"CIGAR SMOKE.' We Ir was the third anniversary of our wed- means such a summary process. ding-day, and Mary and I (my prettiest consider and weigh the respective merits and gentlest of wives has, as is fitting, of our admirers quite coolly and philosothe prettiest and gentlest of names)—phically before we decide, I assure you. Mary and I have enjoyed a comme- We make our comparisons-draw our morative iced-cake at tea, of wonderful inferences-compare characters, all from excellence, for Mary made it; and, having trifles I grant, but with wonderful shrewdbeen up-stairs together to look at dear ness sometimes, as in the present case. little Charley in his crib, were now seated It cost me, however,' she continued, at our cosy fireside; I, with an unreproved archly, 'some trouble to decide whether ĺ cigar between my lips, and Mary very preferred you or Morris, and indeed to denear me, enjoying a harmonious matri- termine whether either of you were worth monial chat. What we talked about, my going to the extreme length of actually and what pleasant reminiscences were in- falling in love. As I told you, a trifle dulged in what whispers-what trifles decided me; but it was a significant trifle, -what nothings-were called to mind, one that showed which way the wind blew. may be so very easily imagined, at least Do you want to hear about it, John? by all happy married couples, that it is Are you prepared for a full and free conby no means worth my while to try to fession? Yes, I see by your smile that write them down here. you are both curious and good-natured; so I will tell you the truth, and the whole truth for once.' The conversation was as charmingly monotonous as such conversations usually are, till I chanced, in my foolish confidence, to say, with a laugh, 'I can't help laughing, Mary, to think what a fool I was, once upon a time, to worry and fret myself about that young dandy, Morris, who was dangling about you at the same time I was. I might have known better, mightn't I?' 'I don't know about that,' said Mary, with a blush, and a coquetish toss of her head. 'Perhaps you are not at the bottom of that mystery yet-wise as you think yourself, sir!' My countenance fell. This had been a sore subject for me in former years, but Mary's unquestionable affection had just convinced me that my old doubts had never had any foundation, that she must have loved me first, and always. My wife continued, with mischievous candour, 'I can tell you, John, you had some cause for jealousy in those times; for I came near-very near taking Morris instead of you. Only the merest trifle decided me in your favour. Shall I tell you what it was? Nay,' she added, quickly, 'you need not look so grumpy-you've no cause for jealousy now, you spoiled creature? It's a great mistake to suppose that all girls fall into love at first sight. With some, and the most sensible, I flatter myself, the proceeding is by no So, looking at me, with a glance of mingled sauciness and affection, my little wife spoke out. "There never was a poor woman so distressed as I was, to decide between you and Morris. If you only knew all the sleepless nights you caused me! but never mind, I'll take my revenge for that before I've done with you yet! I used to lie awake and think and think, till my head ached. I knew that you both wanted me, and that I might have either, but for my life I could not tell which I wanted. Morris was certainly the handsomest-you need not make such a grimace-it is true, but there was something honest and manly about your face, such as it was, that I liked-oh, you smile now, do you? Morris dressed best, was the most elegant in his manners, had the most fashionable friends, was most admired by the other girls; but still, notwithstanding all these advantages, I had an unaccountable and groundless leaning toward you, which prevented my quite deciding in his favour. A conversation which I had with you, sir, one day, on the most trivial of subjects, determined my life's choice; a conversation which I do not believe you remember, or have ever thought of since.' 'What was it about?' I asked, curiously. 'About smoking!' cried Mary, with the merriest laugh. 'Do you remember, as we sat on the piazza at our countryhouse one summer-day after dinner?' 'No, I recollect nothing about it.' 'Well, it was simply this. I desired you to make my presence no obstacle, if you wished to enjoy a cigar. You replied that you did not smoke. "Why not?" I asked, with some curiosity.-"Because," you answered, quite simply, "I think it's time enough for a young man to indulge in such luxuries, when he is able to pay for them with his own money." And then you added, carelessly, "Smoking is an expensive habit, I suppose you know." I did not know; I had never thought about it before; but I did now. I admired and respected you for that answer, John. It let me see through your honourable and honest character.' 'Smoke and fudge!' I interrupted, with an attempt at a frown; but the little woman paid no heed to the sham, which she instantly saw through-she was speaking very earnestly now, with a flush on her soft cheek, and a sparkle in her eyes. 'I thought about that speech after you left me, John, and pondered it, and liked it more and more. You were at that time just established in business with your father's means; as yet you had nothing of your own, and you were right, quite right. I saw, even by so slight a thing, that you were actuated by high principles, and then it was, John, that I began to like you so very much. Besides this, I applied my new ideas to Morris, and what did I find? a young man, whose parents were actually pinching themselves to give him a fine collegiate education, selfishly indulging in all sorts of extravagance, not merely in the trifling matter of cigar-smoking, but of dress, fashionable amusements, &c. It showed the wrong spirit, John, and my choice was made from that hour-oh, how little I repent it!' The tears were in her eyes as she spoke, and she rose hastily, doubtless the reader has already conjectured, to throw herself in her adoring husband's arms, &c., to make a pretty concluding_scene for my story. Not at all, though I confess there are some such sentimental passages in our married life (for Mary is very romantic); still in the present instance she simply took down another cigar from the mantel, seeing my first had vanished in smoke, and having lighted it, she handed it to me, with her brightest, sweetest smile, saying, 'And now you see, John, how it comes that I am so passionately fond of cigar-smoke.' Of course I can't expect my intelligent reader to be quite of my wife's way of thinking. Of course she sees through all this smoke which she conjured up about me, as clearly, if not more so, than I do. We know, of course, that smoke is smoke. But let me tell him that smoke of this kind is a smoke of 'virtuous powers.' It penetrates with a delicious aroma, not to the brain, but to the heart. It sweetens the temper-it tranquillises the mind-it softens the heart. I would simply advise such poor, pitiful bachelors as don't know what I'm talking about, to throw away their cigars, if need be, and try it. They will find it surpass the finest Havannas. THE YANKEE VOLUNTEERS.* Ye Yankee volunteers! Though oft 'tis told one. [A surgeon of the United States army says, that, on inquiring of the captain of his company, he found that nine-tenths of the men had enlisted on account of some female difficulty.]-Morning Paper. And cruel in the New As in the Old one! What-in this company Of sixty sons of Mars, Who march 'neath Stripes and Stars, With fife and horn, Nine-tenths of all we see Along the warlike line Had but one cause to join This Hope Forlorn? Deserters from the realm And now with sword and helm, And so it is with all And swords gold-hilted— Come, each man of this line, The fifer nimble- O cymbal-beating black, Who caused thy ruin? With thy rat-tatooing. Will pierce and rankle; Alcides was befool'd, W. Makepeace Thackeray. [20] THINGS THAT IT'S BETTER TO DO.-It's better to brew beer than mischief; to be smitten with a young lady than with rheumatism; to fall into a fortune than into the sea; to be pitted with a mother-in-law than the small-pox; to cut a tooth than a friend; to stand a dinner than an insult; to shoot a partridge instead of the moon; to have the drawing of an artist instead of a blister; and to nurse the baby at any time in preference to your anger. You can't get anything in this world without money, some say; but this is not true, for without money you get into debt. A student of one of our colleges had a barrei of ale deposited in his room, contrary, of course, to rule and usage. He received a summons to appear before the president, who said, 'Sir, I am informed that you have a barrel of ale in your room.'-'Yes, sir.'-'Well, what explanation can you make?'-'Why, the fact is, sir, my physician advises me to try a little each day as a tonic, and not wishing to stop at the various places where the beverage is retailed, I concluded to have a barrel taken to my room.'-'Indeed. And have you derived any benefit from the use of it?'-'Ah, yes, sir. When the barrel was first taken to my room, two days since, I could scarcely lift it. Now I can carry it with the greatest ease.' We believe the witty student was discharged without special reprimand. A DISAGREEABLE HUSBAND.-A story is told of the rage there was at Paristo see the first representation of the opera of "The Prophet.' A lady, the most exemplary in her domestic relations, had been fortunate enough to secure a place, when her husband was taken suddenly and dangerously ill. A friend, who called to express sympathy with her, found her wringing her hands in evident abandonment to grief-"That creature,' she said, 'has all his life done nothing but vex me! You will see, now! He will die -expressly to prevent my going to see the new opera the first night!' ABSOLVED FOR LIFE.-A gentleman was lately called upon as witness in a court of justice in Ireland, but his testimony was objected to because he did not observe fasting in Lent. The bench asked his reason for disregarding the rites of the Church, to which the practised casuist made this reply-'About two years ago I met the Bishop of Ardagh, and he asked me why I was looking so ill. I replied that the fasting in Lent did not agree with me; upon which he told me not to fast any more till I saw him again. Well, it pleased the Lord to take the good bishop to himself, and I have never seen his face since.' A GREEN HAND.-A sailor, the other day, in describing his first efforts to become nautical, said that just at the close of a dark night he was sent aloft to see if he could see a light. As he was no great favourite with the lieutenant, he was not hailed for some hours. 'Aloft there!' at length was heard from the lieutenant.-'Ay, ay, sir.'. 'Do you see a light!' 'Yes, sir.' 'What light.'-'Daylight, by jingo.' 1 Mr Piscator keeps a tavern. Visiters havo only one objection to Piscator-he is too clean. Before he cuts you a piece of steak, he always licks the knife, so that it may not have any taste of ham and 'them eggs.' MRS BULL FROG. Ir makes me melancholy to see how like fools some very sensible people act in the matter of choosing wives. They perplex their judgments by a most undue attention to little niceties of personal appearance, habits, disposition, and other trifles, which concern nobody but the lady herself. An unhappy gentleman, resolving to wed nothing short of perfection, keeps his heart and hand till both get so old and withered, that no tolerable woman will accept them. Now, this is the very height of absurdity. The true rule is, to ascertain that the match is fundamentally a good one, and then to take it for granted that all minor objections, should there be such, will vanish, if you let them alone. Only put yourself beyond hazard, as to the real basis of matrimonial bliss, and it is scarcely to be imagined what miracles, in the way of reconciling smaller incongruities, connubial love will effect. For my own part, I freely confess, that, in my bachelorship, I was precisely such an over-curious simpleton as I now advise the reader not to be. My early habits had gifted me with a feminine sensibility, and too exquisite refinement. I was the accomplished graduate of a drygoods store, where, by dint of ministering to the whims of fine ladies, and suiting silken hose to delicate limbs, and handling satins, ribands, chintzes, calicoes, tapes, gauze, and cambric needles, I grew up a very lady-like sort of a gentleman. It is not assuming too much to affirm that the ladies themselves were hardly so lady-like as Thomas Bullfrog. So painfully acute was my sense of female imperfection, and such varied excellence did I require in the woman whom I could love, that there was an awful risk of my getting no wife at all, or of being driven to perpetrate matrimony with my own image in the looking-glass. Besides the fundamental principle already hinted at, I demanded the fresh bloom of youth, pearly teeth, glossy ringlets, and the whole list of lovely items, with the utmost delicacy of habits and sentiments, a silken texture of mind, and, above all, a virgin heart. There was every chance of my becoming a most miserable old bachelor, when, by the best luck in the world, I made a journey into another state, and was smitten by, and smote again, and wooed, won, and married the present Mrs Bullfrog, all in the space of a fortnight. Owing to these extempore measures, I not only gave my bride credit for certain perfections, which have not as yet come to light, but also overlooked a few trifling defects, which, however, glimmered on my perception long before the close of the honeymoon. Yet, as there was no mistake about the fundamental principle aforesaid, I soon learned, as will be seen, to estimate Mrs Bullfrog's deficiencies and superfluities at exactly their proper value. The same morning that Mrs Bullfrog and I came together as a unit, we took two seats in the stage-coach, and began our journey towards my place of business. There being no other passengers, we were as much alone, and as free to give vent to our raptures, as if I had hired a hack for the matrimonial jaunt. My bride looked charmingly, in a green silk calash and riding-habit of pelisse cloth, and whenever her red lips parted with a smile, each tooth appeared like an inestimable pearl. Such was my passionate warmth, that we had rattled out of the village, gentle reader, and were lonely as Adam and Eve in Paradise-I plead guilty to no less freedom than a kiss! The gentle eye of Mrs Bullfrog scarcely rebuked me for the profanation. Emboldened by her indulgence, I threw back the calash from her polished brow, and suffered my fingers, white and delicate as her own, to stray among those dark and glossy curls, which realised my day-dreams of rich hair. ་ 'My love,' said Mrs Bullfrog, tenderly, 'you will disarrange my curls.' 'Oh no, my sweet Laura!' replied I, still playing with the glossy ringlets; 'even vour fair hand could not manage a curl more delicately than mine. I propose myself the pleasure of doing up your hair in papers every evening, at the same time with my own.' 'Mr Bullfrog,' repeated she, 'you must not disarrange my curls.' This was spoken in a more decided tone than I had happened to hear until then from my gentlest of all gentle brides. At the same time she put up her hand and took mine prisoner, but merely drew it away from the forbidden ringlet, and then immediately released it. Now, I am a fidgetty little man, and always love to have something in my fingers; so that, being debarred from my wife's curls, I looked about me for any other plaything. On the front seat of the coach, there was one of those small baskets in which travelling ladies, who are too delicate to appear at a public table, generally carry a supply of gingerbread, biscuits and cheese, cold ham, and other light refreshments, merely to sustain nature to the journey's end. Such airy diet will sometimes keep them in pretty good flesh for a week together. Laying hold of this same little basket, I thrust my hand under the newspaper with which it was carefully covered. 'What's this, my dear?' cried I; for the black neck of a bottle had popped out of the basket. 'A bottle of kalydor, Mr Bullfrog,' said my wife, coolly taking the basket from my hands, and replacing it on the front seat. There was no possibility of doubting my wife's word; but I never knew genuine kalydor, such as I use for my own complexion, to smell so much like cherrybrandy. I was about to express my fears that the lotion would injure her skin, when an accident occurred which threatened more than a skin-deep injury. Our Jehu had carelessly driven over a heap of gravel, and fairly capsised the coach, with the wheels in the air, and our heels where our heads should have been. What became of my wits I cannot imagine; they have always had a perverse trick of deserting me just when they were most needed; but so it chanced that, in the confusion of our overthrow, I quite forgot that there was a Mrs Bullfrog in the world. Like many men's wives, the good lady served her husband as a steppingstone. I had scrambled out of the coach, and was instinctively settling my cravat, when somebody brushed roughly by me, and I heard a smart thwack upon the coachman's ears. "Take that, you villain!' cried a strange, hoarse voice. 'You have ruined me, you blackguard! I shall never be the woman I have been!' And then came a second thwack, aimed at the driver's other ear, but which missed it, and hit him on the nose, causing a terrible effusion of blood. Now, who or what fearful apparition was inflicting this punishment on the poor fellow, remained an impenetrable mystery to me. The blows were given by a person of grisly aspect, with a head almost bald, and sunken cheeks, apparently of the feminine gender, though hardly to be classed of the gentler sex. There being no teeth to modulate the voice, it had a mumbled fierceness, not passionate, but stern, which absolutely made me quiver like calf's-foot jelly. Who could the phantom be? The most awful circumstance of the affair is yet to be told; for this ogre, or whatever it was, had a ridinghabit like Mrs Bullfrog's, and also a green silk calash dangling down her back by the strings. In my terror and turmoil of mind, I could imagine nothing less than that Old Nick, at the moment of our overturn, had annihilated my wife, and jumped into her petticoats. This idea seemed the more probable, since I could nowhere perceive Mrs Bullfrog alive; nor, though I looked very sharp about the coach, could I detect any traces of that beloved woman's dead body. There would have been a comfort in giving her Christian burial! 'Come, sir, bestir yourself! Help this rascal to set up the coach,' said the hobgoblin to me; then, with a terrific screech to three countrymen at a distance, 'Here, you fellows, an't you ashamed to stand off when a poor woman is in distress?' The countrymen, instead of fleeing for their lives, came running at full speed, and laid hold of the topsy-turvy coach. I, also, though a small-sized man, went to work like a son of Anak. The coachman, too, with the blood still streaming from his nose, tugged and toiled most manfully, dreading, doubtless, that the next blow might break his head. And yet, bemauled as the poor fellow had been, he seemed to glance at me with an eye of pity, as if my case were more deplorable than his. But I cherished a hope that all would turn out a dream, and seized the opportunity, as we raised the coach, to jam |