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LAUSANNE.

OMNE SOLUM FORTI PATRIA

QUIA PATRIS.

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varied and always pleased, the creator of which, | Ludlow the Republican, one of the most honest divested of the ambition and the arts of public and manly adherents of the Parliament, in their rivalry, shone forth only to give fresh animation great struggle with Charles I., lived and died.— to those around her. The mother, tenderly af- The mansion stands near the gate leading to the fectionate and tenderly beloved; the friend, un- Valais, and over the door are inscribed the boundedly generous, but still esteemed; the cha-words, ritable patroness of all distress, cannot be forgotten by those whom she cherished, and protected, and fed. Her loss will be mourned the most where she was known the best; and to the sorrow of very many friends, and of more dependents, may be offered the disinterested regret of a stranger, who, amidst the sublime scenes of the Leman lake, received his chief satisfaction from contemplating the engaging qualities of the incomparable Corinna."

Many amusing and interesting anecdotes of Madame de Stael are, however, given in the "Notice" prefixed to her "Euvres inedites," by Madame Necker Saussure. From her we learn that the "wild, vain, but good-natured" Mademoiselle Necker actually proposed to her parents that she should marry Mr. Gibbon in order that they might secure the uninterrupted enjoyment of his society! Her devotion to her father is said almost to have amounted to idolatry, as the following anecdote will sufficiently prove. Madame Necker Saussure had come to Coppet from Geneva in M. Necker's carriage, and had been overturned on the way, but without receiving any injury. On mentioning the accident to Madame de Stael on her arrival, she asked, with great vehemence, who had driven; and on being told that it was Richel, her father's ordinary coachman, she exclaimed, in an agony, "My God! he may one day overturn my father!" and rung instantly with violence for his appearance. While he was coming, she paced about the room in the greatest possible agitation, crying out, at every turn, My father! my poor father! he might have been overturned!" and turning to her friend," At your age, and with your slight person, the danger is nothing; but with his age and bulk, I cannot bear to think of it." The coachman now came in; and this lady, usually so mild, and indulgent, and reasonable with all her attendants, turned to him in a sort of frenzy, and in a voice of solemnity, but choked with emotion, said," Richel! do you know that I am a woman of genius?" The poor man stood in astonishment, and she went on louder: "Have you not heard, I say, that I am a woman of genlus?" Coachee was still mute. "Well, then! I tell you that I am a woman of genius-of great genius-of prodigious genius! and I tell you more, that all the genius I have shall be exerted to secure your rotting out your days in a dungeon, if ever you overturn my father!" Even after the fit was over, she could not be made to laugh at her extravagance, and said, " And what had I to conjure with but my poor genius?"

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It is singular, that though her youth was passed amidst the most enchanting scenery of Switzerland, Madame de Stael had little relish for its charms. "Give me the Rue de Bac," said she to a person who was expatiating on the beauties of the Lake of Geneva; "I would prefer living in Paris in a fourth story, with a hundred louis a year."

At Vevay may still be seen the house in which

Of his residence at Vevay, and of the infamous attempts there made to assassinate him, Ludlow has left an account in his Memoirs. The parties employed to perpetrate this crime had already succeeded in destroying Mr. Lisle, another of the regicides, who, in the language of one of the royalist writers, was "overtaken by divine vengeance at Lausanne, where the miserable wretch was shot dead by the gallantry of three Irish gentlemen, who attempted the surprisal of him and four more impious parricides." One of these attempted surprisals is thus related by Ludlow: "According to our information, some of the villains who were employed to destroy us had, on the 14th of November, 1663, passed the Lake from Savoy in order to put their bloody design in execution the next day, as we should be going to the church. They arrived at Vevay about an hour after sunset; and having divided themselves, one part took up their quarters in one inn and the other in another. The next day, being Sunday, M. Dubois, our landlord, going early to the church discovered a boat at the side of the lake with four watermen in her, their oars in order and ready to put off. Not far from the boat stood two persons, with cloaks thrown over their shoulders; two sitting under a tree; and two more in the same posture a little way from them. M. Dubois, concluding that they had arms under their cloaks, and that these persons had waylaid us with a design to murder us as we should be going to the sermon, pretending to have forgotten something, returned home and advised us of what he had observed. In his way to us he had met one Mr. Binet, who acquainted him that two men, whom he suspected of some bad intention, had posted themselves near his house, and that four more had been seen in the market-place; but that, finding themselves observed, they had all retired towards the lake. By this means, the way leading to the church through the town being cleared, we went to the sermon without any molestation, and said nothing to any man of what we had heard; because we had not yet certainly found that they had a design against us. Returning from church, I was informed that the suspected persons were all dining at one of the inns, which excited my curiosity to take a view of the boat. Accordingly I went with a small company and found the four watermen by the boat, the oars laid in their places, a great quantity of straw in the bottom of the boat, and all things ready to put off. About an hour after dinner, I met our landlord, and having inquired of him concerning the persons beforementioned, he assured me they could be no other than a company of rogues; that they had arms under the straw in the boat; and that they had cut the withes that held the oars of the townboats, to prevent any pursuit if they should be forced to fly. But these ruffians, who had observed the actions of M. Dubois, and suspected

he would cause them to be seized, came down soon after I had viewed the boat, and in great haste caused the watermen to put off, and returned to Savoy. This discovery being made, the chatelain, the banderet, together with all the magistrates and people of the town, were much troubled that we had not given them timely notice that so they might have been seized. We afterwards understood that one Du Pose of Lyons, Monsieur Du Pre, a Savoyard (of whom I shall have occasion to speak more largely), one Cerise of Lyons, with Riardo before-mentioned, were part of this crew."

Du Pre was subsequently seized, and having been convicted of attempting to assassinate the English and of another crime, was sentenced to lose his head. The account of his execution is dreadful. "The day appointed for his execution being come, he was brought down; but the terrors of death, with the dismal reflections on his past life, seized upon him to such a degree that he fell into a rage, throwing himself on the ground, biting and kicking those that stood near, and asking if there were no hopes of pardon. He was told that he ought to remember that, if he had been taken in his own country, where he had murdered his brother-in-law, and had been broken in effigy on the wheel, he should not have been used so gently. He refused to go to the place of execution any otherwise than by force; so that about two hours were spent before he arrived at the place where he was to die, though it was within musket-shot of the prison. Here the executioner put a cap on his head, and placed a chair that he might sit; but he took off the cap and threw it away, and kicked down the chair among the people. When the executioner saw this, he tied his hands between his knees; and having assured him that if he persisted in his resistance he would cut him into forty pieces, after about an hour's contest, he at last performed his office."

On the revolution Ludlow returned to England, with the view of serving against James II. in Ireland; but a motion having been made in the House of Commons by Sir Edward Seymour, for an address to the king, praying that he would cause Ludlow to be apprehended, he returned to Switzerland, where he died in the year 1693. A monument was erected to his memory in the principal church of Vevay, by his wife, which Addison has copied in his Travels.

For the Saturday Evening Post. BLACK-HAWK'S ADDRESS TO HIS WAR

RIORS.

Where forest boughs a shelter made,

Gathered a warlike band,

The moon beams played on the shining blade

Each carried in his hand;

Though moon beams played, on the shining blade,

No banner they unfold,

The painted streak on each swarthy cheek,

Was fearful to behold.

Their Chieftain mutely standing by

Seemed born to be obeyed,

And his heart beat high, as his flashing eye The wild fierce band survey'd.

His heart beat high, fierce flashed his eye
When thus he them address'd-

The deep tones stirr'd, as soon as heard,
Revenge in every breast.

"Our gallant fathers, where are they?

Can echo answer make?

Like occan's spray, they've passed away-
Awake, then, warriors wake!

My sires like spray, have pass'd away,

Their bones are tombless now, Exposed are they, to the light of day,

By the white man's plough.

The whites our tribe a falsehood told,
Each belted warrior knows:
For we never sold, for paltry gold,

Earth where our dead repose;
For paltry gold, we've never sold

The lov'd land of our birth;

Our grain they waste, where the hut was plac'd Remains the roofless hearth.

Arm warriors for the fearful strife,

For hoarded vengeance due;

And let the knife, with the tide of life
Be dyed of a crimson hue.

Then let the knife, with the tide of life

No longer glitter bright,

But dye each blade, with a purple shade,
To attest your might.

Chiefs! we are summon'd to the fight,

By voices from the dead:

When the robe of night, has scatter'd light,

They rise from the dreamless bed:
When the robe of night, had scattered light,
I was afraid, appall'd,

For spirits pass'd on the viewless blast,

And for vengeance call'd.

With blazing domes, the night illume,

Sweet is revenge you know;
And my sable plume, will throw a gloom
Upon the boldest foe:

My raven plume, will throw a gloom
When in the breeze it shakes,
And foes will die, our battle cry

The infant's slumber breaks.

Our fathers trod the earth we tread,
Lords of these fertile plains-
No trace is seen, that they have been
But tombless, white remains.
List! a spirit's voice I hear,

The dead upon us call,

To stain the knife, with the tide of life, To conquer, or to fall.

The chieftain spoke. His tameless eye
Around with triumph gazed,

As the painted band, with axe in hand,
The yell of battle raised:

The painted band, with axe in hand
Prepared for deadly strife,

And each warrior felt, in his beaded belt,

For his keen edg'd knife.

AVON BARD.

PRIZE TALE.

MRS. WASHINGTON POTTS.

Mrs. Washington Potts.

BY MISS LESLIE.

BROMLEY CHESTON, an officer in the United States navy had just returned from a three years' cruise in the Medi terranean. His ship came into New York; and after he had spent a week with a sister that was married in Boston, he could not resist his inclination to pay a visit to his mater nal aunt, who had resided since her widowhood at one of the small towns on the banks of the Delaware.

The husband of Mrs. Marsden had not lived long enough to make his fortune, and it was his last injunction that she should retire with her daughter to the country, or at least to a country town. He feared that if she remained in Philadelphia she would have too many temptations to exercise her taste for unnecessary expense: and that in consequence. the very moderate income, which was all he was able to leave her, would soon be found insufficient to supply her with comforts.

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the back porch." And there they accordingly took their

seats.

"Do not suppose," continued Mrs. Marsden, "that we are cleaning house: but we are going to have a party tonight, and therefore you are most fortunate in your arrival, have sent invitations to all the most genteel families with for I think I can promise you a very pleasant evening. We in seven miles, and I can assure you there was a great deal of trouble in getting the notes conveyed. We have also asked a number of strangers from the city, who happen to be boarding in the village; we called on them for that purpose. If all that are invited were to come, we should an unusual number of regrets, and some have as yet rehave a complete squeeze; but unluckily we have received turned no answers at all. However, we are sure of Mrs. Washington Potts."

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papered." "Yes," replied Mrs. Marsden, "I see." said Cheston, "you are having your parlours we could not possibly have a party with that old-fashioned paper on the walls, and we sent to the city a week ago for a man to come and bring with him some of the newest patterns, but We will not venture to say that duty to his aunt Mars- entirely given him up, and after we had had the rooms put he never made his appearance till last night, after we had den was the young lieutenant's only incentive to this visit: in complete order in other respects. But he says, as the as she had a beautiful daughter about eighteen, for whom, parlours are very small, he can easily put on the new pasince her earliest childhood, Bromley Cheston had felt per before evening, so we thought it better to take up the something a little more vivid than the usual degree of re-carpets, and take down the curtains, and undo all that we gard that boys think sufficient for their cousins. His family did yesterday, rather than the walls should look old-fahad formerly lived in Philadelphia, and till he went into shioned. I did intend having them painted, which would the navy Bromley and Albina were in habits of daily in- of course be much better, only that there was no time to tercourse. Afterwards, on returning from sea, he always get that done before the party, so we must defer the paintas soon as he set his foot on American ground, began to ing now for three or four years till this new paper has devise means of seeing his pretty cousin, however short grown old." the time and however great the distance. And it was in "But where is Albina ?" asked Cheston. meditation on Albina's beauty and sprightliness that he had often "while sailing on the midnight deep," beguiled the long hours of the watch, and thus rendered more toJerable that dreariest part of a seaman's duty.

On arriving at the village, lieutenant Cheston immediately established his quarters at the hotel, fearing that to be. come an inmate of his aunt's house might cause her some inconvenience. Though he had performed the whole journey in a steamboat, he could not refrain from changing his waistcoat, brushing his coat sleeves, brushing his hat, brushing his hair, and altering the tie of his cravat. Though he had never told his love," it cannot be said that concealment had "preyed on his damask cheek," the only change in that damask having been effected by the sun and wind of the ocean.

Mrs. Marsden lived in a small modest-looking white house, with a green door and green venetian shutters. In early summer the porch was canopied and perfumed with honeysuckle, and the windows with roses. In front was a flower garden, redolent of sweetness and beauty; behind was a well-stored potager, and a flourishing little orchard. The windows were amply shaded by the light and graceful foliage of some beautiful locust-trees.

"What a lovely spot," exclaimed Cheston-and innocence-modesty-candour-contentment-peace-simple pleasures--intellectual enjoyments, and various other delightful ideas chased each other rapidly through his mind.

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The truth is," answered Mrs. Marsden, "she is very busy making cakes; as in this place we can buy none that are fit for a party. Luckily Albina is very clever at all such is certainly a great deal of trouble in getting up a party in things, having been a pupil of Mrs. Goodfellow. But there the country."

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Just then the black girl, Drusa, made her appearance, and said to Mrs. Marsden, I've been for that there bean you call wanilla, and Mr. Brown says he never heard of such a thing."

A man that keeps so large a store has no right to be so ignorant," remarked Mrs. Marsden. Then, Drusa, we must flavour the ice-cream with lemon."

"There an't no inore lemons to be had," said the girl, "and we've just barely enough for the lemonade."

"Then some of the lemons must be taken for the icecream," replied Mrs. Marsden, "and we must make out the lemonade with cream of tartar."

"I forgot to tell you," said Drusa," that Mrs. Jones says she can't spare no more cream, upon no account."

"How vexatious!" exclaimed Mrs. Marsden, “I wish we had two cows of our own-one is not sufficient when we are about giving a party. Drusa we must make out the ice-cream by thickening some milk with eggs."

Eggs are scarce," replied the girl, "Miss Albinar uses up so many for the cakes."

She must spare some eggs from the cakes," said Mrs. Marsden, "and make out the cakes by adding a little pearl ash. Go directly and tell her so."

ing. And as this party is given to Mrs. Washington Potts, it is extremely desirable that nothing should fail. There is no such thing now as having company, unless we can receive and entertain them in a certain style."

When he knocked at the door, it was opened by a black girl named Drusa, who had been brought up in the family, Cheston, though by no means au fail to the mysteries of and whose delight on seeing him was so great that she confectionary, could not help smiling at all this making out could scarcely find it in her heart to tell him that "the la--"Really," said his aunt, "these things are very annoydies were both out, or least partly out." Cheston, how ever, more than suspected that they were wholly at home, for he saw his aunt peeping over the bannisters, and had a glimpse of his cousin flitting into the back parlour; and besides, the whole domicile was evidently in some great commotion, strongly resembling that horror of all men, a house-cleaning. The carpets had been removed, and the hall was filled with the parlour-chairs: half of them being turned bottom upwards on the others, with looking-glasses and pictures leaning against them; and he knew that, on such occasions, the ladies of a family in middle life are never among the missing.

Go and give lieutenant Cheston's compliments to your ladies,” said he," and let them know that he is waiting to see them."

Mrs. Marsden now ran down stairs in a wrapper and morning cap, and gave her nephew a very cordial reception. Our house is just now in such confusion," said she, "that I have no place to invite you to sit down in except

"I perfectly remember," said Cheston, "the last party at which I was present in your house. I was then a midshipman, and it was just before I sailed on my cruize in the Pacific. I spent a delightful evening."

Yes, I recollect that night," replied Mrs. Marsden. "In those days it was not necessary for us to support a certain style, and parties were then very simple things, except among people of the first rank. It was thought sufficient to have two or three baskets of substantial cakes at tea, some almonds, raisins, apples, and oranges handed round afterwards, with wine and cordial, and then a large-sized pound-cake at the last. The company assembled at seven o'clock, and generally walked; for the ladies dresses were only plain white muslin. We invited but as many as could be accommodated with seats. The young people played

at forfeits, and sung English and Scotch songs, and at the close of the evening danced to the piano. How Mrs. Washington Potts would be shocked if she was to find herself one of those obsolete parties!"

•The calf-jelly won't be clear," said the black girl, again making her appearance. "Aunt Katy has strained it five times over through the flannen bag."

"Go then and tell her to strain it five-and-twenty times," said Mrs. Marsden, angrily-"It must and shall be clear. Nothing is more vulgar than cloudy jelly; Mrs. Washington Potts will not touch it unless it is transparent as amber."

"What, Nong tong paw again," said Cheston. "Now, do tell me who is Mrs. Washington Potts?"

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Is it possible you have not heard of her!" exclaimed Mrs. Marsden.

"Indeed, I have not," replied Cheston. "You forget, that for several years I have been cruising on classic ground, and I can assure you that the name of Washington Potts has not yet reached the shores of the Mediterra

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She is wife to a gentleman that has made a fortune in New Orleans," pursued Mrs. Marsden. "They came last winter to live in Philadelphia, having first visited London and Paris. During the warm weather they took lodgings in this village, and we have become quite intimate. So we have concluded to give them a party, previous to their return to Philadelphia, which is to take place immediately. She is a charming woman, though she certainly makes strange mistakes in talking. You have no idea how sociable she is, at least since she returned our call; which, to be sure, was not till the end of a week; and Albina and I had sat up in full dress to receive her for no less than five days; that is, from twelve o'clock till three. At last she came, and it would have surprised you to see how affably she behaved to us."

"Not at all," said Cheston, “I should not have expected that she would have treated you rudely."

"She really," continued Mrs. Marsden, " grew quite intimate before her visit was over, and took our hands at parting. And as she went out through the garden, she stopped to admire Albina's moss-roses: so we could do no less than give her all that were blown. From that day she has always sent to us when she wants flowers."

"No doubt of it," said Cheston.

on

"You cannot imagine," pursued Mrs. Marsden, “ what a familiar footing we are. She has a high opinion of Albina's taste, and often gets her to make up caps, and do other little things for her. When any of her children are sick, she never sends any where else for currant jelly or preserves. Albina makes gingerbread for them every Saturday. During the holidays she frequently sent her three boys to spend the day with us. There is the very place in the railing where Randolph broke out a stick to whip Jefferson with, because Jefferson had thrown in his face a hot baked apple which the mischievous little rogue had stolen out of old Katy's oven."

In the mean time, Albina had taken off the brown holland bib apron, which she had worn all day in the kitchen, and telling the cook to watch carefully the plumb-cake that was baking, she hastened to her room by a back staircase, and proceeded to take the pins out of her hair; for where is the young lady that on any emergency whatever, would appear before a young gentleman with her hair pinned up. Though, just now, the opening out of her curls was a considerable inconvenience to Albina, as she had bestowed much time and pains on putting them up for the evening.

Finally, she came down "in prime array," and Cheston, who had left her a school-girl, found her now grown to womanhood and more beautiful than ever. Stili he could not forbear reproving her for treating him so much as a stranger, and not coming to him at once in her morningdress.

Mrs. Washington Potts," said Albina, "is of opinion that a young lady should never be seen in dishabille by a gentleman."

Cheston now found it very difficult to hear the name of Mrs. Potts with patience." Albina," thought he, "is bewitched as well as her mother."

"He spoke of his cruize in the Mediterranean, and Albina told him that she had seen a beautiful view of the Bay of Naples, in a souvenir belonging to Mrs. Washington Fotts.

"I have brought with me some sketches of Mediterra

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And who are the Montagues?" inquired Cheston. "They are a very elegant English family," answered Mrs. Marsden, "cousins in some way to several noblemen." "Perhaps so," said Cheston.

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Albina met with them at the lodgings of Mrs. Washington Potts," pursued Mrs. Marsden, "where they have been staying a week for the benefit of country air; and so she inclosed her card, and sent them invitations to her party. They have as yet returned no answer, but that is no proof they will not come, for perhaps it may be the newest fashion in England not to answer notes." "You know the English are a very peculiar people," remarked Albina.

"And what other lions have you provided ?” said Ches

ton.

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Oh! no others except a poet," replied Albina. "Have you never heard of Bewley Garvin Gandy."

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Never!" answered Cheston-"Is that all one man?" Nonsense," replied Albina; you know that poets generally have three names. B. G. G. was formerly Mr. Gandy's signature; when he wrote only for the newspapers, but now since he has come out in the magazines, and annuals, and published his great poem of the World of Sorrow, he gives his name at full length. He has tried law, physic, and divinity, and has resigned all for the Muses. He is a great favourite with Mrs. Washington Potts."

"And now, Albina," said Cheston," as I know you can have but little leisure to-day, I will only detain you while you indulge me with Auld lang syne'-I see the piano has been moved out into the porch."

"Yes," said Mrs. Marsden, "on account of the parlour papering."

Oh! Bromley Cheston," exclaimed Albina, "do not ask me to play any of those antidiluvian Scotch songs. Mrs. Washington Potts cannot tolerate any thing but Italian."

Cheston, who had no taste for Italian, immediately took his hat, and apologizing for the length of his stay, was going away with the thought that Albina had much deteriorated in growing up.

"We shall see you this evening without the ceremony of a further invitation," said Albina.

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Of course," replied Cheston.

"I quite long to introduce you to Mrs. Washington Potts," said Mrs. Marsden.

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What simpletons these women are," thought Cheston, as he hastily turned to depart.

"The big plumb-cake's burnt to a coal," said Drusa, putting her head out of the kitchen door.

Both the ladies were off in an instant to the scene of disaster. And Cheston returned to his hotel, thinking of Mrs. Potts. (whom he had made up his mind to dislike,) of the old adage, that "evil communication corrupts good manners," and of the almost irresistible contagion of folly and vanity. I am disappointed in Albina," said he, "in future, I will regard her only as my mother's neice, and more than a cousin she shall never be to me."

"

Albina having assisted Mrs. Marsden in lamenting over the burnt cake, took off her silk frock, again pinned up her hair, and joined assiduously in preparing another plumb cake, to replace the first one. A fatality seemed to attend nearly all the confections, as is often the case, when particular importance is attached to their success. The jelly obstinately refused to clarify, and the blanc-mange was equally unwilling to congeal. The maccaroons having run in baking, had neither shape nor feature, the kisses declined rising, and the sponge-cake contradicted its name. Some of the things succeeded, but most were complete failures: probably because (as old Katy insisted) "there was a spell upon them." In a city these disasters could easily have been remedied, (even at the eleventh hour) by sending to a confectioner's shop, but in the country there is no alternative. Some of these mischances might perhaps have been attributed to the volunteered assistance of a mantua-maker, that had been sent for from the city to make new dresses for the occasion, and who, on this busy

MRS. WASHington potts.

day, being "one of the best creatures in the world," had declared her willingness to turn her hand to any thing.

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now, being in my seventy-fifth year. But Mrs. Howks and Mrs. Himes, and several others of my old friends, always It was late in the afternoon before the papering was invite me to their daughters' parties, along with Mary; and over, and then great indeed was the bustle in clearing I like to sit there and look about me and see people's new away the litter, clearing the floors, putting down the car- ways. Mary had a party herself last winter, and it went pets, and replacing the furniture. In the midst of the con-off very well, only that both the children came out that fusion, and whilst the ladies were earnestly engaged in night with the measles; and one of the lamps leaked, and fixing the ornaments, Drusa came in to say that Dixon the the oil ran all over the side-board, and streamed down on waiter that had been hired for the evening, had just arrived, the carpet; and, it being the first time we ever had iceand falling to work immediately, he had poured all the cream in the house, Peter, the stupid black boy, not only blanc-mange down the sink, mistaking it for bonny-clab- brought saucers to eat it in, but cups and saucers both." ber. This intelligence was almost too much to bear, and The old lady was now hurried up stairs, and she showed Mrs. Marsden could scarcely speak for vexation. much dissatisfaction on being told that as the damp parlours would certainly give her her death, there was no alternative but for her to remain all the evening in the chamber allotted to her. This chamber, (the best furnished in the house) was also to be the ladies' room,' and Albina somewhat consoled Mrs. Quimby by telling her that as the ladies would come up there to take off their hoods and arrange their hair, she would have an opportunity of seeing them all before they went down stairs. And Mrs. Marsden promised to give orders that a portion of all the refreshments, should be carried up to her, and that Miss Matson, the mantua-maker, should sit with her a great part of the evening.

Drusa," said Albina, "you are a raven that has done nothing all day but croak of disaster. Away and show your face no more, let what will happen."

Drusa departed, but in a few minutes she again put in her head at the parlour door, and said, “Ma'am, may I just speak one time more?"

"What now," exclaimed Mrs. Marsden.

"Oh! there's nothing else spiled or flung down the sink, jist now," said Drusa, "but something's at hand a heap worse than all. Missus's old aunt Quimby has jist landed from the boat, and is coming up the road with baggage enough to last all summer."

"Aunt Quimby!" exclaimed Albina, "this indeed caps the climax!"

Was there ever any thing more provoking," said Mrs. Marsden. When I lived in town she annoyed me sufficiently, by coming every week to spend a day with me, and now she does not spend days but weeks. I would go to Alabama to get rid of her."

And then," said Albina, "she would come and spend months with us. However, to do her justice, she is a very respectable woman."

All bores are respectable people," replied Mrs. Marsden, "if they were otherwise, it would not be in their power to bore us, for we could cut them and cast them off at once. How very unlucky. What will Mrs. Washington Potts think of her-and the Montagues too, if they should come? Still we must not affront her, as you know she is

rich."

"What can her riches signify to us," said Albina, "she has a married daughter."

True," replied Mrs. Marsden, "but you know riches should always command a certain degree of respect, and there are such things as legacies."

"After all, according to the common saying, "tis an ill wind that blows no good,' the parlours having been freshly papered, we can easily persuade aunt Quimby that they are too damp for her to sit in, and so we can make her stay up stairs all the evening."

At this moment the old lady's voice was heard at the door, discharging the porter who had brought her baggage on his wheelbarrow; and the next minute she was in the front parlour. Mrs. Marsden and Albina were properly astonished, and properly delighted at seeing her, but each after a pause of recollection, suddenly seized the old lady by the arms and conveyed her into the entry, exclaiming, "Oh! aunt Quimby, aunt Quimby! this is no place for yon." "What's the meaning of all this," cried Mrs. Quimby, "why won't you let me stay in the parlour."

You'll get your death," answered Mrs. Marsden, you'll get the rheumatism. Both parlours have been newly papered to-day, and the walls are quite wet."

That's a bad thing," said Mrs. Quimby-" a very bad thing—I wish you had put off your papering till next spring. Who'd have thought of your doing it this day of all days." "Oh! aunt Quimby," said Albina, "why did you not let us know that you were coming?"

"Why, I wanted to give you an agreeable surprise," replied the old lady. "But tell me why the rooms are so decked out, with flowers hanging about the looking-glasses and lamps, and why the candles are drest with cut paper, or something that looks like it."

"We are going to have a party to-night," said Albina."A party-I'm glad of it. Then I'm just come in the nick

of time.

"I thought you had long since given up parties," said Mrs. Marsden, turning pale.

No, indeed-why should I-I always go when I am asked to be sure, I can't make much figure at parties

Thick sour milk.

It was now time for Albina and her mother to commence dressing, but Mrs. Marsden went down stairs again with 'more last words,' to the servants, and Albina to make some change in the arrangement of the centre-table.

She was in a loose gown, her curls were pinned up, and to keep them close and safe, she had tied over her head an old gauze handkerchief. While bending over the centretable and marking with rose-leaves some of the most beautiful of Mrs. Hemans' poems, and opening two or three souvenirs, at their finest plates, a knock was suddenly heard at the door, which proved to be the baker with the second plumb-cake, it having been consigned to his oven. Albina desired him to bring it to her, and putting it on the silver waiter, she determined to divide it herself into slices, being afraid to trust that business to any one else, lest it should be awkwardly cut or broken to pieces; it being quite warm.

The baker went out, leaving the front door open, and Albina intent on her task of cutting the cake, did not look up till she heard the sound of footsteps in the parlour, and then what was her dismay on perceiving Mr. and Mrs. Montague and their daughter.

Albina's first impulse was to run away, but she saw that it was now too late; and pale with confusion and vexation, she tried to summon sufficient self-command to enable her to pass off this contre-tems with something like address.

It was not yet dusk, the sun being scarcely down, and of all the persons invited to the party, it was natural to suppose that the English family would have come the latest.

Mr. Montague was a long-bodied, short-legged man, with round gray eyes, that looked as if they had been put on the outside of his face, the sockets having no apparent concavity; a sort of eye that is rarely seen in an American. He had a long nose, and a large heavy mouth, with projecting under teeth, and altogether an unusual quantity of face; which face was bordered round with whiskers, that began at his eyes and met under his chin, and resembled in tex. ture the coarse wiry fur of a black bear. He kept his hat under his arm, and his whole dress seemed as if modelled from one of the caricature prints of a London dandy. Mrs. Montague, (evidently some years older than her husband,) was a gigantic woman, with features that looked as if seen through a magnifying glass. She had heavy piles of yellowish curls, and a crimson velvet tocque. Her daughter was a tall hard-face girl of seventeen, meant for a child by her parents, but not meaning herself as such. She was drest in a white muslin frock and trowsers, and had a mass of black hair curling on her neck and shoulders.

They all fixed their large eyes directly upon her, and it was no wonder that Albina quailed beneath their glance, or rather their stare, particularly when Mrs. Montague surveyed her through her eye-glass. Mrs. Montague spoke first. "Your note did not specify the hour-Miss-Miss Martin," said she, "and as you Americans are early people, we thought we were only complying with the simplicity of republican manners by coming before dark. We suppose that in general you adhere to the primitive maxim of early to bed and early to rise. I forget the remainder of the rhyme, but you know it undoubtedly."

Albina at that moment wished for the presence of Brom

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