The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 275, September 29, 1827

And away they went—and they were hotly pursued, and overtaken, just in time to be too late—which left no other course but that of reconciliation;—and where there is no choice to be made, every body knows there is but one part to be taken.

That occurrence is now three years since, and it was only the other day that I again met the pair of turtles. Dropping in rather late at a card-party, I beheld them sitting vis-a-vis at one of the tables, playing together against an old lady and gentleman, before whom Mrs. L– thought, perhaps, it was not necessary to appear very fashionable towards dear Harry. With the requisite ceremonious unceremoniousness so popular at present, I took a chair behind him, and annoyed him every moment by remarks upon his wife; of course all highly nattering to both.

"My love, you have played that card wrong—very wrong."

"Did I, my dear?" replied Mrs. L. smiling languidly, and looking in his face more as if she was admiring the elegant turn of his forehead, and the spirited expression of his dark eye, than as if she minded what he was saying—"'tis indeed—very."

"'Tis what?"

"Oh! were you not speaking of something? I beg pardon, love—I thought you spoke."

"And so I did, my dear. I told you that card was played most abominably."

"I dare say, my love;—[still gazing in his eyes and smiling]—I know I'm very stupid,"—[playing a card.]

"Well, you have taken a curious way to mend matters—that last play was a thousand degrees worse than the other."

"I dare say, my love,—[looking in his face, and continuing to drawl and simper in the manner which we might imagine of Shakspeare's little shepherdess—

"'Sweet youth chide on—I had rather hear thee chide
Than others woo—'"]

"But tell me, love, when I play wrong," [playing again without taking her eyes from his, even to look at her card.]

"I had much better leave you to yourself," said L.

"'You will be compelled to take refuge in fits of sullenness,'" muttered I, quoting from my former prophecy.

"My dear,"—[pronounced just in the same way as he might have said, 'you fool,']—pray open your eyes."

"Perhaps in rudeness," I continued.

"There again!" cried poor L–, who seemed in danger of being ruined by the admiration of his wife. "It is not possible for a card to be played worse than that. Your head, my dear, must be as confused as your boudoir."

"A bit of bobbin here—a hat feather there," I continued, growing malicious.

"Sir," cried L–, starting round in a passion. Fixing his eyes for a moment on my wooden phiz, however, he burst into a fit of laughter, and then as suddenly assuming a most doleful change of countenance, he squeezed my hand and said to me apart, in a tragic tone, "Ah, my dear friend, you were right—you were right."

"He that would lead a happy married life,
First learn to rule, and then to have, a wife,"

say Beaumont and Fletcher—and a pleasant aphorism it is too—and a wise and useful—but with a slight alteration, a periphrasis comprehending advice not less to the purpose may be presented—

"He that would lead a happy wedded life,
Beware of marrying a too youthful wife."

USEFUL DOMESTIC HINTS

FININGS FOR WINES

If wine does not become clear soon enough, for each forty gallons dissolve an ounce of isinglass in a quart of water. Strain and mix this with part of the liquor, beat it up to a froth, and pour it into the rest; stir the whole well, and bung it up, except there should be an appearance of fermentation; if so, leave the bung out till it has ceased. Instead of isinglass, some use hartshorn shavings, in rather larger quantities; red wines are fined with eggs, twelve to the pipe, beaten up to a froth, mixed with the wine, and well stirred in.

Gypsum or alabaster is used to clear cloudy white wines; as also fresh slaked lime; and the size of a walnut of sugar of lead, with a table spoonful of sal enixum, is put to forty gallons of muddy wine, to clear it; and hence, as the sugar of lead is decomposed, and changed into an insoluble sulphat of lead, which falls to the bottom, the practice is not so dangerous as has been represented.

MANNER OF USING FININGS

Put the finings, when ready, into a pail, with a little of what you are going to fine; whisk them together till they are perfectly mixed, and then nearly fill up the pail with the liquor, whisking it well about again, after which, if the cask be full, take out four or five gallons to make room; take a staff and stir it well; next whisk the finings up, and put them in, stirring well together for five minutes; then drive in the bung, leaving the vent-peg loose for three or four days, after which drive it in tight.

OF FLAVOURING AND COLOURING WINES

The quality of roughness natural to those red wines in which the skins and a portion of the stems have been subjected to the process of fermentation, is readily communicated by astringent substances, and by none more easily or purely than by catechu and kino, substances free from injurious flavour; the sloe is also used; similar roughness, accompanied with flavour, is given by the chips of oak and beech; and if logwood and walnut peels are used, the astringency will also be united to a portion of colour and flavour. All these substances may be rendered highly useful in giving positive qualities to insipid wines. A simple infusion alone is necessary, in such proportion as the exigencies may require; care being taken to rack and fine the wine after the desired effect has been obtained.—The Vintner's Guide.

THE GATHERER

"I am but a Gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff."—Wotton.

BIRDS POISONING THEIR YOUNG

Mr. Holmes, in his "Account of the United States of America," relates that some of the birds of North America are remarkable for poisoning their young; but this is only done if they are encaged or confined. The robin is one of the birds thus noticed. If the young be taken, and placed in a cage where the parent birds can discover them, they will attend upon and feed them for a season; but after the lapse of a few days, or when the young are fledged, the old ones appear very uneasy, and endeavour to discover some way by which they may escape. If, however, they perceive that there is no hope of accomplishing their purpose, they procure for them a sort of berry, which is an infallible poison; apparently disdaining the thought that their offspring should be slaves!

A CONNOISSEUR

Vernet relates, that he was once employed to paint a landscape, with a cave, and St. Jerome in it; he accordingly painted the landscape, with St. Jerome at the entrance of the cave. When he delivered the picture, the purchaser, who understood nothing of perspective, said, "the landscape and the cave are well made, but St. Jerome is not in the cave."—"I understand you, sir," replied Vernet, "I will alter it." He therefore took the painting, and made the shade darker, so that the saint seemed to sit farther in. The gentleman took the painting; but it again appeared to him that the saint was not in the cave. Vernet then wiped out the figure, and gave it to the gentleman, who seemed perfectly satisfied. Whenever he saw strangers to whom he showed the picture, he said, "Here you see a picture by Vernet, with St. Jerome in the cave." "But we cannot see the saint," replied the visiters. "Excuse me, gentlemen," answered the possessor, "he is there; for I have seen him standing at the entrance, and afterwards farther back; and am therefore quite sure that he is in it."

BLACK MAN'S DREAM

A number of years bygone, a black man, named Peter Cooper, happened to marry a fair lady of Greenock, who did not use him with that tenderness that he conceived himself entitled to. Having tried all other arts to retrieve her lost affections in vain, Peter at last resolved to work upon her fears of punishment in another world for her conduct in this. Pretending, therefore, to awake one morning extravagantly alarmed, his helpmate was full of anxiety to know what was the matter; and having sufficiently, as he thought, whetted her curiosity, by mysteriously hinting that "he could a tale unfold," at length Peter proceeded as follows:—"H—ll of a dream last night. I dream I go to Hebben and rap at de doa, and a gent'man came to de doa wid black coat and powda hair. Whoa dere? Peeta Coopa.—Whoa Peeta Coopa? Am not know you—Not knowa Peeta Coopa! Look de book, Sa.—He take de book, and he look de book, and he could'na find Peeta Coopa.—Den I say, Oh! lad, oh! look again, finda Peeta Coopa in a corna.—He take de book, an he look de book, an at last he finda Peeta Coopa in lilly, lilly (little) corna.—'Peeta Coopa, cook ob de Royal Charlotte ob Greenock.'—Walk in, Sa. Den I walk in, and dere was every ting—all kind of vittal—collyflower too—an I eat, and I drink, and I dance, and I ting, an I neva be done; segar too, by Gum.—Den I say, oh! lad, oh! look for Peeta Coopa wife. He take de book, an he look all oba de book, many, many, many a time, corna an all; and he couldna finda Peeta Coopa wife. Den I say, Oh! lad, oh! look de black book; he take de black book, and he look de black book, and he finda Peeta Coopa wife fust page,—'Peeta-Coopa-wife, buckra-woman, bad-to-her-husband.'"

MAGICAL CLOCK

Droz, a Genevian mechanic, once constructed a clock which was capable of the following surprising movements:—There were seen on it a negro, a dog, and a shepherd; when the clock struck, the shepherd played six tunes on his flute, and the dog approached and fawned upon him. This clock was exhibited to the King of Spain, who was delighted with it. "The gentleness of my dog," said Droz, "is his least merit; if your Majesty touch one of the apples, which you see in the shepherd's basket, you will admire the fidelity of this animal." The King took an apple, and the dog flew at his hand, and barked so loud, that the King's dog, which was in the room, began also to bark; at this the Courtiers, not doubting that it was an affair of witchcraft, hastily left the room, crossing themselves as they went out. The minister of Marine was the only one that ventured to stay. The king having desired him to ask the negro what o'clock it was, the minister obeyed, but he obtained no reply. Droz then observed, that the negro had not yet learned Spanish.