"Putting to Rights." ge wife shall have no opportunity for making the tea and If any one is fond of variety? let him marry-I toast-got out of bed on to the cold bare floor-my speak it oracularly, and in full defiance of the nerally received opinion of the dull monotony of the marriage life. I affirm it to be neither dull nor monotonous; but on the contrary, a source of infinite variety, and as such I can recommend it-though to say the truth, were I obliged to write my schoolcopies over it again, it would go against my conscience to say, that " Variety is charming!" 66 says, that carpets harbor dust, and not healthful in bed rooms-shave with cold water, teeth chattering with cold, and cut myself-can't get hot water, my wife says, cold water's bracing. Come down at last, stiff as an icicle, and blue as the cholera-find windows and doors all wide open-my wife says, a well ventilated house, makes things sweet and wholesome, and keeps dust from settling! find a little green sinoke instead of fire, struggling through a host of cinders-walk briskly up and down the room blowing my fingers-no signs of breakfast, can't get the kettle to boil-servant employed in the interim whitening the door-steps; street door open, of course, a cutting north-east wind Enter, at finding its way into one's very narrow. last, a bright tea-kettle, placed at a respectable dishere and there, and called toast-tea made with tance from the green smoke-bit of bread singed luke warm water, better that tea should be weak, than the bright tea-kettle be blacked, so my wife says-try in vain to get on my boots, find a scrubbing brush in one, and a duster in the other. The fact is, I am a literary man, and get my living by my pen. I am a household drudge to editors of magazines, booksellers, and gentlemen who wish to have a literary reputation, without the trouble of writing books. You may therefore suppose, that quietude and domestic comfort is essential to my success. Now my wife does not think so, or at least her ideas of domestic comfort differ so materially from mine, as to render it much the same thing She is never happy but when the house is a perfect chaos with scouring, dusting, and above all “ put ting to rights." She would be delighted if a troop of soldiers were quartered on her for the pleasure of putting things to rights" afterwards. If she walked in her sleep, it would be with a duster in her hand. If she were ever tempted to purloin, i: would be yellow soap. The very paint on my doors and wainscoat is giving way in picturesque streaks to the original deal by repeated scouringsand there is more bread consumed in rubbing the paper on my parlor walls than would keep my fa-room sweepings, and tea leaves flying with the vemily. Thank God, it will be rubbed off soon. I have not a chair or a table in my house but what is ricketty with continued polishing;-that is what my wife calls "taking care of the furniture." But oh! that putting to rights." Paper, paint, chairs and tables, might all go, if I could be spared that horror. If I die, the verdict of the coroner's jury will surely 46 be, died of "putting to rights." I have a good sized table to myself—a writing ta ble-on this is spread my various notes and papers, whether preparing an article for the magazine, correcting a manuscript for a publisher, or writing a book for an author. To an ordinary eye every thing may appear in confusion there, but to me it is in perfect order. I can place my finger upon every thing I want. But no; that will not do for my wife. Things must be "put to rights." The moment my back is turned, therefore, the process com mences. About 11 o'clock find my way out, and toil all day among publishers, editors, etc., without success return hungry and dispirited, hoping, though with some misgiving, to find comfort at home-turn the corner of the street where I live, and view with dis may a volume of dust, the downy residue of the bed locity of light, through the street door of my domicile-not my house on fire, and a dozen engines playing upon it, could convey to my senses a more appaling image-heard half a dozen miserable chilthere's no place like home," joined in the chorus. My dren in the street, squalling" Home sweet home, mind made up to the worst, by the sight of the airing process, I rush onwards and knock at the door.hurry to come-cutting north-east wind with sleet; They know my knock inside, and therefore in no the door opened at last, and back door, being of course wide open, am saluted with a blast of wind, stormy enough to spring the fore topmast of a man of war-my hat flies into the middle of the streetstriving to save it, my umbrella goes after it, and I, struggling for my footing, am covered in a twinkling with a cloud of feathers, dust, and tea leaves, the contents of a dust pan at the foot of the stairs! and umbrella, though with infinite difficulty—not so Regain my equilibrium together with my beaver The table is rubbed and polished till the joints creak again—the drawers are all turned topsy-turvy, and the papers bundled up and crammed my temper. Enter my parlor, good heaven! what away in places where it will take me a month to find am I doomed to behold-Is it an auction room, or a them again. When I return, I'm at my wit's end; place distressed for rent? or a marine store shop, or I am like a man going to sleep with flowing curls, writing table, and my papers-where? dusted and a jew's exchange? fender and fire irons upon my waking and finding himself in a trim crop wig! 'put'to rights!"" put to rights,"-Oh! what retrospective agonies does not that most expressive of horrors conjure up to those who have suffered under the discipline embraced in that detestable phrase, it is needless to expatiate, to those who have Never shall I forget the hubbub we were in for a whole week, when the child exhibited symptoms of a flea-bite. The house was scrubbed from garret to cellar, blankets were scoured, carpets beat, windows and doors open day and night, until she caught a violent cold, and I-the rheumatism. But not, no words can convey an adequate meaning. To sum up, wife scolding, child screaming-servant in order that you may have a more vivid sense of crying-and I swearing in an agony of rage, and my enjoyments, I will give you my diary for a day. mortification, rush out of the house intending to take March 13-Rose at 8 o'clock-very cold, a little a passage for the Swan River, or New Zealand!snow upon the ground-my wife rises an hour ear- Think better of it, rather starve at home than be eatlier, she, careful creature, is determined the servant en up by the savages, so return to my yoke! The Death Bed. I had never yet seen the agonies of a death-bed, though the sight of human suffering had become familiar, and had ceased to excite those painful sensations which it had at first created. I had sedulously avoided remaining to be a witness of the last struggles of mortality. *** I went up stairs ac-[ companied by the husband-On approaching the bed-side, I was shocked to perceive that his wife was dying and that all human aid was fruitless. She was a young and must have been a strikingly handsome woman; but her fine features now bore the impress of the destroyer. Her cheeks were sunk, her nostrils and lips quivered during the respiration: a cold claimy sweat stood upon ber forehead, and her countenance was pinched, and wore that peculiar appearance, termed by us “ "facies hypocratica." I sat down; her pulse was feeble and intermitted. She was slightly delirious; but when roused, answered faintly and rationally; I inquired how she was, and if she suffered much "No," she said, "no, none whatever, it is quite gone. I am quite better; and when I have slept shall be well." This was said slowly, and at intervals, and with imperfect articulation. Her sister who was in the room, and in high spirits, as the pain had left her, little imagining that it was a fatal symptom, told me that for several days she had been in great agony. " I called the husband aside, and shortly, but dis tinctly informed him, that a very brief period, and his wife would be no more. He was startled, but incredulous; she was easier, she must be better;" the doctor had told him so; I shook my head, and desired him to go for her mother, who had just left the house, in the confident hope that her daughter was recovering. He obeyed me very reluctantly; and I again set down at the bed-side, waiting for his return, in order to summon the surgeon. The angel of death was, however, nearer than I imagined. A fitful and meaning smile played over her features; her hands wandered about as if in search of something; while the intervals between respiration became longer and longer; her chest heaved, and that peculiar gurgling sound in the throat, known as "death rattle," apprised me that the moment of dissolution was at hand. Her sister terrified at these portentous changes, looking at me for information, I could only say, that in a few minutes all would be over. She fled shrieking out of the room, and I was left alone with the dying woman. I sat gazing upon her with a feeling of awe and dread; I almost expected to see the dark Azrael stoop over his victim, and the disembodied spirit wing its way from its earthly tabernacle. I gazed upon her with a species of fascination without having power to turn my eyes a moment from her face; at length, after a slight convulsive shudder, her eyelids were elevated and a deeper respiration took place. I waited in vain for its return. Her lower jaw fell, her arms lost their life. like position-she was dead. Buried in contemplation, I remained motionless, till I was roused by the hasty entrance of her hus band, mother and sister. Twenty minutes past, and they fondly believed her convalescent, and they now found her a corpse. I withdrew to the window,) and whilst a burst of passionate sorrow overpow ered the mourners, they knelt around the bed, the heavy sobs of the man mingling with the wilder grief of the female. looked at the group; what a contrast between the living and the dead! She lay before them as if in a profound and heavy sleep, her features preceptibly changing and assuming their original beauty of expression, as the smile that played over thein was gradually waning, and as the muscles lost their irritability; whilst they were weeping in all the attitudes of a first affliction, wringing their hands, and addressing her with vehement words of endearment. After these occurrences, it was my lot to see death in various shapes, from the calm preparations, the hope and confidence of unshrinking innocence, to the frantic terror and fierce impenitence for guilt and materialism. By a beautiful and benificent dispensation of Providence, it however, but rarely happened that patients were at all concious of the immediate approach of dissolution: and I am not aware that instance which came under my personal notice, any sign was exhibited that the moment of extinction was anticipated. in any ORIGINAL. Impromptu. On witnessing Hanington's Dioramas. On! fair are the sights, and rare are the shows The truths which the Bible alone, to light brought. E. C. H. |