"Good gracious," sez I, "If it aint my etarnal pussey cousin's leetle finefied darter Jemima!" The critter heard me and run up and spoke to a fat old Turk of a feller in a frock and trousers and with a red hankercher twisted round his head. He got up and whispered to a pussey sort of a woman all kivered over with yaller silk and glistening like a bank of ice with gold and stuns, and up they all three cum a fluttering like a flock of hens at seeing a handful of corn, and the woman she stuck out her fat hands and squealed out,-- "Oh, cousin Slick, is that you? I declare I'm delighted that Jemima has found you out. How very bright of her wasn't it? but then she is----" I didn't hear any more, for the foreign quality turned round and stared with all the eyes they had in their heads. I cut and run--pulled foot like scared sheep, till I got outside the door. For there, as sure as a gun, was my pussy cousin and his wife turned Turks. It was bad enough to have him a struttin round to show a feller off, in his black coat and trousers; but I raly believe I should a gin up if he'd a cum up in his Turk's frock and great wide silk trousers to claim relationship with me. My heart riz up in my throat at the idee of going back tu join the stuck up varmints, and it was a good while before I could make up mind to skulk back and look up Cousin Beebe and Mary. She was a dancing with the humped-backed King, and John was a shinnin it down like all natur with a purty woman, that wore a shiney black velvet dress, all kivered over with silver stars. It raly did me good to see him take the double shuffle; but I was allfired anxious to git away, for fear of seeing them pussy Turks agin, that he choked off, and we went hum about as well tuckered out as ever you see three critters. Arter all I don't think these ere foreigners are anything to speak on more genteel than our ginuine Americans. Mebby it's because they hain't got used tu our ways yet, but some on 'em seemed tu be rather awk'ard in their blazin fine dresses, but I s'pose it made 'em feel bad tu see how kinder easy we free born Americans felt with them. Your loving son, JONATHAN SLICK. * * * * * LETTER XIV. Advice to Jonathan from the Humstead--Jonathan's criticism on his Brother Sam's book--The ennui of Jonathan in good society--Jonathan's entree into a Milliner's Establishment, and sad mistake about a Side-saddle. DEAR PAR: It raly makes me feel bad to have you keep a writin so much advice to me. I du want to please you; and I don't think there ever is a time in the world when a chap can know enough to turn up his nose at his father's advice; but it's my ginuine opinion, that when you let a feller go away from hum, it's best to let him cut his own fodder.