"Come, my dear Harry," said Fanny, 'you had better all of you lay aside your unaccustomed tools, and come to supper. You have no idea how supremely awkward you all look," and she led the way into the supper-room. As we went down stairs I heard Harry say to one of his friends, "That stroke will tell double. My Fanny will take the hint, and use her needle in future; and D will learn not to make such a tremendous fuss as he does about a button more or less." year, the time, I believe, since my discriminating parents exchanged my infant cap for the manly castor. Three York shillings have I made this blessed day, heaven be thanked! and now I can conscientiously take a little "ease in mine inn!" Whereupon, I ignited my cigar with a self-enkindling apparatus, a gift from my considerate landlady-pray heaven she charges it not in her bill!-to save her candles, and ascending the three steps to my window, I seated myself in my accustomed chair, and forthwith beHarry is mistaken: I have not learned gan to speculate on things external. It yet to take the want of a button quietly. was that calm, lovely time, which is wont As the only source of discord between my to usher in the twilight of a summer evewife and myself is this one of shirt-but- ning. The roll of wheels on Broadway tons, I am determined to try and remove beneath me was ceaseless. Bright forms it. Private remonstrance is unavailing; flashed by in gay carriages. The happy, the thing occurred again this morning, the gallant, the beautiful, were all forth and now I am resolved to effect a radical to take the air on the fashionable evereform all over the country. My present object is to form an Anti-Buttonless Shirt League and to agitate the question in every legal way. We will have monster husband meetings at Exeter Hall, that stronghold of female benevolence, where the wives of England will be addressed by Mrs. Ellis on the subject. It shall be proved to them that it is a just demand we make. We merely ask at first, a fair amount of buttons for a day-shirt." Afterwards, we will assert our rights to a due number for our "nightly wearing." In fact, dear reader, this is a question that ought to become national, since it comes home to every man's bosom. I am so convinced of the great prevalence of this evil, and of the strong feeling of discontent which it has produced, that I entertain no doubt that these few words, feeble as they are to "reach the height of this great argument," will be like the little match which fires a train of gunpowder. 66 ELIZA COOK. ning drive. Why was I not with the cavalcade? Where was my Rosinante? Where was my "establishment?" Echo answered "where?" I puffed away silently and vigorously for a few seconds, as these mental queries assailed me; and, blessed soother of the troubled, oh, incomparable cigar! my philosophy returned. Diagonally opposite to my window stands one of the proudest structures on Broadway. It is costly with stone and marble, lofty porticoes and colonnades. This edifice first attracted my attention by its architectural beauty, and eventually fixed it by a mystery, that seemed, to my curious eye, surrounding one of its inmates. But I will throw into the story vein what I have to relate, for it is a nouvellette in itself. I can unveil you the mystery, lady. A lady of dazzling beauty was an inmate of that mansion, and, for aught I know to the contrary, its only inmate. Every afternoon, arrayed in simple white, with a flower or two in her hair, she was seated at the drawing-room winTHE ROMANCE OF BROADWAY. dow, gazing out upon the gay spectacle "I have earned three shillings, York, Broadway exhibits on a pleasant afterthis blessed afternoon!" I exclaimed with noon. I saw her the first moment I took ill-suppressed exultation, as I threw down possession of my dormant nook, and was my pen, which I had been diligently struck with her surprising loveliness. using for four hours-(I was penning "an Every evening I paid distant homage to article" for a certain "monthly," dear her beauty. Dare a poor scribbler, a mere reader)-pushed my closely written man- penny-a-liner, aspire to a nearer approach uscripts from me, and complacently took to such a divinity, enshrined in dollars a yellow cigar from my hat, which I have and cents? No! I worshipped like the made my chief pocket since my fifth publican, "afar off." ""Tis distance lends enchantment to the view." But she was stranger rode up, bowed with ineffable not destined to be so worshipped by all. grace and (blessed encounter that, with One afternoon she was at her window, the omnibus wheel!)-his bow was acwith a gilt-leaved volume in her hand, knowledged by an inclination of her suwhen a gentleman of the most graceful perb head, and a smile that would make bearing rode past my window. He was a man of any soul seek accidents even in well mounted, and sat his horse like an the "cannon's mouth." He rode slowly Arabian. He was what the boarding forward, and, in a few seconds, the carschool misses would call an elegant fel- riage took the same direction. There are low; a well-bred woman of the world, a no inferences to be drawn from this, remarkably handsome man. Tall, with reader. All the other carriages passed a fine oval face, a black penetrating eye, the same route. It was the customary and a moustache upon his lip, together one. At the melting of twilight into with a fine figure, and the most perfect night, the throng of riders and drivers address, he was what I should term a cap- repassed. The "lady's" carriage (it was tivating and dangerous man. His air, and a landau, and the top was thrown back)— a certain indescribable comme il faut, be- came last of all. The cavalier was riding spoke him a gentleman. As he came op- beside it. He dismounted as it drew up posite her window, his eye, as he turned before the door, assisted her to the pave, it thither, became fascinated with her and took his leave. For several afterbeauty. How much lovelier a really noons, successively, the gentleman's aplovely creature appears seen through pearance, mounted on his noble animal, plate glass! Involuntarily he drew in was simultaneous with that of the lady at his spirited horse, and raised his hat. her carriage. One evening they were The action, the manner and the grace unusually late on their return. Finally, were inimitable. At this unguarded mo- the landau drew up before the door. It ment the hind wheel of a rumbling was too late to see faces, but I could have omnibus struck his horse in the chest. sworn the equestrian was not the stranger! The animal reared high, and would have No; he dismounted, opened the door of fallen backward upon his rider, had he the carriage, and the gentleman and lady not, with remarkable presence of mind, descended. The footman had rode his stepped quietly and gracefully from the horse, while he, happy man, occupied a stirrup to the pavement, as the horse, seat by the side of the fair one. I losing his balance, fell violently upon his watched the progress of this amour for sevside. The lady, who had witnessed with eral days, and still the stranger had never surprise the involuntary homage of the entered the house. One day, however, stranger, for such, from her manner of about three o'clock P. M., I saw him receiving it, he evidently was to her, lounging past, with that ease and self-posstarted from her chair and screamed con- session which characterized him. vulsively. The next moment he had passed and repassed the house two or secured and remounted his horse, which three times, and then rather hastily was only slightly stunned by the fall, ascending the steps of the porticoacknowledged the interest taken in his pulled at the bell. The next moment he mischance by the fair being who had been was admitted, and disappeared out of my its innocent cause (unless beauty were a sight, but only for a moment, reader. crime) by another bow, and rode slowly An attic hath its advantages. The and composedly onward, as if nothing blinds of the drawing-room were drawn, unusual had occurred. The next even- and impervious to any glance from the ing the carriage was at the door of the street; but the leaves were turned so as mansion. The liveried footman was stand- to admit the light of heaven and my own ing with the steps down, and the handle gaze. I could see through the spaces, of the door in his hand. The coachman directly down into the room, as distinctly was seated upon his box. I was, as usual, as if there was no obstruction. This I at my window. The street door opened, give as a hint to all concerned, who have and, with a light step, the graceful form revolving leaves to their Venetian blinds. of my heroine came forth and descended Attic gentlemen are much edified thereto the carriage. At that moment-(some by. The next moment he was in the men surely are born under the auspices room, his hand upon his heart-another, of more indulgent stars than others)-the and I saw him at her feet. Sir-would He “I have the honor to be your son-inlaw!" "The devil you have! and who may you have the honor to be?" "The Count Ly!" with a bow of ineffable condescension. "You are an impostor, sir!" "Here is your eldest daughter, my wife," replied the newly-made husband, taking by the hand his lovely bride, who had come imploringly forward as the disturbance reached her ears. "Here is my wife, your daughter." that I had language to paint you the The young ladies started back at the prescene! Lady-I then learned the " art sence of the new footman. The old of love!” I shall have confidence, I gentleman, who was now at the door, inhave so good a pattern, when I go to quired as he saw him, loud enough for me make my declaration. The declaration, to hear, "Who in the devil's name are the confession, the acceptation, all passed you, sir?" beneath me most edifyingly. Then came the labial seal that made his bliss secure. By his animated gestures, I could see he was urging her to some sudden step. She, at first, appeared reluctant, but gradually becoming more placable, yielded. In ten minutes the landau was at the door. They came out arm in arm, and entered it. " I could hear the order to the coachman, " Drive to St. John's Church." "An elopement!" thought I. "Having been in at breaking cover, I will be in at the death!" and taking my hat and gloves, I descended, as if I carried a policy of insurance upon my life in my pocket, the long flights of stairs to the street, bolted out of the front door, and followed the landau, which I discerned just turning the corner of Canal street. I followed full fast on foot. I eschew omnibuses. They are vulgar! When I arrived at the church, the carriage was before it, and the "happy pair" already joined together, were just crossing the trottoir to re-enter it. The grinning footman, who had legally witnessed the ceremony, followed them. The next day, about noon, a capacious family carriage rolled up to the door of the mansion, followed by a barouche with servants and baggage. First descended an elderly gentleman, who cast his eyes over the building, to see if it stood where it did when he left it for the Springs. Then came, one after another, two beautiful girls, then a handsome young man. "How glad I am that I have got home again!" exclaimed one of the young ladies, running up the steps to the door. “I wonder where Jane is, that she does not meet us?" The sylph rang the bell as she spoke. I could see down through the blinds into the drawing-room. There was a scene ! The gentleman was for going to the door, and the lady, his bride, was striving to prevent him! "You shan't!" "I will!' "I say you shan't!" "I say I will!" were interchanged as certainly between the parties, as if I had heard the words. The gentleman, or rather husband, prevailed. I saw him leave the room, and the next moment open the street door. "You are mistaken, sir, she is my housekeeper." A scene followed that cannot be described. The nobleman had married the gentleman's housekeeper. She had spread the snare, and, like many a wiser fool, he had fallen into it. Half an hour afterward a hack drove to the servants' hall door, and my heroine came forth, closely veiled, with bag and baggage, and drove away. The Count, for such he was, I saw no more! I saw his name gazetted as a passenger in a packet ship that sailed a day or two after for Havre. How he escaped from the mansion remaineth yet a mystery. Henceforth, dear reader, I most conscientiously eschew matrimony. BY J. P. INGRAHAM, 1839. DON'T DO IT AGAIN. St. Gregory the Great affirms that a little monk got into such a habit of working miracles, that at length the prior forbade him to exercise his supernatural talent. The monk conformed to the order; but one day seeing an honest bricklayer falling from the roof of a house, he hesitated between the monastic obedience and charity in saving the poor man's life; and only ordering him to remain in the air till he got orders, he ran to acquaint the prior with the case. The prior gave him absolution for the sin of beginning a miracle without leave, and allowed him to go through with it, but never to do the like again. THE SUNDAY QUESTION. [THOMAS HOOD was born in London, in 1798, and after leaving school was placed in the counting-house of a Russian merchant; but his health failing, he was sent to Dundee. At the age of 17 he returned to London, and engaged himself to learn the art of engraving with his uncle. In 1821 he was offered the post of sub-editor of the London Magazine, which he accepted, and at once entered upon its duties and an extensive literary acquaintance. His first separate publication was en The Birds invisible-the Gnaw-way Rats- What is the brute profanity that shocks To bend his legs, the way he does, in kneel- titled,-Odes and Addresses to Great People. He pub- Was strict Sir Andrew, in his Sabbath coat, lished Whims and Oddities in 1826, of which a second and third series appeared during the two following years. In 1829 he commenced The Comic Annual, and continued it for nine years. He edited The Gun for one year, contributing to its pages his strik ing poem entitled, - Eugene Aram's Dream. In 1839 he published Up the Rhine, the idea of which was taken from Humphry Clinker. On his return to Eng land he became the editor of The New Monthly Magazine, and on his withdrawal from its management, in 1843, he published Whimsicalities, consisting chiefly of his contributions to that serial. In 1844 he started Hood's Magazine, and contributed to its pages till within a month of his death. During his last illness Sir Robert Peel conferred on him a pension of £100 a year, which was transferred to his wife. He died May 3, 1845, and was buried in Kensall Green cemetery.] "It is the king's highway that we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed the lions."-BUNYAN. What! shut the Gardens! lock the latticed gate! Refuse the shilling and the fellow's ticket! On Sundays no admittance at this wicket! Of Tea, wherein the artisan carouses- No ale is vended at the wild Deer's Head No rum-nor gin-not even of a Monday- So different from other Sunday beavers! Struck all a-heap to see a Coati mundi? One thing is plain-it is not in the feeding! day But then the beasts are pious on these points, The Snake, pro tempore, the true Satanic? That now and then Good Friday falls on Monday Do Irish minds suppose that Indian Cows Are wicked Bulls of Bashan on a Sunday?— There are some moody Fellows, not a few, Is't possible that Pug's untimely fun Has sent the brutes to Coventry till Mon- Or perhaps some animal, no serious one, What dire offense have serious Fellows found Were charitable boxes handed round, THE SUNDAY QUESTION. And would not Guinea Pigs subscribe their | The tender Love-Bird-or the filial Stork? guinea? Perchance, the Demoiselle refused to molt The feathers in her head-at least till Monday; Or did the Elephant, unseemly, bolt A tract presented to be read on Sunday? But what is your opinion, Mrs. Grundy? At whom did Leo struggle to get loose? Who mourns through Monkey-tricks his Who has been hissed by the Canadian Goose? As certain wild Itinerants on Sunday- To me it seems that in the oddest way (Begging the pardon of each rigid Socius) Our would-be Keepers of the Sabbath-day Are like the Keepers of the brutes ferociousAs soon the Tiger might expect to stalk About the grounds from Saturday till Monday, As any harmless man to take a walk, If Saints could clap him in a cage on Sunday But what is your opinion, Mrs. Grundy? In spite of all hypocrisy can spin, As surely as I am a Christian scion, 1 cannot think it is a mortal sin (Unless he's loose)—to look upon a lion. I really think that one may go, perchance, To see a bear, as guiltless as on Monday(That is, provided that he did not dance)— Bruin's no worse than bakin' on a SundayBut what is your opinion, Mrs. Grundy? In spite of all the fanatic compiles, I cannot think the day a bit diviner That what we christen "Natural" on Mon day, Whereon is sinful fantasy to work? The Dove, the winged Columbus of man's haven? 391 The punctual Crane-the providential Ra ven? The Pelican whose bosom feeds her young? The busy Beaver-that sagacious beast! The Sheep that owned an Oriental Shep- That Desert-ship, the Camel of the East, The Creatures of the Great Creator's hand Are surely sights for better days than Mon day The Elephant, although he wears no band, But what is your opinion, Mrs. Grundy? ture, Seek once a week their spirits to assoil, And snatch a glimpse of "Animated Nature?" Better it were if, in his best of suits, The artisan, who goes to work on Monday, Should spend a leisure hour among the brutes, Than make a beast of his own self on Sun |