_ EDWARD WHELAN]

Vor. IX.

t Literature.

OP LOLL LOL AOL Ot

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OLD PAPERS.

be Gram A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITE ATURE AND NEWS.

This is true Liberty, when Free-born Men, having to advise the Public, may speak free,—EURIPIDES.

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| without chancing on a farthing’s worth. Ie’s coming home

for a wife on the strength of it.”

“Ts he so sure he’ll get one ?”

« What! a man worth £2,000 a year? No woman ever refused a

He’ll find the |

—

CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1859.

when I’d last seen her, had been little Maude in the nursery,

and was now got up very grand in crinoline,fixatrice, organdie |

muslin, and all the rest of it, and stood as high as my shoulder, and I’m six feet two inches,

| sk I kissed her, by | right of my cousinship, and Maude blushed and looked preity,

Wer.

{EDITOR anno PUBLISHER

No. 14.

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late we sat that night over our regalias and toddy, recalling the old days when we'd robbed orchards and run to see the North Warwickshire throw off, cut our names during the Doctor’s sermon, and hooked prohibited Jack for delicious

| market over stocked, my boy. ! ‘secret suppers. How we talked of the old Paris times, too ; e ; no. in idly exarching o'er | good income. Master Tom will find only too many fish to and I thought her decidedly improved since the nursery and of that actress at the Odeon that we used to chaff Willie

fave, ete Siaaehuned snap at his fly.” pianofore days. What a pity it was those girls had no tin: about; of the Bar, and the little we made at it; of the

Might, with ctange play, touch ad poor «“ But the Bush isn’t such a charming prospect ?” they were certainly very good style, though their father had Bush, and the sport Tom had in it; of George Watson's Moth-caten garments of the dead,— “ Pooh! Méunt, any marriage (leave alone the certainty only a living of £700 a year, and nine children. Heaven fcx-hounds and Hall’s rifle powder ; of shooting wild ducks

of a good settlemént) is a godsend to a woman. Goring will! help him, poor fellow! on the lagoons and hunting kangaroos, till our own deeds,

Thus (to their wearer once allied) only have U’embarras des richesses, take my word for it;| “ What a comfort it would be if Tom would but take one trouting in the Derwent, shooting blackcock on the moors,

__ 1 lift these weeds of buried woe,— | and whoever has his handkerchief thrown at her will pick | off his hands,” I thought, as 1 introduced the commissary to | and pestridges res the stubble, looked quite tame beside

r -_ Set Saat ‘it up with thanksgiving. Poor Tom, won't you be glad to| the goods he was to choose from. He talked to Helen, the | this Nimrod of the West.

see him? It seems only the other day that we were boys | eldest, who’s one-and-twenty, tall, fair, and handsome, looked| “And so you’re come to get married, Tom?” said De f

‘Tis said that seven short years can change, together fishing for surreptitious J ack, and smoking smuggled | at Maude, (the — of the trio, to my mind), and then | Rohan, looking with eyes of love upon his ancient chum. . Phsungh uecve-ated hens, dhiebaleteli fame. Queens in bars and here ia be coming back to get married, ae over a0 oe pod ote who : a great pee ; we ae i a oe mo J oo oe i have J

Cellude by cellude waxing strange, and you and I are growing-old in chambers.” ail the men, and though not strictly pretty, is very picture-| been loolsing about for you, and I think I’ve found what may Fe Till not an atom is the same. ‘1m much obliged to you, Will,” eaid I. “ If you|sque and winning. I don’t know what it is about that girl; | do very well.” &

choose to fancy yourself feeling old at four-and-thirty, I} she’s no remarkable beauty, though it’s a mignonne face, but; ‘Thank you, my dear fellow,” answered Tom, filling his

By whst more subtile, slow degrees don’t. The deuce! we're mere infants at the Bar, and ten | she can bewitch us by dozens, and distances regular belles by| pipe. ‘* Unless women have altered wonderfully since I bie

=e ai reves —— years hence, if we like to take a fancy to any pretty girl,| twenty lengths. Upon my word, I think women are like| went out, as soon as they know I’m a marrying man they’ll 3 Aa i a en fate ome fall —" we shall be young enough.” racers: your wild little filly will often go in and win at'sn|be coming round me in flocks, like so many pretty little i

‘And keep her on a farthing a week? Pleasant, cer- | easy canter, while the favorite, whom everybody has backed | Rosella parrots.” ;

So far remote from joy or bale, tainly. Tom can marry, you and I can’t, and I’m sure | from the day she was entered, can’t keep the pace at ay That they will, for (not to disparage your manitfoid “2 Wherewith each dusky page is rife, don’t covet the privilege—not half as much as I do his power | against her. ; attractions, Tom, and to say nothing of that wonderful beard) “3

I seem to read some piteous tale of shooting anything he likes; from bandicoots to pigs, with-| “I say, mother, Tom Goring’s coming back,” said I, | you have the precious gilding that ladies love,” smiled Willie. e Of strange romance, but true to life. out license or fear of the keeper.” while Willie was amusing his mind looking at Vivia’s draw- |‘ You: won’t have to play Slender’s part, for customs are

A : “By George! I should say so. Well,” said I, asajings. ‘* He’s worth two thousand a year, and is come to get | sadly changed since Master Ford’s time, and now, aw con- e

we = prs a ate ga ohined ' bright idea struck me, “I wish he'd take otie of the Lessing-| 4 wife to r traire, ‘ Money buys wives, and dands are sold by fate.’ So 4. soul thas q Sy BOVEG, f = : with hi r ain’t ex: ‘Good gracious, Bertie,” interrupted Vivia, arching her | you will have a hundred wives coming to your call, and I . a hy , ’s weeds, ham girls back with him; They ain’t exactly Bush style, to ood g » Bertie, errupted Vivia, g y ; gtoy » anc

mere am eee pee al Pog ' be sure; but that don’t matter, it would be an intense com-| eyebrows—very contemptuous, mobile, little eyebrows they may whistle till ’m hoarse for the governor's Hungarian ‘

fort to their poor old governor.” are—* you talk of getting a wife as you might of buying a / acres.”

— 2 gone — eos rape a " «“ What are they like ?” asked Willie. ee seen or ate a ow oe es - seal aes screens

fouth’s fevered trance ?—That plot grows thickj—| «Very pretty, ve heard. I haven’t seen ’em the last | speak asif girls were to be bought for all the wor ike ¢ next few days Tom employed in making himself loo Was it this eold and even pulse hain two or ten al Tuere are three, and two little ones | horses at Tattersal!’s.” __ {like a Christian again, getting rigged out in Regent-street, Phat thrilled with life so fierce and quick - coming up after em and four boys—horrible! How's any| “ Well, Miss Lessingham,” said De Rohan, “ I th nk | and shaving of that atrocious beard, which made bim look

Well. I ansaid man to expect to get them off his hands? It’s enough to| society is very much like Tattersall’s ; young ladies, like | for all the world like an ourang-outang, though he’s a good- Ne = pre sr a 4 we oa stehe tn ek Gielen ahead Weanalt ™ young fillies, are trotted out to show their paces, and are| looking fellow enough—when he’s not seen beside Willie,

The hcart of faith, the open brow. | Or them,” said De Rohan. “ Well, we'll see about it. knocked dowd to the highest bidder. A ball-room always | who bas~an air of good blood about him which takes the The trust that once was all in all ; I dare say [ shall be Tom’s commissariat in the matrimonia! = is — of = Saat ron Y ard. Gent! shine omnes ee — an, aon —— meee in his

‘department, and if I can do anything for your cousins, | ivia looked athim with superb disdain. ‘* Gentlemen | ways that nobody else can imitate. e took Goring up to :

Nor when Ah, faded, spectral sheet, will. Didn’t you say they were cauaian to town ?” with such ideas of women had better never bid for a wife, or | St. John’s Wood, where the Lessingham girls were going to 2

4 ‘ith - long-perished wrong and time, “Tn a day or two, to stay with my wother, and Goring | they may find one that will turn restive at being estimated | stay for some time, very rie ae are wo to leave their a orbear! the spirit starts to meet Ib ” no higher than his hunter or his hack. Every woman will|own little dismal village on the Norfolk coast, where the “ v “esi ap oat e here by then, J : ; repo 4 The resurrection of its crime ' Pee Saute turning. matchmaker! By George, what a| not so easily submit to‘ that atien tyranny,’ with its dynastic -eaught anemones instead of conquest, and had nothing nicer

a , 5 a ‘ . a ‘ 6” E yf - 9 at ba . . .-

bi, Siar Ot id oe novel role!” laughed De Rohan. * I say, I’m going to dine | reasons of larger bones and stronger sinews.” to fascinate than the coast-guardsman or a puritanical : As some detected changeling elf, at Riehmond with Ferrers and Maberley. We want a a ep lap. ea . ame a —— wrt happy eae ell Tom, which do you like the best ?” asked D .

Doomed, with strange agony and doubt, narts ree: you may as well come. Do.” ull their necks are under the yoke of that ‘a len tyranny. r ’ ee ; ‘ e To enter on his Suet a. ras Tes well desi D And go we did accordingly. As soon as our poor friend Goring arvives, he will be sur- Rohan, the first night we dined there, when my mother had

De Rohan, Goring, wah I ‘eh. 9 ae boys together at one| rounded by clever mammas, like skilful feather weights, given the move and we were left to that plesent period of un-

ee ae ou rest ee . of our great’ public schools, no matter which, and chums ever bringing their darlings up to the winning post. limited claret and a chat _— St en ae No further !—’tis a page turned o er, Saale Ps wk ebad\ @ th. all the! Vivia broke ber crayon with impatient disgust. My |like myself shou!d enjoy still more thoroughly, if we didn’t

“a the long dead - — ao aes she an ee a mm a dikes mother smiled. “I dare say Mr. Goring will not be long | know how the poor girls in the drawing room were watching

ais Neeshie ee Cod ae aaa eta foreign a out. af hr, JBsitinh weRtas before be finds someboly willing to share bis two thousand aj and wanting. us to come up stairs for coffee, singing and Gm Stlentic Nip s: scent > pend Bveh Whpse Uescont IS IrsveU UP CU Eadie), Cirtation, . jah’s courser, takes it out of some pretentious cult who can} “If be - -. ~~ - ~~ ne ty Vint « T like that little spirited. plucky one who hits rapartees 3 UNDER THE VIOLETS. go no further back than to a winner of sweepstakes or Inn-| “ I should advise him to go about with a placard before him, /80 sharp at you, and looks 80 disdainfally - = lor having ain keepers’ Plates. Willie’s governor had dropped his title{‘ A Wife Wanted. he bidder worth two thousand a year.’ vegetated for ten years in a warry,” answered Goring eating

Mer hands ate cold’; her face ic white ; a had to fly for his life, and Willie, living in the [t will advertise his intentions admirably.” his-olives leisurely. I dare say they tasted doubly delicious No more her pulecs come and go ; Middle Temple and going the Home Circuit, with about # Oh! he won’t need to take that trouble,” said Willie, | after two lustres of damper and tough mutton.

Her eyes are shut to life and light ;— £400 a year, was given to calling himself a beggar, and with a side glance to me, as much as to say what fun it was} ‘I said you would,” laughed De Rohan, “ She's very ; Fold the white vestures, snow on snow, finging pointed sarcasms at the difference between his name | t hear ber. * His only difficulty will be the superabundance | amusing, isn't she ? Try if you can’t conquer her disdain.” i And lay her where the violets blow. = bis means. Will “om a gre mt ie eut me and | of ao. i 03 to ‘* Qh! I don’t suppose it would be very difficult,” arswer-

om out in society as he used to do in football, swimming,| ‘+o hear you, one would imagine the Bush was a species|ed Tom, contentedly. ‘Not that I’m a vain man, as you

Per eae ear tanticnes cet, and ericket. He'd the handsome clear-cut intellectual | of Jannat al Aden,” retorted Vy, quickly, ** and not a| know, Willie, but ladies don’t generally decline good cc

A slender cross of wood alone features of his race, and all the women he met fell in love| Wretched existence, a cross between a savage and a general | ments.” ; Shall say, that here maiden lies with his “ dear dark eyes,” as girls termed ‘em, as naturally | Servant, with damper for your only delieacy, and black snakes{_ When we went up stairs I saw Miss Vy singing away if In peace beneath the peaceful skies. as I take my pipe of Cavendish before turning in. Willie| fr your companions; if he want a wife, he must search | impassioned style, her face full of light and animation, and I “

had made love, too, plenty of it, in his time, though’ he | #™@ong cooks and: laundresses; nobody else will sweep out| wondered if “ good settlements” would eventually buy her z And gray old trees of _—— 4 chose to call it bosh now. His pluck and energy and high his warry.” : ‘bright eyes and clever. brain, and myriad accomplishments. “3 T Sh = et ee pte round, spirits made him go fast, as young fellows will; and Ldon't} “ Yes they will, Miss Lessingham,” laughed De Rohan. }* Thank you, Miss Lessinghhm,” said Goring, going up to 5 eg “That Rae oetteiios tien the ground suppose, wher he and [ and Goring did the grand when we| “ Tom's not a wild man of the woods; he wants a pretty|her. ‘After ten years’ exile from sweet sounds, a song like | And drop their dead leaves on her mound. were about twenty, that any wilder men patronised the ria girl, to ee that is, indeed, delightful.” _— | Chateau des Fleurs, wore dominoes at ba!s d’Opera, and took| _‘* Grace his soirees, | suppose, and head his dinner table,” | | Vivia bent her head and looked a little bored, I should :

When o’er their boughs the squirrels run, | grisettes to the Bois du Boulogne. Oh! the jolly days when | Said the young lady, sarcastically. thiuk that any person of tastes primitive enough to like at And through their leaves the robins call, |we sang with hearts as light as the wine with which we| ‘‘ And he’ll find plenty, I don’t doubt,” continued Willie, living where the chattering of macaws is the best music to se

And, ripening in the autumn sun, washed them down, and made love as free and evanescent as|Composedly. ‘* There are too many girls now-a-days who, | be heard can scarcely care much about it,” she said with a es. The acorns and the ses oo ‘ the perfumy smoke curling out of our meerschaums. You unless they can get a home of their own, have to turn out shrugof her shoulders to De Rohan. Poor Tom was happily ee Doubt not that she will heed them all. remember days like those, too, don’t you, ami lecteur? The ca Or companions, for a man like Goring to be | out of earshot. es

. ‘ ; . first-rate Steinberg you drink now hasn’t got the flavour that | © iged to throw his float in twice.” * T don’t know that there are such things as duty, ci ° sy

For her the morning choir shall sing . “Td: to th ° cr o & uty, circum oe Its matins from the branches high, bad Hoe had, and the fine cheroot you smoke, in fear and dare say, to those who think so meanly of all women | stance, obligation 3)

And every minstrel-voice of spring, trembling lest madame up in the drawing-room should scent | #8 to imagine they only marry for a home, the rejection of | ‘* There ean be never any obligation to renounce the civili- i That trills beneath the April sky, it out, hasn’t the fragrance of that cabbage-leaf tobacco, eh ?; #2000 a year does sect a fabulous folly,” said Miss Vy, zation (result of skill and experience of ages) and reduce ve5 Shall greet her with its earliest cry. Well, we came back. De’ Rohun and I entered sur names | With immense dignity, rising and sweeping past De Rohan } yourself to the level of an illiterate and brainless boor, un- a

: : can . at Middle Temple, and Goring, after his Paris life, had no| t® the piano, where, at my mother’s entreaty, she sang the/ less you have the animal tastes that lead you to prefer such ‘.

When, wo rome = 1 seven ’ taste to accept the quiet living his governor had in his gift | “ Power of Love,” and sang it very well too, an existence,” answered Vy, with profound contempt. Pe

seat aamaal hrcache og sled te Sank pas, (Goring senior’s a county M. P. and a crusty old cove), and “ That’s the one,” said De Rohan, as we'drove away after! ‘* Well ! dear me, why shouldn’t we use our hands instead ;

The crickets, sliding through den grase, made up his mind to levaht & New Zealand. [is governor | !uncheon. ___ | of our brains if we like,” said’ Willie, who loved to tease her. #

Shall pipe for her an evening mass. told him he could do as he liked; what was Todi to him—}__‘“ Do you mean Mande 2” said I, for I'd just been thinking ‘‘ There in the bush we are free from the trammels of society ; 2 only one among many. ‘Tom told him he’d rather shear| Maude was too pretty for the Bush. if we cook our own dinners, we’re not obliged to say grace

At last the rootlets of the trees sheep than take orders, and so it came to pass that one morn-|__“ No, no; that little pluck, accomplished, amusing thing. | utiless we like; if we don’t know precisely what opera is the Shall find the prison where she lies, ing Willie and I saw him off on board a clipper for Nelson, | 1 bet youshe’s the one Tom will like, and it will be such fun | favorite nor which minister is uppermost, we are developing

= _ the oe dle yr val and I don’t think De Rohan was ever more down in his . see her — and shipped off to the Bush, after all her | our muscles, strengthening our limbs, and enjoying the facul-

n leaves an skies. b in his life than he was about losing his old ch [| eloquent tirades against it.’’ ties nature has given us.” d it rise! mouth to g chum. yee So may the sun that warmed it ri myself wasn’t sorry Tom was gone. I was very fond of De| ‘* But perbaps she wouldn’t go?” “So does Bill Stubbs, our garden-boy ; but I can’t say

xe sen: ersanetine tibet, bent Heban, a “ was j ealous of any other man be liked, oa ne eae : Dignh you tell ae she was one . me _ benelits - generation much, . is a ao. Ee Should ask, What maiden lies below young fellow is sometimes jealous over his pet Pylaties: nine children, aud would have to go out as a governess if| ideal to set up for imitation,” retorted Vy, quickly. * sor

Say only this: A tender bud, Fourteen years had passed. By Jove! [ shall be finding | nobody took eempassion upon her? Of course she’ll go. man who can yolupiarily spend his days shearing sheep and

uat tried to blossom in the snow, my first gray hair ina few years. De Rohan and I went Women talk a great deal about disinterested affection, but I shooting quails, with his herdsmen for companions and sava- yg ed oe da violets blow. the circuit, he, young though he was, astonishing the old aa saw = ~ them — it the moment after good} ges for neighbours; buried away out of all intellectual life, Atlantic Monthly, Oct. é etagers, [ ean tell you, when he did get a junior’s brief, 52ttlements offer ,” said Willie, whose experience bad made | can have little elevated feeling in him,” tre taking occasional runs up the Riine or down the Mediter- | os oe sceptical, — back in the Hansom and} ‘“ Well, what good does the intellectual and elevated feel- Pet ranean, shooting blackcock on the moors, and trolling in the | lighting a cheroot. As I’ve toid you, Willie is a splendid | ing, and all the rest of it, do a man?” urged De Rohan. t COMING HOME FOR A WIFE. Wye or the Severn whenever we could, and boring ourselves | fellow, and his feelings, when they are roused, are very hot, “Here are good examples in Goring and myself. He’s cul- p . a eal a sie ibied, Lak drums, crushes, whitebait dinners, and Star and Garter. and strong ; but his family, to my mind, hadn’t ever under- | tivated the animal strevgth that you so coutemn, and is on eS 1,—WILLIE DE ROHAN AND MYSELF; A} sos 1 luncheons, while Tom was living his nomadie life in patri-| Stood him : they weren’t fond of him, nor he of them. He'd) the high road to be a rich, prosperous man ; and here am I, 1 oe

“T say, Mount, who the deuce do you think is coming | archal fashion among his herds and flocks, retrograding in | been knocked about in the world, which, as we know by | who have kept to an ‘ intellectual’ profession, am not much home? Guess. You can’t? Why, Goring—dear old Tom ! | givijisation as far as ever he could, and trying hard, I dare | Sa0wballs, has sometimes a hardening process; he’d never better off than a beggar; which is the best ?” noe I’d a letter from him this morniog, written just before he| say, to think he enjoyed it. /seen any clever women who were not actresses, nor any) ‘‘ You might as well ask me which is the most euphonious ©. started from Nelson. Ten years, as I live, since we paw | ll ee | affectionate ones who weren't fools, and his experience had name, historic William De Rohan or plain Tom Goring,” him. Poor old Tom!” : 7 : ae naturally given him anything but a high opinion of the beau said Vivia,@vith immeasurable scorn. ‘I don’t wish to dis-

So spake my chum De Rohan, bursting into my chambers! “ Let’s see,” said De Rohan, as we drove in a Hansom to | sex. But Wille hada very warm heart under his sarcasm, parage your friead—he is a very nice man, I dare say-—but x as I sat drinking Glenlivet and reading a yellow-papered my mother’s house, up in St. John’s Wood, taking out Go-| and though he was given to repeating the burden of the to acknowledge that to Jead a life about as refined as the a roman. “ Goring?” I repeated, in bewilderment ; ‘ my | ring’s letter, * Tom says, * I’m coming home for a wife, and sturdy miller’s song, “I care for nobody, no not I, and no- ‘ancient Britons, and realise a few thousands by the time os dear Will, you don’t mean it. ’Pon my life, I’m delighted! mean to take back a pretty, accomplished girl, who'll put me body eares fot me,” would have been glad to find somebody you are unable to enjoy them, aud must spend them on nur- A I’ve mourned over him as quite as much buried away from in mind of old times, to be mistress of my new house, which to care for him for all that. |ses and gout-stools, is better than to eultivate your talents Ue anything like life as if he were under one of those tipsy- is just three parts built of the finest timber you ever,’ &e.&c.| One morning late, when I was sitting at breakfast (I’d among books and people that sharpen your intellect and te looking tombstones up at Kensal-green. Will he bring his Well, Mount, will any of your cousins answer that ?” been waltzing with Maude till five that morning), my boy, awaken your ambition, that give your youth enjoyment and se

I hope not—I hate ‘See for yourself,” said I,“ for here we are. The young who is cautious in admitting callers, since he has bad many | your manhood use, is really more than l ean do.” And Vy | ladies little know they're on : trial — the commissary- duns and ate clients to deal with in his time, after some

“ fl nt, clear up your queer ideas of matrimonial. Do your best for ’em, old boy.” __ parley showed in a man, tall, bronzed walnut colour, with a cnet an tanae we sass or he'll Mak they'ré very “That's Bertie Mounteagle, 1 kuow. What a horrid | beard down to his waist. I shouldn’t have known bim one very shadowy, to say the least, for a (should-be) well read bore, just as that dear Vavasour is in such trouble!” cried bit. Ten years of the Bush had altered him as much as ten embryo @.C. He'll be here some time next week, I sup- one of my cousins, shutting a Parlour Library book as the | Seasons’ hard running after obstinate eligibles will alter a pose. He’s made a fortunc out there one way and another ;| Buttons opened the drawing-room door. |pretty fresh debutante into a rouged, tinted, and padded

squaw and all the papooses with him ?

idols eiteail stopped, quite out of breath, and played with her fan impa-

tiently. =

Willie laughed. ‘ I’m not of your opinion, Miss Lessing- ; ham, and [ often think I shal! throw cares and briefs to the winds, and turn my back for ever on London fog, to go and enjoy myself, fishing for cod, and camping out to shoot pigs

gold turoed up on his laud among other things, lucky dog | “I'm sorry I’m a bore, ma cousine ; it’s the first time [ passee belle. .and bandicots with Tom among the primeval woods aud Bs Ke ('m afraid we might dig a long time in the Temple-gardens | was ever thought so,” said I, going up to a young lady, who, |

Poor old Tom! how he and I and Willie did.talk ! How ferns.” aya