displayeth her fashion abilities and feedeth well; whense itt cometh
that shee eteth verie little at hir dynnere, and ye strangere who is
wythin her gates, and knoweth nott of ye lunchceone, mervayleth gretlye
at her slendere diet. Butt verylye shee hathe oftetymes a fyrste-rate
tyme at luncheon, and no mystake.

In wyntere she skateth on ye Centrall Ponde righte splendidlie, for
shee is _faste_ of hir nature, albeit shee shunneth the word as being
what ye younge menne call 'Bowerye.' Likewyse shee rideth in sleighs
unto Highe Bridge, and hath a partycularlie nyce tyme wyth hir beau, or
anie other man who is _comme yl faut_. On Sundaye mornynges itt is a
fayre sighte to see her going to and fro churche in a _chapeau de Paris
de la dernyere agonie_, bearyng a _parasolett a la ripp snap mettez-la
encore debout_ style; and whych shee sayes is like a _homme blase_,
because it is Used Upp. Sundaie afternoon yee may find her in ye
Sixteenth or Twentie-eighth strete Catholic churches, lystening to ye
superbe music and wyshing herselfe an angell. For shee is verie fonde of
musicke (especiallie vocale from a handsome Don Juan tenor-io), and
often singeth sweetlye hirself; and, _per ma fey_, I knowe of one whose
_Te daro un baccio d'amore_ is very killynge indede.

'Wel can she syng and lustely,
None half so well and semely,
And coude make in song such refraining,
It sate her wonder well to singe;
Her voice full clere was and full swete, * *
Her eyen gay and glad also--
That laughden aye in her semblaunt,
First on the mouth by covenant--
I wote no lady so liking.'

And soe shee goeth on thro' lyfe, a large-heartyd, good-natured
soule--stylish to beholde; jollie to talke wyth; greatlye abusyd by ye
six-penny novelists, all of whom are delyghted when shee condescendes to
smile on them; and greatlye admyred in Paris, where shee oftetimes
out-Frensheth ye Frennsh themselves. As for mee, I doe avowe that I
adore her, for as muche as shee is a noble bricke, and, as DAN LYDGATE
sayth, 'a whole teeme, whyppe and alle, wyth a Dalmatian coache-dog
under ye axle.' And thatt shee may go itt like a Countesse whyle shee is
younge, and a Duchesse whenn shee is olde, is ye hearte's prayer of--

CLERKE NICHOLAS.

Does our reader know Loring's in Boston? It is a place of literary
meeting, where one sees those who Athenianize it--poets, philosophers,
ministers, but, above all, the pretty girls wh