188 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 
promise the Sylph that I would, for 
the rest of my life, be the ladies’ de¬ 
voted slave ? Am I not so ? Besides, 
my sense of honour is much too nice 
to permit me to utter a falsehood; 
for had I not a first cousin who actu¬ 
ally almost called a man out for 
tweaking his nose and telling him he 
was a liar P We are a family jealous of 
our honour. I cannot account for 
the mysteries of nature, any more 
than I can for the base envy that 
impugns my veracity. Of course, it 
is not every one’s good fortune to see 
and converse with a Flower Sylph— 
I cannot help that. Some men are 
happily singled out by Providence to 
