KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



143 



what a beau she had lost in losing you : did 

 not you now? Well, don't stand squeezing 

 my hand, but go and meet your French 

 friend, who" has got a man, I see, to help to 

 pick up the fallen equipage. Go and get 

 rid of him," quoth Susan. 



"How can I?" exclaimed William, in 

 laughing perplexity. 



" Give him the britschka," responded his 

 sister, " and send them off together as fast 

 as may be. That will be a magnificent fare- 

 well. And then take your portmanteau into 

 the copse, and change all this trumpery for 

 the shooting : jacket and its belongings ; and 

 come back and let me trim these whiskers 

 as closely as scissors can trim them, and 

 then we'll go to the farm, to gladden the 

 hearts of Harebell, Hector, my dear father, 

 and — somebody else ; and it will not be that 

 somebody's fault if ever you go to London 

 again, or get into a britschka, or put on a 

 chain, or a ring, or write with blue ink 

 upon pink paper, as long as you live. Now 

 go and dismiss the Frenchman," added Susan, 

 laughing, " and we'll walk home together 

 the happiest brother and sister in Chris- 

 tendom." 



MANNERS AND INDEPENDENCE. 



The value of an easy manner and courte- 

 ous address is not by any means sufficiently 

 estimated among us. Proud of his political 

 independence and his republican rights, the 

 citizen is very apt to carry his notions of 

 personal privileges to an improper extent ; 

 especially in the smaller matters of the 

 social circle, as well as in the details of 

 business. 



Two young men shall commence life to- 

 gether, equal in circumstances — both being 

 destitute of means — but the one full of talent, 

 abundant in resources, and apt in business, 

 conceited of his own "reserved rights," and 

 not easy in his manner, or happy in placing 

 others at ease. The other, not above, if 

 even up to mediocrity, not especially gifted 

 with business talent, but still ready in adapt- 

 ing himself to those he meets, and felicitous 

 in his address. Now, let us see how they 

 get on. We will call one Manners and the 

 other Independence. 



Manners is a clever, civil, and obliging 

 fellow, disposed to pratify. He steps up to 

 you with a bow and a smile, and wishes to 

 know how he can serve you. He is ready 

 to give up his seat to a lady ; even to stand 

 behind her bonnet, at a concert, if necessity 

 requires. 



Independence is a stiff, upright, angular 

 gentleman, who waits to be spoken to, and 

 then answers or not, as the humor takes him ; 

 he yields with a bad grace to solicitation, 



and robs a kind act of its merit by the man- 

 ner of doing it. His independence is always 

 rubbing against somebody else's inde- 

 pendence, and society seems as if man- 

 kind had been made square instead of round, 

 and in a crowd were perpetually chafing 

 their sharp corners ! He returns your 

 salute with a gruff air, and walks about 

 with his back to the fire and his legs 

 straddled. 



Manners is a neat, dapper, brisk body, 

 that has a joke for one, a song for another, 

 and a " how are you" for every body — he 

 looks about as he walks, notices his acquain- 

 tances, returns their bows, and occasionally 

 calls to see them. He won't endorse, but 

 declines by a polite excuse ; and can't afford 

 to lend, but makes the borrower feel his 

 regret by his kindness of reply. Occasionally 

 he beaus a lady, and is not very much afraid 

 of old maids, or young children. 



Independence is a surly, honest, rough, 

 loud voiced chap, that laughs at no jokes 

 but his own, and don't care whether he 

 speaks or is spoken to ; he owes nobody any 

 thing and depends on himself for amuse- 

 ment. Let any body ask him to endorse ! 

 He never borrows, and won't lend ; and con- 

 siders a request for a loan as a species of 

 pickpocketing. Yet he has been known to 

 give handsomely unto the distressed, and 

 even to forgive a debt. He won't play 

 porter or post-office for any body, and hates 

 bandbox as he does Satan. He considers 

 children as small nuisances requisite to 

 supply the world with population ; and if he 

 ever does get married, intends to insure him- 

 self against paternity. 



Such are the twain, and so they go 

 through the world, both often successful, and 

 both respected — the one liked and popular, 

 the other feared and avoided. Great phi- 

 losophy was there in the scissor-grinder's 

 proverb, as applied to success in life, — 

 " Sweet oil and perseverance conquer every 

 tiling." —Brother Jonathan. 



" SUNSET " FROM MONT BLANC. 



The sun, at length, went down behind the 

 Aiguille du Goute, and then, for two hours, a 

 scene of such wild and wondrous beauty — of 

 such inconceivable and unearthly splendor — 

 burst upon me, that spell-bound and almost 

 trembling with the emotion its magnificence 

 called forth — with every sense, and feeling, and 

 thought absorbed by its brilliancy, I saw far 

 more than the realisation of the most gorgeous 

 visions that opium or hasheesh could evoke, ac- 

 complished. At first everything about us — above, 

 around, below — the sky, the mountain, and the 

 lower peaks — appeared one uniform creation of 

 burnished gold; so brightly dazzling that, now 

 our veils were removed, the eye could scarcely 

 bear the splendor. 



As the twilight gradually crept over the lower 



