h, du
lieber Himmel," says Herr Strumpf--isn't his name Herr Strumpf?--the
German master, "die schoene Fraeulein ist krank!" and bursts into tears
on the Pianofortyfier's shoulder when they hear the news (through his
sobs) from black John. We have an Ebony femme de chambre here; when I
came from Baltimore just now I found her in the following costume and
attitude standing for her picture to Mr. Crowe. She makes the beds
with that pipe in her mouf and leaves it about in the rooms. Wouldn't
she have been a nice lady's-maid for your mother and Miss Bally
Saxter?

But even if Miss Lucy had not had her fall, I daresay there would have
been no party. Here is a great snow-storm falling, though yesterday
was as bland and bright as May (English May, I mean) and how could we
have lionized Baltimore, and gone to Mount Vernon, and taken our
diversion in the snow? There would have been nothing for it but to
stay in this little closet of a room, where there is scarce room for 6
people, and where it is not near so comfortable as the brown house.
Dear old b.h., shall I see it again soon? I shall not go farther than
Charleston, and Savannah probably, and then I hope I shall get another
look at you all again before I commence farther wanderings--O, stop! I
didn't tell you why I was going to write you--well, I went on Thursday
to dine with Governor and Mrs. Fish, a dinner in honor of me--and
before I went I arrayed myself in a certain white garment of which the
collar-button-holes had been altered, and I thought of the kind,
friendly little hand that had done that deed for me; and when the
Fisheses told me how they lived in the Second Avenue (I had forgotten
all about 'em)--their house and the house opposite came back to my
mind, and I liked them 50 times better for living near some friends of
mine. She is a nice woman, Madam Fish, besides; and didn't I abuse you
all to her? Good bye, dear little Lucy--I wish the paper wasn't full.
But I have been sitting half an hour by the poor young lady's sofa,
and talking stuff and nonsense, haven't I? And now I get up, and shake
your hand with a God bless you! and walk down stairs, and please to
give everybody my kindest regards, and remember that I am truly your
friend.

W. M. T.

48.

THE "TRUMPET" COFFEE-HOUSE,
WHITEHALL.

'Mr Spectator--

'I am a gentleman but little acquainted with the town, though I have had
a university education, and passed some years serving my country abroad,