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bobbing courtesies), until she obtained the sought-for notice. Finding her incorrigible to hints, I told her, as she was using one evening the whole artillery of her politeness on Judge a friend of my husband's, that she might go out. She opened her great gray eyes wider than ever, and said, somewhat gruffly, "I ain't a goin to let his honour s'pose I was brought up mungst wild criters.” His honour, who had been stating a case of great interest, roused by her voice, perceived her for the first time, and said, with perfect good-nature, " Ah, how d'ye do?" and Cinda set him down from that moment as a gentleman; and so he was. It is that immediate conformity to the feelings of individuals that marks a gentleman or lady, whether they address their equals or inferiors.

One morning, in my absence from home, a lady called to see me, and Cinda, from sheer curiosity, anticipated little Polly in going to the door.

“Is Mrs. Packard within ?" said the lady.
“No, ma'am,” said Cinda, with great prompt-

ness, "but you'd better come in and set with me a spell."

I met my intended guest at the gate, and could not account for her look of ill-suppressed mirth, until Cinda gave me a hint of what she called manners in her reception.

Another peculiarity of Cinda's was to examine every new purchase of mine, and ask the price, and sometimes the ornaments of my visiters did not escape this ordeal. I was getting somewhat wearied with these oddities, notwithstanding her skill in washing, hanging on pots and kettles, and all the drudgery of her calling, when one evening a few ladies visited me, and Cinda, after sufficient drilling, undertook to hand tea, solemnly promising me not to address them. As she passed from one to another, I felt a little anxiety at the look of scrutiny she cast, from the head downward, on every

individual. Her appearance began to attract the attention of my friends, but she preserved silence, until, at the close of the service, 2 very sweet-looking girl bent her blue eye upon


Cinda with a smile. The temptation was irresistible. She had an empty tray in her hand, and lowering it suddenly, said, “I guess, miss, them 'ere beads of your'n cost considerable." The younger ladies thrust their pocket-handkerchiefs into their mouths, and the elder ones stared, while Cinda, catching my eye, and perceiving a frown, cried out, “Lud, Miss Packard, if I ain't spoke in the party;" and then, with a look of greater horror, “Lud, lud, I've spoke agin !" then catching up the tray, she retreated in confusion.

It was impossible for the most rigid muscles to refrain from laughter. The shouts reached poor

Cinda's ears in her culinary domain, and it required all the inducements I could urge to prevail on her to carry the tray again.

Curiosity, which seemed to be her masterpassion, prompted her to try on the garments of others. A French lady from St. Domingo, for whom Edward was employed in a law-suit, came to pass a few days with me. Her dress was fashionable in the extreme. It was Cin

da's province to arrange the bed-rooms while we breakfasted. Mam'selle Ligne had occasion to leave the table one morning in quest of her handkerchief, and her light step was unperceived by Cinda, who stood before the glass. She had placed on her carroty locks Mam'selle Ligne's beautiful evening cap, and thrown a slight scarf over her shoulders ; and there she stood, with an air of the most complacent satisfaction, gazing at her own charms. The joke was too good to be lost. Mam’selle tripped down, and asking Edward and myself to follow, we all went up softly, ignorant of what we were to behold.

Human gravity could not hold out at such a spectacle. Edward gave one of those laughs through his nose that always sound louder than a natural one, and poor Cinda started in dismay at beholding us. She took off the scarf in her hurry, but forgot the cap, which was of a very light material, and began making up the bed with great zeal.

Just at this crisis the butcher knocked at the

outer door, and Cinda, glad to escape, raced down, cap and all, to receive him. “Holla, Cinda," said he, "are you setting that 'ere cap at me ?". This was too much for Cinda's nerves. She caught up the leg of lamb he had extended to her, and running into the kitchen, hid her blushes in her check apron.

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