nd how she
knows it cannot be good for his health, and is very uneasy about it.
Unto this Mr. Sliverstone replies firmly, that 'It must be done;' which
agonizes Mrs. Sliverstone still more, and she goes on to tell you that
such were Mr. Sliverstone's labours last week--what with the buryings,
marryings, churchings, christenings, and all together,--that when he was
going up the pulpit stairs on Sunday evening, he was obliged to hold on
by the rails, or he would certainly have fallen over into his own pew.
Mr. Sliverstone, who has been listening and smiling meekly, says, 'Not
quite so bad as that, not quite so bad!' he admits though, on
cross-examination, that he _was_ very near falling upon the verger who
was following him up to bolt the door; but adds, that it was his duty as
a Christian to fall upon him, if need were, and that he, Mr. Sliverstone,
and (possibly the verger too) ought to glory in it.

This sentiment communicates new impulse to Mrs. Sliverstone, who launches
into new praises of Mr. Sliverstone's worth and excellence, to which he
listens in the same meek silence, save when he puts in a word of
self-denial relative to some question of fact, as--'Not seventy-two
christenings that week, my dear. Only seventy-one, only seventy-one.'
At length his lady has quite concluded, and then he says, Why should he
repine, why should he give way, why should he suffer his heart to sink
within him? Is it he alone who toils and suffers? What has she gone
through, he should like to know? What does she go through every day for
him and for society?

With such an exordium Mr. Sliverstone launches out into glowing praises
of the conduct of Mrs. Sliverstone in the production of eight young
children, and the subsequent rearing and fostering of the same; and thus
the husband magnifies the wife, and the wife the husband.

This would be well enough if Mr. and Mrs. Sliverstone kept it to
themselves, or even to themselves and a friend or two; but they do not.
The more hearers they have, the more egotistical the couple become, and
the more anxious they are to make believers in their merits. Perhaps
this is the worst kind of egotism. It has not even the poor excuse of
being spontaneous, but is the result of a deliberate system and malice
aforethought. Mere empty-headed conceit excites our pity, but
ostentatious hypocrisy awakens our disgust.

THE COUPLE WHO CODDLE THEMSELVES

Mrs. Merrywinkle's maiden name was Chopper.