eared with the Princess Helen, his
daughter? And ah! what expressions of my humble pen can do justice to
the beauty of that young lady? Fancy every charm which decorates the
person, every virtue which ornaments the mind, every accomplishment
which renders charming mind and charming person doubly charming, and
then you will have but a faint and feeble idea of the beauties of her
Highness the Princess Helen. Fancy a complexion such as they say (I know
not with what justice) Rowland's Kalydor imparts to the users of that
cosmetic; fancy teeth to which orient pearls are like Wallsend coals;
eyes, which were so blue, tender, and bright, that while they run you
through with their lustre, they healed you with their kindness; a neck
and waist, so ravishingly slender and graceful, that the least that
is said about them the better; a foot which fell upon the flowers no
heavier than a dew-drop--and this charming person set off by the most
elegant toilet that ever milliner devised! The lovely Helen's hair
(which was as black as the finest varnish for boots) was so long, that
it was borne on a cushion several yards behind her by the maidens of
her train; and a hat, set off with moss-roses, sunflowers, bugles,
birds-of-paradise, gold lace, and pink ribbon, gave her a distingue air,
which would have set the editor of the Morning Post mad with love.

It had exactly the same effect upon the noble Childe of Godesberg, as
leaning on his ivory bow, with his legs crossed, he stood and gazed on
her, as Cupid gazed on Psyche. Their eyes met: it was all over with both
of them. A blush came at one and the same minute budding to the cheek of
either. A simultaneous throb beat in those young hearts! They loved
each other for ever from that instant. Otto still stood, cross-legged,
enraptured, leaning on his ivory bow; but Helen, calling to a maiden
for her pocket-handkerchief, blew her beautiful Grecian nose in order to
hide her agitation. Bless ye, bless ye, pretty ones! I am old now; but
not so old but that I kindle at the tale of love. Theresa MacWhirter too
has lived and loved. Heigho!

Who is yon chief that stands behind the truck whereon are seated the
Princess and the stout old lord, her father? Who is he whose hair is
of the carroty hue? whose eyes, across a snubby bunch of a nose, are
perpetually scowling at each other; who has a hump-back and a hideous
mouth, surrounded with bristles, and crammed full of jutting yellow
odious teeth. Alth