GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, November 1850

FURNISHING;

OR, TWO WAYS OF COMMENCING LIFE.

BY ALICE B. NEAL.

"YOU don't know how glad I am to see you! How did you happen to come just at the very time I wanted you?"

And then followed a succession of kisses, such as all fashionable young ladies bestow upon their friends when they meet, as Adelaide Mercer assisted her cousin to alight from the "cab" drawn up in front of her father's stately mansion.

Carpet-bags and bundles followed the two young ladies up the steps, in the arms of Jackson, the footman; and here the visitor was met by Mrs. Mercer, a tall, youthfully-dressed woman, who bade Adelaide show her cousin up stairs at once, as the dressing-bell had rung.

But there were no signs of a toilet, for, shawls thrown aside and dressing-gowns assumed, the cousins seated themselves in lounging-chairs each side the glowing anthracite fire, which a cool fall evning made very comfortable, and were soon sailing down a stream of chat at the rate of nine knots an hour. No wonder; they had not met in a whole year, and were really very fond of each other; and, besides, Adelaide was engaged. Yes, positively a fianee; and she had so much to say of "George" and his family - how fond they were of her, and how soon they were to be married - "George and Addy" that was, not the whole family - and next week she was going to commence furnishing.

"You have such exquisite taste, Anne, that I've thought ever so many times I'd give anything to have you assist us; and here you are. How in the name of wonder did you happen to come?"

And now it was Anne's turn to confess; and, with more blushes than had deepened the color of Adelaide's cheek, the secret came out. The quiet little country cousin was also engaged, and her errand to the city was not dissimilar to Adelaide's coming occupations.

"Oh, I am so delighted!" said the giddy young creature. "Oh, of all things - only now you can't be my bridesmaid; and I had counted on that. And tell me all about him. Robert Sanford, what a nice name! and, of course, he's handsome and rich. Does he wear a moustache? George's is divine, curls slightly, and his teeth are - ivory is nothing to them! Does Mr. Sanford polka? To tell the truth, it was seeing George polka with Miss Lewis that made me wish an introduction; and then wasn't it strange we should both be in love at first sight?"

Anne did not know whether Robert could polka or not; she had never seen him dance. Addy would see that he looked too grave and quiet, somehow, for that. No one wore moutaches in Eastport. But he had very fine whiskers and beautiful eyes.

"Well, I made up my mind, when I first came out, just what sort of a man I wished to marry. Oh, you ought to see George on horseback! I often tell him he is more fond of his horse than he is of me; but, then, I don't wonder - Prince is such a splendid fellow, as black as jet. Who's making your things?"

The last expression, dear reader, is a feminine abbreviation for wardrobe, and, to a young lady on the eve of marriage, there are few more important subjects. Copperfield is not the only lover who has had reason to complain that "they make a lay figure of my darling," only the lay figure becomes very animated with the "trying on," and does not keep in character as a general thing. The fair fiancee informed her cousin that Madame Wharter was already engaged on some of her dresses; that one dress was to be an embroidered silk robe, direct from Paris; Levy was expecting it every day.

"I wish you'd have one like it. How nice that would be! It's only two hundred dollars! Shamefully cheap, considering it needs no lace; but, then, I'll make it up in my veil."

Anne looked up in amazement. The whole of her ample wardrobe, with the exception of one dress to be purchased in town, might be covered by the sum her cousin had just named as so insignificant. But she was a prudent lassie, and did not think it worth while to shock Adelaide in turn.

The dinner bell pealed through the hall just at this juncture, startling the two gossips, who sprang to their feet in haste. Adelaide submitted herself to the hands of the waiting-maid, whose services were divided between her mother and herself; and Anne's simple toilet was completed long before the beauty's luxuriant hair had received the peculiar twist which fashion demanded. Then she had leisure to admire the beautiful dresses that were in turn displayed for Adelaide's selection,and to remark that none of them had sleeves longer than the cape of the close-fitting cashmere in which she was arrayed.

"What! are you going to wear that thin barege such a cold night as this - low neck and no sleeves? Are you not afraid to taking cold? - or are you going to a party?"

"A cold! why we in the city never think of taking cold. No, it is too early for parties; but there are always more or less people in, and George at any rate. He admires my taste for dress above all things, and never can bear to see me in long sleeves. I declare, dessert will be on the table if we do not hurry. Jane, you stupid creature, that is a half-mourning bracelet instead of my blue enamel."

The prophecy was fulfilled; for Mr. Mercer sat with his wine before him, and his wife was uneasily trolling her richly chased napkin ring when the young ladies entered the dining-room. But Miss Adelaide's delinquency seemed no unusual occurence, for she was met with no reproof, and Mr. Mercer, the most polite of hosts, welcomed his niece with a very proper and gentlemanly perssure of the hand. "George" - Mr. Howard - was announced before the formal meal was concluded, and his betrothed flew away to welcome him with many pretty chidings for being so late, and failing to meet her at Levy's in the morning. Her cousin followed with no little interest, for she expected her fastidious cousin's taste had been satisfied with nothing short of the utmost nobility and elegance. We must confess there was something of disappointment in the glance she cast upon a tall, slightly-formed young man, whose chief distinction lay in a delicate moustache, evidently "loved and cherished" by the wearer. But he was very young and good tempered, and Anne was compelled to acknowledge sufficiently agreeable, for she passed a very pleasant evening, the bridesmaids elect, with their escorts, coming in to increase the family party. To be sure, the conversation was not very instructive nor very brilliant, as it turned on the opera and the movements of their immediate friends. "Anna Lundin's engagement to young Smith; Dr. Colton's attentions to Miss Lawson, and whether they were serious; and Miss Wilson's opening on the next Monday," were the principal topics. But, if not intellectual, it was entertaining as far as good-natured repartee from Mr. Howard, and sarcastic scandal from Miss Lane, the first bridesmaid, could make it; and Adelaide protested it was one of the pleasantest evenings she had ever passed. In fact, she was so wearied with enjoyment, that she nearly fell asleep over her curl papers, and was in bed before Anne had finished unpacking. Her cousin stooped down to kiss her young and fair forehead, and the red lips, half curled with a smile at some remembered jest that was haunting her dreams, and then returned to the dressing-room to read over again a little note of farewell that she had received at parting from her lover. Nor did she sleep until, kneeling by her bedside, she had silently commended the dear one to the protection of a watchful Providence, asking for strength to be to him a true and faithful wife. The heart never seems in closer communion with its beloved ones than when calling the blessing of Heaven upon them in absence, and Anne felt this as her happy senses sank into a calm and gentle sleep.

Sunday, Mr. Howard was in attendance upon his betrothed nearly all day, and Anne had time to attend church by herself in the afternoon. She sat in the old family pew, and used a prayer-book that had belonged to her own mother before she was married. How strange it seemed to see "Anne Mercer" written upon the fly-leaf as she opened it!

"Now we must not sit up to talk to-night," said Addy, after Mr. Howard's departure, "for we have so much to do to-morrow. George tells me that he has concluded to take the largest house of either of those we looked at. It's a new one out Walnut Street, in the most desirable neighborhood you can imagine. Young Mrs. Westhaven has one in the same row, and the Rushtons live almost opposite. Father thought one of that new row in Schuylkill Seventh Street would do; but it was smaller, and, besides, who wants to live in a cross street - unless it be Fourth, between Walnut and Spruce, where a great many old families still live?"

"What, is there a difference in streets that run up and down, and streets that run across?"

"Oh, the greatest in the world! But I can't stop to explain that now. We're going, the first thing, to look at the house, and see what we need; then to Henkels', where everybody buys everything in the furniture line, after we've looked at Miss Wilson's bonnets. How fortunate we're both going on the same errand, as I shall need the carriage all day, and we can now make our purchases together!"

So the next morning, at an earlier hour than Miss Adelaide had seen the sun for many a day, the carriage was announced to be at the door, and Mr. Howard in readiness to attend the ladies.

"Why, can he leave his business as early as this?" asked Anne, somewhat astonished.

"Oh, he's hardly ever at business now. It's an understood thing that, when a partner's engaged, he's not expected to be much in the counting-room. I think it's a shame George should have to be there at all. His father was such a strange man, and left everything to him on condition that he would go in business when he was twenty-three. And papa ought to have retired long before this. I'm sure I don't see why he hasn't. Mr. Louis has, and so has Mr. Lane, long ago."

Mr. Mercer knew very well, however, why he was still obliged to be in the counting-house, when his soul loathed the routine of his daily life. And Miss Addy would not have needed to be told, if she had possessed the slightest knowledge of the real value of the money so lavishly spent upon her elegant house and her elegant self. Mr. Mercer, like many of our merchant princes, commenced the world with a clerkship, and, though he had been wonderfully fortunate, all his acquaintances said, yet few purses could stand the enormous drain of the fine establishment with which he won the hand of the beauty, Ellen Gore, now the still-admired, and still lavishly extravagant, Mrs. Mercer. So, as in many another instance, the owner of that beautiful mansion and the noble horses that stood pawing the sharp stones of the pavement at his door, passed the greater part of the day amid bales and boxes, that his wife and daughter might be, we had almost said, rival belles at expensive watering-places, and the gayest of the gay in their city home.

It was a very complacent and happy party that filled the landau that morning, as it drew up before a large house in the western part of our city. In a very few minutes, Adelaide was polkaing through the dining-room, where she was so soon to entertain her guests, and Anne followed more slowly, wondering how they would dispose of all these rooms. Mrs. Mercer soon called them to an exploring expedition, and Anne's wonder ceased.

"This is a very fine drawing-room," she said, looking around with practiced eyes, "and the smaller one I would fit up as a library. It looks well to have a library nowadays, and they are very convenient for morning receptions. I have taken a peep into the kitchen, which has ranges and everything necessary. So I won't fatigue you, Addy, by such details. This staircase is rather narrow, but now that we have gas everywhere, there are no bronze figures necessary for holding lights; and, I must say, these burners are elegant. Here we have the dining-room, which is of great importance, as Addy will have to give dinners, I suppose. Very fair, though a side window would have improved it. This recess at the side will be George's smoking-room, I suppose. It can be shut off entirely by the folding-doors."

Anne looked around, while Mrs. Mercer dived into a china-closet, and Adelaide, calling gayly to George to follow, ran up stairs. This one room was quite as large as the parlor and sitting-room of her own house. She could scarcely understand why so much space was necessary for two young people. The second story was appropriated before they reached it, in a chamber, dressing-room, and boudoir. The third was to be furnished for guests, as Adelaide enjoyed society so much; and the attic gave rooms for the three servants that would have the care of the household.

"What a task it will be to furnish all this house, Adelaide!" said Anne, when she had admired the pure marble mantels sufficiently to please the exacting girl, "and to take care of it properly afterwards! I should think your father was right, after all, about the one in Seventh Street."

"Why, I was just thinking I did not see how I could possibly get along with less room; and as to all the bother, I sha'n't have any of it."

"But do you like housekeeping, Addy?"

"I shall have nothing to do with it. The servants will attend to all such matters."

"Can you trust everything to servants?"

"I don't see why not, I'm sure. What do you intend to do, pray? Turn grandmother at once and settle down?"

"Mrs. Mercer is waiting," called out George from the door-step; and, after a short drive, our young friends were set down at Miss Wilson's. The gay rooms were crowded with showily-dressed people, selecting their winter costumes; and Adelaide was soon busy in trying on bonnet after bonnet before an oval mirror, attended by an obsequious shopwoman.

"This blue velvet is just the thing, mamma; see," and she nodded the rich flowers complacently. "These white brides are so becoming to me, and I must have it."

So the blue hat was selected at sixteen dollars, and the bridal hat ordered for thirty more; while Anne chose an uncut velvet, as plain as plain could be, without so much as a plume or a sprig of flowers. It was the cheapest one in the room, as Adelaide rather rudely observed as she saw half the sum demanded for the blue velvet drawn from Anne's purse.

"But why do you wear white before you get your bridal hat? You won't want two so much alike."

"This is for that all-important occasion," said Anne, smiling and blushing.

"What! that plain Quaker-like affair? Oh, do have some orange flowers, at least."

But Anne was inflexible; and her cousin was obliged to confess that it was in very good taste and very becoming, when she saw it laid aside with her more costly purchase. George agreed to this opinion, and said something very complimentary to his cousin elect, who had been all this time wondering at the knowledge he evinced of bonnets and head-dresses, as the ladies were trying them on. As Adelaide had said, his own taste was faultless, and from the jeweled cane he carried to the primrose-colored kid gloves he wore, everything was perfectly appointed.

"And here is Henkels' at last," said Addy, as they drove up in front of a large upholsterer's establishment opposite the State House.

Anne was bewildered by the quantity of elegant furniture which surrounded them as they entered the wareroom. Papier machee tables, inlaid cabinets, rosewood sofas, carved so exquisitely that every petal of the flowers in the garland which covered it was distinct, damask satin chairs of crimson and black, orange and green, or, more delicate still, rose-colored and white, were a part of the magnificent articles which they had come to examine. It was enough for Anne to sit quietly on a chair of embroidery so exquisite it seemed wrong to touch it, and admire everything around her. But Adelaide and her mother went from one article to another, examining, admiring, and ordering whatever they fancied.

"These wardrobes are one hundred dollars a piece; you will see that they are a perfect match, and have a mirror in each large panel," said the shopman. "But we have some plainer ones up stairs. Would you choose to walk up, ladies, and see them?"

"Suppose we go," said George, who began, for the first time, to notice Adelaide's extravagant propensities with some alarm.

"Yes, I should like to see some plainer furniture," said Anne; and the party were soon ushered into a second, and yet a third room, not less crowded than those below. Here mahogany and hair cloth held sway, and, though both were of the finest quality, even Anne had to acknowledge that they looked coarse after the delicate rosewood and damask they had just left. Still, the prices sounded alarming to Anne, who had been trusted by her father to make all her purchases alone, as he could not leave his business, and her mother was an invalid. Anne's uncommon judgment and good sense could be relied on, though her gentle, childlike ways gave no promise of the firmness which was her peculiar characteristic.

"This will never do," she thought, as her aunt, whose advice her father had bidden her to ask, pointed to some bedsteads at fifty dollars each as just the thing for her. "Plain and elegant, just what you will need in the country." At the same time, one at a hundred and fifty was put down on Adelaide's list.

"I'm sure, Addy," said her father, who had joined them here, "this set of mahogany will do very well for you. George is just commencing business, and, although he has a good capital, it is as well to be prudent."

"But you give them to me, papa?"

"Still, he must support the style in which you commence."

"Oh, let her have her own way, sir," pleaded George, who was still too much of a lover to endure the least shade upon the fair face of his betrothed.

"It's but a trifle added to one's outlay, after all, and she has set her heart upon that crimson and black damask suite," urged Mrs. Mercer.

So the rosewood parlor furniture was decided on, at a cost we should be afraid to name, black walnut for the dining-room, mahogany richly carved for the chambers, and, after all was done, the party returned to tell Mr. Henkels they would have Sienna marble slabs at eighty dollars, instead of white at twenty-five, for the tables and dressing-bureaus.

"We shall have to come again to-morrow for you," said Adelaide to her cousin, as they re-entered the carriage. "It is now quite time to dress for dinner, and I am thoroughly worn out. I'm afraid housekeeping is a bother, after all."

Anne nodded good-humoredly; but she thought, "Indeed, my dear, if this is what you judge from, you know very little about it;" for Anne was a practical housewife, having had the entire care of her father's family since leaving school; and now she was going to a home of her own, where still greater thrifts and economy would be needed to keep within the slender income of a young country physician.

"Uncle," said she that evening, starting to his side, when the others had left the dining-room, Adelaide expatiating to her mother on the beauties of an exquisite etagere she had just concluded was necessary, "can you tell me where there are cheaper shops than that we were in this morning?"

"I hope my little niece is not a bargain-hunter," said Mr. Mercer, with more playfulness than he ever exhibited before the members of his own family.

"No, not that, uncle. Everything there was so beautiful and so tempting; but papa is not rich like you, and Robert would not think it was right to spend so much money in what was no real use."

"So you think Addy's chaisses legeres and fanteuils are of no use, do you?"

"Oh, they are very elegant; but one of them would half fill my little parlor. If you could see it, sir, you would know what I mean. Besides, father has allowed me only six hundred dollars for everything besides home linen and china, which Aunt Jane promised us long ago, and that would go a very little way at Henkels'."

"You are a dear, good, prudent girl," was the answer; "and though your aunt would tell you a parlor could not be furnished for that, I will trust you to make it go as far as you need. Say as little to them about it as possible, and we will go shopping by ourselves to-morrow."

Of course, Adelaide and her mother wondered very much at this arrangement; but Addy was too good-natured for ridicule, and Mrs. Mercer said nothing. So the one party rolled away in their luxurious carriage to look for a velvet carpet, while Anne and her uncle did not disdain to take an omnibus to Second Street, to which most unfashionable quarter their steps were bound. Here Anne found, to her delight - for she had been somewhat alarmed - that her six hundred dollars returned to its original value in her eyes. Her uncle seemed really interested in all her movements, and Mrs. Mercer would undoubtedly have been shocked could she have seen him gravely examining feathers and settling kitchen furniture, for all this came upon Anne.

"You seem to care more for tin pans than you do for mantel ornaments," said he, as Anne "rung" some mysterious kitchen apparatus. "That's a part of Addy's housekeeping yet to come; two or three hundred dollars at Tyndale's, I suppose. Who's going to see to her kitchen, I wonder."

"Oh, aunt sent an order to a general furnishing establishment this morning, and they are to supply all that is on their list."

"No matter at what cost, I suppose," half murmured Mr. Mercer. "But I don't see that you have bought anything yet."

"The buying is the least part. I'm only making calculations now - seeing what I can afford, you know."

Her uncle could not but admire the bright, cheerful smile with which this was said, and wondered if "furnishing" was, after all, the genuine pleasure to Adelaide, with "carte blance," that Anne found it, exercising all her prudence and tact to get as much as possible with her little allowance.

"What are you figuring over?" called out Adelaide, as she sat basking her little slippered feet in the firelight that evening.

"Calculating," said Anne, and added, as if speaking to herself, "Yes, five dollars off that sofa would get a workstand; and I can't live without a workstand."

"Is it possible you have to think about every dollar so! Poor Anne! I wish uncle was rich, or papa could afford to give you another set like mine."

"Indeed, I don't wish it, Addy. I should not know what to do with it," returned her cousin, simply.

"And what sort of parlor carpet did you get, cherie?"

"A beautiful three ply, wool colors, and green. I thought it would be cheaper, on the whole, than an ingrain. So did uncle."

"Dear me! Mamma chose a velvet at Orne's, and I have Brussels in my own room and the third story. I hate tapestry, they are so common."

"I think those in the parlors are beautiful."

"So I thought; but that was when they first came out. Now they are so cheap that everyone can afford them. A three ply! Why, what sort of chairs and tables are to go with such a carpet?"

"Mahogany chairs with cane seats, and one octagon centre-table. I like a centre-table, it is so cheerful in the winter; and, as our parlor will be Robert's study, we shall sit there a great deal."

"Poor Anne!" soliloquized the petted beauty again, as if she thought cane-bottomed chairs were a great misfortune, and a parlor study an unaccountable ill.

No wonder she could not understand the simple enjoyments which Anne so calmly anticipated. Seeing Anne well educated and truly refined, she had never before felt how far they were separated in future, at least in habit; for the humdrum existence of a village physician's wife would have been intolerable to her.

At last, the busy week was passed, and each bride elect had furnished her new house, or rather the upholsterer would soon give the finishing touch to the elegance of the new house in Walnut Street, while to Anne remained the pleasure of "setting her house in order" with her own hands, busied with a thousand delightful anticipations as her willing feet took unnumbered steps. And, in due time, both houses were occupied, Mrs. George Howard welcoming her friends by a party that was the wonder of the season, while Anne Sanford received the congratulations of her few guests in the "study-parlor," as tasteful a room as one could wish to see. The pleasure of the whole evening was marred for the one, because Deyburgh had disappointed her in a magnificent pyramid of flowers she had ordered for the supper-table; and Anne's heart was filled to overflowing by the unexpected arrival of a richly-toned boudoir piano, which her uncle had sent her, "a reward," so said his note, "for her sensible economy."

"It was all we needed to make the room perfect - all I coveted, I confess, in the whole of those elegant rooms," said Anne, running her hands over the keys in a favorite melody. And though an elegantly embroidered handkerchief from her aunt, and a silver card-case from Adelaide, accompanied her uncle's gift, they were scarcely thought of as that sweet strain recalled to both the early days of their wooing.

We are not fond of startling contrasts or crushing reverses, dear reader; but we are surrounded with them on all sides in real life, and it is our aim to be true to the actual world.

Some three years from the day that Mrs. Howard took possession of her magnificent house, it passed into the hands of her husband's creditors, and, by the same commercial crush, her father's credit was shaken. Every dollar of Mr. Mercer's liabilities was discharged, and the wreck of their fortune was barely sufficient to maintain them at a fashionable boarding-house, in which only Mrs. Mercer declared that she could exist. Her husband, heart-broken as he was by the loss of his cherished business reputation, for, as usual, there were enough ready to say that he had acted dishonorably, had scarcely the heart to object to a publicity which constantly annoyed him, and never ventured a remonstrance. He knew full well that it was, in a great measure, the extravagant expenditure of his household which had wrought the change, the enormous charges for Adelaide's outfit coming due when he was least prepared to meet them; but he never reproached his wife, and still continued, though in a less degree, to minister to her wishes and her whims.

But for poor Adelaide there was a greater trial in store than the loss of her fine establishment. Howard, in whom the shock seemed to arouse a latent energy of character before unknown, decided to go to California, then just opening its golden vista, and attempt, in its rude and fluctuating mercantile world, to retrieve his fallen fortunes. His father's friends proffered their assitance when they saw the idle man of fashion so transformed, although, at the same time, reminding him that a less reckless spirit and a little attention to business would have prevented the necessity of such a step.

And now remained the hardest trial of all, breaking his determination to his wife, who had scarcely looked up from her childlike grief since his misfortunes. What was to become of her in his absence? There was now no father's house to return to, and she could not bear the thought of meeting daily in her changed position the old acquaintances she would encounter under her mother's protection. Just then, like an angel of peace and hope, came a long cheerful letter from cousin Anne, begging her to pay them a visit as long as she would choose to remain, "for Robert was often absent, and, though 'baby' was excellent company, she should enjoy Adelaide's society very much."

And so, when Adelaide found that protestations and tears availed nothing, George, being determined on what she called his "mad scheme," she thankfully accepted Anne's invitation, and became an inmate of her cottage home. We will give one picture from their daily life, a year after this change was made, and leave our readers to conclude whether the dark cloud had indeed a silver lining.

The two young wives were both sitting in the little parlor, Anne employed with her needle, while Adelaide read aloud from some interesting volume. The "three-ply carpet" was still almost as bright as new, and the tint of the simple furniture had deepened to a more mellow hue. There was the open piano, enjoyed so much by both of them, a vase of flowers upon the centre-table, which was loaded with new books and magazines. The little workstand - saved from that pretty sofa, as our readers will recollect - was drawn to the open window, which commanded a view of the road, and there sat our old friend Anne in her pet sewing-chair watching for her husband's return. Now and then a glance was cast towards an open door, where a child's crib, and the quiet, rosy face of the little occupant were just visible. There was deep shadow of tall forest trees upon the grass before the door, and the cool breeze of evening shook the white petals from the rosebush to the low window-sill.

"There he is!" exclaimed Anne, joyfully, as the ring of hoofs upon the gravel caught her ear, and, throwing down her work, she ran out to the garden-gate to meet her husband.

A pang of half sorrow, half envy wrung Adelaide's heart as she watched them coming slowly up the garden walk. One arm Dr. Sanford threw about his wife, who was looking up into his beaming eyes with all the eagerness of a child. Adelaide had never known true and wifelike affection until the parting she could not endure even then to recall; and keenest self-reproach at the thoughtless extravagance which had made it necessary awakened a more gentle and womanly spirit. She felt that the present separation was, in some measure, an expiation for her fault; and you never could have recognized the cheerful, industrious sharer of Anne's domestic duties as the once idle and brilliant Mrs. Howard, unless you knew the trials which had educated her heart as well as intellect. "Only to be with him, no matter in what privation," she thought, as she looked night after night upon the joyful welcome which awaited Dr. Sanford's return. And sometimes she would steal away from the pleasant winter fireside to weep at the thought of the privations her own husband was enduring for her sake.

"What will you give for a letter?" exclaimed Anne, hurrying up to the window, holding a brown envelop so that her cousin could just catch the well-known postmark, "SAN FRANCISCO," and then her eyes were so full of tears that she could scarcely read "My own dear wife," when the seal was broken and its contents in her hands. Her lips still quivered with excitement; but her eyes were very happy when she joined them at the tea-table; and, as they were all so deeply interested in Mr. Howard's success, the letter was, of course, read aloud as soon as she could command her voice sufficiently. She glided very quietly over some portions of it, perhaps thinking them "of no use to any but the owner;" but we have taken the liberty to give it verbatim, that our readers may see the effect of adversity upon the husband as well as wife.

"MY OWN DEAR WIFE: I cannot tell you how very, very happy your letter, received by the last steamer, has made me. I go to my daily tasks with aroused energy and a thankful heart that you are bearing up with such a cheerful spirit under your great misfortunes. Yet I can sacrcely believe all you write of your occupations: 'holding the baby, making cake, taking care of your own wardrobe, and studying three hours a-day.' Why where in the twenty-four hours can you find time for so much industry? After all, it is quite as sensible as fagging round to see people you did not care a straw for, or dancing yourself to death in a close room, waltzing with men it used to make me shiver to see touch your hand, though I could not say anything because they were my friends. Shall I confess it, dear? I used to be a trifle jealous sometimes of the smiles you gave so lavishly to those heartless people; but I know I was as bad as yourself, for many a time I have been called to account for neglecting my pretty wife to flirt with this one and that. I shall expect to get a box from you soon filled with some of that nice cake; and who knows but I shall be surprised by a whole dozen of shirts made by your own dear hand? Don't smile, dear Addy; you could not make a poor fellow a more acceptable present; and how I should enjoy it to know that your little fingers set every stitch with a thought for me!

"I don't believe you would know me now, or own such a rude backwoodsman for a husband, if you should meet me face to face. I wear a moustache from economy now, not from fashion - that is, I never shave, and am kept in countenance by half the inhabitants. I can't say how often I get clean linen, for fear I might shock you; and as to gloves, I think my hands have forgotten they ever had such genteel acquaintances. I have just attained to the luxury of a settee in my office, by a late arrival from Canton, which is at once my 'chair of state' and my bed, with the addition of a blanket at night. But we are gradually getting more civilized, and, by the time I get rich enough to put up a little house and send for you (don't say no, and shake your head so positively), we shall be quite comfortable, I dare say, particularly as Anne has taught you such qualities of housekeeping. I get more and more fond of California every day. I never saw such kindness of heart as is here exhibited by man to man, or such noble generosity of character as the peculiar position of all parties calls forth. I often wrap my blanket closer, as the chill night wind comes whistling up from the bay, and ask myself if I can be the idle, good-for-nothing dog that used to lounge up and down Chestnut Street, or fit kid gloves at Levy's counter. Imagine our rosewood furniture out here! No Addy, you shall have the best of pine, or perhaps bamboo, when you commence the world over again in San Francisco."

"Business is very brisk, and, if I only had you here, I should be perfectly contented. But, God willing, dear wife, we shall meet before long, and our love will be all the stronger for the misfortunes that have made us reasonable human beings, and the separation which, after all, has but united us the more closely. They who have never known the anguish of parting cannot feel the joy of such a meeting as ours will be."

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