and blank disappointments we see
now, we should have a practical, contented generation; and in the same
spirit that a man of moderate fortune turns away from the seductions
of turtle and whitebait, while he orders home his mutton chop, he would
avert his gaze from beauty, and fix his affections on the dumpy woman
that can be "got a bargain."

Why did not the poet say, Venality, thy name is Woman? It would suit the
prosody about as well, and the purpose better. The Turks are our masters
in all this; they are centuries--whole centuries in advance of us. How
I wish some Babbage would make a calculation of the hours, weeks, years,
centuries of time, are lost in what is called love-making! Time, we are
told, is money; and here, at once, is the fund to pay off our national
debt. Take the "time that's lost in wooing" by a nation, say of
twenty-eight or thirty millions, and at the cheapest rate of labor--take
the prison rate if you like--and see if I be not right. Let the
population who now heave sighs pound oyster-shells, let those who pick
quarrels pick oakum, and we need no income-tax!

"I'll not sing any more," broke in Catinka. "I don't think you have been
listening to me."

"Listening to you!" said I, contemptuously; "certainly not. When I want
a siren, I take a pit ticket and go to the opera; seven-and-sixpence
is the price of Circe, and dear at the money." With this rude rebuff I
waved her off, and walked along once more alone.

At a sudden bend in the road we found Vaterchen seated under a tree
waiting for us, and evidently not a little uneasy at our long absence.

"What is this?" said he, angrily, to Catinka. "Why have you remained so
long behind?"

"We sat down to rest at a well," said she, "and then he took out a great
bag of money to count, and there was so much in it, so many pieces of
bright gold, that one could not help turning them over and over, and
gazing at them."

"And worshipping them too, girl!" cried he, indignantly, while he turned
on me a look of sorrow and reproach. I returned his stare haughtily, and
he arose and drew me to one side.

"Am I, then, once more mistaken in my judgment of men? Have _you_, too,
duped me?" said he, in a voice that shook with agitation. "Was it for
this you offered us the solace of your companionship? Was it for this
you condescended to journey with us, and deigned to be our host and
entertainer?"

The appeal came at an evil moment: a vile, contemptible scepticis