"Mother," said Tim, and then he cleared his throat. "What, my son?" "I have been thinking whether it would not be better to have our old house painted?" This was a new idea, one that never had crossed Tim's mind till it was uttered, and as it happened, 'twas not an inappropriate one. "But, my child, it will answer very well as it is, for such an old body as I, and if you begin to paint, you will be compelled to furbish up every thing else." "But, mother, suppose I should think of courting some young body?" "Oh, if you will fall in love with my little favorite, you can afford to paint and furbish too." That was a chord Tim had heard struck before to-day. "Suppose _she_ wont love me, and somebody else will." "Faint heart," said his consoling mother, "never won fair lady." The old lady was off upon the old track; but Tim having fairly begun, was not to be so easily baffled this time--so taking up his chair, he walked deliberately to the fire and seating himself, placed his feet upon the fender. "Mother," said Tim, "it is time I should tell you that"--rap, rap, rap,--tantarara, bang--rang the old brass knocker at the outer door. "See who is there, my son." Hang all the world thought Tim--shall I never have an opportunity of telling the old lady? Tim took no candle with him to the door. "Who's here?" "Harry, sir." "Well, uncle Harry, what do you want?" "Mass Tim, Miss Mary send her complements, and tell me give you dis letter." Tim ran his hand into his pocket and gave old Harry a bit of silver. "I reckon," said Harry, who began to think Mass Tim and he were old cronies, "I reckon young Missus dont send letters to young Massa for nutting." "Wait for an answer a moment, uncle Harry," said Tim kindly. "Who's at the door, my son?" said the old lady, as Tim returned, holding an open letter in his hand. "A servant, madam," was the reply. "What," said Tim to himself, as he walked to the candle, "does my Mary want?" Good reader, while old Harry is waiting at the door in the best humor in the world, because he had the good fortune to be the bearer of a _love letter_ as he shrewdly suspected, from his young mistress to so good a young gentleman, and while the good old lady is knitting away and thinking how to induce her son to fall in love with _her_ favorite, if thou wilt follow my example, thou mayst perceive what is going on for thyself. Thou seest that I am about to take a sly peep over friend Tim's shoulder, and if thou wilt peep over the other, thou mayst discover what otherwise thou wilt never have an opportunity of perceiving. "_Saturday Evening_. "MR. TIMOTHY WILBERFORCE.