French and Italian, equally as well

As Chinese, Portuguese, or German; and,
What is still more surprising, she could spell

Most of our longest English words, off hand;
Was quite familiar in Low Dutch and Spanish,
And thought of studying modern Greek and Danish.

She sang divinely: and in "Love's young dream,"
And" Fanny dearest," and "The soldier's bride;"
And every song whose dear delightful theme,

Is" Love, still love," had oft till midnight tried
Her finest, loftiest pigeon-wings of sound,
Waking the very watchmen far around.

FASHIONS.-PAULDING,

Mrs. Toole has for some time reigned unrivalled in the fashionable world, and had the supreme direction of caps, bonnets, feathers, flowers, and tinsel. She has dressed and undressed our ladies just as she pleased; now loading them with velvet and wadding, now turning them adrift on the world, to run shivering through the streets with scarcely a covering to their -backs; and now obliging them to drag a long train at their heels, like the tail of a paper kite. Her despotic sway, however, threatens to be limited. A dangerous rival has sprung up in the person of Madame Bouchard, an intrepid little woman, fresh from the head-quarters of fashion and folly, and who has burst like a second Buonaparte upon the fashionable world. Mrs. Toole, notwithstanding, seems determined to dispute her ground bravely for the honor of old England. The ladies have begun to arrange themselves under the banner of one or other of these heroines of the needle, and every thing portends open war. Madame Bouchard marches gallantly to the field, flourishing a flaming red robe for a standard, "flouting the skies;" and Mrs. Toole, no ways dismayed, sallies out under cover of artificial flowers, like Malcolm's host. Both parties possess great merit, and both deserve the victory. Mrs. Toole changes the highest, but Madame Bouchard makes the lowest conesy. Madame Bouchard is a little short lady-nor is there any hope of her growing larger; but then she is perfectly genteel, and so is Mrs. Toole. Mrs. Toole lives in Broadway, and Mad

ame Bouchard in Courtland street; but Madame atones for the inferiority of her stand, by making two courtesies to Mrs. Toole's one, and talking French like an angel. Mrs. Toole is the best looking, but Madame Bouchard wears a most bewitching little scrubby wig. Mrs. Toole is the tallest, but Madame Bouchard has the longest nose. Mrs. Toole is fond of roast beef, but Madame is loyal in her adherence to onions; in short, so equally are the merits of the two ladies balanced, that there is no judging which will "kick the beam." It, however, seems to be the prevailing opinion, that Madame Bouchard will carry the day, because she wears a wig, has a long nose, talks French, loves onions, and does not charge above ten times as much for a thing as it is worth.

Under the direction of these high-priestesses of the beau-monde, the following is the fashionable morning dress for walking:

If the weather be very cold, a thin muslin gown or frock is most advisable, because it agrees with the season, being perfectly cool. The neck, arms, and particularly the elbows, bare, in order that they may be agreeably painted and mottled by Mr. John Frost, nose-painter-general, of the color of Castile soap. Shoes of kid, the thinnest that can possibly be procured-as they tend to promote colds, and make a lady look interesting (i. e. grizzly.) Picnic silk stockings, with lace clocks-fleshcolored are most fashionable, as they have the appearance of bare legs-nudity being all the rage. The stockings carelessly bespattered with mud, to agree with the gown, which should be bordered about three inches deep with the most fashionably colored mud that can be found: the ladies permitted to hold up their trains, after they have swept two or three streets, in order to show the clocks of their stockings. The shawl, scarlet, crimson, flame, orange, salmon, or any other combustible or brimstone color, thrown over one shoulder, like an Indian blanket, with one end dragging on the ground.

N. B.-If the ladies have not a red shawl at hand, a red petticoat, turned topsy-turvy over the shoulders, would do just as well. This is called being dressed a-la-drabble.

When the ladies do not go abroad of a morning, the usual chimney-corner dress is a dotted, spotted, striped, or cross-barred gown-a yellowish, whitish, smokish, dirty-colored shawl, and the hair curiously ornamented with little bits of newspapers, or pieces of a letter from a dear friend. This is called the "Cinderella dress."

The recipe for a full dress is as follows:

Take of spider-net, crape, satin, gymp, catgut, gauze, whalebone, lace, bobbin, ribands, and artificial flowers, as much as will rig out the congregation of a village church; to these add as many spangles, beads, and gew-gaws, as would be sufficient to turn the heads of all the fashionable fair ones of Nootka Let Mrs. Toole, or Madame Bouchard, patch all these articles together, one upon another, dash them plentifully over with stars, bugles, and tinsel, and they will altogether forma dress, which, hung upon a lady's back, cannot fail of supplying the place of beauty, youth, and grace, and of reminding the spectator of that celebrated region of finery, called Rag Fair.

WYOMING.-HALLECK.

But where are they, the beings of the mind,
The bard's creation, molded not of clay,
Hearts to strange bliss and suffering assigned-
Young Gertrude, Albert, Waldegrave-where are they?
We need not ask. The people of to-day

Appear good, honest, quiet men enough,

And hospitable too-for ready pay,

With manners like their roads, a little rough,

And hands whose grasp is warm and welcoming, though tough.

Judge Hallenbach, who keeps the toll-bridge gate,

And the town records, is the Albert now

Of Wyoming like him, in church and state,
Her doric column; and upon his brow

The thin hairs, white with seventy winters' snow,
Look patriarchal. Waldegrave 't were in vain
To point out here, unless in yon scare-crow,
That stands full-uniformed upon the plain,

To frighten flocks of crows and blackbirds from the grain.

For he would look particularly droll

In his "Iberian boot" and "Spanish plume,"
And be the wonder of each Christian soul
As of the birds that scare-crow and his broom.
But Gertrude, in her loveliness and bloom,
Hath many a model here,-for woman's eye,
In court or cottage, wheresoe'er her home,

Hath a heart-spell too holy and too high
To be o'er-praised even by her worshipper-Poesy.

There's one in the next field-of sweet sixteen-
Singing and summoning thoughts of beauty born
In heaven with her jacket of light green,
"Love-darting eyes, and tresses like the morn,"
Without a shoe or stocking,-hoeing corn.

LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, TO ASEM HACCHEM.-PAULDING.

Thou wilt doubtless be anxious to learn our reception in this country, and how we were treated by a people whom we have been accustomed to consider as unenlightened barbarians.

On landing, we were waited upon to our lodgings, I suppose according to the directions of the municipality, by a vast and respectable escort of boys and negroes, who shouted and threw up their hats, doubtless to do honor to the magnanimous Mustapha, captain of a ketch; they were somewhat ragged and dirty in their equipments, but this was attributed to their republican simplicity. One of them, in the zeal of admiration, threw an old shoe, which gave thy friend rather an ungentle salutation on one side of the head, whereat I was not a little offended, until the interpreter informed us that this was the customary manner in which great men were honored in this country; and that the more distinguished they were, the more they were subjected to the attacks and peltings of the mob. Upon this I bowed my head three times, with my hands to my turban, and made a speech in Arabic-Greek, which gave great satisfaction, and occasioned a shower of old shoes, hats, and so forth, that was exceedingly refreshing to us all.

Thou wilt not as yet expect that I should give thee an account of the laws and politics of this country. I will reserve them for some future letter, when I shall be more experienced in their complicated and seemingly contradictory nature.

This empire is governed by a grand and most puissant bashaw, whom they dignify with the title of President. He is chosen by persons, who are chosen by an assembly, elected by the people-hence the mob is called the sovereign people-and the country, free; the body politic doubtless resembling a vessel, which is best governed by its tail, The present bashaw is

a very plain old gentleman-something they say of a humorist, as he amuses himself with impaling butterflies, and pickling tadpoles; he is rather declining in popularity, having given great offense by wearing red breeches, and tying his horse to a post. The people of the United States have assured me that they themselves are the most enlightened nation under the sun; but thou knowest that the barbarians of the desert, who assemble at the summer solstice, to shoot their arrows at that glorious luminary, in order to extinguish his burning rays, make precisely the same boast;-which of them have the superior claim, I shall not attempt to decide.

I have observed, with some degree of surprise, that the men of this country do not seem in haste to accommodate themselves even with the single wife, which alone the laws permit them to marry; this backwardness is probably owing to the misfortune of their absolutely having no female mutes among them. Thou knowest how invaluable are these silent companions; what a price is given for them in the East, and what entertaining wives they make. What delightful entertainment arises from beholding the silent eloquence of their signs and gestures; but a wife possessed both of a tongue and a soulmonstrous! monstrous! Is it astonishing that these unhappy infidels should shrink from a union with a woman so preposterously endowed?

Thou hast doubtless read in the works of Abul Faraj, the Arabian historian, the tradition which mentions that the muses were once upon the point of falling together by the ears, about the admission of a tenth among their number, until she assured them, by signs, that she was dumb; whereupon they received her with great rejoicing. I should, perhaps, inform thee that there are but nine christian muses, who were formerly pagans, but have since been converted, and that in this country we never hear of a tenth, unless some crazy poet wishes to pay an hyperbolical compliment to his mistress; on which occasion it goes hard, but she figures as a tenth muse, or fourth grace, even though she should be more illiterate than a Hottentot, and more ungraceful than a dancing bear! Since my arrival in this country, have met not less than a hundred of these supernumerary muses and graces-and may Allah preserve me from ever meeting any more!

When I have studied this people more profoundly, I will write thee again; in the meantime watch over my household, do not beat my beloved wives, unless you catch them with