New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1853-05-17

see o nrSt-rate manager, i assure you. In the
first place, she is always late to breakfast she
never combs and ties up her hair, but only gives
it smooth and twirl, sets in her comb awry,
and SO much is completed. Her dress generally
has two or three green spots upon the front
breadtbs, her shoes are down at the heel, and
she scuffs about rather than walks. She is too
lazy to open the windows to air her chamber
too indolent to take her night dress out of her
bed; too inefficient to throw back the bed
clothes. She yawns over her breakfast, laughs
with her brothers about some young " gent y
hopes sc somebody can take hints looks over
the morning papers and reads the marriages, the
concert notices, the new play at the Museum
and what is going on at the Athen@um, and
then sits over the parlor register with yellow
covered book of the last trash literature, till her
mother says, ''Sophias dear, do you know how
late it is Do, child, make your toilet. Mr..
Woodfun may call, and what would he think p
for this pretty piece of clay is engaged to be
married to our Tom.
Well, she goes into her nicely arranged bed
chamber, which the maid has so carefully put
in order. Heavens, how pretty it looks in few
moments Stockings thrown helter- -skelter, q
pair of boots both string less and worn thread
bare themorning dress1eft Just as she dropped
out of it, and two old faded skirts all tattered
about the bottom. Her brush is full of hair,
her comb looks as black as ink, her toilet cover
| is bedaubed with I" Macassar,'' bears oil, -
and g rosemary" But she is now dressed
| for the parlor, ready to receive Mr.. Wood
fun. Her hair is combed over her ears as
smoothly as if a polishing-iron had aattened
every stray lock, her dress is all neatly
hooked up, and what trim little form she as
| sumes Her boots are laced close, and she hold,
| the identical piece of ruffiing in her hand t.
hem which she began a month ago! Her moth
er speaks of ''Sophia's industry-she is afrait
| she will sew her eyes out of her head. She il
| thankful Mr.. Woodfun has called, to invite hel
going there, another dressing takes place, ant
her room again looks as if Bedlam were le
lloose, which makes only three times a dau tina
the chamber maid is called to put things t
rights.
And the worst of all is, sour Soph '' is ex
pecting to marry Tom, whose father is a ric
man, but has put his son to clerkship, a
the sum of five hundred per annum! Tom, d
take another look before you leap-just on
more, my good fellow Take off the finger
rings, take out the watch, tade off the boots
and look at the unmended hose--lift up the dress
and see that hole under the arm--take off tn
ribbon around the neck, and see how greasy
| is inside-and, as / live, her pocket-handker
chief isn't hemmed! What wife you are get
ting! Think Of her management. How you
shirts and dickeys would be made; how you
drawers would be folded; your stockings darn
ed, your pants mended, your rips sewed, an
your pockets feeced to pay for gewgaws, an
dressing maids, and cooks, and chamber girl.
With your five hundred salary all spent in you
first three months of house keeping, and yor
with your finger in your mouth, asking you
father to lend you a thousand or so! And the
to comfort you, the slack-twisted woman is you
wife, and she is yours, entirely yours. Don
talk now about hanging, or drowning. or bein
swallowed up; only let your wife do her ow
way, and my word for it, something akin to Ii
cholera will take you off-for malignant disease
find their smart marks where dirt and vegetabl
decomposition goes on uninterruptedly. [Yar
kee Blade.