GUESSES AT GOODWOOD.
(By a Transatlantic Cousin, according to English ideas.)
That I shall get puppar to take me and mother down in real style.
That we will wake up sleepy old Europe, and show these insolent insulars that we are above small potatos.
That I shall cut out the Britisher Misses, and make their mummars sit up.
That I shall take care that luncheon is not neglected, and see that all my party, like the omnibuses, are full inside.
That I shall think very small of the races, so long as I get my boxes of gloves.
That I shall do credit to the best society of Boston and the seminaries of New York by speaking through my nose a mixture of slang and nonsense.
That I shall call his Grace of Canterbury "Archbishop," and any owner of strawberry leaves "Duke."
That I shall wear a gown trimmed with diamonds, and have my parasols made of net and precious stones. That I shall conceal the fact that puppar made his money out of the sale of wooden nutmegs and mother's aunt was a laundress.
That I shall flirt with a Duke at the Races, marry him at St. George's, and give up for ever the stars and stripes.
P.S. (by a Transatlantic Cousin, according to American ideas).—I shall continue to wonder at an English girl's notions of her kinswomen when there are so many charming specimens of refined Columbian gentlewomen resettled in the old home of the Anglo-Saxon race.
"THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE," &c.
Scene—Hounds on drag of Otter, which has turned up small tributary stream.
Miss Di (six feet in her stockings, to deeply-enamoured Curate, five feet three in his, whom she has inveigled out Otter-hunting). "Oh, do just Pick me up and Carry me across. It's rather Deep, don't you know!"
[The Rev. Spooner's sensations are somewhat mixed.
