The weekly democratic statesman. [volume] (Austin, Tex.) 1871-1883, 1873-07-17
KITES ENGLISH.
BY GEORGE CARY EooLEsrON.
PASSAGE AT ARMS.

deflNatlfe, meaning something ike cur,
and my self-love forbids me to believe that
you knowingly apply that term in its full
force 10 your unquestionably agreeable
brother. prefer to think that you use il
to mean something else, as is customary
with young ladies whose familiarity with
the English language is of that kind which
prompts them TO take unwaTrantable liber-
ties with it. Really, now, you do not
mean eynic, do your"
s'Pshal how provokingl you never will
be serious. / mean misanthrope, if that
suits your critical -mightiness better.
You'll admit you're misanthrope?"
. Scarcely, if / may be allowed to Dor
row that choice selection of vulgarism of
expression from your late schoolmate and
very particular friend, whom you brought
into this house, last week, with deliberate
designs,upon my personal liberty. Scarce
~, ! say. A misanthrope is one who hates
mankind in the aggregate. do nothing
of the kind, probably because it would re-
quire an exertion to do so, and that would
tire me. No, my dear; l am only indiffer-
ent, not even hating the women with whom
you persistently bore me, and whose names
| as persistently forget, because they are of
no sort of consequence to me-
well, you're shabby, forgetful lazy,
provoking thing, you know you arew
Nov, my dear Kate, without troubling
myself to point out to you again the bad
habit you have of running the two words
you are into one unauthorized conglomer-
ate, / must say that your last utterance
strikes me as somewhat inconsistent with
your eulogy upon my virtues, pronounced
the other day for your visitors edihcation.
If / remember your words correctly
caught them from myrecumbent position on
the library lounge-they were to the effect
that am the dearest and best brother in
the world, and only need a wife or some
thing of that sort, to render me perfect If
! state your position incorrectly, beg that
you will set me right. The slightness of
the interest l felt in the subject of your con-
versation made me less attentive, perhaps,
than might have been"
That's story, Harry. You know there's
not a subject
Pardon me, my dear Kate, and allow me
again to plead again for the verb to be-
Twice in the brief remark which am in
terrupting, you have decapitated that useful
verbs third person singular, present indica-
tive form, merging it summarily into words
of far less dignity. Pray proceed now with
your remark"
'sWell, then, sir
(which is not elegant English, Kate
Il won't talk with you, you horrid
thing"
. Won't is an extremely rude corruption
of would not, while, believe, you mean
to say you will not talk with me, do you
not, my dearl But really, Kate, it is high
time that you should abandon this effort to
entrap me into a marriage. While was at
college, you made my vacations dreary
wastes of time with your endless excursions
and parties, and other clumsy contrivances
to bring me into contact with women who,
you hoped, would turn my head, despite
the fact that to have done so would have
been to unfit me for further prosecution
of my studies. While we were in Europe,
you would actually bring up one of your
insipid young lady friends to interrupt my
linguistic studies, and afterwards take me
to task for the offense of preferring to talk
in patois with peasant woman old enough
to be my grandmother, rather than to pick
up the handkerchief purposely dropped by
that Lydia Languish of an English girl, for
whom, as for her country, art had done so
much more than nature Now that l am
forbidden by my doctor to continue my
newspaper work, and peremptorily ordered
to seek rest and country air, you have de-
termined to drag me bodily to the wilds Of
the West, in the vain hope that will marry
one Of our semi-barbarous cousins there.
have promised to go with you, but you
must know that do so simply because
am the dearest and best brother in the
world. There is consolation, however, in
the reflection that our relatives, the Laurys,
will never know when ! am laughing at
them; aud / can amuse myself with their
innocence without offending them
Nov, then, Mr.. Harry, I'm mad 1
don't believe our Western cousins are as
rude and uncultivated as you think them,
and know they are warm-hearted, excel
lent people. It was very kind of them to
inviteus I'm sure, and if you dare to make
fun Of any of them, I'll Just tell them how
you trified with the Lady Ann De Vere's af-
fections at Florence. You know you treated
her shamefully.n
''Her affections, say yous Ny dear Kate,
how innocent You arel Why, she numb
cred her experiences of that sort by the
hundred. Her heart was precisely like a
cullender, If you will pardon the culinary
figure Of speech. She wanted to marry me
simply because she understood in a vague
way that / was wealthy; and in pursuit Of so
eligible q husband she annoyed me dread
fully with her attentions was too indo-
lent to resist until she became unbearable,
and then / fed to the mountains-id 81. I
went to Naples and took q look at Vesu-
vius. The head and front Of my offending
hath this extent, no more, / do assure You.
Good goodln shouted his sister; Il
have walked him up at last, and goaded him
into defending himself with 4 quotation
-.