a very fine pair of mustachios. We both
warmed our toes at the same stove in solemn silence.

Sunday, at Burlington.--The young ladies are dressing up the church with
festoons, and garlands of evergreens for the celebration of Christmas,
and have pressed me into the service. Last Sunday I was meditating over
the blackened walls of the church at St Eustache, and the roasted
corpses lying within its precincts; now I am in another church, weaving
laurel and cypress, in company with some of the prettiest creatures in
creation. As the copy-book says, _variety is charming_.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

Philadelphia is certainly, in appearance, the most wealthy and imposing
city in the Union. It is well built, and ornamented with magnificent
public edifices of white marble; indeed there is a great show of this
material throughout the whole of the town, all the flights of steps to
the doors, door-lintels, and window-sills, being very generally composed
of this material. The exterior of the houses, as well as the side
pavement, are kept remarkably clean; and there is no intermixture of
commerce, as there is at New York, the bustle of business being confined
to the Quays, and one or two streets adjoining the river side.

The first idea which strikes you when you arrive at Philadelphia, is
that it is Sunday: every thing is so quiet, and there are so few people
stirring; but by the time that you have paraded half a dozen streets,
you come to a conclusion that it must be Saturday, as that day is,
generally speaking, a washing-day. Philadelphia is so admirably
supplied with water from the Schuykill water-works, that every house has
it laid on from the attic to the basement; and all day long they wash
windows, door, marble step, and pavements in front of the houses.
Indeed, they have so much water, that they can afford to be very liberal
to passers-by. One minute you have a shower-bath from a negress, who is
throwing water at the windows on the first floor; and the next you have
to hop over a stream across the pavement, occasioned by some black
fellow, who, rather than go for a broom to sweep away any small portion
of dust collected before his master's door, brings out the leather hose,
attached to the hydrants, as they term them here, and fizzes away with
it till the stream has forced the dust into the gutter.

Of course, fire has no chance in this city. Indeed, the two elements
appear to have arranged that matt