that comes to; we are not
obliged to say that we like nasty filthy chintzes to shew that we
are good patriots."

"Chintzes? what are chintzes?"

"Possible! do you pretend you don't know what chintzes are? Why
the nasty little stinking blood-suckers that all the beds in
London are full of."

I have since been informed that _chinche_ is Spanish for bug; but
at the time the word suggested only the material of a curtain.

Among other instances of that species of modesty so often seen in
America, and so unknown to us, I frequently witnessed one, which,
while it evinced the delicacy of the ladies, gave opportunity for
many lively sallies from the gentlemen. I saw the same sort of
thing repeated on different occasions at least a dozen times;
e.g. a young lady is employed in making a shirt, (which it would
be a symptom of absolute depravity to name), a gentleman enters,
and presently begins the sprightly dialogue with "What are you
making Miss Clarissa?"

"Only a frock for my sister's doll, sir."

"A frock? not possible. Don't I see that it is not a frock?
Come, Miss Clarissa, what is it?"

"Tis just an apron for one of our Negroes, Mr. Smith."

"How can you. Miss Clarissa! why is not the two side joined
together? I expect you were better tell me what it is."

"My! why then Mr. Smith, it is just a pillow-case."

"Now that passes. Miss Clarissa! 'Tis a pillow-case for a giant
then. Shall I guess, Miss?"

"Quit, Mr. Smith; behave yourself, or I'll certainly be affronted."

Before the conversation arrives at this point, both gentleman
and lady are in convulsions of laughter. I once saw a young
lady so hard driven by a wit, that to prove she was making a
bag, and nothing but a bag, she sewed up the ends before his
eyes, shewing it triumphantly, and exclaiming, "there now! what
can you say to that?"

One of my friends startled me one day by saying in an
affectionate, but rather compassionate tone, "How will you bear
to go back to England to live, and to bring up your children in
a country where you know you are considered as no better than
the dirt in the streets?"

I begged she would explain.

"Why, you know I would not affront you for any thing; but the
fact is, we Americans know rather more than you think for, and
certainly if I was in England I should not think of associating
with anything but lords. I have always been among the first
here, and if I travelled I should like to do the same. I don't