refined guests are wont to exhibit at the table of their entertainer.

But if these expressions of mirth were as vapid and unmeaning as the idle crackling of thorns beneath the pot, those of the Baron's daughter, who sate at his left hand, in "flower of youth and beauty's pride," were of a far different character. Fair, plump, and just turned of eighteen, the lovely heiress of Ehrenfriedersdorf might have served as a model for Hebe. A forehead smooth and white as Parian marble; arching brows, from beneath which glanced the fires of two of the brightest eyes that ever sparkled at a merry tale; cheeks tinted with the rose's deepest dye, and graced by a pair of dimples which seemed the impress of Love's own fingers; and two ruby lips, whose innocent smile disclosed a row of ivory, fairer and purer than the pearls which gemmed her bosom, formed a combination of beauty and expression that would well have become the laughter-loving goddess Euphrosyne in her happi

est moments.

A clap of thunder would not have produced a more sedative effect upon this jovial circle, than did the sudden appearance of the melancholy, wo-begone physiognomy of Tristan. The merry notes of the guests died 66 into a away quaver of consternation;" and the under jaw of the Baron fell convulsively as he gazed upon our hero in speechless amazement.

For a moment the fair Cunegunda herself was startled. But the droll expression of the countenances about her, which seemed to have been so suddenly frozen in their career of glee, that their muscles had not had time to subside into the state of original quiescence; and the queer, melancholy, awkward appearance of Tristan, who, in a solemn manner, peculiar to himself, advanced and delivered his credentials to the Baron, struck so forcibly her perceptions of the ludicrous, that she burst forth into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, of so contagious a nature that all present joined with heart and soul in a peal of tremendous cachinnation.

Having perused the epistle with great gravity, the Baron, who prided himself upon his politeness and good breeding, and took every opportunity of evincing them, particularly when he was a little tipsy, advanced with open arms, and gave our hero a grip of the hand which made him think himself within the paws of a bear, and a hug which had well nigh squeezed the breath from his body. Then casting a stern look upon his daughter, and bestowing a hearty box on the ear upon the old governante at his right, who was maintaining an hysterical sort of a giggle, and admonishing the venerable person by her

side that he was laughing at the wrong place-with many flourishes he introduced Tristan to his family. Tristan made a profound obeisance to the lady, being under no small apprehensions of receiving some of the Baron's tokens of regard. But when he endeavored to put a smirk upon his face, which the sage Marascallerus had tried to teach him, and which he had been practising upon the road, the severe looks of her father could not restrain the young lady, and she burst forth into another exorbitant peal of laughter. The rest of the party were only prevented from following her example by the grievous punishment the Baron had just inflicted on the previous offenders.

In a little time, however, order was at length restored. Tristan was placed by the side of the fair Cunegunda; and as he was a comely, proper looking youth, and possessed of a sufficiency of the savoir faire, by practising those little nameless attentions which please without appearing conspicuous, he soon removed the unpleasant feelings which had been produced by his ill-timed entrance. Though he could not laugh at them, he listened to the Baron's long-winded stories with a profound attention, which, as it was a novelty to the old gentleman, tickled the very cockles of his heart. He also conversed with the ladies about music, poetry, and the last new novel; made divers very apposite remarks upon the dishes and wines; gave a recipe for a new method of stuffing sausages; and quoted several High Dutch proverbs, and apothegms, in such a sweet gentle tone and manner as quite won the hearts of all present. The fair Cunegunda began to feel a rising partiality for him, and thought within herself "if he would only laugh a little, what a charming youth he would be!" But the old Dame Eickenschnaucker, whose ears still tingled with the Baron's rebuke, and the venerable Grubenhausen cherished a secret grudge against poor Tristan, as the innocent cause of their mortifications.

At a decent hour the family retired to rest; and Tristan was shown to the spare bed-room which had been prepared for his reception. He undressed and got into bed, but it was long ere the poppies of Morpheus descended upon his eyelids. Many and strange fantasies floated before him. The astounded face of the Baron on their first meeting, the comical phiz of the governante, and the malignant features of old Grubenhausen, seemed to present themselves to his eyes whichever way he turned. But predominant was the beautiful countenance of the heiress of Ehrenfriedersdorf. As each feature of that lovely face presented itself to his mind's eye, and each

tone of that sweet voice reverberated upon his mind's ear, he experienced a strange sensation about his heart; and as he tossed uneasily in his bed, he heaved a profound sigh, and exclaimed to himself, "what a happy mortal I should be if fair Cunegunda did'nt laugh so much!" Sleep, at last, visited him, but strange dreams continued to haunt his repose. He thought he was leading to the altar the fair object who had made such a deep impression upon his heart. Her looks were composed to a serious, solemn cast, and not the slightest vestige of a smile could be traced upon them. Four and twenty groomsmen and bridesmaids, in sad colored garments, and countenances of a most ravishing melancholy, stood around with white handkerchiefs held to their eyes. The Baron with a pleasing composure, was just giving his daughter to Tristan, and our hero with a transport of serious joy, was receiving the precious gift, when on a sudden the features of the bride changed to those of the old Governante Eickenschnaucker, who grinned and gibbered and sniggered in his face. He recoiled in horror from the apparition, and the Baron, with a look of wrath, aimed a demolishing blow at the face of the intruder. The beldame, with a grin of delight, and with the quickness of lightning, dodged the Baron's fist, which descended full upon the visage of the luckless Tristan. The four and twenty ladies and gentlemen with white handkerchiefs set up a peal of laughter; and with the pain of the blow, and his horror of the sound, our hero awoke from his terrifying dream. Shivering with cold and prehension, he found that, in a fit of somnambulism, he had thumped his head against that of a carved Gorgon, meant, by the sculptor, for an angel, which ornamented an old cupboard, containing an assortment of old vials, pewter mugs, and some pieces of old family china, the jingling of which, as they rattled from shelf to shelf, had conveyed to his mind the detested impression of a peal of laughter. Tristan having rubbed his eyes, scratched his head, and collected his scattered ideas, found that it was broad day. The beams of the rising sun were streaming gloriously through the casement. He leaned out of the window, which looked down upon the Baron's garden. It was a lovely morning in the month of June. The twittering of the swallows on the eaves of the roof, the hum of thousands of busy insects, the gentle murmur of the morning breeze, as it played among the leaves of the old elms, and the confused sounds, which, softened by distance, came upon his ear from the awakening city, produced a soothing effect upon Tristan. Two rosy-cheeked rugged urchins were sporting up and down one Vol. II. No. IX.

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of the gravel walks, in all the buoyancy, and exuberant spirits of childhood. Every now and then, as some little incident occarred, they gave vent to their feelings in loud bursts of laughter. The sound grated upon Tristan's ear as he turned from the window in disgust. Why am I thus continually mocked?” exclaimed he in the bitterness of his spirit-" why am I forever tormented by this strange noise, which I can neither imitate nor comprehend? Why am I alone of all mankind denied the privilege of throwing the muscles of my face into that congregation of wrinkles, which men call smiling; or of making that incomprehensible sound to which they give the name of laughter? I can elevate and depress my eyebrows-1 can wink, stare, or squint, with my eyes-I can puff out, and suck in my cheeks-I can open or pucker up my mouth. Why can't I smile? I can make all manner of noises too-I can cough-I can whistle-I can sneeze-I can sigh-I can groan-and I can blow the German flute. Why can't I laugh?”

Here the unfortunate young man, in a paroxysm of impatience, gave himself several severe thumps on his head, as if to inquire why the organ of risibility had been jostled out of his cranium; and also several plunges in the side with his elbow, as if to know why his diaphragm would not vibrate spasmodically like those of other people.

Just then the breakfast bell sounded. Tristan blessed his stars that they had not deprived him of the organs of eating and drinking; and that he had the full use of his muscles of mastication, with a good appetite to boot. Then hastily dressing himself, and tying his cravat with a particular degree of nicety, he repaired to the breakfast table.

It would now be a mere waste of pen, ink, and paper, were I to attempt to describe the various stages of the progress which our knight of the rueful countenance made in the affections of the fair Cunegunda. How, from a dull, solemn, queer-looking gawky youth, he began to be esteemed in her eyes, a sedate, and agreeable young man; and from thence to be looked upon as a charming and interesting creature. I know not by what erratic law the ebbings and flowings of a woman's affections are regulated; and it ill suits me now to tell how ladies' hearts are won. Suffice it to say, that partly by the persevering attention of Tristan, whom love had taught to do every thing but laugh for his mistress-partly because Cunegunda was at that particular age, when ladies for the sake of novelty, seem to be anxious to get loose from mamma's apron strings, and to have an establishment of their own-and partly because the Baron, whose voice was omni

potent in his family, had decided upon the match ;-the wedding, as was proper and decent, was fixed at a month from the time of our hero's arrival.

An event of so great importance, as may be imagined, created no small sensation in the town of Stade. Fame, as is. usual on such occasions, had magnified our hero into a nobleman of high rank and immense fortune. His serious and devout demeanour at church, was a matter of edification to the whole congregation, particularly the old ladies, who set him up as a pattern for the youngsters who were wont to crack nuts and jokes at the church door, and to titter and gossip during service. All the young ladies peeped at him from under their bonnets, as they would have done at any other novelty; the beaux looked with an evil eye upon the stranger who was going to carry off the beauty for whom they had long sighed in vain; and the sexton, as Tristan put a grofchen more than any one else into the poor's box, exalted his riches and liberality to the echo.

The next evening, Tristan accompanied the Baron and his daughter to the theatre, to see the comic opera of "Punch and the Devil," a favorite piece of the Baron's. The lady and her father, as well as the whole audience, were ready to die with laughter, but our hero maintained the same serene and staid deportment that he had observed at church the day previous, He said it was all very fine, because he heard the others say so, and joined in encoring the bravura of “Ich bin der Herr Ponsch!" because Cunegunda said she would give the world to hear it again. But amidst the broad grins, the suppressed titters, the sudden guffaws, and the obstreperous explosions of laughter by which he was surrounded on all sides, his muscles kept their firm unaltered mien, and composed imperturbable expression. This was attributed to good breeding, and polished manners, which prevented him from descending so far from his dignity. He was accordingly looked up to with increased reverence and admiration by the more risible plebians.

But alas for Tristan-"the stream of true love" does not run more smooth in Germany than any where else. A storm was brewing for him. Cunegunda's ancient governess, Frau Eickenschnaucker, had not blotted from the tablets of her memory the box on the ear which Tristan had been the innocent cause of procuring for her, and the venerable Grubenhausen still cherished the remembrance of the Baron's contumelious treatment. They would as soon have parted with their ears as have attempted any retaliation upon the Baron;,