In travelling from New York to Philadelphia, some years since, the slenderness of my knowledge of the French led me into a most egregious error, and excited the displeasure of a splendid French lady who was in the stage. She had lived a long time in New York, and yet spoke the English language very imperfectly. I told her she ought to speak English constantly, when she was in company with English or Americans: that this was the only way in which she could acquire it. "Monsieur," says she, "j'ai honte," I am ashamed; literally, "I have shame." Reiterating her own word, I replied, "Madame, je croyais que les dames Françoises n' avaient pas de honte"—whereas I ought to have said, as I really meant, "mauvaise honte." She was exasperated, and told me indignantly that the French ladies had as much "shame" (meaning modesty) as the Americans; and that there was more immorality practised in New York than in Marseilles, of which she was a native, or in Martinique, where she had long resided. It was in vain that I repeatedly pledged my honor that I had not meant to affront her; that I was led into error solely by repeating her own word. It was equally in vain that I appealed to some of the passengers who understood French, who testified that the mistake was perfectly natural, and was justified by the imperfection of my knowledge of her language. Nothing could pacify her, and after several vain attempts, I relinquished the hope of soothing her feelings, and she scarcely spoke another word during the rest of the journey.
AUTOGRAPHY.
Our friend and particular acquaintance, Joseph Miller, Esq. (who, by the way, signs his name, we think, Joseph A. Miller, or Joseph B. Miller, or at least Joseph C. Miller) paid us a visit a few days ago. His behavior was excessively odd. Walking into our sanctum without saying a word, he seated himself with a dogged air in our own exclusive arm-chair, and surveyed us, for some minutes, in silence, and in a very suspicious manner, over the rim of his spectacles. There was evidently something in the wind. "What can the man want?" thought we, without saying so.
"I will tell you," said Joseph Miller, Esq.—that is to say, Joseph D. Miller, Joseph E. Miller, or possibly Joseph F. Miller, Esq. "I will tell you," said he. Now, it is a positive fact that we had not so much as attempted to open any of our mouths.
"I will tell you," said he, reading our thoughts.
"Ah, thank you!" we replied, slightly smiling, and feeling excessively uncomfortable—"thank you!—we should like to know."
"I believe," resumed he—resumed Joseph G. Miller—"I believe you are not altogether unacquainted with our family."