s and
words; and I replied with as ridiculous, fulsome compliments as I could
pay her: indeed, one in which I compared her to an angel visiting the
sick-wells, went a little too far; nor should I have employed it, but that
the allusion came from the Second Lesson last Sunday, which we both had
heard, and I was pressed to answer her.

"Then she came to the question, which I knew was awaiting me, and asked
how I _spelt_ my name? 'Madam,' says I, turning on my heel, 'I spell it
with the _y_.' And so I left her, wondering at the light-heartedness of
the town-people, who forget and make friends so easily, and resolved to
look elsewhere for a partner for your constant reader.

"CYMON WYLDOATS.

"You know my real name, Mr. Spectator, in which there is no such a letter
as _hupsilon_. But if the lady, whom I have called Saccharissa, wonders
that I appear no more at the tea-tables, she is hereby respectfully
informed the reason _y_."

-------------------------------------

The above is a parable, whereof the writer will now expound the meaning.
Jocasta was no other than Miss Esmond, maid of honour to her Majesty. She
had told Mr. Esmond this little story of having met a gentleman,
somewhere, and forgetting his name, when the gentleman, with no such
malicious intentions as those of "Cymon" in the above fable, made the
answer simply as above; and we all laughed to think how little Mistress
Jocasta-Beatrix had profited by her artifice and precautions.

As for Cymon he was intended to represent yours and her very humble
servant, the writer of the apologue and of this story, which we had
printed on a _Spectator_ paper at Mr. Steele's office, exactly as those
famous journals were printed, and which was laid on the table at breakfast
in place of the real newspaper. Mistress Jocasta, who had plenty of wit,
could not live without her _Spectator_ to her tea; and this sham
_Spectator_ was intended to convey to the young woman that she herself was
a flirt, and that Cymon was a gentleman of honour and resolution, seeing
all her faults, and determined to break the chains once and for ever.

For though enough hath been said about this love business already--enough,
at least, to prove to the writer's heirs what a silly fond fool their old
grandfather was, who would like them to consider him a a very wise old
gentleman; yet not near all has been told concerning this matter, which,
if it were allowed to take in Esmond's jo