Mr. Snagg, who says that 'that d-d dog is enough to kill any story, and that for his part, he does n't think much of Stites; never did, and never will; and that a single hair of Slaughter's tail was worth Stites' marrow, fat and kidneys, all done up together.'

It is useless to argue with him; and I find the most judicious mode of disposing of the matter is to let the question remain unanswered; by which means he soon comes round, begins to discover a few merits in the manuscript, and finally concludes with a warm panegyric upon Mr. STITES himself, always however with a reservation as to the dog, whom he swears he never shall be able to stomach.'

The same

In all respects, my quiet old home remains as it was. mystery hangs about it as formerly. The interest which for a time was excited respecting it, when I gave an account of the murder which had left it shunned and tenantless, has died away; and with the exception of Mr. Snagg, Mr. Stites, and my dog, I have few visiters. Perhaps it is best that it should be so; for I have the spectres of no hard feelings nor bitter thoughts, nor painful recollections to haunt me, requiring excitement and bustle to drive them off; and old age demands time for solemn thought and serious meditation, to enable it to wean itself from the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.

But no more of myself. My task is ended; and I now bid you farewell! JOHN QUOD.

PROFESSOR SHAW.

A SKETCH.

PLUTARCH SHAW, the naturalist, was lately in the stocks, which has been a matter of much talk among the virtuosi, and a good deal of malicious laughter on all hands. He cut a devil of a figure, rest assured, propped up in a straight jacket, his eye fiery with vengeance; the innocent victim of circumstances,' and that very common error of putting the saddle on the wrong horse. A very little explanation will serve to place this matter in the right light, and show by what a fantastic adventure an honest man, who was alway given to roam over much territory, was suddenly placed upon the limits, and one of the most profound explorers of the curious became himself for the time being a curiosity.

Mr. Shaw is so much of an enthusiast, that it is very unpleasant to stand near him when he is talking about his bugs, or exhibiting his specimens, on account of being spattered all over with the spray of his eloquence. A bat shot down in the dusk of the evening is enough to set him half crazy, and make the saliva fly all over; it rolls and surges against the bulwarks of his jagged teeth in a rabid foam, showers out with his descriptions, and makes him only tolerable at arm's length. The beetles and butterflies which he has transfixed are innumerable; and he is perpetually syringing down the humming-birds, as stationary on vibrating wings, these beautiful creatures of the air plunge their beaks deep into the cups of flowers. With him pin-money is an item. If he marks any thing curious in the natural world, he sticks a pin there,' and keeps it for future reference; any thing from a lady-bug ready to unfold suddenly the gauze upon its hard back, where you would think no wings existed, and fly away, to an offensive black beetle that snuffs the candle, or cracks its head against the wall, thence upward in the scale to the bird which Liberty loves as her sublimest emblem, the proudest of the proud, the bird of our own mountains, and the eagle of our own skies.

"I would not heedlessly set foot upon a worm,'

writes Cowper: not so however with the great Shaw, whose collection of worms is most disgusting; exceeded only by his reptiles preserved in spirits, with all their sickening exhibition of claws. He has got some dragons that fall little short of the Devil himself in general hideousness and outrageous tails; some noots brought from Nootka Sound; some green monsters from Green Bay; some devilish things from Van Diemon's land; and finally, Plutarch is himself hideous, and ought to be put in a collection, which by the by, he lately was. It was a great era in his life time when he shot a wild-cat; that however has nothing to do with the present story, and must be told shortly. He threw a stone at him, it seems, to frighten him out of the bushes, where by dint of

mingly matters were going on. And could he be crusty and dogged? or could he cherish a grudge against her father? The thing was impossible. The extended hand was grasped, and grasped warmly.

Another thing I have to speak of,' said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat at the cordial tone of Ned's feelings. It is but a short time since I learnt the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal of charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed to bear, and were breaking me down. I have not finished,' said he, raising his hand to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring to make; 'let me complete what I have to say, and you may speak as much as you like, afterward. I will not thank you, for thanks are but words, and too often mean nothing. Is there any thing that I can do, to lessen my indebtedness to you?-or is there any way in which I can pay it off altogether?'

He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned's face. The red blood dashed up to Somers' very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for the thumping of his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the time to ask for Kate; nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting a glance at her, and seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast, as if she anticipated what was going on in his mind. It must be confessed, however, that had Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes than that afforded by his words, he would have been very much in the dark; for although Ned attempted to speak out boldly, his lips trembled very much, and his voice was not as obedient as he could wish; and all that was distinctly audible was the girl's name.

'Why lad, what ails thee?' asked Rhoneland, unbending, as he observed the embarrassment of his guest. You used to be as bold as a lion. Come here Kate,' said he to his daughter; this 6 young fellow has lost his voice; can you tell me what he wants?'

It was now Kate's turn to grow confused, and the color to deepen on her cheek; nor did she utter a word.

'Young man,' continued Rhoneland, in a grave tone, 'I did not send for you to trifle with your feelings. You love my daughter, and would ask for her, and you fear to do so lest the request should be refused. She is yours. Treat her kindly, and keep even a shadow of sorrow from falling upon her brow. If you do not, an old man's curse will rest upon you; and even though I be dead, and mouldering in my grave, where my voice cannot reach you, that silent curse will follow you.' He turned abruptly away, and left the room.

Ned Somers took Kate's hand in his; passed his arm about her waist, and drew her to him in so singular a manner, that their lips could not but meet; and not only once, but at least some half-a-dozen times.

'So you're mine at last, Kate!' said he, looking into her very eyes, whenever they were raised enough for him to do so. 'Did I not tell you to cheer up; and that all would be well? Did I not say so; and wasn't I right? And now, Kate,' said he, in a less confident tone, 'your father, though a most worthy old gentleman, is somewhat whimsical, and might change his mind; so when shall it be?'

Kate's reply was so very low, that it reached no ears except those of Ned; but whatever it was, it is certain that on that day month they had been married a week, and were deep in preparations for a merrymaking to be held on that very evening at Rhoneland's old house, which had been so furbished up and renovated, under the auspices of the young couple, that every thing in it seemed to shine again. A party at Jacob Rhoneland's! It was a thing unheard of, and produced quite a sensation in the drowsy part of the town where he lived. Never had a household been in such a fluster as his was. What deep consultations were held to prevent the old man who seemed to have grown quite cheerful and light-hearted, and chirruped about the house like some gay old old cricket from meddling in every thing, and to throw dust in his eyes, so as to make him suppose that he was having every thing in his own way, when in fact he was having nothing. And then what a time it took, and what entreaties, to prevail on him to let the great wooden chest, studded with brass nails, which he never took his eye from, be removed to an upper-chamber, to make room for their guests. But Harry Harson, who was in the thick of all the doings, in and out a dozen times in an hour; rubbing his hands and enjoying the bustle, giving advice, suggesting this thing and that, and setting every thing wrong; managed to get the great chest out of the way, for he dragged it up stairs under Rhoneland's very nose, and in the teeth of his remonstrances; and depositing it in a little out-of-the-way room, very difficult of access, by reason of the angles and turns in the entry, and the size of the chest, told Rhoneland that if he wanted it below he might take it there himself; but that it was better where it was, and much more safe and out of the way; in which opinion Rhoneland finally coincided.

Betimes Kate came down stairs to receive her guests, looking so charmingly, and her eyes flashing with such malicious brightness, that on meeting her in the entry Ned stopped to kiss her, and tell her that she was looking 'gloriously;' a performance and observation by the way, which he had already repeated half-a-dozen times in the course of the last hour. By twos and threes the guests began to arrive, and went up stairs. There was a great clatter above, where they were taking off their things. It took a wonderful time to remove the hats and shawls; for although for a long time up they went, none came down. There must have been thirty assembled above stairs. At last Harry Harson, who was in the room with Ned and Kate, dressed in his best black suit, and looking as young and merry as any of them, vowed that he would not stand it, and sallied up stairs and sent them down in a drove. How bright and cheerful they all were! how the congratulations poured in upon Ned and Kate; and hopes for his future happiness, and that he might have a large fortune, and a large family to help him take care of it.

A loud scraping and jingling announced that the music was there, and put a stop to such flummery as conversation. The young folks were going into the business of the evening. The little stunted black fiddler with rings in his ears, was mounted on one chair; the big, fat fiddler, who fiddled with his eyes shut, was seated on another; and the goggle-eyed negro, with a self-satisfied face, who simpered on every