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.