The daily union. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1845-1857, 1845-05-31
MISCELLAN EO u s.
From the London Punch.
MRS. CAUDLE's CURTAIN LECTURES.

u Il - " IA Ia IL N ~ Il ~ " ~
From the London Punch
MRS. CAUDLE'S CURTAIN LECTURES
MIA Cauds ,,rre,, thaf her dear mother should "cons
n and Hps suith them" :,
sis your cold better tonight, Caudlef Yes;
thought il was. Twill be quite wen tomorrow,
dare say. There's love! You don't care enough
of yourself Caudle, you don't. And you ought,
I'm sure; Il only for my sake. For whatever l
should do, il any thing was to happen TO you-but
won't think of il; no. can't bear to think of that
Still, YOU ought to take care Of yourself; for you
know you're not strong, Caudle; you know you're
not a
Now you needn't go to sleep, SO suddenly. Isay,
wasn't she happy You don't knoio. How can you
say you don't know You must have seen it. But
she always is happier here than anywhere else.
Fla! what temper that dear soul has call 1t a
temper Of satin; it is smooth, so easy so SOFT.
Nothing puts her out Of the way. And then, II
you only knew how she takes your part, Caudle
I'm sure, if you had been her son ten times over,
she couldn't be fonder of you. Don't you think so,
Caude! En-, love- Now, do answer. How can
you telR Nonsense, Caudle; you must have seen
il. Pm sure, nothing delights the dear soul 30
much as when she is thinking how TO please you.
Don't you remember Thursday night, the stewed
O. sters, when you came home! That was all dear
mothers doings.' Margaret, says she to me, IT'S
q cold night; and don't you think dear Mr. Caudie
would like something nice before he goes to bed'
And that, Caudle, is how the oysters came about
Now, don't sleep, Caudle; do listen to me, for hve
minutes 'tisnt often speak, goodness knows.
And then, what fuss she makes when you're
out if your slippers arnt put to the hre for you.
She's gerry good Yes-I know she is, Caudle. And
hasn't she been six months-though promised her
not to tell you--six months, working watch-pocket
for you! And with her eyes, dear soul-aod at her
time of life!
And then, what cook she isl Pm sure the
dishes she'll make out of next to nothing try
hard enough TO follow her; but, I'm not ashamed to
own il, Caudle, she quite beats me. Ha! the
many nice things she'd simmer up for you-and |
can't do it; the children, you know, Caude, take SO
much of my time. l can't do it, love; and often
reproach myself that can't. Now, you shan't 60
to sleep, Caudle at least not for five minutes You
must hear me.
I've been thinking, dearest-ha! that nasty cough,
love-Iye been thinking, darling, if we could only
persuade dear mother to come and live with us
now, Caudle, you can't be asleep; it's impossible
you were coughing only this minute-what a treas
ure we should have in her! Then, Candle, you
never need go to bed without something nice and
hot; and you want it, Caude. You don't ipaft IL?
Nonsense, you do; for you are not strong, Caudle;
| you know you're not.
Pm sure, the money she'd save in housekeep-
| ing. Ha! what eye she has for joint! The
butcher doesn't walk that could deceive dear moth
er. And then, again, for poultry! What finger
market like her; it's agift--quite a gift.
| And then you recollect her marrow puddings'
You don't recoiiect 'em? Oh ie! Caudle, how often
have you flung her marrow-puddings in my face,
wanting to know why could not make them! And
wouldn't pretend to do it after dear mother
should think it presumption. Now love, If she was
only living with us--come, you're not asleep, Cau
def she was only living with you could have
marrow-puddings every day. Now don't fling your
self about, and begin to swear at marrow-puddngs;
you know you like 'em, dear.
What hand, too, dear mother has got for pie
crust But it's born with some people. What do
| you say' Why tCasnr II born ,oiih me? Now, eau
de- that's cruel unfeeling of you; wouldn't have
uttered such reproach to you for the whole world
People cannot be born as they like.
And then dear mothers jams and preserves, love-
own it, Caudle; it has often gone to my heart that
with cold meat you havn't always had pudding
Now if mother was with US, in the matter of fruit
puddings she'd make il summer all the year round
But l never could preserve-how mother does It,
and for next to no money whatever. What nice
dogs-in-a-banket she'd make for the children!
What's dogs-in-a-blanket Oh, they're delicious
| az dear mother makes 'em.
| Now you have tasted her Irish stew, Caudle!
You remember that Come, you're not asleep
you remember that And how fond you are of IT,
And can never have it made to plea you! Now,
what relief to me it would be if dear mother was
always at hand that you might have a stew when
you liked. What load it would be off my mind
Again, for pickles. Not at all like anybody else's
pickles.. Her red cabbage-why it's as crisp as bis
cult And then her walnuts-and her all-sorts. Eth,
Caudlei You know how you love pickles; and
how we sometimes tiff about em' Now If dear
mother was here, a word would never pass between
us. And Pm sure nothing would make me happier,
for-you re not asleep, Caudle!-for can't bear to
quarrel, can |, lover
The children, too, are so fond of her And she'd
be such help to me with 'em Pm sure, with dear
mother in the house, shouldn't care fig for mea-
sizes, or anything Of the sort. As nurse, she's
such a treasure!
And at her time of life, what needlewoman!
And the darning and mending for the children, it
really gets quite beyond me now, Caudle. Now
with mother at my hand, there wouldn't be stitch
wanted in the house.
And then when you're out late, Caudle-for
know you must be out late, sometimes; can't ex-
pect you, of course, to be always at home--why
then dear mother could sit up for you, and nothing
would delight the dear soul half SO much.
And so, Caudle, love, think dear mother had
BETTER come, don't your Eli, Caudle! Now, you're
not asleep darling; don't you think she'd better
come'-You say No? You say MOI AGAIN. You ,oorr
haze her? you say; You tronf, that's flat? Caudle-
Cau-C audle-Cau-dle-"
"Here, Mrs. Caudle," says Mr. c. in his MS,
Suddenly went into tears; and went to sleep"