MRS. BROWN IN AMERICA. DOMESTIC MATTERS. Он, law! there's nothing but trouble here, for I don't think as ever I did see sich a ignorant lot as the 'Merrykins, and that conceited as they won't be taught nothink, and make my blood bile with their waste, as I says to 'em "wilful waste makes woeful want," as the sayin' is, but only got laughed at by that gal of Mrs. SKIDMORE's, as ain't no more of a servant than a 'andsaw, and as to bein' a gal will never see fifty no more in this world, and as ugly as sin, with a temper like a fieldmale devil; and as to cooking, why it's a downright sin to see wittles messed as theirs is, though not fine meat by any means, and all cut the wrong way, and to see the things as they'll eat together, as is liver and bacon, with pickled cabbage, and fried 'taters and raw cabbage, and little biscuits and bread and butter, with a lot of cold water and rubbishin' tea to set it all a-floatin'. Certingly, to see 'em take a lump of butter on the side of the plate, as is swimmin' in 'ot roast beef and gravy, and not eat it after all, and lots of pie, and all bolted down in ten minnits, for afore I can get the salt and pepper and mustard on my plate, as I likes with roast beef and cabbage, the others 'as licked their plates clean, and well they may, a-goin' at it 'ard and fast with knife and fork by turns in their mouths, as it's a mercy they don't slit their mouths across their cheeks, and then a-lappin up the gravy with a tea-spoon, as don't look nice to my mind. TUB's birthday as they keeps a 'oliday, and bein' obligated for to take the hinfant, and 'er 'usband a-comin' to fetch 'er 'ome thro' the frost and snow as got to their own door pretty nigh perished, and couldn't get in for all their 'ammerin' and ringin' as lives next door to Mrs. SKIDMORE. I put my 'ead out of the winder a-thinkin' as it might be fire, a is bustin' out constantly all over the place thro' overeatin' the 'ouses. Jest as I looked out, Mrs. SKIDMORE she'd 'ad Mrs. SWEENY in thro' the baby a-shriekin' with the cold a-strikin' to it; tho', in my opinion, thro' 'er a-eatin' everythink as is improper, as, I'm sure, pickles at every meal, and bread and cheese with tea, let alone raw cabbage with stewed oysters, as is a deal too sloppy for me. door; Well, she'd come in, and was a-settin' in the basement, as is what they calls the front kitchen, and young MAVOR, as is a plumber by trade, and lives along with Mrs. SKIDMORE, he bust open the back and there was that gal a-layin' like dead on the floor, as 'ad broke open what they calls a pantry, as is only a cupboard, and 'ad been and drained what they calls a "Jemmy-John" of that beastly whiskey, as is enough to pison Old Scratch; and it's as well as SWEENY was as fond on it as he were, for if there'd been much on it she'd 'ave been a dead 'ooman. THE GIRL (NOT) OF THE PERIOD. As to the children, they'll grab at everythink, and 'owl if it ain't give 'em, and give as much talk if they ain't give way to as thoughITTLE SECRETS.-MOUCHES pour bal. Eaux Noirs, Brun, et Chatain, dyes they were the elders, but their parents likes to 'ear 'em what they considers clever and calls smart, as I calls downright cheek and impidence. But, as I were a-sayin', their ignorance is downright dreadful, for they don't know the names of things, and won't be told nothink, for I wanted a bit of musling for to make up a cap, as I don't mind a-sayin' is a night-cap, so I says to Mrs. SKIDMORE'S gal as I wished as she would bring me a yard-and-a-'arf of musling. Well, what does she give me when she comes in but a yard and more of long cloth. says, "Biddy," as is her name, "this ain't musling." "Oh," she says, I here." I says, sure that's all the musling as you'll be gettin' "Where did you get it ?" She tells me the shop, as isn't far off, so I didn't say no more to her, knowin' as I could never beat nothink into 'er 'ead, as wouldn't understand, not even if she could, and thinks as I should be a-passin' the shop next day, and would call in, and so I did. I says to the party as kep' the shop, "I begs your pardin' for a-troublin' of you, but I sent a young person, leastways not young but single, last night for a bit of musling, as went and brought me long cloth, as is not a thing as you can make a night-cap on," and nice rubbish it was, though in course I didn't say so to 'im. Well, he looks at that long cloth, and says, "I guess you won't get better musling nowhere than that." I says, "This ain't musling at all." He says, "What are you a-talkin about ?" I says, "Musling, as this isn't." He says, "It is." I says, "Go along with you; why, its long-cloth, and not good enough to make my 'usband's night shirts, as is as coarse as a 'opsack, and enough to scrub you to death." He says, "I reckon he'd be glad to get a scrub." I says, "No, he wouldn't, as is clean enough without no scrubbin'." He says, "Look here, I ain't a-goin' to 'ave my time took up with your talk, jest take your musling and clear out." says, "You're a nice party for to keep a shop, as don't know musling from long-cloth," but I says, "it's my fault for dealin' at sich a ketch-penny rubbish of a shop, as I should never 'ave come into only thro' sendin' a ignorant gal." He says, "I don't want no more of your talk; clear out," and if he didn't lay 'old of the bit of long-cloth and shy it right out on to the pavement, and says, "If you don't clear out pretty quick, I'll shy you arter it." He was one of them hugly, squint-eyed parties as I can't a-bear the sight on, and was arf afeared as he'd spit 'is beastly baccy juice in my face, so out I goes and picks up the bit of long-cloth and 'ome I goes, and if Mrs. SKIDMORE and the others didn't say as it were musling all over the world, as I knows better, but then you see 'ow should parties know the difference as ain't been used to nothing decent. I'm sure their ways is downright shameful, as is all brought on by drink, as is the curse of the country, and not drinkin' jolly, but the men always a-takin' sperrits, and not a place as a woman can enter for a drop of 'onest beer, as is p'raps as well, for they're bad enough as they are, and what they would be in liquor goodness knows. Not as they're a bit more sober than their betters, as were proved by Mrs. SWEENEY, as went out to see 'er own mother on Old WASHING pâte et liquide. Rouge de Lubin, does not wash off. Eau de Violette, pour la the Hair any shade in one minute. Kohhl, for the Eyelids. Blanc de Perle, bouche. Powder Bloom, pour blonde et brunette. Persian Antimony and Egyptian Henna. Bleu pour les veines. Rouge of Eight Shades. Sympathetic Blush, Opoponax Oil. All these, and many other little Secrets.-See Advertisement. poudre pour polir les Ongles. Pistachio Nut Toilet Powder. Fiorimel of Palm. My mother bids me dye my hair The fashionable hue: And change my chataigne locks with care, To red-through green, or blue! "You can't," she cries, "my dear, do less- But, ah! I only wish that PIESSE And LUBIN were away! [An interval of two years is supposed to elapse. HOW THE HORSES Grows louder and clearer,-Grows stronger and nearer. "They're off!" "They are coming!" "Who leads?" "Black and red!"-"No! Green, by a head!" "The Earl!" "No, the Lady!"-"Typhoeus looks shady!" "Orion! Orion,-To live or to die on!" "Twenty pounds to a crown-On the little Blue Gown." "I'll venture my whole in-That colt by Tom Bowline!" "Paul Jones!" "Rosicrucian!" "Green Sleeve!" "Restitution!" "Le Sarrazin!" "Pace!" "It's Mercury's race!" Some faces grow brighter-and some grow forlorner: Old Gardener:-"WELL, MASTER JOHNNIE, AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Johnnie :-"WHY, YOU SEE, MARTIN, PA SAID LAST NIGHT THAT LATIN AND GREEK ARE DEAD LANG JAGES-90 I'M GOING TO BURY THEM." LINDLEY MURRAY AHOY! ONE of the scribes of the Telegraph has penned a "gusher" on BROUGHAM, summing up his merits as follows: "For BROUGHAM's fruitfulness we have but to look round upon the county courts. upon mechanics' institutes, upon the Penny Magazine,' upon the abolition of arrest on mesne process. A man that has done so much deserves, at the hands of the State, a public funeral and a stately monument." A column and a half of praise culminates in the abolition of arrest on mesne process!! Well, we will not quarrel with the selection of the subjects; to the writer these may appear BROUGHAM's greatest acts, and who knows but he might have a personal feeling of gratitude in regard to what he considers his crowning work. But we do object to his maltreatment of LINDLEY MURRAY in his desire to do justice to the memory of HENRY BROUGHAM, whose ashes he asserts should be"Laid in the great Temple of Silence and Reconciliation where the dust of PITT and Fox, SHERIDAN, CANNING, and MACAULAY are peacefully mouldering." To which we can only reply-Are it? Surely the writer of the brilliant article must have derived far more benefit from LORD BROUGHAM'S legal reforms than from his efforts for the spread of elementary education. Answers to Correspondents. [We cannot return unaccepted MSS. or Sketches, unless they are accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope; but we do not hold ourselves responsible for loss.] G. W. S. (Carlisle.)-"All abuses that croppeth up" can scarcely be said to be English. We don't publish contributions in unknown tongues. ribbing the old joke about "mystery" and "MISS TERRY,") to call himself COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER Would have done better (in consideration of his with brevity-Bag-man. TVRO.-A happy selection of a name; it is more than likely that wheel tire o' such a felloe, with a circular letter like a round robin. J. MARSDEN (Annan).-We cannot undertake to teach you the niceties of the English language. Give your mind to it, and you may get a better return than you deserve. CROSSTREES looks very like our old friend Skyblue, breaking out in a new place. S. T. H.-You need not send us imitations of MRS. BROWN. BROKEN FAITH.-Well, you do seem, if not broken, decidedly cracked. PHILO-NICHOLAS.-We regret to say our old sportive prophet has not certain noble Marquis, to be involved on the Turf:-can he have got into yet turned up. We are at a loss to account for it. He is known, like a the hands of the Jews? Declined with thanks.-J. H., Castle-street; Harry Hairyface; E. R. L., Grimsby; St. John's-wood: T. R., North Devon; Solomon Noall; A. C. C. 5. 5. 3.; B. A., St. George's; T. J. C., Birkenhead; Lex; Sweedlepipes; X., Brighton; Tyro, Aberdeen; A Country Playgoer; J. B. R., Leytonstone; Try Again; J. M. E. M., Exmouth; X. A.; One Who Abbors Vagrants"; J. R., Liverpool; Non Compos, N. Shields; C., Esher; Nemo; E. H., White Lion-street; Thistletop; E. K., Coventry; Josephine; M., Glasgow; W. B B., Stoke Newington; Possil; J. C. P. Crescent-place; A. H. B., Old Jewry; C., Gresham House; E. A. K.; S. C. H., Dartmouth; Mongo. THE GIFT HORSE. Page:-"MASTER'S COMPLIMENTS, SIR, AND HE'S SENT YOU A HAUNCH OF OLD DOBBIN; YOU'VE SAT BEHIND HIM SO OFTEN HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE IT." 66 SIR,-I am a comic poet, but too often hard up for a rhyme. Many words in common use have no rhyme at all to them-others have only one or two. We all know the familiar examples of rhymeless words"orange," "silver," and "month," but these are words that one seldom wants to end a line with, so their peculiarities are not a matter of much importance. But such petty monosyllables as up,' "with," "for," &c., should be better provided with rhymes than they are. My suggestion is, that inventors be requested to give names to their inventions that will rhyme with these and other words whose recurrence at the end of lines often drives a bard frantic. The poet and the inventor would each derive a material benefit from such an arrangement-the poet would have rhymes to awkward words, ready to hand, and the inventor would consequently get his invention advertised gratuitously. What was the inventor of the Rantoone about, that he did not call it the "Runth"? "Month" would have been mated, and all would have. ended happily. As it is, that unfortunate word has no alternative but to put up with a discreditable left-handed union with "runn'th" (for runneth"), or "millionth," with a senseless emphasis on the last syllable. Yours, A DISTRACTED POET. A DERBY DILEMMA. WITH tempting bribes of seats on drags, Behind less showy-looking nags Than I should like to stable. They paint one then a Morn of May, Then I into a corner brought, Jove! forgetting, very queer- CAVE CANEM. WHEN the pulses throb and quicken, And the layers' odds increase. When the last persuasive Bobby Has contrived to clear the course; Then the ordinary hobby Rushes madly-not a horse! From the corner execrated. Mad with fright and wet with foam; Now with yells and laughter baited, Kick'd where he would find a ho Wedged in uninviting places, When the crowd is all agog Down that avenue of faces, Dashes on the Derby Dog! A queery. MUST all the legs belonging to "a dark borse," be necessarily black? THE WORST STAYER IN THE DERBY LOT.-One that stays at the post while the rest finish the race. Keep them dark! ONE hears a good deal about "dark 'uns" in connection with the Derby, but the darkest ones we have met with lately are mentioned in the report of the EYRE Persecution. MR. GIFFARD demanded the names of some of the subscribers to the Persecution Fund, and MR. SHAEN told him that some of the subscribers wished their names to be kept secret. A respectable firm like MESSRS. SHAEN and Roscoв must feel complimented by these persons "who do ill by stealth and blush to find it shame." They must feel that the dark 'uns, who are ashamed of the cause they support, cannot regard them with much respect. Well, let these persons who stab in the dark remain darkas dark as their precious protégés. Only they must not be surprised if public opinion declares that "nameless black-guardians" is a title three letters too long for them. KINGSFORD'S OSWEGO PREPARED CORN, Established 1849. For Puddings, Custards, Blanc Mange, &c. The original and genuine American preparation of Indian Corn. They brought him white kid gloves, and pails, And candlesticks, and potted quails, And capstan-bars, and scales and weights, And ornaments for empty grates. Why I mention these. My tale is not of these-oh, no, A confidant had BAILEY B., A gay Mongolian card was he; And so I call him SIMPLE JAMES. Bab His Confidant's Countenance. A deed of blood, or fire, or flames, And why on earth good BAILEY BEN The Author to his Reader. But why should I encumber you Let me recall my wandering muse; To tell the deeds of BAILEY B. One morning knocked, at half-past eight, A tall Red Indian at his gate. In Turkey, as you're p'raps aware, Mocassins decked his graceful legs, His eyes were black, and round as eggs- "Ho, ho!" he said, "thou pale-faced one, To say that BAILEY ope'd his eyes But why should I ransack my head (To be Continued-AUTHOR.)-(No !-EDITOR.) THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.-Auricula confession. |