cont. Turtle 5.20.47 531 THE NEW MIRROR. EVERY NUMBER EMBELLISHED WITH A STEEL ENGRAVING. THREE DOLLARS A YEAR. VOLUME II. OFFICE OF PUBLICATION, ANN-STREET, NEAR BROADWAY. THE TITLE AND WESTWARD, HO! TWO BEAUTIFUL ORIGINAL ENGRAVINGS, DESIGNED AND ENGRAVED FOR THIS WORK. THE old ballad says, "Sing a song of sixpence," 66 but here is more than was ever "sold for a song"or a sixpence. Inspect your fip" 's-worth, dear reader. Is not that TITLE-PAGE, for your bound volume, quite delicious? Please us by studying out its many sweet and exquisitely-drawn devices. The other picture-" Westward, ho!"—as an illustration of a SONG, (selected for illustration by the artist himself,) was surely never equalled out of the imaginative land of Retzch, and as a mere picture, it is a thing we offer you with pride and delight. Altogether we dovetail our hands at this number and sit with them crossed on our waistcoat, in complacent satisfaction. THE YELLOW ROSE. TRANSLATED FOR THE NEW MIRROR FROM THE FRENCH OF BERNARD PAYABLE IN ADVANCE. NUMBER 1. "What has our Soliman done to you that you should strike him?" demanded the rustic keeper, in a tone more brutal than courageous. Instead of replying, the young man took the trunk under which the little commissioner was bending, and with one turn of his hand, flung it into the arms of the stupified peasant. "If M. Simart has gone out, M. Teissier is in the house. Conduct me to his room, and go and find him." Submitting to the ascendancy which imperious language, sustained with physical force, exercises over common people, the porter obeyed, although with sullenness. To give vent to his ill-humour, in passing before the niche where Soliman was crouched, he gave him an angry kick; but the dog, insulted in his retreat, sprung furiously upon him, and with one grasp instantly changed the appearance of the clothes of the provoker. Thunder" cried the peasant, seeing the misfortune that had befallen his Sunday costume. "This is too bad, that Mademoiselle Celestine will protect this brigand dog, and one must let himself be devoured by him or else lose his place! I wish your cane had broken his jaws." "Ah! does Mademoiselle Celestine love dogs?" said the traveller in an under tone. "How has she managed it, then, with Teissier, who cannot endure them? Bah! love works miracles." handsome staircase; then, at the end of a corridor which served for the communication of the rooms of the first floor, he arrived at a door which he opened without ceremony, as soon his guide said: "This is it." SOME years since, on a fine morning in spring, a young man of good mien and elegant tournure, alighted from the Paris diligence about two leagues from Provins. The place was neither a village, nor an inhabited plain. On the right and left of the route were scattered several country-houses, surrounded by parks or gardens, according to the fortune After having crossed the court and a vestibule, ornamentof the proprietors. After considering for a few moments,ed with boxes of orange-trees, the young man ascended a the traveller called to a young peasant who was walking behind the vehicle, put some money into his hand, lifted his small leathern trunk on his shoulder, and proceeded to. wards one of the rural residences, whose flat Italian roof displayed in the sun four statues representing the seasons, placed at the four angles of the building, in an order that Benardin de Saint Pierre would have pronounced full of harmony; that is-spring at the east, autumn towards the west, summer at the south, and winter at the north. Guided by this sculptured allegory, the young man readily found his way through the intricate paths, and five minutes afterwards arrived at a door guarded by two bronze lions. Certain, then, of being right, he brushed the dust from his boots on the grass which bordered the wall, re-tied his cravat, passed his hands through his hair to repair the disorder caused by a night in the diligence-in a word, made the summary toilet allowed a regiment at the entrance of a city where they are to be garrisoned—and then rang the bell. "Is this the house of M. Simart ?" demanded he of a kind of country valet in his Sunday clothes, who opened the door. “Our Monsieur has gone out,” replied the rustic, holding back by the collar a large black dog of less pacific aspect than his neighbours, the lions, and who shamelessly drowned, by his barn-yard voice, every word of the speaker. The first object he perceived was a man seated at a secretary, his elbows resting on the desk, his hands pressed to his forehead, and a pen stuck behind his ear like a clerk in an office. He seemed reflecting profoundly over some letter-paper, scribbled from top to bottom in fantastic Arabic characters. "Ah! is it you?" said the pensive personage; "I expect ed you. Nicholas, put down the trunk in the corner and leave us." "It is myself," replied the traveller, as soon as the ser vant left. "I have come at your call, and here I am, ready to hold the matrimonial pall over your head. When is the wedding to take place?" "I believe the contract is to be signed to-morrow," said Teissier, with a mournful air. You believe you are not sure then? However, it does not surprise me. With your irresolute character, do you ever know what you are going to do the next day?" "My dear Dramond,” sighed the aspirant to the delights of matrimony," sit down and let us talk. You see me in the most perplexing position in which a man could find marry Mademoiselle Simart, I was in a fit of enthusiasm. I saw the future through one of those dazzling prisms which casts the rose's tints over dull reality." Impatient of his noise, the traveller lifted his cane and applied it rudely to the muzzle of the barker. At this un-himself. When I announced to you that I was going to expected correction, he sprung backward and flung the valet against the door, and regarded the aggressor an instant as if he were disposed to devour him; but at the sight of the cane, which was lifted a second time, he suddenly ran away and retreated to a niche, his ears hanging down and his tail between his legs. "And you would tell me in prose that you are now looking on the opposite side of the picture. What do you see there ?" "The devil!" exclaimed Teissier, biting convulsively confess, many alarming thoughts about my future happithe pen he had taken from behind his ear. ness. If she shows herself thus before the honey-moon, "Are you speaking of your intended ?" asked Dramond, what will she be after it ?" laughing. "Lower: these walls may have ears." "The deuce! are we in Nero's palace? Come, here we are in our chairs. Listen to me. I believe I know what confession you have to make. You have found a deficiency in the dowry?" "On the contrary, Mademoiselle Celestine has a cash income of six thousand pounds. Her father has assured me of this, and I had calculated only on nine or ten thou sand pounds in all." "Perhaps you have discovered some doubtful things in her family-an idiot-a person has been hanged-perhaps a poor fellow has been obliged to go to the king of France to be healed?" "No, no; the families of Simart and Valonne are the two most honest, wise, and pure of the whole province." "Then you must have found out that Celestine's mantuamaker is obliged to call in the aid of her art, to remedy some deviations from orthodoxy ?" "What profanation! Look at this young poplar in the garden, moving in the wind! It is not more graceful than Celestine." "Do you believe her wicked?" "Wicked! No; but capricious, headstrong, unreasonable as a spoiled child can make her. But you will see her, and will then tell me if I exaggerate, for she does not seek to hide her faults, and I am sure, before this evening has gone by, she will give you an opportunity of judging for yourself. You, Francis, who do not think of getting married, are spared a great deal of ennui.” "I marry!" cried Dramond, who, during this dialogue, had opened his trunk to change his toilette. I marry! fie, fie! Hymen is a port, and I love the sea. But you do well to get married; you are growing stout, your hair is getting thin, warning you that your conjugal hour has struck, while I am blooming." "What a beautiful rose!" observed Teissier, chuckling. At this moment Dramond, having taken out a coat from his valise a withered, yellow rose fell out of the pocket on the floor. The young man picked it up and looked at it an instant with an air of surprise. "Speaking of roses," said he, "here is one that I did not know was here, and which seems, I have found expressly, to tell me how unworthy I still am of the marriage "Then you must have learned that some darling cousin sacrament. You must know, my dear Aristide, that heedhas been beforehand with you in her heart?" "She has no more cousins than the lamb in the fable had brothers, and I am positively sure she has never loved any one." "Except Soliman." less as I may appear, I have, notwithstanding, a good deal of reason about me. Once married, I would resolve to love my wife, to be faithful to her, and to make her happy. But to hazard such a trial of strength, I wish to be sure of myself. It appears to me necessary, first of all, to empty the "Do you know Soliman ?" exclaimed Teissier, jumping cup of youth, to avoid the temptation of returning to drink "has he bitten you ?" up; "On the contrary; I gave him a good beating." "Heaven recompense you for it! This time you have placed your finger on the wound. It is this cursed animal who is the chief cause of my perplexity." "How is that?" "You know that I detest animals in general, and dogs in particular. This one has, without doubt, found it out from my manners; for, since my arrival, he shows a mortal hatred towards me, and never loses an opportunity to snap at my legs. The first time, I smiled; the second, I frowned; and the third, I requested to have Soliman fastened in his niche. M. Simart would willingly have acceded to my wish; but Mademoiselle Celestine took Soliman's part, reproached me for wishing to deprive him unjustly of his liberty, treated me coolly, looked upon me as a man destitute of civility and wanting in sensibility, and this foolish quarrel has lasted a whole week. Every day she renews it, and brings in a thousand little discussions which I in vain seek to avoid. In a word, this infernal Soliman has become a real stumbling-block to my marriage. If he only barked, it would not be so bad, but he bites!" "You are a fool,” replied Dramond, shrugging his shoulders," to quarrel with your intended about a dog. In this case, you have only to use a little management; give cakes to your Cerberus till the day of your marriage, and the next day give him a bullet that will send him howling to another world." "I have already thought of that, and so far, that evil does not seem irreparable; but what plunges me into an ocean of uncertainty and apprehension, is Mademoiselle Celestine's conduct in this instance. You know that character reveals itself in little things. Vivacity, the spirit of contra. diction, irritability of temper, and passion-of which she has not spared proofs for several days past-causes me, I of it a second time; and I would not be sorry to taste even some of its dregs, since it would give a zest to conjugal nectar." "What has all this nonsense to do with this miserable yellow flower, which, without doubt, you have stolen from the hat of some woman of sixty." "Miserable flower!" repeated Francis, carefully smelling his rose. "It has had, like those of which Malherbe speaks, its morning of life and its beauty. To-day, it is withered and discoloured; but for want of perfume, it has, for me, what I may call a philosophical odour. It recalls a feeling of my weakness. I draw, from contemplating it, a lesson full of wisdom and morality. Do you know what it says to me?" "Do you take me for a Persian ?" asked Teissier, peevishly. "It tells me, my dear Aristide, not to marry yet. But it would be a long story to recite to you, so I will not derange our parts. I have come here to be your witness, your confidant, your faithful Pylades. The privilege of talking, recounting, descriptions, amplifications and other love digressions, belongs to you. Come, I have armed myself with the patience of Job, so no false shame. You have not yet told me whether Mademoiselle Celestine's eyes were blue or black." "No, no; tell me your story, perhaps it will drive away my sad reflections. M. Simart has not come in yet; Celestine is walking, I know not where, with her cousin; so you will have time to tell it before dinner." |