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by our new lamp, which attracted universal admiration. The Italian views became the chief subject of attention, but alas! as our guests crowded around the table it was suddenly overthrown, and the lamp shattered to pieces. Satin slippers and gentlemen's pumps received the indiscriminate shower of oil, and the beautiful engravings coming in for a share, a young beau, who never lost a pun, even in calamity, whispered to me that they were “ oil paintings."
A general shock was given to our before complacent group; first were circulated whispered complaints and commiseration, then in a louder tone followed details of similar naisfortunes, and recipes for extracting them.
I contrived to affect great indifference, and Edward got up his best jokes, but after a struggle at general sociability the company retired, and left us, at an earlier period than we expected, gazing on the wreck.
It is easy to preserve a sweet smile in the presence of fifty people, but the test of good nature follows in a tête-à-tête.
“What an awkward wretch that Mason is," said Edward. “I wish people would not go into society until they are civilized !"
“I am surprised at your blaming Mr. Mason," said I. “It was Miss Otis who knocked over the table—that girl thinks she must be first in every thing."
“Mrs. Packard, I am confident that it was Mr. Mason," returned Edward. .
“Mr. Packard,” replied I, “ I saw Miss Otis do it with my own eyes."
.“Women are always obstinate," said he, turning away.
“And men are always domineering," I answered, in the same tone.
There ended our first party, and began our first quarrel; but it seemed so odd, that turning round, our eyes met, and we burst out into unaffected laughter.
I will not enter into a detail of similar misfortunes. Who has not, after long deliberation, purchased a set of expensive lanıps, only to suffocate himself or his friends with smoke ?
Who has not heard his glass shades pop one after another, with a report as harassing as the small arms of an enemy? Who has not welcomed “the tall mould candle straight and round," while the costly lamp, that gave for five minutes a gleam of light, is
But I have other themes of varied trouble to relate. One commencement day a large party assembled to dine with us, after the college exercises. - Edward had presented me with a new silk dress. It was a rare and important addition to my wardrobe, and I made my toilet with many resolutions to be careful of it. As I sat at the table, with the consciousness of a well-ordered dinner and an appropriate dress, whose value to me was doubly enhanced by its being Edward's choice, one of the waiters, with a zeal worthy of a better cause, jostled by another, who was reaching above my shoulder to deposite a gravy-boat, and knocked it over. I felt the warm stream trickle through my lace tippet, and saw it pour into my lap. Selon la règle, I was obliged either not to notice or make a jest of it. I had the resolution not to look at the servant (how often have I seen looks speak more than words !) and turning quietly to my left-hand neighbour, I said, “ Pray, sir, excuse my being helped first."
A short period only elapsed before Edward was called upon to sympathize with me in a similar experience. Being invited to a ceremonious party, he mounted a new coat. I could perceive considerable complacency in his manner of pulling down the waist and turning out the collar. He was in excellent spirits through the evening, and on his return said, laughing,
* Either I or my new coat was a great favourite this evening, for my friends certainly regarded me with uncommon interest.”
“ And well they might!" I exclaimed, in alarm, on looking at him, " for you have half of one of Mrs. Winthrop's candles 'streaming down from your collar to your elbow."
Poor Edward was thrown all aback. “Hang it,” said he, quite off his guard, “I can interpret their looks now. They could not quite resolve to tell me what a figure I cut, and I thought they were admiring my genteel person, while I was strutting about with the sign of a tallow-chandler on my shoulder.” .
Speaking of a new coat reminds me of an anecdote of Mr. Shaw, a literary friend of ours. In the pride of his heart he too put on a coat fresh from the tailor's, to attend a party, and while bowing to the ladies, an acquaintance tapping him on the shoulder said, “Shaw, your coat was very reasonable," pointing at the same time to the tailor's mark, which was pinned conspicuously on the skirt.
When albums were first in vogue, a choice one was sent us for our contributions. I have always loved albums, much as they have been ridiculed. They seem to me the leading-strings of literature, and it interests me to see the are'. dour of a young lady, when, opening the gilt leaves, she finds there sentiments dedicated to her alone. Wo to him who shall dare to trace