Page images
PDF
EPUB

friends cared for them no more than for hemlock and henbane. They rode helter-shelter, making hazardous leaps, which disturbed herdsmen and herds of heifers; besides committing great havoc amongst the herbaceous fields, to the hindrance of the hirsute hirelings, who were hoeing there, and who evidently thought they were hippogriffs or hobgoblins.

At length a harrow, hidden by some hurdles and a hedge, made a lady's horse fall back on its haunches. The heedless rider, who is somewhat of a hoyden, was thrown heavily, and her habiliments caught in the hinge of a gate. The hindermost horseman coming to her help floundered in a humid ditch, and, but for an honest hoary hedger who was about to hew some wood, but was hailed by some of the party, and hobbling up helped both, the hilarity of the expedition might have been at an end. The lady hopped about, and halted on one foot, and every one kept on hoping she was not hurt; but she really had not even a headache, though she was hugely offended, and behaved very haughtily, because some one talked humorously to her, and gave her a hortatory homily against riding hap-hazard over hillocks.

She is an heiress, who desires to be a heroine, and who, instead of considering her fall a humiliation, thinks that she behaved heroically. The gentleman who was with her, and who is the son of a great historian or horticulturist, I forgot which, thinks she has a hectic flush, and that her health will suffer. At parting, he gave her a nosegay of hyacinths, heartsease, harebells, and heliotrope, and, heaving a

sigh, hoped she would accept his homage for her heroism. Unless he is a hypocrite, I should say that his heart was touched, and that he wishes her to add to his happiness by allowing him to lead her to the hymeneal altar. Pray do not confound this with

halter.

My sister is gone out to buy holland and huckaback, or something required for housewifery. She tells me, that the way she is forced to higgle and haggle about prices almost sends her into hysterics. We have a hospitable, harmless neighbor: he plays on the hautboy and the harpsichord, and sings Handel in a harsh voice, till he is hoarse. But he handles him unmercifully, and produces most horrible and inharmonious hissing and humming sounds. He is devoted to the histrionic art, and is a student of heraldry; and has a halberd, a hauberk, a harquebuse (or, as I believe it is often written, arquebuse), and a habergeon, hanging on his walls. He is besides very hypochondriacal, and is always talking of homœopathy and hydropathy, except when he discourses upon the hallucinations of hagiographers.

His name is Hugh Harrison: he is a haggard looking man, scarcely human in his appearance, for he has a hairy face of a dark hue, and always makes me think of a hedgehog. He dresses like a harlequin his language is full of hyperbole, and if he writes a note, it is not simply, but hyperbolically; and he delights also in arguing upon an hypothesis. But I prefer certainties to hypotheses, and therefore, whenever he says, "speaking hypothetically," I stop

him with all the hard words I can heap together, and talk of hydraulics and hydrostatics, hexameter verses, hexagonal and heptagonal buildings, and horizontal lines. I ask him if he ever saw a hygrometer, and if he can explain the meaning of hypostasis and hierophant; and I beg to know if a hereditament is a hereditary and heritable habitation.

He must often long for a fit of hiccough to bring me to a pause, or that my mouth should be hermetically sealed; but he is a humane fellow, and we hobble along together comfortably. He has ordered a hogshead of wine for me, red as hippocras, good honey and fresh herrings; and, if he is rather hoggish. in his habits, I am not hypercritical. I cannot, indeed, be a hypocrite, and hypocritically reward him with honied words; but I can and do honor him. I forgot to say, that he has a hatred of dogs, and a horror of hydrophobia. I believe he was born in the other hemisphere. His father was either a hatter, a haberdasher, or a seller of hardware. He had not a halfpenny of his own when he began life, and learnt no handicraft, though he was always hammering in a yard with a carpenter's hammer, and this much heightens the strangeness of his knowledge. He lives like a hermit in his hermitage: he is a very good Hebraist; many difficult hebraisms have been explained by him.

I must tell you that your handwriting is not to be read: some letters are huddled together, and then there follows a hiatus. I am glad you are at the headland, and are heedful of your health, and have

healthful air. I thought you would have hied to the hilly Highlands, and fancied you watching the hawk in the air, and the heron by the lake, if not hunting the hart with howling hounds, and hearkening to the halloos and huzzas of huntsmen; but it would have been too heating in this season, which, though heavenly, is apt to make one headachy. My sister has bought a hoop-ring for your cousin, and a handkerchief which will be a good head-dress for your aunt: she has cut it in halves, and will send the half to you a few days hence, by a man going to England, a hanger-on of the Duke of Hamilton. He is a kind of henchman, whose grandfather, they say, was a headsman.

I do wish Roman shoemakers understood heeling and heel-piecing; but they are very hazy in their ideas, and extremely heady, going off in a huff when they are found fault with: yet they know no more of this part of their trade than they do of houghing horses.

I see that the Americans of the North have hoisted the national flag. Some have stated that the Republic has as many heads as a hydra. I humbly hope, however, that it will soon prove itself homogeneous, and that its wounds will be healed. Do tell me if there is now a hippopotamus, as well as a hyena, in the Zoological Gardens; also, did your cousin Henry, who belonged to the Hussars die of hemorrhage, and who followed his hearse?

I have had some arguments with my sister, all hinging upon these points. We have hugged our

selves many times at being safely housed at Rome, and having no longer to cross that horridly stormy Mediterranean. Your housekeeper once asked me, if people kneel on hassocks, and use hymnals, in the Roman churches. Did she think these were signs of holiness, and that a service would be more holily conducted with than without them? They do sing hymns, I know. Now, good-bye. Yours ever,

[ocr errors]

A. B.

P.S. My sister asks: Does hyssop grow in your part of England? I wonder what the weather is like in your hyperborean regions. Here we have all the harbingers of summer.

LETTER XVII.

FROM C. D. TO A. B.

MARGATE, March, 1865.

My dear Friend, I imagined that I should inevitably receive either an account of the incidents of some pleasant jaunt, or have the infliction of an inordinately long, though probably ingenious essay, on the infallibility of the Pope; and you indulge me, instead, with a subject which is incontestably infinitely less irksome to yourself, the idiosyncrasies of the jolly, and, as it would seem, somewhat jovial, inhabitant of your house. Your account of the individual is inimitable. It is so indefinite, that I have no idea whether he is a Jew or an idiot. He certainly is not illiterate, but he seems to reason very

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »