asked
for my combs and brushes, and my husband for his shaving apparatus and
pantaloons."

Mrs. Whither, whose "Widow Bedott" is a familiar name, resembles Mrs.
Kirkland in her comic portraitures, which were especially good of their
kind, and never betrayed any malice. The "Bedott Papers" first appeared
in 1846, and became popular at once. They are good examples of what they
simply profess to be: an amusing series of comicalities.

I shall not quote from them, as every one who enjoys that style of humor
knows them by heart. It would be as useless as copying "Now I lay me
down to sleep," or "Mary had a little lamb," for a child's collection of
verses!

* * * * *

There are many authors whom I cannot represent worthily in these brief
limits. When, encouraged by the unprecedented popularity of this
venture, I prepare an encyclopaedia of the "Wit and Humor of American
Women," I can do justice to such writers as "Gail Hamilton" and Miss
Alcott, whose "Transcendental Wild Oats" cannot be cut. Rose Terry Cooke
thinks her "Knoware" the only funny thing she has ever done. She is
greatly mistaken, as I can soon prove. "Knoware" ought to be printed by
itself to delight thousands, as her "Deacon's Week" has already done. To
search for a few good things in the works of my witty friends is
searching not for the time-honored needle in a hay-mow, but for two or
three needles of just the right size out of a whole paper of needles.

"The Insanity of Cain," by Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge, an inimitable satire
on the feebleness of our jury system and the absurd pretence of
"temporary insanity," must wait for that encyclopaedia. And her "Miss
Molony on the Chinese Question" is known and admired by every one,
including the Prince of Wales, who was fairly convulsed by its fun, when
brought out by our favorite elocutionist, Miss Sarah Cowell, who had the
honor of reading before royalty.

I regretfully omit the "Peterkin Letters," by Lucretia P. Hale, and time
famous "William Henry Letters," by Mrs. Abby Morton Diaz. The very best
bit from Miss Sallie McLean would be how "Grandma Spicer gets Grandpa
Ready for Sunday-school," from the "Cape Cod Folks;" but why not save
space for what is not in everybody's mouth and memory? This is equally
true of Mrs. Cleaveland's "No Sects in Heaven," which, like Arabella
Wilson's "Sextant," goes the rounds of all the papers every other year
as a fresh delight.

Marietta Holley