To most men this systematic forbearance will seem improbable, yet, certain it is, that Ayrtoun went through the whole probation with the fortitude described, and actually dined and drank wine with his wife before he disclosed his discovery, which, however, he at length did in such a complete manner as to leave her no room of doubting her detection.
Upon being thus discovered and upbraided, instead of whining and begging forgiveness, our little heroine, with a degree of candour not usually met with in the sex, honestly confessed her frailty, which she avowed was irresistible. She declared above board that Ayrtoun never did much more than raise passions which he could not sufficiently gratify, and that, however the world might condemn or censure her upon the matter being disclosed, he only was to blame, for that if he had been what he ought to be, she would have remained virtuous.
If this declaration was vexatious, it was at the same time, as before observed, honest. Ayrtoun from demonstration could not deny the charge; and, therefore, making allowances for all things, he agreed to let the matter not only remain a secret, but to indulge his wife in a continuance of her amour, upon two conditions — first, that she would allow him to be a constant witness to her pleasures; and, second, that in succession to her more favourite lover she would as constantly consent to his less vigorous caresses. And the fact is, that to this day the scene, unknown to any but the three performers, is carried on without intermission.
Deborah fortunately took her flight to Kingdom-come, and the young woman in the "straw," who from jealousy wrote the anonymous letter, has gone into Scotland, of which country she was a native, and where for her own sake she will be silent upon a subject which she could only have known from an intimacy that involved her own shame, namely, from William, him who at that time boasted from vanity what he now from interest conceals.
THE HOBGOBLIN
A young man lately in our town,
He went to bed one night,
He had no sooner laid him down,
But was troubled with a sprite;
So vigorously the spirit stood,
Let him do what he can,
Sure then, he said,
It must be laid,
By woman, not by man.
A handsome maid did undertake,
And into the bed she leap'd;
And to allay the spirit's power,
Full close to him she crept;
She having such a guardian care
Her office to discharge,
She open'd wide her conjuring book,
And laid her leaves at large.
Her office she did well perform,
Within a little space;
Then up she rose, and down he lay,
And durst not show his face.
She took her leave, and away she went,
When she had done the deed;
Saying, "If it chance to come again,
Then send for me with speed."
EPIGRAM
The sovereign Midas, once 'tis said of old, Whate'er he touch'd, could instant change to gold;
Now German Monarchs view their legions dead, And boast their art to draw their gold from lead.
The Duke de R- saw a beautiful girl at a ball at Paris, he sent his aide-de-camp to tell her he would give her fifty guineas for a single hair beneath her eyebrows (meaning her eyelashes, it is presumed). The girl sent her compliments to the Duke, and gave him to understand that she was not a retail merchant, but if his Grace chose to purchase the whole at that price, they were at his service.
Not long ago, a very worthy curate, asking for a living, and as simple as need be, finding that a neighbouring living was vacant, wrote to a gentleman who he thought could forward his pretensions. As his wife was going into that part of the country, he entrusted the letter to her care. The letter was in these words:
"Most worthy Sir,
"Through the 'channel of my wife,' I entreat your endeavour to oblige me. The living of…….. is become vacant, and if you could put me in, I should, God willing, never forget the obligation. My wife will return in two days, and any good wishes and endeavours to serve me, may be communicated, by the blessing of Providence, through her means. I am, amp;c."
The following answer came back:
"Dear Sir,
"Your wife having 'laid before me' the whole matter of your request, I am sorry to tell you the 'thing is filled up'; you cannot be more sorry than I am on this disappointment; but you may depend on it, should another 'opening' present itself, I will 'stand' your friend, amp; Your's, amp;c."
A noble lord, lately married, was observed to bestow more time and attention in examining his bride's estate than might have been expected on his wedding day; but it was natural, that on entering into possession, he should be desirous of surveying the premises.
As the Duke of Sully was going one morning into the chamber of Harry the Fourth of France, he met a lady whom he knew to have been with him on a private account. When Sully came, the King began to complain in a mournful tone,
"Ah, Sully! I have had a fever upon me all this morning, it has but just left me." "I know it, sire," says Sully, "for I met it going away all in green!"
Lady Archer, driving through Pall Mall, exclaimed to her coachman, "Why, John, I cannot make this horse answer the whip." "Tickle him under the a e, and please your ladyship," replied honest John, "and you will be sure to make him feel."
PITTY PAT
Pitty pat, pitty pat, went my heart,
When Damon first his suit preferr'd,
He squeez'd my hand, nor would he part
Till all his tender tales I heard -
Those tales were so pleasing,
I could not but hear,
And still he kept squeezing,
And call'd me his dear!
His little dear, his pretty dear, his sweetest dearest dear!
Pitty pat, pitty pat, went my heart,
When first he rudely stole a kiss,
"Oh, fie! you naughty man, depart,"
"Indeed, I won't, my dearest Miss,"
He kiss'd, and he told me
His love was sincere,
And still did he hold me,
And calFd me his dear!
His little dear, his pretty dear, his sweetest dearest dear!
Pitty pat, pitty pat, went still more
My heart, when daddy found us out;
Dad frown'd, and many an oath he swore,
Pray, Hussey, what are you about?
But Damon held tighter,
And bid me not fear;
"How can you, sir, fright her,
"You see she's my dear,
"My little dear, my pretty dear, my sweetest dearest dear!"
Pitty pat, pitty pat, trudg'd away
We to the man in black and white;
My heart went pitty pat all day,
But still more pitty pat at night —
For Damon to show me
His love was sincere,
Refus'd to let go me,
And call'd me his dear,
His little dear, his pretty dear, his sweetest dearest dear!
MY FRENCH FRIEND: A STORY OF MISPLACED CONFIDENCE
It was Goldsmith, the simple-hearted, that uttered the words,
"what is friendship but a name." I think the story I shall relate will justify the bitterness of the sentence. I was sent to Paris on business, and there in the course of my commercial transactions made the acquaintance of Monsieur Julien, a round, good-humoured little Frenchman, with a charming vivacious little wife, several years his junior. They seemed a happy little couple, and I enjoyed many pleasant hours in their pretty Parisian suburban residence. Two things I regretted-one that my imperfect French and my French friends' imperfect English made our conversation somewhat limited. Another thing was the absence of my friend Johnson-the jolliest pal a fellow could have in a trip to France.