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” Wl(E5iluige’siEiitrlarii iltisiihxl I
THE TOAST.
nir wnrxrnn. sco'r'r.
Tun feast is o’er! Now brimming wine
In lordly cup is seen to shine
Before each eager guest,
And silence fills the crowded hall,
As deep as when the herald’s call
Thrills in the royal breast.
Then up arose the noble host,
And smiling cried, “ A toast! a toast!
To all our lsdyes fair.
Ilere, before all, I pledge the name
Of Stsunton‘s proud and heauteous dame-
The Ladye Gundunere!"
Then to his feet each gallant sprung,
And Joyous was the shout that rung,
As Stanley gave the word:
And every cup was raised on high
Nor ceased the loud and glndsome cry,
Till Staniey’s voice was heard.
“ Enough, enough,” he smiling said,
On long summer afternoons, Aunt Deb-
bie’s old red farm-house, with its low porch
and latticed windows nearly hidden by
morning-glories and scarlet-runners, was
the general resort of all of us; and the
merry jest, light laugh, and song might
have been heard from beneath the monster
willow, that spread its wide arms in such
luxuriance over a goodlyportion of the
yard, and, sweeping the ground, formed a
perfect arbor, impervious to the rays of the
sun.
And when the long winter evenings
came, the great old kitchen was the scene
of many a wild frolic and merry game.
On this particular evening, we had gath-
ered in to hear Aunt Debbie's recital of
her visit to the far-famed city of Gotham.
VVe had hardly given the good old soul
And lowly bent his haughty head,
“ That all may have their due,
Now each in turn must play his part,
And pledge the ladye of his heart,
Like gallant knight and true 1"
Then one by one each guest sprung up
And drained in turn the brimming cup,
And named the loved one's name;
And each, as hand on high he raised,
His lndye’s grace or beauty praised,
Her constancy and fame.
’l‘is now St. Leon’s turn to rise;
on him were fixed those countless eyes-
A gallant knight was he;
Envied by some, admired by all,
Far-fumed in iedye’s bower, and ball,
The flower of chivalry.
St. Leon mm his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high:
“ I drink to am," he said,
“ Whose image never may depart,
Deep graven on this grateful heart,
time to get herself rested, after the fatigue
of bcr joumey, ere we were down upon
her with numbcrless questions, as to how
she had been, what she had seen, &c., Sac.
“Now, Aunt Debbie, do tell us all about
it,” said the old lady's favorite, Hattie Ma-
son. “ Tell us of your journey, what you
saw at the Crystal Palace, and everything
else worth telling.”
“ “Tell,” said Aunt Debbie, laughing, her
own mellow laugh, “ I may as well tell you
iirst as last, for you won‘t give me any
peace till I dew, I expect; but before I be-
gin, some of you run into the cellar, and
get some of them ere red apples, in the fur-
ther bin. They have got. to be proper good
by this time; and take that mug on the
dresser and get some cider, tew.”
Till memory be dead.
To one whose love for me shall lust
When lighter passions long have passed,
So holy ltis and true;
To one whose love hath longer dwelt,
More deeply iixed, more keenly felt,
Than any pledged by you."
Each guest upstarted at the word,
And laid a hand upon his sword,
With fury-dashing eye;
And Stanley said: “ We crave the name,
Proud knight, of this most peerless dame,
Whose love you count so high.”
St. Leon paused, as if he would
Not hrathe her name in careless mood
Thus lightly to mother;
Then bent his noble head, as though
To give that word the reverence due,
And gently said, “ My Mother!"
[Written for Dodge‘: Literary nnmmq
AUN '1' DEBBIIEPS VISIT TO
NEW YORK.
BY‘ THE LITTLE COUSIN.
C‘ ELCOME home! Aunt Debbie,"
was the exclamation of some half
dozen wild girls, as they broke tumultuous-
ly into her snug, warm kitchen, where the
old lady sat quietly knitting by the fire.
Aunt Debbie, as she was universally
styled by young and old, belonged to that
All were ready to do her bidding; and
when the apples and cider were brought
and placed-upon the brick hearth before the
tire, (for be it known Aunt Debbie eschew-
cd stoves as nnecessary evils,) and we
girls had joined a circle, with Aunt Debbie
herself filling her capacious rocking-chair
with her portly iigure, I am sure you will
agree with me that we could not have been
less than well content, not to say happy.
“ Now, gals, you must all go to knitting,
while I talk," said Auntie.
The knitting was forthwith produced.
We always came armed with it when we
visited Aunt Debbie, all but I-Iattie, who
declared that she dared not bring hers,
because she always lost her needles or ball,
or else dropped stitches, by becoming too
much interested in Auntic’s stories. lVc
all laughed at Hattie‘s reason for her care-
lessness; but she, nothing heediug, ex-
claimed,
“ Now for the shot-y,‘Auntic.”
“ It an’t much of a story,” said the old
lady; and after stopping to count the stitch-
es across the instep needle, and adjusting
her spectacles, not forgetting to moisten her
lips from the mug before her, she at last
commenced.
much-abused portion of the human family
denominated “old maids; " not the cross,
crabbed, withered specimens we “ read of,"
hi“ 5“. fair-and, though well on in years,
he? I103?‘ Was as warm and fresh in feeling
as was that ofthe youngest of us girls,
Whose confidant she was in all our heartac-
crets and petty ti-1,1,,
A-I fill‘ back as memory reaches, Aunt
Debbie had lived in our neighborhood.
Through childhood, and youth, and now,
when she had fallen into the “ sere and yel-
“Well, I suppose you all thought it was
passing strange that an old woman like me
should take such a start; but I'd heard tell
so much about the city of New York, not
to say anything about the Christmas Palace.
(Aunt Debbie meant Crystal l’;ll:u-e,) that
I thought I'd go and see for myself--and as
I've a sort of a cousin living there, I
thought I'd ‘ kill two birds with one stone,’
and go and see him and the city tew.
“ I was terrible oncasy all the way there,
for fear them crc pesky cars would run oil"
low leaf," she was still found in the old
homestead, a sort of chronicle of all mo.
mentous events, and of the ages of all the
children born in the village. Always a. fa-
vorite, especially of the younger portion of
the community, she was seldom alone.
the track ; but howsomever they didn’t, for
a wonder, though a youngster that sot just
before me, said that they always made it a
pint to run oil‘ once a. (lay, sartain, for fear
folks would be disappointed. I guess he
wan’t in earnest, though.
“ ‘Veil, I got there safe, but most awful
tired, and dusty, tew. lVhen I first got out
of the cars, I was aetilly frightened. There
was such a. shouting and bawling out of the
names of houses, and sich, that I thought
there must be a. dre somewhere‘, and so I
axed a little boy where it was-and he said
that he guessed the harbor was gone for it.
Did you ever hear of such imperence ?
Jest as cf he could make me believe that!
ButI didn’t have a. chance to scold him,
for a couple of men, (and one of ’em a nig-
ger, tew,) came up to me, and one says,
‘ Carriage for the Irving House, ma’am? ‘
and the other says, ‘ Carriage for the N -
tional, ma'am? ’ and they kept pulling me
about, first one way and then the other, till
I didn't rightly know whether I was on my
head or my heels.
“ I don’t know what I should have done,
but just then a gentleman came along, and
I expect he thought I was a. poor lone
woman, for up he steps, and says be, ‘I'll
take care of this lady; ’ and upon that they
let go of me, and went to waylay somebody
else. It was some time before I could tell
the gentleman where I wanted to go, I was
so completely dustered by their ill manners.
You see I'd been very careful to remember
the name of the street my cousin lived on,
and the number of the house, so I could go
straight there.
“ “Well, he went with me to my cousin‘s,
and they acted proper glad to see me.
This was a Monday, een-a-most night, and
I was so tired that I was right glad to go to
bed, though I didn’t sleep much till toward
momin’, ’cause they kept up such a contin-
al racket in the street a’most all night, and
cousin said it was a. quiet street, tew. I
wondered what the rest of ’em was, if that
was quiet. Lorl ’twas worse than trainin’
(lay; that wouldn't be a priming tew it.
“ ll'ell, Tuesday morning I was up bright
and early; got all dressed up in my black
alapacca, and went. down stairs, and as sure
as you live, there wasn't a soul stirring, as I
could see, not even the hired help, and
there it was after sunrise, tew. I set my-
self down by a winder, thinking to pass
away the time till breakfast, looking out in-
to the street; but I soon get tired of that,
so I looked around for a. book. There was
plenty on ’em, such as they was, but they
warn’t lit for a sensible lady to read. I
reckon they was more forlshow, than use;
’tan’t the fashion, I guess, to read anything
but nonsense. Newspapers, and sich like,
ar’n’t allowed in the spare room, they make
sich a litter; so I had tew sit down ag’in and
dew nothin’, though I had a. great mind tew
go up stairs and git my knittin’-and I
should, but I was afraid it’ I knit mornin’s,
I should be out of work before I got ready
tew come home.
“ ‘Veil, by and by the folks begun tew
stir round considerable, in doors and out,
and after we'd had our breakfast-mons-
trously late one, tew, I thought, though
they said ’twarn’t later than common-cous-
in took me out tew see the sights. I walk-
ed and walked, till I thought I should drop,
and I didn’t see anything, either, only sights
0’ houses, and folks, and carts, and horses,
and carriages. Tew be sure, some of ’em
was very line ', but arter all, they waru’t
nothin’ wonderful. I come pretty near
bein' run over, though, for I stepped in the
middle of the road, (streets, they call ’em,)
nigh upon a crossin’, tew give a poor lame
man, who was tcllin’ everybody a dreadful
pitiful story,n. tun-cent piece; and just then
a pair of horses came tearing along like
mad. and cousin just made out tew drag me
1
out of the way, and that was all-and would
you believe it? the chap I had pitied so,
and given a. (lime, straightened up and
traveled off as well, and better, than I
could. I was so provoked tew think that
he’d cheated me out of that dime-not that
I valued the money, for if he'd been as bad
oil‘ as he purtcnded, I shouldn't grudged
him twice as much-but it was so pesky
mean in him.
“I can't tell you, or begin tew, all that I
seed and did in them three days that I was
there; but I'll tell you some of the things I
did see at the Christmas Palace."
“ Crystal Palace, Auntie," interposed
Hattie.
“ lVcll, Crystal Palace, then, if that suits
you any better. It is perfectly immaticular
to me. It is all one; Christmas or Crystal.
‘V9 went one forenoon, and, O, mercy mel
what sights of folks ! I thought there was a
crowd down tew the center, the time the car-
avan (the old lady gave the second syllable
the accent,) was; but my sakesl they
couldn't hold a candle to the folks in tho
Christ-Crystal Palace, I mean. It was all
so hurly-burly tew me for a while afl.crI
got in, that I didn’t see nothin’ nor nobody,
for ever so long.
“ After I got a little used tew it, I began
tew look around, and een-a-most the first
thing I took a realizing sense on, was a has-
kct full of little bits 0’ boys, that cousin
called so many Cupids, all cut out of stun,
the cunnin‘est little crectnrs you ever see.
I raly wanted ’em, and asked cousin tow
price ’em for me, for if they warn’t more’n
fifty cents, I'd took ‘em; but he said they
waru’t for sale, so there was no more tew be
said, though I should ha’ thought they'd
been sort o’ glad tew get rid of some of
them curiosities. I learned artcrwards,
though, that them boys was vallied at
more’n two thousand dollars. Only think
of it ! two thousand dollars for stun chil-
dren!
“ You’vc all read Gulliver’s Travels.
lllcll, they had him there, with all the little
men that the book tells about crawling over
him, all (lid in wax, as natural as life. I
wanted tew get hold on ’em, but I couldn't,
for it was all shut up in a glass case, so as
tew keep folks from handling ’em, I expect.
I saw heaps on heaps of dry goods-speci-
mens, they called ‘em-from everywhere.
“ Then there was a place that cousin
called a gallery, all hung round with picters,
but I didn't spend much time looking at
them, for I didn’t think there was much
sense in ‘cm. They ‘most all of ‘em had
such long, hard names, that I didn’t try tew
read ’em. There was some glass cases full
of ready-made clothes for children, mighty
nice, tew be sure, tew look at, but tew my
mind, they'd looked altogether better if
t.hey’d been lengthened out both ways. I
saw a lot. of poor little creeturs in thc Pal-
ace dressed up the same way, and I raly
did pity ’em, their dear little legs bare, and
sticking down into the weather. It's a
wonder that they don't all die of the croup.
Well, I suppose fashionable folks like ’em
so, and everybody tew their notion.
“ Then I saw a tea-set, they called it, all
of gold, and another of silver, and anathe-
of hair; but tew tell the truth, I'd a great
deal rather had the wuth of ’em in solid
Speftiev than all the tea-sets they could rakc
up. Well, by this time I was gettin' pretty
well tired out, but cousin said that I mustn't
think of going home till I'd seen the statua-
ry. I couldn't well make out what he
meant by slatuary,but I supposed he meant
some furrin giucral or ’uother ; so I didn’t