"What is the matter with you?" said Sir Edward. "Oh, sir, the lady--the pretended lady!" "Alas!" interrupted Sir Edward, "I only possess the image of an adored wife!" And it was then explained that the worthy baronet, being inconsolable for the loss of certain friends, always travelled about with their image in wax! A party of _living_ friends afterwards assembled, and the evening was spent very agreeably. * * * * * HOUSEKEEPERS, look at this; and, before you engage a cook, inquire if she has a husband. This is an illustration of that that said husband going to the paternal abode, with something to feed the young ravens, after having paid a visit to his wife. It is simply "the husband of your cook leaving your house." [Illustration] * * * * * SOUND REASONING--and, as such, will be recognized by those who have been humbugged by the Brown and other lecturers who have honored us with visits from abroad:-- _Lectures_ vs. _Books_.--Why a man should put on his overcoat and comforter, and a woman wrap herself in furs, mufflers, cloaks, and shawls, and the children bundle up, to face a strong nor'-wester, and go out to hear a lecture of dubious excellence, or a concert that, after all, is little better than a bore, while at home a goodly array of philosophers and poets, story-tellers and grand advisers, stand waiting to offer their services; yet not one of which looks sad if his neighbor is preferred before him--this we would wonder at, if it were not everybody's habit. If a man has weak eyes, or his thoughts find no anchorage, and if he cannot afford the luxury of a private reader, let him visit the public lecture-room, and he can get much good from it. Or if, for his sins, he has lost his home, let him go to the concert and mortify himself. But we who have homes cannot afford, first, the sacrifice of our home comforts, second, the loss of precious winter evening hours, and third, the price of tickets, unless we know of a surety that they will admit us to choice performances. * * * * * SINGULAR INSCRIPTIONS ON TOMBSTONES. On the Duke of Marlborough:-- Here lies John, Duke of Marlborough Who run the French through and through; He married Sarah Jennings, spinster, Died at Windsor, and was buried at Westminster. In St. Bennet's, Paul's Wharf, London:-- Here lies one _More_, and no more than he: One _More_ and no _More!_ how can that be? Why one _More_, and no more, may well lie here alone, But here lies one _More_, and that is more than one! From Broom Churchyard, England:-- God be praised! Here is Mr. Dudley, senior, And Jane, his wife, also, Who, while living, was his superior; But see what death can do. Two of his sons also lie here, One Walter, t'other Joe; They all of them went in the year 1510 below.