Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science, Volume 26 December, 1880. by Various None (smart ebook reader .txt) 📕

Anxiety,  To Be Reassured. At Last,  When The Family Were Retiring To Bed,

Came Mrs. Haley And Mrs. Magovern To Report Their Arrival. In Spite Of

The Lateness Of The Hour My Mother Received Them,  And In Spite Of Their

Wearied And Worn Faces Administered A Gentle Rebuke For The Anxiety That

Mrs. Haley Had Caused Her Spouse.

"Well,  Indade It'S No Wonder He Was Throubled," Said Mrs. Haley,  "An'

It'S A Wonder We Got Here At All. We Got Nothing At The Washington

Market,  For We Couldn'T Find It At All: I Think They Tuk It Away To

Washington. It Was In The Mornin' Airly That We Got To The City,  Ma'Am,

An' There Was A Koind Of A Carr,  An' A Gintleman Up On The Top Of It,

An' Anuther Gintleman At The Dure Of It,  Wid The Dure In His Hand,  An'

He Sez,  Sez He,  'Git In,  Ladies,' Sez He.--'We'Re Goin' To The

Washington Market,  Sur,' Sez I.--That'S Where I'Ll Take Yez,  Ladies,'

Sez He. 'Pay Yer Fares,  Ladies.' An' We Got In,  Ma'Am,  An' Wint Up To

The Top Of The City,  An' Paid Tin Cints,  The Both Of Us. An' There Was A

Great Many Ladies An' Gintlemen Got In an' Done The Same,  Ma'Am,  An'

Some Got Out One Place An' Some Another. An' Whin We Got Up To The Top

Of The City,  'Mrs. Magovern,' Sez I,' This Isn'T The Washington Market,'

Sez I.--' It Is Not,  Mrs. Haley,' Sez She.--'We'Ll Git Out,  Mrs.

Magovern,' Sez I.--'We Will,  Mrs. Haley,' Sez She. An' Thin,  Ma'Am,

There Was A Small Bit Of A Howl In The Carr,  And It Was Through The Howl

The Ladies An' Gintlemen Would Cry Out To The Gintleman On The Top O'

The Carr,  And He'D Put His Face Down Forninst It An' Spake Wid Thim; An'

I Cried Up Through The Howl To Him,  An' Sez I,  'Me An' Mrs. Magovern

Will Git Out,  Sur,' Sez I,  'For This Isn'T The Washington Market At

All.'--'It Is Not,  Ma'Am,' Sez He,  'But That'S Where I'Ll Take Yez,' Sez

He. 'Sit Down,  Ladies,' Sez He,  'And Pay Me The Money,' Sez He. 'I Had A

Great Many Paple To Lave,' Sez He. An' Indade He Had,  Ma'Am. An' We Paid

The Money Agin,  An' We Wint Down To The Bottom O' The City. 'This Is Not

The Washington Market,  Mrs. Magovern,' Sez I.--'It Is Not,  Mrs. Haley,'

Sez She.--'We'Ll Git Out,  Mrs. Magovern,' Sez I.--'We Will,  Mrs. Haley,'

Sez She. Thin Came The Gintleman That First Had The Dure In His Hand.

'What'S The Matther,  Ladies?' Sez He.--'This Isn'T The Washington

Market,  Sur,' Sez I.--'It Is Not,  Ma'Am,' Sez He,  'But The City Is A

Great Place,' Sez He,  'An' It'S Not Aisy To Go Everywhere At Wonst,' Sez

He; 'An' If Yez Will Have Patience,' Sez He,  'Ye'Ll Git There,' Sez He.

'Git In,  Ladies,' Sez He,  'An' Pay Yer Fares.' Wid All The Houses

There'S In The City,  An' All The Sthrates There'S In It,  Faith,  It Was

No Good At All To Thry To Foind Our Way Alone; But Thim Wur False

Paple--They Niver Took Us To The Washington Market At All; An' It Was

All The Day We Wint Up To The Top O' The City And Down To The Bottom O'

The City,  And Spinding Our Money At It. An' Sez I,  'Mrs. Magovern,  It

Would Be Better For Us If We Wint Home,' Sez I.--'It Would,  Mrs. Haley,'

Sez She; An' We Come Down To The Boat,  An' It Was Two Hours Agin Befoor

The Boat Would Go,  An' Thin We Come Home; An' It'S Toired We Are,  An'

It'S An' Awful Place,  The City Is."

Haley'S Statements Could Seldom Be Relied On,  But His Untruth Fulness

Was Never A Matter Of Self-Interest,  But Rather Of Amiability. He

Desired To Tell You Whatever You Desired To Know,  And To Tell It As You

Would Like To Hear It,  Even If Facts Were So Perverse As To Be Contrary.

One Day I Wanted To Do An Errand In The Village,  And Called For The

Horse And Carriage. Haley Brought Them To The Door. As I Took The Reins

I Remembered That It Was Noon And The Horse'S Dinner-Time: "Did The

Horse Have His Dinner,  Haley?"

"I Just Gave It To Him,  Ma'Am; And An Ilegint Dinner He Had."

"Why Did You Feed Him Just When I Was About To Drive Him?"

"Oh,  Well,  It'S Not Much He Got."

"He Should Have Had Nothing."

"Faith,  Me Lady,  I Ownly Showed It To Him."

There Were No More Respectable People In The Lane Than John Godfrey And

His Family. His Pretty Little Wife With An Anxious Face Tenderly Watched

Over An Ever-Increasing Family Of Daughters,  Till On One Most

Providential Occasion The Expected Girl Turned Out To Be A Boy,  And I

Went With My Sisters To Congratulate The Happy Mother. "What Will You

Name The Little Fellow,  Mrs. Godfrey?" I Asked,  Sympathetically.

The Poor Woman Looked Up With A Smile,  Saying Weakly,  "John Pathrick,

Miss--John Afther The Father,  An' Pathrick Afther The Saint."

The Following Year The Same Unexpected Luck Brought Another Boy,  And

Again We Young Girls,  Being Much At Leisure,  Carried Our

Congratulations: "What Will Be The Name Of This Little Boy,  Mrs.

Godfrey?"

"Pathrick John,  Miss--Pathrick Afther The Saint,  An' John Afther The

Father."

A Confused Sense Of Having Heard That Sentence Before Came Over Me.

"Why,  Mrs. Godfrey," I Said,  "Was Not That The Name Of Your Last Child?"

"To Be Shure,  Miss. Why Would I Be Trating One Betther Than The Other?"

A Member Of This Same Family,  Upon Receiving A Blow With A Stone In The

Eye,  Left Her Somewhat Overcrowded Paternal Home For The Quieter

Protection Of Her Widowed Aunt,  Mrs. King,  And One Day My Sister And

Myself Knocked At Mrs. King'S Door To Inquire About The State Of The

Injured Organ.

"Troth,  Miss,  It'S Very Bad," Said Mrs. King.

"What Do You Do For It,  Mrs. King?"

"Do?" Said Mrs. King,  Suddenly Applying The Corner Of Her Apron To Her

Overflowing Eyes--"Do?" She Continued In a Broken Voice. "I'Ve Been

Crying These Three Days."

"But What Do You Do To Make It Better?"

Mrs. King Took Heart,  Folded Her Arms,  And Thus Applied Herself To The

Setting Forth Of Her Humane Exertions: "In Comes Mistress Magovern,

An',  'Mrs. King,' Sez She,  'Put Rar Bafesteak To The Choild'S Oye;' An'

That Minit,  Ma'Am,  The Rar Bafesteak Wint To It. Thin Comes Mrs. Haley.

'Is It Rar Bafesteak Ye'D Be Putting To It,  Mrs. King?' Sez She. 'Biling

Clothes,  Mrs. King,' Sez She. That Minit,  Ma'Am,  The Rar Bafesteak Come

Afif An' The Biling Clothes Wint To It. In comes Mrs. Quinlan. 'Will Ye

Be Destryin' The Choild'S Oye Intirely,  Mrs. King?' Sez She. 'Cowld Ice,

Mrs. King.' An' That Minit,  Ma'Am,  The Biling Clothes Come Aff An' The

Cowld Ice Wint To It. Oh,  I Do Be Doin' Iverything Anybody Do Tell Me."

It Was A Memorable Sight To See The Gunning Twins Wandering Down The

Lane Hand In Hand When Their Maternal Relative Had Gone Out Washing For

The Day And Taken The Door-Key With Her. "Thim Lads Is Big Enough To

Take Care Of Thimsilves," She Would Remark,  Though "The Lads" Were Not

Yet Capable Of Coherent Speech. No Doubt They Wandered Into Some

Neighbor'S At Meal-Time And Received A Willingly-Given Potato Or A Drink

Of Milk. They Seemed Happy Enough,  And Their Funny,  Ugly Little Faces

Were Defaced By No Tears. They Grew In Time Old Enough To Explain Their

Position To Inquiring Passers-By And To Pick Up And Eat An Amazing

Quantity Of Green Apples. A Lady Passing One Day Stopped And

Remonstrated With One Of Them. "Barney," She Said,  "It Will Make You Ill

If You Eat Those Green Apples."--"I Do Be Always Atin' Of Them,  Ma'Am,"

Replied Barney,  Stolidly.

Perhaps It May Have Been The Green Apples,  But From Whatever Cause

Barney Fell Ill,  And All That The Doctor Prescribed Made Him No Better.

"It'S No Matther,  Stir," Said Mrs. Gunning One Morning: "Yer Needn'T

Come Ag'In. I'Ll Just Go An' Ask Mrs. ------" (My Mother).

The Next Morning The Doctor,  Meeting My Mother,  Laughingly Remarked

That It Was Very Plain That They Couldn'T Practise In The Same

District: He Had Just Met Mrs. Gunning,  Who Informed Him That "What

Mrs. ------ Gave Her The Night Befoor Done The Choild A Power Of Good."

The Day Preceding Our Departure From The Place My Sister And I Passed

Through The Lane,  And Received The Most Amiable Farewells,  Accompanied

With Blessings,  And Even Tears. The Figure I Best Remember Is That Of

Mrs. Regan,  Who,  Bursting Out From Her Doorway,  Stood In Our Path,  And,

Dissolving In Tears,  Sobbed Out,  "Faith,  I'M Sorry Yez Be Goin'. I Don'T

Know What I'Ll Do At All Widout Yez;" And,  Seizing My Sister'S Hand,

Gave Her This Unique Recommendation: "Ye Were Always Passing By

Mannerly--Niver Sassy Nor Impidint,  Nor Nothing."

The Lane Has Changed To-Day. A Chinese Grocer Has,  I Hear,  Set Up A Shop

In Its Midst. Some Of Its Most Noted Characters Have Passed Away,  And

The Younger Generation Have Taken On Habits More American Than Those Of

Their Predecessors.

M.R.O.

A Child'S Autobiography.

A Quaint And Charming Volume,  Which Has Fallen In Our Way,  Is _Little

Charlie'S Life_,  "The Autobiography Of A Child Between Six And Seven

Years Of Age,  Written With His Own Hand And Without Any Assistance

Whatever." It Was At The Urgent Request Of The Gentleman Who Acted As

Editor,  Rev. W.R. Clark--Thus Rescuing An Inimitable Little Work From

Comparative Oblivion--That The Parents Of The Youthful Author

Reluctantly Consented To The Publication Of This Curious Delineation Of

Child-Life. From The Date Of His Birth (1833),  Charlie Must Have Written

His Work Some Forty Years Ago. How Long He Was Engaged In Its

Composition Is Not Stated,  But From The Internal Evidence Yielded By The

Spelling And The Handwriting (For The Work Is Lithographed In exact

Imitation Of The Manuscript) We Should Infer That It Occupied Two Or

Three Years,  The Handwriting Of The First Seven Chapters Being In

Imitation Of Ordinary Printing,  While The Remaining Chapters Appear In

An Ordinary Schoolboy'S Hand. We May Add That It Is Copiously

Illustrated By Himself,  And