fortune that way, though I can't much boast of my success. I made my first addresses to a young lady in the country; but when I thought things were pretty well drawing to a conclusion, her father happening to hear that I had formerly boarded with a surgeon, the old put forbid me his house, and within a fortnight after married his daughter to a fox-hunter in the neighborhood. I made my next application to a widow, and attacked her so briskly, that I thought myself within a fortnight of her. As I waited upon her one morning, she told me, that she intended to keep her ready money and jointure in her own hand, and desired me to call upon her attorney in Lions-Inn, who would adjust with me what it was proper for me to add to it. I was so rebuffed by this overture, that I never inquired either for her or her attorney afterwards. A few months after I addressed myself to a young lady who was an only daughter, and of a good family: I danced with her at several balls, squeezed her by the hand, said soft things to her, and in short made no doubt of her heart; and tho' my fortune was not equal to hers, I was in hopes that her fond father would not deny her the man she had fixed her affections upon. But as I went one day to the house in order to break the matter to him, I found the whole family in confusion, and heard to my unspeakable surprise, that Miss Jenny was that morning run away with the butler. very her relations had not come pouring in to her assistance from all parts of England; nay, I believe I should have got her at last, had not she been carried off by a hard frost. As Will's transitions are extremely quick, he turned from Sir Roger, and applying himself to me, told me there was a passage in the book I had considered last Saturday, which deserved to be writ in letters of gold; and taking out a pocket-Milton, read the following lines, which are part of one of Adam's speeches to Eve after the fall. To a fell adversary, his hate or shame; found. Sir Roger listened to this passage with great attention, and desiring Mr. Honeyand lend him his book, the Knight put it comb to fold down a leaf at the place, would read over those verses again before up in his pocket, and told us that he he went to bed. I then courted a second widow, and am at a loss to this day how I came to miss her, for she had often commended my person and behavior. Her maid indeed told me one day, that her mistress had said she never saw a gentleman with such a spindle pair of legs as Mr. Honeycomb. After this I laid siege to four heiresses successively, and being a handsome young dog in those days, quickly made a breach in their hearts; but I don't know how it came to pass, though I seldom failed of getting the daughter's consent, I could never in my life get the old people on my CHAPTER XXVI. SIR ROGER PASSETH side. I could give you an account of a thousand other unsuccessful attempts, particularly of one which I made some years since upon an old woman, whom I had certainly borne away with flying colors, if AWAY. Heu pietas! heu prisca fides !-VIRG. WE last night received a piece of ill news at our club, which very sensibly afflicted every one of us. I question not but my readers themselves will be troubled | would go to see justice done to a poor at the hearing of it. To keep them no widow woman, and her fatherless chillonger in suspense, Sir Roger de Coverley is dead. He departed this life at his house in the country, after a few weeks sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a letter from one of his correspondents in those parts, that informs him the old man caught a cold at the county-sessions, as he was very warmly promoting an address of his own penning, in which he succeeded according to his wishes. But this particular comes from a Whig justice of peace, who was always Sir Roger's enemy and antagonist. I have letters both from the chaplain and Captain Sentry which mention nothing of it, but are filled with many particulars to the honor of the good old man. I have likewise a letter from the butler, who took so much care of me last summer when I was at the Knight's house. As my friend the butler mentions, in the simplicity of his heart, several circumstances the others have passed over in silence, I shall give my reader a copy of his letter, without any alteration or diminution. "Honored Sir, Knowing that you was my old master's good friend, I could not forbear sending you the melancholy news of his death, which has afflicted the whole country, as well as his poor servants, who loved him, I may say, better than we did our lives. I am afraid he caught his death the last county-sessions, where he Mr. Addison was so fond of this character that a little before he laid down the Spectator (foreseeing that some nimble gentleman would catch up his pen the moment he quitted it) he said to our intimate friend with a certain warinth in his expression, which he was not often guilty of, "I'll kill Sir Roger that nobody else may murder him." The Bee, p. 26. On this Chalmers sensibly remarks that, "the killing of Sir Roger has been sufficiently accounted for, with out supposing that Addison despatched him in a fit of anger; for the work was about to close, and it appeared necessary to close the club; but whatever difference of opinion there may be concerning this circumstance, it is universally agreed that it produced a paper of transcendent excellence in all the graces of simplicity and pathos. There is not in our language any assumption of character more faithful than that of the honest but ler; nor a more irresistible stroke of nature than the circumstance of the book received by Sir Andrew Free port." VOL. II.-W. 9. dren, that had been wronged by a neighboring gentleman; for you know, Sir, my good master was always the poor man's friend. Upon his coming home, the first complaint he made was, that he had lost his roast-beef stomach, not being able to touch a sirloin, which was served up according to custom; and you know he used to take great delight in it. From that time forward he grew worse and worse, but still kept a good heart to the last. Indeed we were once in great hope of his recovery, upon a kind message that was sent him from the widow lady whom he had made love to the forty last years of his life; but this only proved a lightning before death. He has bequeathed to this lady, as a token of his love a great, pearl necklace, and a couple of silve bracelets set with jewels, which belonged to my good old lady his mother: he has bequeathed the fine white gelding, that he used to ride a hunting upon, to his chaplain, because he thought he would be kind to him, and has left you all his books. He has, moreover, bequeathed to the chaplain a very pretty tenement with good lands about it. It being a very cold day when he made his will, he left for mourning, to every man in the parish, a great frieze coat, and to every woman, a black riding-hood. It was a most moving sight to see him take leave of his poor servants, commending us all for our fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a word for weeping. As we most of us are grown gray-headed in our dear master's service, he has left us pensions and legacies, which we may live very comfortably upon, the remaining part of our days. He has bequeathed a great deal more in charity, which is not yet come to my knowledge, and it is peremptorily said in the parish, that he has left money to build a steeple to the church; for he was heard to say some time ago, that if he lived two years longer, Coverley church should have a steeple to it. The chaplain tells everybody that he made a very out tears. He was buried according to good end, and never speaks of him withhis own directions, among the family of the Coverleys, on the left hand of his father Sir Arthur. The coffin was carried by six of his tenants, and the pall held up by six of the quorum: the whole par 12 ish followed the corpse with heavy hearts, | butler's manner of writing it, gave us such and in their mourning suits, the men in an idea of our good old friend, that upon frieze, and the women in riding hoods. the reading of it there was not a dry eye Captain Sentry, my master's nephew, in the club. Sir Andrew opening the has taken possession of the hall-house, book, found it to be a collection of acts of and the whole estate. When my old Parliament. There was in particular the master saw him a little before his death, act of uniformity, with some passages in he shook him by the hand, and wished it marked by Sir Roger's own hand. Sir him joy of the estate which was falling to Andrew found that they related to two or him, desiring him only to make a good three points, which he had disputed with use of it, and to pay the several legacies, Sir Roger the last time he appeared at the and the gifts of charity which he told him club. Sir Andrew, who would have been he had left as quit-rents upon the estate. merry at such an incident on another The captain truly seems a courteous man, occasion, at the sight of the old man's though he says but little. He makes hand-writing burst into tears, and put the much of those whom my master loved, book into his pocket. Captain Sentry inand shows great kindnesses to the old forms us, that the Knight has left rings house-dog, that you know my poor mas- and mourning for every one in the club. ter was so fond of. It would have gone to your heart to have heard the moans the dumb creature made on the day of my master's death. He has never joyed himself since; no more has any of us. "Twas the melancholiest day for the poor people that ever happened in Worcestershire. This is all from, "Honored Sir, "Your most sorrowful servant, "Edward Biscuit. "P. S.-My master desired, some weeks before he died, that a book which comes up to you by the carrier should be given to Sir Andrew Freeport, in his name.' This letter, notwithstanding the poor 1 The 544th number of the Spectator (Nov. 24th, 1712) contains a letter from the new Esquire, in which he ваув, "I cannot reflect upon his [Sir Roger's] character but I am confirmed in the truth which I have, I think, heard spoken at the club; to wit, that a man of a warm and well-disposed heart, with a very small capacity, is highly superior in human society to him who with the greatest talents is cold and languid in his affections. But, alas! why do I make a difficulty in speaking of my worthy ancestor's failings? His little absurdities and incapacity for the conversation of the politest men are dead with him, and his greater qualities are even now useful to him. I know not whether by naming has left behind him a reputation in his country which would be worth the pains of the wisest man's whole life to arrive at."-"I have continued all Sir Roger's servants except such as it was a relief to dismiss unto little livings within my manor; those who are in a list of the good Knight's own hand to be taken care of by those disabilities I do not enhance his merit, since he me I have quartered upon such as have taken new leases of me, and added so many advantages during the lives of the persons so quartered, that it is the interest END OF SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. A BANKER'S WIT. banker-than the following neat reply of COULD anything be wittier-for a Baron Rothschild, told by Arsêne Houssaye? One of his friends, of the third degree, a sort of banker, came to borrow $2,000. "Here it is," said the baron, lend to crowned heads." M. de Roth"but remember, that as a rule, I only again, but, wonderful to relate, at the schild never dreamed of seeing his money with his $2,000. The baron could scarcely believe his eyes; but he foreboded that this was not the end. Sure enough, a month later the borrower re-appeared, asking for the loan of $4,000. "No, no," said the baron; you disappointed me once by paying me that money. I do not want to be disappointed again." end of a month the borrower came back 66 THE first dandy was made by Dame Nature, out of the refuse matter left from making Adam and Eve. He was concocted with a bouquet in one hand and a His heart looking-glass in the other. was dissected in the thirteenth century, and found to be a pincushion full of butterflies and sawdust. He never falls in love, for to love requires both brains and a soul, and the dandy has neither. He is a long-lived bird; he has no courage, never of those whom they are joined with to cherish and be- marries, has no virtues, and is never guilty friend them on all occasions." of first-class vices.-JOSH BILLINGS. LEGAL ANECDOTES. THE LAWYERS AND THE CAT. Two Arkansas lawyers were domesticated in the rude hotel of a country town. The hotel was crowded, and the room allotted to our heroes was also occupied by six or eight others. Shake down beds, enough to accommodate the guests, were disposed about the room, against the four walls, leaving an open space in the centre of the apartment. Judge Clark lay with his head to the north, on one side, and Judge Thomas lay with his head to the south, on the other side of the room. So far as that room was concerned, it might be said that their heads represented the north and south poles respectively. All the other beds in the room were occupied. The central part of the room was deemed neutral ground, in which the occupants of the different beds had equal rights. Here, in picturesque confusion, lay the boots, hats, coats, and breeches of the sleepers. There were no windows, and though the door was open, there being no moon, the night was very dark in that room. The wily lawyers, who had been opposing counsel in a case tried in the town court that day, and had opposed each other with the contumacity of wild pigs, were now the very incarnations of meekness, for when the hungry swarm of mosquitoes settled down and bit them on the cheek they slowly turned the other to be bitten also. But hush! hark! "No, he's on your side," said Clark. "Ye-ow-ow-ow!" "There I told you he was on your side," they both exclaimed in a breath. And still the howl went on. The idea now entered the heads of both the lawyers, that by the exercise of a cer tain strategy they might be enabled to execute a certain flank movement on the cat, and totally demoralize him. Practically each determined to file "a motion to quash" the cat's attachment for that room. Each kept his plan to himself, and in the dark, unable to see each other, prepared for action. Strange as it may appear, it is nevertheless true, that the same plan suggested itself to both. In words, the plan would be about as follows: The yowler is evidently looking and calling for another cat, with whom he has made an appointment. I will imitate a cat, and this cat will think t'other cat's around. This cat will come toward me, and when he shall have arrived within reach, I'll blaze away with anything I can get hold of, and knock the mew-sic out of him. So each of the portly judges, noiselessly as cream comes to the surface of the milk, hoisted himself on to his hands and knees, and hippopotamus fashion advanced to the neutral ground occupying the central portion of the room. Arriving there Judge Clark selected a boot-jack, and Judge Thomas a heavy cow hide boot from the heap, and settled themselves down to the work. Clark tightened his grip on the bootjack, and throwing up his head, gave vent to a prolonged and unearthly "ye-ow-ow" that would have reflected credit upon ten A deep sound strikes the ear like a of the largest kind of cats. rising knell. Me-ow-ow!" Judges Clark and Thomas were wide awake, and sitting bolt upright in an in stant. Again the startling cry! "Ye-ow, ye-ow!" "That's a cat!" whispered Clark. "Scat you!" hissed Thomas. Cat paid no attention to these demonstrations, but gave vent to another yowl. "Oh, gracious!" cried Clark, "I can't stand this! Where is he, Thomas?" "On your side of the room somewhere," replied Thomas. "Aha," thought Thomas, who was not six feet away, "he's immediately close around. Now I'll inveigle him!" and he gave the regular dark-night call of a feminine cat. Each of the judges advanced a little closer, and Clark produced a questioning "Ow-ow!" Thomas answered by a reassuring "purow-purow!" and they advanced a little more. They were now within easy reach, and each imagining the cat had but a moment more to live, whaled away, the one with his boot, the other with his boot-jack. The boot took Clark square in the mouth, demolishing his teeth, and the boot-jack came down on Thomas's head just as he was in the midst of a triumphant "ye-ow!" When the lights were brought the cat had disappeared, but the catastrophe was in the opposite corners of the room, with heels in the air, swearing blue streaks. lenge to mortal combat; before I can accept it, I insist that you shall have at least one quality of a gentleman, viz., be habited in a clean shirt, which desirable article I send you by the honest bearer of this note. Thus strengthened in your social position by a single quality that makes you worthy of my notice, I will then proceed to arrange farther preliminaries." It is useless to say that the duel did not take place. AN AMERICAN RIVAL TO CURRAN. 66 CURRAN'S witticism in furnishing the motto Quid rides" for the carriage of a rich tobacconist was equaled-to our mind surpassed-by one from S. H. Hammond, formerly District Attorney of Albany County, New York. In the city of Albany, where the court is held, there used to be in the Circuit Court a venerable old crier, who had held the office for many years, and was a universal favorite with the bar. He was always courteous and obliging, and among his voluntary ex-officio duties was that of supplying the lawyers with tobacco out of a well-filled box which he always carried. When S. H. Hammond closed his last term as District Attorney in Albany County, as an acknowledgment of the kindly services of the ancient crier, he presented him with an elegant silver tobacco-box, on which was engraven this motto: NOVEL REPLY TO A CHALLENGE. SARGENT S. PRENTISS was no duelist on principle, but he accepted the custom as it prevailed in his day in Mississippi as a necessity, and acted accordingly. As he rose in his profession he, of course, made business and political enemies, and, as a last resort to put him down, recourse was had to the laws of honor." Being a "Yankee," in the Southern acceptation of the word, it was presumed that "he would not fight;" and if he refused, it was held that, as he would be disgraced, his overwhelming influence would be lost. To make the whole thing as unpalatable as possible to Mr. Prentiss, a wretched creature who lived in Vicksburg, who, though once respectable, had lost every thing but a certain physical courage that made him willing to take the chances of a duel with a man of brilliant character who had never fired a pistol, was selected to presume an insult and send a challenge. Upon receiving the "message" Mr. Prentiss at once comprehended the depth of the plot; he was expected to bear the degradation of not only "backing down," but the additional mortification of doing it to an individual who was socially beneath contempt. Having read the challenge attentively, he said he would return an answer at the proper time. The following morning Mr. Prentiss made up a bundle, with a letter neatly tied on the outside, and by the hands of his servant sent it to the challenger. The principal and his friends were confounded at such a proceeding. "Certainly," said they, "Mr. Prentiss must be profoundly ignorant of the laws of honor,' else he would not send an answer to a challenge by the hands of a nigger;" but the reading of the note set the matter at rest. It read as follows: "Mr., I have received your chal-comprehension of, and rigid adherence to, "Quid pro quo." Mr. Hammond was once trying a ease before Judge Bacon, of the Fifth Judicial District (New York), and in questioning a witness named Gunn, said to him when he had finished his examination, "Mr. Gunn you can go off." Judge Bacon saw the pun, and quickly added, "Yes, Mr. Gunn, you are discharged." Of course there was an explosion in court. A "HUNG JURY. AMONG the dispensers of justice in a certain central ward of old St. Louis, during its unpretending, even-handed" days, was Squire W His astute |