Fern Leaves from Fanny's Port-folio.. Fern Fanny

for the struggling bark there were no port of peace! If athwart that lowering cloud sprang no bright bow of promise!

      Alas for Love, if this be all,

      And naught beyond– oh earth!

      MRS. ADOLPHUS SMITH SPORTING THE “BLUE STOCKING.”

      Well, I think I’ll finish that story for the editor of the “Dutchman.” Let me see; where did I leave off? The setting sun was just gilding with his last ray – “Ma, I want some bread and molassess” – (yes, dear,) gilding with his last ray the church spire – “Wife, where’s my Sunday pants?” (Under the bed, dear,) the church spire of Inverness, when a – “There’s nothing under the bed, dear, but your lace cap” – (Perhaps they are in the coal hod in the closet,) when a horseman was seen approaching – “Ma’am, the pertators is out; not one for dinner” – (Take some turnips,) approaching, covered with dust, and – “Wife! the baby has swallowed a button” – (Reverse him, dear – take him by the heels,) and waving in his hand a banner, on which was written – “Ma! I’ve torn my pantaloons” – liberty or death! The inhabitants rushed en masse– “Wife! will you leave off scribbling?” (Don’t be disagreeable, Smith, I’m just getting inspired,) to the public square, where De Begnis, who had been secretly – “Butcher wants to see you, ma’am” – secretly informed of the traitors’ – “Forgot which you said, ma’am, sausages or mutton chop” – movements, gave orders to fire; not less than twenty – “My gracious! Smith, you haven’t been reversing that child all this time; he’s as black as your coat; and that boy of yours has torn up the first sheet of my manuscript. There! it’s no use for a married woman to cultivate her intellect. – Smith, hand me those twins.”