Spr. Generalities, my dear sir,-pleasing generalities. But people don't live by generalities,-must stoop to details. See a good dinner all very clear at a glance, that's a generality; but can't fill your stomach unless you fix on your dish and take a mouthful at a time,—that's a detail, eh? Where will you begin? what's your first dish?

Bra. I have not yet given this a thought.

Spr. (aside). Hem !-I suspected as much.-Professions now are genteel,—very; but don't begin to pay till about fiveand-forty. It's a long fast from your age till then. Trade wants capital, or credit,—afraid you have not got either.

Bra. But I have my education,-my talents,-my pen.

Spr. (shaking his head). Pen! Pen! Could get you writing perhaps in our office,-seven shillings a-week, and find every thing yourself, except your stool. Ah! I was afraid you would not like that.

Bra. I meant no slavish pen that plies for hire, but that which makes immortal,-literature.

Spr. Easy writing, very hard publishing though. The booksellers won't and you can't. Might write, perhaps, for the magazines and annuals, gratis, if the Duke of This, and Lady Agnes That, and the Honorable Mr. T'other, left you any room and if you kept it up well for a dozen years or so, you might begin to get known, and perhaps a bookseller would publish for you, then, and share the profits,-when you could find them.

Bra. But I have learning, and can communicate the knowledge I have acquired,—a tutor,—

Spr. Better be a footman. He has companions, the tutor has none. The kitchen is too low for him, and the drawingroom too high; and so he flits about by himself in the dusk, like a bat, because he is neither exactly a bird nor a beast.

Bra. Your arguments are sufficiently discouraging; yet I

have such a fund of hope and energy within, that, let me but remove this weight of calumny that presses on my name, and all the rest seems light and easy.

Spr. Hem! but that's difficult, sir, very; particularly if the papers have got it. Could not undertake to get it contradicted, except as an advertisement,—special paragraph,—cost a good deal, and nobody believe it, then. You see a bit of scandal is public property, interests everybody. The contradiction is private property, interests nobody but the one person, and spoils a good story besides. Nothing exciting in a contradiction, could not undertake it without,—I say, you won't think me impertinent, but have you got any,―(slapping his breeches pocket)—any of the ready?

Bra. Some ten or twelve pounds.

Spr. (aside). Ten or twelve pounds!-Quite a little fortune! My dear sir, my dear Mr. Brandon, this requires every attention. When Mr. Oddington heard the report,—

Bra. Mr. Oddington! How! Would you tell me it has reached there?

Spr. Bless your heart, the very first place it went to! That's what I say, you see; the first report is always interesting. A deputation of Mr. Hardman's servants waited on Mr. Oddington's household,

Bra. This is beyond endurance! I'll fly there this instant. Spr. (shakes his head). No go! Did not I mention it? The doors are ordered to be shut against you.

Bra. Condemned without a hearing! I'll,

Spr. Now stop, now stop! You 're so impetuous. I had a thought, but you make me quite nervous.

Bra. What is it?

Spr. There you go,-no patience,-you 're putting it all out of my head.-(Aside.) Ten or twelve pounds! What a comfortable little sum!

Bra. But your thought?

Spr. Bless me, how it's escaping me! Very odd; but when I want to think, I'll tell you what I'm always obliged to do,

Bra. This is torture!

Spr. First I dine. I never can think, do you know, before dinner. By-the-by, have you dined yet? That's a capital house at the corner!

Bra. (impatiently). Pshaw! I shall go mad!

Spr. No, don't! because, when you know what Miss Mortimer said,

Bra. Miss Mortimer! has she too heard of this villainous invention ?

Spr. Did not I tell you ? Bless my heart, there's my throat again! The most extraordinary complaint in my throat, when I talk much! I can't speak another word till I've swallowed an oyster, and you have not dined, you say?

Bra. You shall eat, drink, and swill,-only tell me what Miss Mortimer,

Spr. Upon my life, it's too bad; I would not, on any account, let you pay, only it is not a credit house; and changing my trowsers, I have left my purse at home.

Bra. I will pay any thing,—give any thing! Put me out of this suspense.

Spr. It's really extraordinary,-hem !-hem !-all here! (Putting his hand to his throat). All round!-It's only just at the corner.

Bra. Tell me, but in one word,—

Spr. I can't upon my life, I can't speak a word,—my throat is getting in such a state,—I can't utter a single syllable, till I've.-There, you see,—that's the house,-I'll introduce you.

(Going.)

Bra. But, Miss Mortimer,—

Spr. The doctors say it's the uvula.

Bra. Hang your uvula!

Spr. Oysters, I think, you said, for a whet to begin with?

(Exit.)

Bra. (following). Scoundrel!-tell me what Elinor,what Miss Mortimer,(Rushes after him.)

[G. W. Lovell.

THE ENGLISH TRAVELER.

Traveler. Do you belong to this house, friend?
Landlord. No, it belongs to me, I guess.

Trav.

(The Traveler takes out his memorandum-book, and, in a low voice, reads what he writes.)

"Mem. Yankee landlords do not belong to their houses.' (Aloud.) You seem young for a landlord: may I ask how old you are ?

Land. Yes, if you'd like to know.

Trav. Hem! (Disconcerted.) Are you a native. sir?
Land. No, sir; there are no natives hereabouts.

Trav. "Mem. None of the inhabitants natives; ergo, all foreigners." (Aloud.) Where were you born, sir?

Land. Do you know where Marblehead is?

Trav. Yes.

Land. Well, I was not born there.

Trav. Why did you ask the question, then?

Land. Because my daddy was.

Trav. But you were born somewhere.

Land. That's true; but as father moved up country afore the townships were marked out, my case is somewhat like the Indian's, who was born at Nantucket, Cape Cod, and all along shore.

Trav. Were you brought up in this place, sir?

Land. No; I was raised in Varmount till mother died, and then, as father was good for nothing after that, I pulled up stakes and went to sea a bit.

Trav. "Mem. Yankees, instead of putting up gravestones, pull up stakes, and go to sea, when a parent dies." (Aloud.) You did not follow the sea long, for you have not

the air of a mariner.

Land. Why, you see, I had a leetle knack at the coopering business; and larning that them folks that carry it on in the West Indies die off fast, I calculated I should stand a chance to get a handsome living there?

Trav. And so you turned sailor to get there?

Land. Not exactly; for I agreed to work my passage by cooking for the crew, and tending the dumb critters.

Trav. Dumb critters! Of what was your lading composed?

Land. A leetle of every thing;-horses, hogs, hoop-poles, and Hingham boxes; boards, ingyons, soap, candles, and ile. Trav. "Mem. Soap, candles, and ile, called dumb critters by the Yankees." (Aloud.) Did you arrive there safely? Land. No, I guess we didn't.

Trav. Why not?

Land. We had a fair wind, and sailed a pretty piece, I tell you; but jest afore we reached the eend of our vige, some pirates overhauled us, and stole all our molasses, rum, and gingerbread.

Trav. Is that all they did to you?

Land. No, they ordered us on board their vessel, and promised us some black-strap.

Trav. "Mem. Pirates catch Yankees with a black-strap." (Aloud.) Did you accept the invitation?