ather!" screams the daughter.

Chairs and hats flew; the negro servants and Dutch fiddlers, only
engaged for the occasion, taking no interest in a free fight, and not
caring two cents who whipped, laid back and--

"Yaw! ha! ha! De lor'! Yaw! ha! ha!"

Mrs. Jipson fainted; ditto two others of the family; the men folks (!)
began to travel; the ladies (!) screamed; called for their hats, shawls,
and _chaperones_,--the most of the latter, however, were _non est_, or
too well "set up," to heed the common state of affairs.

Jipson finally cleared the house. Silence reigned within the walls for a
week. In the interim, Mrs. Jipson and the daughters not only got over
their hysterics, but ideas of gentility, as practised "above Bleecker
street." It took poor Jipson an entire year to recuperate his financial
"outs," while it took the whole family quite as long to get over their
grand debut as followers of fashion in the great metropolis.

Look out for them Lobsters.

Deacon ----, who resides in a pleasant village inside of an hour's ride
upon Fitchburg road, rejoices in a fondness for the long-tailed
_crustacea_, vulgarly known as lobsters. And, from messes therewith
fulminated, by _some_ of our professors of gastronomics that we have
seen, we do not attach any wonder at all to the deacon's penchant for
the aforesaid shell-fish. The deacon had been disappointed several times
by assertions of the lobster merchants, who, in their overwhelming zeal
to effect a sale, had been a little too sanguine of the precise _time_
said lobsters were caught and boiled; hence, after lugging home a ten
pound specimen of the vasty deep, miles out into the quiet country, the
deacon was often sorely vexed to find the lobster no better than it
should be!

"Why don't you get them alive, deacon?" said a friend,--"get them alive
and kicking, deacon; boil them yourself; be sure of their freshness, and
have them cooked more carefully and properly."

"Well said," quoth the deacon; "so I can, for they sell them, I observe,
near the depot,--right out of the boat. I'm much obliged for the
notion."

The next visit of the good deacon to Boston,--as he was about to return
home, he goes to the bridge and bargains for two live lobsters, fine,
active, lusty-clawed fellows, alive and kicking, and no mistake!

"But what will I do with them?" says the deacon to the purveyor of the
_crustacea_, as he gazed wistfully upon the two sprawling, ugly, green