e herself--"

I will spare the reader what I said about Eve herself! Suffice it to
say that after an enthusiastic account of her mental and physical
qualities, in which, however, I carefully refrained from exaggeration,
and giving a brief outline of my recent experiences, I wound up
with,--"And now, dear father, forgive me if I have done wrong in all
this, and make up your mind to come out here and live with us, or take a
farm of your own near to us. You know there is nothing to tie you to
the old country; you were always fond of the idea of emigrating to the
backwoods; your small income will go twice as far here as there, if
properly laid out, and you'll live twice as long. Come, dear dad, if
you love me. I can't get married till you come. Ever believe me, your
affectionate son--George Maxby."

Reader, shall we visit the dear old man in his dingy little house in old
England while he peruses the foregoing letter? Yes, let us go. It is
worth while travelling between four and five thousand miles to see him
read it. Perhaps, if you are a critical reader, you may ask, "But how
came _you_ to know how the old gentleman received the letter?" Well,
although the question is impertinent, I will answer it.

I have a small cousin of about ten years of age. She dwells with my
father, and is an exceedingly sharp and precocious little girl. She
chanced to be in the parlour waiting for my father--who was rather given
to being late for breakfast--when my letter arrived. The familiar
domestic cat was also waiting for him. It had mounted the table and sat
glaring at the butter and cream, but, being aware that stealing was
wrong, or that the presence of Cousin Maggie was prohibitive, it
practised self-denial. Finding a story-book, my cousin sat down on the
window seat behind the curtain and became absorbed--so much absorbed
that she failed to notice the entrance of my father; failed to hear
his--"Ha! a letter from Punch at last!"--and was only roused to outward
events by the crash which ensued when my father smote the table with his
fist and exclaimed, "im-possible!" The cups and saucers almost sprang
into the air. The cat did so completely, and retired in horror to the
furthest corner of the room. Recovering itself, however, it soon
returned to its familiar post of observation on the table. Not so
Cousin Maggie, who, observing that she was unperceived, and feeling
somewhat shocked as well as curious, sat quite still, w