Parker keeps his hat on, when he is talking to ladies, and neglects his
teeth and hair--you needn't laugh, mamma! Yesterday morning, he joined
me in the street, and came home with me, or, nearly home; for he
stopped short, a little way from the house, let me cross a great
mud-puddle, as well as I could, alone, and open the gate for myself,
though I had my hands full of things. It's true, he had the grace to
color a little, when I said, significantly, as he bade me good morning,
that I was glad I had crossed the Slough of Despond, without accident."
"That showed that a sensible woman could correct his faults," I
remarked.
"I don't know about that," replied my hostess. "Such things, as Rebecca
says, _indicate character_; and I would not advise any young lady to
marry a man, with the expectation of reforming him."
"Not of a cardinal vice, certainly," said I; "but there are"--
Here a servant interrupted me with--"Mr. Parker's compliments, Miss,"
and offered my fastidious young friend a large parcel, wrapped in a wet,
soiled newspaper, and tied with dirty red tape.
"Ugh!" exclaimed the Sybarite, recoiling, with unrepressed disgust.
"What is it, Betty? It can't be for me!"
"It _is_, Miss, an' no mistake--the boy said it got wet in the rain,
widout, as he was bringing it, an' no umberrellar wid him."
"Will you just take it into the hall, and take off the paper, Biddy? Be
careful not to let it get dirty and wet, inside, will you?"--With
studied _nonchalance_.
Presently Biddy laid down a large, handsomely-bound volume, and a note,
before the young lady.
"It is a copy of Macaulay's 'Lays of Ancient Rome,'" said she, skimming
over the note. "Mr. Parker was alluding to some passage in one of the
poems, this morning. He says I will find it marked and begs me to accept
the book, as a philopoena--oh, here are the lines--I thought them very
fine as he recited them. Shall I read them, mamma? And you, sir, will
you hear them?"
"'Then none was for a party;
Then all were for the state;
Then the great man helped the poor,
And the poor man loved the great;
Then lands were fairly portioned;
Then spoils were fairly sold:
The Romans were like brothers,
In the brave days of old.'"
The enthusiasm with which the appreciating reader read this spirited
passage, did not prevent my observing that she held her handkerchief
closely pressed upon the back of the exquisite antique binding of the
volume, in the hope, as I inferred, of drying the stain of wet which I
noticed, at once attracted her attention when she took up the gift. The
open note, as it lay upon the table, disclosed a torn, ragged edge, as
if it had been carelessly severed from a sheet of foolscap.
Whatever her reflections, the young lady had too much instinctive
delicacy to comment upon these peccadilloes, and so, of course, I could
institute no defense of my friend. I, therefore, _tacked_, as a sailor
would say.
"Howard's a noble fellow," said I, "in spite of his little oddities, but
he has one fault, unfortunately, which I fear will prevent his winning
much favor with the ladies."
"What is that?" inquired my young auditor, in a tone of seeming
indifference, but with a heightened color, and an eager glance.
"He is _poor_!"
"Do you mean that he _lives by his wits_, as the phrase is?" asked my
hostess.
"By no means! simply this:--Parker began the world without a dollar, and
has had, thus far, to 'paddle his own canoe,' as he expresses it,
against wind and tide."
"That is quite the best thing I ever knew of him!" exclaimed Rebecca,
with animation. "It does him great credit, in my estimation! But,
Colonel, I cannot agree with you in thinking Mr. Parker, _poor_!"
"No?"
"No, indeed! in my regard, _no man in our country is poor, who possesses
health, education, and an unblemished reputation_!"
* * * * *
In the library of the only representative of the British government in
this country--and he was the lineal representative, as well, of one of
the oldest, wealthiest and most aristocratic of noble English
families--whose guest I remember to have been, I found great numbers of
books, which he had brought with him from home, but they were arranged
upon simple, unpainted pine shelves, put up for convenience, while the
owner should remain at Washington. He brought his books, because he
wanted them for constant use--but, though accustomed to the utmost
luxuriousness of appointment at home, he did not dream of bringing
furniture across the Atlantic, or of apologizing for the absence of more
than was demanded by necessity in his temporary residence.
I remember, too, to have heard it said that one of the recent governors
of the Empire State had not a single article of mahogany furniture in
his house at Albany; and yet, nobody complained of any want of
hospitality or courtesy on his part, while making this discovery. The
simple fact was, that, being without private fortune, and the salary of
his office insufficient for such expenditures, _he could not afford
it_--and no man, I believe, is bound to run in debt, to gratify either
the expectations or the vanity of his political constituents.
As a contrast to these anecdotes, how does the following incident
impress you?
Walking down Broadway, in New York, one bright morning with a
distinguished American statesman, he suddenly came to a full halt before
a show-window in which glittered, among minor matters, a superb
_candelabra_, in all the glory of gilding and pendants.
"That's a very handsome affair, Lunettes," said my companion; "let us
step in here a moment."
We entered accordingly. A salesman came forward.
"What is the price of that candelabra, in the window?" inquired the
statesman.
"Six hundred dollars," replied the young man.
"Pack it up and send it to M----," replied my friend, turning to go.
"And the bill, sir?"
"You may send the bill to me--to D---- W----, at Washington."
I happened to know that the great man had, only within a day or two,
been released, by the generosity of several of his personal friends,
from an embargo upon his movements that would otherwise have prevented
his eloquent thunder from being heard in the National Senate!
* * * * *
The massive head and stately bearing of John Marshall always rise before
my mind's eye, when I recall this characteristic illustration of his
native manliness:
The Chief Justice was in the habit of going to market himself, and
carrying home his purchases. He might frequently be seen at sunrise,
with poultry in one hand and vegetables in the other.
On one of these occasions, a young Northerner, who had recently removed
to Richmond, and thus become a fellow-townsman of the great Virginian,
was heard loudly complaining that no one could be found to carry home
his turkey.
The Chief Justice, who was unknown to the new-comer, advancing, inquired
where the stranger lived and on being informed, said, very
quietly--"That is on my way; I will take it for you;" and receiving the
turkey, walked briskly away.
When he reached the house that had been designated, Marshall awaited the
arrival of the owner, and delivered up his burden.
"What shall I pay you?" inquired the youth.
"Nothing, whatever," replied the biographer of Washington, "it was all
in my way, and not the slightest trouble--you are welcome;" and he
pursued his course.
"Who is that polite old man?" asked the young stranger of a by-stander.
He was answered--"_That is John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United
States._"
I well remember, too, how often I used to join my old friend, Chief
Justice Spencer, of New York, as he climbed the long hill leading to his
residence, at Albany, with a load of poultry in his hand. And I dare say
his great-hearted brother-in-law, De Witt Clinton, often did the same
thing. Certain I am, that he was the most unostentatious of human
beings, as simple and natural as a boy, to the end of his days.
* * * * *
I have the vanity to believe that you will not have forgotten the little
sketch I gave you, in a previous letter, of my interesting young friend
Julia Peters. Not long after my brief acquaintance with her--that is,
within a year--I received a newspaper neatly inclosed, and sealed with a
fanciful device, in prettily-tinted wax, which being interpreted for me
by a fair adept in such matters, was said to read--"Love, or Cupid,
carrying a budget to you from me." The following paragraph was carefully
marked:
"MARRIED:--In the Church of the Holy Innocents, in this village, on
Tuesday, May 12th, by the Rev. B---- Y----, St. John Benton and
Julia A. Peters, daughter of the late Fitz-James Peters, Esq., of
Princeton, N. J."
Then followed this sentence, in large characters:
"THE PRINTER AND THE 'CARRIER' ACKNOWLEDGE A BOUNTIFUL RECEIPT OF
SUPERB WEDDING-CAKE.- - - _May every blessing attend the happy
pair!_"
I, too, had my share of the wedding-cake, accompanied by very tasteful,
simple cards, as well as a previous invitation to the wedding, written
jointly by Mr. and Mrs. Y----, and in terms most flatteringly cordial,
and complimentary. Mrs. Y---- and I had, by this time, exchanged letters
more than once. I will give you, as a specimen of the agreeable
epistolary style of my fair friend, the following communication, which
reached me some two or three months after the marriage of her sister.
"RECTORY, ----, _Aug. 22d_, ----.
"DEAR COL. LUNETTES:--
"I avail myself of my very first leisure to comply with the request
contained in your most kind and acceptable letter of last week.
Whether your amiable politeness does not overrate my capacity to
write a 'true woman's letter--full of little significant details
and particularities,' remains to be seen. I will do my best, at
least, and 'naught extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.'
"I hardly know where to begin, in answer to your query about the
'possibility of the most economical young people managing to live
on so small an income.' The truth is, Julia and I, thanks to a
judicious mother, were _practically educated_, which makes all the
difference in the world in a woman's capacity to 'make the worse
appear the better reason' in matters of domestic management. The
house they live in is their own. Mr. Benton, fortunately, possessed
the means of fully paying for it (he was entirely frank with Mr.
Y---- about all these matters, from the beginning) and Julia was
able to furnish it simply, though comfortably. It is a small
establishment, to be sure,--a little house and a little garden, but
it is _their own_, and that gives it a charm which it would not
otherwise possess. They feel that they will have the benefit of
such improvements as they may make, and it is wonderful what an
effect this consciousness produces. The house was a plain,
bald-looking building enough, when Fitz-James bought it. Julia said
it would be a bold poetic license to call it _a cottage_!--but he
has studied architecture, at intervals, as he has had time, with a
view to future advancement, and so he devised, and partly
constructed, tasteful little ornaments to surmount the windows, and
a very pretty rustic porch in front. The effect was really almost
magical when united with the soft, warm color that took the place
of the glaring white of which every one is becoming so tired. It is
quite picturesque, I assure you, now. As a romantic young lady said
of it--'it is like the cottages we read of,--quite a
picture-place.' But, pretty and tasteful as it is _outside_, one
must become an inmate of Julia's little Eden, to know half its
claims to admiration. It is just the neatest, snuggest, cosiest
little nest (by the way they call it '_Cosey Cottage_,' as you will
please remember when you write, dear sir) you can imagine. There is
nothing grand, or even elegant, perhaps, but every part is
thoroughly furnished for convenience and comfort, and _everything
corresponds_. It is not like some city houses I have been in, where
everything was expended in glare and display in the two
parlors--'_un_wisely kept for show,' and up-stairs and in the
kitchen, the most scanty, comfortless arrangements. Julia's carpets
and curtains are quite inexpensive, but the colors are well chosen
for harmony of effect. (Julia rather prides herself upon having
things _artistic_, as she expresses it, even to the looping up of a
curtain.) There is a sort of indescribable _expression_ about the
little parlor, which, by the way, they _really use_, daily--her
friends say--'How much this is like Julia!' Some of Julia's crayon
heads, and a sketch or two of Mr. Benton's are hung in the
different rooms, and they have contrived, or rather imitated, (for
I believe St. John said it was a French idea) the prettiest little
_brackets_, which are disposed about the walls and corners of the
parlor. They are only rough things that her husband makes up,
covered by Julia, with some dark material, and ornamented with
fringe, costing almost nothing, but so pretty in effect for
supporting vases of flowers or little figures, or something of that
kind. Then there is a tiny place, opening from the parlor,
dignified with the name of _library_, where Julia and Benton
'draped,' and 'adjusted,' and re-draped, and re-adjusted, to their
infinite enjoyment and content, and somewhat to _my amusement_, I
will confess to _you_, dear sir. Indeed they _trot in harness_, to
borrow one of St. John's phrases,--most thoroughly _matched_, as
well as _mated_, and go best together. _They_ think so, at least, I
should infer, as they always _are_ together, if possible. Julia
helps Benton in the garden--holds the trees and shrubs while he
places them, and ties up the creeping-roses, and other things he
arranges over the porch, and around the windows, and assists him
with the lighter work of manufacturing rustic seats and stands, and
baskets for the garden and summer-house; and Benton (who has quite
a set of tools) puts up shelves and various contrivances of that
sort, and _did_ help to lay the carpets, etc., Julia told me.
Indeed, while I was with them, Mr. Benton's daily life constantly
reminded me of the beautiful injunction--'Let every man show, by
his kind acts and good deeds, how much of Heaven he has in him.'
"But I only tire you, dear sir, by my poor attempts to portray my
sister's simple happiness--_you must see it for yourself_! I make
no apology for the minuteness of my details,--if they seem puerile,
Colonel Lunettes has himself to thank for my frankness, but I have
yet to learn that my valued friend says, or writes, what he does
not mean.
"I have left to the last--because so pleasant a theme,--some
reference to Julia's pride and delight in your beautiful
bridal-gift to her. She has, no doubt, long since, written to thank
you; but I cannot deny myself the gratification of telling you how
much she values and enjoys it,--from my own observation. It is
really noticeable too, how exactly it suits with all the other
table appointments she has--(unless perhaps it is a shade too
handsome) only another proof of Colonel Lunettes' fine taste! Mr.
Y----, to tease Julia, asked her one evening, when she was
indulging in a repetition of her usual eulogy upon the gift and the
giver, whether she really meant to say that she _preferred_ a china
tea-pot, sugar-bowl, and cream-cup, to silver ones. 'Indeed I do,'
said she, 'a silver tea-service for _me_, would be "sicklied o'er
with the pale cast of thought!" It would not suit my style at all.'
Julia says she shall never be perfectly happy until she makes tea
for Colonel Lunettes, from her beautiful china, and Mr. Benton says
Colonel Lunettes is the _only man in the world of whom he is
jealous_! Upon this, there always follows a gentle (_very_ gentle)
twitching of St. John's whiskers, of which, I will add, by way of a
description of the _personnel_ of the young man, he has a pair as
black and curling as Mr. Y----'s,--indeed, I must concede that
Julia's husband is almost as handsome as my own!
"We are all eagerly anticipating the fulfillment of your promise to
visit our beautiful valley, while robed in the gorgeous hues of
Autumn. Mr. Y---- and I, are arranging everything with reference to
so agreeable an event;--'We will go there, or see that,' we say,
'when Colonel Lunettes comes.' Julia, too, is looking forward, with
much pleasure, to welcoming so coveted a guest. 'I hope we shall be
able to make the Colonel _comfortable_, in our quiet way,' she
always says, when speaking of your promised visit; 'you, and Mr.
Y----, are so used to have the bishop, and other celebrities, that
you don't know anything about being nervous, at such times; but
poor me--just beginning, and such a novice!' Upon this, her husband
always appeals to me, to say whether I have nicer things to eat,
anywhere, 'even at home,' and whether any sensible man could not
content himself, even in such a 'little box,' for a few days, at
least; especially, when well assured how happy and honored a
certain young lady will be, on the occasion. And I must say, for
Julia, that her versatile powers are fully illustrated in her
housekeeping. Mr. Y---- declares that nobody _but_ his wife can
make such bread--a perfect cure for dyspepsia! and, as for the
pumpkin-pies!--well, upon the whole, he has decided that we ought
to spend _Thanksgiving_ at 'Cosey Cottage.'
"I have omitted to mention that, at Julia's earnest instance, we
left her little namesake--'Colonel Lunettes' pet,' as she delights
to call herself--with her, when we were there. I hardly knew how to
give her up, though but for a few weeks, even to her aunt. Just
before we came away, I said to her, 'I hope Aunt Julia, and Uncle
St. John, won't spoil you, my darling; your aunt has promised to
scold you, when you are naughty.' 'Oh, but 'ou see, mamma, I don't
never mean to _be_ naughty,' she answered, almost stopping my
breath with her little chubby arms clinging about my neck.
"Persuaded, dear sir, that you will have 'supped your full,' even
to repletion, of a 'true woman's letter,' I will only add to Mr.
Y----'s kindest remembrances and regards, the sincere assurance
that I am, as ever,
"Your attached and grateful
"CECILIA D. Y----.
"COL. HENRY LUNETTES."
And now, my dear nephews, that the blessing of Heaven may rest upon you,
always, in
"Life's earnest toil and endeavor,"
is the affectionate and heartfelt prayer and farewell of your
UNCLE HAL.
THE END.
Transcriber's Note
I have used "=" to denote use of underlined text.
Inconsistencies have been retained in formatting, spelling,
hyphenation, punctuation, and grammar, except where indicated
in the list below: