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Vy
. leenadidee tier
Mica tianort te ie wn
; her caro sposo that ‘* cup which cheers, but not ine-
FRANK LESLIL’S NEW YORK JOURNAL.
briates,”’ and loaded his plate with some delicious
muflins—toasted and buttered by her own delicate
fingers—he gladdened her heart by a relation of his
morning's adventure ; in which he was never tired
of singing, nor she of. echoing, the praises of the
“ Comptroller-General of Private Disbursements.”
«* Who knows, my dear,” said John, ** to what the
Siendship of this great man may lead?”
«“ Yes,dndeed, John,” added his wife, “you may
get some government place yourself ——
“ Fiddle-de-dee !”. interrupted Mr. Brown, snap-
ping his fingers. -‘‘ That for your government
place! I look for much higher things, I can assure
you! What think you now “here he smiied and
winked very mysteriously—“ what. think you of
being jeweller to the crown?”
“Oh, John !” cried Mrs. Brown, gasping 3 “you
take my breath away, so you do
“I'm for going it!” cried Ion. “Talways was
a go-ahead fellow! I'll cut the silver, altogether,
after a few more good bargains, and stick to the
jewellery !”
“That -will be much: genteeler,” said his wife,
“and more becoming to the O’Driscolls !””
“'M be sure it will!” responded Brown. ‘ Only
think now, my dear Cecy, when I’m knighted by
the Lord Lieutenant !”
« Oh dear, John !” exclaimed hig delighted spouse;
“do you really think it ever will b
“Why not ?? cried John. “ Didn't his Grace the
Dake of Rutland knight that fellow Baxter, merely
for administering—hem—ahem: ”
‘And Lady Baxter is such a vulgar woman, too!”
observed Cecilia.
“Ah?” said John, “you'll take the shine out of
her, when you drive up to the Lady Licutenant’s
drawing-room in your handsome, elegant new
coach !?
“Not the buggy, John! ! said Cecilia, with a look
of determination.
“Fiddlestick buggy !” exclaimed John. ‘You
shall have the handsomest carriage in Long Acre ;
for I am determined to have everything from Lon-
don !”
“Trish carriages are low, vulgar things!” said
Mrs. Brown. ‘I hate jingles and jaunting-cars,
both inside and out !”
“And then,” continued John, in the pride of his
heart, * when the Castle porters shout out, ‘ Sir
John Brown’s carriage stops the way !’”
“ Won't it be delightful !’”’ cried the happy wife,
clapping her hands.
And you, my dear,” continued John, ‘are an-
nounced by a long file of footmen, with swords and
bag-wigs, as Lady Brown
** Dear John,” interrupted his wife, “couldn't we
make it Lady O'Driscoll Brown, or Lady Brown
O'Driscoll? "Twould sound so much better, you
know !”
“Well, my dear,”’ replied John, who was all com-
pliance at this climax of imaginary happiness, “ V’Il
consult the herald-at-arms on the subject; and if it
can be done for love or money, you shall be gratified.”
Here the uxurious silversmith gallantly kissed his
wife’s hand, while she threw herself into his arms
in the exuberance of her joy.
«And when you are introduced to her ladyship,
resumed Mr. Brown, working out his picture of vice-
regal felicity, “with all your r jewels sparkling about
you ——'
“ But no Irish diamonds, if you please !? said the
lady, with a warning shake of her forefinger 3 “mind
that, Sir John !
“They shall be all of the purest water and the
finest carat !” said the embryo knight. “ Indeed, I
have already made a large purchase ”
“Oh, then,” said the lady, smiling sweetly on her
considerate spouse, “that is why you sent to me in
such a hurry to-day for the money-box ?”
“What do you say?” cried John Brown, with a
yell like a war-whoop, and jumping up from his
chair as if the tea-urn had been upset in his lap.
“Good heavens, my dear!” exclaimed Mrs.
Brown, ina fright; ‘what's the matter? Are you
scalded ??
“ Scalded be ——!’ eaid Brown.
you say about money ?”
“The money you wrote for, my dear!’ replied
Mrs. Brown, trembling; for she had never seen her
husband in such a taking before, and began to think
that, as the weather was intensely hot, he might
have had a stroke of the sun, or been bitten by a mad
0,
“ What's that
&
“ Money that I wrote for!” screamed John Brown.
7“ Certainly, my dear!” replied his agitated wife.
“ Here is your note, beginning, as usual, ‘My dear
heedlessly plunged.
Mrs. Bro’
Oh! ‘oh! 1 sobbed her unhappy husband.
the note,” said Mrs.
motto, “ Celer et audax P
Oh! oh! oh!” groaned the frantic silversmith ;
“And you direct me,’*
back parlor !””
* And did you do so?’ shouted John Brown.
‘Certainly!’ replied his terrified wife.
pet.
dash, as Im a miserable sinner !
tification. °
General.”
Fresa Arr.—Man acts strangely.
seems indefatigable in the exercise of his inventive
powers to deprive himself of this heavenly blessing.
‘Thus, he carefully closes every cranny of his bed-
chamber against its entrance, and he prefers that his
lungs should receive the mixed effluvium from his
cellar and Jarder, and trom a patent little modern
aquarius in lieu of it. Why should man be so ter-
rified at the admission of night air into any of his
apartments? It is nature’s overflowing current,
and never carries the destroying angel with it. See
how soundly the delicate little wren and tender robin
sleep under its full and immediate influence, and
how fresh, Vigorous,-and joyous they rise amid
the surrounding dew-drops of the morning, Al-
though exposed all night to the air of. heaven, their
lungs are never out of order, and this we know by
the daily repetition of their songs. Look at the
newly born hare, without any nest to go to. It
lives and thrives, and becomes strong and playful
under the. unmitigated inclemency of the falling
dews of night. I have a fine male turkey, full eight
years old, and he has not passed a single night in
shelter. He roosts. in a cherry tree, and always is
in the primest health throughout the year. Three
dung-hill fowl, prefering the cherry tree to the
warm perches in the hen-house, took up their airy
quarters with him early in October, and have never
gone toany other roosting place.. The cow and the
horse sleep safely on the cold damp ground, and the
roebuck lies down to rest in the heather, on the
dewy. mountain’s top. I can myself sleep | all night
long, bare-headed, under the full moon's watery
beams, without any fear of danger, and pass the day
in wet shoes without taking cold, Coughs and
colds are generally caught in the transition from an
overheated room to a "cold apartment; but there
would be no danger in this movement if ventilation
were properly attended to, a precaution little
thought of now-a-days.
Tue Sense oF Snern —M. Orfila gives an ac-
count of a celebrated painter of Paris, of the name
of Vincent, who cannot remain in any room where
there are roses without being in a short time at-
tacked by a vigient headache, which is succeeded
by fainting. . Marrignes informs us that he
once knew a Peete who could not amell at a rose
without a sense of suffocation, which subsided as
soon as the rose was removed from him; the same
author also knew a lady who lost her voice when-
ever an odoriferous nosegay was applied to her
nostrils,
Prugstan| Maxrus.— Delays are anything but
dangerous. Never do to-day what can be done as
well to-morrow. The kettle that’s boiled too quickly
boils over. - The line of beauty isa corkscrew. _Dis-
tance lends enchantment to the view—especially of
a field of battle. The man who does not fight, has
his hands free to hold the coats of those who do—
and to run away with them if he pleases. If your
neighbor’s house on each side of you is on fire—
what matter ?—it’s all the easier for you to make the
pot boil. . Anything for a life of peace and quict-
ness!
Cecy!
“Oh!” groaned the distracted silversmith, who
now began to see the abyss into which he had’ so| was a dead calm, and the very cliffs in shore were
“ Your own handwriting and initials !” continued |
“ And though you forgot jn your hurry to address |
“ Audax witha vengeance ; but celer now no more!”
continued Mrs. Brown,
“to send you the money-box from the cabinet in the
**Then I’m dished, by heavens!” exclaimed Mr.
Brown, flinging himself at full length upon the car-
It was some time before Mrs. Brown could be
made to comprehend the nature of this dreadful
business ; and many weeks before her poor husband
could leave his chamber, so seriously was his health
affected by his heavy loss, and his still heavier mor-
He did, however, in time regain some-
thing like his former equanimity, but not before he
had been quizzed by his ‘“ good-natured” friends
to the verge of insanity ; and to his dying day he
he went by the nickname of—* The Comptroller.
Although a
current of fresh air is the life of his very lungs, he
295
Bravutirun Scene 1n THE Arctic Reaions.—It
seen mirrored on ‘the water, the glassy smoothness
of which was unbroken except by the plashing of
the oars of a long line of boats alread of each of the
ships... | The transpareney of the atmosphere was
such as can only be conceived by those who have
rown, “‘it is sealed with your | visited arctic countries, and’ the whole scene was
own crest—a bantam Tooster proper, with your | one that will be difficult to forget, the more so since
it was here we saw one of the most beautiful ice-
bergs of the many it was our fortune to observe
during the voyage. It was of immense size. The
almost perpendicular, as if a recent split had taken
place; but on rounding the corner and coming
abreast of the west side, which we did almost within
arm’s length, we found. it to be curiously wrought
like ledges—ledge above ledge, each festooned with
'a fringe of crystal icicles, which here and there
“Three hundred and fifty g guineas gone, slap- | reaching the ledge bencath, formed columns slender
as those of a Saracenic mosque; within them ran a
gallery green as emerald. ‘Iwo or three tiny tas-
cades were tinkling from ledge to ledge, and fell
with a soft plash into the water beneath, sending
the pearl-like bubbles dancing trom them over the
smooth surface. All was glancing and glittering
beneath the bright sun, and ifI had had it in my
power I could have stood for hours to gaze at it.
Passing the corner the north side was seen to be cut
into two deep little bays with sloping shores, a long
point running out between them. | ‘Ihe lowest ledge
of the west side rounded the corner and inclined
down towards the nearest bay, if so it may be called,
and ending in a broad platform. This little bay
seemed so snug, and lay so beautifully to the sun,
that, unnatural as it may appear, one could not help
fancying it, as a fit sight for a pretty cottage.
‘Tue Larx.—No bird is so easily netted as the
lark; he generally starts from the ground just before
the lower edge of the net touches him, and invaria-
riably mounts perpendicularly.” This characteristic
propensity to ascend at once may be observed by any
person who ‘treads up”’ a lark in a field, and satis-
factorily illustrated by releasing, at the same mo-
ment, a newly-captured lark and a sparrow from a
cage or hat within the precints of a room. While
the sparrow will fly off horizontally, dash himself
against the window, and lie almost stunned from
the shock, the lark will almost always mount up-
wards to the ceiling, and flutter there for a time,
in vain efforts to reach the sky, before he attempts
any other mode of exit; but this habit is fatal to
him in the netting season; he might generally
escape, as indeed the bunting or clod-bird, the spar-
row, and the linnet constantly do, by flying straight
forward; but ascending as he does, directly from
the ground, the moment his wings have touched the
upper part of the net, it is suffered to drop suddenly,
and his capture is inevitable.
Lyrva on A Bep or Toorns.—The Philadelphia
court has decided that a lendlady has a right to get
rid of a boarder who does not pay, by covering the
sheets of his bed with thistles.”’
that there will be scarcely a landlady in the civilized
world, but will seize on this coup de main with
avidity, when troubled with lodgers who have a
felicitous knack of promising «to see to it.” Our
recollections of boyhood serve to recall with a shud-
der the terrible sensations of hips-and-haws crawl-
ing down our backs, and when one has breakfasted
in “bed, and the people of the house happen to forget
to make it, the irritation imparted by crisp and
angular crumbs is remarkably unpleasant. Thistle,
how ever, we never yet slept on, or even dreamt of.
We have read of donkeys regarding them as a deli-
cious vegetable, but have not been asses enough to
try them ourselves; and we have heard healing
properties ascribed to them, although not certainly
as applied to the cure of bad pay. We expect,
however, now that the secret is out, that the lodging-
house keepers of the metropolis wi!l at once Jay in
a stock of.thistles; and we may inagine some such
injunction being imposed on the maid of all work,
as, ‘Mary, Mr. Softsoap owed a month last Mon:
day—begin the thistles to-night.” This may not
inaptly be regarded as poetical. justice, showing that
where there is no relying on a lodger’s word, “there
will be no relying on the unpaid fort bed.
A very pretty young woman went to the post-
office lately, with a letter and no direction, and said
to the postmaster: “Send that to my sweetheart 1”
The postmaster took it, looked at it, and said:
«What is his name, and where does he live?”
The girl replied: «Ah, that is the very thing I don't
want any one to know 1”
Ir you wish to make yourself agrecable to any
one, talk as much as you please about his or her
affairs, and as little as possible about your own.
south side, on which we advanced towards it, was ,
We should fancy °