MRS. WILTON. "I have an amusing description of the preparation for a journey in the immediate neighborhood of the Gulf of Finland, which will satisfy your inquiring mind, and afford us all pleasing information. 'On the evening of the 20th of February, all the juvenile portion of the family were consigned to rest at an earlier hour than usual; and by six o'clock the next morning, little eyes were wide awake, and little limbs in full motion, by the flickering candle's light; in everybody's way as long as they were not wanted, and nowhere to be found when they were. At length the little flock were all assembled; and having been well lined inside by a migratory kind of breakfast, the outer process began. This is conducted somewhat on the same principle as the building of a house, the foundation being filled with rather rubbishy materials, over which a firm structure is reared. First came a large cotton handkerchief, then a pelisse three years too short, then a faded comfortable of papa's, and then an old cashmere of mamma's, which latter was with difficulty forced under the vanishing arms, and tied firmly behind. Now each tiny hand was carefully sealed with as many pairs of gloves as could be gathered together for the occasion; one hand (for the nursemaids are not very particular) being not seldom more richly endowed in this respect than its fellow. The same process is applied to the little feet, which swell to misshapen stumps beneath an accumulation of under-socks and over-socks, under-shoes and over-shoes, and are finally swallowed up in huge worsted stockings, which embrace all the drawers, short petticoats, ends of handkerchiefs, comfortables, and shawls they can reach, and are generally gartered in some incomprehensible fashion round the waist. But mark! this is only the _foundation_. Now comes the thickly-wadded winter pelisse of silk or merino, with bands or ligatures, which instantly bury themselves in the depths of the surrounding hillocks, till within the case of clothes before you, which stands like a roll-pudding tied up ready for the boiler, no one would suspect the slender skipping sprite that your little finger can lift. Lastly, all this is enveloped in the little jaunty silk cloak, which fastens readily enough round the neck on ordinary occasions, but now refuses to meet by the breadth of a hand, and is made secure by a worsted boa of every bright color. Is this all? No,--wait,--I have forgotten the pretty clustering locked head and rosy dimpled face; and, in truth, they were so lost in the mountains of wool and wadding around as to be fairly overlooked. Here a handkerchief is bound round the forehead, and another down each cheek, just skirting the nose, and allowing a small triangular space for sight and respiration; talking had better not be attempted; while the head is roofed in by a wadded hat, a misshapen machine with soft crown and bangled peak, which cannot be hurt, and never