R A CHAPTER ON DREARINESS. dishes, and neglected the packing of the 66 "Well, there is not a half hour to spare. Go up-stairs immediately and be ready." But the little maid became disobedient; she moped weeping in the chimney-corner among the pot-hooks, raking the ashes. "What are you about, child?" She was the first servant we ever had, and the labor was not hard, and she had been gently entreated. For it is sometimes disgusting in a household to behold the severity of exaction from a poor little servant-of-all-work. When you have your butler and baker, your pastry-cook, your chamber-maid, your coachman, your footman, your fat and well-fed menials, who keep high-life below-stairs, and waste much substance, have a sharp eye on them in this republican country, and see to it that they do enough. Otherwise they will insult you in your own domicil, and shake a cow-hide over your head. They will have the arrogance to speak good English in your presence, and to vie with you in the choicest phrases of which the language admits. Crop this impudence in the bud. ETURNED from the city the other evening, taking the five o'clock train. It was dismal, cold, dripping weather; the windows of the cars were obscured with drops, and when it became pitch-dark my heart was almost broken. As we passed under the stone bridges, the clatter was enough to drive a nervous man out of his wits. The annoyance of the wet conductors continually demanding your ticket, for which you are obliged to hunt in all your pockets, is excessive. Some people insert their tickets under the rim of their hats. The custom is good on the score of convenience, but it is not pleasant to be thus placarded. When we stopped opposite Newburgh, a "city on a hill," the lights in the factories and mansions shone with a picturesque effect. There I got out, while the mist was chilling in the extreme, and it was as dark as pitch. A long row of soiled carriages stood stuck in the mud. I fumbled my way to the end of a long, narrow platform, about a quarter of a mile, to search for my trunk, which was buried up amid a multitude of trunks, and found it with difficulty. Rode five or six miles in company with five or six" damp strangers," and alighted at last at my own door. The house was shut up, and, like the "halls of Balclutha, it was desolate." After stumbling over chairs, I managed to find a lucifer match, and drawing it in a long lucid train, like that of a comet, over the kitchen wall, it oozed out at last in a blue flower of sulphureous flame, and, feebly simmering, went out. Struck anoth-yourself when the bell rings, that those er on the stove-pipe with better success. The cheerlessness of the vacant mansion was made apparent. "Fel-o-erah!" I cried, with tender reminiscence. This leads one to mention a sketch or two of domestic adventure. FLORA. At the same time, if you have only one poor little maid-servant, do not imagine that she is butler, baker, housekeeper, cook, chambermaid, coachman, footman; and that you can set up to live in style. Learn to wait a little on yourself, if you cannot pay for being waited upon. Shut up your windows at night, and black your own boots in the morning. Go frequently upon your own errands. Open the door outside may not stand for ten minutes while they hear a voice within imperiously, from the stair-landing, summoning the poor little maid-servant from the garret, or from the "cellar-kitchen," "to go and see who is there." She receives little, and then she is ordered about from sunrise till late at night to do this and to do that; to go here and to go there; to lift We had dismissed our little servant-heavy weights and draw heavy burdens; maid before departing. The fiat had gone forth against her she was not available in household affairs. "Fel-o-erah," I said, "you must leave us. You are a good girl, but you are too young. Pack your chest, and when the coach arrives be ready to go with me. You have had a month's warning." But Felora continued sedulously employed in the washing of to run up-stairs, and to hurry into the cellar; to go over to the next neighbor's; to bring a pitcher of water, another, another, another, another, another! if it be hot weather; to wash, and to iron, and to cook; and to break her little heart in attempting to do all things, and to be remunerated with nothing but sour looks and a severe scolding. name-and after the rasping of innumerable matches against a piece of rough the sole of my boot, managed to ignite the study lamp. It would not burn until I had trimmed the wick, and poured water into it, which sank duly to the bottom, the oil-wave coming uppermost. Then the room became a little cheerful, and the gilded superscription of the books on the shelves visible. The names of Rabelais, Swift, Sterne, Shakspeare, Charles Lamb, and others, glared out. My pipe lay upon the table, containing still a smoking pinch of Scarfalatti. For comfort sake I put it into my mouth and smoked it. My pen lay where I had left it, rusted down on the mahogany board, and a little ink remained in the font. I took it up and wrote with it as if it had been a relic of bygone ages. Over the table hung a fine, almost invisible, silken thread, at the end of which, between me and the lamp, was suspended a little spider, who, with nautical endeavor, began to climb. With my thumb and forefinger I broke the thread asunder, and snapped the spider on the floor. I never like to crush a spider, nor to clear away with the besom of destruction the network which he has woven in the room corners. It is a trap for the nauseous and disgusting fly, for the spiteful and vindictive hornet. When you have innocently laid your hand on some book or cushion, and have been stung by one of these, how gratifying to see him presently entangled in a web, while the agile little insect comes down the ropes, and with his delicate fingers "Fel-o-e-rah, are you ready? The coach is coming." 66 A-yes, sir ;" and she comes down the steep garret-stairs, hold-paper, and (that proving of no avail) on ing in her arms a little box containing her worldly goods; her tidy bonnet is fastened by a blue ribbon beneath her chin, and her pretty English cheeks red with weeping. Flora almost positively refused to go, but stopped on this side of actual disobedience; and submission when it did come came like a virtue, and caused me to feel like turning a suppliant out of doors. Florencha (that was her name) went to take her last look at the chickens. She had fed my Shanghais with singular ability, but, alas! she was not endued by nature with mental qualifications, which was no fault of the poor child's; nor was her memory tenacious of instruction. I returned her in safety to the paternal roof. When I returned to my own vacant house on the aforesaid rainy night, my heart almost smote me. There was a tender pathos in the silent kitchen: the disposition of all things gave indication of a hasty departure; it was a reminiscence of Florencha: the night-lamp crusted with a sooty crown; the party-colored beans arranged upon a board on a barrel; the expressive broom standing in a corner; the Indian meal in a saucer; last meal given to the Shanghai chickens! The stove-pipe looked very black, and the stove very cold and dismal. And there, on the mantle-piece, was the forgotten prayer-book, forgotten in the hurry of departure, with a leaf turned down at the catechism. Every Sunday evening I used to say, (she was a mere child,)" Fel-o-o-winds him round and round, and pinions e-rah, have you learned your lesson ?" his arms, struggle as he will! "A-yes, sir." "Let me hear you. What is your name ?" "N. ΟΙ M." "O no, what is your Christian name?" "Flora Fairchild." "Yes, Fairchild is your parents' name; what name was given to you in baptism?" "Florencha." "That is right. Fel-o-o-o-er-re-e-en-cha! now tell me," etc. To return to a dark, and dead, and desolate abode, is like going into the chambers of Herculaneum and Pompeii. In the hurry of events, and refreshing influ- | ence of a change of scene, you have taken no note of time since your departure, and on returning home you feel as if you had been gone a long time. I went into my study-my library, if the room is worthy to be called by such a THE VALETUDINARIAN. "M," I said, "I have brought you to a cold, dreary house!" I must tell you that I have been fool enough to bring a friend to my house, and he an invalid man. Sitting in the cars I espied him, and with a devilish selfishness said, "I will have that man to share with me the dreariness of this cold and misty night." I walked up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Ah!" said he. "Come," said I, in a chirping tone of concealed hypocrisy, "and make my house your home. There is nobody there, but we will have a good time of it. You are going to the Point. Never mind, come with me." In a moment of delusion the infatuated man agreed. After we had conversed for a few minutes in the study, we began to feel cold. "Now," said I, "we must have a rousing fire, and a cup of hot tea that will make us feel better. Excuse me for a moment; amuse yourself till I return. I will step over and ask Palmer to come and kindle a good fire, and help me along. All will be right." "Well," said he. Palmer is my right-hand man. There is an old farm-house about fifty yards off. It used to be a tavern in the Revolutionary War. It has settled a good deal within the last hundred years; that is to say, the walls, the floors, and the beams, are sunken very much from the horizontal line observable in the floor of a bowling-alley; and the chimneys look weather-beaten. Still it is a stout and substantial old house; and there is no doubt that it would last, with a little more patching, another hundred years. There is a long piazza in front of it, which is much sunken, and in the yard an oldfashioned well, which has afforded drink to cattle and men for a century and more. The waters are still transcendently sweet and lucid. When the summer heats raged in the past August, I used to stop and imbibe, taking my turn out of the tin cup with the itinerating peddler, who had unburdened his back of the wearisome load, and placed it beside the trough. Your wine of a good vintage may make the eyes glisten a little at the tables of luxury, but depend upon it, a well of water, pure water, gushing up by the wayside, to the weary and heavy-laden, is drink indeed. As I ascended the steps of the piazza, I observed that there was a single mold candle burning within, and knocked confidently at the door of the house. It was opened. "Is Palmer within ?" "No; John is absent. He will be gone over Sunday." Alas! alas! I turned on my heel, opened the garden-gate, and finding the path through the peach-trees with some difficulty on the misty night, went back to the forlorn study. My invalid friend looked dismal enough. "Come," said I, slapping him on the back very gently, (to have done it roughly on the present emergency would have been to insult him ;) "we have to take care of ourselves. What is more easy? We must flare up. We must have a little light, a little fire. My next-door neighbor is away. That makes not the least difference." With that I lighted the astral lamp-no, the globe-lamp-a contemptible affair, which is a disgrace to the inventor. You raise the wick as high as possible before it will shed any light at all. In a moment it glares out, and presently becomes dim, filling your apartment with suffocating smoke and soot. Confound the lamp, with its brazen shaft and marble pedestal! I could with a good will dash it on the floor. I remembered that there was an abundance of shavings under the shed. Going out, I collected an armful, and rammed them into the kitchen stove, put in a few chips, and a stick or two of wood, and applied a match. Then I took the teakettle, and tramping to the well, filled it with water, placed it upon the stove, and it presently bubbled. Took down a caddy of black tea. After a while I found a loaf of stale bread, which makes excellent toast. In three quarters of an hour, during which I spent the time in purgatory, I returned to the study and said, touching my friend on the shoulder, "Tea is ready." We went into the kitchen and sat down. I said grace. The lamp smoked, the fire burned poorly, the tea was cold, my friend shivered; and I afterward heard that he said that I seemed to think that the globelamp was both light and warmth. The ungrateful wretch! After tea, the first natural impulse was to get warm, and still keep ourselves alive. My friend behaved extremely well, all things considered; and as the stove wanted replenishing with shavings every five minutes, he acted once or twice as a volunteer on this mission. He tried to be cheerful, but his visage looked sad. "How stern of lineament, how grim!" For my part, I could not but enjoy an inward chuckle, like one who has the best of a bargain in the purchase of a horse. People come to your house to be entertained. In the hands of your hospitality they are like dough, to be molded into any shape of comfort. They fairly lay themselves out to be feted, and feasted, and flattered, and soothed, and comforted, and tucked in at night. They enjoy for the time being a luxurious irresponsibility. With what composure do they lounge in your arm-chair, and lazily troll their eyes over the pictures in your show-books! How swingingly they saunter on your porch or in your garden, with their minds buoyant as thistle-down, lightly inhaling the aromatic breeze, fostered by all whom they meet, and addressing all in lady-tones. Bless their dear hearts, how they do grind their teeth for dinner! Dinner! Sometimes it is no easy matter to get up a dinner. While they are in this opiate state, the man of the house is in cruel perplexity, and beef-steaks are rare. O! it is a rich treat and triumph, now and then, to have these fellows on the hip; to see them put to some little exertion to conceal their feelings, when they have expected all exertion to be made on the other part; to scan their physiognomy, and to read their thoughts as plainly as if printed in the clearest and most open type: "This does not pay. You will not catch me in this scrape again. I will go where I can be entertained better." I say that I enjoy their discomfiture, and consider it (if it happen rarely) a rich practical joke. It is entirely natural, and in accordance with correct principles, that they should feel exactly as they do. Does it not agree with what I have already said? Constituted as we are, there must be the outward and visible sign to stir up the devotion of the heart. Your grace of warm welcome will not do. Give your friend a good dinner, or a glass of wine; let the fire be warm and bright. Then he will come again; otherwise not. It is human nature; at any rate, it is my nature. Here, however, we draw the line of distinction. If your friend thinks more of the animal than of the spiritual; if he neglects any duty, undervalues any friendship, because the outward is poor, meager, of necessity wanting, call him your friend no more! "Let us go to bed," said I. "Done," said he. "No, not done. The beds are to be made. There is no chambermaid in the house. What of that? Excuse me for a moment while you ram a few more shavings into the stove." I go upstairs into the spare chamber. I can find nothing. After a half-hour's work, I manage, however, to procure pillow-cases, sheets, blankets. I go down-stairs and tap my shivering friend on the shoulder, and say, chirpingly, "Come, you must go to your snuggery, your nest. You will sleep like a top, and feel better in the morning." I get him into bed, and after his nightcap is on, and his head upon the pillow, I say, Good-night; pleasant dreams to you." 66 "Good-night," he responded, with a feeble smile. Then I tumbled into my own bed, which was made up anyhow, looking out first on the moon just rising above the fogs. O! thou cold, dry, brassy moon! do not shine into my chamber when I want repose. Phoebe, Diana, Luna, call thee by whatever name, let not thy pale smile be cast upon my eyes! If so, sweet sleep is gone, and pleasant dreams. Out, out, out with thy skeleton face, O volcanic, brassy moon! When the morrow came, I went into my friend's chamber, and, as if he had been a king or a prince, asked him how he had rested during the night, and if the coverlets had kept him warm. He was compelled to say, as he was a man of strict veracity, that he had been a little cold. The undiscriminating varlet! I had given him all the blankets in the house. It was Sunday morning. A Sunday in the country is a theme on which my invalid friend, who is an author, had expatiated with wonderful effect in one of his books. When he came down-stairs, as the shavings were not yet lighted, I took him by the arm, and proposed a walk on the grass. But the grass was wetted by copious dews. He returned chilled, and hovered over the cold stove. It was nearly time for breakfast, but I had not given him a word of encouragement on that point. Breakfast was a puzzler. All of a sudden, striking my hand on my forehead, as if in the elicitment of a bright idea, I rushed out of the kitchen, crossed the little garden, and knocked at the door of the old farm-house. The face of the good landlady was forthwith visible. "Madame," I said, "I am in a little quandary. I have a friend with me; besides ourselves there is nobody and nothing in the house. Will you have the kindness to provide us breakfast, dinner, and tea to-day?" 66 She most obligingly consented. In half an hour I conducted the author triumphantly to the old mansion. The clean white table-cloth was spread; the room was as warm as toast," and my friend's spirits revived. We went to church. His responses were heartfelt and audible. On returning, the walk made his blood circulate a little, and as he sat in the rockingchair in the old farm-house, waiting for the broiled chicken, and looking up at the whitewashed beams, he was the picture I was almost provoked VEGETABLE DISTRIBUTION. of contentment. with myself for getting him into such a comfortable fix. We had seated ourselves O every part of the earth has its own at the table, and were pleasantly, I think I peculiar vegetation been given; vegemay say luxuriously, engaged in empick-tation suited to its climate and its soil, and ing of chicken-bones, when a remarkable in a very striking manner to the requireincident occurred. It was observed that there was not a drop of water in the pitcher. This was an oversight. The landlady, with the kindest alacrity, hurried to the ancient well; and she had just opened the door on her return, when, putting down the pitcher, and wringing her hands, she cried out, ments of its inhabitants. The traveler can tell, as he passes from country to country, how one class of plants succeeds to another; from the brilliant and luxuriant plants of the tropical climates, to the stunted mosses and lichens of the frozen regions, he perceives each has its native home. The temperature of the climate in "O! quick! quick! do come! do come! every situation is so well adapted to the The fox! the fox! the fox!" We deserted the dinner-table in an instant, ran out on the piazza, and O! what a sight! Within a few yards, within pistol-shot, a splendid, sanctimonious, sly reynard glided with a mouse-foot pace, crouching as he went, out of the neighboring green patch, leaped softly over the stone-wall, crossed the road, and took a zig-zag course through the opposite cornfield, waving his brown tail, which was of the most extensive kind. That well-being of the plants found there, that, The provocation was most intense. Mister Palmer, his hair standing on end, rushed to the house-corner, and called his black dog. "Here, Boos! Boos! Boos! Boos!" But Boos was barking at an ill-be in existence together. Vegetables, like looking customer who just at that predicament of time tried to open the gate. He seized him (Boos) by the collar; he dragged him up the road, but the latter was altogether behind.the age. Although he did not succeed in striking the scent, his master assured me that if he had once got a sight of the animal, he would have collared him. In about fifteen minutes after this, a couple of spotted hounds, hunting | on their own hook, and on the Sabbathday, leaped over the wall, and went nosing about to the right and left, hither and thither, through the corn-field, and we heard them yelping until sun-down. The fox escaped. The next morning my friend went away. I cannot say that he felt very sad at parting with me; nay, I thought that his face brightened up into a genial smile as the coach drew near, and that there was something concentrated in his expression as he gave the house a parting glance, like that of one who bids farewell to the hard rocks and inhospitable coast on which he has been shipwrecked. | animals, are distributed where their own requirements abound, and wherever they can be subservient to the wants of man and other creatures. The low plants, whose close, firm leaves are fitted to resist the cold and searching winds of lofty mountains, inhabit the most elevated situations; while the more luxuriant vegetation is found in more sheltered places. In the variety of plants which are dependent for support on those of firmer nature, the gradation is no less remarkable. The dwarf mosses and lichens, which attach themselves to trees in colder climates, form, indeed, a remarkable contrast to the exuberant growth of the tropical parasites. The variety and luxuriance of these plants, with their multitudes of flowers and of fruits, are often so entwined together, that it is almost impossible to find the parent stem of each; to the unaccustomed eye, they wear the appearance of enchantment. Grass, which yields the greatest support to man and various living creatures, is more largely supplied than any other vegetable; it is constantly springing up; and there is |