"That will do, my friend. I know there are people who are fond of confessing their weakness; don't you do it. Where is the supremacy of mind and will, and all that nonsense, if a man can't amuse himself with a clever woman's artifices without tumbling into the snare he is watching?"
"We'll see how you succeed with the charming widow,--whether the wise man, when his own _jecur_ is pierced with the arrow, may not show it, as well as other people. And by-the-by, you will have an excellent opportunity for your experiment. Marcia and I are going to take a sail this afternoon, and you can entertain Mrs. Sandford while we are gone."
WHAT HE SAID, WHAT HE HEARD, AND WHAT HE SAW.
I intended to have signalized my first appearance by a certain large statement, which I flatter myself is the nearest approach to a universal formula of life yet promulgated at this breakfast-table. It would have had a grand effect. For this purpose I fixed my eyes on a certain divinity-student, with the intention of exchanging a few phrases, and then forcing my picture-card, namely, _The great end of being_.--I will thank you for the sugar,--I said.--Man is a dependent creature.
It is a small favor to ask,--said the divinity-student,--and passed the sugar to me.
--Life is a great bundle of little things,--I said.
The divinity-student smiled, as if that was the concluding epigram of the sugar question.
You smile,--I said.--Perhaps life seems to you a little bundle of great things?
The divinity-student started a laugh, but suddenly reined it back with a pull, as one throws a horse on his haunches.--Life is a great bundle of great things,--he said.
(_Now, then_!) The great end of being, after all, is----
Hold on!--said my neighbor, a young fellow whose name seems to be John, and nothing else,--for that is what they all call him,--hold on! the Sculpin is go'n' to say somethin'.
Now the Sculpin (_Cottus Virginianus_) is a little water-beast which pretends to consider itself a fish, and, under that pretext, hangs about the piles upon which West-Boston Bridge is built, swallowing the bait and hook intended for flounders. On being drawn from the water, it exposes an immense head, a diminutive bony carcass, and a surface so full of spines, ridges, ruffles, and frills, that the naturalists have not been able to count them without quarrelling about the number, and that the colored youth, whose sport they spoil, do not like to touch them, and especially to tread on them, unless they happen to have shoes on, to cover the thick white soles of their broad black feet.