"A dollar."

"And a dollar is it, my darlint; why, in my country you might buy them for sixpence apiece."

"And why didn't you stay in that blessed cheap country?"

"Och, faith, and there was no sixpence there, to be sure!"

THAT was a very prettily turned speech which Lady Lucan made to Mrs. Sheridan, wife of the great wit, who was at that time all the rage: "You must be a very happy woman, madam, who have the felicity of pleasing the man who pleases all the world."

When compliments give so much pleasure, it is strange that good people are so chary of them. Flattery is foolish and wicked, but praise, when deserved, is due, and ought to be paid, like any other debt.

"As in smooth oil the razor best is whet,
So wit is by politeness sharpest set,
Their want of edge from their offense is seen,
Both pain us least when exquisitely keen,
The fame men give is for the joy they find;
Dull is the jester, when the jokes 's unkind."

So true is this, that even the fame and genius of Madame de Staël cannot shield her from censure when she made such a savage reply to an infelicitous but well-meant compliment paid to her by M. Lalande the astronomer. At a dinner party he was seated between Madame Recamier and Madame de Staël. Wishing to say something agreeable he remarked:

66

How happy I am to be thus placed between genius and beauty!"

"Yes, Monsieur," sarcastically replied. Madame de Staël, "and without possessing either."

THE Franklin Register once published an address by the Rev. Mr. Abbott, and in its next issue noted the following correction: "For 'dum swizzle,' please read 'promi

nence.'

This was bad enough, but the next week the same paper had the following:

"In an advertisement which appeared in our last paper, for Bumbleton's stormdestroying porringers,' read Hamilton's worm-destroying lozenges.""

Falkner, who edited the Dublin Journal, announced in glowing terms the arrival in that city of a distinguished member of the British nobility. On the next day his paper contained the following very Hibernian correction:

"For Her Grace the Duke,' in yesterday's journal, read His Grace the Duch

ess.

He improved the matter quite as much as the good clergyman in England did who, without book, was praying, and said: "O Lord, bless all classes of people, from the

beggar on the throne to the king on the dunghill-we mean, from the king on the dunghill to the beggar on the throne."

It is sometimes better, when a man has made a blunder, to let it go.

VERY concise verdict that of a coroner's jury in Idaho, and racy of the soil: "We find that the deceased came to his death by calling Tom Watlings a liar."

THE salubrity of the climate of Minnesota In the opinion of is universally conceded. one Dr. Murphy, it is superior to that of California or any other State. On one occasion he remarked: "Look at me! Behold my rounded form! When I came here I weighed only ninety-seven pounds, and now I weigh two hundred and seventy-five. What do you think of that?"

A young gentleman of the vicinage, standing by, said, "Why, doctor, that's nothing. Look at me; I weigh one hundred and seventy-five pounds, and when I came to Minnesota I weighed only six pounds." He rather had the medical man.

A YEAR or two ago a case was on trial before Judge -, in which a certain horsedoctor was a witness. The doctor was on the stand, and answered the questions addressed to him in a very low and indistinct voice. He was repeatedly asked to speak louder, but continued his mumbling tones, to the great annoyance of his questioner. The judge interrupted, and addressing the lawyer, said, "Mr. -, you must really excuse the doctor; his long experience in the sick-room has made it his second nature to speak low."

A CONGRESS of Americanists recently assembled in Copenhagen. An Americanist is said to be a student of early American

history. Not to be behind the countries of the Old World, America should convene a congress of Europeanists.

A DARKY on Pecano Plantation not long since was much tried by the obstinacy of a mule. After much urging and kindness toward the brute, he broke out with, "Look hyer, now! mebby you think 'cause I jined the church last Sunday that I can't use big words; but I'll hab you know I'm gwine make a special 'ception in your case."

IN the literature of summer resorts a new

term has made its appearance. The public is informed that a large number of " society solids"--whatever they may be-have arrived at a well-known New Jersey watering place.

It is related of a certain young aristocrat, whose life had been mainly spent in raising money from Jews, that he had heard that a meeting was to be held in Exeter Hall in reference to a new tribe of Jews who had been found in some part of Asia, and who were promising subjects for conversion. To the surprise of the meeting, in came this young nobleman. The chairman expressed delight at his presence. His lordship replied,

"I have seen the interesting advertiscment respecting this wealthy new tribe of Jews, and I am come to learn more particulars about them."

The chairman jocosely said, "Perhaps your lordship would like to visit them."

Indeed I should," was the instant answer; "and that is what has brought me here. I have had the best of every Jew in this country, and I should like to have some fresh ones."

AN invalid, gradually recovering from an attack of sickness which had left him very weak, was recommended by his physician to rub himself all over every night on going to bed, with brandy, as a means of regaining his strength. Accordingly he sent to his family grocer, with whom he had dealt for years, and ordered a quantity of the very best "old cogne," after applying which for several successive nights, he felt much better. So he continued the process until one morning, to his horror, he found his entire cuticle of a deep crimson colourdarker by a good many shades than boiled lobster. Springing up in alarm, he roused the family, and the doctor was sent for in haste. The doctor could hardly forbear smiling when he saw the ludicrous appearance of his patient, but finding the sick man and his family deeply alarmed, ho sobered his risibles, and asked, "Has he rubbed himself every night, as I ordered?” "Yes, faithfully." "The best of brandy?" "Yes,

doctor, the very best; we never use any other." "Let me see it." So the bottle was brought, the doctor tasted it, shook his head; and, thinking a moment, said: "I'll take it home and analyze it-there are so many tricks among liquor-dealers." "Oh, no fear of that with our grocer. He sells nono but the very best; imports them all directly himself." "Well, I'll look into it." And calming the family fears, the good doctor departed, taking the pure old cognac in his pocket. In a short time a note from him was handed in: "DEAR L—,—Make yourself perfectly casy; the cognac is only whisky, and won't hurt you. It was the logwood in it that gave you the brilliant colour.”

Oth

F the Green Mountains one might probably say, paraphrasing Montesquieu's famous prediction about the spirit of laws, that they are more generally admired than visited. Poets sing without seeing them. They have furnished ready and familiar figures to orators who could hardly point them out on the map. That they stimulate the virtues of the patriot, and grow a stalwart race of men, is one of those axioms which one meets over and over again in the pages of writers who have never felt their rugged breezes, or measured the sons of Vermont in their own homes. Nor is this service which the State renders to rhetoric shared in anything like an equal degree by other States, which also have mountains, loftier perhaps and grander than its own. Even the White Mountains seem to be less frequently used, while the Alleghanies, the Rocky Mountains, and other noble chains throughout the country are almost unknown in literature and oratory. Only one thing is therefore wanting to complete the singular pre-eminence of Vermont. If her mountains and valleys were more often traversed and better known, if her children were studied through personal contact and acquaintance, the phrases of enthusiasm and admiration would not perhaps be subdued, but they would be well informed, just, rational, more serviceable to their authors, and not less complimentary to their objects.

The present article can, of course, repair this neglect only in part. To describe the whole State, or even all its leading beauties, would require a dozen volumes instead of as many pages; or if attempted on a small scale would be little more than a catalogue of natural objects, without those minute details which could alone justify them to the critical eye. We shall therefore take for description two favorite

points in the Vermont landscape, and then invite the reader with their aid to complete the picture. One of these shall be the highest peak in the State; the other, one of the lowest valleys. The former is in the northeast, and stands guard over the Connecticut; the latter is in the south west, and opens out into Champlain and the Hudson. Mount Mansfield will illustrate the grandeur and majesty of the Green Mountains themselves. Otter Creek irrigates a narrow vale between the mountains, and supplies the power for one of the leading industries of the State. Both regions, too, are somewhat frequented by tourists, and one of them is on the direct line of a railway.

The

Mount Mansfield is accessible either from the east or from the west. If from the west, the last railway station is Underhill, where there is a popular summer hotel, and whence carriages can ascend as far as the Half-way House. For the rest of the distance the tour is only for pedestrians, but there is a good foot-path, and a succession of views, as one ascends, affords a pleasant diversion, relieves the labor, and prepares for the final panorama which is revealed from the summit. favorite route is, however, by way of Stowe, which lies southeast of the mountain. It is reached by stage from Morrisville, eight miles distant on the St. Johnsbury and Lake Champlain Railroad, or from the better known and more convenient station of Waterbury, ten miles distant, on the Central Vermont Railroad. This great thoroughfare furnishes the means of easy access from New York and Boston, and connects with the more important lines of communication in all directions.

The tourist who like myself chooses the last described course finds at Waterbury the final traces of a corrupt urban civili

VOL. LXVII.-No. 402.-51