“These little matters, although the ‘Academy’ would frown upon them, I considered quite pardonable. God knows I would willingly have adopted their most approved method of a splendid residence, and silver-mounted harnesses for my bays; but they were yet in dream-land, eating moonbeams, and my vicious little nag had nearly all this time to eat his oats and nurse his bad temper in his comfortable stable.
“In this miserable way I read over my old books, watered my rose-bushes,—sometimes with tears,—drank my tea and ate my toast, and occasionally listened to the complaint of an unfortunate Irish damsel, with her customary account of ‘a pain in me side an’ a flutterin’ about me heart.’ At rare intervals I ministered to some of her countrywomen in their fulfilment of the great command when placed in the Garden of Eden. (What a dirty place it would have been if inhabited by Irish women!)
“And thus I spent nearly a year without a single call to any person of character. I think I should have left in despair if it had not been for a lovely creature up the street. She was the wife of a distinguished fish merchant down town.
“This lovely woman was Mrs. Mackerel. I will explain how it was that I was summoned to her ladyship’s mansion, and had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Mackerel, of the firm of ‘Mackerel, Haddock & Dun.’
“One bitter cold night in January, just as I was about to retire, a furious ring at the front door made me feel particularly amiable! A servant announced the sudden and alarming illness of Mrs. Mackerel, with the assurance that as the family physician was out of town, Mrs. M. would be obliged if I would immediately visit her. Accordingly, I soon found myself in the presence of the accomplished lady, having—I confess it—given my hair an extra touch as I entered the beautiful chamber.
“Mrs. Mackerel was not a bad-tempered lady; she was only a beautiful fool—nothing less, dear reader, or she would have never married old Mackerel. Her charms would have procured her a husband of at least a tolerable exterior. His physiognomy presented a remarkable resemblance to his namesake. Besides, he chewed and smoked, and the combination of the aroma of his favorite luxuries with the articles of his merchandise must have been most uncongenial to the curve of such lips and such nostrils as Mrs. Mackerel’s.
“I was received by Mr. Mackerel in a manner that increased observation has since taught me is sufficiently indicative of the hysterical finale of a domestic dialogue. He was not so obtuse as to let me directly into the true cause of his wife’s nervous attack and his own collectedness, and yet he felt it would not answer to make too light of it before me.
“Mr. and Mrs. M. had just returned from a party. (The party must be the ‘scape-goat’!) He assured me that as the lady was in the full enjoyment of health previously, he felt obliged to attribute the cause of her attack and speechless condition—for she spoke not one word, or gave a sign—to the dancing, heated room, and the supper.
“I was fully prepared to realize the powers of ice-cream, cake, oranges, chicken-salad, oysters, sugar-plums, punch, and champagne, and at one moment almost concluded to despatch a servant for an emetic of ipecac; but—I prudently avoided it. Aside from the improbability of excess of appetite through the portal of such a mouth, the lovely color of the cheeks and lips utterly forbade a conclusion favorable to Mr. Mackerel’s solution of the cause.
“I placed my finger on her delicate and jewelled wrist. All seemed calm as the thought of an angel’s breast!