substitute for a bonnet, so universal in the western country, a dirty cotton handkerchief, which is used ad nauseam for all sorts of

purposes.

"Mother wants your sifter, and she says she guesses you can let her have some sugar and tea, 'cause you 've got plenty.'

"This excellent reason, ''cause you 've got plenty,' is conclusive as to sharing with your neighbors. Whoever comes into Michigan with nothing, will be sure to better his condition; but woe to him that brings with him anything like an appearance of abundance, whether of money or mere household conveniences. To have them, and not be willing to share them in some sort with the whole community, is an unpardonable crime. You must lend your best horse qui que ce soit to go ten miles over hill and marsh, in the darkest night, for a doctor; or your team to travel twenty after a 'gal;' your wheel-barrows, your shovels, your utensils of all sorts, belong, not to yourself, but to the public, who do not think it necessary even to ask a loan, but take it for granted. The two saddles and bridles of Montacute spend most of their time travelling from house to house a-man-back; and I have actually known a stray martingale to be traced to four dwellings two miles apart, having been lent from one to another, without a word to the original proprietor, who sat waiting, not very patiently, to commence a journey."

Mrs. Kirkland does not seem altogether to relish the joke, although she seems thoroughly aware of its comicality. She says:

"But the cream of the joke lies in the manner of the thing. It is so straight-forward and honest, none of your hypocritical civility and servile gratitude! Your true republican, when he finds that you possess anything which would contribute to his convenience,

walks in with, 'Are you going to use your horses to-day?' if horses happen to be the thing he needs.

"O, well; if you want them-I was thinking to get 'em to go up north a piece.'

"Or perhaps the desired article comes within the female depart

ment.

"Mother wants to get some butter: that 'ere butter you bought of Miss Barton this mornin.'

"And away goes your golden store, to be repaid perhaps with some cheesy, greasy stuff, brought in a dirty pail, with, Here 's your butter!'

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"A girl came in to borrow a 'wash-dish,' 'because we've got company.' Presently she came back: 'Mother says you 've forgot to send a towel.'

"The pen and ink, and a sheet o' paper and a wafer,' is no unusual request; and when the pen is returned, you are generally informed that you sent an awful bad pen.'

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"I have been frequently reminded of one of Johnson's humorous sketches. A man returning a broken wheel-barrow to a Quaker, with, 'Here' I 've broke your rotten wheel-barrow usin' on 't. I wish you'd get it mended right off, 'cause I want to borrow it again this afternoon.' The Quaker is made to reply, Friend, it shall be done' and I wished I possessed more of his spirit."

We are afraid our quotations are growing upon us, but we cannot resist copying the following scene. Of a truth, America has no more comic pencil than that wielded by the fair hand of Mary Clavers.

"He is quite an old settler, came in four years ago, bringing with him a wife who is to him as vinegar-bottle to oil cruet, or as

mustard to the sugar which is used to soften its biting qualities. Mrs. Doubleday has the sharpest eyes, the sharpest nose, the sharpest tongue, the sharpest elbows, and above all, the sharpest voice that ever 'penetrated the interior' of Michigan. She has a tall, straight, bony figure, in contour somewhat resembling two hardoak planks fastened together and stood on end; and, strange to say! she was full five-and-thirty when her mature graces attracted the eye and won the affections of the worthy Philo. What eclipse had come over Mr. Doubleday's usual sagacity when he made choice of his Polly, I am sure I never could guess; but he is certainly the only man in the wide world who could possibly have lived with her; and he makes her a most excellent husband.

"She is possessed with a neat devil; I have known many such cases; her floor is scoured every night, after all are in bed, by the unlucky scrubber, Betsey, the maid of all work; and woe to the unfortunate 'indifiddle,' as neighbor Jenkins says, who first sets dirty boot on it in the morning. If men come in to talk over road business, for Philo is much sought when the public' has any work to do; or school-business, for that being very troublesome, and quite devoid of profit, is often conferred upon Philo-Mrs. Doubleday makes twenty errands into the room, expressing in her visage all the force of Mrs. Raddle's inquiry, 'Is them wretches going?' And when at length their backs are turned, out comes the bottled vengeance. The sharp eyes, tongue, elbow, and voice, are all in instant requisition.

"Fetch the broom, Betsey! and the scrub-broom, Betsey! and the mop, and that 'ere dish of soap, Betsey; and why on earth didn't you bring some ashes? You didn't expect to clean such a floor as this without ashes, did you? What time are you going to have dinner, my dear?' says the imperturbable Philo, who is getting ready to go out.

"Dinner! I'm sure I don't know! there's no time to cook dinner in this house! nothing but slave, slave, slave, from morning till night, cleaning up after a set of nasty, dirty, &c. &c. Phew,' says Mr. Doubleday, looking at his fuming helpmate with a calm smile, 'it'll all rub out when it 's dry, if you 'll only let it alone.'

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"Yes, yes; and it would be plenty clean enough for you if there had been forty horses in here.”

But the crowning joke of borrowing is contained in the following request:

"We were in deep consultation one morning on some important point touching the well-being of this sole object of Mrs. Doubleday's thoughts and dreams, when the very same little Ianthe Howard, dirty as ever, presented herself. She sat down and stared awhile without speaking, à l'ordinaire; and then informed us that her mother wanted Miss Doubleday to let her have her baby for a little while, 'cause Benny's mouth 's so sore, that'- but she had no time to finish the sentence.

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"LEND MY BABY!!!'-and her utterance failed."

It reminds us of an indignant message once sent by a loving papa, who was very fond of his firstborn. Coming home from store one evening in full expectation of nursing his darling production, he was annoyed to find that some young ladies, next door, had borrowed it to exhibit to some of their friends. As this had frequently happened, he sent for it back and desired his servant would say: "That Mr. Billings requested the young ladies would get a baby of their own, and not borrow his in future!"

From this specimen of Michigan manners, so vividly given,

we come to a tale charmingly told. We have seldom met with a romance so Arcadian as that of Cora Mansfeld. As the young ladies would say: "It is a love of a tale."

Nor is Mrs. Kirkland behind in a knowledge of what constitutes a patriot. Her description is so graphic that we cannot resist the temptation to enrich our pages with it.

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"From this auspicious commencement may be dated Mr. Jenkins's glowing desire to serve the public. Each successive election-day saw him at his post. From eggs he advanced to pies, from pies to almanacs, whiskey, powder and shot, foot-balls, playing-cards, and at length, for ambition ever did grow with what it fed on,' he brought into the field a large turkey, which was tied to a post and stoned to death at twenty-five cents a throw. By this time the still youthful aspirant had become quite the man of the world; could smoke twenty-four cigars per diem, if anybody else would pay for them; play cards in old Hurler's shop from noon till day-break, and rise winner; and all this with suitable trimmings of gin and hard words. But he never lost sight of the mainchance. He had made up his mind to serve his country, and he was all this time convincing his fellow-citizens of the disinterested purity of his sentiments."

We strongly incline to the belief that Mrs. Kirkland would excel in a romance of real life, laying the scene in the present times. Her eye is keen and retentive; her style infinitely superior to Thackeray or Dickens; and if she be somewhat deficient in imagination, let her reflect how wonderfully the latter has managed without that rare faculty. That she has invention we feel assured, although she has not yet given her attention to works which favor its development. She has admirable