s
birth-place) and the Battery, Castle Garden and Bloomingdale. He was a
clever fellow, fond of rational fun and amusement, kept "a set of books"
for a mercantile firm in Maiden Lane, dressed well, kept good hours, and
in all general respects, was--a nice young man. He went with a friend on
a tour--New Year's day, to make calls. After a number of glasses and
chunks of cake, feeling altogether beautiful, he found himself in the
presence of a charming widow, and some two months afterwards, himself
and the widow, a parson and a brace of male and female friends, Jeff.
Jones, aged 28, took a partner for life, ergo he hung up his hat in the
snug domicil of the flourishing widow, who became Mrs. Jeff. Jones,
thereafter.

Poor Jeff., he found out that there was some truth in the venerable
saying--all is not gold that glitters. The charming widow was seriously
inclined to wear the inexpressibles; and poor Jeff., being of such a
gentlemanly, good and easy disposition, scarcely made a struggle for his
reserved rights. However, things, under such a state of affairs, grew no
better fast, and as Jeff. Jones had neglected to go around and see the
elephant before marriage, he came to the conclusion to see what was
going on after that interesting ceremony. In short, Jeff. got to going
out of nights--kept "bad hours," got blowed up in gentle strains at
first, but which were promised to be enlarged if Mr. Jones did not mind
his Ps. and Qs.

The third anniversary of Jeff. Jones's annexation to the widow was
coming around. It was New Year's day in the morn; it brought rather
sober reflections into Jeff.'s mind, on the head of which he thought
he'd as soon as not--_get tight!_ This notion was pleasing, and dressing
himself in his best clothes, Jones informed Mrs. J. that he wished to
call on a few old friends, and would be home to dine and bring some
friends with him!

"See that you do, then," said Mrs. J., "see that you do, that's all!"
and she gave Mr. J. "a look" not at all like Miss Juliet's to Mr.
Romeo--she _spoke_, and she said something.

However, Jones cleared himself; dinner hour arrived, if Jeff. Jones did
not; Mrs. Jones smiled and chatted, and did the honors of the table with
rare good grace, but where was Jones?

"He'll be poking in just as dinner is over, and the puddings cold, and
company preparing to leave; then he'll catch a lecturing."

But don't fret your pretty self, Mrs. Jones--for dinner passed and
tea-time cam