A fine fashionable mother, one beautiful spring morning, walked forth into the city, leading by the hand a little child of five or six years old. The former was dressed in all the fantastic finery of the times; she had a pink bonnet, ornamented with a bird of paradise, shaded with huge bows of wide ribbon; sleeves which caused her taper waist to appear like lean famine supported on either side by overgrown plenty; her gown was of such redundancy of plaits and folds, that a whole family might have been clothed from its superfluities; and while with one hand she led the little girl along, in the other she held a cambric handkerchief worked with various devices, and bordered with rich lace, reported to have cost fifty dollars. The little child was dressed as fine as its mother, for she unfortunately had light curly hair, and was reckoned a beauty. They passed a toy-shop, and the child insisted on going in, where she laid out all the money she had in various purchases that were of no use whatever, in spite of the advice of her mother, who alternately scolded and laughed at her for thus wasting her allowance on things so useless. The child seemed to reflect for a few moments, and thus addressed her mother: “Mother, what is the use of those great sleeves you wear?” The mother was silent, for the question puzzled her. “Mother, what is the use of that fine bird on your hat?” The mother was still more at a loss for a reply. {465} “Mother, what is the use of having a worked handkerchief, bordered with lace, to wipe your nose?” “Come along,” cried the mother somewhat roughly, as she dragged the little girl out of the toy-shop, “come along, and don't ask so many foolish questions.” MISERIES OF BASHFULNESS. A modest woman dressed out in all her finery is the most tremendous object of the whole creation.—_She Stoops to Conquer_.