220 INQUISITIVENESS. [CHAP. XXXII. 



One of them, before we left Boston, as if deter 

 mined that nothing should surprise us, related many 

 diverting anecdotes to illustrate the inquisitive turn 

 of his countrymen. Among other stories he gave a 

 lively description of a New Englander who was 

 seated by a reserved companion in a railway car, and 

 who, by way of beginning a conversation, said, &quot; Are 

 you a bachelor?&quot; To which the other replied, dryly, 

 &quot; No, I m not.&quot; &quot;You area married man?&quot; continued 

 he. --&quot;No, I m not.&quot; - &quot; Then you must be a wi 

 dower ?&quot; &quot; No, I m not.&quot; Here there was a short 

 pause ; but the undaunted querist returned to the 

 charge, observing, &quot; If you are neither a bachelor, nor 

 a married man, nor a widower, what in the world can 

 you be?&quot;- &quot;If you must know,&quot; said the other, 

 &quot; I m a divorced man ! &quot; 



Another story, told me by the same friend, was 

 that a gentleman being asked, in a stage coach, how 

 he had lost his leg, made his fellow travellers pro 

 mise that if he told them they would put no more 

 questions on the subject. He then said, &quot; It was 

 bitten off.&quot; To have thus precluded them for the rest 

 of a long journey from asking how it was bitten off, 

 was a truly ingenious method of putting impertinent 

 curiosity on the rack. 



When my wife first entered the ladies cabin, she 

 found every one of the numerous rocking-chairs 

 filled with a mother suckling an infant. As none of 

 them had nurses or servants, all their other children 

 were at large, and might have been a great resource 

 to passengers suffering from ennui, had they been 

 under tolerable control. As it was, they were 



