word of disagreement; and perhaps, too, I| got into the spirit of the character I was enacting, and wished to play it out." "But pray," asked I, "had you no ap no idea that you might not have the option of carrying out your plan?" "That is the way "A wrong way," interrupted she impatiently, "and a most mistaken way. Fashion is not the less indignant at imposture for being itself accessory to the imposition. And what can come of those hollow pretensions? They are easily sounded; and often are so by even ignorant people - the very class most likely to overrate the pretence and underrate the pretender." "But how can you resist Custom? To meet exaction even less than half way, pretension is indispensable. The person who needs employment must submit to the common forms of seeking it. What would you have one do?" "In other words, that Mrs. Glover might dismiss me? Not the least. I counted on making myself acceptable in my proper place, so that she would prefer desisting from all undue demands on me. Besides, I could not have helped observing, that in all households on a certain footing, they who stickle for performance of their own duties are the most prized, the best paid, and the longest kept. And with good reason; they fulfil their duties. If they did not, where would be the Submit, certainly; but in a different way. ⚫ division of labor?' I've been reading Adam Let her lower her pretension to the level at Smith, on Mr. Glover's recommendation,' ," which Fashion sets her skill. On this point, she added, with a smile. at least, I do not preach more than I practised; my own notions decided me to accept the tuition in preference to some higher-paying places that I might have tried. Indeed, I have found more than my account in undertaking rather less than I could do. They all here, I am conscious, overrate my capabilities." "But do you think," said I, " that they can be best liked?” "I think they may be that too, if they choose. The same common sense that would define their ordinary duties would point out where they should overstep all rules to help their fellow-helps. Now I believe that, far from being the helpless victim to the whims of her employer which the governess is represented to be, few of the employed classes can resist imposition more effectually than can my own. "But how? Wealth gives the employer almost unlimited power of change.' There was in all this good sense and good feeling enough to please me, who am neither saint nor Solon, quite. The only fault I found was somewhat of the tone that teaching is apt to give one's mode of speaking. ward. Just then I happened to look across the room, and found that Miss Hurst's speech "And a proportionate indifference or reluct- was reaching ears for which it was not meant. ance to use it, unless to secure an evident ad- Jane and Robby were holding the door ajar vantage. No such advantage can appear slightly, and curiously peering through. How where a governess is able to fulfil her real and long they had been there I could not tell, and positive duties; and therefore I believe she did not ask; that was the business of their may make it depend on her own will and governess, if she chose to hazard a question pleasure to go a hair's breadth beyond. But or reproof. Meantime both had come forI more than suspect one cause of discomfort in the case of many governesses to be, that they are unable to fulfil the terms of their engagement, and, conscious of their inability, they are weak; when over-worked or tried in one direction, they dare not turn on their oppressors; they are afraid of bringing into sight their short-comings in another. what country will you find average governesses' able to perform what they undertake in this ?" 6 In "Breakfast, please, Miss Hurst," said Jane. "How's your foot, Robby?" asked I, of the young urchin, who had clambered behind me, and was treading on my coat-tails. "Tisn't my foot, but my fingers.' "Oh! ay. I beg pardon. Well! and how are they- those mischief-making little digits?" Nothing ails them but the sling, I suspect. That's the sorest part now-eh, Robby?"! said Miss Hurst, as she took the other hand, and walked towards the breakfast-room, Jane and I following. We found our friends at table, Rebecca making tea, and the rest making believe to wait for us.. "Well, good folk!" cried Mrs. Macklin, "But in seeking such situations, they are more or less compelled to connive at the fic-"what were you about this morning?" tion of universal accomplishment." "Miss Hurst was painting," answered "And compelled to get off with not at Jane. home' when called on to make good their pre- "And Cousin Robert listening," added tensions." Robby, "I did not know that colors speak," said | kept my account-between your cousin and Sarah. myself. My object is gained for the present, and it depends on myself to avoid adding to its items." "Some colors do," observed Mrs. Macklin, nodding towards the governess. 66 Surely," said our host, rubbing his hands, "it is not picking primroses you would expect to find people this frosty morning, though Chapman seems, for all that, to have been gathering a nosegay-look!" All eyes were turned towards the piece of china, which Robby had extracted from my pocket, and was holding up. "He that hides finds,' Robby,” said his father. "There are more Robbys in the world than one," hinted Mrs. Macklin. My cousin was, I know, not best pleased at this discovery; she liked dearly to be made presents, being rich enough to feel unmixed gratification at a gift. But I did not look towards her, nor wait for the "Pray, don't trouble yourself, Robert," which she might have thought requisite to the occasion. Still less would I have chosen to turn towards the governess, but that courtesy demanded it as 1 sat next her. She looked a little embarrassed; but did not affect to conceal her having penetrated my design. Her face said, as plainly as was possible, "It was kindly meant, Mr. Chapman; but it must not be." When the rest of the party had dispersed after breakfast, she waited, for the purpose of putting her prohibition into words immediately for in the afternoon I was to go away; but, as we were alone, I said, just as if she had already spoken "Surely, Miss Hurst, you would not forbid my availing of an accident to give my cousin a pleasure, merely because you chanced to be its cause. I have been this long time wishing to offer her some little token of remembrance." "You will be good enough to seek some other opportunity, "interrupted she. "When there's a will, there's a way,' Mr. Chap man. I thought she suspected that the question between us was coming to something of more import than a china jar. There was a reserve in her manner; and I had detected a struggle between her reluctance to seem ready to enter on a second private conversation after the raillery at breakfast, and unwillingness to assent by silence to my making reparation for the accident. I was asking myself if the breaking of a jar were, indeed, to be the proximate cause of the joining of our hands, when she said, hurriedly: "I give you all credit for your kindness, Mr. Chapman, but I can and will settle this matter, as well as the others; for I, too, have "I was just about to say so to you," replied I. "It lies with yourself to avoid them all henceforth. Are you so resolved on completing your crusade against Rebecca's foibles as that nothing could induce you to give it up at once?" This was not unintelligible; but neither was it plain enough to be answered. She said, after a little hesitation : No, certainly. I am not so much of an Amazon. The moment my family circumstances will permit, I shall be glad to give up the result of my endeavors to a new comer. I said nothing for a while admiring the modest readiness of her reply to a query which, as we stood, must have been embarrassing. Misapprehending my silence, she looked at me, but only for an instant; there was no mistaking my looks. She appeared almost distressed during the moment's hesitation, that very haste to explain myself produced, as to how I should begin. I scarcely could tell what I said. I am justified in presuming myself to have spoken effectively from the feelings which my words brought "from a heart shut up and sealed by poverty and pride for many cheerless months. These are her words - not mine. After prolonged and useless efforts, upou my part, to shake her resolution not to quit my cousin's till her year was up- a time she maintained to be absolutely needed to insure our knowledge of each other-we agreed on arrangements for my visiting or corresponding with her until then. All this decided; I said to her after a pause: — "And when I do write or come to you, pray, what am I to call you? - for I actually do not know your Christian name. She smiled, and said, "They call me Rose at home." "A favorite name of mine," said I; " even in this fortune favors me. But now that it proves to be a pretty one, I must tell you that I almost feared to ask. Not that a name is of so much moment in my eyes — not at all But I fancied yours was somewhat different from what it is. a legacy from some oldfashioned grandmother or godmother, Betty or Joan, suppose; and that you might be reluctant to tell it; for I heard the children remark that no one in the house knew it,, and that they conjectured it to be a very ugly one; for that when asked one day, you made no answer, and appeared, they thought, unwilling to reply." "I remember," said she; "I remember it well. The thought that I had been so long living in a house in which no one knew even so much of me, or had any claim to call me of my seeking out a prim-Rose. That's posby it, overcame me so- with all my sturdi-itively the last word. Good-by." ness-coming unexpectedly on me as it did, "So you won't stay?" said my cousin, as that I could not speak without betraying my feelings; and before I could answer indifferently, I thought the children had forgotten their desire to know it." "You know that I am right," she rejoined; 1 though you may not feel it. "The next piece of wisdom is to show that I know it is time to leave you, since you will not allow me to show cause for a stay," said I, as she rose and stood by the window, near which we had been seated. "This is vacation; is it not? I may stay a little longer ?" Indeed, you may not," she said, smiling; "remember there is no vacation in the School for Scandal." "Well," said I, returning from the door, after bidding her good-by; "our host spoke like an oracle this morning, when he talked POETS IN PERUGIA. It is not good to be a poet in Perugia:-criticism there takes forms whose exceeding novelty-though novelty is in itself a pleasant quality does not prevent their being extremely unpleasant. If the correspondent of the Daily News be not himself a satirist, and perpetrating a squib. the following are the facts. It appears that the Austrian Commandant at Perugia- -a city, as our readers know, having a sort of fame in the annals of burlesque and satirical poetry-has felt himself sorely aggrieved by a certain squib, the production of some one, who for lack of deadlier missiles has fired a volley of iambics at the Imperial Army. Being unable to trace out the writer-your political bloodhound hunting less surely on the track of poetry than of powder. yet anxious to inflict chastisement for the offence-the commandant sent for the Papal governor, and ordered him to supply a list of all the poets of Perugia. Here, then, was a commandant invested with full critical rights; but in the city of Coppetta, Caporali and Antinori, where every man is a satirist, and where the "accomplishment of verse" is universal- their exercise was at once invidious and difficult it would be all the more difficult to a governor of doubtful poetic tastes. No man in Perugia would like to be left out of the category -yet, assuredly, no man, under the peculiar circumstances, would like to be in it. The Austrian, however, was peremptory:-and inquisi I made my adieus. I felt strongly inclined to say I should; but, under the circumstances, thought I had better obey Rose's wish; and though, when I strove to make a merit of it, she told me it was but to qualify myself the better for command. I knew I had lost nothing in the main by submitting my own wishes to a strict regard to her. We kept our engagement secret the full time wanting to complete her term of governess-ship. In return for my compliance upon this point, I had leave to present Rebecca with the handsomest jar I could procure; and though not thinking quite so much of this privilege as I might have done a little time before, I made the most of my conditions by using the purchase as a pretext for full half a dozen visits to my cousin's house. Meantime I made the acquaintance of my future fatherin-law. After our marriage, I had the pleasure of being of material service to him, and in a manner that at once satisfied the pride and affection of my wife. He is now in the enjoyment of circumstances that render his residence with us as unmixed a source of gratification to himself as it is to his daughter and his daughter's husband. Your very humble servant, ROBERT CHAPMAN. tion was straightway made into the poetical pretensions of the versifiers numberless of Perugia. Finally, the critical detectives reduced the long list of local poets to five-these alone being, in the governor's opinion, worthy of the true Castalian honors - and the Austrian administration of the same. It was a proud day for the fivebut alarming. Ushered into the Austrian presence, the poets were stripped naked and a medical officer was commanded to report on the physical capacity of each to bear blows with a stick. On this report being made in the hearing of each, the commandant addressed them thus: "Gentlemen, you have just heard the number of stripes which the doctor considers each of you capable of supporting-they will assuredly be administered to you upon the reappearance of any anonymous satire. You now know the price of your verses. I wish you a very good morning." The Muse has, we believe, abdicated in Perugia. THE rattling railway-riding lyrio, which appeared some years ago in the Knickerbocker Magazine, comes out again in Eliza Cook's Journal, without acknowledgment, and with the omission of the stanza, which referred to the "Knicker Bocker Magazine.” From the Panorama of Romance. THE COQUETTE. FROM a far longer time than I can well remember, till within two years past, the Cleveland family were our next-door neighbors. Florence, the eldest daughter of the house, was a dear friend of mine, and I would not for the world make her heroine of this story to-day, were it not for the following fact: two years ago, the whole family migrated to Wisconsin, and now that they are gone so very far out of the world, I think no blame should be attached to me for giving her "experience" to the good public. Sure am I, that, buried as she is in the backwoods, she will never hear that I have seized upon her as a subject whereon to expatiate, unless some of our travelling people prove so forgetful of themselves, and what is due to Flora and me, as to touch upon this topic when they meet her in the West. Everybody said that Florence was a "coquette," and admitting, as a settled thing, the idea that "what everybody says must be true," I suppose she was; that is, she was a gay, airy girl, fond of admiration," and I will not deny that she may have exerted herself the least bit in the world to obtain it; but most indignantly do I repel the assertion that she was artful or designing, or that she ever regularly "set a trap" to ensnare any human heart. Florence, when she went from us, was of middle height, very fair, and her cheeks wore the bloom of roses; her hair was of a light, glossy brown, and, O, those beautiful ringlets! I can vouch for the truth of it, they never emerged from curl-papers-and, by the way, how refreshing and pleasant, now-adays, it is to see anything natural, even a paltry curl! Then her eyes, deeply, divinely blue," sometimes filled with a sober, tranquil, holy light, and again, dancing, beaming, and overflowing with joy and happiness. Though Florence was the admiration of all eyes, and the beaux seemed really to have no appreciation of the presence of we poor insignificants when she was by, yet to not many of us did the "green-eyed monster" ever whisper one bad ungracious thought of her. We all loved her, and a sadder set never waited in our depot the arrival of the eastern train, than gathered there the day Mr. Cleveland and family were to leave for a home in the "far West." There were some, indeed, who invariably honored Florence with the title of "coquette;" they had a way of closing their eyes, and sighing very sanctimoniously, whenever they heard of her new conquests; particularly may this remark apply to old Widow Forbes, who rejoiced in the possession of four grown-up daughters; "fixtures" most decidedly they were in her household, for these four were not in any way remarkable for possessions of any kind, and two of them had well-nigh passed the third stage of woman's unmarried life. But by far the greater part of the villagers rejoiced in the presence of Florence Cleveland, as they would in a sunbeam on a dull day she was always so cheerful, so generous, and obliging. None of those sunny curls of hers were visible the day Florence set out on her journey. Perhaps you think that was because ladies do not usually travel with such appendages in view, and that they were snugly packed away in the back of her travelling hat. But had Florence's head been uncovered then, I fear me it would have borne terrible witness to the desecrating hands which had been busy about it; for the fairy-like ringlets which had so long adorned the beautiful head-full beautiful enough without them were slumbering on the hearts of us, her miserable, weeping cronies; and I know not how many gentlemen's purses were freighted with like treasure. What a stupid, silent company we were, gathered there that day! It was a bright morning; there was not a cloud to be seen in all the sky, and Susy, the old fortune-teller, said it was a day that augured well for their future prosperity; but that did not help us any. Everybody seemed to think we were about to lose the choicest light of our village, and so, indeed, we were. At last the odious depot-bell rung; soon after the fire-demon" heaved in sight, followed by its long train of crowded cars. In ten minutes the leave-taking was over, our friends were seated, their worldly goods were stowed away, another ring of the bell, that never sounded half so remorselessly before, and away they went, over the road, across the bridge, past the burial-ground, and on-on! To my bosom I pressed a package Florence had given me that morning, which she bade me not open till they were fairly gone. I need not tell you how I hastened home when I had seen the last of her; how, with just one look at their old garden, which ran back of our house, through whose paths we had wandered so often together; how, with one thought of my loneliness, I hied away to my room, that I might be alone with my sorrow. There, also, everything seemed determined to speak of her. Close by the window was the old arm-chair," her parting gift-a keepsake. Many a time had the broad, leathercovered seat supported us both, and so, of course, the very sight of it gave me such a blue fit, that I threw myself into its " open arms," and indulged in a most luxurious fit of weeping, the length whereof might be counted by hours. But when I had fairly 7 cried it out (you know all things must have an end), I went to bed with the most dreadful headache conceivable, and opened then, with more of regret than curiosity, the last testament of dear Florence. It was in the shape of a long, long letter, filling many pages of paper; but I shall not indulge the reader with a glance even at all the contents; satisfy yourself with these few extracts, and oblige yours, &c. : — Writing is not my forte, you know that very well (the epistle began), but I have been for a long time past determined to explain myself to you; and when father finally succeeded in convincing us all that the West is such a wonderful country, and that it is the best and only place in which to settle our troop of boys, I made up my mind to write you what I had intended to speak. Don't think me vain, but I am going to be my own heroine in these pages; I am going to give you the key which will make all clear before you that was aforetime unexplainable. of pleasure in summer, and in winter also. It was very needful—was it not? —that we should always be on good terms with him, and this, as a body, you know very well we managed to do. As he had been in love with and offered himself to at least a dozen girls of our acquaintance, I don't know why he should have thought that I would take up with him at last. Now, was it not presumption, Carry? To be sure, he did come to our house night after night, and sat often with us in church on Sundays, and it was rumored we were eugaged; but that, I fancy, did not make the case a clear one. The fact is, I never for a moment thought of marrying Tom Harding; but I did suppose him a great deal better youth than he proved to be. When he foolishly proposed the subject to me, I dismissed it quietly as might be, convincing him that the thing was forever impossible. And I kept his secret well. No one, till to-day, can say that I was ever guilty of speaking of his offer and its refusal; and you know why I now refer to it. Tom himself, by his ungentlemanly conduct, exposed all that ever was exposed, and his impudent, silly behavior towards me has made me heartily despise him. I sincerely hope that no damsel that I love will ever accept offers, which some dozens of women may yet have the honor to hear from him. When I am gone, and the partial regret some will feel at first is worn away, and they begin with all earnestness to give me what they think my due, honoring me once more with the flattering titles they have already bestowed on me so freely, then do you, my friend, take up the gauntlet in my defence. If I should happen to die of those horrible fevers, into whose hands we are about to commit ourselves, "Aunt Sally" may say it is a just "dispensation of Providence" that has removed me; and that forlorn old Juliet Baker might take it into her head to write my veritable history, under the title of "The Coquette," and so be published in one of the magazines, as a warning to all who shall come after mean immortality to which, I assure you, I do not aspire. Or Tom Harding might be tempted to discourse more eloquently than ever on my respective demerits, draw-to his club and the lyceum, and became a ing some of his most sage conclusions therefrom. So, dear, if such things do happen, remember to stand up valiantly for "woman's rights" and me! Harry Kirkland was indeed a fine fellow -at least I thought so once, for I was engaged to him within a time I well remember. Talented, too, was he not? But, 0, what an unreasonable mortal! When I engaged myself to Harry, I did love him truly, or what I thought was him, but you will not wonder that my love cooled before such evidences of tyranny as he gave, in a petty manner; they afforded me overpowering proof of what I might expect when the chains of Hymen should be dung around us. He went member of the Odd Fellows' Society, so soon as there was one organized in the village; indeed, on all points acted his own will and pleasure, even as to the number of cigars he would smoke in a day. And I, like a reasonable woman, thinking all this part and parcel of his own business, never thought of interfering. But no sooner had I in a kind of dumb way answered his pathetic appeals, by acknowledging that I loved him, than he at once, without questioning his right and title, proceeded to take the reins of government into And then it was incessantly, As I have mentioned Tom Harding's name, I may as well, in these "confessions," have done with him as speedily as possible. I know very well what the gossips said when it was rumored that I had "cut him dead," after encouraging the poor fellow, who was really" too good for me." But it happened in this case that they were all wrong, as doth, unfortunately, sometimes happen even with his own hands. gossipers. Tom, since time immemorial (you" Florence, why do you allow that coxcomb to will bear me out in the truth of this state- visit you?" or, Why did you go to the party ment), has been one of the most active of our last night when I was away or, "How can village beaux; attaching himself, with all his you endure that conceited fool?" or, canine characteristics, to every lady favored dear, manage your hair in some other style, with the least beauty, and making himself curls are so common !" Or, at another time, vastly useful in getting up all sorts of parties when I had arranged myself with special יי? "Do, |