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Read Ebook: Graham's Magazine Vol. XXXIV No. 5 May 1849 by Various Graham George R Editor
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Ebook has 595 lines and 74883 words, and 12 pages
"But none of them have called on Sara," interrupted Mr. Jones.
"But they will--I know that they intend it. Mrs. Macfuss told me the other day that Mrs. Jones entered a room like a Parisian, and that her dress was perfect!" said Marian.
"Shall Mrs. Hill be invited?" asked she in a tone that plainly demanded a negative.
"Might as well," said Mr. Jones, picking his teeth with fashionable ease.
"Poor thing!" sighed Miss Fawney, while her face lengthened as she assumed a look of compassion, "does she go out this winter?"
"Mrs. Jones says her husband does a bad business this season," observed Mrs. J. "She can't get a ball-dress, what's the use of tempting her?"
"Ever principled, my dear Mrs. Jones!" cried Miss Fawney, much affected a second time, but restraining her tears. "However, she might borrow one from her sister," continued she, feeling that the more she dwelt upon Mrs. Hill's reverses, the less inclined Mrs. Jones was to be polite to her.
"D--n it, let 'em come!" said the master of the house, conscious of no reason for slighting people who were never rude. "What's the difference to Sally how they dress! She don't lose by it, does she?"
"You have such a kind heart!" cried Marian, taking his hand, and gazing upon him with a look of two-fold approbation; but Mr. Jones turned away, wondering inwardly "what in heaven's name the girl was forever crying about!"
"Come, Sara, decide! shall the invitation be written, or not?" said he, somewhat impatiently.
"No!" said the lady, positively, for she had just remembered Mrs. Hill's indifference to her costly silk, her new carriage, and Pushaw's fancy cap.
Mrs. Hill was not as cheerful as was her wont, for her prospects did not brighten, and she had been sitting on the steps, thinking, until a few tears rolling over her sweet face, left their glaze, and did not escape Eda's eye of affection. Ever willing to oblige, however, and anxious to resume her usual looks, before her husband should return to mark and grieve over her sadness, she assented.
"Certainly," said Miss Seymour, seating herself and taking her little nephew on her lap, "although you require but a slight change in my humble opinion, to present yourself at Mrs. Jones's door." Fanny smiled and hastened in; but soon returned, looking pretty enough to make the fine lady jealous, in despite of her simple attire. She had that real elegance of manner which Mrs. Jones so much admired in herself, but could not see in others that failed to prosper in the world's estimation.
Seated in the parlors, the sisters had leisure to contemplate the contents of the apartment they had often heard described. Two portraits hung opposite. One represented Mrs. Jones in ball costume, giving the finishing touch to her toilette. On her lap was a very work-box looking casket, out of which she was taking a string of most unequivocal wax-beads, supposed to resemble pearls.
Mr. Jones sat bolt upright, with a book in his hand, looking very learned, and very much puzzled about some weighty question.
But what struck them most was, that on the tables in the corners, stood cake-baskets, covered with doilies, and candlesticks innumerable were disposed about the room, with unlit candles, and curled paper wound around them. Some of the baskets contained cake that plainly looked, "don't touch me yet," and we forgot to mention a tub of rather muddy water that stood in the middle of the folding-doors, on a large oil-cloth, as though the dark damsel, with the very short garments, had been interrupted in the act of scouring paint at this untimely hour.
"Mrs. Jones has scrubbing done at a strange time," said Eda, pointing to the implements before mentioned.
"Hush, Eda! I'm sure that we have called at a very wrong hour," said Fanny, pointing in her turn to the cake and candles. "Does not that look like a bidding of guests to the banquet hall?"
"It does, indeed. What have we done, Fanny? How could we know of such preparations when the stupid girl said her mistress was at home? The idea of scouring at such an hour, too! Housekeeping should be like the mechanism of the clock--we know that it goes, but do not see the operation. When was our house ever seen in such a trim by visiters?"
"You are too good, Fanny; but if you keep your face serious in that absurd way, striving to practice what you preach, I shall shriek out," replied her sister. "Do laugh, if you feel like it."
"I never shall expect one," said Mrs. Hill, smiling, and the servant entered to ask "if Miss Seymour were in the parlor."
"Miss Seymour and Mrs. Hill," said Eda, wondering what was to come next.
"Well, then, marm, Miss Sarly say, that she's been busy all day, and can't see no company. Here's a ticket for you to come to the party. Miss Sarly say she never had no time to send it out in the country, but long's you are here, she told me to fotch it down. They a'nt none for you marm," turning to Fanny.
"I have a mind to send it back to her," cried Eda, in French. "What gross impertinence!"
This was not pleasant, but Mrs. Jones remembered that Mrs. Hill saw no one now, "and, of course, Miss Seymour wont come when her sister is not invited. I wish I had not kept on this old gown, since they spied me out; but, lor! it don't make any difference. I wonder what they said, too; I couldn't tell from here."
So Cilla had the advantage over her mistress in good feeling at least, but she was told to hold her tongue and go to her work, and no one was ever the wiser by it. But as we wish to give only an account of the rise of Mr. and Mrs. John Johnson Jones, we must pay less attention to the little incidents of every-day life.
"The gumbo I have prepared, my love, of course; but the potty dee foy graws I had almost forgotten. Gourmand has quantities of potties, as he is a Frenchman, and imports those articles from Paris direct. I think you said Mrs. Macfuss liked sherbet and lemon ice cream?"
No; Miss Fawney liked vanilla best, and affirmed that Mrs. Macfuss was very partial to it.
"Is she, indeed! Oh, Marian, I had ordered lemon!" cried Mrs. Jones, in dismay. "Come, we'll go to Praline's this instant and reverse it. And those pine apples. They must be rich. Smith! have the carriage round immediately; I'll go up and put on my bonnet, Marian;" and when Mrs. Jones arrived at Praline's her heart dilated as she saw in how much consideration she was held by her confectioner and his wife. They were all smirks and smiles, particularly as she constantly repeated "you know now, Mrs. Praline, that I mind no expense whatever." And Miss Fawney called her an extravagant creature! "But I knew, Mrs. Jones, that when you did give a party, it would be a magnificent affair!"
And so, indeed, it proved. The weather was fine and everybody came. Mrs. Macfuss meeting her own set, and seeing so much display, was reconciled to her new acquaintance. Mr. Macfuss, seeing a magnificent supper and drinking the finest of wines, shook hands with his host, and asked him to come and see him sociably.
There was a pleasant combination of things. The host and hostess said they never would regret the ball, and Miss Fawney was profuse in her congratulations. At length they had reached the goal, and began to feel with Mr. and Mrs. Vincent Crummles, the sweets of popularity.
Mrs. Jones who heard soon after to say that she had scarcely time to take her meals, people so thronged the house; and before she was quite aware of it, she had asked Mrs. Macfuss to come over and be intimate!
One evening, as Mrs. Hill and her brother stood together at the gate of her pretty cottage, a handsome equipage dashed by, filling with dust the mouths of the plebeian pedestrians on either side of the smooth road through Summerfield.
Two ladies were on the back seat, while in front sat two little boys, looking very gravely at one another. The driver had on a coat filled with brass buttons--and this was called a livery; so the whole effect was very grand and imposing.
"Who was that, Fanny?" said young Seymour; "whose carriage is that?"
"The carriage belongs to Mrs. John Johnson Jones, brother. Did you not see her?"
"I did not recognize her--she bowed, did she not?"
"Not she, my good sir; she never bends so low. Could you not see how stiff the lady was?"
"Then who did bow to you just now?"
"Mrs. Macfuss," said Fanny, smiling archly.
"Whew! Whose little innocents were those in front?"
"Master Pushaw Jones and Master Johnny Macfuss."
Mr. Seymour paused.
"Fanny," said he at length, "I'll go to Texas. I see that Mrs. Macfuss has been over, and is intimate!"
LINES TO AN IDEA THAT WOULDN'T "COME."
BY FRANCES S. OSGOOD.
"Why thus longing, thus forever sighing For the far off, unattained and dim?
"Has Hope like the bird in the story, That flitted from tree to tree, With the talisman's glittering glory. Has Hope been that bird to thee?"
Oh! fondly wished for, why delay? This virgin page awaits thee-- It's waited since the dawn of day-- What can it be belates thee?
Thou ne'er wilt find a nicer couch, A softer or a fairer? Thou ne'er wilt find a desk to which Thy coming could be rarer.
Oh! airy rover, rainbow-winged! Oh! coy and cold deceiver! Alight upon this beggar leaf, And bless?d be forever!
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