 in vain. The click of typos at midnight is heard, like a 
 death-watch, denoting the flight of time. Telegraphs, 
 steamboats and railroads, combine for IIH discomfort. 
 The reckless and the unhappy arc his companions, and 
 grace struggles in vain to grow in an atmosphere impreg 
 nated with lamp-smoke and sin. It is a sacrifice of 
 liberty and health, of body and soul, for money. 
 
 Jabez has a strong hope in him, which sustains him. 
 He hears the ribald jest, often aimed at what he reganls 
 
THE I'ARTIMI WORD. 273 
 
 most sacrcil; he sees the irreverence which bad men show 
 for holy things. At first he is shocked ; but the ingrain 
 generosity of his associates leads him to think less unfa 
 vorably of their lack of morals, and ho laughs at what at 
 first gave him pain. 
 
 "FIDELITY ! " was it a voice at his side that uttered 
 the cabalistic word in his ear, and that sunk down into his 
 heart ] That word saved him. It was a good angel en 
 shrined in his memory that came to warn him of danger 
 and exhort him to faithfulness, and his feelings became 
 again pure and fresh as when he left their inspiration. 
 
 " Come, Jabez ! " said a brother typo, li 't is Saturday ; 
 for this day, at least, we are free; and now, my boy, 
 what say you to having a good time ? Let r s go round 
 and see the folks. 77 
 
 And with a laugh on his lip, and the fire of fun in his 
 eye, and a sense of freedom in his mind, he went with 
 his good-natured persuader plunged with him into dens 
 where rum flowed like water, and the hoarse shout of 
 revelry smote his ear with the discordance of the bottom 
 less pit. It needed no friendly warning to save him, for 
 his spirit shrank instinctively at the sights he saw, and 
 the sounds he heard. One after anotiicr of these places 
 he visited, and each time with a dimming sense of their 
 abominations ; the light of conscience became foggy in 
 the dun of tobacco smoke, and sensibility was blunted in 
 the frequency of the vile exhibitions that met his gaze. 
 
 FIDELITY! That word came again to him, and the 
 scales fell from his eyes. The demon had lost his 
 power and the serpent was revealed in all his hideous- 
 
274 THE PARTING WORD. 
 
 From pleasure to pleasure, through temptation after 
 temptation, in the dance, in the saloons, in the theatre, 
 hia secret monitor came to him like the voice of a fire- 
 bell, and his spirit grew strong under its admonition. 
 In seasons of quiet and peaceful enjoyment, too, the 
 word came to him approvingly, and his soul received it 
 as a beautiful token of unbroken love, and hope revived. 
 
 It must be confessed, I think, that never yet was 
 printer attended by so faithful a monitor, or by one that 
 was half so well heeded. 
 
 And now sickness pressed upon Jabez, and he thought 
 he was going to die. I believe that it always happens 
 that people in love, or homesick people, are more fearful 
 of death than others. It is your jolly debtor, who, 
 honest man, hopes, by paying the debt of nature, to pay 
 all the rest he owes, that is ready to die. The poor 
 printer was sad, and ki Fidelity " was heard but faintly 
 in his dread to go. He was delirious. His mind wan 
 dered amid early scenes again with Susan Bray. Her 
 voice he heard in his dreams exhorting him to fidelity. 
 Again they stood together upon the old door-step in 
 Patny, and he was pouring into her listening car the 
 story of his temptations and his support, and received 
 from her sweet lips the deserved approval of his faith 
 fulness. The meeting-house came up in his dream of 
 bliss, and within its walls, robed in white, stood Susan 
 Bray, and by her side himself, arrayed in the bravery 
 of a holiday suit, a happy bridegroom. A new Star 
 arose in Patny, boasting innumerable subscribers, who 
 all paid in money, and not in buckets and apple-sauce, 
 himself its editor, and himself the most important man 
 
CHE PARTING WORD. 275 
 
 in the village, and whispered about as he walked along 
 the street. Alas ! 't was but the vagary of a diseased 
 mind, soon dispelled by the officious obtrusion of a spoon 
 with medicine beneath his nose. Day by day he was 
 watched almost hopelessly. At last, however, a youth 
 ful constitution triumphed over disease and medicine, a 
 fearful odds, and he became conscious. Bright eyes 
 were beaming over him ; blue eyes, suffused with tears 
 and affection ! Reader, can you guess whose eyes they 
 were ? 'Right. You have guessed right the first time. 
 They were Susan Bray's, as bright and true as when, 
 two years before, he had left them at Patny, though they 
 had shed many tears over his prostrate form during his 
 unconsciousness, as if he, or any printer that ever 
 lived, were worth such solicitude ? 
 
 The first word they both pronounced was " Fidelity," 
 and their eyes proclaimed the fidelity of their hearts. 
 
 It is now about four years since the foregoing scene 
 was enacted, and the other day I received .No. 1 of a 
 new paper called the Freeman's Star, from Patny, edited 
 and printed by Jabez Bee. A letter accompanied the 
 paper, containing a request. that I should visit him at 
 home, and that Susan, his ir//V, would be delighted to 
 see me. As soon as spring opens I shall go. 
 
 Success to the printers, say I ; and when temptation is 
 besetting them, as it too often is, may they have a voice 
 to speak to their generous souls, exhorting them to 
 "Fidelity." 
 
-27G 
 
 ON* GHOSTS. 
 
 ON GHOSTS. 
 
 o you believe in ghosts, 
 Mrs. Partington ? " it was 
 asked of the old lady, some 
 what timidly. 
 
 < ; To be sure I do," re- 
 ** plied she, <; as much as I 
 I.olieve that bright fuliui- 
 nary there will rise in the 
 yeast to-morrow morning, if 
 1 we live and nothing happens. 
 \ Two apprehensions have 
 surtinly appeareil in our 
 own t! :uily. Why, I saw 
 my dear Paul, a fortnight 
 
 before he died, with my own eyes, jest as p?uin as I see 
 you now ; and though it turned out arterwards to be a 
 rosebush with a night-cap on it, I shall always think, to 
 the day of my desolation, that it was a forerunner sent 
 to me. 'T other one came in the night, when we were 
 asleep, and carried away three candles and a pint of 
 spirits that we kept in the house for an embarkation. 
 Believe in ghosts, indeed ! I guess I do, and he must 
 be a dreadful styptic as does n't ! ?7 and she piously turned 
 to the part of the Book relating to the witch of Endor. 
 
STAtJB t'OMPAXION'SIin'. 277 
 
 STAGE COMPANIONSHIP. 
 
 SOME folks arc always talking, and some, with pro 
 voking taciturnity, are always saying nothing, to use a 
 left-handed expression. We like a good talker, intelli 
 gent, quick, ready, whose happy conversational power 
 tends to make the rough way of life pleasant; and we 
 have a corresponding dread of one who drones, and hes 
 itates, and speaks only by monosyllables, and then as if 
 he took out each word and looked at it before he dared 
 to utter it. It is amusing at times to observe two of 
 these human opposites come in contact. to hear the 
 lively laugh and playful jest of the one. as he rattles on, 
 like a fast horse over the paving-stones, striking a spark 
 at every step, and the sombre glumncss of the other, 
 who, hardly deigning to smile, sits tongueless, brooding 
 over his thoughts, like a hen at midnight. Put the two 
 in a stage-coach or rail-car, to modernize a little, and see 
 how the former will shine ; while the latter, poor dum 
 my, though perhaps morally and intellectually worth six 
 of the former, sits unnoted, or regarded only as some 
 cheap fellow of no consequence. 
 
 We were one of three who one day, long ago, occupied 
 seats with the driver of a stage, during a fifty mile ride. 
 and one of the company was the merriest follow we ever 
 saw. He told stories, sung songs, and laughed, till all 
 rang again, with our accompaniment, by the "dim 
 woods " that we passed, and over the hills that we 
 24 
 
278 MR. SMITH'S DESIRE TO INSTRUCT HIS BOY. 
 
 climbed. It was a jolly ride, surpassing that, we think, 
 of the renowned Mr. Pickwick, where the very correct 
 Bob Sawyer occupied an equally outside position with 
 our illustrious selves. We were somewhat inclined to be 
 merry in those days, may Heaven forgive us ! and that 
 ride was an event to be rememl>ered life-long. The 
 whole party enjoyed it, save one, and he was the most 
 woebegone-looking customer we had ever seen. Joking 
 wouldn't move him ; he was impenetrable to any missile 
 of that kind, and there he sat with a countenance fifty 
 miles long, 't is fair to reckon it by the length of the 
 road, gazing very sadly at the right ear of the nigh 
 horse. Our funny companion at last bent his whole battery 
 upon the silent man, and tried to draw him out. It was 
 an entire failure, and the joker, a little chagrined at the 
 other's imperturbability, asked him, in a somewhat hasty 
 tone, why the (something) he did n't talk. Without 
 moving his eyes from the contemplation of the horse's 
 ear, he opened his head, and these words dropped out: 
 " What J s the nsc of talking ? rr 
 
 " MY son/' said Mr. Smith to his little boy who was 
 devouring an egg, it was Mr. Smith's desire to instruct 
 his boy, " My son, do you know that chickens come 
 out of eggs ? " 
 
 "Ah, do they, father? 77 said young Hopeful; "I 
 thought that eggs came out of chickens ! " 
 
 The elder Smith drew back from the table sadly, and 
 gazed upon his son. then put on his hat and went to his 
 work. 
 
MR. SLOW UPON MORAL WORTH. 279 
 
 MR. SLOW UPON MORAL WORTH. 
 
 " 'BlMELECif, you must try arid be a good man I 'v 
 always taught you that. Never let your name be at a 
 discount on 'change; always mind and take up your 
 notes, 'cause credit ? s everything in the world. What 's 
 a man without credit? He a'n't nothing he a'n't no 
 where. For a man to be without credit is about as bad 
 as poverty, and a man without money or credit is to be 
 despised. Avoid such people as you would the small 
 pox. Look at your gran'ther. 'Bimelech ; there ? s a 
 sample for you to follow. He always acted right. He 
 never owed a dollar, and never lost one, 'cause he was 
 shrewd. He never run round, lending his money to 
 folks not he. Morgidges did it ; and people used to 
 love to have him foreclose on 'em, .'cause he did it so 
 good-naturedly. He was a good man. His name was 
 always right on 'change. Ife- could always get money, 
 let it be ever so hard. You never catched him squander 
 ing his money on charitable humbugs, and encouraging 
 porpoises not he ; and when he died he was worth two 
 hundred thousand dollars, and the ships' colors were 
 lusted half-mast, 'cause a good man had fell in Israel ! " 
 'Bimelech must improve under such training, and isn't 
 it the world's teaching continually? 
 
280 MR. SLOW OFF SOUNDINGS. 
 
 MR. SLOW OFF SOUNDINGS. 
 
 "TtiE airth is round, my son,'* said Mr. Slow, im 
 pressively, taking an apple from Abimelech's hand, and 
 holding it up between his thumb and finger, " like a 
 napple, and revolves on its own axle-tree round the sun, 
 jest as reg'lar as any machine you ever sec. The airth 
 is made up of land, and water, and rocks, besides vege 
 tation and trees, and things growing. The mountings 
 upon the service of the earth are very high, -more *n 
 a half a mile, I should think ; some of 'em are called 
 white mountings, because they aVt black. The ocean 
 is very deep, and some folks thinks it hasn't got no bottom. 
 This is all gammon. Everything has got a bottom, 
 my son. The reason they can't find it is "cause the 
 world is round. They throw their sinker overboard, and 
 it goes right through one side, like this" (thrusting 
 his knife through the apple), "and bangs down under 
 neath, jest so. Of course they can't find a bottom." 
 
 Mr. Slow gave his boy the apple, and turned round, 
 much satisfied with himself. 
 
 " WHAT is a waxed end ? " asked one not posted in 
 the vocabulary of Lynn. 
 
 "A waxed end," was the reply, " is the end that 
 receives the whacks." 
 
AN EDITOR A LITTLE HEATED. 
 
 AN EDITOR A LITTLE HEATED. 
 
 COPY ! quotha? copy!- with the thermometer at OG C . 
 What an unconscionable dog it is, to be sure, to worry 
 one so. Not one line, so help us Stebbings ! not one 
 line. Avaunt ! quit our sight ! for the heat of the day 
 is fused into our spirit, and. 
 
 ** By that sword which gleams above us," 
 
 annihilation a waits you, if you dare provoke us with your 
 importunity. The idea of writing at such time is abom 
 inable, and no reasonable devil would insist on ? tr. A vile 
 knave thou art at best, with thy swart and lank jaws 
 there distended, bawling for copy. Grin away, you waif 
 from the lake of Tartarus, whose burning flood ne'er 
 yielded a more hideous whelp for our, or the world's, 
 torment. We tell thce, swart minion, vile Mercury of 
 inordinate jours, that copy thou canst not have. What ! 
 write when the atmosphere, like hot lava, wreathes the 
 brow and sticks there with the tenacity of molten pitch, 
 and burns and burns upon the brain like the thirsi for 
 revenge, or the seething scald of impending pecuniary 
 obligation 7 Away, caitiff! and ' : tell thy masters this, 
 and tell them, too," that we will sec them hanged ere 
 we will write a line for them to-day. Vamose ! mizzle ! 
 scatter ! or, by St. Paul, temper, outraged, shall take to 
 itself form, and launch its thunders on thy devoted head ! 
 But, stay. This, the ebullition of our wrath, is copy, 
 poor at best, give it/eni. 
 24* 
 
282 DON'T CUT IT, MISS. 
 
 DON'T CUT IT, MISS. 
 
 " DON'T you think my dress much too long ? " asked 
 Seraphina, the youngest of the seven, of old Roger. 
 
 " Don't cut it, miss, even if it is. I beg of you as a 
 friend not to cut it," said the old man seriously. 
 
 " Why not ? " inquired she, timidly. 
 
 " Because, miss, I remember a difficulty of my own 
 once, under like circumstances, which was a source of 
 much shame to me. Overtaken by a severe shower far 
 from home, I was terribly drenched, and a new pair of 
 sheepskin inexpressibles that I wore, tied close at the 
 knee, as was the fashion then, received the dripping 
 streams from my body, and, distended like a bad case nf 
 the dropsy, fell below my calves ; like your dress, they 
 were too long, and I cut them off at the knee. But the 
 warm sun came out, the sheepskin contracted; inch by 
 inch I felt it creeping up my legs ; and, by the time I 
 got home, you may be sure I was a sight to behold. 
 Don't cut it, miss, unless you feel perfectly sure it will 
 not shrink more." 
 
 There was a smile at the old gentleman's delicacy in 
 the matter, but there could be no fear of danger, and 
 they did n't sec how the cases were parallel at all. 
 
TWENTY-NINE CATS. 283 
 
 TWENTY-NIXE CATS. 
 
 4 ' SCAT ! " screamed Mrs. Partington, , from the head 
 of the stairs^, as the noise of an interesting quadruped of 
 the cat species in the kitchen below met her ears. 
 "Scat! I say!" 
 
 She listened to ascertain the result of her command ; 
 but the noise was resumed, and the little kitchen echoed 
 again with the feline music, spitting, and mewing, and 
 groivling with the concatenation of malignity in every 
 note of it that reached he r as she leaned over the ban 
 ister. 
 
 " Gracious Heaven ! " cried she, " I should think 
 there was twenty of 'em; what shall I do? Scat!" 
 she screamed again, and the noise redoubled ; indeed, it 
 appeared to her excited fancy that a reinforcement had 
 arrived, and were all in full chorus, and now the crash 
 of crockery added to her fear. She dared not go down, 
 for, of all things in the world, she feared a spiteful cat. 
 It became suddenly still in a moment or so, and she 
 ventured down stairs. A broken plate was on the floor, 
 with traces of molasses upon the fragments, and Ike 
 very demurely sat behind the stove, counting his mar 
 bles. 
 
 i; IIas there been any cats in here, Isaac'?" said the 
 kind old lady, looking anxiously round the room. 
 
 "Twenty-seven, twenty -eight, twenty-nine'' 
 
 " Where, for goodness sake, did twenty-nine cats como 
 
284 OLD ROUER'S SIGNS OF MATRIMONY. 
 
 from?*' asked she: <; but I knowcd there was a good 
 many of 'ein." 
 
 " And there 's a twoser," continued Ike. still count 
 ing, Ci and a Chinese." 
 
 ''Anything like the Maltees, Isaac?" inquired she. 
 
 :; I mean marbles, aunt," said Ike. 
 
 "And I mean cats, Isaac.'' said Mrs. Partington, se 
 verely. 
 
 It was a scene for a painter. Coffin should do it 
 up, her eyes alternated between the broken plate and 
 the boy. as if pondering the mystery of the sounds she 
 had heard, and Ike wiped the molasses from his mouth 
 on his sleeve. Did n't the molasses on the plate explain 
 it? He had to take a lecture, you may depend, on the 
 certainty of roguish boys being awfully punished for 
 plaguing the aged, and lie had to read the story aloud, 
 before he went to bed that night, of the boys who were 
 eaten up by the sho-bears. 
 
 A COACH containing a young man and woman with 
 one trunk on behind, behind the coach is meant, is 
 pleasingly suggestive of matrimony. 
 
 " Yes," says old Roger, sardonically, " but a half 
 dozen young ones and seven bandboxes are much more 
 suggestive, there 's no mistaking signs like those." 
 
MRS. PARTiNOTON ON TOBACCO. 285 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTOX OX TOBACCO. 
 
 "I KNOW that tobacco is very dilatorious," said Mrs. 
 Partington, as Mr. Trask sat conversing witli her upon 
 the body and soul destroying nature of the weed. " I 
 know that tobacco is dilatorious, especially to a white 
 floor;" and, taking out her snuff-box, the broad one 
 with the picture of Napoleon on the cover, she tapped 
 it, and offered a pinch to her guest. 
 
 " Snuff is just as bad," said he, laying his finger 
 gently on her arm and speaking earnestly 4i snuff in 
 jures the intellect, affects the nerves, destroys the memo 
 ry; it is tobacco in its most subtle form, and the poison 
 appears as the devil did in Eden, under a pleasing 
 exterior." '. 
 
 She gazed upon him a moment in silence. 
 
 " I know," said she, u it has a tenderness to the head ; 
 but I could n't do without it, it is so auxiliarating to 
 me when I am down to the heel ; and if it is a pizen, as 
 you call it, I should have been killed by it forty years 
 ago. Good snuff, like good tea. is a great blessing, and 
 I don't see how folks who have no amusement can jret 
 
 O 
 
 along without it." 
 
 The box was dropped back to its receptacle, and her 
 friend took his leave, sighing that she would persist in 
 shortening her days by the use of snuff, and stopped a 
 moment to lecture Ike, who was enjoying a sugar cigar 
 npon the front door-step. 
 
286 GUITAR IN THE HEAD. A SINGULAR FACT. 
 
 GUITAR IN THE HEAD. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTOX'S neighbor. Mrs. Sled, complained 
 one morning of a ringing in her ears. 
 
 " It must be owing to the guitar in your head, dear," 
 said the old lady. She knew every sort of human ail 
 ment, and, like the down-east doctor, was death on fits. 
 " I know what ringing in the ears is/ 7 continued she; 
 " for my ears used to ring so bad, sometimes, as to wake 
 Paul out of his sleep, thinking it was an alarm of 
 fire ! " 
 
 There was no doubt she was telling what was true, but 
 there were some that questioned it in a gentle cough. We 
 have n't a doubt of its truth. 
 
 A SINGULAR FACT. 
 
 f THEM are very fat critters," remarked Mrs. Part- 
 ington, as she stood viewing a yoke of splendid steers. 
 
 " Yes *m," replied the farmer, li and, would you be 
 lieve it, mum, they were fattened on nothin' but oat 
 straw, and it had n't been threshed, neither." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " said she, and, for a moment, 
 doubt of the probability of the story occupied her mind ; 
 it was but for a moment. " Well. I never ! 7T continued 
 she, and turned aside to admire the beauties of a new 
 cider-press. 
 
A HIT AT THE TIMES. 287 
 
 A HIT AT THE TIMES. 
 
 " BRED by steam-power ! " screamed Mrs. Partington, 
 aa she brard Isaac commence a paragraph about making 
 bread by steam. She laid down her work, placed her 
 hand/* upon her lap, and looked broadly at the boy 
 throagh her specs. " Bred by steam ! " said she ; " what 
 wiJi the world do next ? I wonder if this is one of the 
 labor-saving inventions, now. But I see what it will end 
 io. People are fast enough now, in all conscience; but 
 fhat will they do when they come to be bred by steam- 
 power, if they act according to their bringing up ? Ah, 
 Isaac, people may be faster now, but they are no better 
 than they used to be ! " 
 
 Isaac explained that it was a new mode of making 
 bread. She looked at him steadily for a moment, when, 
 taking a thumb and finger full, she put the cover on 
 the box, resumed her knitting, and told Isaac to go 
 on, which he did. 
 
288 
 
 TUB POOR PRINTER. 
 
 THE POOR PRINTER. 
 
 printer poor in 
 jl purse, we mean reduced 
 to penury and rags, and 
 asking alms about the 
 printing-offices, is a mel 
 ancholy sight. There is 
 enough in one such spec 
 tacle to give any man the 
 1 double -breasted horrors ' ' 
 for a whole day. There is 
 a most woe-begone, miser 
 able hopelessness in him. 
 
 as he asks your aid in the name of his profession. of 
 printing, the noble art that he, perhaps, may have 
 honored in his better days. Bad luck, or worse liquor. 
 often symptoms of the Litter predominate, combined 
 with a want of self-respect, have reduced him to his 
 present condition. He is no common beggar. There is 
 a something in his tone, as he asks for your aid, that tells 
 plainly it is not his true vocation : that he is forcing his 
 nature into a most unnatural current in asking for assist 
 ance. He has none of the small lies that appear ready- 
 framed on the lips of common beggars. No volcanoes 
 have poured their burning lavas on his head or other 
 property; no furious tornadoes have swept away his 
 earthly hopes and homestead, and driven him forth :i 
 
THE POOR PRINTER. 289 
 
 wanderer ; no overwhelming tide has pursued him relent 
 lessly in other lands to give him a fortune here. But he 
 stands before you, and his appearance pleads for him. 
 He looks like a low case, dusty and pied, or a form 
 picked for sorts and squabbling under the accumulation 
 of indulged dust. There is persuasion in his seedy coat, 
 buttoned to the chin a coat in which a dim gentility 
 struggles to overcome the poverty-clouds or cobwebs that 
 mar it ; there is persuasion in the hat, that venerable tile. 
 whose form of three fashions past indicates certainly as 
 an almanac the date of the declension of his golden days ; 
 there is persuasion in his familiar look at things, and the 
 air that says, "This is nothing new to me I've seen 
 all this before;" there is persuasion much more in the 
 tone of the voice that asks the gift, as if it were a loan, 
 or the return of some money in your keeping for him. 
 There is no servility in his asking, and his story is a 
 direct recital of his troubles. He is sif-k. has a disorder 
 in his head, his wife is dead, his hope has all fled, for days 
 has n't seen a bed, nor had one mouthful of bread, and is 
 quite famish-cef. What a recital ! and you cry, <; Xuf 
 ced ! " and the quarter comes at once from your yielding 
 purse. What a comfortable reflection it is, as we place 
 the coin in his extended hand ! and it forces home a ques 
 tion of great moment, drawn from r< contingency that grows, 
 some think, out of the nature of the art, ' ; Whose turn 
 will come next? " and the richest of the journeymen feels 
 more humble as he ponders on what may happen. 
 
 25 
 
290 MR. SLOW ON GRAVE TOPICS. 
 
 MR. SLOW ON GRAVE TOPICS. 
 
 " 'BiMELECH, my son," said Mr. Slow, shaking hi* 
 head with oracular and owl-like profundity, "it isn't 
 well to know too much, my boy ; your father never did 
 he know'd too much for that. Thoughts is perplexin', 
 and the human mind, 'Bimelcch, is too precious a thing 
 to be wore out with too much friction. Don't abuse the 
 gifts of nater, my son, 'cause nater's one of 'em, she is. 
 Don't inwestigate anything new, my boy, 'cause there ? s 
 a thousand old things of more consekence to look arter 
 the first of which is number one. New notions perplexes 
 the mind, dear there 's full enough fools in the world 
 who like to look arter sich things, without your troublin ? 
 your precious head about 'em 't wouldn't be a cent of 
 benefit to you. Call 'em all humbug and moonshine, 
 and them as believes 'em lunatics and scoundrels, and 
 that '11 save you a good many discussions, and give you 
 a character for dignity and prudence; and prudent folks 
 make money. Phelosophy and scions, and them thing*, 
 is humbugs, and everything is humbug but money. Mind, 
 I tell ye." Mr. Slow ceased, overcome by his own elo 
 quence. 
 
PAYING AN OLD DEBT. 291 
 
 PAYING AN OID DEBT. 
 
 WORKING out a debt is often called '' working a dead 
 horse," and we think not inaptly, the more especially 
 when a man is poor, with a family depending upon him 
 for support ; then a pickaxe becomes a weary thing, and 
 every shovel-full of dirt weighs four times as much as 
 when the heart of the laborer is cheered by the hope of 
 the dollar ahead. But it is well to pay one's debts; 
 though it is far better not to owe anything. a piece of 
 advice that Saint Paul utters with great earnestness, as 
 if he were practically sensible of the disadvantage of 
 indebtedness. 
 
 A man who had run up a long score at a shop for 
 liquor, cigars, and other creature comforts, found himself 
 utterly unable to pay a stiver of it. In vain was he urged 
 to pay the bill, and in vain was he threatened if he 
 did n't ; he had n't any money, the true secret of his 
 getting in debt in the first place, and the creditor gave 
 it up. At last he thought he would compromise the 
 matter, and let the man work the debt out. The cred 
 itor had a large pile of wood in his barn, several cords 
 of it, nicely suwed and split, and he forthwith set the 
 debtor at work to throw the wood into the street and 
 then pile it back again, at the rate of a shilling an hour, 
 until the whole debt should be wiped out. The man 
 took hold with a will, and, in a short time the wood was 
 all in the street ; then it went back with equal celerity, 
 
292 PAYING AN OLD DEBT. 
 
 and then out again and then in ; everybody wondering 
 what it could mean. Some charitably intimated that he 
 was crazy, and others, equally charitable, said he was 
 drunk. He toiled on thus the whole day, throwing the 
 wood back and forth, but every hour seemed full sixty 
 minutes longer than its predecessor, as he watched the 
 clock on the old church in the neighborhood. He was 
 working a dead horse, and it was hard making him go. 
 But the longest road must have an end, and the hour 
 neared when the labor and debt would cease together, 
 and, as the hammer of the clock told the hour of his 
 release, the freed man threw the last stick of wood into 
 the street with a shout of triumph. The shout brought 
 the owner of the wood to the door, who found his late 
 debtor putting on his coat to go away. 
 
 " Halloo ! " said he, "you are not going away without 
 putting the wood back again, arc you? " 
 
 "I ! 11 put it back again for a shilling an hour," said 
 the man. 
 
 The proprietor of the wood saw that he had been done, 
 but good-naturedly totd his late debtor to go. ahead and 
 put it back. He wenc about it : but, strange to say, it 
 took him just three times as long to put it back as it did 
 to throw it out. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON having been asked what the con 
 sequences would be if an irresistible should come in 
 contact with an immovable body, replied that she thought 
 one or t' other of r em would get hurt. 
 
OPERATIC REBUKE. 293 
 
 OPERATIC REBUKE. 
 
 "I CAN'T catch the malady!" said Mrs. Partmgton, at 
 the opera, as she stood upon tiptoe, in the lobby of the 
 Howard Athenaeum, in vain attempting to look over the 
 heads before her. She had received a ticket, but it 
 secured nothing but an outside position, and she had 
 gone wandering round like a jolly planet, without any 
 particular orbit. Ike was in the gallery, eating a pen 
 ny's worth of pea-nuts, and throwing the shells into the 
 parquet below. "I- can't catch the malady of the up 
 roar, and more 'n half the words are all Dutch to me. 
 This is the first opiatic performance I ever went to, and 
 if I can't get a seat, I can't stand it to come agin." 
 
 She said it very firmly. As she was going down the 
 stairs, a young gentleman, with curly hair, reached over 
 the banisters, and blandly informed her that he could 
 furnish her with a seat. She turned her benevolent 
 spectacles, and face attached, towards him, and told him 
 it was rather late, after the evening had half gone, to 
 think of politeness. 
 
 It was a picture ! The young curly head bending over 
 the banister, and the spectacles, and the black bonnet, 
 and the widow of Corporal Paul, on the stairs looking up. 
 It was sublime ! 
 
 25* 
 
294 " SMITH & 
 
 "SMITH 
 
 IT gives us a mournful feeling every time the above 
 sign, on a business street, meets our eye. It is* simply 
 a white pine sign, with the letters upon it done in 
 black. There is nothing peculiar in its construction; 
 but the blank termination, with the ampersand, once 
 the connecting character of a prosperous firm, maybe, 
 but now seeming to exist only with reference to some 
 future contingency, denotes separation, and thus, as 
 indicating this, the sign becomes an important " sign of 
 the times." The name that formerly graced it, though 
 no longer needed there, is still to be traced through the 
 white coat spread over it, as if yet asserting its claim to 
 consideration. " Alas ! poor ghost ! " It is better to 
 let Smith have it all to himself. 
 
 What caused the separation? Did the "Jones/' 
 whom we see dimly through the white lead, which covers 
 him like a shroud, "shuffle off this mortal coil," and 
 leave Smith there alone, like a boy tilting on one end of 
 a plank ? Had Jones a wife and children ; and do they 
 yet look up wistfully at the sign as they pass it by, as if 
 with a sort of undefined hope in their minds that Jones 
 may be in there somewhere now? Or do they weep as 
 they gaze upon it at its suggestion of their own loneli 
 ness? Or has the widow forgotten, long ago, the man 
 under the mould, and another Jones, with another name, 
 taken his place in the domestic firm ? Or does she yet 
 
SMITH & .*' 295 
 
 stand, like the ampersand on the sign, beckoning some 
 other Jones to write his name on the blank space in her 
 heart, and begin anew 1 
 
 It may have been a separation in strife, where uncon- 
 geniality of mind, temper, and habits, engendered bitter 
 ness, and the hours flew by freighted with mutual curses 
 upon the ill-starred union of " Smith & Jones," and 
 separation was the result. How happy were they, may 
 be, at the beginning, as they sat down to talk over their 
 business schemes, while Hope "Md her candle for them 
 as they ciphered out a path to fortune through the 
 intricacies of trade, talking as lovers talk ; never 
 dreaming, like lovers, that the elements might exist in 
 themselves for the destruction of their hopes and happi 
 ness ! We can fancy the bitter days, the reproaches, 
 abuse, and violence, that ended in the painter's brush 
 upon the sign, and the announcement in the Post, of 
 " dissolution." But why is that ampersand left there ? 
 Does Smith, with his bitter experience, want another 
 Jones to torment him ? 
 
 Perhaps Smith & Jones were well-meaning men, who 
 tried the firm on and found it unable to carry double, 
 and then divided, good-naturedly, and are now carrying 
 on trade, each by himself, and each happy in a knowl 
 edge of the good qualities of the other ; each ready to 
 endorse the other's note ; each having fur the other a 
 cordial salutation when meeting, and " How are ye. 
 Smith?" and " How are ye, Jones?" sounding heart 
 ily, as if they meant something more than the words 
 usually imply, and inquiring about each other's business 
 with as much earnestness as formerly, when together; 
 
296 OLD ROGER IX AX OMXIBU?. 
 
 each referring to that time with satisfaction, and speak 
 ing of '* my old partner Smith " or " Jones" with 
 affection and respect. It is some comfort to conjure up 
 a picture like this, and we regret that ;; Jones '* should 
 he "cut off" in his goodlier. 
 
 "Smith & ! " We don't like to see it, any 
 
 how. If " Smith " should choose to let his name stand 
 there forever, as now, he may do so if he can, nobody 
 can hinder him, or will want to. But Smith should not 
 allow that ampersand to remain there, as if hinting at 
 something it is afraid to say, trembling upon the verge 
 of it, and holding back without venturing upon it. The 
 bond is broken that united the twain, and why should 
 Mr. Smith offend our chaste eye by leaving that amper 
 sand to drag along behind his name, now there is no use 
 for it, like the end of a broken chain beneath a cart? 
 
 " PULL away, ma'am, pull away ! " said old Roger, 
 in the omnibus, as lie saw a heavy lady dragging vigor 
 ously at the check-string : " another such a jerk as that 
 and he must come through." 
 
 " Through where? " asked she sharply. 
 
 " Why, through the hole there, to be sure ; you 
 were trying to get him through it, was n't you?" 
 
 " No, I was n't ; I was only stopping the horses, Mr. 
 Impudence." 
 
 "0," said the old gentleman, "was that all? excuse 
 me." 
 
 She ot out. and the 'bus moved on. 
 
A WOMAN THAT OS E COULD LOVE. 297 
 
 A WOMAN THAT OXE COULD LOVE. 
 
 " Now, there is a woman that one could love," said 
 old Roger, delightedly, as he saw a figure, arrayed in 
 the full feather of fashion, in a window in Washington 
 
 ' O 
 
 street. "A long life could be spent very quietly in 
 such company; no quarrelling for precedence; no jeal 
 ousy ; no strife of any kind; no teasing for dress and 
 follies, till one's purse-strings ache in sympathy with 
 aching heart-strings, at unchecked extravagance. Even 
 I could love such a woman as that." 
 
 " Perhaps you could," responded a sweet voice at his 
 side ; " but would it love you back again, think you ? 
 There would be no return for your investment of affec 
 tion here in this heartless thing, this mere frame ; you 
 should turn your attention to something worthy of your 
 love, where, for a small outlay of affection, a tenfold 
 return would be made you in domestic joy." 
 
 "Alas!" said the old bachelor, " where shall I find 
 this?" 
 
 But the beautiful eyes that met his proved how easily 
 the question might be answered ; and, with a melancholy 
 step, he passed along. He was more a bachelor from 
 habit than from choice, after all. 
 
298 
 
 INTRODUCING THE WATER. 
 
 INTRODUCING THE WATER. 
 
 LESS me ! " exclaimed 
 Mrs. Partington. 
 coming in out of 
 breath, and drop 
 ping down into a 
 chair, like a jolly 
 old kedge anchor, 
 at the same time 
 funning herself with 
 an imaginary fan. 
 She did not say 
 "Bless me," be 
 cause she was in 
 want of any partic 
 ular blessing at that time ; it was merely an ejaculation 
 of hers, expressive of deep emotion. " Bless me ! " said 
 she, " I don't see why the Water Commissionarics were so 
 much worried and fretted about introducing the Cochitu- 
 ate water for ; I think it is the easiest thing in the world 
 to get acquainted with. Look at that bonnet, now/' 
 holding up the antiquated, but well-preserved bit o' crape, 
 dripping with watery drops, like the umbrella of Aqua 
 rius; " look at that bonnet, now ! ruined to all tents and 
 porpoises by the pesky water- works. Introduce it, in 
 deed ! " continued she, ironically, looking severely at the 
 wrecked article in her hand. i: 'ta'n't no use of introducing 
 
INTRODUCING THE WATER. 209 
 
 all acquaintance that makes so free with you at first 
 sight." 
 
 She arose to hang up her bonnet, when Ike, who was 
 hanging upon the back of her chair, fell heavily against 
 the window, and thrust the rear portion of his person 
 through four panes of glass. [ 
 
 " 0, Isaac ! " said she, " you "11 be the ruination of 
 me. If I was rich as Creosote I could n't stand it." 
 
 Isaac gathe/od himself from among the fragments of 
 glass, and seemed quite tickled with an idea that he could 
 sell the pieces, in conjunction with a reserve of old iron 
 and half of the clothes-line and three junk bottles, tc 
 raise funds for the Fourth of July. 
 
800 R,\TIIER FUNNY. >N iNK STRING. 
 
 RATHER FUNNY. 
 
 OLD ROGER was standing in State street, and saw an 
 Irishman rolling a keg of specie from his cart to the 
 institution for which it was intended. 
 
 " There," said the old fellow to a. foreign gentleman 
 who was standing by him, ' there you see the benefit of 
 our free institutions ; there is a man who came to this 
 country six months ago. as poor as poor could be, and 
 now, you see, b n is'actually rolling in riches ! ?? 
 
 He said this, and turned round, very red in the face, 
 and struck his cane several times violently on the side 
 walk, and waited for his friend to explode. Hearing no 
 sound of cachinnation, he turned and found the gentleman 
 vainly endeavoring to decipher the emblems on the 
 Merchants' Exchange. He evidently had n't understood 
 the joke. 
 
 . 
 ON ONE STRING. 
 
 " THE Prayer of Moses executed on one string ! " said 
 Mrs. Partington. " Praying. I s'pose, to be cut down. 
 Poor Moses!" sighed she; "executed on one string! 
 Well, I don't know as ever I heard of anybody's being 
 executed on two strings, unless the rope broke ; ?> and 
 she went on wondering how it could be. 
 
THE LKJHT. oOl 
 
 SEEKING THE LIGHT. 
 
 " I DECLARE, I don't know what. to think on it!" said 
 Mrs. Partington, as she looked intently into the water- 
 pail. The attitude was peculiar, and the iron-bowed 
 specs were on duty, like a sentry on a bridge, keeping a 
 bright look-out over the water. 
 
 " I can't see into it." 
 
 This was wrong if we take it literally, because the wa 
 ter was as pure and transparent as her own benevolence. 
 
 4i I can't 'see into it, and the more I preponderate upon 
 it, the more I T m in a bewildcrness. -How Mr. Paine can 
 make light of ?;uter is more than t can see, I can't 
 throw no light on it. I know it T s made of some sort of 
 gin. My poor Paul's head used to be made light by gin 
 and water, but it did n't burn, as they say this will.'' 
 
 Her listeners stood hatless, almost breathless, as her 
 voice came up through her cap-border, like the steam 
 from around the cover of a wash-boilerj while Ike put 
 the experiment to a practical test by pouring a dipper of 
 water into the stove. 
 26 
 
802 SMKLLtSU VIRTUOUS. HIE PRESS. 
 
 JUDGING VIRTUE BY ITS SMELL. 
 
 "!T smells virtuous," said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 smelt of the hartshorn-bottle that had long lain away in 
 an old-fashioned high closet, before which the old lady 
 stood, on a tall chair, exploring the dark interior of the 
 receptacle for " unconsidered trifles." "It smells vir 
 tuous." \Ve had often heard of the peculiar odor of 
 goodness, that rises like frankincense amid an atmos 
 phere of vice ; and here was a practical application that 
 attested the justness of the term. It was sublime ! and 
 the figure standing there on the high chair, like Truth 
 on a pedestal, with the specs, and the close cap, and the 
 blue yarn stockings, formed a subject for a sculptor, 
 poorer than which had immortalized hundreds. 
 
 ABUSES OF THE PRESS. 
 
 "THE printing-press is a great steam-cngino," said 
 Mrs. Partington ; " but I dor/t believe Dr. Franklin 
 ever invented it to commit outrages on a poor female 
 woman like me. It makes me say everything, Mrs. 
 Sled ; and some of the things I know must have been 
 said when I was out, for I can't remember ? em;" and she 
 dropped three stitches in her excitement. " They ought 
 to think." continued she, " that them who makes sport 
 of the aged don't never live to grow up." 
 

 
MOUSE- 11UNTINU. 
 
 MOUSE-HUNTING; 
 
 AN INCIDENT IN TIIJ3 LIFE OF MRS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 IT was midnight, deep and still, in the mansion of 
 Mrs. Partington, as it was, very generally, about 
 town, on a cold night in March. So profound was 
 the silence that it awakened Mrs. P., and she raised 
 herself upon her elbow to listen. No sound greeted her 
 ears, save the tick of the old wooden clock in the next 
 room, which steod there in the dark, like an old chrone, 
 whispering and gibbering to itself. Mrs. Partington re 
 lapsed beneath the folds of the blankets, and had one 
 eye again well-coaxed towards the realm of dreams, while 
 the other was holding by a very frail tenure upon the 
 world of reality, when Ler ear was saluted by the nibble 
 of a mouse, directly beneath her chamber window, and 
 the mouse was evidently gnawing her chamber carpet. 
 
 Now, if there is an animal in the catalogue cf creation 
 that she dreads and detests, it is a mouse ; and she has 
 a vague and indefinite idea that rats and mice were made 
 with especial regard to her individual torment. As she 
 heard the sound of tlu> nibble by the window, she arose 
 again upon her eltaw. and cried " Shoo ! Shoo ! " ener 
 getically, several times. The sound ceased, and she 
 fondly fancied that her trouble was over. Again she 
 laid herself away as carefully as she would have lain 
 eggs at forty-five cents a dozen, when, nibble, nibble, 
 nibble! she once more heard the odious sound bv the 
 
304 MOUSK-HUNTIXiJ. 
 
 window. " Shoo / " cried the old lady again, at the 
 same time hurling her shoe at the spot from whence the 
 sound proceeded, where the little midnight marauder was 
 carrying on his depredations. 
 
 A light hurned upon the hearth, she could n't sleep 
 without a light, and she strained her eyes in vain to 
 catch a glimpse of her tormentor playing about amid the 
 shadows of the room. All again was silent, and the 
 clock, giving an admonitory tremble, struck twelve. 
 Midnight! and Mrs. Partington counted tho tintinabulous 
 knots as they ran off the reel of Time, with a saddened 
 heart. 
 
 Nibble, nibble, nibble! again that sound. The 
 old lady sighed, as she hurled the other shoe at her 
 invisible annoyance. It was all without avail, and 
 "shooing 7 ' was bootless, for the sound came again to 
 her wakeful ear. At this point her patience gave out, 
 and, coiwiuering her dread of the cold, she arose and 
 opened the door of her room that led to a corridor, when, 
 taking the light in one hand, and a shoe in the other, 
 she made the circuit of the room, and explored every 
 nook and cranny in which a mouse could ensconsc him 
 self. She looked under the bed, and under the old chest 
 of drawers, and under the washstand, and li shooed" 
 until she could ;: shoo " no more. 
 
 The reader's own imagination, if he has an imagina 
 tion skilled in limning, must draw the picture of the old 
 lady while upon this exploring expedition, " accoutred 
 as she was," in search of the ridiculous mouse. We 
 have our own opinion upon the subject, and must say. 
 with all due deference to the years and virtues of 
 
MOUSE-HUNTING. . 305 
 
 Mrs. P., anil with all 'regard for personal attractions 
 very striking in one of her years, we should judge 
 that she cut a very queer figure, indeed. 
 
 Satisfying herself that the mouse must have left the 
 room, she closed the door, deposited the light upon the 
 hearth, and again sought repose. I low gratefully a 
 warm bed feels, when exposure to the night air has 
 chilled us, as we crawl to its enfolding jovert ! How 
 we nestle down, like an infant by its mother's breast, 
 and own no joy superior to that we feel, coveting no 
 regal luxury while revelling in the elysium of feathers ! 
 So felt Mrs. P. as she again ensconced herself in bed. 
 The clock in the next room struck one. 
 
 She was again near the attainment of the state when 
 dreams arc rife, when, close by her chamber-door, out 
 side she heard that hateful nibble renewed which had 
 marred her peace before. With a groan she arose, and, 
 seizing her lamp, she opened the door, and had the sat 
 isfaction to hear the mouse drop, step by step, until he 
 reached the floor below. . Convinced that she was now 
 rid of him for the night, she returned to bed, and 
 addressed herself to sleep. The room grew dim, in the 
 weariness of her spirit, the chest of drawers in the corner 
 was fast losing its identity and becoming something else ; 
 
 in a moment more nibble, nibble, nibble! again 
 
 outside of the chanibei -door, as the clock in the next 
 room struck two. 
 
 Anger, disappointment, desperation, fired her mind 
 with a new determination. Once more she arose, but 
 this time she put on a shoe! her dexter shoe. Omin 
 ous movement f It is said that when a woman wets her 
 2G* 
 
30G MOUSE-HU.NTIXG. 
 
 finger fleas had better flee. The star of that mouse's 
 destiny was setting, and was now near the horizon. She 
 opened the door quickly, and, as she listened a moment, 
 she heard him drop again from stair to stair, on a speedy 
 passage down. 
 
 The entry below was closely secured, and no door was 
 open to admit of his escape. This she knew, and a 
 triumphant gleam shot athwart her features, revealed by 
 the rays of the lamp. She went slowly down the stairs, 
 until she arrived at the floor below, where, snugly in a 
 corner, with his little bead-like black eyes looking up at 
 her roguishly, was the gnawer of her carpet, and the 
 annoyer of her comfort. She moved towards him, and 
 he, not coveting the closer acquaintance, darted by her. 
 She pursued him to the other end of the entry, and 
 again he passed by her. Again and again she pursued 
 him, with no better success. At last, when in most 
 doubt as to which side would conquer, Fortune, perched 
 upon the banister, turned the scale in favor of Mrs. I*. 
 The mouse, in an attempt to run by her, presumed too 
 much upon former success. He came too near her 
 upraised foot. It fell upon his inusipilar beauties, like 
 an avalanche of snow upon a new tile, and he was dead 
 forever ! Mrs. Partington gazed upon him as he lay 
 before her. Though she was glad at the result, she 
 could but sigh at the necessity which impelled the vio 
 lence; but for which the mouse might have long contin 
 ued a blessing to the society in which he moved. 
 
 Slowly and sadly she marched up stairs, 
 
 With her shoe all sullied and gory ; 
 And the watch, who saw 't through the front door squares, 
 
 Told us this part of the story. 
 
. 
 
 SrAR-GAZINli. 307 
 
 That mouse did not trouble Mrs. Partington again 
 that night, and the old clock in the next room struck 
 three before sleep again visited the eyelids of the relict 
 of Corporal Paul. 
 
 STAR-GAZISG. 
 
 OUT beneath the starry Leavings Mr, Slow took his 
 son, ^vbimelech, to point out to him to read to him 
 from the broad page of nature the wonders of 
 
 ** The spacious furnishment on high," 
 
 as he called it. 
 
 "All these T crc stars, my son," said Mr. S., pointing 
 up to the studded sky above them, i: that you see up 
 there, stationary and immovable, marchin' along in sub 
 lime grande'r, and winking at the earth with their jolly 
 yeller eyes, like gold eagles, them are called fixed 
 stars ; ' and " 
 
 " But what's that, father?" said young Abimelech, 
 as a meteor, like a racer, darted across the southerly 
 
 Mr. Slow was prompt with his answer. 
 "That," said he, "I guess, is one of 'em that's got 
 unfixed" ; 
 
308 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTON ON MOUNT VESUVIUS. 
 
 MRS. P. ON MOUNT VESUVIUS. 
 
 
 anotner rupture of 
 Mount Y oc iferous! J : said Mrs. 
 l'artington } as she put clown the 
 paper and put up her specs. " The 
 paper tells all about the burning 
 lather running down the mountain, but it don't tell us 
 
 O 
 
 how it got afire. I wonder if it was set fire to. There 
 are many people full wicked enough to do it. or, perhaps, 
 it was caused by children playing with frictions matches. 
 I wish they had sent for our firemen: they would 
 soon have put a stop to the raging aliment; and I dare 
 say Mr. Barnacle, and all of ? cin, would have gone, for 
 they are what I call real civil engineers." 
 
 There was a whole broadside of commendation of the 
 fire department in the impressive gesture accompanying 
 her words. "Time and space" for a moment became anni 
 hilated, and imagination figured the city engines pouring 
 their subduing streams upon the flames of Vesuvius, 
 and "Hold on, seving!" "Ereak her down, twelve!" 
 rising above the vain roarings of the smothering crater. 
 
THE PIC-NIC. 309 
 
 THE PIC-MC: 
 
 A GRAND DOMESTIC DRAMA, 
 
 JX JfAXY ACT*. 
 
 In which are detailed the Fun and Drawback* attending a Pleasur* 
 Excursion in the town of Bozzleton. 
 
 PERSONS IS THE DRAMA. 
 
 Mr. Homespun Who has s -m 'thins t> say to all, ami about everybody. 
 Jemima Short A sweet little c-mntry rose. 
 Mr. Blisby A gentleman fr >m the city. 
 
 Miss Primrose A refine 1 luly of thirty-flvo, full of sentiment and some snuff. 
 Mr. Brindle A lachelor of fifty-eight ami a justice of the peace. 
 Miss Pidgin A bird too touj.'h for sentiment. 
 Auxiliaries, Horses, Pigeon Pie, 4fC., by the company. 
 
 The morn is bright in Bozzlcton, and kindly beams the sun, 
 And spreads his choicest rays around as if lie d remit uf fun ; 
 The girls are up and wide awake, the lads are spruce and g.iy, 
 For a pic-nlc party is arranged fur this bright summer day. 
 
 AND won't we have a time of it? Just see the bag 
 
 of doujjh-nuts that Jemima Short has thrown out of the 
 o 
 
 window into the wagon ! And there go three chickens, 
 and four pies, and a jug of cider. Goodness gracious. 
 Jemima ! You are an angel of a provider, you are \ 
 You don't mean to put us on a regiment to-day, do you } 
 You look like an airthly goddess, too, in your new pink 
 calico. I vow, it looks first-rate I took it for chin- 
 chilli a rod off. 
 
 Jemima. "I don't know I don't think much of it, 
 but folks tells me it 's becoming. Miss Jeems, the milli 
 ner, got the pattern from the city, and " 
 
310 THE PIC-XIC. 
 
 How de do, Miss Short 7 Gwine to the pic-nic? 
 
 Mrs. S. (with a cold in her head.) " No, guess not ; 
 don't feel smart, 'zactly, and the old man r s got the 
 romantic affection in his leg, and can't go nuther; but 
 Mima is gwine ; she bis had her hair in papers a whole 
 week to make her look pretty." 
 
 Jemima. ;i Why. mother ! how you do talk ! But 
 here they come 0. what a host of 'em ! How proud 
 Betsey Babh feels of Irer new dress ! I guess some folks 
 can look full as well as some folks : and there ? s that 
 everlasting old maid, Miss Pidgin : how I hate her with 
 her scraggy neck and long tongue ! And there 's Patty 
 Sprigg's city beau 0, I wouldn't be her to be seen 
 with such a fright ! " 
 
 The wagons packed with eatable* go groaning o'er the road, 
 The long carts filled with girls and beaus show nn attractive load, 
 And laughter rules the pleasant hour, and eyes shine gay and bright, 
 The only kind of stars that show as well by day as night. 
 
 Laughter! guess you VI think so to hear it. Now the 
 cart settles down into a rut. :: Dear me," says Mis* 
 Tibbs. i: we shall all be upsot, tipsy turvy : do hold on 
 to me ! " and then everybody thinks they must be held 
 on to ; and everybody el.se is trying to hold on to some 
 body. 0, how frightened the city beauty is ! u Do you 
 apprehend any danger of a tergiversation ? " " No," says 
 Jo Hays, "the slack men look arter them things, and 
 everybody 's noclated for it." 
 
 Female Voice. " Be still, won't you ! O, you satan ! 
 sec how you have tumbled my collar with your pesky 
 nonsense ; and my face burns like fire-coals. Right be 
 fore a city gentleman too ; 0, for shame ! " 
 
THE PIC-NIC. 311 
 
 City Gent. " Upon my honor, miss, I was entirely 
 oblivious to any impropriety." 
 
 " O, ? t was n't very improper either, he, he, he ; only 
 such things should n't be done publicly, you know." 
 
 'Miss Pidgin. - "If Susan Fry is n't setting on Sam 
 Sled's knees, I a'n't a living sinner ! Such conduct I 
 must think improper, /never was guilty of such indis 
 cretion, / never was ! " 
 
 Boys singing 
 
 ' There 'a fun in a country cart, 
 
 Ami life on a dusty road, 
 Where mirth warms every heart, 
 
 And plc:isurc finds abode : 
 The town may boast of its joys, 
 
 Its racket and its din, 
 But give a haunt awuy from its noise, 
 
 Some quiet nook within." 
 
 . Far from the busy din of town, in some secluded grove, 
 The happy party sit them down, or unrestricted rove ; 
 All austere rules that bind the world urc here thrown fir aside, 
 And revelling in mirth's bright beam, how Heet the moments glide ! 
 
 Arm-in-arm under the shady trees they now wander, 
 picking posies or bright berries and stir/i fun ! Miss 
 Primrose smiles languidly a sort of sky-blue benignity 
 upon old Brindle, the bachelor. 
 
 Miss Primrose, (sentimentally.) "How delight 
 fully those pines sigh in the gentle breeze, like the soft 
 music of love in the car of youth ! " 
 Old Brindle. " Yes'm, so it does." 
 Miss P. " 0, I do so love the pines ! ?t 
 Old B. " They 're better in May, mum. when the 
 sliver is thick and creamy. Come out here then, marm 
 
312 THE PIC-NIC. 
 
 3ut with your jack-knife, throw away your tobacco, cut 
 out a square, and sliver up the tree allers sliver up, 
 marm some slivers down. Thcn's when you'd like the 
 pines, mum." 
 
 Miss P. '"'- That 's an entirely new aspect ; I meant 
 their romantic beauty." 
 
 Old B. " Yes' in beautiful wood, very; worth 
 four dollars a cord in Boston." 
 
 Here come Patty Sprig and the musty-choked man 
 from the city. 
 
 Cit. " Miss Spwig, how delightfully ruwal it is 
 here ! Always thought I should like to live among the 
 beauties of Nachurc. It's a great pity we can't have 
 anynachure in town, a great pity. I've heard of some 
 human nachure round there, but never saw any of it." 
 
 Patty. <: I should think they might bring it in by 
 pipes, as they did the Cochituate." 
 
 Cit. " Are those gwound-nuts ? " 
 
 Patty. "No, dear me, no: don't cat ? em; they're 
 toadstools." 
 
 Thus we go on, chatting, walking, 
 
 Voices ringing with the pines, 
 Nothing our gay fancies bulking, 
 
 Doing all our heart inclines. 
 
 Now on the green and ber.ateous sod the varied viands spread, 
 And appetite shall wait on health, and wit its influence shed ; 
 The social tongue with music rife blonds with the platter's noise, 
 As earth's rude jarring interferes with its harmonious joys. 
 
 " Here ? s tongue, and ham, and sausages, and pumkin 
 pie, and cheese. Mercy, what a bill of fare ! Miss 
 Peewit shall I help you to a piece of tongue ? '* - No, 
 
THE PIC-NIC. 31 o 
 
 thank you, I have enough of my own. But I '11 trouble 
 you for a piece of the chicken. 7 ' ' ; Chicken, did you 
 say ? From his toughness I should say he was a grand 
 father to thousands ! " 
 
 " Pass the pigeon yonder, will you ? " 
 
 "'What, the old maid ? '' 
 
 " No. no, the pie/;' 
 
 " There *.s the plate ' the pigeon is unavoidably de 
 tained." 
 
 Miss Pidgin. " I 'd thank people who use my 
 name to speak so that I can hear ; I don't like to be 
 backbitten." 
 
 u We were speaking of pigeon pie, mcm' ? - something 
 more tender (Aside). 
 
 "Say, Tom, what have you got in the dish there/" 
 
 " Pickled grasshoppers, I should think. Will you have 
 some?" 
 
 " Miss Primrose, do allow me to help you ; here 's 
 some ham, delicate as your own nature, ma'am.'' 
 
 Miss P. " I declare, you arc quite complimentary f 
 Comparing my nature with smoked hog ! '' 
 
 u Will Mr. Blisby, the gentleman from the city, favor 
 us with a song? Silence, 4 ye gentlemen and ladies all 
 that grace this famous ' pic-nic ; Mr. Blisby is going to 
 sing." 
 
 Mr. B. ".I 'd rather be excused ; but though I am 
 not exactly in tune, I '11 endeavor for the occasion." 
 
 Mr. Blisby sings : 
 
 '* My love is fair, 0, she is fair ! 
 
 Her lips are reel, her eyes like sloe, 
 A golden glory is her hair, 
 Falling o'er ihotiMerj nhit^ a- nmr. 
 
 27 
 
814 TI1E PIC-NIC. 
 
 And when her eyes upon me turn, 
 And burn with radiance divine, 
 My ardent gaze encounters hern, 
 The same as hern encounters mine/' 
 
 Child, yelling. " Mother, ^give me a mither pieth 
 ov pie ! " 
 
 Mother. Hush, my darling, there a'n't any. 7 ' 
 Boy. "I tuny there ith ; I wunth a pieth ov pie ! " 
 
 ** 0, such a mingling, 
 . - Of talfuiig and jingling;* 
 
 The noise and giee 
 Sound merrily, 
 And set our tars a tingling.'* 
 
 A d mce ! a d.incc ! and gleefully a set is forthwith planned, 
 
 A fiddly most mysteriously has happened here at hand' ; 
 
 And here beneath the d irk tree's shade, with leaves and berries crowned, 
 
 Each happy lad auti laughing maid whirl in the d.inc? around. 
 
 li Go it, my top sawyer on the pussy-gut ! Work your 
 elbows lively, and we '11 put her through by daylight !" 
 4; O, dear ! I *m all of a perspiration with sweat. How 
 slippery it is under foot ! *' ''It a'n't slippery anywheres 
 cLs." " I swow to man, there s Bill Nutter and Jemima 
 Short both down ! Up and try it again, clumsys! M 
 
 Miss Pn'/nrose. t; How these old woods echo with 
 the music. Mr. Brindb, like the Arcadian groves, with 
 ihe dul-jet Motes of the Satires ! ;? . 
 
 jjlr. &. ' ; I never lieerd of 'em ; I guess they never 
 was in these woods they never was that I can remem 
 ber." 
 
 ;< I declare, there 'd Mr. Blisby dancing like an nni- 
 
THE PIC-NIC. 31 f> 
 
 mated bean-pole. Ha! ha! ha! he 'a on all-fours 
 Now all he wants is a tail/ 7 
 
 Then moving to the tuning of the fiddle and the bow, 
 How sparkles every eye with mirth as round and round we go .' 
 No ball-room artistes now are here to circumscribe our sport, 
 And Nature smiles approvingly, for here she holds her court 
 
 A lake romintic lying nenr tempts to its cooling vale, 
 And tiny boats in swift career across its bosom sail ; 
 And waving handkerchiefs respond in answer to the song 
 That, rising from the venturers, is borne the breeze along. 
 
 <; Jump into the boat, Patty ; not the least danger iu 
 the world of its tipping over." " 0, my ! I ? vc got my 
 shoe all satiated with water. I shall get my death a 
 cold." " You 've got your foot in it this time, that T s a 
 fact" 
 
 Mr. Blisby. -"Is there any danger of sea-siek- 
 ne*7 ' 
 
 " Now just see that boat how she scoots it ! I vow 
 if Patty Sprig has n ? t got hold of the bow oar, and pulls 
 away like a little satan. If I thought that spindle-shank 
 from the city was going to have that gal, 1 7 d cut hi* 
 eternal acquaintance, I would. I e'cnamost said 
 throat, but that would be manslaughter: and I don't 
 see how it could be. neither, for killing such a thing as 
 
 he is." 
 
 A Voice. *' Some love to roam 
 
 O'er the dark sea's foam, 
 Where the shrill winds whistle free." 
 
 " Well, they do. Hallo ! here 'a Jim Sly. What 
 have you got in that bottle, old fellow? Haven't seen 
 you to-day afore." 
 
316 THE PIC-NIC. 
 
 Jim Sly (drunk), "I've got some c-c-cough- 
 drops to c-c-cure the sea-sickness with a little rum 
 t-t-t-tea with s-s-some spcrrit in it to k-k-keep it." 
 
 Stilly Ticist. his street hen rt. " You Jim Sly, you 
 drunken, miserable fellow, you you sot you brute 
 you individual you you you Jim Sly" 
 
 Jl m . "Go it, S-S-Sal, and I '11 hold yer b-b-bonnet ' 
 What yer goin' to d-d-do 'bout it 1 " 
 
 Stilly. ' You '11 see when we get home, you sot 
 you brute you vagabone ! " 
 
 Sum. " Let her lean, elder 
 
 ' Wine cures the gout, l*>ys, 
 The colic, and the ' 
 
 sea-sickness. Who cares for S-S- Sail ? " 
 
 " Can you tell me, Jemima, why Miss Pidgin yonder 
 is like forty-nine big apples ? " " No, I 'm sure I can't, 
 unless it's 'cause she 's sour." "No, 'ta'n't it; it's 
 'cause she 's a vergin' nigh fifty."' 
 
 But gracious ! what an awful cloud has risen in the west ! 
 And what a frightful lightning flush then swept across its breast ! 
 I feel a drop upon my hand the pine trees rock and roar 
 The waves like blacks, with nightcaps on, rush madly to the shore ! 
 
 " 0, what shall we do! where shall we go? what 
 will become of us?" screams everybody. "Do, dea 
 Mr. Wiggin," says Miss Pidgin, u tell us what we shah 
 do?" 
 
 Mr. Wiggin. " Why, 't aVt no use to run 's I 
 see, for the rain is here, and there a'n't a house within a 
 mile ; and my 'pinion is that we get in the woods and 
 make ourselves comfortable." 
 
THE PIC-NIC. 317 
 
 " But don't the lightnin' always strike trees?" 
 "There's more danger from your eyes, Jemima. 
 
 Lightnings attracted by anything bright; you'd better 
 
 shut 7 em up." 
 
 Jemima. " Your wit is n't bright enough to attract 
 
 it. any how, Mr. Impudence f How does that strike 
 
 ye?" 
 
 Old Mrs. Fog. " 0, that folks should joke and 
 
 trifle so, when there *s so much to make 'em solemn ! 
 
 A T n ? t yon afruid the thunder '11 kill you ? And where 
 
 would you go if you died a laughing?*' 
 
 
 
 The ruin pours down in torrent force among the forest shades, 
 And timid men the closer cling to timid, shrinking maids ; 
 The whitened cheek and blenching eye denote the force of fear, 
 And many a head bows low with dread the thunder loud to hear. 
 
 "Well, this is a comfort ! See where Miss Primrose 
 has cornered old Brindle cheek-by-jowl. That 's right. 
 Go it, old gall ! My eyes ! how it rains ! If Pun is the 
 presiding genius of these woods, in my opinion he 's a 
 dripping Pan." 
 
 Old Brindle " Young man, I r m a justice of the 
 peace in this 'ere jurisdiction, and if you commit that 
 agin, I shall commit you for contempt of court. " 
 
 ; Here comes Jim Sly through the wet, pitching like 
 a mackerel-catcher in a chop sea. Hallo. Jim. here's 
 Polly, like a widowed hen, refusing to be comforted." 
 
 Jim (sobered). " Sally, will ye forgive me? " 
 
 Sally. " No, you disreputable individual. To think 
 that you should go away, and and leave me to 
 boo hoo boo " 
 
318 THE ric-xir. 
 
 Ji m . There, don't cry, and I '.11 go and take the 
 totetal pledge, Maine liquor law and all, and become a 
 useful membrane of society, and if I drink any more, I 
 hope I may never starve ! " 
 
 " See, Mr. Blisby, while we are soaking, how the 
 horses outside are smoking." 
 
 Mr. B. <; Do horses in the country smoke? " 
 
 " Yes, and we 've got a filly at home who throws all 
 that choose to back her/' 
 
 " You don't say so ! " 
 
 Thus, while the rain is pouring so, 
 
 Fun may mingle with our fear : 
 And, while the wind is roaring so, 
 
 Still may waken words of cheer. 
 
 The rain clears up, the burnished sun comes oat with scorching ray, 
 Dispelling from the sky aul heirt all shapes of gloom away, 
 And laughter now bursts forth once more in cheerful, merry peal, 
 And *' Homo Again " is sung with glee as o'er the road we wheel. 
 
 " Are you all comfortable ? Sit close as possible. 
 Here we go f And now, on the road for home, let us be 
 merry as we can be. Miss Pidgin, did you enjoy your 
 duck '.' " " You are a goose, sir, to talk so." " Miss 
 Primrose, you look refreshed since your sprinkling from 
 nature's water-pot. Mr. Blisby, this is fine a subject 
 for a letter, Mr. Blisby. Jemima, my dear, you look as 
 blooming as the rose in June, and twice as sweet. There 's 
 the Bozzleton factory rising above the trees, and the old 
 vane, like vanity, pluming itself in the sunshine. Hurrah 
 for home ! Old lady with the mob-eap, take your head 
 in doors. Urchins in corduroys, scatter. Young maiden 
 with the milking-pail, irho are you looking at 1 " 
 
AN EXCELLENT TEST OF AFFECTION. 
 
 Mr. Blisby (rising). " Before we part, I should 
 like to say that the pleasure I have experienced has far 
 exceeded my expectations, and that I shall always enter 
 tain a pleasing recollection of the delightful moments 
 spent in this in this hay-cart ! " 
 
 "Three cheers for Blisby ! Ladies and gentlemen, if 
 it is your opinion that we have enjoyed ourselves (a 
 great way over the sinister), you will please to manifest 
 it. Yes ! Then we 'U adjourn with the chorus 
 
 Some seek for glee by the heaving sea, 
 
 Some rush on a railroad tr.iin, 
 But give us a p irt on a country cirt, 
 
 And a pic QIC out in the rain ! " 
 
 Exeunt Omnibus, a. c. B. 
 
 AN EXCELLENT TEST OF AFFECTION. 
 
 summer is no time to try the strength of affec 
 tion," said Mrs. Partington; ' : though it's pretty well 
 to sing love songs beneath a window at midnight, in a 
 rain-storm, or stand billing and cooling on the door-step 
 till two o'clock in the morning. The winter season is 
 the one. Many's the time my poor Paul has rid five 
 miles to see me, the coldest weather ; and often, the dear 
 crctur has been found in the morning fast asleep in the 
 middle of the cow-yard, with the saddle on his own 
 shoulders, from fatigue with courting me, and riding a 
 hard-trotting horse. There was devotion ! I never see 
 a cow without thinking of poor Paul ;" and, saying 
 which, the good old l;idy went to bed. 
 
820 
 
 liHilMiCTCll V9. POLITENESS. 
 
 HIGH -DUTCH 
 
 rx. 
 
 I'OLITE.VESS. 
 
 AS the Washington street 
 train gone by here?" 
 asked Mrs. Turlington of 
 a gentleman with a huge 
 mustache, who stood pick- 
 ing his teeth on the steps 
 >. of the Revere House. The 
 ^ old lady meant the Wash 
 ington street omnibus that 
 runs between the Lowell 
 depot and Dover street 
 The gentleman still picked 
 his teeth, and looked grave 
 ly at her, but said not a word. u Has the Washington 
 street train passed by here 1 " she asked again, thinking 
 the gentleman had n't heard her. lie still stood, and stood 
 still, and looked and picked, but said nothing. " Well ! r ' 
 said the old dame, half musing and half addressing the 
 man with the mustache; ;: it was only a civil question, 
 and I did n't think there was anything harmonious in 
 asking it : but .vo/w people thinks it a great hardship to 
 do any one a favor. It would n't have required much 
 effort. I should think, to have answered me, nor took :\ 
 great deal of anybody's time, nor interfered with any 
 body's occupancy. If anybody has got f<K';il organs I 
 think they might use 'em." 
 
GOOD TASTE. 321 
 
 u Nein ferstan," responded the man with the mus 
 tache, as he put his hands beneath his coat-tails, and 
 walked up the steps, leaving Mrs. Partington standing 
 like a note of interrogation at the end of her speech. 
 while the omnibus, which had passed while she was speak 
 ing, was seen far in the distance. 
 
 GOOD TASTE. 
 
 1 1 CAN'T bear children," said Miss Prim, disdain 
 fully. 
 
 Mrs. Partington looked at her over her spectacles 
 mildly before she replied. 
 
 " Perhaps if you could you would like them better," 
 she at last said; " but why is it that unmarried old maids 
 and single bachelors are always railing at children? It 
 seems as if they had never read the command given to 
 our forefathers to ' increase and multiply and punish the 
 farth.' For my part, I love the little dears, and I had 
 rather hear a child cry any day than hear the Brass 
 Band." 
 
 And she went right to work covering a ball for Ike. 
 
322 OLD ROUER MUCH EXCITED. 
 
 OLD ROGER MUCH EXCITED. 
 
 u MRS. TIMMS," saiil old Roger, one morning to his 
 landlady at the breakfast-table ; he was an old bachelor 
 was Roger, and, as such, was an object of considerable 
 interest, both with the landlady and three antiquated 
 spinsters who boarded with her. "Mrs. Timms, what 
 sort of a house do you keep ? What sort of a neighbor 
 hood is this that you live in ? and why is it that you 
 have such a bad character round town, ma'am?" 
 
 The landlady was astonished, and well she might be, 
 for he looked excited incensed. 
 
 "I've boarded here, ma'am," continued he, u just 
 seven weeks, and every week we have had a tract left 
 here, and each tract is against some cardinal sin, ma'am, 
 that you, nor me, nor the yonn<r ladies here, I hope 
 ever committed. Here *s drunkenness, and gambling, 
 and swearing, and lying, and stealing, and adultery, and 
 bearing false witness, almost all the sins in the church 
 calendar, ma'am, and what '11 come next '.I .-can't guess. 
 / can't stand it, ma'am. 'Why, the devil himself could n't 
 stand it." 
 
 And his brow looked hot and steamy, and he bore the 
 look of a man injured by an implied reflection on a here 
 tofore bright reputation. 
 
BARE DUN. 323 
 
 RARE DUN. 
 
 ONE morning old Sledge got capsized out of his wherry, 
 halibut and all, at the Spring Market, in P* * * * *, 
 under the old dynast i ness of th:it institution, and was 
 nearly drowned when they got him out. He was so near 
 death that the ones who caught him couldn't see any 
 signs of life in him. But they rolled him and rubbed 
 him and shook him, and sent off among the neighbors for 
 warm blankets to put him in. Old Mrs. Twist, who 
 lived on Church Hill, in the kindness of her heart, 
 stripped her beds at once, and left her work all hanging, 
 as she said, by "sixes and sevens," to go and help bring 
 the man to. She warmed the blankets, and rublxul 
 away vigorously at the inanimate Sledge, working as it" 
 her heart was in the operation, as undoubtedly it was. 
 After a while, the rubbing took effect, or, as some 
 suggested, his ugly nature refused to die, and he 
 revived slowly slowly first a gape and then a groan 
 then he opened his eyes, and the first person he looked 
 upon . ,-as Mrs. Twist, busily engaged in her bcnevolenf. 
 manipulations. He looked at her a moment, and con 
 sciousness returned. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, as he spit the salt water out of his 
 codlike mouth, "glad to see yc; been looking arter ye 
 for a long time ; would like to have ye pay me the, two 
 shillings ye owe me ! " 
 
 Mrs. Twist assured us it was the most imthankfuWt 
 thing she ever heard of. and we think so too. 
 
324 THE BEAR-SKINS. 
 
 THE BEAR-SKINS. 
 
 "HERE come the sogers. aunt!'' cried Ike. at the door, 
 li here they come in their bear skins f " 
 
 u In their bare skins f ?r said Mrs. Partington, glanc 
 ing out of the w,indow into the cold, towards the \vcath~ 
 ercock that had looked obstinately east for three days, 
 much to the danger of a return of her rheumatism that 
 an east wind always induced. so much so that she had 
 declared her determination to move in the vicinity of some 
 Catholic church, whose vane always points one way. 
 '' in their bare skins such a day as this ! Highlanders, I 
 guess. ' J 
 
 She hastened to the door, and a company, with huge 
 and hideous caps, were then marching by. She saw that 
 she was sold. 
 
 " Ah ! " said she, " this is one of the horrors of war, to 
 go looking so; and s'pose one of them poor creuturs 
 should fall down, he T s so top-heavy his heels would 
 go up in the air, like a cornstalk witch, and all his brains 
 would run down into his head. I can't bear to look at 
 'em." 
 
 She closed the door carefully, but she stood in the 
 entry and beat time to the music till it had got far past 
 the house. 
 
AWFUL UKWY. 325 
 
 AWFUL DEWY. 
 
 OLD ROGER stood looking from the window out upon 
 the solitary tiger lily, the only one that could be 
 coaxed to grow for the summer, in the meagre atmos 
 phere of the boarding-house yard. The sickly lily held 
 its head up stoutly beneath the refreshing dew that had 
 fallen upon it during the night, and the shed-top, and 
 the ashes-barrel in the yard, and the few blades of gras.s 
 that sturdily struggled against difficulty and managed to 
 ^row in spite of circumstances, were all wet. Old Roger 
 turned around, and all knew by his looks that something 
 was coming, and were prepared for it. 
 
 "Why," said he, in a cheerful tone, "was this last 
 night that has just passed like a certain very eminent 
 clergyman ? " 
 
 All guessed it at once except the deaf milliner, who 
 had n't heard a word of it ; but they did n't say so, and 
 gave it up. 
 
 "It is because it was awful dewy ! " ? 
 
 What a laugh greeted the answer ! in the midst of 
 which the jolly old brick put on his hat, and went off> 
 like a rocket, in a blaze of glory. 
 28 
 
A SLIGHT MISAPPREHENSION'. 
 
 A SLIGHT MISAPPREHENSION. 
 
 " How do you like the bustle and confusion of Bos 
 ton?" asked the shop-keeper, as Mrs. Partington stood 
 by the counter. 
 
 "It gives me confusion to see 'em," said the old lady; 
 "folks didn't do so when I was a girl; and, besides, 
 what an awful sight of bran and cotton it takes, to say 
 nothing of their awkwardness when they get slipped on 
 one side " 
 
 "I mean," broke in the shopkeeper, "the bustle and 
 confusion of the streets." 
 
 " 0," said Mrs. P., "that is quite another thing! 11 
 and immediately left the store. 
 
 TiiE steak was terrible tough one morning, and Old 
 Roger worked away at it in silence. At length his 
 patience and masticators gave out ; turning to the land 
 lady, " Madam," said he, " your boarders should all 
 have been umpires at horse-races." 
 
 "Why so?" said she, coloring highly. 
 
 " Because, being accustomed to ' tender stakes,' they 
 would have none of the difficulty that I experience ; they 
 could obviate it." 
 
 It was an unpardonable thing in him, thus to exposo 
 her before all the boarders, and she thought the outrage 
 more than offset the tough moat. 
 
PEPPERCASS REBUKED. 327 
 
 PEPPERCASE REBUKED. 
 
 " STOP your noise in there ! * 7 . roared Mr. Peppe reuse, 
 as he heard the sound of a juvenile riot in the kitchen. 
 " If I come to you I '11 give you something that you will 
 remember for a fortnight ! I'll knock your heads off ! 
 I never saw such children in my life ; always yelling and 
 fighting. 7 ' 
 
 "I declare, that's queer! 77 said Mrs. Partington, who 
 was there to tea; " that is queer, when they have such a 
 very mild man for a father ; I should think they would 
 be as gentle as doves. Some fathers are like the fright 
 ful porcupine^ and of course their children will be 
 fractious; as the old hog squeals the young ones learn, 
 you know.' 7 
 
 She stirred her tea gently, and smiled as she spoke ; 
 and Mr. Peppercase, after a vain effort to detect malice 
 in her looks, changed the subject to the best mode of 
 raising cucumbers, which cooled him down in a short 
 time. 
 
828 A REMEMBERED MISTAKE. 
 
 A REMEMBERED MISTAKE. 
 
 " IT is all very true, Mr. Knickerbottom," said Mrs. 
 Partington, as she read in the Knickerbocker some 
 thing concerning brevity and simplicity of expression ; 
 '* it 's tme, as you say ; and how many mistakes there 
 does happen when folks don't understand each other ! 
 Why, last summer I told a dressmaker to make me a 
 long visite, to wear, and, would you believe it, she came 
 and staid a fortnight with me ? Since then I *ve made 
 it a pint always to speak just what I say/' 
 
 Her mouth grew down to a determined pucker at the 
 end of the sentence, and the snuff-box was tapped ener 
 getically, as if the fortnight of unrequited bread and 
 butter was laying heavy on her memory. 
 
 " FAITH is a great thing, and confidence in the cook, 
 and the trust that what you have before you is the true 
 representative of the name it bears,' 7 said old Roger, in 
 his lecture over the bread pudding; and he peered in 
 tently into his plate, as at some mysterious thing which 
 had there arisen to perplex him. " But," he continued, 
 " can I be expected to swallow everything, always in 
 blind credulity, or go so far as to construe pork-skins 
 and cheese-rinds to mean bread crumbs ? " 
 
 And he gently pushed his plate away and took a piece 
 of the pie. 
 
SIRS. PARTINGTON AND JENNY LIND. 329 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AND JENNY LIND. 
 
 "I NEVER liked the Sweden virgins," said Mrs. Part- 
 ington. She was orthodox, and always sat in the Asy 
 lum pew in the north-east comer of the gallery, and had 
 charge of the children in sermon time. Her raised 
 finger was an admonition that brought young refractories 
 to their obedience at once. Every Sunday was she 
 there, and people expected to see the faded black bonnet 
 above the railings, in prayer-time, as much as they 
 did the parson. ;i I never liked the Swedenvirgins ; but 
 I aVt one that believes nothing good can come out of 
 Lazarus, for all that. Now, there r s Jenny Lind. may 
 Heaven shower bags of dollars on her head ! that is so 
 very good to everybody, and who sings so sweet that 
 everybody '$ falling in love with her, tipsy turvy. and 
 gives away so much to poor, indignant people. They 
 call her an angel, and who knows but she may be a 
 syrup in disguise, for the papers say her singing is like 
 the music of the spears. How I should love to hear 
 her ! " 
 
 She grasped hastily at the long boad purse in her 
 reticule, but an unsatisfactory response came back from 
 it to her hopes, and she laid it back again with a sigh. 
 
 28* 
 
330 TUB USE OF T1IE AZTECS. 
 
 THE USE OF THE AZTECS. 
 
 " WE arc fearfully and wonderfully made ! " said Mrs. 
 Partington, after she had stood for a long time contem 
 plating the Aztec children. Her hands were resting 
 upon the hack of a chair as she said this, and she made 
 the remark so loud that a tall gentleman, who stood near 
 her, stooped down to get a look under her hlack bonnet. 
 He thought she had spoken to him. " We are fearfully 
 and wonderfully made," continued she, " 'specially some 
 of us. The ways of Providence is past finding out, and 
 we don't know what these Haystack children are made 
 for, no more ? n we do why the mermaids were made, or 
 the man in the moon. Perhaps they are made a pur 
 pose for curiosities, and nothing but Providence could 
 make anything more so, unless Mr. Barnuri should try. 
 Human natur never come done up in so queer a wrapper 
 before. They say they are distended from the Hay 
 stacks long ago gone to grass. And Isaac." said she, 
 turning to Ike, who was teasing one of them with a stick, 
 " Isaac, look upon ? em, and pray you may never be born 
 so.". 
 
 The people had gathered around, and were listening to 
 the words as they fell, like the notes of a hand-organ, 
 from her lips ; and when she ceased, they turned with 
 renewed eagerness to inspect the objects that her remarks 
 had rendered classic. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF THE BRAZEN NOSE. 
 
 331 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE BRAZEN NOSE; 
 
 OR, THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE UFKO OF THE STORY. 
 
 IGHT closed around 
 the field of Agin- 
 court. Sir Hilde- 
 brand Hellytisplit, 
 who had been 
 watching its ap 
 proach for an hour, 
 from a neighboring 
 r/hill. with a spy 
 glass, turned his 
 horse's head to 
 wards his quarters, 
 with a sad heart; 
 for the day had been destructive to horse-flesh, and 
 thousands of the French and Norman chivalry bit the 
 mud (not dust) of Agincourt. lie sought his tent. His 
 brow was dark and gloomy, as could be plainly seen 
 through his iron helmet ; and an unevenncss of gait, as 
 he strode along, betrayed great agitation of the nervous 
 system. 
 
 " Walter do Coursey Stubbs," said he. hoarsely, to his 
 squire in attendance. " hang up my horse, and give my 
 
332 TUB MYSTERY OF THE BRAZEN NOSE. 
 
 casque some oats and water. And, hark ye ! disturb me 
 not until the Connecticut wooden horologe in the vesti 
 bule striketh the hour of scving. Now, away." 
 
 Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit slowly divested himself of 
 his armor, which clanged upon the stillness of the night 
 like a tin kitchen, .and then taking a match from his vest 
 pocket, he lighted a three-cent regalia, and puffed away 
 at. -it in moody silence. He stretched himself upon 
 three chairs, with a bundle of old newspapers under his 
 head, and dropped asleep, and then caught a nnp. But 
 his sleep was troubled. Anon he started, and shouted, 
 ".St. Dennis for France! give r cm fits ! '* Again a 
 clammy sweat covered his brow, and he muttered, " Ha! 
 thrice to-day hath the brazen nose gleamed upon me in 
 the battle-field. Down, old copper-head, down ! " 
 
 But soon his slumbers grew calm, and not a sound 
 disturbed the silence, save the man-at-arms, who sat 
 wLetting his jackknife on a brick in the entry, and in 
 dulging in whistling some old familiar psalm-tunes, as if 
 his mind were elsewhere; for that man-at-arms had a 
 heart, he had. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BRAZEN NOSE. 
 
 IT was midnight,, within about ten minutes, and Sir 
 Hildebrand Hellytisplit still slept. At this moment a 
 slight noise was hqtard at the door, and, bearing in his 
 hand a tin lantern, a knight of gigantic size, some five 
 feet six in height. in complete armor, strode into the 
 tent. He gazed in/e/i/ly.upon the sleeper, and then, in 
 
THE MYSTERY OF THE BRAZEX NOSE. 333 
 
 suppressed voice, of great anguish, sighed out, " Ah ! 
 oh ! urn ! " and sank into a seat, like a cooking-stove. 
 His face could not be seen, but there was a dignity al>out 
 the strange knight that betokened a genteel bringing-up, 
 which had won the respect of the man-at-arms, who had 
 been bribed by a nincpcnce to admit him to the tout, on 
 the plea of " special business. " 
 
 His armor was of complete black, with no distinguish 
 ing; mark, save a huge nose of brass, borne upon the 
 casque, which gleamed in the light of the lantern like a 
 quart pot. Taking a pencil from one pocket, and a card 
 from another, he wrote a fe\y hurried lines; when, whis 
 pering to the man-at-arms for an envelope and a wafer, he 
 sealed the missive, and deposited it by the side of the 
 sleeping Sir Hildebrand, saying to the admiring attend 
 ant, " No trouble, sirrah, about mailing letters here : 
 we can mail them with our own mailed hands, eh ! " It 
 were better he had not uttered this; for the man, who 
 hoped for further largess, laughed loudly at the pleas 
 antry. 
 
 The light in the lantern disappeared, as Sir Hildebrand 
 Hellytisplit awoke, and, starting upon his elbow, he cried 
 aloud, " What, ho ! without there ? What 'n thunder 's 
 all that noise about ?" The men-at-arms and squires 
 came rushing in, rubbing their eyes. None had heard 
 the noise, and, at the suggestion of Walter de Coursey 
 Stubbs, that he had been awakened by his own snoring, 
 Sir Hildebrand turned over and went to sleep again. 
 
 " Keep shady," was the parting word of the stranger 
 knight, as he placed a quarter in the hand of Walter, and 
 strode forth from the tent. Mystery crowned the hour. 
 
834 THE MYSTERY OF THE BRAZEX NOSi. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 T11K GAME IS DTI 
 
 SCARCELY had the wooden clock done sinking the hour 
 of seven, the next morning, when Walter de Course/ 
 Stubbs stood by his muster's side to awake him from hi* 
 slumbers, which he accomplished by pulling one of the 
 chairs from beneath him. Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit 
 wiped his e^es with his hand, and combed his hair with 
 his fingers, and then, as was his wont, commenced pom 
 melling his attendant by way of gentle exercise, after 
 which he proceeded to dress himself in the panoply of 
 war. Stooping to pick up one of the stove-pipes that 
 encased his legs. Sir Hildebrand espied the letter left by 
 the stranger, lying upon the ground. He gazed upon 
 the writing, and a mortal paleness covered his face. His 
 limbs trembled in every joint and rivet, and his teeth, 
 which were not metallic, shook like a set of props. He 
 read . 
 
 li Perfigis retch : your our is cum. . . Mete me to- 
 morrar outside the Inglish lines, and Ilo giv yu Jessy. 
 Yours respectively, NOSEY." 
 
 Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit drank his coffee in silence; 
 after which, arming himself with two spears, a battle- 
 axe, a sword, mace and shield, besides filling hi* belt 
 with bowie knives, revolvers, and slung shot, he walked 
 forth into the fields, in the rear of the English camp, 
 where he soon discovered the Knight of the Brazen Nose 
 
THE MYSTERY OP TUB BRAZEN NOSE. 335 
 
 sitting on a rock, reading a newspaper, who sprang to his 
 feet and pulled out his sword. 
 
 The contest was speedily begun and quicker ended; 
 for Sir Hildcbrand had " too many irons in the fire," 
 and he could n't " coine in" well. One blow from the 
 powerful arm of him of the Nose, and the head of Sir 
 Hildebrand Ilellytisplit, like an iron pot, rolled at tho 
 feet of the victor. 
 
 Uttering a fearful cry of agony at this consummation, 
 the strange knight tore off his helmet, revealing beneath 
 a head of hair like a pound of flax, the fair but hard 
 countenance of Judy O'Brien, the washer-woman. 
 " Gentlemen," said she, " he was a perjured man, and 
 I have avenged myself upon him. He owed me a bill 
 for washing, but, alas! in wiping out that score, I've 
 . flummoxed myself. Tell this to my countrywomen; 
 never seek for vengeance; 'tis better to forgive a little, 
 if they lose a shilling on the pound. Farewell." Say 
 ing which, she disappeared up a tall tree that was near 
 by, and they never saw her more. 
 
 Coroner de Smythe, under the circumstances, did not 
 think it advisable to summon a jury, and informed Sir 
 Hildebrand's friend.*, by telegraph, that they had better 
 come on and look after his cffectn. as no was n't exactly 
 in a condition to do it for himself. A Flemish Jew bought 
 Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit's wardrobe, after a few keep 
 sakes had been taken by friends, for about the price of 
 
33C GOiNU TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 GOING TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 r 
 
 " DEAR me ! " exclaimed Mrs. Partington sorrowfully, 
 " how much a man will bear, and how far he will go, to 
 get the soddered dross, as Parson Martin called it when 
 he refused the beggar a sixpence, for fear it might lead 
 him into extravagance ! Everybody is going to California 
 and Chagrin arter gold. Cousin Jones and the three 
 Smiths have gone ; and Mr. Chip, the carpenter, has left 
 Lis wife and seven children and a blessed old mothcr-in- 
 law, to seek his fortin, too. This is the strangest yet, 
 and I don't see how he could have done it ; it looks so 
 ongrateful to treat Heaven's blessings so lightly. But 
 there, we are told that the love of money is the root of 
 all evil, and how true it is ! for they are now rooting 
 arter it, like pigs arter groundnuts. Why, it is a perfect 
 money mania among everybody ! " 
 
 And she shook her head doubtingly, as she pensively 
 watched a small mug of cider, with an apple in it, sim 
 mering by the winter fire. She was somewhat fond of 
 drink made in this way. 
 
A TOUGH CUSTOMER. 887 
 
 A TOUGH CUSTOMER. 
 
 4i WILL you help ine to a piece of chicken? " asked 
 Miss Seraphina of old Roger, on Thanksgiving day. 
 The old man was engaged elbow -deep in the intricate 
 task of carving ; the perspiration stood upon his brow, 
 from his exertions, truly herculean efforts. in dis 
 secting a large fowl 
 
 " Chicken ! " muttered he ; i: do you call this a 
 chicken? Why. it has been the father of thousands, 
 miss." 
 
 He hadn't a very thankful spirit that day, and the 
 older boarders, with bad teeth, joined with him in ques 
 tioning the propriety of being thankful. 
 
 OLD ROGER'S boarding-house having failed, and the 
 furniture being taken to be sold on mean process, as he 
 called it, he asked one of the chambermaids, who always 
 had been saucy to him, if she was to be sold with iho 
 rest of the furniture. She answered him ; ' No ! "-as 
 sharp as vinegnr. 
 
 " (y said he, coolly buttoning up his coat. :; I sup 
 posed you were, for the advertisement rends that the 
 house is to be sold with all the impertinences thereto 
 belonging." 
 
 He very cruelly laughed at the indignant look she 
 gave him. and stepped out. 
 29 
 
388 FVNERAL OBSTACLES. 
 
 Ff XERAL OBSTACLES. 
 
 ' How solemn these funeral obstacles is ! " said Mi's. 
 Pai tington, as she looked down from an upper chamber 
 window, MI the day of a mo?k funeral of one of the 
 .presidents. She took off her specs to wipe the moisture 
 from their discs, tapped her box mournfully to the 
 measured time of the distant drum, and looked anxiously 
 down the street, to catch the first glimpse of the funeral 
 train. "Here it comes at last," <|iioth she, "with the 
 soldiers all playing with muzzled drum:*, and their Hags 
 Hying at half-mast. Is that the catastrophe? " whis 
 pered she of a gentleman near her. 
 
 i; That is the catafalque, madam," replied he. 
 
 " Well, well/' said she, '* no matter : I knowcd there 
 was a cat about it, and I didn't know*but it might be a 
 cataplasm. Will you tell me when the artillery Hies 
 over, that come on here to tend the funeral ? " 
 
 "Good gracious, madam ! '' cried he testily. ;; they 
 don't fly. They are artillery men on horseback, merely." 
 
 :; Dear me! :7 replied she. ;; I thought it was one of 
 the wings of the army, and flew. How easy it is to get 
 mistaken ! ?> 
 
 She pensively gazed upon the. pageant that slowly 
 passed before her. 
 
 u What ;i pity it is/' said she, i: that we don't vally 
 people till alter they are dead ; but then what paragorks 
 w<> pour upon th-m ! '' 
 
EXCELLENT ADVICE. 339 
 
 She here paused ; a silence pervaded the chamber : UK- 
 procession had passed, the company had departed, and 
 two hours after the old lady was found still sitting by 
 the open window fast askef). So powerful is grief ! 
 
 EXCELLENT ADVICE. 
 
 " NEVER get in debt, Isaac, 7 ' said Mrs. Partington ; 
 and she raised her tea-spoon with an oracular air, and 
 held it thus, as if from it were suspended the threads of 
 a fine argument on economy, discernible to her eye alone, 
 and she was watching an opportunity to make it tangi 
 ble. " Xever get in debt, no matter whether you are 
 creditable or not ; it is better to live on a crust of bread 
 and water and a herring or two, than cows and oxen cut- 
 up into rump steaks, arid owe for it. Think of our 
 neighbor; what a foiling he had. and had all his goods 
 and impertinences took away on a mean procession and 
 sold, and his poor wife reduced to a calico gound, starv 
 ation, arid shushon tea. and he in Californy ! ?J 
 
 t: Some tea, please,' 7 said Ike. as he handed over his 
 tin dipper. The tea, like her own reflections, trickled 
 out musically ; and she passed along the caution, with the 
 cream and sugar, never to get in debt. 
 
340 TIMELY REFLECTION. 
 
 TIMELi r REFLECTION. 
 
 "DEAR me !" exclaimed Mrs. Partington; and her 
 hands were raised above a basket of potatoes, in a pro 
 vision store, as if she were asking a blessing upon it. 
 It was in response to the shopkeeper, who had told 
 her, in sepulchral tones, that the potatoes were all rot 
 ting. " O, dear me ! " said she, " if the potatoes is all 
 rotting, what upon airth will poor people do for bread ? 
 What will the poor Paddygonians do that don't eat noth 
 ing else? And flour is very high, too. They tell us 
 every now and then of an improvement in the market ; 
 but flour is always just as dear after it, and we have to 
 pay full as much for a half dollar's worth. It takes 
 almost a remissness of Californy gold every week to get 
 along now-a-days. Heaven help the poor ! " 
 
 What a heartiness there was in that simple prayer f 
 The provision-dealer was affected. He dropped the long 
 red, he had been holding, pensively into the basket again, 
 and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his white frock. 
 That stern man, who had unrelentingly cut up tons of 
 beef, nor shed one tear over the struggles of expiring 
 lambkins, showing no quarter while quartering them, 
 that stern man wiped his eyes on his frock-sleeve, and 
 murmured " Yes'm ! ?T It was touching ! Everything 
 was sixteen ounces to the pound with him for that 
 day. 
 
PKEPARINU TO SEK THE PRESIDENT. 
 
 PREPARING TO SEE THE PRESIDENT. 
 
 OTHER wants to know 
 if you "11 lend her a 
 little merlasses to 
 ' starch a cap, to go and 
 sec the President."' 
 said a little girl, coming into 
 Mrs. Parti n<rton*s kitchen, bear 
 ing in her hand a tin cup. 
 
 " Certainly, dear/' said the 
 good dame, pleasantly. 
 
 She never thought of the 
 unreasonableness of the request ; she never dreamed of 
 guile. The treacle depository was brought out, the golden 
 liquid filled the tin receptacle, and the child departed. 
 
 "Well!" said the old lady, ''everybody is going to 
 see the President. But what is a president, or a king, 
 or a justice of the peace, but a man, arter all, with flesh 
 and blood, and bones and hair, like any of us? And 
 thousands will come further to see him than they would 
 to see Saint Paul, or Hebrews, or Revelations, or any of 
 7 em. Sich man- worship ! sich man- worship ! " 
 
 " The President ? s coming, aunt ! " said Ike, bursting 
 in ; ; ' and he is going by our door ;" and the little fellow 
 was half crazy with delight, and threw hid fap in a pan 
 of milk upon the table in his enthusiasm. 
 
 " How do I look, Isaac ? " said the dame, wi+h aniina- 
 
342 A CHURCH INCIDENT. 
 
 tion ; :< is my hair combed, ami my handkerchief digested 
 right on my neck, and my cap border even?' 7 and she 
 took her plu e by the window, when these questions were 
 answered, as eager as any one to " see the President/ 7 
 and Ike stepped out. But her eyes were strangely dim. 
 and those hitherto faithful specs gave indications now of 
 failing her. She took them off to wipe them, and both 
 glasses were gone ! An hour before, Ike had borrowed 
 them for a telescopic experiment. But it did n't make 
 any odds, for the procession had turned down another 
 street, and did n't go by her door at all. 
 
 A CHURCH INCIDENT. 
 
 THE bell had tolled for some minutes after the time 
 of meeting, and some signs of impatience were manifest. 
 A stranger, touching the occupant of a pew in front of 
 him, asked, " Is your preacher often as late as this? " 
 
 i; O, yes, sir," replied the interrogated ; ' : it often 
 happens that he don't get here till the sermon is half 
 through ! " 
 
 The stranger looked at him intently a little while, and 
 then made a memorandum of this fact in his note-book. 
 
A DRY-UOOD LESSON. 343 
 
 A DRY-GOOD LESSON. 
 
 "HAVE you any stout, dark marines?" said Mrs. 
 Partington to the shopkeeper. He was one of those 
 good-humored young men, whose hair, nicely-curled, 
 betokens an elegant taste, and he stood swaying back 
 and forth, leaning on his yardstick, and smiled amiably 
 as the old lady spoke. "Have you any dark marines, 
 suitable for thick ladies' outside under garments? " 
 
 "We have dark moreens, ma'am, r> replied he. and 
 cast his eyes towards a brother clerk, and winked archly. 
 She gazed upon him a moment before she spoke again. 
 "Well, well, young man, it was only a slip of the 
 tongue ; and if you never make a greater slip in meas 
 uring cloth, you will be much more .honest than many 
 clerks I know/' 
 
 The clerk colored and stammered out an apology, but 
 it was needless. There was no unkindness in her looks. 
 The spectacles bent their bows upon him steadily from 
 the cavernous gloom of the big bonnet, but his per 
 turbed fancy alone made them terrible. Slio made the 
 purchase she intended, and in measure it proved full half 
 a quarter over what she had bargained for. 
 
344 A ULAN'CE AT POVERTY. SLAX1>ERERS. 
 
 A GLANCE AT POVERTY. 
 
 ."Ii must be very inconvenient to be poor;' 7 said Mrs. 
 Partington, as she glanced with honest pride at her high- 
 backed chairs and old-fashioned chest of drawers, and 
 continued her eye on to the open cupboard in the cor 
 ner. ;: How people can contrive to get along with so 
 little I don't see. There is our poor neighbor down the 
 yard, now. is so pinched for room that she has to have a 
 bed in the very, room where she sleeps! " 
 
 Kind old lady ! her benevolence walked ahead of her 
 grammar : but a trifling error in speech is as pardonable 
 in Mrs. Partington an in Henry Clay. 
 
 SLANDERERS. 
 
 " IF there is anybody under the canister of heaven 
 that I have in utter excrescence," said Mrs. Partington, 
 4 : it is a tale-bearer and slanderer, going about, like a 
 vile boa-constructor, circulating his calomel about honest 
 folks. I always know one by his phismahogany. It 
 seems as if Belzebub had stamped him with his private 
 signal, and everything he looks at appears to turn 
 yaller." 
 
 And, having uttered this somewhat elaborate speech, 
 she was seized with a fit of coughing, nnd took some 
 demulcent drops. 
 
A STORMY SEASON. 845 
 
 A STORMY SEASON. 
 
 "CEASE, rude Bolus, blustering railer ! " said Mrs. 
 Partington, as she reached out into the storm to secure a 
 refractory shutter, and the wind rushed in and extin 
 guished her light, and slummed to the door, and fanned 
 the fire in the grate, and rustled the calico flounce upon 
 the quilt, and peeped into the closet, and under the bed, 
 and contemptuously shook Mrs. Partington's night- 
 jacket, as it hung airing on the chair by the fire, and 
 flirted with her cap-border, as ^he looked out upon the 
 night. It was a saucy gust. "How it blows!" said 
 she, as she shut down the window. u I hope Heaven 
 will keep the poor sailors safe that go down on the sea 
 in vessels ! Tnis must be the obnoxious storm," con 
 tinued she, " when the sun crosses the Penobscot." 
 
 She donned her specs, and sat down to consult her 
 almanac, next to her Bible in importance, and she 
 found she was right, while the wind howled around the 
 hotise most dismally, and yelled wildly down the old 
 chimney. 
 
S4G METETICAL COUNSEL. 
 
 DIETETICAL COUNSEL. 
 
 " You must n't be too greedy, Isaac," said Mrs. Part- 
 ington, as, with an anxious expression, she marked a 
 strong effort that young gentleman was making to achieve 
 the lust quarter of a mince-pie. " You should n't be so 
 glutinous, dear. You must be careful, or you will get 
 something in your elementary canal or sarcophagus one 
 of these days, that will kill you, Isaac (she had been to 
 hear a course of physiological lectures), and then you will 
 have to be buried in the cold ground, and nobody won't 
 never see you no more ; and what will I do, Isaac, when 
 you are .cut down in your priming, like a lovely jelly- 
 flower ?" 
 
 Much affected by the picture her own prolific fancy 
 had conjured up, she pensively sweetened her tea for the 
 fourth time, and looked earnestly upon Isaac, who, un 
 heeding all she was saying, sat gazing at the street door, 
 revolving in his mind the practicability of ringing the 
 door-bell unperceived, without going outside. 
 
 DOMESTIC peace can never be preserved in family 
 jars. 
 
MRS 1'ARTINUTOS CONFERS WITH PAUL. 847 
 
 MRS. P. CONFERS WITH PAUL. 
 
 " AND do you believe in the spirituous knockinga?" 
 asked Mrs. Partington, as she leaned forward over the 
 table, and bent her eyes on a queer individual who had 
 related some wonderful things he had seen. " 0, I 
 would so like to have poor Paul come back ! * J 
 
 A gentle rapping upon the old chest in the corner 
 attracted their attention, and the whole of them immedi 
 ately surrounded it. 
 
 "If it's Paul's apprehension," said Mrs. Partington, 
 " I know he '11 answer me. Paul, is that you ? " 
 
 Knock. 
 
 "Just like him,' ? said she, smiling, "when he was 
 living ; he was always tapping when we had anything in 
 the house to tap, didn't you, Paul ? " 
 
 Knock. 
 
 " Can't you speak to me ? " 
 
 Knock. 
 
 " Does that mean yes or DO V' 
 
 Knock. 
 
 " Which does it moan ? " 
 
 Knock. 
 
 Some of the party suggested that the alphabet should 
 be called, which was done. 
 
 " Are you in want of anything ? " said she. 
 
 Knock. 
 
 "What is it ? v 
 
348 AIUS. PARTINGTON CONFERS WITH PAUL. 
 
 And the anxious spectators, through the medium of 
 the alphabet, 'spelled out ' ; S-i-d-u-r. ?? 
 
 "It is Paul ! " cried the old lady, delightedly ; "that 's 
 the way he always spelled it. Do you want me to come 
 to you, Paul?" 
 
 The answer came back, " No, I 'm in better com- 
 pany!" 
 
 The old lady turned away mournfully. There was 
 sorrow in the wavy lock of gray that straggled beneath 
 her cap border, there was a quaver of grief in the tone 
 that inquired for the scissors, there was a misty vapor 
 upon her specs, like the dew upon the leaves after a rain, 
 the cap-border, like a flag at half-mast, trailed in woe 
 over the ruin of disappointed affection. At that instant 
 the cover of the chest opened, and the head of Ike, pro 
 truding, disclosed the secret of the knockings. 
 
 "Ah, you rogue !" said she, a smile dispelling all 
 evidence of disorder, ' ' Ah, you rogue ! was it you ? You ' 11 
 never be a good ipirit as long as you live, I 'm afraid, if 
 you go on so. But I knowed it was n't Paul ! " 
 
 There was triumph in her tone, nnd it seemed as if a 
 whole basket full of sunshine had been upset in that 
 room, it was so pleasant all the rest of the evening. 
 
MRS. PARTfXGTON AT THE PLAY. 34<J 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AT" THE PLAY. 
 
 " THE play-house is the ' way to the pit ! ' " said Mrs. 
 Partington, solemnly, and pointing significantly down 
 ward. 
 
 "But," remonstrated a friend, who had asked her to 
 risit the Museum with him, " there is no pit in this 
 theatre, and the way to the pit is removed." 
 
 She looked earnestly at him a moment, and then said 
 she would go. The play was the " Stranger," and she 
 was much interested in it. 
 
 "Why don't he make it up with her? " she inquired. 
 " What ? s the sense of being ugly when she ? s so contri- 
 cious for what she had done, I should like to know ? I 
 think it shows a bad temper in him ; and the dear chil 
 dren, too, coming in like little cherubs, to make 'em 
 forget all old troubles and follies ! We had n't ought to 
 dwell so upon old grievousness, because we are all liable 
 creturs. How I do pity her ! " 
 
 And the old lady wept copiously. She wouldn't leave 
 the house till she ascertained from the policeman whether 
 old Tobias got back his son that had 'listed, for he looked 
 but feeble, she ' said, when he went away, and the great 
 grief and the long pole the old gentleman carried for a 
 cane must have broken him down/ 
 30 
 
350 BREACHES OF FAITH A QUEER CONCEIT. 
 
 BREACHES OF FAITH. 
 
 "BREECHES of faith ! " screamed Mrs. Partington. as 
 she heard that term applied to Mexican violations of an 
 armistice. " Well, I wonder what they will have next. 
 I have hearn tell of cloaks of hypocrisy, and robes of 
 purity, but I never heard of breeches of faith before. I 
 hope they 7 re made of something that won't change and 
 wear out, as old Deacon Gudgins' faith did, for his 
 was always changing. He went from believing that 
 nobody would be saved, to believing that all would be, 
 and at last turned .out a phrenologer, and did n't believe 
 in nothing ! I wonder if it 's as strong as cassimere ? " 
 
 And she bit off her thread and prepared a new needle- 
 full. 
 
 A QUEER COXCEIT. 
 
 " WHY don't they make these tragedies turn out dif 
 ferent?" said Mrs. Partington, after seeing Virginius 
 performed. "I think they might end them with a 
 dance ; and all that are killed should take a part in it, 
 just to show folks that they 're alive. This, now, was 
 too savage; and when Mr. Virginiu? got the other gen 
 tleman by the throat, I looked round for the police, to 
 see if he would part them, and there he was enjoying it 
 as well as the rest of 'em. I should like to know what 
 he is there for, if it a'n't to keep the peace." 
 
 And the old lady was tucked up for the night. 
 
MILS. PARTINGTOX ON COLPOKTERS. 851 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON ON COLPORTERS. 
 
 " So, they've took our minister and made a coal- 
 jwrter of him," said Mrs. Purtington to her neighbor, 
 Mrs. Sled. "I suppose they're going to set him to 
 work carrying all the coal in the parish, and so take the 
 bread out of the pockets of the foreigners and Irishmen, 
 poor creturs, that do it now. He preached last Sunday 
 on mortifying the flesh ; but when he gets to carrying the 
 baskets, I think he will look like one mortified all 
 over." 
 
 She smiled at the conceit, and then turned to see 
 what David said on the subject, and what analogy there 
 was between "hewing of wood, and drawing of water." 
 and coal-portering ; but dropped the search on a sum 
 mons to tea. 
 
 " No matter," said she, " it won't hurt him any, and 
 my dear Paul used to say that everything honest was 
 honorable, and that black coat of his'n won't show the 
 coal-dust at all." 
 
852 
 
 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 ,SAAC!" said Mis. Part- 
 ington, rapping on the 
 > window, as she saw the 
 boy in the act of putting 
 half a bunch of crackers 
 'it into the pocket of a coun 
 tryman who stood view 
 ing the procession. The 
 caution came too late, 
 and the individual was 
 astonished ! Isaac had 
 stepped inside the door 
 to await the explosion. 
 
 and the old lady met him in the entry. " 0, you spirit 
 of mischief! " cried she, " what will become of you if you 
 go on in this way ? Li this all your idces of liberty and 
 regeneration, that you must fill that poor man's pockets 
 with your crackers 1 Do you suppose this was all that 
 the days of 7 by 6 was made for ? I should think you 
 would be ashamed to look upon your Uncle Paul's picter 
 there, and hide your face in conclusion, arter behaving 
 so ? Ah ! " she mused, " how different boys are now 
 from what they used fo be ! so wild, so rakeless and 
 tricky" (crack !) " what T s that ? I should like to 
 know who fired that. It was a great piece of impu 
 dence" (crack ?) " goodness gracious ! somebody 
 
SEEING THE FIREWORKS. 353 
 
 must be thro win' 'em into the windows." She ran to 
 look out. Not a soul was near that could have done it. 
 Crack ! another explosion at her feet, and . she looked 
 round. Isaac sat demurely eating some gingerbread by 
 the table, but said nothing. There was an expression 
 about his mouth which looked torpedoish, and for a mo 
 ment she mistrusted him ; but he could n't have done it, 
 he was so quiet, and she shut the window that opened 
 upon the street, to prevent their throwing in any more. 
 
 SEEING THE FIREWORKS. 
 
 " 0, DEAR ? " said Mrs. Partington, stretching her 
 self on her toes to get a better look at the fireworks. " I 
 always wish I was seven foot tall at times like this." 
 
 " And I wish I was nine foot," said the little woman 
 before her, spitefully. 
 
 " How I hate to see people so selfish ! don't you, Mrs. 
 Brown ? " whispered Mrs. Partington to her neighbor. 
 " There there they are touching off the volcano, I 
 vow ! " said Mrs. P. ; u now look and sec if the burning 
 lather runs down the hill this way ! " 
 
 And the old lady looked anxiously toward the Park. 
 
 30* 
 
354 MILS. I'ARTIXUTON AND THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 MRS. PARTIXGTON is much prejudiced against the 
 magnetic telegraph, and takes an entirely new ground in 
 her opposition to it. 
 
 " You may send your letters on it," said she to the 
 philosopher, " if you 7 re a mind to ; but I shan't trust 
 one of mine on it while people can cut it off before it gets 
 there, and let the whole world into family secrets. And 
 how presumptuous it is, too, for men to draw heaven's 
 blessed lightning down and set it a dancing on a tight wire, 
 like a very circuit-rider ! It 's absolute blasphemy, and 
 outrage on the highway, and agin all natur and scriptur."* 
 
 And she turned to the books to find an appropriate 
 text, but changed the subject by commencing a discus 
 sion with her niece on the relative merits of ball yarn 
 and skein, and, taking her sides, she went on like a 
 jolly old wheelbarrow. 
 
 LET none be vain of imagined superiority over their 
 brother men; for whatever advantage may be fancied in 
 one respect, in another there may be a deficiency. The 
 man who has law and divinity at his fingers' ends, in the 
 lore of horse-flesh may be instructed by his stable-boy ; 
 and she who speaks Italian and embroiders, can, perhaps, 
 take lessons in yarn-stockings from Mrs. Partington. 
 Franklin, who could draw the lightning from heaven, 
 made a poor hand at tending a baby. 
 
: =T 
 
 i I "'X '' > i- 
 
 ' I -. r .*r : ' " ' {f. ' 
 
 ;iir^'^|i 
 
 \ : II li I S T M A * s "' lc v 
 
A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 355 
 
 A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 IT was with a clouded brow and an angry eye that 
 young Frank Harlowe stood looking upon his father's 
 face, and hearkening to his words, as he violently rebuked 
 him. The flush upon the old man's cheek betokened the 
 tempest that raged within his breast, and his raised and 
 clenched hand descended in fearful emphasis as he uttered 
 the words " Obey me, or, by Heaven, you leave my 
 house forever ! " 
 
 Mr. Harlowe, the father of Frank, was one of those 
 unfortunate men, -whose impulses are stronger than their 
 powers of resistance. His passion once aroused, reason, 
 affection, common kindness wore forgotten in the storm 
 that held him in mastery. The hasty and severe word 
 that conveys such bitterness in its utterance, in his moods 
 of temper was always ready, and the hasty blow fell 
 upon his children with cruel violence, at the least provo 
 cation. Correction they never received. It was the 
 vindictive visitation of an avenger of wrong rather than 
 the chastisement of a parent. 
 
 At heart Mr. Harlowe was a kind man, and oftentimes 
 and bitterly, when the storm had blown by, and his 
 mind was calm again, did he repent with a sincere re 
 pentance the evil he had done, of which he was fully 
 sensible. Benevolent, intelligent, noble-spirited, self- 
 sacrificing, as occasion called for action, he had won 
 himself a name for probity and usefulness that was 
 
A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 enviable, and, but for the turbulence of temper above 
 described, few finer men could be found. This weakness 
 was his besetting sin, his temptation, and his will was 
 insufficient to resist it. 
 
 Frank Harlowe, his youngest son and favorite, was 
 his counterpart in body and mind. Handsome, intelli 
 gent and witty, at seventeen he was the favorite of all 
 in the village in which he lived. His 'generosity was 
 unbounded, and the tendrils of his youthful nature shot 
 forth and strengthened in the fertile soil of congeniality. 
 At social gatherings he was the crowning spirit. His 
 voice rang merriest at the harvest home, his story elicited 
 the warmest plaudits at the husking-frolic, and in the old 
 woods his song echoed through its sombre arches with 
 the joyousness of unrestricted freedom. No jealous 
 rivalry stood in the way of his supremacy ; young and 
 old admitted his claim to the distinction, and the smile 
 of beauty the rustic rose of rural artlessness 
 beamed for him with constant and kindly glow. 
 
 Such was Frank Harlowe in his social intercourse, 
 petted and happy ii.- i,he genial flow of his unembittered 
 enjoyment; but at home he was a different being. 
 The contrast between the sphere of home and that of 
 neighborhood was too marked. The reverence due pa 
 rental authority was too little excited by parental love. 
 Disobedience to imperious command was followed by 
 violence of invective or blows, and his high spirit revolted 
 at the irksomeness of domestic oppression. His two elder 
 brothers had no sympathy with him. They were plod 
 ding and matter-of-fact men. Taking from their mother 
 a more passive and quiescent nature than his own, they 
 
A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 357 
 
 grubbed along the* way of life, like the oxen they 
 drove, that knew no joy beyond the herbage they 
 cropped, having no aspiration beyond the bound of their 
 enclosure. Content with old routines, no new hope 
 obtruded upon their ruminations. They frowned upon 
 the bold boy, whose spirit and brilliancy cast a reproach 
 upon their lethargy, and they rejoiced when the reproof 
 came to curb his ambition. Home was no longer homo 
 to him ; the ties of consanguinity were to him iron bonds 
 from whose release he would pray to be freed ; his moth 
 er's love alone sanctified the existence he led, it was 
 the one solitary star in his night of domestic gloom. 
 
 His affections, thus turned from the home circle, had 
 concentrated upon one, the fairest of the village, but 
 whose coquettish predilections had rendered ner obnox 
 ious to censure, and her fame having reached his father, 
 the knowledge of Frank's attachment for her had pro 
 voked a discussion, the result of which was the imperative 
 command with which my story commences, a command 
 that he must renounce her forever. 
 
 The boy stood gazing upon his father, with a flashing 
 eye and a swelling breast, as he spoke. Feelings too 
 powerful for utterance were depicted in the look ho 
 gave, and he left the room with an expression of bitter 
 rage. 
 
 The next morning there was confusion in Mr. Har- 
 lowe's house. Frank had fled ? no one knew whither, 
 and the circle, whose union was so illy cemented, was 
 broken. A letter in the village post-office explained the 
 reason. It read as follows : 
 
358 A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " Dear Mother, It grieves me to bid you farewell, 
 but longer sufferance from father's tyrannical usage is 
 impossible I go to seek my fortune, and when we meet 
 again may 't be when he and I shall have learned a 
 lesson from our separation, and the alienation of father 
 and child may be forgotten in the renewed intercourse 
 of man and man. Farewell mother, and may you be 
 more happy than I should have been able to make you 
 had I lived with you a thousand years. Farewell. Re 
 member sometimes your poor boy, FRANK." 
 
 The letter fell like a thunderbolt upon that household, 
 so unprepared for such an event, and deep contrition 
 wrunji the erring father's heart, who saw too late the 
 
 O O ' 
 
 evil he had wrought. The spirited boy had been his 
 favorite, so like him was he in form and mind. lie remem 
 bered that no word spoken to him in kindness had 
 been unheeded. lie heard his praise in every mouth, 
 admitted the justness of the meed that was awarded him, 
 and every word and every thought was a dagger to his 
 soul in view of the ruin he had causal. Then, for the 
 first time, he felt the weight of the responsibility that 
 rested upon him as a parent, and trembled as he re 
 flected how far he might be instrumental in his son's 
 eternal doom. Too late came penitence for the past, but 
 he vowed reform for the future, and prayed for strength 
 to fulfil his vow. 
 
 A change came over the man and his home. The 
 mould of years and care mingled with the raven hues of 
 youth, for years had passed and no line of remembrance 
 
A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. g'>9 
 
 had come from the absent boy. The brothers had mar 
 ried, and had children, and the old homestead wag glad 
 with the music of childish laughter, and a sad happiness 
 smiled upon the lives of Mr. and Mrs. Harlowe. The 
 mother had mourned for her child, and his remembrance 
 often came to her in the voices of her grandchildren, and 
 in the sweet reminiscences which solitude brought. The 
 hope of seeing him had long died out in her breast; for 
 twelve weary years had elapsed since he went away. 
 
 The village had changed. The young and joyous 
 companions of Frank had turned into grave family men. 
 or had moved to strange cities, and become the devotees 
 of the money-god, cr worshipped Fame in high places. 
 The maids with whom he had sported had lost their 
 smiles in the matronly cares of life, or had transferred 
 them to their children, upon w!.om they bloomed again. 
 The coquette of Frank's old idolatry had years before given 
 place to younger rivals, and mourned her faded charms 
 in singleness of state. The village had become populous, 
 and new steeples gleamed above the trees in the sunlight, 
 and new streets and houses marked the steps of progress. 
 A railroad whistle greeted the morning sun instead of the 
 song of birds as of old. and the quiet of village life had 
 been usurped by the confusion of city habits. 
 
 Frank was forgotten in the march of present excite 
 ment, or only remembered as a pleasant dream. 
 
 It was Christmas night in the year of grace '50, and 
 a pleasant party had met in the house of Mr. Harlowe, 
 to celebrate the birthday anniversary of his eldest grand 
 son. The wind howled around the old mansion-house, 
 and growled down the spacious chimney, as if threaten- 
 
360 A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 ing the elements of geniality, that reigned below, with a 
 submerging visit. The snow rattled against the windows, 
 red with indoor light, and piled itself in little heaps upon 
 the sills. But all was unheeded by the party within, 
 and the wind and snow were unheard amid the music of 
 mirth. The song was trilled from pretty lips, and manly 
 voices joined in a chorus of praise to the festive season, 
 when a loud knock of the ancient brazon lion upon the 
 door arrested every attention. The sound reverberated 
 along the old entry, and up the broad stairway, and 
 through the large and airy rooms, with remarkable free 
 dom for such an intruder, at such a time. The timid 
 shrunk at the sound, as from a boding of evil, and anx 
 iety marked every face. The door was opened, and a 
 female form was ushered in, in whose scant and ragged 
 habiliments poverty was but too plainly read, and in the 
 bronzed and wrinkled face, revealed by the removal of 
 a red hood, were seen the traces of want and exposure. 
 Her keen, black eye, as she entered, surveyed the scene, 
 and her bronzed complexion glowed ruddily in the fire 
 light. 
 
 " Good people," she said, in a cracked and tuneless 
 voice, that made the flesh of her hearers creep at its 
 sound, " I am weary and hungry, give me of your 
 bounty, in the name of Him who upon this day took 
 upon himself the condition of man. I am weary, I 
 am hungry. " 
 
 An appeal thus made could not be resisted, and the 
 best the house afforded was provided for the poor 
 stranger. The voracity with which she ate attracted the 
 attention of the circle, fully attesting her fimished con- 
 
A STORl FOR CHRISTMAS. 361 
 
 dition; and a glance at her apparel confirmed the im 
 pression of want and distress, and mercy conquered the 
 disgust which her presence had at first occasioned. Her 
 feet protruded through her travel-worn shoes, and the 
 snow melted from their soles and ran down upon the 
 sanded floor. 
 
 A3 soon as her hunger was appeased, she turned to 
 depart, but the voice of Mr. Harlowc asked her to re 
 main, and, in sympathetic tones, reminded her of the 
 inclemency of the night. 
 
 The woman expressed her thanks gracefully, and seated 
 herself by the fire?ide. The sport went on, noisily and 
 happily, when it became whispered that the old dame 
 was one of those weird people who tell, fortunes by the 
 stars, or more ignoble means, and open to view the des 
 tinies of men that lay concealed in the future. 
 
 " Can you tell fortunes, good woman? " asked one of 
 the youngest and boldest. 
 
 "I have travelled far," replied the beldame; "and I 
 have learned strange arts in my wanderings. The 
 heavens are open to my gaze, and the stars, where the 
 mysteries rf fate are hid. are as the printed page. The 
 human f^lm is to me a key to character. Who will test 
 my power?" 
 
 One by one did the company pass before her, and the 
 prescience she displayed was most marvellous. The lines 
 of the hand seemed pregnant with meaning, and the past 
 life of each individual was read with an accuracy that 
 gave importance to her predictions for the future. Scenes 
 were recalled to many that had long been forgotten, 
 loves that had been disappointed, hopes that had been 
 31 
 
362 A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 destroyed, prospects that had been blasted, and many a 
 tear was shed at the recollection of some old grief re 
 vealed by the power of that singular woman. 
 
 At length Mr. Harlowe presented his hand for exami 
 nation. Gazing upon it a moment intently, with a voice 
 choked by emotion, she said, " Here is violence and 
 strife; the line of life is crossed by threads of bitter 
 ness and woe, and the whole of its deep course is marked 
 by traces of grief. Tears, tears are here, and the lines 
 of psnitence and anguish of soul are strangely interwoven 
 with the strong lines of resolution. I see that a deep 
 sorrow is yours, the result of fierce passion, repented 
 of and suJxlued. Is it not so? " 
 
 She fixed her eyes suddenly upon Mr. Harlowe's face. 
 It was pa 11 id* as death, and the tears stood in his eye. 
 " Yes," answered he, and trembled as he spoke ; " God 
 knows my sin, and God knows my repentance. Secret 
 tears have been my portion for years; and, O, what would 
 I not give if the memory of my wrong might be wiped 
 away!" 
 
 He bowed his head upon his hands, and sobbed in the 
 anguish of his spirit, and Mrs. Harlowe wept in sym 
 pathy with her husband, whose deep grief she hud thus 
 discovered, which had long been concealed beneath the 
 calm exterior of philosophical resignation. 
 
 " Woman ! " he cried at List, " what is the future of 
 this picture? Is there no balm in store for my wounded 
 spirit I >; He grasped her hand forcibly, as if he would 
 have wrung from it an answer to his question. 
 
 " Yes," said she, with deep emotion, " there is a future 
 of peace and happiness in store for you, and the sun of 
 
A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 368 
 
 your declining years shall be radiant with serene splen 
 dor, and, thank God, who has given me power to verify 
 my prophecy, " Father ! mother ! behold your son ! " 
 
 He threw off his ragged habiliments as he spoke, 
 removed the gray and matted hair from his brow, and 
 the patches from his cheeks, and stood before the com 
 pany in the noble form matured in manly strength 
 and beauty of Frank Harlowc. 
 
 There was a new joy in the bouse that night at the 
 wanderer's return, and tears and smiles mingled at the 
 recital of his story. The wide world he had travelled, 
 and he had learned and profited by the lessons it had 
 taught him. He had returned home rich in gold, but 
 he was richer in the spirit he had gained. It had 
 become softened by the trials it had suffered, until it had 
 brought him back to his father's house, and to his moth 
 er's feet. 
 
 His letters home had failed to reach their destination, 
 and, deeming himself an outcast, he had at length refused 
 to write at all. He had married a lady of wealth, and 
 had become a denizen of a fur-away city. But the 
 thoughts of home pressed upon him, and the smile of his 
 mother haunted his sleep with fond persistence, and he 
 longed to see once more the " old, familiar faces" that 
 were his companions in childhood. He had thus come 
 back to revisit the homo of his early life. Stopping at 
 the hotel he had made such inquiries concerning his old 
 friends as led him into the secret of their past lives. 
 Then, assuming his disguise, he went to his father's 
 house in the manner above stated. The secret of his 
 soothsaying ability was thus revealed. The whole of 
 

 364 A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Christmas night was occupied with the story of Frank's 
 adventures, and in thanksgivings for the reunion. 
 
 The next summer a splendid mansion graced the hill 
 opposite the old homestead, which soon became and is 
 now the residence of Frank Uarlowe, Esq., who, retired 
 from business, has here settled down to enjoy himself 
 amid the never-forgotten scenes of his boyhood, and to 
 endeavor to make np by attention to his parents for the 
 long years he had failed in his duty to them. 
 
 Mr. Harlowe is a happy old man, and instils it as a 
 sacred lesson into the minds of his grandchildren to 
 beware of cultivating a hasty temper, which had been so 
 full of misery to himself. 
 
MRS. PARTINGTON AMONG THE ANIMALS. 
 
 365 
 
 MRS. P. AMONG THE ANIMALS. 
 
 * 3 a carr y van > 
 
 don't you? " said Mrs. 
 Partington at the me 
 nagerie. " May be it 
 is ; but I should like 
 to know where the 
 silks and other costive 
 things are that we 
 
 read of, which the carry vans . carry 
 over the deserts of Sarah, in the 
 eastern country." 
 
 " The elephant has them in his trunk, marm," replied 
 the keeper. 
 
 "Then that is the reason, I s'pose, why he always 
 carries it before him, so he can have an eye on it. But 
 what is this animal with a large wart on his nose ? " 
 
 " That is the gnu, marm." 
 
 " Mercy on me !" exclaimed Mrs. P., " this must be 
 one of them foreign news that the steamer brings over. 
 They feed 'em, I dare say, on potatoes and vegetables, 
 and that is why breadstuff's and flour are so awful dear 
 most always after they arrive ! " and the old lady left 
 soon after, full of new light, and admiration for the 
 monkeys. 
 
 31* 
 
366 A LEAP FROM MEMORY. 
 
 A LEAF FROM MEMORY. 
 
 As Mrs. Partington stepped from the steamboat, she 
 perused the signboard which requested passengers not to 
 leave till the boat was secured to the drop. 
 
 " How different from my poor Paul ! " murmured she, 
 as memory awakened something long forgotten. " How 
 different from, my poor Paul ! for he never would leave 
 till the c drop ' was secured to him. Dear, dear I it seems 
 as if I could see him now, holding to his lovely lips the 
 big quart tumbler, which he used to call his 'horn of 
 plenty ; ' and plenty it was, to be sure, and often too 
 much for him. How much better off he T d have been if 
 he had n't taken such deep importations ! " 
 
 And she passed up the steamboat wharf, her mind 
 still pondering on the inscription that had so vividly 
 recalled the past, and did n r t even recognize the minister 
 as he bowed his sedate neck to her. 
 
 IT is often shocking to perceive, in " thrilling tales 
 of the seas," the indifference with which authors tell us 
 of the winds " whistling through the shrouds ! " as if 
 such wanton levity did n't deserve a rebuke. 
 
PEACEFUL COGITATIONS. 367 
 
 PEACEFUL COGITATIONS. ; 
 
 will distention and strife cease amon^ our 
 
 foreign relation.* ? " said Mrs. Partington with a sigh, as 
 she looked abstractedly at the black profile on the wall, 
 as if she thought it could answer the question. " When 
 will distention cease ? The peace congress did n't do no 
 good 'a I see, for the Rushins and Austriches are a 
 carryin' on jest as bad as ever they did, commit tin' all 
 sorts of oVtridgcs and wrongs on the Hung'ry. Heaven 
 never smiles on them that distresses the poor. We 
 ought to hold the Rushers and all that belongs to 'em 
 in excrescence, I don't know a^out hating the Rushy 
 Salve, though, because that Iia'n't done us no harm, 
 and the Austriches, too, that lives on nails and gimblets, 
 that the wild-beast man told us al>out the onnaterul 
 heathen ! Then the Frenchmen are all in a commotion, 
 and I should think they would be, eat in' frogs and sich 
 things, and the English ministers are quarrel in' like 
 ' dog's delight/ Where it will end I can't see/' 
 
 She laid down the Times as she said "I can't see," 
 and Ike. who had been burning off the outside pages of 
 Leavitt's Almanac while she was speaking, here poked 
 the light out, leaving the room and the subject 
 in the dark. 
 
868 iluME MISSIONS. 
 
 HOME MISSIONS. 
 
 " So Mrs. Brattle has became a member of the Homo 
 Missions/' said Mrs. Partington. " Well, I am rejoiced 
 to hear it ; for her poor husband's sake ; for, though I 
 think it a husband's duty to help about house some, he 
 should n't be left to wash and cook for himself and chil 
 dren, and mend his own clothes, as poor Brattle has had 
 to while she was running round. I hope the home 
 missions will keep her at home now ;" and the old lady 
 stirred her souchong with animation, as she made the 
 comment, and did n r t see that Ike was making tremen 
 dous havoc with the pound-cake. 
 
 IT is astonishing what opposite effects will be produced 
 by the same cause. As, for instance, suppose a black 
 ing, whose principal component is alcohol; its effect, 
 when applied to boots, is apparent in the cracking of the 
 leather, and in the opening of fissures admitting the free 
 passage of water ; when applied to man, in quantity, the 
 same fluid has the effect of making him " tight." 
 
OLD ROGER AND THE BOARDERS. 300 
 
 OLD ROGER AND THE BOARDERS. 
 
 OLD ROGER attempted the following upon the board 
 ers one morning. They were all sitting quietly at 
 breakfast, when, with a most provoking smile around the 
 corners of his mouth, as if he himself fully appreciated 
 what he was going to say, he asked if any of them could 
 tell him why a man deeply impressed with reverence was 
 like a very hungry one. The idea of hunger associated 
 with the bountiful board at which they were seated, 
 caused the blood to rush through every vein of the land 
 lady's body, to her face, for she felt hurt. Th- boarders 
 all said they did n't know, they could n't see the least 
 resemblance. 
 
 "Why," said he, chuckling, "it is because he in 
 wardly feels a gna. ." 
 
 They could n't understand that he meant "an awe," 
 and he said it was no use talking to men whose stomachs 
 were full of the bounties of life. This he said to pro 
 pitiate the landlady, who was all smiles again, as bright 
 and sparkling as the coffee in his cup, which, catching 
 the rays of the sun, danced and shimmered on the wall 
 overhead. 
 
370 BAD TEMPERS. GIVING THANKS. 
 
 BAD TEMPERS. 
 
 "How these shopkeepers will fib it !" said Mrs. 
 Partington, with an expression of pain on her venerable 
 features ; " that young man I bought these needles of 
 said they were good-tempered ; only see how spitefully 
 this one has masecrated my finger." 
 
 She held up the wounded member, a small red spot 
 denoting the injury. The sewing-circle sympathized 
 with her. 
 
 " It will feel better, I dare say, after it has done 
 aching," continued she, as she took the last stitch in a 
 "thick little boy's jacket," and rolled up her work for 
 the day. Many a pair of razeed trousers has the world 
 seen added to its wealth, and the world never knew where 
 they came from perhaps did n't care. 
 
 GIVING THANKS. 
 
 " MAY the Lord make us thankful for the critter com 
 forts spread out before us!" said Deacon Haze, over the 
 hard-boiled beef on the table. 
 
 " Well, perhaps he will," says Mrs. Partington to 
 herself; " but it seems to me it would be easier to be 
 thankful if the meat was tenderer;" and then, like a 
 b'arefooted boy, she went cautiously among the muscles. 
 
A GOOD DEAL OP TRUTH. 371 
 
 A GOOD DEAL OF TRUTH. 
 
 "POOR Gills' Fair!" said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 spelled out the inscription upon a flag that swung across 
 Washington street, her eyes dimming with the vapors 
 that arose from her warm heart ; " Poor girls' fare ! 
 indeed they do, and fare -hard, too, God help 'em, many 
 of T em, fare hard with them that should treat 'em 
 better, trying to rise till all their risible powers is gone, 
 and they are shiprackcd and cast away and driv to mak 
 ing trows is and shirts for a living, and die on it. I do 
 pity 'em." 
 
 A melancholy tone pervaded her speech and thoughts 
 the rest of the day ; her snuff, the choicest maccahoy, 
 bore a taint of wormwood and rue; her tea was salt, as 
 if tears were an ingredient in its composition ; her specs 
 revealed red eyes in every visitor, and the faces of th< 
 "poor girls " looked out at her from the teapot and thu 
 sugar-bowl, the lamp, and the little scrap-box on the 
 work-table. Bless her kind heart ! 
 
 TIIERE is a wide difference between the throes of an 
 expiring Titan and the throws of a straggling tight un. 
 
372 POLITICAL EXTRAVAGANCE REBUKED. 
 
 POLITICAL EXTRAVAGANCE RE 
 BUKED. 
 
 " I DON'T blame people for complaining about the 
 extravagance and costiveness of government," said Mrs. 
 Partington, as she was reading an ardent appeal to the 
 people in a political newspaper. She always took an 
 interest in politics after Paul was defeated one year as a 
 candidate for inspector. "I don't blame 'cm a mite. 
 Here they are now, going to canvassing the state, as if 
 the airth was n't good enough for 'em to walk on. I 
 wonder why they don't get ile-cloth or Kidminister, and 
 done with it" 
 
 " And I heard yesterday," said Ike, putting his small 
 oar in, " that some of 'em was going to scour the country 
 to get voters." 
 
 " Well," continued she, "that would be better than 
 throwing dustln the people's eyes, as they say some of 
 'em do. Canvassing the state, indeed ! " 
 
 She fell into an abstraction on the schemes of poli 
 ticians, and took seven pinches of snuff, in rapid succes 
 sion, to aid Iier deliberations. 
 
 
 
SLCiuU- III DING. 
 
 878 
 
 SLEIGH-RIDING. 
 
 gfc 
 
 /5335Bp 
 
 , XMMT***^ 
 
 s the last paving-stone hides 
 itself beneath the descend 
 ing snow, the jingle of the 
 bells informs us that sleigh 
 ing 's come, and from that 
 minute riding on runners becomes a mania. Every young 
 head, and some pretty old heads, are full of expedients 
 for fun. Boys hunt up their sleds and dash out of doors. 
 to the terror of nervous mammas, who prophesy disaster 
 dire for their progeny. The old sleighs and new sleighs, 
 the big sleighs and little 'sleighs, are put in requisition, 
 and the streets are full of the " music of the bells, bells, 
 bells ! " All the day long their silvery notes are sound 
 ing in our ears, and late o' nights staid citizens who are 
 staying at home are disturbed by the frantic yells of 
 returning sleigh-parties, mingling with the noise of bells, 
 making the hour hideous; or the sound of voices in 
 cheerful song making melody with the tintinabulous 
 accompaniment. We like to hear this last; ^e gladly 
 
 82 
 
374 SLEIGH-RIDING. 
 
 listen to its approach as we snuggle beneath the blankets 
 in the watches of the night, and distinguish the chord of 
 male and female voices in some familiar strain, and are 
 almost sorry to hear it melt away upon the midnight air, 
 in distance, like voices heard in dreams. 
 
 There ustu to be great sport to us in sleighing, 
 though we never were sanguinary; but time has tem 
 pered us by matters of graver import. We can indulge 
 now in little beside our daily omnibus rides, and can 
 hardly realize in these the buoyancy of old enthusiasm. 
 We watch for the appearance of our domicil, coming to 
 meet us, and pull the check-string at our door, careful 
 not to go a step beyond, so little do we feel now about 
 riding. But in the old time Jehu ! how our heart 
 leaped to the music of the bells ! how quickly our pulse 
 throbbed to the maddening impulse of the moment as we 
 quiet and sedate though we now are flew over the 
 slippery road. Ili-yah ! hi-yah ! hi -yah ! how we 
 dashed on our course, leaving house and tree and mile 
 stone behind us ! We knew no greater speed than this, 
 for it was ante-railroad time,: and the " iron-horse" 
 we think some one has given it this name before | had 
 not then " annihilated space," as we believe somebody 
 has said. We loved to feel the cool air revel upon our 
 check and whistle among our hair, and, as it came up 
 from over the smoothly frozen ponds, with stinging force, 
 we laughed at its violence in the glow of excitement. 
 The hoar-frost gleamed upon hair, and eyelash, and fur 
 collar, and our breath streamed away behind us on the 
 cold air, like steam. Ili-yah ! hi-yah ! hi-yah ! wo 
 
SLEIGH-RIDING. 375 
 
 cried. The old pine-woods echoed the eldritch scream, 
 and people in distant cottages caught the sound, and 
 listened to the unusual strain, and the wood-choppers 
 ceased from their labors to catch a glimpse of the fleeting , 
 fiends that awakened such strange echoes. Then a stop 
 at "mine inn," and the old-fashioned "suthin* hot" 
 we took mulled cider, of course made all right for the 
 return, and a ride by starlight closed the day's joy. It 
 was joy then. It was long before we knew Mrs. Part- 
 ington and Ike, and the perplexity of types. 
 
 Ghosts of big sleighs come up before us, brimfull of 
 happy people nestled beneath the buffaloes, and hats 
 and hoods occupy alternate positions throughout the 
 party. Pleasant voices come back to us, and the " old 
 familiar faces" renew themselves to us. Delightful ! 
 But as memory recalls the happy scene, the thought of a 
 fair form and face, the brightest of the group, flits like a 
 spirit across our mind, leaving behind a shadow of sorrow 
 and gloom. Ah, Maria ! The sweet eye and voice that 
 animated and blessed us aro now blessing other spheres 
 the music of that glad tongue is now attuned to the 
 music of celestial harmonies. There is no memory of 
 joy that we may recall, however bright, but has some 
 woe connected intimately with it, and twinned smiles and 
 tears make up the sum of the past. 
 
 " Hi-yah ! hi-yah ! hi-yah ! " comes up to our domicil 
 and startles us as we write ; and, dashing along the nearly 
 deserted street alarming ponderous watchmen on their 
 walk a sleigh comes furiously by, and another, and 
 another, and the music of the bells chimes gratefully 
 
376 SLBIOH-RIDINU. 
 
 upon our ear. Here is a sleigh-ride song, that may 
 do to sing some time, if any one can find a tune to 
 fit it: 
 
 Over the snow, over the snow, 
 Away we go, away we go ! 
 
 The earth gleams white 
 
 'Neath the stirs to-night, 
 
 Ami all is bright 
 
 Above and below. 
 
 Old Care good-by, old Care good-by, 
 From you we fly, from you we fly 
 
 As if on wings, 
 
 Our fleet steed springs, 
 
 And the welkin rings 
 With our joyous cry. 
 
 . Gay Mirth la here, gay Mirth is here, : 
 
 Our hearts- to cheer, our hearts to cheer ; 
 While on we glide, 
 There 's one by our side 
 To cheer or to chide, 
 
 Who is always dear. 
 
 Over the snow, over the snow, 
 Away we go, away we go ! 
 
 There 'a freedom rare 
 
 Abroad in the air, 
 
 Everywhere, 
 
 Above and below. 
 
HUNK FOR THE UNION. 877 
 
 HUNK FOR THE UNION. 
 
 " THE Union dissolved ! " said Mrs. Partington, with 
 her specs upon her forehead, and her finger raised, as if 
 admonishing the universe. "Dissolve the Union! and 
 who would dare assassinate such a thing as that, such 
 an outrage on the body's politics ? I thought it would 
 come to this. And if they dissolve the Union, which on 
 'em will have the children? or will they let 'em grow 
 up without nobody to look arter their moral training, 
 poor things? Never think of dissolving it, nor breaking 
 it ' What God has joined together let not man put us 
 under/ and that 's gospel truth ; and they can't do it, 
 if we stick by each other." 
 
 With what an emphatic, italic jerk the snuff-box came 
 out, as she concluded speaking! The remembrance of 
 her felicitous union with Paul crossed her mind, and the 
 remembered pain of its dissolution mingled with her 
 patriotic emotion, and she dropped a tear as she uttered, 
 " What would our foreign relations think of it? " The 
 union was safe from that day, thenceforth and forever. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON says it seems to her a queer pro 
 vision of natur that eggs should be " skeerce " when they 
 are so dear. 
 
 32* 
 
878 LEAF FROM PIIILANTHROPOS' JOURNAL. 
 
 LEAF FROM PIIILANTIIROPOS' JOURNAL. 
 
 MONDAY morning, 7 A. M. Summoned to the door 
 when shaving. A boy after cold victuals. Sorry we had 
 none. Ours were all hot. These evils come not as sin 
 gle spies, b'Jt in battalions. Seven beggar boys in suc 
 cession for cold victuals. Strange that they should be so 
 anxious to have it cold. It shows a corrupt taste. Prob 
 ably the vitiating effect of poverty. 
 
 8 A.M. Woman and child asking alms. Heart bled 
 for them. Strong smell of gin. Persuaded that it was 
 a gentle soporific for child, nothing more. Subject to 
 colic. Husband in California been there three years. 
 Seven children dependent on her exertions. Did n't 
 seem to exert herself much. Promised to call and see 
 her. 
 
 9 A. M. Foreigner with a certificate. Fine-looking 
 man. Certificate reads right. Signed " John Smith." 
 Honest-soundinjr name ! Think I ; vc heard it before. 
 
 O 
 
 Horrible volcano in Italy. Swallowed up his vineyard, 
 and threw him and a large family upon the world. Heav 
 en help him ! Can't speak a word of English. Told me 
 so himself. Felt strongly inclined to aid him. Will 
 hand his name to the Wandering Samaritan Society. 
 
 10 A. BI. Drossed to go out. Gentleman, a stranger, 
 asked me if I had a ninepence in my pocket, and if I 
 would loan it to him to procure a letter from the post- 
 office. Sorry I had n't the precise amount, but gave him 
 
TRAINING DAYS. 379 
 
 a dime. Was surprised to sec him go into a drinking- 
 house. Suppose it must be one of the new sub-offices. 
 
 11 A. M. Asked by a little barefoot boy for a cent. 
 Implored me. for his mother's sake, to give him one. 
 Knew the deceptions of this kind of taggars, and refused. 
 The urchin called me a most scandalous name, and fol 
 lowed behind me, repeating it, though several of my 
 friends were in hearing. Gave him a quarter to get rid 
 of him. Shall never forget the horrid leer he gave me. 
 Great depravity. 
 
 TRAINING DAYS. 
 
 "I DON ? T object to training-days altogether," said 
 Mrs. Partington to the Major, as the Ancient and Hon- 
 orubles passed heir door; "the dress looks well, and 
 the children likes the music ; and I know this is moral 
 training, because the Governor is there and his suet, with 
 his chateau on his head and his sword by his side. How 
 finely he does look ! So bold and portable ! I de 
 clare, he looks too good to be a malicious officer !" 
 
 She here leaned out of the door to catch a last view 
 of the " corpse " as it turned a near corner, and a portly- 
 looking gentleman under a cocked hat waved his hand to 
 her as the pageant swept from her view. Mrs. Parting- 
 ton resumed her knitting, that had been disturbed by the 
 music. 
 
880 LIFE LIFE HOW CURIOCS IT IS, 
 
 LIFE-LIFE-HOW CURIOUS IT IS. 
 
 "CuRious" is the word we wouldn't have any 
 other, for it expresses the very thing. How curious it 
 is, from the cradle to the grave ! The hopes of the 
 young are curious reaching* forward into the future, and 
 building castles in perspective for their possessors, that 
 will crumble before them ere they arrive at that spot in 
 time where their fabrics are located*. 
 
 How curious it is, the first dawning of love, where the 
 young heart surrenders itself to its dreams of bliss, illu 
 mined with stars and garnished with moonshine ! How 
 curious it is, when matrimony crowns the wishes, and 
 cares, fancied to be surmounted by ardent hearts, arc 
 found to be but just commenced f How curious it is ! says 
 the young mother, as she spreads upon hers the tiny 
 hand of her babe, and endeavors tp read in its dim lines 
 the fortunes of her child. Curious indeed would such 
 revealings be, could she there read them. 
 
 How curious it is, the greed for gain that marks and 
 mars the life of man, leading him away after strange 
 gods, forgetting all the object and good of life in a heart 
 less chase for a phantom light, that leaves him at lust in 
 three-fold Egyptian darkness ! How curious it is, the 
 love of life that clings to the old, and draws them back 
 imploringly to the scenes of earth begging for a long 
 er look at time and its frivolities, with eternity and its 
 joys within their reach f How curious it is, when at last 
 
AN INTERESTING FACT. 331 
 
 the great end draws nigh the glazing eye, the struggle, 
 the groan, proclaiming dissolution, and the still clay that 
 denotes the extinguishment of the spark known as life ! 
 How curious it is, that the realities of the immortal world 
 should be based upon the crumbling ashes of this, and 
 that the path to infinite light should lie through the dark 
 shadow of the grave ! How curious it is, in its business 
 and pleasures, its joys and sorrows, its hopes and fears, 
 its temptations and triumphs ! And as we contemplate life 
 in all its phases we must exclaim " How curious it is ' " 
 
 AN INTERESTING FACT. 
 
 DR. Dioa and Old Roger were conversing upon won 
 ders in nature, and the doctor had given a long account 
 of discoveries he had made, during his travels in the East, 
 of intelligence in different kinds of animals the ele 
 phant, the ichneumon, and Oxford County boar, being 
 particularly mentioned for their sagacity. With regard 
 to the last-named description of animals, he relied princi 
 pally upon the testimony of his friend Fitzwhistler, who 
 had given him some wonderful particulars concerning 
 their habits, Mr. F. having stated to him, during a con 
 versation, that the Oxford County bear has been known 
 to be at times devotedly attached to New England rum, 
 and to make no great scruples about using, now and then, 
 tobacco in its various forms, which he considered a degree 
 of intelligence very nearly approximating to the refine 
 ment of human civilization, and surpassing that of all 
 other animals. 
 
382 NEW PATENTS. 
 
 Roger admitted the truth in the main of what tho 
 doctor submitted, hut said that however much he was dis 
 posed to yield to Fitzwhistler and the doctor in most 
 matters, in this one particular of superiority he must 
 dif&r from them, for there were animals in his own State, 
 New Hampshire, that excelled them all. The doctor had 
 not claimed for either class he had named any knowledge 
 in mathematics ; but, from a long residence in the Granite 
 State, he had found it generally known that among the 
 serpent family there were frequently found great adders. 
 
 The doctor, with that grcutness of mind so character 
 istic of the individual, immediately tendered his hat to 
 Roger, who magnanimously placed it again upon the 
 pundit's head. 
 
 . 
 
 NEW PATENTS. 
 
 WE often read, in Patent-office reports, of patents being 
 granted for improvement in " governors." We don't 
 care how much governors are improved, and all efforts in 
 this direction will receive the full " consent of the gov 
 erned." We have seen, too, not long since, that a patent 
 has been given for an improvement in "railing." This 
 invention must be of vast utility in quarrelsome neigh 
 borhoods, where the quality of the railing has long needed 
 improvement. 
 
BRIEF ANSWERS. 883 
 
 BRIEF ANSWERS. 
 
 _ I 
 
 IT is a terrible affliction to fall into the hands of one 
 who either cannot or will not answer a question directly 
 who wi'l either evade a direct answer, or, by an ever 
 lasting prolixity in replying, render his information use 
 less. The question you ask, like the eye of the '" ancient 
 mariner," holds you fast, and you cannot escape until, as 
 the reviewers say, you " arrive at the end of the volume." 
 For instance, Mr. Walker is out in the country and go 
 ing towards a certain place. He is in doubt about what 
 direction he shall take, and asks a man, whom he meets, 
 the way to . '"Why," the man replies, after hesi 
 tating for five minutes, " if you should go back a quarter 
 of a mile, you could take the road that leads round by 
 the old mill but that T d be a little further ; or you can 
 take the road straight ahead, and get over the wall and 
 cut across, only there y s a swamp in the way, which 'd 
 bring you about half a mile out of the way ; or you may 
 go through Deacon Willy's pasture you can see his barn 
 from here and, when you come to the barn, take t'le path 
 that leads through the woods this is the furthcrest way, 
 but the galls allcrs go through this way when they go home 
 with their sweethearts ; or you can go up the road to 
 ,he left, and when you come to the cross roads, turn to the 
 ight ; or the shortest way is for you to go right ahead, 
 ind you '11 get there in half an hour." 
 
884 ORGANS. 
 
 ORGANS. 
 
 " A QUIET tone is observable in the Russian organs ! " 
 said Mrs. Partingtcn, as the line in the telegraph news 
 arrested her eye. She mused upon it a moment. 
 " Church organs, I dare say; and we heard the other 
 day that the Emptier of Russia dear, pious man! 
 was organizing his soldiers to go and give the gospel to 
 the Turks at the point of the bayonet. Quiet-toned 
 organs ! Well, I wonder if they won't get one for our 
 church, that '11 play nothing but serious tunes, for the one 
 we 've got '11 play Yankee Doodle jest as well as Old 
 Hundred, and for my part I don't put no faith into it" 
 She looked at the vane, on the top of a distant spire, that 
 turned in the wind, and mixed its variableness with 
 church organs that played many tunes, and men of the 
 church as variable as the organs, while Ike was teasing 
 the kitten with a bran-new cap-border thai the old lady 
 was just doing up. 
 

THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
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348459 
 
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 Life and sayings 
 of Mrs. Partington, 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS