nigger, sez I,

"What do you stand a grinning at there, woolly head? go and git me a spoon that hain't got no slits in it, I'd as lief eat with a rake as that are thing."

"Ha, ha, haw," larfed out the etarnal black varmint, "I thought you would not make the fork hold."

With that Miss Beebe giggled right out, and cousin John looked as if he would a burst to keep from larfing too.

"Stop your noise, sir," says he to the nigger, "pick up the fork, and give Mr. Slick a spoon."

I begun to feel awful streaked, I can tell you; but I sot down agin, and took up the real spoon, which lay on a kind of towel folded up by my plate, and I begun to eat, without saying a word, though I'd gin a silver dollar if they would a let me got up and licked the nigger.

Wal, arter I'd got a good mouthful of the soup, I couldn't make out what it was made of, for I couldn't remember of ever seeing the name Miss Beebe called it by, in the dictionary. Maybe it's Latin, says I, to myself, and then I tried to think over what it could mean, and if nobody had told me what the definition was in the Latin school which you sent me tu there in Weathersfield. Verminsilly! Verminsilly! Verminsilly! kept a running through my head all the time. I knew what silly meant well enough, and then it popped into my head, all at once, that vermin comes from the Latin vermis, which means worms. Worm soup! my gracious, the very idee of it made me feel awful bad at the stomach! But I might have known it by the looks, and I should if I'd ever heard of sich a thing, for the little slim critters swimming round in the liquor, looked as much like angle-worms biled down white as could be. Arter I found out what it was made of, I rather guess they didn't catch me a eating any more of their verminsilly soup; so I pushed it away half across the table, and wiped my mouth purty considerably with my pocket handkercher. The nigger took the whole on't away, and I declare I was glad enough to get rid of it.

"What on arth have they put this towel here for?" says I to myself; and then I stole a sly look over to cousin Beebe, to see if he'd got one, or if they only gave towels to company. Cousin John had one jest like mine, but he'd spread it out on his lap, so I jest took up mine and kivered over my cashmeres with it tu.

Considering there was no onions on the table, I made out a purty fair dinner. I was a beginning to think about moving when the nigger brought a lot of blue glass bowls about half full of water, and sot one down by each of us. What they could be for I hadn't the least notion, but I kept a bright look out to see what cousin John did, and when I saw him dip his fingers into his bowl and wipe 'em on a sort of red towel which the nigger brought along with the bowls, I jest went over the manœuvre as natural as life.

Wal, while we were talking about the banks, and old times, and Weathersfield folks dying off so, that coot of a nigger cleared the table right off as slick as a whistle, and afore I hardly knew what the fellow was up tu he come along and sot down a set of decanters, and two cider bottles with the necks all covered over with sheet lead, and then he brought two baskets made out of silver, one on 'em was filled chuck full of oranges, and t'other was heaped up with great purple grapes; I declare it eenamost made my mouth water to see the great bunches a hanging over the edge of the basket. I'd jest put a whopper of a bunch on the little Chena plate which the feller set for me, and was considering whether it would be genteel to cut the grapes in tu with the cunning little silver knife which was put by the plate, when all tu once, pop went something, eenamost as loud as a pistol, close by me. I jumped up about the quickest, I can tell you; but it was only the nigger a opening one of the cider bottles; he poured out some for me in a great long glass with a spindle neck, and I drunk it all at a couple of swallers, without stopping to breath. By jingo! but it was capital cider! arter I'd drunk one glass I begun tu feel as spry as a cricket.

"Here, snowball," says I, "give us another; these glasses are awful small; now, I like to drink cider out of a pint mug."

"Take care," says cousin Beebe, "I'm afeard you'll find the cider, as you call it, rather apt to get into your head."

"Not a bit of it," sez I, "I can stand a quart any day. Here, cousin Mary, take another glass, you hain't forgot old times have you? though I s'pose they don't have applecuts and quiltings here in York, du they?"

I don't remember what she said, but I know this, my eyes begun to grow allfired bright, and afore I got up tu go hum that nigger must have put more than twenty baskets of grapes on the table, and the oranges seemed to grow bigger and bigger every minit, and I know there wur more than three times as many glasses and decanters on the table, as there was at fust.

I ruther think it was purty nigh tea time when I got up to go back to the sloop agin. I insisted on giving cousin Mary a buss afore I went; and I won't be sartin, but I kinder seem to remember shaking hands with the nigger, consarn him, jest afore I went down the steps.

I don't feel very bright this morning, and I begin to think that maybe I shall come back to Weathersfield arter all. The York cider don't seem to agree with me. I've felt dredful peaked ever since I drunk it, and kinder hum sick tu boot.

Your loving son,

Jonathan Slick.

LETTER III.

Jonathan visits the Express Office—Sensations on seeing himself in print.

Dear Par:

Since I wrote my last letter there's been no eend to the things that I've had to du. Arter thinking about it eenamost two nights, I about made up my mind tu settle down here in York a spell, and send you a grist of letters now and then, which I mean to git printed in the New York Express, the way I told you of.

I've been up to see the editors, and they want me to stay properly, and I don't think I shall ever git so good a chance to take up this literary way of gitting a living, as they call it, if I don't snap at this offer tu once.

I thought at first that I'd try some other newspaper, and see if I could git a higher bid, but somehow I'd taken a shine to the Express, and thought it wasn't worth while. It warn't because there wasn't papers enough, for you can't step three steps here in York, without stumbling over a little stuck up newspaper office. Besides, there's no eend to the papers carried round in the streets. You can't go any where but some little dirty shaver or other, about knee high to a toad, will stick a paper out under your nose, and ask you to buy it, as crank as can be. Somehow, it kinder seemed to me that the New York Express took the shine off the papers that I'd seen among 'em all, though they was as thick as toads arter a rain storm. I had a notion to write for it from the first, because, think sez I, that prime feller, Major Jack Downing, writes a good deal for it, and I rather think we shall hitch tackle like any thing.

Wal, jest as soon as I made up my mind about it, I went right off, full chisel, to the Express Office. I'd been round there once afore to put my t'other letter into the Post Office, and so the minit I come to the corner of Wall and Nassau Street, and saw a house with the "New York Express Office" writ on the eend, I knew it was the office without asking. So I crossed over, and kinder hung about a leetle, jest to make my heart stop a beating so, afore I went in. I swanny if I ever felt so in my life! I was so anxious about that long letter that I sent to them to get printed for you, that I was