"And now Charley must needs be waking up there—see him! looking just as seraphic as if he never meant to be a little sinner! The tinting of a sea-shell could not be more delicate than that cheek; see the faultless outline of his profile against the pillow; look at his dimpled arms and fat little calves; and that little plump cushion of a foot. Was there ever any thing so seducing? I wish that child belonged to me.
"See here, Rose, look at those ladies pacing up and down the long hall, armed for conquest to the teeth. What an insatiable appetite for admiration they must needs have, to make such an elaborate toilet in the dog-days! Nothing astonishes me like the patient endurance of these fashionists at the watering-places; prisoning themselves within doors lest the damp air should uncurl a ringlet; wearing gloves with the thermometer at ninety in the shade; soliciting wasp-waists in the very face of consumption. They are what I call 'the working people;' for your mechanic has the liberty of cooling himself in his shirt-sleeves, and your sempstress, though Nature may have furnished her no hips, does not perspire in interminable piles of skirts. Rose, imagine the old age of such women—no resource but the looking-glass, and that at last casting melancholy reflections in their faces. Not that vanity is confined to the female sex—(Come in, John, you are just in time). I am about to give you an exemplification of the remark I have just hazarded, in the history of Theodore Vanilla.
"River House was full of summer boarders when I first saw him there; nursery-maids and children ad infinitum; ladies in profusion, whose husbands and brothers went and returned morning and evening to their business in the city.
"Of course the ladies were left to themselves in the middle of the day, and some of the most mischievous verified the truth of the old primer-adage; that 'Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.' Theodore was their unconscious butt, and they made the most of him.
"Every evening they assembled on the piazza when the cars came in, and 'hoped,' with anxious faces, 'that Mr. Vanilla had not concluded to remain over night in the city.' The self-satisfied smile with which he would step up on the piazza rub his hands, and his
"'Now really, ladies,'
"As he turned delightedly from one to the other, were a picture for Hogarth.
"Then after tea there was a preconcerted dispute among them, which should monopolize him 'for their evening walk;' and the innocence with which he would reply to all this fore-ordained wrangling,
"'Now ladies don't quarrel, and I'll engage to take turns with you,'