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RU TH F' A It 1: I N GTO N




LIFE AcND SAYINGS
or
MARS. PARTINGTON,
AND
OTHERS OF TIIE FAMIILY.
EDVTt'bD BY
B. P. SHIIILABER,
OF THE BOSTON POST.
"I did fynde her a woman of manye words, yet of a verie pleasaunte fancie withl,
and havynge much good cownselle." —DOCT. DIGG XHIS WORKS: Jib. cxl.; Art. —
"Mistresse Unis Hyte."
DERBY & JACKSON, 119 NASSAU ST.,
1860.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year t"5, by
B. P. SHILLABER,
En the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetta
STEREOTYPED BY
HOBART & ROBBINS,
ENW LNGLAND TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOCUNDIRT,
BOSTON.




TO TEB
FRIENDS OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
WHCSB FAVOR HAS ENCOURAGED
THE OLD LADY
IN HER-1 ECCOENT1Cti              SAYIN('
THIS VOLUUIE
o  3I33PSECTIVELY" DEDICATED.








PREFATORY.
MRS. PARTINGTON once declined an introduction 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'in apology for
many a bad one; a smile attending the utterance 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.  Perhaps 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




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 blazing away, unseen! - 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 respectable.
The origin and object of the Partington " sayings" 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 publication of a book, the author has secured under
the guarantee of his copy-right. There might be
no necessity for this, where 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 mop. Because,
forsooth, he had spoken of Mrs. Partington's
sweeping back the Atlantic with her broom, would
lie claim the illustrious PAUL, and the roguish
ISAAC, and the jocose ROGER, and the great PHILANTHROPOS, and the poetical WIDESWARTH, 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 covers of this book that the sponsor of Mrs. Partington has written beneath the inspiration of her geniality, to the influence of which alone their merit,
if they possess any, is to be attributed. Her portrait looks down upon him now as he writes, and
her pleasant voice seems inwoven with the souchong smile it sheds, and seems to say,
"PRINT  A BOOK."




CONTENTS.
PAGE                              PAGU
THE BIOGRAPHY,....  13 A Striking Manifestation,..   8o
Mild Weather,......  47 Ike and the Elephant,...   84
The China Question,..... 49 A Substitute,.......    85
Sympathy,........... 50 Wholesome Advice,.....   86
Paul's Ghost,.......   51 A Ghost Story,......  87
Ike so Tender-hearted,.... 54 A Dangerous Position,.... 89
Look Up..........            55 A Lesson on Sympathy,...  90
A Solemn Fact,.......  57 How Ike Dropped the Cat,. 91
New Remedy for a Drought,. 58 Stopping a'Bus,......  94
"Hear that Voice,".....  59 After a Wedding......  95
Mrs. Partington Penned,...  60 Mrs. P. in the Market,....   96
The Soda Fountain,.....  61 Partington Philosophy,.... 97
Giving Reasons....... 62 Filial Duty vs. Washing-Powder, 99
A Small Trade........  63 A Serious Question......100
On Locomotion,.......  64: Rather a Rascal....... 101
The Largest Liberty,..... 65 A Bloomer..........         102
Mrs. Partington in Court,... 66 Power of Attorney,.....  104
"Right and Left,"...... 67 The New Dress for Ladies,.. 105
A Little Truth well put,..   68 Psychology,......... 107
Musical Criticism......  69 Matter of Fact,.......  108
Life on the Road,......  70 The Cat and Kittens,.... 109
Fancy Diseases,.......  72 A Point Settled,.......   110
Daguerreotypes,....... 73 Moral Training....... 111
That and That,.......  74 A Little Truth,..... 112
Losing by Politeness,.... 75 tHair-dressing........  113
On Politics......... 75 Omnibus-riding,....... 114
Beautiful Reflection Interrupted, 77 Auriferous Meditations,...116
Appointing Inspectors,.... 78 Ike and the Oranges,.... 117
Mrs. Partington at Tea,... 79 Patriotism,.........        118
Sir, you owe me a Cent,....  80 Dull Business,........119
Guessing at a Name..... 81 Antiquity in a Shower,...   120
Burning Water,.....          82 The National Epic,..... 121




X                           CONTENTS.
PAGE                               PAG1E
The Maine Liquor Bill,....122 Varicose Veins........ 163
Take Things Easy,...... 123 Mrs. P. on Vacation,.....164
Carried away with Music,.. 124 Torchlight Patriotism,.... 165
Mrs. Partington in Trouble,.125  Mrs. Partington on Suffrage,.166
Influenza,......   126 Down with the Tyrant,.... 167
An Answer,.........         126 Mrs. P. and the Clerk,....168
Mutton Custard,....... 127 Thanksgiving Day..... 169
The "IReligious Test,"...  128 Peace Inculcated,...... 172
Mrs. P.'s Idea of Humor,...129 Human Nature....... 172
A Great Curiosity,...... 129 Mr. Steadfast's Soliloquy,.. 173
Mrs. P. on Extraditicn,...130 Mrs. Partington Ruralizing,.174
Irreverent........           130 Ventilation,.....     175
Indignation Meeting,....  131 Letter from Ike,....... 176
How to get out of an Omnibus, 136 Out of Place,........         178
A Literal Construction,....137 Tender Name...... 179
A Legitimate Conclusion,... 138 Learning to Relish It,... 180
An Epigram,........  138 Phlebotomy a Disease,....181
Question Answered,....139 Hirsute Ornaments,..... 182
The Test Refused......  139 Mrs. P. and Probate..... 183
A Wholesome Lesson,....140 Domestic Purity Impugned,. 184
A Bootless Case....... 141 Did it Hurt you Much... 185
Perhaps True........ 141 "Fare, Ma'am,"..... 189
Old Roger's New Hat,... 142 Paying Promptly,..... 190
Christmas Reflection,.....143  " Memento Mory,"....191
Reflection about Mosquitos,.. 144 Mesmerism.......... 192
A Passable Joke,.......145 A Slight Mistake,...... 193
A Porcine Exposure,.....146 Considerably True......193
A Nave in the Church,....147 Old Bull's Concert,......194:
A Queer Association,.....148 Angular Saxons,.... 195
The Pundit Punned...... 149 Water Gas,......... 196
Punch in the Head,..... 150 Mrs. Partington at the Opera,. 197
Matter of Fact and Sentiment, 153 A Slight Misapprehension,.. 198
Commiseration for Clerks,.. 154 Apollyon Bonypart...... 199
The Bouquet,.....        1.. 155 Paul and Politics,......200
Mrs. P. on Ventilation,... 156 A Prediction...         201
Our Relations with Mexico,. 157 The Dessert,....... 202
The First of April,....-   158 Boston Music Hall...           202
An Inquiry Answered,... 159 Trousseau of Princess Wasa,.203
Bailed Out........  160 Stock of the Revolution,.. 204
Have you got a Baby...  161 Philosophy of Country IIealth, 205
A Home Truth,......   162 The Promenade,......20t
A Seasonable Pun,...... 162 Mrs. Partington in the Crowd, 207




CONTENTS.                            Xr
PAGI                              PAGN
A Cereous Matter,......     208 On Elocution,. ~.....         255
Ancient and Modern Remedies, 209 Outrage,......... 256
Mr. Slow in the Moon,....   210 Ike in the Country,.....      257
My Little Boy.......  211 The New Year, an Allegory,. 259
MIy Little Boy.......   215 The Architectural Black Eye,. 261
Mrs. Partington on Remedies,. 219 Seeking a Comet,...... 262
A New Instrument,.... 219 Benevolence Unappreciated,. 263
Criticism.......... 220 The Parting Word,...... 264
Bleak House.........        221 On Ghosts,.......... 276
Admiration for Eloquence,.. 221 Stage Companionship,.... 277
Naves of the Crystal Palace,. 222 Mr. Smith and his Boy,... 278
Mr. Bisbee's Confession,.. 223 Mr. Slow upon Moral Worth,. 279
Germania Band....... 227 Mr. Slow of Soundings,... 280
A Good Suggestion......       228 An Editor a Little Heated,.. 281
Catching an Omnibus,....    229 Don't Cut it, Miss,.....    282
Ike in a New Position,... 230 Twenty-nine Cats..... 283
Unpopular Doctrine,.....   231 Signs of Matrimony,.....     284
-Benevolence,........232 Mrs. Partington on Tobacco,. 285
Mysterious Action of Rats,.. 233 Guitar in the tead,.... 286
Mrs. P. on the Mississippi,.. 234 A Singular Fact,......  286
Provisions of the Constitution, 235 A IJit at the Times,..... 287
Severe, but Just,..... 236 The Poor Printer,..... 288
Mrs. Partington and Piety,.  236 Mr. Slow on Grave Topics,.. 290
Bricks and Straw,..... 237 Paying an Old Debt..... 291
Medallic Prospects......237 Operatic Rebuke,....... 293
Mrs. Partington Beating Up,. 238 " Smith &       "... 294
A Dead Shot.........         239 Old Roger in an Omnibus,.. 296
Shocking Joke...... 239 A Woman that One could Love, 297
Riding............. 210 Introducing the Water,...  298
Mrs. Partington Looking Out,. 242 Rather Funny,....... 300
Foreseeing Things Beforehand, 243 On one String,.......300
A Sinuosity,.2......      4.21 Seeking the Light,..... 301
The Science of Fish...... 245 Judging Virtue by its Smell,. 302
Eternal Indebtedness,.... 246 Abuses of the Press,..... 302
Borrowing Newspapers,... 246 Mouse-hunting........303
Promising Children.... 247 Star-gazing,........ 307
Forgiveness of Wrong...248 Mrs. P. on Mount Vesuvius,. 308
A Negative Affirmative,..  249 The Pic-nic,........          309
Taking Pictures,.... 250 An Excellent Test of Affection, 319
Precocity,..........        251 High-Dutch vs. Politeness,.. 320
Mr. Thimble's Mouse-trap,.. 252 Good Taste..........321
Mra. Partington vs. Cook-book, 254 Old Roger much Excited,.,. 322




XII                         CONTEN TS.
PAGE                               PAG]3
Rare Dun,........323 A Queer Conceit,......350
The Bear-skins,.......       324 Mrs. Partington on Colporters, 351
Awful Dewy,........          325 Fourth of July.......  352
A Slight Misapprehension,.. 326 Seeing the Fireworks,.      353
Peppercase Rebuked,.... 327 The Telegraph,....... 354
A Remembered Mistake,.. 328 A Story for Christmas....355
Mrs. P. and Jenny Lind,... 329 Mrs. P. among the Animals,. 365
The Use of the Aztecs,....330 A Leaf from Memory,.... 366
The Brazen Nose,......       331 Peaceful Cogitations,....367
Going to California,.....  336 Home Missions....... 368
A Tough Customer,.....       337 Old Roger and the Boarders,. 369
Funeral Obstacles.....  338 Bad Tempers,........370
Excellent Advice......  339 Giving Thanks......370
Timely Reflection,.......340 A Good Deal of Truth,....371
Preparing to See the President, 341 Political Extravagance,.. 372
A Church Incident,.....342 Sleigh-riding,........ 373
A Dry-good Lesson.....  343 Hunk for the Union,..... 377
A Glance at Poverty,.... 344 Leaf from Philanthropos,.. 378
Slander ers,.........344 Training Days,....... 379
A Stormy Season,...... 345 Life -How Curious It Is,.. 380
Dietetical Counsel,..... 346 An Interesting Fact,....381
Mrs. P. Confers with Paul,.. 347 New Patents,........382
Mrs. Partington at the Play,. 349 Brief Answers,...... 383
Breaches of Faith,...... 350 Organss,.........            384




BIOGRAPHY
OF
MRS. PARTINGTON,
RELICT OF P. P., CORPORAL.
AUL PARTINGTON, whose name is immortalized by its association with that
of the universal MRS. PARTINGTON, a
portion of whose oracular sayings our
book comprises, was a lineal descendant of Seek-the-Kingdom-continually
Partyngetonne, who came from the old
country, by water probably, somewhere
in the early days of our then not very extensive civilization. At that time, people were not in the habit of
putting everything into the papers,as they 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
2




14       BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
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 Partyngetonne " — abbreviated 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 howling of wolyves, or the yelling of savages, - sweet music
both when contrasted with the horror comprised in the
words " PAY THAT BILL!" which had long distressed
him. Here the voice of the dunner 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 supporters of the family name, save what we procure from
the ancient family record, a Dudley Leavitt's Almanac,
on which agricultural memoranda had been kept, and from




BIOGRAPHY OF MIRS. PARTINGTON.         15
the memory of such members of a foregone generation
as remembered the Partington mansion in Beanville, -
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 distinguish it from some old house that had at some previous
time 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
Eddiffyce," 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 " Howse"
is distinctly to be traced among them.




16       BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
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, and 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 Dutch crockery, numerous scriptural scenes, more creditable to the
devotional spirit that conceived, than to the art (or artlessness) 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




BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.          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 Beanville 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.   We 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 in 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 IMRS. 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 firstborn - 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 sincerity of devotion now-a-days, on the part of lovers, she
once spoke of a time when some one would ride a hardtrotting horse ten miles every night, and back, for the
sake of sitting up with her. But no name was mentioned. 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 sublunar scenes several years before the nineteenth century
commenced; consequently, she is older than t1800.  She
was a child, by law, for eighteen years before she became
a woman, and performed the duties " incumbered" 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, emblematic of that throwing forth of gems 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 benevolencesas 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 benevolence which embraces the world in its scope: here speaking 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 barnyard in the month of March. We have tales of appleparings, and attendant scenes and suppers; of huskings
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 OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
stupendous candy pullings, with their customary consequences to broad shirt-collars and cheeks sweeter than
molasses; and slides down-hill on the ox-sled runners,
in winter, that the boys hauled up to the summit, disastrous 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 an 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 struggle to lose it by provoking her hostility. IIostility?
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 perfect. 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. PARTINGTON.         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 circumstance, 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 MRS. 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 venerable Trotter, as it fell from his lips through the aroma of
pigtail tobacco and hard cider.
Alas for Trotter! HIis 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 poultry, 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 fragrance of innumerable virtues, like the spicy odor of
many Christmas dinners,- thou, too, art gone, and
Dog's Bondage may know thee 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 pies, 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 benevolence got far in advance of her grammar in her early




BIOGRAPHY OF 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 portray 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 garment, 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 rendered, - 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 chbpping wood for winter; or to
patiently hold the light in the long winter evenings
when the yokes were to be mended or the harness repaired.  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 remembrance which prompted the mare into an urgent trot
on the last mile home, - though she could n'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. CGn 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 fireplace, 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 Paityngetonne, and when he laid the cornerstone 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 winter, to seat 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 comprised 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 same 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
8




26       BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
throw off the cover that restrained it and escape.  Rtegularly, 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 garden of marigolds. Her sage voice was heard in wise counsel; and in




BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. TARTINGTON.          27
giving the news of who was sick, or dead, or about to
be married, or was n't about to be married, but ought to
be, she was at home.
The time we speak of was near the close of Paul's
career, before the 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. Partington. It were best to make an aggregate of good, and
call it all hers. The herbs that adorned the garret walls
in innumerable paper bags, were not gathered for herself; the balm-of-gilead buds and rum, that occupied their
position in the buffet, were not prepared for her; but at
the first note of distress from a neighbor her aid was ever
ready. She was the first who was sent for on important
occasions, when goodwives must be wakened from theil
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 existence, and gave them a better impression of life than afterexperience verified; and catnip tea and saffiron 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 chronological dates; and in the matter of historical incidents




28       BIOGRAPHY OF MHS. PARTINGTON.
Dudley Leavitt and Mrs. P. generally came out neck.
and-neck.
She had a great reverence for this same almanac, and
we cannot refrain from speaking of an incident in connection with it. She put 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 didn'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 overthrown 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
law.
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 variance 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 OF MRS. PARTINGTON.         29
care and a little camphor had touched. The white floor
of the Partingtonian kitchen was as full of knots as a
map of New Hampshire is of hills, from frequent scourings, 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 fovthe 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. IHer reputation for benevolence was
spread all over the land, like butter upon a hot Johnnycake of her own baking, and her currant-wine for the
sick got a premium for three successive years in the cattle
fair.
Alas that we have not room to pursue the theme
further! We must take a flying leap over many incidents and hasten on.
32




t)
3O       ~BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
When Paul's younger brother, Peter - the Peter that
went' out West," in his youth, whose wife joined the
NI.r mons - died, he sent his little Isaac to the care of
I      ~ ~~~~~~~~i lililI i\\~\\i i  i
Iallowii
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. Ie is
as merry a boy as you vill 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 spontaneously and naturally, as the lambs skip or the birds sing




BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.           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
lewv mischiefs with new zest.  Such is Ike.  He is now
cleven years, just upon the dividing line between accountability and  indulgence, - beyond  which  boyish
mrischief becomes malice, to be trained by the magic of
a leather strap.
Professor Wideswarth, a member of the Partington
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 Valley of Chamouni; 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 to 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 poem we give below: -
MRS. PARTINGTON AT TEA.
Good Mistress P.
Sat sipping her tea,
Sipping it, sipping it, Isaac and she;




BIOGRAPHY  OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
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 see,
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 that 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 rappee
Sorely puzzled the palate of Mistress P




BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.             88
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 sotrow'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 Beanville
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
the 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, " What was
the use of her trying to go agin a railroad? "
It was hard for her to give up the old mansion, endeared 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. PARTINGTON.
picture of the inestimable lady that stands as our frontispiece. 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 uncertainty of mere verbal delineation, and here we have produced 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 unwilling that her
likeness should be thus submitted to the unsparing gaze
of thousands. In vain we urged many illustrious examples of like martyrdom, - of men, who, from pure philanthropy, had sacrificed themselves in the everlasting
reproach of stereotype, from  the never-souring "Old
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 timeworn face, and'his genius achieved its high triumph at
the moment when Paine's gas had become the concen



BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.          85
trated 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 correctness, 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 a glance, the whole character of
the old lady, in her blessed "' liniments," with a benignity, like a cup of Sleeper's best ningyong, irradiating
every feature.  The cap-border 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 meditation; the pinned kerchief; in modest plaits, enfolds a
breast whose every throb is kindly; the knitting-work,
the close attendant upon 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 " ridicule," in whose mysterious depths dwelleth 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 thal




36       BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
snuff-box, and that teapot, the little black one, in the
respective solaces of which the ills of life have found mitigation, and grief has been allayed of half its bitterness.
the amelioration of maccaboy relieving the woes of widowhood, and sorrow finding cessation'neath 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 unbending 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. And carefully 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 withial. 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 written of his deeds
of arms, of his "1 moving accidents by flood and field,"




BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.         37
and dangers in the imminent deadly breaches, of his pa-.
rades in the artillery, and his campaign-dinner once a
year. These remain to be written, and the biographer
of Paul Partington shall set the world aglow with the
recital of deeds that have been hid, like the diamond in
the ashes, but have lost no ray of brilliancy.
It may, however, be well to give a few of these exploits, as illustrative of the character of the person in
whose heroism we may detect an influence that dates from
Dog's Bondage; and nice discriminators may, by close
scrutiny, see therein the fusion of the fiery blood
of Seek-the-Kingdom-continually Partyngetonne - the
trumpeter of Oliver Cromwell - and the gentle outside
current that met, mingled, and softened-the veni, vidi,
vici, of conjugal triumph - and formed no merely
bloody warrior, but a hero, whose sword would be stained
by nothing worse than the mark of cheese that crowned
the board of war.
When the news came, in the "'last war," that the
British had landed on the coast, although nine miles
from Beanville, his voice waked the people from their
slumbers, calling them to arms; it was his plume that
was seen gleaming in the light of the stars, as he dashed
through the town on horseback, urging his steed on
through the mud at the rate of five miles an hour; it
was his warlike skill that arranged the eleven men of
Beanville into a phalanx of attack; and it was his elo4




88       BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
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 Partington, 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 "' 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 fortifications in Boston harbor, he was the first man to enrol
his name; his pickaxe struck the first blow for his
country in this service. I-Is 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          89
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 departed from that hour. Even though a court-martial
was ordered at once, and the sergeant ordered to Ibe 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 see 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 Mlrs. 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 Beanvillk
Artillery, who for twenty years voted annually to erect
a monument to his memory, and then gave it up. The




40        BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
poet of the village, in anticipation of the monument, had
prepared an epitaph, which we subjoin:" Here lies, beneath this heap of earth,
A hero of extensive worth,
A whole-souled man, full six feet tall,
Surnamed Partington, christened Paul."
The parish burying-ground in Beanville, — 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 rests beneath the turf, with naught but a tall sweet-briar to
mark the spot, standing like a sentinel on duty, armed
at all points, and watching the slumber of the hero of'
the Bloody'Leven.  The picture was taken by a travelling artist while riding over the turnpike on the stagecoach, 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 hcr




BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON',         41
by the Beanville Branch Railroad, - and brings Isaac,
and praises the- ancient corporal's virtues,' and tries to
incite the boy's ambition +o 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 confidence leads them to approach the spot and twitter upon
the mullein-stalks that grow rankly by the gate.
WVe 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 uncomfortable 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.
A   -_  ~But, thanks to art, that can
restore the lost and create
that which never existed, that
monument is before us for our
admiration. How many shocks
~~-    of elemental war has that an4*




42       BIOGRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
tiquated block of monumental sculpture withstood successfally - 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! ZBut there
is a glory in 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 clothesline, 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 excitement of the law, she forgot the sorrow that, as she said,
made her nothing but flesh, skin, and bones. The remark 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," 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 forgotten: -"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 honesty was no security against the temptation of plethorio
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 railroad through Beanville, and the Partingtonian mansiol
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       BIOGfRAPHY OF MRS. PARTINGTON.
that he was a pioneer in western civilization; was wounded
in the Black Hawk war, and died on his way to Beanville, 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-Kingdom Partyngetonne, 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 regulationuniform passed them.  "See! " said the boy with animation, " 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 Hyperion fluid is like a satire! " There was 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
Gadsden 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 intruder, the mild gaze of Mrs. Partington 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! Mlacaulay 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.
Mlias. 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 OF1' MRS. PARTINGTON,
with her antecedents and codssociates. 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 biography of no common person, but that of MRS. PARTINGTOi''  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.
1.tFt!aoii                 sbil..h
HIS is grand woeather, mem, foi
poor people," said hr. Tioh, the
rich neighbor of Mrs. Parti n,
on a very warm- day of winter,
and indulged in a half-chuckle
about it as 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 withhe,, —but not Mrs. Partincrton.
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. "1 Yes, and don't folks use this good weather too
much as an excuse for not helping the indignant widows
and'orphanless children? Depend upon 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 cane 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 explain; 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.




THIE CHINA QUESTION.            49
THE CHINA QUESTION.
"You never see sich chaney no ware now, as this,'
said Mrs. Partington, as she took from an obscure corner
of the old cupboard a teapot of antique appearance, noseless 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? ". 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
5




50                   SYMPATHY.
that she had preserved so carefully, as an heir-loom;
theni, 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
lacket.
S Y M PATH Y.
"HERE'S fresh halibut!" cried the fish-vender, beneath Mrs. Partingt6n's window.'I know it is, you poor cretur! " said the estimable
lady, 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.








....: 4     I~-,
PAULT'S GHOST




PAUL'S GHOST.                 51
PAUL'S GHOST.
IT was just in the nigh edge of a summer evening, and
Mrs. Partington, who had worked hard at her knittin2
all day, began to feel a little dozy. She felt, as sh,
described it to her neighbor, Mrs. Battlegash, "a sort of
alloverness; "and those who have felt as she thus described
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 restricting 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 I" noon of night."
She never told us why, or if she were thinking of'
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
hggard like; and says I,' What's the matter?' 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,




52                  PAUL' S GIHOST.
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 soger
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 tliat
I guessed he didn't keer enough about her to want to
come back, and as his estate had all been settled sacreligiously, it would be very unreasonable indeed in him to
come back to disturb her.
I"' Where did you see him?' says I.' Out into the
yard,' said she.'When did you see him 3' says I.'Just
now,' said she.' Are you shore it was he' said I, determined 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
1,' le's go and see.'
" She riz right up, and we walked along through the
ong 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 soger 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.'
"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




PATTL'S GHOST.                53
that you should come back arter it, so apprehensively.'
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'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 somebody'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 and giving grace to
the tableau.
5.,_v




54          IKE SO TENDER-HEARTED.
IKE S0 TENDER-HEARTED.
"b THERE, don't take on so, dear," said Mrs. Parting.
ton, as she handed Ike a peach he had been crying for.
Ile took the peach, and a minute afterwards was heard
whistling " Jordan" on the ridgepole of the shed.  " He
is sich a tender-hearted critter," said she to MIrs. 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 lachrymosity.
"And he's the most considerable boy, too," resumed
she, "that ever you see; for when we had the inclination on the lungs, he would n't take a bit of the medicine
Dr. Bolus had subscribed,'cause he knowed it would do
me good, and said he'd full as lieves 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. PARTINGTON says there must be some sft of
kin between poets and pullets, for they both are always
chanting their lays.




LOOK UP.                   55
LOOK UP.
PERHAPS 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 me always fancied that there was a reason for the superstition that made a man's habit of looking 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 accustomed darkness, than one who comes directly in from the
light. HIe keeps his eyes on the ground, and no stray
fourpences or cents escape his eagle vision.  Every rag
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 alcng
the street, seems to be continually present in his mind.
His eyes grow heavy with looking down, and when 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 pocketbooks 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 difference 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 HIill Monument, when there
are so many pleasures of vision to be gained by climbing
to its summit 3 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 benefiting.
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 open for
your unwary feet. A too deep absorption in things
above the earth may make the star-gazer conscious of a
pain in the back 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.
Laok up!




A SOLEMN FACT.                 57
A SOLEMN FACT.
1\    I 21 1)OUR plants are most flai grantly  odious,"  said',fil~Ie Mrs. Partington, as she
stooped over a small oval.... i:  ~ Bred table in a neighbor's
house,  hich table was coI.ered with cracked pots filled
with luxuriant geraniums, and
a monthly rose, and a cactus,
aind other bright creations,
that shed their sweetness upon
the almost tropical atmosphere 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.
"IIHow 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 are profligated by
slips, - slips so gradual that propriety could hardly call
them such at first,- which end, heaven and earth and
perdition know how deep.
NEW REMEDY FOR A DROUGHT.
MRS. PARTINGTON 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 1 "
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, " 1
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 handkerchief, 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 remarkable 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 j
don't take on so, if you can't hire me! "




60          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 Dombey, 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.
MIRS. PARTINGTON PENNED.
A FRIEND, returned from a visit to New York, presented to Mrs. Partington a gold pen which had been
entrusted to him for her. The present was duly examined 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, speculatively.  "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
widowless body like me! What friends I have got




THE SODA FOUNTAIN.               61
I hope that Heaven will be rewarded for their kindness
to me! "
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 shoebuckles, 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.  "There it goes again, I declare, fizzin
away like a blessed old`comoco on the railroad. Don't
say anything about Nigary now, - that is n't nothin in
caparison to this, - and it a'n't 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 reidjusted her specs, and took a new survey of the mystery,
while Ike, unwatched, was weighing his knife and five
jackstones in the bright brass scale on the other
counter.
6




62               GIVING REASONS.
GIVING REASONS.
THE various reasons which some folks always have
ready for their accidents and misfortunes, or as palliatives 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, as the reason for
his absence, that his father kept him at home to help
grind the handsaw. A toper, accounting for a bad 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, repl; od 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 cold 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 whed I put it od, it was brib
full of east wid."
A  SMIALL  TRADE.
"COLD day, Mr. Smith," said old Roger, in the Dovk
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," chuckled the old man, "because he has n't
any hands."
Mr. Smith smiled.




64               ON LOCOMOTION.
ON LOCOMOTION.
" So they've got you on the 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.
I' 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
it caused a nonsense in my stomach to ride inside; and
what a queer figure I did make on it, to be sure!  But
that, dear, was five and twenty years ago, and it is so
queer they should remember it.  O, them stages! I've
heerd of people riding by easy stages, but I never saw
one. The easiest way that I ever rid was on a pillory
behind Paul, there.  Easy stages, 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! "- and she looked at the omnibus just passing her
door,- "all you've to do is to get into an ominous, all
cushioned nicely, wvith a whole picture-gallery round 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 difference; only the national stage carriedc 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 got you in the theatre, the National
Theatre," we persisted, and showed her the bill.
She looked at it a moment, and wiped her 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 cauight
him.
THE LARGEST LIBERTY.
"' Now go to meeting, dear," said Mrs. Partington, as
Isaac stood smoothing his hair preparatory to going out
on Sunday. IHe looked down at his new shoes, and a
thought of the green fields made him sigh. A fishingline 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 dispensed with."
6+




66          MRS. PARTINGTON IN COURT.
Such liberality is rare. Bigotry finds no place 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.
MIRS. PARTINGTON 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 see 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 longr pole was made to swear that he'd
keep an eye on'em, and see that they did n't run away
with it. Bimeby in they come agin, and then they said
somebody was guilty of asmetM'-n, 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 air! "
This experience is a beautiful exhibit of judicial
life. True enough, Mrs. Partington; how 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 tremblingly, 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 righAt of
kings could be better shown," said old Roger, emphasizing 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."
An audible "Whew!" whistled along the table, and
one distinct knock from each boarder, denoted equivocaJ
approbation. The dessert was dispensed with.




68          A LITTLE TRUTH WELL PUT.
A LITTLE TRUTH WELL PUT.
] i E01  |      ~ you ve come down to attend
~Lt~_,~ ~,the adversary meetings,"  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 neckeloth.
"Ah!" said he, humoring her conceit and smiling, for
he expected to stay some days, " the adversary we meet
we subdue with the weapons of the spirit."
" That is just what dear Deacon Sprig said when he
captivated the crazy Ingen with New England rum, and
then put him in bride'll. Says he,'I'll subdue him
with the sword of the spirit' — he was sich a queer man!
These meetings are excellent for converting heathens and
saving the lost, and I do hope, 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.              69
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 malkedl
" P. P.'" and the antique china were brought out -- articles 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 recitative, 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
tera.s




70              LIFE ON THE ROAD.
LIFE ON THE ROAD.
ONE summer, during the very hot weather, our Ellen,
whose life could number seventeen happy summer3, 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 had 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.
"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 peril.  Her
pulse was quick with the excitement, but 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 ran 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 oiut 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 discovering 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 herbbag.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                  73
DAGUERREOTYPES.'"WHAT artfulness!" said MIrs. 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 accumulated 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
jhe spoke.
" What artfulness herb is, and how nat'rally every lini..
ment is brought out! HIow 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, and looked alternately at the daguerreotype and the profile, as if she hoped the profile would
speak to her; but it still looked rigidly forward, thrusting out its huge outline of nose as if proud of it, and
then with a sigh she reclasped the case and 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 knitting -needles.
THAT AND THAT.
"You do make that child look like a fool, wife, with
all that toggcry 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!"  Mir. Fog
coughed, and they passed along.




ON POLITICS.                75
ON  POLITICS.
"As regards these electrical matters," said Mrs.
Partington, 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 I don't see 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 arterwards too, as they
sometimes do them, for they might as well be dead, a
good many of'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 newspapers are brim full of good resolutions, but ne'eraone of'em did I ever 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 " -
"I 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.
I 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 suppose 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. Partington 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.
"C 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! 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?
A  hissing sound followed - crack! snap! 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, Ike!     7
7*




78           APPOINTING INSPECTORS.
APPOINTING INSPECTORS.
"INSPECTORS of customs!" -said Mlrs. 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 customs that won't bear
looking into.  Well, let every tub stand on its own bottom, I say- I won't cast no speciousness on nobody.
But I don't see 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 neighbor, 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.            79
She stirred her souchong as she ruminated, untasting,
and Ike helped himself, unheeded, to the last preserved
pear there was in the dish.
IMRS. PARTINGTON AT TEA.
"C 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
wonder if this is adulterated' " and she bowed her head
over the steaming and fragrant decoction in the cup before her, whose genial odors mingled with the silvery
vapor, and encircled her venerable poll like a halo.
" It smells virtuous," continued she, smiling with satisfaction, " and I know this Shoo-shon tQa must be good,
because I bought it of Mr. Shoo-shon himself, at Redding's. Adulterated!" she meandered on, pensively
as a brook in June, "and  it's agin the commandment, 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 dispelled
all disquietude about the tea, and she sipped her beverage,
all oblivious of del]-tea-rious infusions.




80           SIR), YCb OWE ME A,'ENT.
SIR, YOU OWE ME A CENT.?~3~TiTHER things may be great,"
i.., Jsaid 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 ink> lflc stance.  Yesterday  a boy' asked me pitifully for a fourKiiiiili    pence; I gave him  what I
Il  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 owe mie 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 was n'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 NAME.
"'DRIVE him out!" screamed Mrs. Partington, as
like whistled in an immense house-dog, who perambulated the kitchen, dotting the newly-washed floor with
flowers of mud, and audaciously smelling Mrs. Partington's toes, as the old lady stood up in a chair to avoid
him.
" Drive him out. What is his name, Isaac'1"
" Guess," replied Ike.
"I can't, I know. Perhaps it's 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."
"' O, you provoking creatur! 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 lady was melted by his emotion, and, as soon
as the dog was sent out, some nice quince jelly settled
the difficulty.
"tHe is sich a queer child!" murmured she; "so
bright! I suppose'twas because he was weaned on
pickles."
Ike ate his preserves in silence, but his eye was on the




82               BURNING WATER.
aco n 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 WATER.
"WELL, this is a discovery! " exclaimed Mrs. Partington 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 lamp, 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've 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
X STRIKING MIANIFESTATION.
"I CAN'T 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, le would revulge 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 superstitional as to believe sich a rapsody, or think a sperrit can
go knocking about like a boy in vexation. I can't
believe it, and I don't know's I could if that teapot
there wasto jump off the tableright aforemy 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! The old lady
could not speak, but held up her hands in wild amazement, 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 AND THE ELEPHANT.
IKE AND THE 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'pose you
think you've done thunderin' great things, don't you 7
For my part, I don't call it no better'n stealing. 0,
you may stand there and swing that ridic'lous-looking
trunk o' your'n just as much as you're a mind to; you
can't skeer a fellow, I tell you! This is a free country,
old club-feet; and you an't agoing to take 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's all! You
just try it, you ongainly reptile, you! 0, 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'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'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 bigger'n I am, I can tell you.
We don't stand no such nonsense as that, round here.
If't warn't for that p'leceman looking here, I'd pitch
into you like a thousand o' bricks. I 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 step on my toes - why can't
you just try it now, will you? I guess I'd make you
hear thunder with them leather-apron ears o' your'n,
you big overgrown vagabond, you!'T a'n't no use o'
talking to you, but I shall be here, and, if you don't mind
your eye, I'11 lick you like blazes afore I go out."
IHere Isaac undoubled his hands, and, shaking his head
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 N'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




86             WHOLESOME ADVICE,
WHOLESOME ADVICE.
"ISAAC," said Mrs. Partington, as that interes
juvenile was playing a game of "knuckle up" aga
the kitchen wall, to the imminent danger of the old
clock which ticked near by, " 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 ir,
and patted his head kindly as he went again to play.
Ike was fortified, for the next five minutes, againmt
temptation to do evil; but
"Chase span, in the ring,
Knuckle up, or anything,"
are potent when arrayed against out-of-eight 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.
IN the vicinity of a town not many miles from Boston
was a dark glen, by the roadside, reputed to hze haunted.
A traveller had been found here, many years before,
frozen to death, and his troubled spirit, with a disposition to trouble everybody else, was said nigh'ly to visit
the scene of his mortal termination, to have a. "melancholy satisfaction " all alone by himself, or with >ut such
auditors as he could press in to participate in th%  "services of the evening." An old fellow, who resiled 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, avid
though " na fou," 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' usquebae 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 milewalk, 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 dark 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.
He 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 disappointment, "I guess he must be sick; fog is n'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 last bellow of expiring nature,
answered this assault.  He hurled another huge stone,
and, gathering courage from the excitement, he blazed
away in a manner that would astonish either human or
superhuman antagonists, but without any apparent effect
upon the, adversary, who stood his ground manfully,
or, peT haps we should say, ghostfully.  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 senseless upon the ground, a vanquished man. He was found




A DANGEROUS POSITION.             89
the next morning pensively sitting by the road-side,
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
" 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. Partington 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 had 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 ON SYMPATHY.
A LESSON ON SYMPATHY.
" WHAT a to-do they are making about this Cosset! "
said Mrs. Partington, smilingly.  The news had reached
her ear of the triumphs Ji Kossuth, and the name had
assumed a form, and that form recalled a train of pcculiar 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 has n't got sweethearts to invent
their young affectations on; but what's the use of making
sich a fuss about it  "
" But this is Kos-suth, aunt, the great Hungarian,"
said Ike, tremendously, who was well posted up in passing matters; "who has come over here to ask our sympathy, and enlist us in behalf of his country."
c'Well," said she, as the new light dawned upon
her, I" they may have our sympathy in welcome,'cause
it don't cost anything; but we must n't'list and give'em money, - that would be agin our constitutions! "
And the prudent dame drummed thoughtfully on her
snuff-box cover, with her eyes fixed upon the vane of
the Old South, while Ike amused himself by scratching
"IQosSuTII," with a fork, on the end of the new
japanned waiter.




HOW IKE DROPPED THE CAT.             91
HOW IKE DROPPED THE CAT.
E/; ow, Isaac," said Mrs. Part-! ~    i.,  m  ington, as she came into the
__;_   ____   [m-_ 1room with a basket snugly
covered  over,  "take  our
Tabby, and drop her someI'   s  where, and see that she don't
come back again, for I am
Isick and tired of driving her
o'out of the butter.  She is tho!(thievinest creatur! But don't
hurt her Isaac; only take care
that she don't come back."
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 cat, great as that evil was, than that the poor quadruped 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 appearance, - 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




92        RHOW!KE DROPPED THE CAT.
looking upon him  kindly, "and won't she  come
back?"
" She dropt just as easy!"'' said Ike, letting his basket
fall on the floor, and shying his cap upon the table, somewhat endangering a glass lamp with a wooden bottom
that stood thereon; "she dropt just as easy! and she
won't come back - you may bet high on that."
"'But you didn'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 eat his supper, which the
young gentleman did with considerable unction.
" Isaac! Isaac!" screamed 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, Ishould think it was a cat; and it looks to
me like our Tabby.. O, Isaac! if you have done this!"
and a tone akin to horror trembled in her voice.
" I'11 go and see if it's her," said Ike, as if not hearing the last part of her remark; and he dashed out of




HOW IKE DROPPED THE CAT.            03
the door, but soon came back, with wonder depicted on
every feature of his expressive countenance. " O, it's
her! sure enough, it's her!" cried he, "but I did drop
her! "
"Well, how could she come there then " and the
good old lady looked puzzled.
" I'11 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 was 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 supposed 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 incredulously at the idea of the suicide, and looked at the boy.
He very evidently understood how the cat was drrpqped,




94               STOPPING A'BUS.
STOPPING  A'BUS.
MIRS. PARTINGTON 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.
" Now, Isaac," says she, feeling in her 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 be 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, as
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 surplus on, and goes through with the cerement of making
em man and wife. It ought to be husband and wife;
for it a'n't every husband that turns out a man. I
declare I shall never forget how I felt when I had the
nuptual ring put on to my finger, when Paul said,'With my goods I thee endow.' IIe used to keep a drygoods store then, and I thought he was going to give
me all there was in it. I was young and simple, and
didn'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 coming up to
consume their vows."
She bustled about and got tea ready, but abstractedly 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 ini
the home of present widowhood.




MRS. PARTINGTON IN THE MARKET.
A young lady, who expected to be married on Thanksgiving 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.
MIRS. PARTINGTON IN THE MARKET.
" I WONDER what they mean by a better feeling in the
market?" 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 I 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 tie cotton handkerchief with
the Constitution and Guerriere upon it, and she discontinued.








2 111  -_<...:',~'
\lt~~~~~~~~~~~~~(~I
RT     AN  P iL,,Oh
"~~~~~~....;~         ~::    ~      ~~:I:~:   i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~?
PARTINIGTONI AN  PHILO ~OPI'ItY




PARTING TON rnILOSOPPHY.            97
PAIRTINGTON  IPIIIL OSOPHY.
iEFORE the railroad company bought and tore down
the Partington mansion, and uprooted and overturned the
old faimily slrines without regard to their sacredlness,the Vandals - turning the good old heart that w lorslipped there out upon the world to seelk new ties amid new
scenes, it was Mrs. Partington's delight to gatlher firiendls
about her at Thanksgiving time, and the time-honored
season passed very happily.  Amid the festivities lhei
benignity would beam with such a radiance, that the red
seed peppers upon the wall looked ruddier in its geni-l
glow, and the bright tin pans upon the shelf seemedol
brimful of sunshine, and smiled out upon all who looked
at them.
There were fine times at the Partington mansi;on at
Thanksciving, you may depend. She did n't keep Christmas,- she was puritanical in her religious notions, and
ltended the Old North meeting(-house for a thlid (L- a
century, and took pride in sayingr that she had never )been
to churchJ; a nice distinction which we leave tihe old
folks to make,- Christmas was a churlch holiday, ulsanctioned by a governor's proclamation, and she would
none of it; she scented in it t~b, garment of the disreputable 3Babylonish female, rr   oned in the Apocalypse,
and avoidced it.  But it is Thanksgiving that we m.r1e
speaking  about now ~ N-Well, well, what has all this to
do with patience?     ta-Iave patience, darlin,; and we'11
tell you an instance of patient resignation under disap9




98           PARTINGTON PHILOSOPHY.
pointment, not surpassed since Newton's dog Diamond
committed an incendiary act, and his master gravely informed the quadruped that he was not probably aware of
the extent of the damage he had committed; which was
doubtless the fact.
It was the custom  with MIrs. 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, like 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 we can be thankful on pork
and cabbage! "
" Say, ye severest, what would ye have done'
under such circumstances? You would, perhaps, have
raved, and stamped, and swore, and made yourself generally ridiculous, besides perilling your soul in the excess
of your anger. But Mrs. P. did n't, and there is where
you and she differ.  Shmqod calmly and tranquilly —
a living lesson of philosojpcal patience under extreme
difficulty.  We cite this example that the world may
profit by it.




FILIAL DUTY VS. WASHING-POWDER.       99
FILIAL  DUTY vs. WAS 1ING-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'am, sadly ruffle the bosoms of their
parents."
He crossed his legs as he spoke, and tied his handkerchief 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 handkerchiefs 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 sc
bad, either, as it used to be before the soap-powder was
found out."
Mr. Spaid quietly protested that he could not see the
relevancy of the remark.
" Why," continued she, inhaling the rappee, and handing 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 galligaskins that had just gone tlhrough




100            A SERIOUS QUESTION.
a course of purification -" as a great blessing to mothers."
The minister smiled, and thought what a curious
proposition it would be, in the " Society for the Mitigation of Everything," to recommend washing-powder as
an auxiliary to other operative blessings, and thanked
Mrs. Partington 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 fishballs 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 her, 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-gest
then." Drawing his chin within his stock, the old fellow laughed lustily, and in his paroxysm threw his arms
around the landlady's neck for support; but she threw
them off very indignantly, for the boarders were all looking at her. He then sat down to breakfast with a good
appetite.




RATHER A RASCAL.              101
RATHER A RASCAL.
"MRS. PARTINGTON, your neighbor, Mr. Gruff, is
rather irascible, I think," said the new 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. Partington looked at the minister through her spectacles
inquiringly before she answered.
" Rather a rascal! " said she, slightly misapprehending his question, and patting her box affectionately; " yes,
indeed, I think he is, a great rascal! IIe 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 " 
"I mean,"' interrupted the minister, blandly, laying
his white hand gently on his arm, " I mean that he is
quick-tempered."
"' 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*




102   THE SENSITIVE MAN SEES A BLOOMER.
THE SENSITIVE MR{AN SEES A
B L 00MER.
THE Sensitive Man came in, one day, just after dinner,
threw himself into a chair, and fainted. After a mug
or two of Cochituate water had been dashed in his interesting 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 burst upon 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 his tunneled
hand, until it became indistinct and lost in the distance.
That object was a BLOOMER! He 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 bowed to this, as did
the sheaves of the Israelitish brethren to the sheaf of
Joseph of old. He had at last seen a Bloomer. The
climax of his earthly desire was attained. The driver of




THE SENSITIVE MAN SEES A BLOOMER.   103
the'bus, callous to the emotion of his 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 he bounded like cork. He could
have leaped over the State-House. Little boys and
sedate passengers stepped back dismayed, and a gentleman 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 carry with him the
consciousness that he had seen a Bloomer.  IHe looked
to see if her passing figure had not left its impression, in
aerial portraiture, upon the impalpable atmosphere. 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 a worm in the mud,
Feeds on his damaged cheek."




104            POWER 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 debated in her own mind, - though the debate never was
reported, - whether she should go herself or give a
vower 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, - "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 seemed to sing out with reproach for the outrage,
and Ike, who was looking slyly into the back window,
wondered if Mrs. Ames was n'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 could n't get up. It showed
that the boy had a reflective turn of mind.




THE NEW 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 " costume " came to her ear indistinctly, 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, interrupting her; "they are 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 turns to a caterpillar in the morning, I don't know which" -
"      But," again interrupted her informant, "I mean
they are a going to have a new dress."
" O, they are, are they? " 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! But did you hear of the new
apperil for wimmin that somebody is talking about? "




106         TIIE NEW DRESS FOR LADIES.
" 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,
shouldn't I? And old Mrs. Jones, who weighs three
hundred pounds, wouldn't look well in'em neither.
But I say let'em 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, as 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 knavish one. We have
realized, in some degree, what the feeling must be, as
we have, at times, elbowed our way among the gentlemen who throng about State  or Wall street.  The
atmosphere was so 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 working and struggling to coin itself into; the dollar gleamed
in every eager glance of the eye, and was heard in every
word; 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, unless 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 hifalutin humbug about him.  What he
says don't seem to'mount to nothing. As for Falstaff,
he's a miser'ble and disreputable old fellow, and Hamlick's
as mad as a bed-bug. Why did n't he knock his old
father-in-law over, and done with it, and not make sich a
hillibolu 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 2
Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge levithians
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sand!'
That's all gammon.  Poets' sinews, indeed!  Dare say'twas n't nothin' but catgut; and as for its softening
steel and stones, and taming 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 said this, aind
the subject was suspended.




THE CAT AND KITTENS.            10'3
THE CAT AND KITTENS.
BEFORE Ike dropped the cat, it was a matter of much
annoyance to Mrs. Partington, 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? 
"I'll drownd'em," said she, "every one of'em! 0,
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 pat, 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'11 take
the chill off the water; it would be cruel 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 belongeth not to man or woman, and we would
throw this 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 bears 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 business habits of the family may be attributed to their
Jewish extraction.




MORAL TRAINING.                111
30ORAL  TRAININ(G.
_'iXORAL training," said Mrs.
-Partington, " is the best,
arter all."  She had heard
i. ~,n!i.   ~ some one in the omnibus
tiit into the charge of memsiory until she got home,
and memory revolved it,
welleand   pondered it, and reob dersviewed it, and fancy conquilt.  __ T —h~ey-= w  strued it to mean something about the military training that was to come off the
next day.
"I hope it will be a moral training, I'm  shore,"
said she; "for I see the Gov'nor is to be there in
his new suit, 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 millinfery sperrit
sometimes, Isaac."
Ike had remained very quiet while she was speaking
"What upon airth arc 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, nominally 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've got your Uncle Paul's tompion 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 3
A LITTLE TRUTH.
THERE'S something for us all to do," is the heading
of a poem in the papers - a subject which seems 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 a
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




HAIR-DRESSING.               113
HAIR - DRES SING..' 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,' 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 Ilottenpot, or a wild Arad.'I mean
your hair-dressing,' said I.
"' 0, ah, yes!' said he;' set down here in the big
chair, mem,- scratch, perhaps, mem!'
"'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
anyhair tonic, though everybody knew that she had worn
a wig for twenty years.
MRS. PARTINGTON 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-RIDING.
O AIN IBUS-RIDING.'T Is a rainy morning, and, health considered, we
think we'11 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 turning, 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,
ascertains that there is room for one more. There
always is. We take heart at the announcement, and
mount the steps, while the door 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? 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



OMNIBUS-RIDING.                115
son " resting upon the lady's carpet-bag, we are made
sensible of a sharp elbow, and the ejaculation " O,
Lord! " uttered in a tone between a prayer and a reproach. Of course we've a right there, for, is n't the
coach bound to hold twelve, and won't we give " one pull
for the right " before we'11 give it up? That's a beautiful face opposite, —a glimpse convinces us of this, -
but we cannot stare at her; good manners forbid I:
There is a glass beneath the driver's seat, and here the
pretty face in duplicate appears, and we gaze upon it
unnoted.
We are now reminded of the presence of the collector
of the tickets, who touches our shoulder, and looks
significantly without saying anything. He was never
known to say anything but twice in his life, it is said,
once to inform a man in the'bus that it was cold, and
again, in a confidential whisper to hint that it was
unpleasant. We struggle to reach the pocket which
contains our ticket; but the mass that hems us in won't
move, and, in a spasmodic effort to entrap the card,
three buttons are sacrificed, and a bonnet disturbed in its
position. We laugh at some pleasant allusion of our
own about clumsiness; but the laugh appears only upon one
side, and we relapse into silence, and look in the glass
beneath the driver's seat.  Thank Heaven! the big man
here pulls the string, and sturdily tramples over quiescent toes in his egress. Then the lady with the carpetbag pulls vehemently, in a vain effort to jerk the driver
through, and she gets out. Then another, and another,
until all are gone but us, - the pretty girl last, - and
we are captain of the ship, all the difficulties of our




116         AURIFEROUS MEDITATIONS.
outset merged in the triumphant consciousness that we
have r'oom. What do we care now about how many the'bus will hold? We snap our fingers at the insulting
rule that would curtail humanity, and gaze upon the
other inscription, that enjoins the pull for the right;
then pull the string magnificently, the coach stops, and
we descend among the pedestrians, not a whit inflated by
our momentary exaltation.
AURIFEROUS MlEDITATIONS.
"GOLDEN airs of Californy," said Mrs. Partington,
as she read in the Post an advertisement of some new
music; "such airs, I should think, would be very replenishing, 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 didn't
think of this in the first place. Many a valuable suggestion 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.




IKE AND THE ORANGES.            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 on 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
" could n't conceive," it was but part of the sentence that
she wished to speak; the earnestness of her search had
suspended the remainder of it.
"I can't conceive where those oranges are," said she,
"that the young ladies sent me - Heaven bless'em! —
they were so good to lucubrate the throat with when it's
dry and hot with the information that comes 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 upon the closet
door, and using 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 how he might have
come by the oranges.




118                PATRIOTISM.
P ATRIOTI S 1M.
A  YANKEE gentleman, convoying a British triend
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
said,
" That is 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 fourteen 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
layer by layer; "' well, I should think he would havL
been, to fall so far."
The native tore his hair, but it gave him a good opportunity to enlarge upon the glorious events connected
with the hill, and the benefits therefrom flowing to our
somewhat extensive country, and he soon talked himself
into good-humor.
KEEP your eyes wide open for the truth; let it come
down into your mind like the sunlight, to illumine all of
its dark corners. " Buy the truth, and sell it not."




DULL BUSINESS.               119
DULL BUSINESS.
A LONG time ago, in an old town we wot of, there lived
a man of humble means, - there are some poor people
there now, - and, in pity for his need, he was made sexton 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 unreasonableness 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 are 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; probably, that Providence was rather hard on him in not killing off half the parish that he might have the profit of
burying them.




120         ANTIQUITY IN A SHOWER.
ANTIQUITY IN A SHOWER.
RS. PARTINGTON attended the
N,,CC~m    ~]r    dedication  of Mount Hope
A\\\  X  i  Cemetery, in Dorchester, and
got wet with the rain.  No
>~~'~~~ sheltering umbrella was there
to hold its broad surface above
ther venerable head; and the
OBFS~l,`"jB7 / rain, all regardless of her
[august presence, poured down
<relentlessly.  But we will let
I~wy.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
was agoing to destroy the world. The lightning blazed
horridly, and everybody was filled with constipation.
Not a shelter to be had! 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.
Cold chills run over me as if I had an ager, and, 0
dear! look at that bonnet."
Certainly the faded remnant had wilted, the pasteboard
that formed the crown had relaxed and shook flabbily
as we held it, and irreparable decay seemed written
upon it.




TIlE NATIONAL EPIC.            121
" It never will be fit to be seen again! " 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 round
our capacious pocket for a dollar to leave with her, but,
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."
TItE  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 closet 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 proposition of Mr. Latham, and the loss of $500 to the musical
genius of the country. "CI can't see why somebody
could n'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 versatanity of talent and great power of
versuffocation 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 he bowed modestly, as he placed his hand in the vicinity of his heart,
and felt in his vest pocket for a tooth-pick.
11




122          TIlE MAINE LIQUOR BILL.
MIERS. PARTINGTON AND THIE IMAINE
LIQUOR  BILL.
MRS. PARTINGTON was in the gallery of the House of
Representatives when the Maine liquor law was under
discussion. The member from Cranberry Centre was
very attentive to the old dame, and replied to her questions concerning the Maine liquor law, and spoke of the
various provisions of the bill.  "Provisionsq " said the
kind old dame, tapping her box gently, " I never heerd
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,
I" 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,'yes, yes, I're heerd of folks bein' bread to the law




TAKE THINGS EASY.             123
afore, though a good many of'em is more like vegetables. But"        Here the speaker's mallet attracted
her attention, and she listened to the reading of part of
the liquor bill, watching carefully for the items.  "Is
that the liquor bill 3" asked she, in an incredulous tone,
of her friend, the member; " is that it 3"  IIe assured
her that it was.  " Well," continued she, as she rose to
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
and my dear Paul was married, he was in such a tripidation that he came nigh marrying one of the bridesmaids instead of me, by mistake. IIe was such a queer
man! " she continued. " Why, he joined the fire apartment, 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 MIUSIC.
EVERYBODY will remember the organ-grinder's little
child, who was carried around, seated upon the instrument his father was tuning, his young heart well satisfied 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 pick up a
cent and not lose a note.
c" Sir," said Philanthropos, " 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."
" 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."
Philanthropos immediately left him.




MRS. PARTINGTON IN TROUBLE.          125
MRS. PARTINGTON IN TROUBLE.
" TRYING the French sea-steamer! " said Mrs. Partington, as she read in the foreign news an account of trialtrips made by the French steamships.  She has always
had a deep interest in the French, since Mr. Lay Martin, 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 don't see no reason why they should n't,
seeing so many murders come from their arrangements.
And I wish they'd try'em all before they do the mischief, and condemnation'11 be a warning to'em, just as
it would if we could try all of the murderers, and hanc-'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.  Virtue is of little account unless it be tried, nor is patience.
Mrs. Partington calmly'" digested" her cap on her head
and went in.
11*




126         INFLUENZA. -AN ANSWER.
INFLUENZA.
" I DECLARE, I b'lieve I'm going to have the influwednesday," 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 sister's
child, she that married with a Smith, had the distemperature 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.
"WHAIIT do they call them  dancers the corpse de
ballet for? " asked Mr. Verigreen of old Roger, at the
theatre. The old fellow wa's 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 dancers can jump half so high as they
can."




MUTTON  (CUSTARD.              127
MUTTON CUSTARD.
C" As regards this mutton custard," said Mrs. Partington, 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 looking 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 summer 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'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. BIut mutton custard" -
" It is Martin Koszta," said Ike, who had read the
name to her in the Post of that individual when he arrived in Boston; "K Ioszta, 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 ho




198          ON THE " RELIGIOUS TEST."
thrust the stick he had been whittling into the kettle,
and then made a drawing of the equatorial line across'oth cheeks in warm molasses.
MIRS. PARTINGTON ON THE "RELIGIOUS TEST."' TIE 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 answered, " 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 politicioner, 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,
"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,
" is quite another thing, and none of'cm a'n't no better'n
they ought to be."
The inquirer left, decidedly impressed with the originality and truth of her remark.




IDEA OF HUMOR. - CURIOSITY.        129
NIRS. PARTINGTON'S IDEA OF HI)iIOR.
"WIIAT 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 buckthorne is good
for all sorts of diseases of that kind. I don't know about
the humor of Hawthorne, but I guess the buckthorne
will be beneficious. We bat 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. DIGG, 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 CHEESE.
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. PARTINGTON 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 one! "
1"'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, and whispered, " It
may be 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
Fas towards the minister.




INDIGNATION  MEETING.             31
INDIGNATION MlEETING.
-'.
HE enforcement of the law re}! j~quiring our canine friends and.   fellow-citizens to wear collars
about their necks - a servile
mark, which no dog of spirit could for a moment onlsenc
to wear - caused, as might be supposed, much growling
among them; and many teeth were shown, and much
dogged determination was evinced to resist the law.
Acting upon this feeling, the more energetic of the Caninites went round among their brethren counselling them
to withstand the law, and telling them, besides, that the
rigfhts 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 South 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 indulgence of favoring
masters; none of the silk eared and soft-footed aristocracy; but there were the Huge Paws from Roxbury
Neck, the Shagbarks from the North End, and the Tough
and lRoughers 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 CAESAR,
the biggest dog present, for president; and PLATO, a lean
dog in specs, who had been very active in getting 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 name of Coesar 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
not the contrary. We regret very much that we have
not this great speech to print. In recommending union
in their action, he related an original anecdote about 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
C ATO, an old setter, who called upon hishearers to keep
cool and not be 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 remember 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 commenced to bay violently against the law and those who
were enforcing it. Ile was astonished, he was paralyzed,
he was dumfounded to hear dogs counsel coolness in this
crisis! The policemen are upon us! We have already
felt our tails within their degrading fingers!- I hold
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 naturally a pointer! I would show my teeth at him wherever
I met him!  Iis excitement overpowered him, and he
sat down.
PONTO, a large, gnarly, hard-looking dog, here arose,
and it was doubtful fom a time if he could be heard, for
the noise and confusion which prevailed among the oppo12




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 was 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 evil 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 "
He was here pulled down by his tail, when, amid the
shaggy hair which thickly covered his neck, a collar was
discovered, fitting closely to the skin! Amid the confusion 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 twentyfour-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 appearance excited respect. He gained his feet with much
difficulty, and it was perceived that he had a wooden leg,
and bore about his person sundry other marks of dilapidation.




INDIGNATION MEETING.            1 3t
"My brethren," said he, when the cheering vwhich
had greeted him had subsided, " you have before 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 gnawing, and threw myself into the front rank of the defenders 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 clubs 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 darkness 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 broad 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 our feelings, persist in
ornamenting our extremities with cast-off culinary utensils."
This speech produced a great sensation, awakening the
president, who had fallen asleep during the pathetic part
of 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 had




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 admirers; 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 opportunity of testing your powers of navigation, and will not
in 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 atxa right distance from the door, and then
make a sudden and energetic plunge at it, as if attempting 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 she reached the door
It saves time to start a trifle before pulling 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.          137
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?' said Paul;'well,
just spit it outside, and we shan't have any more to
dig.' Ah, Paul was such a queer man! ile was the
beatermost creatur."
What a joyous gleam shot from her specs as this reminiscence 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 CONCLUSION. -EPIGRAM
A LEGITIMATE CONCLUSION.
OLD Mr. Brown and his son George were engaged in
the haymow, when the conversation turned upon California, 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
barn floor, into an apple binn, to the imminent risk of
the venerable gentleman's neck, 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, firmly, 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 Piercepiration "




QUESTION ANSWERED. - TEST REFUSED. 1]X9
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! " said
the old lady, not comprehending him; " is it so far off'
I wish it was nearer for your sake! But he'11 get
tihere 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 " Evangeline " 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 WIHOLESO0ME LESSON.
"A DOGI is a very singular animal," said the owner
of Fido to old Roger, after they had marked the affectionate 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 hait 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 CASE. - PERHAPS TRUE.    141
A BOOTLESS CASE.
"I WISH I could find something to help my corns,"
said Mr. Verd, despondingly; " they ache so!"
"III1 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'll 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 that;
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.
OR heaven's sake, old wo-'.~f ~' man, get off my hat! " said
A    Roger at the concert, as he
StryttM~14 ~saw a two hundred and fifty
pounder settle on his new
ventilated castor. Old woman! It was an ungallant
expression, but the circum~- ~    ~ ~ ~stance would seem to justify
111~~1      it. A new hat was a new
era in his existence, and this
was one of the latest. Recovering 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. I never saw a
hat worn in that way before, and I don't want to furnish
one to experiment upon, either."
The hat was put on, but how like an apothecary's'prentice long indented it looked, contrasted with its previous fair proportions! The opera is very destructive to
hats, especially where they throw them at the singers.




CHRISTMAS REFLECTION.            143
CHRISTAI1S REFLECTION.
"I wish you a merry Christmas
And a happy New Year,
With your 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 breakfast 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 expression, as he took out of his pocket a jacknife, and a humtop painted with gaudy colors. Ike held them up joyously,.nd it was a sight to see the two standing there, she.miling serenely upon the boy's happiness, and he gratemla in the possession of his treasures.
" Ah! " said she, with a sigh, " there's many a home
io —ay, 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 MOSQUITOS.
REFLECTION ABOUT MOSQUITOS.
" THERE! now I hope you've got it, you everlastin
torment! " 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;
for such conduct was very unusual, and the oil from the
lamp had marred her new calico.
"It's only a pesky musketeer, dear," said the old
lady, relighting the lamp; " it'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, e'eDn,
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 wouldn'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, "will
you allow me 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 passable than I first regarded it."
The stranger immediately tendered Old Roger his hat,
which he magnanimously declined receiving.
13




146           A PORCINE EXPOSURE.
A PORCINE EXPOSURE.
"COULD N'T yOU get young pork, ma'am, to bake
with your beans 3" said old Roger, somewhat cynically,
as he sat at table one Sunday.
" They told me it was young t " said the landlady.
"Well, it may be so, but gray hair is not a juvenile
feature, by any means, in our latitude, ma'am," continued 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 dismay and crumbs amid the nicely-plaited folds of old
Roger's shirt-frills.
SPUNK.- -"  wouldn't be so bothered about my
seals," said a jour printer to a brother' typo, who had
to wait pretty often for dinner that did n't pay for waiting; " if I boarded out I'd have my dinner -    just as
soon as I could get it."




A NAVE IN THE CHURCH.            147
A NAVE IN T'HE CHURCH.
" A NAVE in our church! " screamed Mrs. Partington,
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? 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'em 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 deterotating and backbiting, and lying about 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 procession.  She said she "did n't see the least need of scrowging so, for she dared say the procession was full long
enough to go round.'




148           A QUEER ASSOCIATION.
A QUEER ASSOCIATION.
IT was with a strong emotion of wonder that Mrs,
Partington read in the papers that a new wing was to be
added to the Cambridge Observatory.
"What upon airth can that be for, I wonder? I dare
say they are putting the new wing on to take more
flights arter comics and such things, or to look at the
new ring of the planet Satan, - another link added to
his chain, perhaps; and, gracious knows, he seems to gc
further than he ever did before."
She stopped to listen, as the sounds of revelry and
drunkenness arose upon the night air, and she glanced
from her chamber over the way, where a red illuminated
lantern denoted " Clam  Chowder."  Why should she
took there just at that moment of her allusion to Satan?
What connection could there be in her mind between
Satan and clam chowder?  Nobody was near but Ike,
and Isaac slumbered.




THE PUNDIT PUNNED.            149
THE PUNDIT PUNNED.
DR. DIGG 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, "1I
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."
The Doctor, however, still contended for his point, and
could not see how it could be possible, ad thought old
Roger's friend must be mistaken.
13*




150'UNCH IN THE HEAD.
PUNCH IN THE HEAD.
OLD Sherry came home one night when it was so near
morning that the line dividing the night from the morning was 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
houses 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 lit' le above his reach, but he found a barrel somewhere,




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PUNCH IN THE HEAD.              151
and by 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 himself 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 equipoise 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.
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 brigands and robbers, and
the noise occurred just where a heroine was forcibly carried from her paternal home by ruffians in masks! Upon
the spur of the moment she darted into. her nephew's
chamber, contiguous to hers, and told him, in a big whisper, 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 the
supposed burglar in the window, the young Sherry ga,




152            PUNCH IN TIIE HEAD.
his parent's head a couple of whacks with the stick, when
a cry from that suffering specimen of suspended animation 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 funl
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.       158
M[ATTER 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! They are so kind, too, always advising
me to give up keeping it in the house; but, dear me,
what would 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
" earth earthy " in her remark that he was silent.
" I should like to know what he meant about embowelling 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.




151       COMMISERATION FOR CLERKS.
CO1IMMISERATION FOR CLERKS.
_HOPRPEEPERS is not enough
thought of," said Mrs.
__'     t  X~ BPartington, after having
been  out making some
purchases.  "How  they
do toil and how they suffer! One dear pretty
young man, with a nice black coat
on and a gold chain and a starched.i/     collar witha 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 gentleman 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
string.




THE BOUQUET.               155
THtE BOUQUET.
" LOOK.ere! " exclaimed Mrs. Partington, in a tone
of triumph, as she returned from answering the doorbell, 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 ornamental 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 cheek-bone, before passing away through
the channels time had worn in her face.




156     MRS. PARTINGION ON VENTILATION.
MRS. PARTINGTON ON VENTILATION,'WE have got a new venerator on our meetinghouse," 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! "
"' What sort of a ventilator is it l " asked we, anxious
to get an inkling of the old lady's philosophy.
"It is one of the Emissary's," replied she, sagely,
" and 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."
I" But how will it do in summer'?" we again asked.
The dame, for a moment, was puzzled. She had not
thought of this contingency.': 0!" cried she, after a few moments' reflection, aided
by the merest trifle of maccaboy, at the same time proffering 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 concert rooms, will be reminded of Mrs. Partington's " venerator" for keeping a room warm.
OUR RELATIONS WITH MIEXICO.
"OUR relations with Mexico! " 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 guidance.  " Our relations with Mexico! " said she; " some
of the poor creaturs, maybe, left there in the late hospitalities, too poor to get back. If I was President Pierce,
now, I'd send right away and bring'em all home by
express. The Mexicans had better. not trouble any of
our relations, I can tell'em! "
Of course she could tell'em. There was no doubt of
it. Mrs. Sled believed she 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-;ng itself in blue y'lrn stockings and souchong tea.
14




158            THE FTRhT OF APRIL
THE FIRST OF APRIL.
"I NEVER see the like!" said Mrs. Partington, as
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 - prompted 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 oblation, 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 meaning in it and a world of fun in it, sat Ike   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, and, as the chance of finding it diminished,
her anger cooled like hot iron in the air, and the rogue
escaped.
AN INQUIRY ANSWERED.
"DOES Isaac manifest any taste for poetry, Mrs.
Partington?" asked the schoolmaster's wife, while conversing on the merits of the youthful Partington.  The
old lady was basting a chicken that her friends had sent
her from the country.:' 0, yes! " said the old lady, smiling; " he is very
partially fond of poultry, and it always seems as if he
can't get enough of it." The old spit turned by the
fire-place in response to her answer while the basting
was going on.'I mean," said the lady, " does 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, an?. MrPartington basted it again.




160                BAILED OUT.
BAILED OUT.
" So, our neighbor, Mr. Guzzle, has been arranged at
the bar for drunkardice," said Mrs. Partington; and she
sighed as she thought of his wife and children at home,
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!" 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 sat swinging the oven door to and fro
as if to fan the fire that crackled and blazed within.
"Bailed out, was he?" said she; I"well, I should
think it would have been cheaper 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
down."
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 GOT 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 admiringly. She met his glance with a smile, and with an
eager voice saluted him with,
" Have you got a baby? "
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," 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.
A HOMIE TRUTH.; WHAT a to-do they make about treating the slaves
bad at the south! " said Mrs. Partington; and everybody
strained their ears to catch an opinion that perhaps was
fraught with the destiny of millions. There was a slight
tremor in 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 a'n't 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 PUN.
" FINE 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?"  They
could n't.  " I'11 tell you, then; it's because they are
more apt to get worsted."




VARICOSE VEINS               163
VARICOSE  VEINS.
"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
a 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 varicose veins, mem," replied
the doctor, blandly.
"' Do tell! " cried the old lady; " 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 original 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 choicelysaved copy of the Puritan Recorder. " We are no better
than we ought to be" - generally.




164       MRS. PARTINGTON ON VACATION
MRS. PARTINGTON ON VACATION.
" FIVE weeks' vexation in August! " said Mrs. Partington, 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! "
But it was not in anger; for she felt in her capacious
pocket, and, from away down under her snuff-box, and
thimbles, and bone-buttons, and needles, and pin-cushions, 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.




TORCHLIGHT PATRIOTISAM.          165
TORCHLIGHT PATRIOTISM..~-~- ~ ~  ~~flh-0ooRAY! hooray!" yelled
Ike1, as he dashed in at the
front-door with a lighted
~ ~  torch swinging it over his
"lIiiII  ____  head, and spattering the
I W,.Ik~l'~ ~oily fluid around upon the
40il    ~ tables and chairs, a drop
even falling upon the snow/  /   ",t' white table-cover that lay
folded up on a shelf. The: —'~~~__~- ---— ~    smoke of the torch filled
_-____        _-__,~ —~    ~ the  kitchen, and rolled
along the snow-white ceiling in murky volume, to the great annoyance of Mrs.
Partington, who always said if there was anything on
" airth " that she held in utter I" excrescence," it was
"ile."
"What's to pay now?" said the dame rising, and
she heard, through the floor, the noise made by the
" unterrified democracy " in torchlight procession assembled. 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 think it is a good
many roar. Ah!" continued she, " I do love to see the




166       MRS. PARTINGTON ON SUFFRAGE.
unclarified democracy in possession, with their torches a
blazing and their patrickism 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.
IMRS. PARTINGTON 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 souls 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 creturs to find out, and a'n't worth much after you have
found'em out."
This was intended as a lesson to Margaret, who was
working Charlotte and Werter on a blue ground, at her
side; but Margaret had her own idea of the matter, and
remained silent.




DOWN WITH THE TYRANT.           167
DOWN WITH THE TYRANT.
"HA! ha! Down with the tyrant! Death to the
Spaniard! " 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. Partington, with amazement on her
countenance and the glass lamp in her hand, stood looking at him.  Ike had been reading the thrilling tale of
the "Black Avenger, or the Pirate of the Spanish
Main," and his "intellects," as Sir Hugh Evans might
say, were absorbed by the horrible.
"Don't, Isaac, dear," said Mrs. Partington, and she
spoke in a gentle, but firm tone. " You are very scarifying, and it don't look well to see 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
so. I am afraid I shall have to send you to a geological 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 disarmed him. What a visible




168     MRS. PARTINGTON AND THE CLERK.
emotion of peanuts became manifest as he grasped the
copper and made tracks for the door, and climbed over
the snow drifts to reach the grocer's opposite!
MRS. PARiTINGTON AND THE CLERK.
"Is the steamer signified, sir? " asked Mrs. Partington 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 pleaqantly at the old lady, and evidently
pleased with his o0'smartness.
" That is S't Pssible," responded the venerable dame;
" b," said~e to herself, "how could he be expected
to know about such things? and yet there is no reason
why he shouldn't, fo -all the bars to science,'notamy
and them things, ia; ret downiyi-a-days, and Natur is
shown a!  undressed, like a, puppet-show, sixpence a
0od morning, sir," said she, as he bowed her out;
and as shlq  ed down the stairs her mind, grasping the
manifoldssubjects of the telegraph, queen, and facilities
in ieate, became oblivioixUin 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 advancement, on 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 glee and a time of thankfulness, - the
twin feelings of the season. The joy of meeting after
long separation; the gathering of Fi~endly 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 are worship, and offerings of thankfulness, where sweet innocence lends its charm.
It was known, months ago, that T6m was to come
home from the city to Thanksgiving. He had been gone
a whole year, and Whien his great red face had disappeared 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 he 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 around
the old homestead is as bright as ever. And Tom is
actually coming home to Thanksgiving, and the girls
will pinch his red cheeks and tease him with their kindnesses as they used to do. His last letter tells his
father that he must have the mare 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 are 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
-.served for the evening, when they are seated round the
cAeerful 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 married, and if his cousin John had given him the little
Bible his 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 far one day, - the heart's jubilee.
Theugh sin and excess may mark and mar its hilarity, 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. -IIHUMAN NATURE.
PEACE INCULCATED.
"BETTER is a crust of bread and quietness therewith
than a stollid 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 neighborhood! 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 sunlight came into the window, and looked through her specs
down into her soul, and it was as calm there as the bottom 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 ist urious to
observe the avidity and eagerness with which the millionaires watch her operations, and peep over to catch a
glimpse at the interior of the wallet. That is human
nature.




MR. STEADFAST'S SOLILOQUY.       173
MR. STEADFAST'S SOLILOQUY.
WELL, 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's 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 before. 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-ye-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 against 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? 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 makl 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 it
When my mind's made up, there's no moving me.
15*




174        MRS. PARTINGTON RURALIZING.
MI RS. PARTINGTON RURALIZING.
MRS. PARTINGTON and Ike were huckleberrying 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'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 certainly 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 wearer's activity.  Ike remained outside.
Fizz-z-z - Buzz-z-z! - what was that  - a humblebee, as we are a sinner. Another and another. The log
cabin was besieged, and Mrs. Partington rushed frantically 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 Ire did not
escape, for a big humblebee attacked him, and he roared
heartily with a sting upon his cheek. The laugh disappeared.
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 humblebee's nest being in there?
Mrs. Partington avowed that she "never was so frustrated by anything in her born days," and the people
believed her. She thinks, notwithstanding the bees, that
she would like to have a " villain" in the country, and
become an " amatory" farmer.
Y VENTILATION.
IN the course of his rambles in the country, Mr.
Spotgam called at a poor-looking house by the road-side
to inquire the whereabouts of a trout brook which he
supposed to be in the vicinity. Some pretty children
attracted his attention, and he stepped inside the door to
play with them, and invest a few cents in their affection.
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 beeir broken out. IHis mind turned to a nice mathematical 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 FROMI IKE, IN THE COUNTRY.
HILLTOP, Sept. 10, 1852.
-EAR BOB- I wish you
was up here, and the
way we would train you
wouldn'tbe slow. There
I;ti  X:~t    /  ~       is boys enough up here,
4 |   |  >   but they don't know
nothing. When I first
come they did n't know
how to play jack-stones!
But you'd better believe I soon made'em
fly round. I've found
enough to do since I've been here. We'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 everybody said they knowed I did it on purpose. But you
know I would n't.
We'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 n'tjike 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'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. lie's a real cross old chap, and has n't got no
friends.
There'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'em, and I got a
dozen of'em t' other day to bring home, and put'era in
a barrel, and forgot all about'em, and there they stayed
for ten days.  I put'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 him 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'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 it
it turned out to be a green punkin.
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 PARTINGTON.
OUT  OF  PLACE.
"DOES your arm pain you much, sir 3" 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; but why do you ask? "
" 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," " My
Diamond," " My Lily," or some such nice and delicate
name. Of all that we have ever heard, however, the
Irish term, "My Bloomer," sounds to us the best.
These terms are all well enough when used in private
endearment, but when uttered in the presence of others
they operate with a most nauseating effect. Fancy a
man, brimfull of the charms of his Dulcinea, 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 "' 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 " for his idol; and for several years she had lighted
his path and his pocket in the way that lovers understand. It grew near the period when the word was to
be spoken that should make them  "one flesh," when,
calling at her dwelling one evening, he asked the housegirl, who met him in the entry, if his "Light" was
in.




180          LEARNING TO RELISH IT.
" No," said she, "your light has just gone out -
with Mr.," naming an old rival.
Jealous pains seized him; he rushed to his boardinghouse, 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 RELISH IT.
WE were surprised to see Mr. Slow at an opera one
evening. Leaning over the back of his seat, we remarked that we had- an impression that he did n'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 olives, -
but by eddication we come to like'em. That's jest the
way with opery 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'q nothing like
eddication. Natur is well enough in her place, but
eddication does the job."
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. Partington 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."
c' Well, well," replied she, I"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. Partington, as she leaned forward, with her hands resting on the window ledge, and
peered out into the street through a chink in the blinds.
It was n't a deep well, expressive of content or satisfaction, but it was an ejaculatory well, that found expression 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 be, for a dreadfuler looking creature I never did see,
with them mustychokes on his mouth - nobody would n't
have him. I've heerd'em 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 bygone 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! "  She emphasised the "more," as if the contrast 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, which gave to every
object she looked upon the hues of her own benignity.




MRS. PARTINGTON AND PROBATE.         183
AIRS. PARTINGTON AND PROBATE.
"0,  WHAT trials a poor widow has to go through!5
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'11 make my
husband fabricate his will before he orders his weddingcake; —I'11 take Time by the foretop, as Solomon says,
you may depend upon it."
She here revived a little, and the subtle powder passed
to its destination, and reported itself home by an emphatic sneeze.
EXTRACT from a great unwritten poem of 1051 verse
entitled " Ye Constabel ":"Ye constabel from one man took
A large and ample fee,
I'11 now take one from ye t'other side,
Said ye constabel, said 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, depreciatingly.' No, sir," replied she, " they are not very ruminous;
but here are two little bed-rooms contagious that perhaps
you did n't see."
He looked in, and, in a supercilious tone, muttered,
"Bugs!" implying want of cleanliness,- a reflection
on the 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 sixfooter did he have, unresisting, by the nose, and many a
fierce eye quailed beneath the gleam of that blade whose
edge so many had keenly felt. It was a sublime spectacle to behold him while enjoying his momentary triumph,- 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, awaiting tremblingly the blow that should send him forth
noseless, a scoff and a reproach among men; though,
thanks to mighty science, such calamity seldom happened.
A farmer, 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 pretending a desire to purchase.' He took a big and fearful
oath, one day, - he was a very crabbed man, - that the
first boy who that day took a bite should likewise take a
cut with it; he swore it on his whip!
16*




186          DID IT HURT YOU MUCH.
He jogged on undisturbed; the urchins read "wmht
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' long so to eat an apple,"
-and he, as he was 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 Paradise was to Adam. A whistlingc 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
mitted 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 neighbor, 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 couldn'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. Suds, did it
hurt you much? "  To say that fire flashed from his
ayes 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 suffered 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 U'
said   Mrs. Parting*ton, smilingly, shaking
_ hands with Burbank, in
the Dock-square omnibus, as he held out his
in   five dexter digits toITawards her.
-    Fare, ma'am! " said!he, in reply to her inquiry.
"t- t: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 interested.
"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!'
"O!i " 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 "Ilast
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 pociret, to catch t' other coach.
PAYINO PROMPTLY.
" IF there is any place in this world where I like to
ransack business more than another," said Mrs. Partington, with animation, untying from the corner of her handkerchief 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 youi
heels are up or your head is down; all you have to do is
to put your bill on the counter, and they payit without
saying a word."
The old lady had presented a check for a quarter's
pension-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
"MIEMI ENTO MORY."
BEFORE Old Roger left boarding at No. 47, he forfeited 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 them, a little bolder than the rest, ventured
to ask him what he was doing that for.
" O,' said Roger, very placidly, crowning the pile he
had made with the cover of the sugar-bowl, " I am only
erecting a memento Mory."
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 suddenly manifest in cold potatoes, and in the rheumatic
condition of his room attic; so he left.




192                MESMERISM.
ME S I E RI SM.
"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 miserymiser, 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," subsided, like a wave upon the shore.




SLIGHT MISTAKE.-CONSIDERABLY TRUE.  193
A SLIGHT MIISTAKE.
MR. VERIGREEN, 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 gentleman was rather indignant, and demanded what he was
looking at.
" Nothin' 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
would n'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, does 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 confusion that existed, nor once begged us not toI "look
round."
17




194            OLD BULL'S CONCERT.
OLD BULL'S CONCERT.
" OLD Bull's concert! " said Mlrs. Partington, glance
ing up from her knitting as she read the announcement
of the grand concert on Saturday evening, and she smiled
as the ridiculous fancy ran through her mind, like a grasshopper in a stubble field, of an old bull giving a concert.
"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'em 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'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 uproarious, I should think, and better fitted for overturns than
for pastureal 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
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 expression, 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. " I don't know," said she, C" about
these Angular Saxons being any better than our oldfashioned ones."
Ike had been reading to her an article upon the destiny of the Anglo-Saxon race.
" 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, naturall.y; 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'em, 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 his handkerchief 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




t196                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. Paltington, 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 by the fire. She
spoke to herself; it was a way she had; she met with
no contradiction from that quarter. " This is a discovery i! Where is Tom Paine and his gas now, I should like
to know? H ere I'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 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-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. PARTINGTON AT THE OPERA.        19 
MRS. PARTINGTON 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 intrusion.
"Will you be kind enough to lend me your observatory 3 " asked a voice that we thought we remembered.
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 diamondstudded opera-glass, that we had hired at Fetridge's for
twenty-five cents, - denominating it an "' observatory."
" Is this the right pocus 3 " said she; "  Is'pose I shall
have to digest it to my sight, for my poor visionary orgies
are giving 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.
"It a'n't no use," said she, as she handed the glass:
1T*




198        A SLIGHT MISAPPREHENSION.
"I can't understand better with that, — I shouk
bought one 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 MISAPPREHIENSION.
AiRs. PARTINGTON was at Thackeray's last lecture, -
Mir. T. had kindly sent her a card, admitting one, - and,
forgetting the theme of the lecture, she leaned over the
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
postured 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 Bonypart?" said Mrs. Partington, as Ike threw down the
paper in which he had read a comparison between the
" 18th Brumaire" and the 1" coup d'etat."  In the uncertain 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'em, - 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
cf it. And now he's come back agin, with all his blue
mares 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. PARTINGTON says she don't see 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.
RAND_ tLLN        W    AS Paul inclined to polit^.'~ Gina I\zS g     tics?" we asked of Mrs.
////l i/   old dame reading a grand
/II~'~~, 1 rally" hand-bill at the
corner of the grocery store.
She asked us to wait a
moment tillshe "digested"
her specs.  "Inclined to'~- -~  politics!" said she, and!  her eyes rested upon the
_   period at the end of the
list 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'em are; all he wanted was an exereise of his sufferings and the use of his elective French
eyes, as he used to say.  Ah, Heaven rest him! " exclaimed she, as her eyes rose from the period at the bottom
of thebill and rested on the top of the fence.  " But did
he never get an office, Mhrs. P. 7" we asked.  " Yes,
replied she, and 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 teaspoonful of water" yes, he was put one year for a hogreefer, and got
neglected." As we were about asking her opinion of the




A PREDICTION.               201
new constitution, Ike came along whi3tling "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, " O, 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! did it hurt him much? did it kill him instantly?"
" O, no, aunt!" replied he; " it did n't hurt him at
all, for the sleigh had n't any horse in it."
His face beamed with fun.
" A'h, 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 gathered 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 hin an apple.




202    THE DESSERT. — BOSTON MUSIC HALL.
THE DESSERT.
" DESERT, did you say. " growled old Roger, at a
festival supper some time ago, to a person who sat opposite him at the table, who had called for the dessert;
" come over this side, my friend, and you'11 have no
occasion to call for it. It's quite a desert, and almost
a perfect famine here already, and has been so all the
evening. Don't look at that turkey — that is nothingthat is only a promise made to the hope and broken to
the stomach; for human strength cannot divide its members-they are unanimously tough."  And the little
man recommenced ogling a ham that was rapidly disappearing in the dim distance, and mumbled cheese crumbs
to allay the cravings of unsatisfied appetite.
BOSTON MIUSIC HALL.
WHEN Mrs. Partington first visited the new Music
Hall, she looked at the structure with great admiration.:fwas in the day-time, and the gas burners over the
edge of the cornice met her eye. Turning to Mrs. Battlegash, who sat next to her, she remarked that every,
uthing 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 reach them.




TROUSSEAU OP 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," said Mrs. Partington, raising her
finger, and glancing at him over the top of her spectacles; "is that so? "
He assured her that it was.
" Well," continued she, and a blush of offended modesty crossed her features, like the sun-flush on the newly
reddened barn-door; "that may be the way they do
things in Paris, but it is n't modest to begin with. A
woman has no right to wear'em.'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'n'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 TIIE REVOLUTION.
" WE have little left of the revolutionary stock, now,"
said the schoolmaster, as he seated himself in Mrs. Partington'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. Drawing a chair towards her, she smilingly steppel 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 fhe schoolmaster didn't see 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. "I 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't it a relict?"
Bless thee, Mrs. Partington! and thou art a relict,
thyself, more to be prized than stacks of arms; and, did




44;
STOCK OF THE REVOLUJTION.








PIILOSOPHY OF COUNTRY HEALTH.        205
thy warm spirit pervade the land, war would be no longer
the scourge of the nations, and men vould not know
fighting any more.
PHILOSOPHY OF COUNTRY HEALTIH'.
"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 opinions, 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              THE PROMENADE.
THE PROMENADIE.
WE sat directly in front of Mrs. Partington at Jullien's
concert, one night, and were pleased to witness the marked
attention that she paid to the performance. The first
part had been concluded, and the " fifteen minutes' intermission 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 3 "
We looked at her inquiringly, and she looked inquiringly back again.
" Carry it round?"
" Yes," replied she, " the promenade here.'T is the
refreshment part of the entertainment, is n't it  "
We explained to her the meaning of the word "promenade," and, with a long drawn' O0! " 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. PARTINGTON IN THE CROWD.        207
iIRS. PARTINGTON IN THE CROWD.
"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'em peace-makers because
they tear people all to pieces; and, 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
jay 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 preachmng."
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 flies,
or something, troubled that marshal's horse all the while
he stood there.
A CEREOUS MIATTER.
"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 anybody killed,
or had their legs and limbs broke, or what?"
"' O," 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 Mbad. Bl't Ike
went out with his top, laughing all the while, a-:1 the
old lady subsided into the old arm-chair, and weit on
with her knitting.




ANCIENT AND MODERN REMEDIES CONTRASTED. 209
ANCIENT AND 1MODERN REMEDIES
CONTRASTED.
" THEY don't doctor folks now as my physician learnt
me," said Mrs. Partington, sagely tapping her snuff-box
by the couch of a fiend lying indisposed.  Her gesture
was very expressive, and the profundity of a whole Med.
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
apecac, 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 tenderness 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 I-ydrapathics, 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 tho
18*




210          MR. SLOW IN THE MOON.
roses on the room-paper, " 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.
MIR. SLOW  IN  TIIE  MOON.
MIR. 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,'Bimelech, 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 MIr. Slow, looking down at him; "that's all true, that is,'can.ul  it's in
the primer."
Abimelech was satisfied - so was Mr. Slow,




MY LITTLE BOY.               211
MY LITTLE BOY.;ERHAPS he is in no wise different from everybody's little boy
— I dare say he is no taller,
or thicker, or heavier, than ten
i\@i    thousand other boys who have
had existence, and been the
1&  idol of doting papas, and mam              ~. _-~-\4 W i  mas, and maiden aunts.  He'_ l,, ) [  is not an original boy in a
a  *.t\\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 e.very
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 himself 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.
manceuvres 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 gravitation, as, when unlucky circumstance kicks him out of
bed or throws him from a chair, he invariably strikes the
floor; and my boy has had knocks enough on his head to
realize a faith with regard to his profundity equal to
that of Captain Cuttle in the renowned Bunsby, 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 even spare maternity in his
" experimental philosophy."
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 dishwater.
My boy delights in experimenting in hydraulics, -
now essaying to administer hydropathy by the dipperfull 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 unheeds
the suasion that would limit will; republicanism speaks
through every act, independence in every look, freedom 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; thereward 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 anything, -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
quick 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 boy is all-exacting in his demands, — demands
sure enough, as imperious as those of a prince; and his
brow frowns, and his little voice rings again, if his demands are 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, and
his arms encircle my neck in a sweet embrace, and his
cheek reposes against mine in the fulness of childish
love, and then I feel that my little boy is better than
everybody's, and I can'tbe made to begin to believe at
such times but that everybody must think so. In short,
as Mr. Micawber might say, my boy is a trump card in
my domestic pack.




MY LITTLE BOY.               215
MY LITTLE BOY.
LJ IAT "Little Boy," of whom it
/  was our delight and pride to
-~~    /g/ /   speak, is no more. His sweet
7 ///// /  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;
iSL~~; the mild beaming of his eyes is. ~   quenched in the darkness of
death; his arms are no more
outstretched upon loving impulses, 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 conceive 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.
orable Death, and that the roseate robes of to-day's Joy
may be usurped to-morrow by the sable drapery of affliction.
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 everybody 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 between
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 affliction 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 them
becomes pleasant and joyous. We see them, " with their
angel plumage on; " we feel them around us upon viewless wings, filling our minds with good influences and
blessed recollections; freed from the sorrows and temptations 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 mournful prolixity - this justifiable lamentation. But
" We shall all go home to our Father's houseTo our Father's house in the skies,
Where the hope of our souls shall have no 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 few
thousands of dollars in charity, is well enough," said
old Roger; "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 
Not thlat! "
And he snapped his fingers, and felt sustained in his
high estimate of the poor woman's small donation.




ON REMEDIES. -A NEW INSTRUMENT.   219
MIRS. PARTINGTON ON REAMEDIES.
"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 themselves 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 INSTRUMIENT.
" WHEN is he going to bring on the wioleen? " whispered Mrs. Partington to a neighbor, at the Melodeon,
after listening through the first part of Ole Bull's concert.
"That's it, ma'am, which he is now playing on."
"Why, that's a fiddle, a'n't it?  Good gracious!
why can't they call things by their right names 3 "
And she left the hall, saying te the door-keeper, as
she passed, that it was only a fiddle after all.




220                  CRIT1:ISMI.
CRITICIS IM.
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 foreshortening of that paw; now; and the expression of the
eye, too, is 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.
I" Why, it's only a cat, arter all," said Mrs. Partington, as she surveyed it through her specs; but Augustus 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, indeed; -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 attradted 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 eloquence warms me in every nerve and cartridge of my
body. Verdigrease 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 the whole hour he was on the stand.
19*




222      NAVES OF THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
NAVES OF THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
" WYELL," said Mrs. Partington, as Ike read the paragraph from the Post that the decorators were at work
on the two naves of the Crystal Palace.  She paused at
the': 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 are taking time
by the fire-lock arid looking arter the knaves aforehand.
Knaves in the Christian parish, indeed! But they will
get in, the 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 hypocrisy 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.




MR. bISBEE'S CONFESSION.          223
MIR. BISBEE'S CONFESSION.
IT was a rash promise that I, Jeremiah Bisbee, had
made to the youngest Miss Teel to gallant her to church.
I knew that she would be offended if I did not comply,
and yet how I felt! The previous evening's amusement
had extended well towards daylight, and a more miserably-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 Seraphima in the Rev. Mr. Blunt's
church.
I had no seat there, but my cousins, the Misses Titmarsh, 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 respectable 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 (fortyseven if they were a day) called it.




224          M.I BISBEE'S CCNFESSION.
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 characteristic, 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 the spacious, highbacked 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, 1" Sleep on, and take your rest;"
and every wakeful feeling within me began to grow
heavy about the eyes at the injunction.  I strugglcd
against slumber, as a man overboard would struggle with
the tide. MIy 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 lmy cousins. the




MR. BISBEE'S CONFESSION.         225
Misses Titmarsh, 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 that 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 misbehaved. 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 extravagance 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. Hum-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 intc 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
Seraphima, - when, - I blush to say it, though it was
the means of my becoming a reformed man, and a tolerable 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.  "Heaven be thanked for this! "
says I; "here's an opening;" and, seizing the unconscious 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 consultation 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
the errors of youth 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 me, and Scraphima, in a long life of devoted attention on my part, has
quite forgot that Sunday's mortification.
GEIRIMANIA BAND.
"How do you like the music, Mrs. P.2 " asked her
neighbor of the old lady, as she stood listening to the
Germania band, one evening on the common, and beating time on the cover of her snuff-box.
" Beautiful!" replied she, enraptured, "oncommou
beautiful! It seems almost like the music of the syrups.
I think the Geranium band the sweetest of any of'cm.
Can you tell me," said she, in a big whisper, " which
is Mr. Bergamot  "
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
Serenaders 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.




228            A GOOD SUGGESTION.
A GOOD SUGGESTION.
~7ESSRS. CIHANG and ENG
- those interesting exQ L < W         otics, from  whose land
all the golden fountains
and talking lauras, and
V~  7' "-"-.singing trees that graced
hwere  derived - were
much gratified by an introduction to Mrs. Partington, one of whom
31;4~4YU   _-:- ~assured her that he had
heard of her in Siam
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 coming summer, the old dame wondered at
the determination.
" HIow crowded you will be!" said she, " accommodations are so scarce; though, I dare say, you could,
upon a'mergency, 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 OMINIBUS.
"IF you want to take a'bus," said Mr. Sphynx, in
his oracular manner, "you must be'mazing sly; you
must n'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 miff'd, and says you,' I'll walk!' Start
in the rain -get wet; when you get almost where you
want to go,'long comes one of'em, like blazes - lots
of room - looking at you as much as to. say,' See here,
old boy! 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'1
be the wrong'bus, and you'll have to walk, arter 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'll come right along; don't be uneasy'bout
getting a seat, and there'11 be plenty of room; conclude
that you'll 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. Sphyxs
retired.
20




230          IKE 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 he
would try the instrument a little after the congregation
was dismissed. He expressed his desire to the boy, who
consented to blow; for there are few more obliging boys
than Ike when he is well used. He pumped away vigorously for some time, until his arm ached, when, peeping round the corner of the organ, he asked if he 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 commenced, 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 inharmoniously 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 distant view of a pair of juvenile coat-tails as they disap.
peared round a corner.




UNPOPULAR DOCTRINE.             231
UNPOPULAR DOCTRINE.
"I WAS surprised, Mr. Roger, to see you speaking
with that creature," said Miss Prim, significantly emphasizing the word.
" Why, madam?" asked the old man.
" Because she is a low, vile creature of the town,"
said she, waspily.
HIe 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, I 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.




282               BENEVOLENCE.
BENEVOLENCE.
PHILANTIHROPOS, 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 principal 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,
where every man could have a room to himself, and
every accommodation he could desire. The response was
" Yes."
"Well," said the good man, with 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 locomotive 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




MYSTERIO US ACTION OF RATS.         233
they came the next morning to take it away.  His
indignation for a moment was awakened; despair succeeded 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
new objects for the exercise of his benevolence.
IMYSTERIOUS 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 ever
chlorosive supplement, nor anything weaker than a pad
lock, will save Mrs. Partington's cake.
20O




284        MRS. P. ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
MRS. P. ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
"WHEN will the Father of Waters come along?"
asked Mrs. Partington, as she 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 digested 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 3 " said Mrs. Partington, 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 OF THE CONSTITUTION.      235
PROVISIONS OF THE CONSTITUTION.
"PRovISIoNs of the Constitution! " said Mrs. Part
mgton, 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 glad 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 ood than they
do now a good many of'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 askoel her if
he should n't give her a " tig whicket."




236   SEVERE; BUT JUST. -MRS. P. AND PIETY.
SEVERE, BUT JUST.'DOLLY PRIM a spinster, indeed! " said Mrs Partinton, as she heard her unmarried neighbor in the back
parlor termed thus. " I 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! "
O! 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.
MIRS. PARTINGTON AND PIETY.
DEACON SNARL, in exhortation, would often allude to
the "place where prayer is' wonted' to be made."
"'Ah!'" said Mrs. Partington to herself, " there'
nothing like humility in a Christian. I'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'll 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.




BRICKS AND STRAW. — MEDALLIC PROSPECTS. 237
BRICKS AND STRAW.
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. Presuming the answer will not be forthcoming, he says,
1" 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 came
home from the examination, and threw his books. into
one chair, and his jacket in another, and his cap on the
floor, saying that he didn't get the medal, - " I don't
see why you did n't get the medal, for, certainly, a more
meddlesome boy I never knew. 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.




2838      MRS. PARTINGTON BEATIN G UP.
MRS. PARTINGTON 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 exasperated 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 SIOT.-SHOT.-SHOCKING JOE.     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, " I
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.
"B1ecause," replied he, " you are always raising
shocks for the corn-market."
"Yes," quietly replied the farmer, " but the market
is always saying,' lend us your ears.' 
Old Roger and the farmer smiled at each other as they
parted.




240                  RI)ING.
RIDING.
HAT a vast improvement has been made
upon the old methods and means of
1'~,~ travelling, even within the memory of
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 roughness, which the jolly tongue of the red-faced driverprovided 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 passengers 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, however, 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, determined 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 oldestof
its class.  A sudden cry from a child who was passing
caused him to look round, and there to his horror hc
saw the old gentleman's bald head glistening in the sun's
rays 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, incapable 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 tell it to you,"'
said the driver.
21




242      MRS. PARTINGTON 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 family of crows
down the road here."
A very singular story, we thought, and think so
still.
MRS. PARTINGTON 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 reached 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 " IHere's haddick! " from stentorian lungs under her window, and she
could not make out what the sounds meant.
"I wish I knowed 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 could
not relieve.




FORESEEING THINGS BEFOREHAND.         248
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'!
Here's a horse, and a wheelbarrow, and a tub; and
there's a big G and a cipher; and here's a flock of geese
and a cow. The cow anid.he 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 remember her poor relations at such times, as she always does.
Yes, it must be her,'cause there's a tub, and the wheelbarrow 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 the fat lady occupied the front seat in Mrs. Partington's private box.




244                A SINUOSITY.
A SINUOSITY.
OLD ROGER was seated at the dinner-table by the side
of Seraphima, the youngest of the five marriageable
daughters. The conversation turned upon conundrums
and queer comparisons. The old fellow leaned. back in
his chair, and, wiping the traces of soup from his mouth,
said, as he took the young lady's hand in his own, "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' hock-shin' soup before us all? "
The hand was drawn back suddenly, - that fair hand,
compared with a vile pile of beef sinews! The boarders were astonished at his audaciousness, - Seraphima
frowned.
" You can't guess, can you 3'  said the jolly old fellow. "Well," continued he, "it is because there is such
tendonness 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' itch theology' is," said Mrs.
Partington, giving a somewhat novel pronunciation of the
old science, as she read the announcement of the lecture
by Professor Agassiz; " what in the name of Old Scratch
can it be? I suppose it must mean the itch for meddling
with politics and things that does n't conccrn'em, and
running down their own country and relations, and praising 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 politics 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. Partington's piping-cord in his nncket
for contingencies.
21*




246   ETERNAL INDEBTEDNESS. - NEWSPAPERS.
ETERNAL INDEBTEDNESS.' WIIEN 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. Ahb., 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 newspaper one moment? " asked Mrs. Partington at the grocery
store.' Certainly, my dear madam, with the greatest reluctance 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 wake 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." every generation grows wiser and wiser."




248          FORGIVENESS OF WRONG.
FORGIVENESS OF WRONG.
IHE called me a termagrunt, and said I was n't any
better than I should be," said Mrs. 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 termagrunt 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. IHer 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
it7  Why, pump-kin, to be sure.




A NEGATIVE AFFIRMATIVE.           249
A NEGATIVE AFFIRMATIVE.
MR. TIMMS, 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 particular 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 going3 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 young 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 frontispiece.
" No, it isn't," said she, smiling; "no, it is n't by
Heaven itself, but by its sun; is n't it beautifully done?
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 husband 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 pursuing in her own mind the train of her admiration, and
went out like an exploded rocket.
MAN is born to work i and he must work while it is day."
" Have I not," said a great worker, "all eternity to
work in? "
" Well," said Slug, who did n't love work, "if that's
the case, what'n time's the use of putting in so? I'd
jist as lieves divide the work, and do part of mine when
that cove's resting."




rRECOCITY.                 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 understood by people of limited means. It was an excellent
pie, the chef d'euvre of the culinary skill of Mrs. Smith,
who prided herself upon what she could do if she only
had the I" grediences." 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 S MOUSE-TRAP.
MIR. THIMBLE'S MOUSE-TRAP.
HE old gentleman one,/t',morning discovered a
mouse in his bedchamber.  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 very bed-chamber 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 gentleman 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 inseparable, 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 manner; 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 beneath the bureau; in vain 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 see 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 particular favor, regardless of the rest, until, with a tremendous 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-B00.
Some time after, speaking of his activity, Mrs. Thnnble remarked, -
" My dear, I did n't think it was in you."
lMr. T. looked queerly at her, as she uttered this, but
did n't say anything.
IMRS. 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-adays! 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 isn'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 3 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.




CN ELOCUTION.                255
ON ELOCUTTION.
cc O, 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 declaimer,
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 " empyrean blue," dashing helter
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 terraqueous shell, and revelling in Hadean horrors in underground 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 heore to-night, I know he'd see ne 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."
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.
0UTRAGE.
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 effect of the
concussion upon an object so tender may be well imagined. Smelling-bottles were called for, and, none being
at hand, one young lady applied her glove to the sufferer'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. S. - We wish it to be distinctly understood that it
was the glove, and not the nose, that had been cleaned
with the turpentine.








a_____  _ _            I
lot:ii~~~~~ ~~ IN! TE   R
_                               /
11(E IN THE COUN.TRY.




IRE IN TILE 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 junction 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 outside 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 repugnance to him ever since he trod on her tail as she lay by
the stove.  He immediately seized upon her, and expedients, 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-shells 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 barnyard in peace all the while he staid there, and came home
with a pocket full of doughnuts and an enviable reputation for propriety.




AN ALLEGORY.                259
TIHE NEW YEAR-AN ALLEGORY.
" WIIAT are your intentions towards Miss New-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 of 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 youth, 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! alas! " 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 fox
bygone years? They have found their end in glooxm ana




260               AN ALLEGORY.
disappointment. How can I trust, then, this precious
charge to your arms in view of olden failures  "
Then young Time, laying down his hour-glass and
gayly swinging his scythe among the few weeds left of
the herbage of the old 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 my acts, and if endeavor may win the goal, my chance
is good. Let me try."
The old guardian grasped Time by the hand approvingly; 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 crown of his hat, and fill his trousers'
pockets with cucumbers. It don't look well.




THE ARCHITECTURAL BLACK EYE.       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.
" 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 CItET.
IT was with an anxious feeling that Mrs. Partington,
having smoked her specs, directed her gaze towards the
western sky, in quest 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 1
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 mods
ern priests.




BENEVOLENCE UNAPPRECIATED.          263
BENEVOLENCE UNAPPRECIATED.
PHILANTHROPOS 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 source 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. Philanthropos went out and sold
the fan for seven cents that he had given a quarter for
an hour before.
AN 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 PARTING WORD.
THE PARTING WORD.
Ni. telling a story about! a Printer, I am not
sh:',ip4;about detailing  the
the' Prsien o  he:Fmysteries and difficul-; lties of his occupation,
feel  ii:.a  ialthough  a  feeling
M;~~~d~~Pl,              and interesting sketch
were?   might be made of the
business of his life,
t e  with its care and toil
for the good of the
-~~_     world.  I love the
printers from association and long habit; am proud now of their companionship; and, when walking arm-and-arm with my friend,
the President of the Franklin TypograpShi6al 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 printing-office.  The mag



TUE PARTIi G WORD.             265
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 people'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 importance 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 grownup apprentice from the neighboring town, and the demor.
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
in 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 apprenticewho bore the uneuphonious name of Jabez Bee. He was
a spirited fellow, very intelligent, and as full of mischief
"as an egg is full of meat," to use an expressive modernism. He was a constant attendant upon the tavern, in
23




266            THE PARTING WORD.
all his leisure moments, where, attracting a crowd )f
countrymen around him, he would astonish them by the
keenness of 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
himn, 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 Jabe~z 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 matters 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
save the child's lamb from drowning in the well, and re



THE 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 hereafter 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 blacksmith, 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 delighted 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 X 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 Jabez Bee looked
upon the fair Susan admiringly, but at a distance. He
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.  He 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 shrine 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. He 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 literally groaned with
the efforts of his awakened muse; and well it might groan,
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
clesely 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 knockings
had just come along, some, in levity, gave it as their




THE PARTING WORD.              269
opinion that he had had an ifiterview 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,
grandmother's ghost and all, should be swallowed up by
a knowledge of the fact.
There was to be a great picnic in Patny. The Freeman'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.
Jabez 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 berries 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 sunshine to his heart.  And now his heart, that interesting
organ, throbs wildly, as he sees her with playful recklessness 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 the boat and the other supporting his
fair burden, he held her above the current until assistance came, when, completely exhausted with the exertion used, he fainted as he reached the shore.
In such manner did the intimacy commence between 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 gener



TEE PARTING WO RD.             271
osity of her lover won her heart, as her beauty and innocence 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 candle, 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 als)
to the miller's maiden sister, who watched the last kiss crn
the door-step, when he tore himself away the night before
he went to Boston. But she did n't hear what he said.
"Dear Susan," said he, "keep up a good heart, and I
snaili 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.'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 lovecharm that evil and temptation cannot overcome."
IIe 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, " your




]72-            THE PARTING WORD.
4ffectionsi may be sorely tried in the great city, and
emptation will beset your path, but my prayers shall be
ffered for you, and the word I would have you rememPer above all others is FIDELITY.  Let us be faithful to,ach other.  Remember,'fidelity.' 
He kissed the lips that uttered the word and vowed 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, it seemed
lie easiest thing in the world.
And now he is in the city, a wondering and admiring
stranger; and; after considerable difficulty, a compositor
mn a morning paper.  Day by day, and night by night,
iigh up under the eaves, is he toiling, breathing the
etid and smoky atmosphere of the printing-office..  Ho
%as become " the slave of the lamp - he and 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 solace -for him Christ has risen
in vain.  The click of types at midnight is heard, like a
death-watch, denoting the flight of time. Telegraphs,
steamboats and railroads, combine for his discomfort.
The reckless and the unhappy are his companions, and
grace struggles in vain to grow in an atmosphere impregnated 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
Hle hears the ribald jest, often aimed at what he regards




THE PARTING WORD.               273
most sacred; 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 unfavorably of their lack of morals, and he 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 enshrined 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, "'t is Saturday;
for this day, at least, we are free; and now, my boy,
what say you to having a good time?  Let's go round
and see the folks."
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 bottomless 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 another 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,
his secret monitor came to him  like the voice of a firebell, 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 "Fidelity " was heard but faintly
in his dread to go. He was delirious. His mind wandered amid early scenes again with Susan Bray. Her
voice he heard in his dreams exhorting him to fidelity.
Again they stood together ac    the old door-step in
Patny, and he was pouring into her listening ear the
story of his temptations and his support, and received
from her sweet lips the deserved approval of his faithfulness. 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




THE PARTING woORD               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 youthful constitution triumphed over disease and medicine, a
fearful odds, and he became conscious. Bright eyes
were beaming over himl; blue eyes, suffused with tears
and affection! Reader, can you guess whose eyes they
were 3  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, edite't
and printed by Jabez Bee. A letter accompanied the
paper, containing a request that I should visit him at
home, and that Susan, his wife, 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."




276                ON GHOSTS.
ON GHOSTS.
__ —-_______7~ — ~o   you believe in ghosts,
~ -1 -- -Mrs. Partington 3" it was
asked of the old lady, somewhat timidly.
" To be sure I do,"' replied she, "as much as I
believe that bright.fulminary there will rise in the
yeast to-morrow morning, if
welive and nothing happens.
Two  apprehensions  have
__   sartinly appeared in  our
"~-~-~ -~' own family. Why, I saw
my dear Paul, a fortnight
before he died, with my own eyes, jest as plain 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!" and she piously turned
to the part of the Book relating to the witch of Endor.




STAGE COMPANIONSHIP.            277
STAGE COMPANIONSHIP.
SOME folks are always talking, and some, with provoking taciturnity, are always saying nothing, to use a
left-handed expression.  We like a good talker, intelligent, 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 hesitates, 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 glumness 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 dummy, 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 fellow we ever
saw. HIe 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
21




278 MR. SMITHI'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 remembered life-long.  The
whole party enjoyed it, save one, and he was the most
woebegone-looking customer we had ever seen. Joking
would n'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 didn't talk.  WithQut
moving his eyes from the contemplation of the horse's
ear, he opened his head, and these words dropped out:
"What's —the-use-of-talking? "
" 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?" 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.WR. SLOW UPON AIORAL WORTH.
"'ISINELECII, you must try and be a good man — I've
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 nowhere.  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 sucah people as you would the smallpox. 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'cm,'cause he did it so
good-naturedly. He was a good man. His name was
always right on'change. He could always get money,
let it be ever so hard. You never catched him squandering 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
histed half-mast,'cause a good man had fell in Israel! "'Bimelech must improve under such training, and is n $
it the world's teaching continually?




280         MR. SLOW OFF SOUNDINGS,
MR. SLOW OFF SOUNDINGS.
"THE airth is round, my son," said Mr. Slow, Impressively, 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 see. The airth
is made up of land, and water, and rocks, besides vegetation 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 a'n't 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 hangs down underneath, jest so. Of course they can't find a bottom."
Mr. Slow gave his boy the apple, and turned roiund,
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 fb.,.t
receives the whacks."




AN EDITOR A LITTLE HEATED.          281
AN EDITOR A LITTLE HEATED.
COpy! quotha? copy! - with the thermometer at 96~.
W'iat 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 awaits you, if you dare provoke us with your
importunity.  The idea of writing at such time is abominable, and no reasonable devil would insist on't. 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 thee, 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 thirst for
revenge, or the seething scald of impending pecuniary
obligation? Away, caitiff! and " tell thy masters this,
and tell them, too," that we will see 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'em.
24*




282             DON'T CUT IT, MISS.
DON'T CUT IT, MIISS.
"DON'T you think my dress much too long 3" 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 of
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 see how the cases were parallel at all.




TWENTY-NINE CATS.               283
TWENTY-NINE CATS.
"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 cars:
"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
growling with the concatenation of malignity in every
note of it that reached her as she leaned over the banister.
" Grac;U.cts 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 marbles.
" Has 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 come




284     OLD ROGER' S SIGNS OF MATRIMONY.
from 3 " asked she; " but I knowed there was a good
many of'em."
" And there's a twoser," continued Ike, still counting, C" and a Chinese."
"Anything like the Maltees, Isaac? " inquired she.' I mean marbles, aunt," said Ike.
"And I mean cats, Isaac," said Mrs. Partington, severely.
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 he had to read the story aloud,
before he went to bed that night, of the boys who were
eaten up by the she-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. PARTINGTON ON TOBACCO,         285
MRS. PARTINGTON  ON  TOBACCO.
" I KNOW that tobacco is very dilatorious," said Mrs.
Partington, as Mr. Trask sat conversing with 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 -  " snuff injures the intellect, affects the nerves, destroys the memory; 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, "'it has a tenderness to the head;
but I couldn'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 get
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
upon the front door-step.




286  GUITAR IN THE HEAD. — A SINGULAR FACT,
GUITAR IN THE HEAD.
MIRS. PARTINGTON'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 ailment, and, like the down-east doctor, was death on fits.
"'I know what ringing in the ears is," continued she;
I" 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.
"~ THEM are very fat critters," remarked Mrs. Partington, as she stood viewing a yoke of splendid steers.
" Yes'm,/ replied the farmer, "and, would you believe 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! " continued
she, and turned aside to admire the beauties of a new
cider-press.




A HIT AT THE TIMES.            287
A  HIT  AT  THE  TIMIES.
"BRED by steam-power! " screamed Mrs. Partington,
as she beard Isaac commence a paragraph about making
bread lby steam. She laid down her work, placed her
hand&e upon her lap, and looked broadly at the boy
threagh her specs. "Bred by steam! " said she; " what
will the world do next? I wonder if this is one of the
la'bor-saving, inventions, now. But I see what it will end
ina. People are fast enough now, in all conscience; but
what will they do when they come to be bred by steampower, 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 morment, 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.




2S8             THE POOR PRINTER.
THE POOR PRINTER.
H-  E poor printer - poor in
/I IIl]l'i   ^  j  l E purse, we mean-reduced
~.lI,., )f.to penury and rags, and
asking  alms about the
printing-offices, is a melancholy sight.  There is
J               enough in one such spectacle to give any man the'.  double-breasted horrors"
for a whole day.  Thereis
a most woe-begone, miserable 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 latter 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 assistance.  He has none of the small lies that appear readyframed 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 a




THE POOR PRINTER.              289
wanderer; no overwhelming tide has pursued him relentlessly in other lands to give him a fortune here.  But he
stands before you, and his appearance pleads for him.
Hie 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 sick, 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-ed.  What a recital! and you cry, "Nuf
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 question of great moment, drawn from a 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 his
head with oracular and owl-like profundity, "it isn't
well to know too much, my boy; your father never didhe know'd too much for that. Thoughts is perplexin',
and the human mind,'Bimelech, 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 arterthe 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 would n'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 things,
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 OLD 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 creditor had a large pile of wood in his barn, several cords
of it, nicely sawed 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. HIe 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.
"lHalloo! " said he, "you are not going away without
putting the wood back again, are 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 told his late debtor to go ahead and
put it back. He went 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 consequences would be if an irresistible should come in
contact with an immovable body, replied that she thought
one or t' other of'em would get hurt.




OPERATIC REBUKE.              293
OPERATIC REBUKE.
"I CAN'T catch the.malady! " said Mrs. 2.artington, at
the opera, as she stood upon tiptoe, in the lobby of the
Howard Athenoeum, in vain attempting to look over the
heads before her.  She had received a ticket, but it
secured nothing but an outs'le position, and she had
gone wandering round like a jolly planet, without any
particular orbit. Ike was in the gallery, eating a penny's worth of pea-nuts, and throwing the shells into the
parquet below.  "I can't catch the malady of the uproar, 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 &   -."
"SMI3ITH   &."
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 plank2 IHad 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 2 Or do they weep as
they gaze upon it at its suggestion of their own loneliness 3  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 
It may have been a separation in strife, where uncongeniality of mind, temper, and habits, engendered bitterness, 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, maybe, at the beginning, as they sat down to talk over their
business schemes, while Hope held 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 happiness! 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 3
Does Smith, with his bitter experience, want another
Jones to torment him 3
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 knowledge of the good qualities of the other; each ready to
endorse the other's note; each having for the other a
cordial salutation when meeting, and "How are ye,
Smith?" and " How are ye, Jones?" sounding heartily, 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 IN AN OMNIBUS.
each referring to that time with satisfaction, and speaking 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
be "cut off" in his goodness.
" 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 ampersand to drag along behind his name, now there is no use
for it, like the end of a broken chain beneath a cart 3
"PULL. away, ma'am, pull away! " said old Roger,
in the omnibus, as he saw a heavy lady dragging vigorously at the check-string; " another such a jerk as that
and he must come through."
"  hrough where? " asked she sharply.
"Why, through the hole there, to be sure; you
were trying to get him through it, was n't you q?"
" No, I was n't; I was only stopping the horses, Mr.
Impudence."
"0," said the old gentleman, "was that all? excuse
me."
She got out, and the'bus moved on




A WOMAN THAT ONE COULD LOVE.         297
A WOMAN THAT ONE COULD LOVE.
" ZNow, 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
street. "A long life could be spent very quietly in
such company; no quarrelling for precedence; no jealousy; 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 affection 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's?'
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.
LESSme! " exclaimed
Mrs.  Partington,
i n tI   ~W icoming in out of
li~  ~i'i~i      breath, and drop-~II "'.ping down into a
"chair, like a jolly
old kedge anchor,
at the same time
fanning herself with
an imaginary fan.
She did not say
Bless me,"  because she was in
want of any particular 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 Commissionaries were so
much worried and fretted about introducing the Cochituate 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 Aquarius; I" look at that bonnet, now!. ruined to all tents and
porpoises by the pesky water-works. Introduce it, indeed! " continued she, ironically, looking severely at the
wrecked article in her hand, "'ta'n't no use of introducing




INTRODUCING TIIE WATER.            299
an 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.
" O, Isaac! " said she, " you'11 be the ruination of
me.  If I was rich as Creosote I could n't stand it."
Isaac gathered 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, to
raise funds for the Fourth of July.




300     RATHER FUNNY. - ON ONE 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, he is actually rolling in riches! "
IIe said this, and turned round, very red in the face,
and struck his cane several times violently on the sidewalk, 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.
" TEE 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.




SEEKING THE LIGHT.              301
SEEKING THE LIGHT.
"I DECLARE, I don't know what to think on it!" said
MIrs. Partington, as she looked intently into the waterpail. 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 water was as pure and transparent as her own benevolence.
"I can't see into it, and the more I preponderate upon
it, the more I'm in a bewilderness.  How Mr. Paine can
make light of water is more than I can see,- I can't
throw no light on it. I know it'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-boiler, while Ike put
the experiment to a practical test by pouring a dipper of
water into the stove.
26




302      SMELLING VIRTUOUS. — THE PRESS.
JUDGING VIRTUE BY ITS SMIELL.
"IT 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 virtuous."  We had often heard of the peculiar odor of
goodness, that rises like frankincense amid an atmosphere 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-engine," said
Mrs. Partington; "but I don'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."








trall
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"In
l~~~~i{II/fiJ{ Iij~/i
MO X,  S E H U N T I N.




MOUSE-HUNTIN G.              303
0 IOUS E - HUNTING;
AN INCIDENT IN THE 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 stood there in the dark, like an old chrone,
whispering and gibbering to itself. Mrs. Partington relapsed 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 her 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 of 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 the nibble by the window, she arose
again upon her elbow, and cried " Shoo! Shoo! " energetically, 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 by tbs




304              MOIJSE-H ITNTING.
window.  " Shoo! " cried the old lady again, at tho
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 burned 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 the 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" was bootless, for the sound came again to
her wakeful ear. At this point her patience gave out,
and, conquering 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 ensconse himself. She looked under the bed, and under the old chest
of drawers, and under the washstand, and "shooed"
until she could "shoo " no more.
The reader's own imagination, if he has an imagination 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




xOUSE-HUNTING.                305
Mrs. P., and 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 4the mouse must have left the
room, she closed the door, deposited the light upon the
hearth, and again sought repose.  How gratefully a
warm bed feels, when exposure to the night air has
chilled us, as we crawl to its enfolding covert! 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 are rife, when, close by her chamber-door, outside 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 satisfaction to hear the nmouse 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 chamber-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. Ominous movement! It is said that when a woman wets her
26*




C06(;             MOUSE-HUNTING.
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 momeni
she heard him drop again fromi 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. P.
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 musipilar 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 violence; but for which the mouse might have long continued 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.




STAR-GAZING.                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-GAZING.
OUT beneath the starry heavings Mr. Slow took his
son, Abimelech, to point out to him- to read to him
from the broad page of nature - the wonders of
"The spaciousfurnishment on high,"
as he called it.
"All these'ere stars, my son," said Mr. S., pointing
up to the studded sky above them, "that you see up
there, stationary and unmovable, marchin' along in sublime grande'r, aud winking at the earth with their jolly
yeller eyes, like gold eagles, them are called Jixed
stars;' and" -
"But what's that, father?" said young Abimelech,
as a meteor, like a racer, darted across the southerly
sky.
Mr. Slow was prompt with his answer.
"That," said he, "I guess, is one of'em that's got
unjfixed."




808   MRS. PARTINGTON ON MOUNT VESUVIUS.
MIRS. P. ON MOUNT VESUVIUS.
o  there's been another rupture of
g >    Mount Vociferous'!"  said  Mrs.
Partington, as she put down 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
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 frictious 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'em, 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 annihilated, and imagination figured the city engines pouring
their subduing streams upon the flames of Vesuvius,
and " Hold on, seving!"  "Break her down, twelve!"
rising above the vain roarings of the smothering crater.




TfE  PIC-NIC.                      809
THE PIC-NIC:
A  GRAND  DOMESTIC  DRAMA,
IN MANY ACTS.
fn which are detailed the Fun and Drawbacks attending a Pleasure
Excursion in the town of Bozzleton.
PERSONS IN THIE DRAMA
Mr. HIomespun- Who has something to say to all, and about everybody.
Jemima Short - A sweet little country rose.
Mr. Blisby - A gentleman from the city.
Miss Przmrose - A refined lady of thirty-five, full of sentiment and some snuff.
Mr. Brindle - A bachelor of fifty-eight and a justice of the peace.
3Miss Pidin - A bird too tough for sentiment.
Auxiliaries, Horses, Pigeon Pie, 4-c., by the company.
The morn is bright in Bozzleton, and kindly beams the sun,
And spreads his choicest rays around as if he dreamt of fun;
The girls are up and wide awake, the lads are spruce and gay,
For a pic-nic party is arranged for this bright summer day.
AND won't we have a time of it?   Just see the bag
of dough-nuts that Jemima Short has thrown out of the
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 chinchilli a rod off.
Jemimna. -"I don't know -  I don't think much of it,
but folks tlls me it's becoming.  Miss Jeems, the milli
ner, got the pattern from  the city, and-    "




310                THIE PIfl-NIC.
How de do, Miss Short?  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's got the
romantic affection in his leg, and can't go nuther; but
Mima is gwine; she has had her hair in papers a whole
week to make her look pretty."
Jemima. -    Why, mother! how you do talk! But
here they come - 0, what a host of'em! How proud
Betsey Babb feels of her 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! fAnd there's Patty
Sprigg's city beau — 0, I would n't be her to be seen
with such a fright! "
The wagons packed with eatables go groaning o'er the road,
The long carts filled with girls and beaus show an 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'd think so to hear it.  Now the
cart settles down into a rut.  " Dear me," says Miss
Tibbs, "we shall all be upsot, tipsy turvy; do hold on
to me! " and then everybody thinks they must be held
on to; and everybody else is trying to hold on to somebody.  O, how frightened the city beauty is!  " 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! 0, you satan.
see 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.  I never was guilty of such indiscretion, I never was! "
Boys singing" There's fun in a country cart,
And life,.on a dusty road,
Where mirth warms every heart,
And pleasure finds abode *
The town may boast of its joys,
Its racket and its din,
But give a haunt away 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 are here thrown far aside,
And revelling in mirth's bright beam, how fleet the moments glid
Arm-in-arm under the shady trees they now wander,
picking posies or bright berries -and such fun!  Miss
Primrose smiles languidly a sort of sky-blue benignity
upon old Brindle, the bachelor.
Miss Primrose, (sentimentally.) — "How delightfully those pines sigh in the gentle breeze, like the soft
music of love in the ear of youth! "
Old Brindle. -" Yes'm, so it does."
Miss P. -" O, I do so love the pines! "
Old B. - " They're better in May, mum, when the
sliver is thick and creamy. Come out here then, martn




312                  THE  PIC-NIC.
out with your jack-knife, throw away your tobacco, cut
out a square, and sliver up the tree - allers sliver up,
marm - some slivers down. Then's when you'd like the
pines, mum."
Miss P. — " That's an entirely new aspect; I meant
their romantic beauty."
Old B. -  "Yes'm -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 Nachure. It's a great pity we can't have
any nachure 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-nuts2 "
Patty. -"  No, dear me, no; don't eat'em; they're
toadstools."
Thus we go on, chatting, walking,
Voices ringing with the pines,
Nothing our gay fancies balking,
Doing all our heart inclines.
Now on the green and beauteous sod the varied viands spread,
And appetite shall wait on health, and wit its influence shed;
The social tongue with music rife blends 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 fahre!  MIiss
Peewit shall I help you to a piece of tonlut:' N;




TILE PIC-NIC.                313
thank you, I have enough of my own.  But I'11 trouble
you for a piece of the chicken." - -" Chicken, did you
say? From his toughness I should say he was a grandfather to thousands! "
" Pass the pigeon yonder, will you? "
"' What, the old maid?"
"No, no, the pie."
"There's the plate - the pigeon is unavoidably detained."
Miss Pidgin. -" I'd thank people who use my
name to speak so that I can hear; I don't like to be
backbitten."
" We were speaking of pigeon pie, mem" — 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 are quite complimentary!
Comparing my nature with smoked hog! "
" Will Mr. Blisby, the gentleman from the city, favor
us with a song? Silence,'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."
Mir. Blisby sings:
" My love is fair, 0, she is fair!
Her lips are red, her eyes like sloe,
A golden glory is her hair,
Falling o'er shoulders white as snow
27




314                   TIE  PIC-NIC.
"And when her eyes upon me turn
And burn with radiance divine,
My arient gaze encounters hern,
The same as hern encounters mine."
Child, yelling. -  "Mother, give me a nuther pieth
ov pie!"
Mother.- -"Hush, my darling, there a'n't any."
Boy.-  "I thay there ith; I wanth a pieth ov pie! "
"0, such a mingling,
Of talking and jingling,
The noise and glee
Sound merrily,
And set our ears a tingling."
A dance! a dance! and gleefully a set is forthwith planned,
A fiddle most mysteriously has happened here at hand;
And here beneath the dark tree's shade, with leaves and berries crowned,
Each happy lad and laughing maid whirl in the dance around.
" Go it, my top sawyer on the pussy-gut! Work your
elbows lively, and we'11 put her through by daylight!"
" 0, dear! I'm all of a perspiration with sweat.  How
slippery it is under foot! "   " It a'n't slippery anywheres
else."   "I swow to man, there's Bill Nutter and Jemima
Short both down!  Up and try it again, clumsys!"
Iliiss Primrose. -" How these old woods echo with
the music, Mr. Brindle, like the Arcadian groves, with
the dulcet notes of the Satires! "
Mr. B. — " I never heerd of'em; I guess they never
was in these woods - they never was that I can remember."
"I declare, there's Mr. Blisby dancing like an anid




THE  PIC-NIC                    815
mated  bean-pole.  Ha! ha! ha! he's on all-fours
Now all he wants is a tail."
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 ara here to circumscribe our sport,
And Nature smiles approvingly, for here she holds her court
A lake romantic lying near 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 in
the world of its tipping over."-" 0, my! I've got my
shoe all satiated with water. I shall get my death a
cold." —" You've got your foot in it this time, that's a
fact."
Mr. Blisby. -  " Is there  any danger of sea-sickness?"' 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, I'd cut his
eternal - acquaintance, I would. I e'enamost 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."
uA Voice. -" Some love to roam
O'er the dark sea's foam,
Where the shrill winds whistle free."
"Well, they do.  Hallo! here's Jim  Sly.  What
have you got in that bottle, old fellow? Have n't seen
you to-day afore."




316                  TEIE'IC-NIC.
Jim Sly (drunk). — " I've got some c c-coughdrops to c-c-cure the sea-sickness with —a little rum
t-t-t-tea with s-s-somze sperrit in it to k-k-keep it."
Sally Twist, his sweetheart. -" You Jim  Sly, you
drunken, miserable fellow, you — you sot — you bruteyou individual - you - you - you Jim Sly" -
Jim. — " Go it S-S-Sal, and I'11 hold yer b-b-bonnet t
What yer goin' to d-d-do'bout it? "
Sally. -     You'11 see when we get home, you sotyou brute - you vagabone!"
Sam. -  " Let her lean, elderWine cures the gout, boys,
The colic, and the'
sea-sickness. Who cares for S-S- Sall."
" Can you tell me, Jemima, why Miss Pidgin yonder
is like forty-nine big apples 2 " —" No, I'm sure I can't,
unless it's'cause she's sour." —" No,'t a'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 flash 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!' O, what shall we do? where shall we go? what
will become of us?" screams everybody.  " Do, dear
Mr. Wiggin," says Miss Pidgin, " tell us what we shall
do? "
Mr. Wiggin. -  "Why,'t a'n't 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."




TIE  PIC-NIC.                317
"But don't the lightnin' always strike trees  "
"There's more danger from  your eyes, Jemima.
Lightnin's attracted by anything bright; you'd better
shut'em up."
Jemima. — " Your wit is n't bright enough to attract
it, any how, Mr. Impudence! 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'n't you afraid the thunder'll kill you? And where
would you go if you died a laughing? "
The rain 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 Pan is the
presiding genius of these woods, in my opinion he's a
dripping Pan."
Old Brindle-" Young man, I'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 toboo -hoo  hoo "
27*




318                 THE  PIC-NIC.
Jim. -  "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."
iMr.'. - "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 out with scorching ray,
Dispelling from the sky and heart all shapes of gloom away,
And laughter now bursts forth once more in cheerful, merry peal,
And " Home Again " is sung with glee as o'er the road we wheel.
"Are  you  all comfortable?  Sit close as possible.
HXere we go!  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. ]lisby, 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-cap, take your head
in doors. Urchins in corduroys, scatter. Young maiden
with the milking-pail, who are you looking at? "




AN EXCELLENT TEST OF AFFECTION.    319
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 entertain 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'll adjourn with the chorus -
Some seek for glee by the heaving sea,
Some rush on a railroad train,
But give us a part on a country cart,
And a pic-nic out in the rain! "
Exeunt Omnibus, R. U. E.
AN EXCELLENT TEST OF AFFECTION.
" THE summer is no time to try the strength of affection," 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
cretur 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 lady went to bed.




320        HIGH-DUTCH VS. POLITENESS.
HIGH-DUTCH vs. POLITENESS.
ptt',:       train  gone by here?"
asked Mrs. Partington of
a gentleman with a huge
mustache, who stood pick~ M~ |              ing his teeth on the steps
of the Revere House. The
old lady meant the Washington street omnibus that
runs between the Lowell
depot and Dover street.
The gentleman still picked
his teeth, and looked gravely at her, but said not a word.  " Has the Washington
street train passed by here?" she asked again, thinking
the gentleman had n't heard her. TIe still stood, and stood
still, and looked and picked, but said nothing.  "Well! 
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 some 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 a
great deal of anybody's time, nor interfered with anyaody's occupancy. If anybody has got focal organs I
should think they might use'em."




GOOD TASTE.                 321
"Nein ferstan," responded the man with the mustache, 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 speaking, was seen far in the distance.
GOOD TASTE.'I CAN'T bear children," said Miss Prim, disdainfully.
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
earth.' 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 ROGER MUCH EXCITED
OLD ROGER MUCH EXCITED.
M' RS. TIMMS," said 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.  "1Mrs. Timms, what
sort of a house do you keep?  What sort of a neighborhood 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, "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 young 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'll come next I can't guess.
I 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.




RARE DUN.                 828
RARE DUN.
ONE morning old Sledge got capsized out of his wherry,
halibut and all, at the Spring Market, in Pa* * *,
under the old dynastiness of that institution, and was
nearly drowned when they got him out. He was so near
death that the ones who caught him could n'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 rubbed
away vigorously at the inanimate Sledge, working as if
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 was Mrs. Twist, busily engaged in her benevolent
manipulations. He looked at her a moment, and consciousness returned.
" Ah! " said he, as he spit the salt water out of his
codlike mouth, "glad to see ye; 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 unthankfulest
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,
" here they come in their bear skins! "
"In their bare skins!" said Mrs. Partington, glancing- out of the window into the cold, towards the weathercock 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."
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 creaturs
should fall down, -he'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 DEWY.                 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 atmosphere 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 grass
that sturdily struggled against difficulty and managed to
grow 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




326        A SLI JHT MISAPPREHENSION
A SLIGHT MISAPPREHENSION.
"How do you like the bustle and confusion of Bos.
ton 2" asked the shop-keeper, as Mrs. Partington stoo(t
by the counter.
" It gives me confusion to see'em,"' said the old lady;
"folks did n'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."
" O," said Mrs. P., "that is quite another thing!"
and immediately left'the store.
THE 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 landlady, " 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 expose
her before all the boarders, and she thought the outrage
more than offset the tough meat.




?EPPERCASE REBUKED.              827
PEPPERCASE REBUKED.
"STOP your noise in there! " roared Mr. Peppercase,
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'11 knock your heads off!
I never saw such children in my life; always yelling and
fighting."
"I declare, that's queer!" 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 woul,
be as gentle as doves. Some fathers are like the frightful porcupine, and of course their children will be
fractious; -as the old hog squeals the young ones learn,
you know."
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.




328          A REMEMBERED MISTAKE.
A REMEM3IBERED MISTAKE.
" IT is all very true, Mr. Knickerbottom," said  irs.
Partington, as she read in the Knickerbocker something concerning brevity and simplicity of expression;
" it's true, 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 energetically, 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," said old Roger, in
his lecture over the bread pudding; and he peered intently 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.




MRS. PARTINGTON AND JENNY LIND.    329
MIRS. PARTINGTON AND JENNY LIND.
"I NEVER liked the Swedenvirgins," said Mrs. Partington. She was orthodox, and always sat in the Asylum pew in the north-east corner 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 never liked the Swedenvirgins; but
I a'n't one that believes nothing good can come out of
Lazarus, for all that. Now, there'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's 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 bead 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*




3303         TIIE USE OF THE AZTECS.
THE USE OF THE AZTECS.
"WE are fearfully and wonderfully made! " said 1Mrs.
Partington, after she had stood for a long time contemplating the Aztec children. Her hands were resting
upon the back 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 black 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 purpose for curiosities, and nothing but Providence could
make anything more so, unless Mr. Barnum should try.
Human natur never come done up in so queer a wrapper
before. They say they are distended from the Haystacks 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 IYSTERY OF THE BRAZEN NOSE;
OR, THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE.
CHAPTER I
THE HERO OF TIlE STORY.
IGHT closed around'7,       ~,-j          ~ Wcourt. Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit,
who  had  been'5  watching its apt  proach for an hour,
from a neighboring:i~'y.... dar  and   glass, turned his
horse's head toEar'd,~,~         ~__ 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. He sought his tent. His
brow was dark and gloomy, as could be plainly seen
through his iron helmet; and an unevenness of gait, as
he strode along, betrayed great agitation of the nervous
system.
"Walter de Coursey Stubbs," said he, hoarsely, to his
squire in attendance, "1hang up my horse, and give my




332    THE BIYSTERY OF THE BRAZEN NOSE.
casque some oats and water.  And, hark ye! disturb me
not until the Connecticut wooden horologe in the vestibule striketh the hour of seving. 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 nap. But
his sleep was troubled. Anon he started, and shouted,
" St. Dennis for France! give'em 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
whetting his jackknife on a brick in the entry, and indulging 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 heard 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 intently upon the sleeper, and then, in




TIlE MYSTERY OF THIE BRAZEN NOSL.    333
a suppressed voice, of great anguish, sighed out, "_ Ah!
oh! um!" and sank into a seat, like a cooking-stove,
His face could not be seen, but there was a dignity about
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 ninepence to admit him to the tent, on
the plea of " special business."
His armor was of complete black, with no distinguishing 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 ope pocket, and a card
from another, he wrote a few hurried lines; when, whispering 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 attendant, " 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 pleasantry.
The light in the lantern disappeared, as Sir Hildebrand
Hellytisplit awoke, and, starting upon his elbow, he cried
aloud, " What, ho! without there 3 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.
" IKeep 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 MYSTERX OF THE BRAZEN NOSL
CHAPTER III.
THE GAME IS UP!
SCARCELY had the wooden clock done stiking the hour
of seven, the next morning, when Walter de Coursey
Stubbs stood by his master's side to awake him from his
slumbers, which he accomplished by pulling one of the
chairs from beneath him.  Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit
wiped his eyes with his hand, and combed his hair with
his fingers, and then,; as was his wont, commenced pommelling 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. IHe
read" Perfigis retch: - your our is cum.... ete me tomorrar outside the Inglish lines, and Ile giv yu Jessy.
Yours respectively,                      NOSEY."
Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit drank his coffee in silence;
after which, arming himself with two spears, a battleaxe, a sword, mace and shield, besides filling his 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 Nase




THE MYSTERY OF THE BRAZEN NOSE.    835
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 Hildebrand had " too many irons in the fire,;'
and he could n't "' come in" well. One blow from the
powerful arm of lim of the Nose, and the head of Sir
Hildebrand Hellytisplit, like an iron pot, rolled at the
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;'t is better to forgive a little,
if they lose a shilling on the pound. Farewell." Saying 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 friends, by telegraph, that they had better
come on and look after his effect%, as ne was n't exactly
in a condition to do it for himself. A Flemish Jew bought
Sir Hildebrand Hellytisplit's wardrobe, after a few keepsakes had been taken by friends, for about the price of
old iron.




8336          GOING TO CALIFORNIA.
GOING TO CALIFORNIA.
"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
his wife and seven children and a blessed old mother-inlaw, 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, simmering by the winter fire. She was somewhat fond of
drink made in this way.




A TOUGH CUSTOMER               837
A TOUGH CUSTOMER.': WILL you help me to a piece of chicken  " asker
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 dissecting a large fowl.
"Chicken!" muttered he;  "do you call this a
chicken? Why, it has been the father of thousands,
miss."
He had n't a very thankful spirit that day, and the
older boarders,with bad teeth, joined with him in questioning 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 the
rest of the furniture. She answered him " No! " as
sharp as vinegar.
" O," said he, coolly buttoning up his coat, " I supposed you were, for the advertisement reads that the
house is to be sold with all the impertinences thereto
belonging."
He very cruelly laughed at the indigant look she
gave him, and stepped out.
29




838            FUNERAL OBSTACLES.
FUNERAL OBSTACLES.
c How solemn these funeral obstacles is! " said MIrs.
Partington, as she looked down from an upper chamber
window, on the day of a mock 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," quoth she, " with the
soldiers all playing with muzzled drums, and their flags
flying at half-mast. Is that the catastrophe 3" whispered she of a gentleman near her.
" That is the catafalque, madam," replied he.
" "Well, well," said she, " no matter; I knowed there
was a cat about it, and I did n't know but it might be a
cataplasm.  Will you tell me when the artillery flies
over, that come on here to tend the funeral 3 "
"Good gracious, madam!" cried he testily, "they
don't fly. They are artillery men on horseback, merely."
"Dear me! " 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.
"What a pity it is,". said she, " that we don't vally
people till arter they are dead; but then what paragorics
we pour upon them! "




EXCELLENT ADVICE.             339
She here paused; a silence pervaded the chamber; the
procession had passed, the company had departed, and
two hours after the old lady was found still sitting by
the open window fast asleep. So powerful is grief!
EXCELLENT ADVICE.
"NEVER get in debt, Isaac," said Mrs. Partington;
and she raised her tea-spoon with an oracular air, and
neld 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 tangible.  "Never 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, and owe for it. Think of our
neighbor; what a failing 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, starvation, and shushon tea, and he in Californy! "
" Some tea, please," 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.
TIMIELY  R EFLECTION.
"DEAR me! " exclaimed Mrs. Partington; and her
hands were raised above a basket of potatoes, in a provision 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 rotting.  " O, dear me! " said she, " if the potatoes is all
rotting, what upon airth will poor people do for bread 3
What will the poor Paddygonians do that don't eat nothing else 3 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!
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!"  It was touching! Everything
was sixteen ounces to the pound with him for that
day.




PREPARING T) SEE THE PRESIDENT.        241
PREPARING TO SEE THE PRESIDENT.
gie      OTHER wants to know
if you'll  lend her a
little  merlatsses  to
starch a cap, to go and
see  the President."
said a little girl, coming into
Mrs. Partington's kitchen, bearing 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
em.  Sich man-worship! sich man-worship!"
" The President's coming, aunt! " said Ike, bursting
in; " and he is going iy our door;" and the little fellow
was half crazy with delight, and threw his Pap in a pan
of milk upon the table in his enthusiasm.
"How do I look, Isaac?" said the dame, wit qnima
29*




342            A CHURCH INCIDENT.
tion; "' is my hair combed, and my handkerchief digested
right on my neck, and my cap border even? " and she
took her place by the window, when these questions were
answered, as eager as any one to " see the President,'"
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 CIIURCH 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?"
"0, 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-GOOD LESSON.             843
A DRY-GOOD LESSON.
"HAVE you any stout, dark marines " said Mrs.
Partington to the shopkeeper.  lie 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," 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 maln, it was only a slip of the
tongue; and if you never make a greater slip in measuring 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 perturbed fancy alone made them terrible.  She made the
purchase she intended, and in measure it proved full half'
a quarter over what she had bargained for.




344    A GLANCE AT POVERTY. - SLANDERERS.
A GLANCE AT POVERTY.
" IT must be very inconvenient to be poor;" said Mrs.
Partington, as she glanced with honest pride at her highbacked chairs and old-fashioned chest of drawers, and
continued her eye on to the open cupboard in the corner. " 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 MIrs. Partington as in Henry Clay.
SLANDERERS.' IF there is anybody under the canister of heaven
that I have in utter excrescence," said Mrs. Partington,
"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 Be6lzebub 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, and took some
demulcent drops.




A STORMY oEASON.              345
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 extinguished her light, and slammed 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 nightjacket, as it hung airing on the chair by the fire, and
flirted with her cap-border, as she looked out upon the
night. It was a saucy gust.  " How it blows!" said
she, as she shut down the window.  " I hope Heaven
will keep the poor sailors safe that go down on the sea
in vessels! This must be the obnoxious storm," continued 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
house most dismally, and yelled wildly down the old
chimney.




846           DIETETICAL COUNSEL.
DIETETICAL COUNSEL.'You must n't be too greedy, Isaac," said Mrs. Partington, as, with an anxious expression, she marked a
strong effort that young gentleman was making to achieve
the last 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 jellyflower? "
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, unheeding 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 PARTINGTON CONFERS WITH PAUL.  847
AIRS. P. CONFERS WITH PAUL.' AND do you believe in the spirituous knockings? "
dLioed 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! "
A gentle rapping upon the old chest in the corner
attracted their attention, and the whole of them immediately surrounded it.
"If it's Paul's apprehension," said Mrs. Partington,
" I know he'11 answer me. Paul, is that you 3 "
Knock.
"Just like him," said she, smiling, "when he was
living; he was always tapping when we had anything in
the house to tap, did n't you, Paul. "
Knock.
"Can't you speak to me2 "
Knock.
" Does that mean yes or no';'
Knock.
" Which does it mean. "
Knock.
Some of the party suggested that the alphabet should
be called, which was done.
" Are you in want of anything 3 " said she.
Knock.' What is it 3 "




348   MRS. 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 3"
The answer came back,'No, I'm  in better company!"
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, protruding, 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'll
never' be a good spirit 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, and 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. PART1NGTON AT THE PLAY.        349
MRS. PARTINGTON AT THE PLAY.
"THE play-house is the' way to the pit!' " said Mrs.
Partington, solemnly, and pointing significantly downward.
"But," remonstrated a friend, who had asked her to
visit 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 contricious for what she had done, I should like to know 3 I
think it shows a bad temper in him; and the dear children, 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 would n'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




850   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'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 needlefull.
A QUEER CONCEIT.
"WHY don't they make these tragedies turn out dlfferent? " 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 tsfat they're ali-ve. This, now, was
too savage; and when Mr. Virginius got the other gentleman 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.




MRS. PARTINGTON ON COLPORTERS.       351
MRS. PARTINGTON ON COLPORTERS.
c" So, they've took our minister and made a coal<
porter of him," said Mrs. Partington 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 C' hewing of wood, and drawing of water,"
and coal-portering; but dropped the search on a summons 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."




352              FOURTH OF JULY.
FOURTH OF JULY.,,0tl~l l  aISAAC" said Mrs. Part..
~i i?,   ington, rapping on the
window, as she saw the
s boy in the act of putting
half a bunch of crackers
into the pocket of a countryman who stood viewing 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? Is this all your idees of liberty and
regeneration, that you must fill that poor man's pockets
with your crackers? 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 to be! -so wild, so rakeless and
tricky" - (crack!) - " what's that?  I should like to
know who fired that. It was a great piece of impudence" -  (crack!) -- "goodness gracious! somebody




SEEING THE FIREWORKS.           353
must be throwin''em into the windows." She ran to
look out. Not a soul was near that could have done i&.
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 momnt she mistrusted him; but he couldn't have done it,
ne was so quiet, and she shut the window that opened
upon the street, to prevent their throwing in any more.
SEEING THE FIREWORKS.
"' O DEAR! " said Mrs. Partington, stretching herself 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.
I" 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.; "now look and see if the burning
lather runs down the hill this way! "
And the old lady looked anxiously toward the Park.
30*




854   MRS. PARTINGTON AND THE TELEGRAPM,
THE TELEGRAPH.
MRS. PARTINGTON 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'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, heayen'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 discussion 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.








:L,.,'~?'i~',~,,,!~,"'~    ~'   I~.  ~  ~...
z~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~




A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS.           355
A STORY FOR CtHRISTMAS.
IT was with a clouded brow and an angry eye that
young Frank IIarlowe 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. IIis passion once aroused, reason,
affection, common kindness were 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 provocation.  Correction they never received. It was the
vindictive visitation of an avenger of wrong rather than
the chastisement of a parent.
At heart Mr. Hiarlowe 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 repentance the evil he had done, of which he was fully
sensible.  Benevolent, intelligent, noble-spirited, selfsacrificing, as occasion called for action, he had won
himself a name for probity and usefulness that was




856         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, intelligent and witty, at seventeen he was the favorite of all
in the village in which he lived. Ihis 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 artlessnessbeamed for him with constant and kindly glow.
Such was Frank Harlowe in his social intercourse,
petted and happy in the 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 plodding 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 tne reproof
came to curb his ambition. Home was no longer home
to him; the ties of consanguinity were to him iron bonds
from whose release he would pray to be freed; his mother'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 her obnoxious to censure, and her fame having reached his father,
the knowledge of Frank's attachment for her had provoked 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 he
gave, and he left the room with an expression of bitter
rage.
The next morning there was confusion in Mr. Harlowe'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 it 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. Remember sometimes your poor boy,         FRANIK."
The letter fell like a thunderbolt upon that household,
so unprepared for such an event, and deep contrition
wrung the erring father's heart, who saw too late the
evil he had wrought. The spirited boy had been his
favorite, so like him was he in form and mind. He remem-.ecred that no word spoken to him in kindness had
been unheeded. He 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 caused. Then, for the
first time, he felt the weight of the responsibility that
rested upon him as a parent, and trembled as he r,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 af
youth, for years had passed and no line of remembra-ze




A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS.           359
had come from the absent boy. The brothers had mar.
ried, and had children, and the old homestead was glad
with the music of childish laughter, and a sad happiness
smiled upon the lives of Mr. and Mrs. iarlowe. 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, or 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 whom 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 excitement, 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 grandson. 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 brazen 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 freedom for such an intruder, at such a time. The timid
shrunk at the sound, as from a boding of evil, and anxiety 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 firelight.
" 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 famished con



A STORY FOR CIIRISTMAS.          361
dition; and a glance at her apparel confirmed the impression 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.
As soon as her hunger was appeased, she turned to
depart, but the voice of Mr. iarlowe asked her to remain, and, in sympathetic tones, reminded her of the
inclemency of the night.
The woman expressed her thanks gracefully, and seated
herself by the fireside. 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 1
have learned strange arts in my wanderings.  The
heavens are open to my gaze, and the stars, where the
mysteries of fate are hid, are as the printed page.  The
human palm 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 manythat 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 mnany a
tear was shed at the recollection of some old grief revealed by the power of that singular woman.
At length Mr. iarlowe presented his hand for examination. 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 bitterness and woe, and the whole of its deep course is marked
by traces of grief. Tears, tears are here, and the lines
of penitence 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
i.f and subdued. Is it not so  "
She fixed her eyes suddenly upon Mr. Harlowe's face.
It was pallid 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, 0, 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. iarlowe wept in sympathy with her husband, whose deep grief she had thus
discovered, which had long been concealed beneath the
calm exterior of philosophical resignation.' Woman! " he cried at last, " what is the future of
this picture 2 Is there no balm in store for my wounded
spirit 3" 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 splendor, 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 company in the noble form —matured in manly strength
and beauty - of Frank Harlowe.
There was a new joy in the house 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 mother'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 far-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 como
back to revisit the home 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




864          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 Harlowe, 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 up by attention to his parents for the
long years he had failed in his duty to them.
Mr. iarlowe 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. PI. AMONG THE ANIMALS.:  ou call this a carryvan,
don't you " said Mrs.
to  know there  the
silks and other costive,things  are that mew
read of, which the carryvans carry;j~il,      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 breadstuffs and flour are so awful dear
most always after they arrive!" and the old lady left
soon after, full of new light, and zdamiratilon for the
monkeys.
31*




366           A LEAF FROM MEMORY.
A LEAF FRO}IM MIEMIORY.
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. "H Low
different from my poor Paul! for he never would leave
till the' drop' was secured to him.  Dear, dear! 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'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'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.
"WHEN will distention and strife cease among our
foreign relations 3" 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 3  The peace congress did n't do no
good's I see, for the Rushins and Austriches are a
carryin' on jest as bad as ever they did, committin' all
sorts of outridges and wrongs on the Hung'ry. Heaven
never smiles on them  that distresses the poor. We
ought to hold the Rushers add all that belongs to'em
in excrescence,  I don't know about hating the Rushy
Salve, though, because that ha'n't done us no harm, —
and the Austriches, too, that lives on nails and gimblets,
that the wild-beast man told us about — the onnateral
heathen! Then the Frenchmen are all in a commotion,
and I should think they would be, eatin' frogs and sich
things, and the English ministers are quarrelin' like'dog's delight.'  Where it will end I can't see."'
She laid down the Times as she said "II 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 equally
in the dark.




868               HOME MISSIONS.
HOME MISSIONS.
" So Mrs. Brattle has become a member of the HIome
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 children, and mend his own clothes, as poor Brattle has had
to wlile 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't see that Ike was making tremendous havoc with the pound-cake.
IT is astonishing what opposite effects will be produced
by the same cause. As, for instance, suppose a blacking, 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.        8q 3
OLD ROGER AND THE BOARDERS.
OLD ROGER attempted the following upon the boarders 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 landlady's body, to her face, for she felt hurt. The boarders
all said they did n't know, - they could n't see the least
resemblance.
"'Why," said he, chuckling, "it is because he inwardly feels a gnaw."
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 propitiate 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.




870      BAD TEMPERS. -GIVING THANKS.
BAD TEM PERS.
"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 comforts 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
barefooted boy, she went cautiously among the muscles




A GOOD DEAL OF TSUTH.             871
A GOOD DEAL OF TRUTH.
"POOR Girls' 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'em, — fare hard with them that should treat'em
better, trying to rise till all their risible powers is gone,
and they are shipracked and cast away and driv to making trowsis 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 maccaboy,
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 the,
" poor girls " looked out at her from the teapot and the
sugar-bowl, the lamp, and the little scrap-box on the
work-table.  Bless her kind heart!
THERE is a wide difference between the throes ef an
expiring Titan and the throws of a straggling tight un.




372     POLITICAL EXTRAVAGANCE REBUKED.
POLITICAL EXTRAVAGANCE REBUK ED.
"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'em a mite.
Here they are now, going to canvassing the state, as if
the airth was n't good enough for'em lto 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 dust in 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 succession, to aid her deliberations.




SLYE'P-PD[- T N rTJ  31873
S L E I GH - RIDING.
the last pavingstone hides
itself beneath the descending snow, the jingle of the
bells informs us that sleighin,'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 sounding 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; we gladly
32




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 used to be great sport to us in sleighing,
though we never were sanguinary; but time has tempered 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.  Hi-yah! hi-yah! hi-yah! -how we
dashed on our course, leaving house and tree and milestone 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
cheek 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. Hi-yah! hi-yah! hi-yah! we




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 thmeir 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. Partington 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 are 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                    SLEIGH-RIDING.
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 stars to-night,
And 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 is here, gay Mirth is here,
Our hearts to cheer, our hearts to chew ~
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's freedom rare
Abroad in the air,
Everywhere,
Above and below.




IHUNKI FOR 1*E UNION.           37T
HIUNK FOR THE UNION.
" TIIE 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 provision of natur that eggs should be " skeerce " when they
are so dear.
32*




878    LEAS FROM PHILANTHROPOS' JOURNAL.
LEAF  FROMI PIHILANTHROPOS' 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 single spies, but in battalions. Seven beggar boys in succession for cold victuals.  Strange that they should be so
anxious to have it coltd. It shows a corrupt taste. Probably 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-sounding name! Think I've heard it before.
Horrible volcano in Italy.  Swallowed up his vineyard,
and threw him and a large family upon the world. Heaven 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. 3I.- Dressed 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 postoffice. Sorry I had n't the precise amount, but gave him




TRXIININ( DAYS.              379
a dime. Was surprised to see him go into a drinkinghouse. 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 beggars, and refused.
The urchin called me a most scandalous name, and followed 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 Honorables passed her 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 declare, 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 portlylooking gentleman under a cocked hat waved his hand to
her as the pageant swept from her view. Mrs. Partington resumed her knitting, that had been disturbed by tho
music.




380     LIFE - LIFE - HOW CURIOUS IT IS.
LIFEFE-IFE —HOW CURIOUS IT IS.
" CURIOUS"  is the word - we would n'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, illumined with stars and garnished with moonshine! How
curious it is, when matrimony crowns the wishes, and
cares, fancied to be surmounted by ardent hearts, are
found to be but just commenced! How curious it is! says
the young mother, as she spreads upon hers the tiny
hand of her babe, and endeavors to 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 last 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 longer look at time and its frivolities, with eternity and its
joys within their reach! How curious it is, when at last




AN INTERESTING FACT.           381
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 I 
AN INTERESTING FACT.
DR. DIGG and Old Roger were conversing upon wonders 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 elephant, the ichneumon, and Oxford County bear, being
particularly mentioned for their sagacity. With regard
to the last-named description of animals, he relied principally 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 conversation, 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 refinement of human civilization, and surpassing that of all
other animals.




382                NEW PATENTS.
Roger admitted the truth in the main of what the
doctor submitted, but said that however much he was disposed to yield to Fitzwhistler and the doctor in most
matters, in this one particular of superiority he must
differ 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 greatness of mind so characteristic 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 governed." 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 neighborhoods, where the quality of the railing has long needed
improvement.




BRIEF ANSWERS.               883
BRIEF ANSWERS.
IT is a terrible affliction to fall into the hands of one
who either cannot or will not answer a question directly
- who will either evade a direct answer, or, by an everlasting prolixity in replying, render his information useless. The question you ask, like the eye of the " ancient
mariner," holds you fast, and you cannot escape until, as
the reviewers say, you "I arrive at the end of the volume."
For instance, Mr. Walker is out in the country and going 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 hesitating 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'd be a little further; or you can
take the road straight ahead, and get over the wall and
cut across, only there'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 the path
that leads through the woods - this is the furtherest way,
but the galls allers 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,
and you'll get there in half an hour."




384                  ORGANS.
ORGANS.
"A QUIET tone is observable in the Russian organs!"
said Mrs. Partington, as the line in the telegraph news
arrested her eye.  She mused upon it a moment.
" Clhurch 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'll 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 that the old lady
was just doing up.