how such monstrous words can come out of a man’s throat whole, without choking him, or themselves splitting to pieces.  When I hear a public speaker going on in that way, I generally think that the poor fellow is making up in big words what he lacks in brains, and if I could whisper a small word or two in his ear, I should be apt to say, “That will never do, sir.  You can’t pass yourself off for a great scholar with this clap-trap.  You are nothing but a pistareen, and rather smooth at that.  You are, indeed.  Those big words that we have to bend up and twist around to get into our coat-pockets, will not go for sense.  So pray be quiet, and not attempt to pass for any more than you are honestly worth, which is little enough, to be sure.”

I have known boys and girls at school attempt to pass for more than their real value.  Whenever I hear a boy asking somebody to write a composition for him, or to help him write one, which he intends to palm off as his own, or see him jog the boy that sits next him in the school-room, to get some help in reciting a bad lesson, I think of the pistareen, and want very much to caution the little fellow not to pass for more than he is worth.  And it makes very little difference that I know of, whether it is a boy or a girl.  It seems just as bad in one case as it does in the other.

It happens once in a while that a young lady puts on a great many charms that are not natural to her, and uses every kind of deception, just for the sake of being admired, or, perhaps, to get a good husband.  It is bad business, though.  Sensible men are not often caught with such a trap; and if they are, when they find out how the matter stands—­and they will find it out sooner or later—­they despise the trick as one of the meanest that was ever invented.  I have a notion, too, that this kind of deception is pretty common among young gentlemen, as well as young ladies.  But it is a miserable business, whoever may work at it.  It never turns out well in the end, if it does after a fashion at first.  It is a great deal better to be natural, and to act like one’s self.  This passing for more than one is worth, to buy a husband or a wife, as the case may be, don’t pay, as the merchant says.

Some people work like a horse in a bark-mill, to make every body believe they are most excellent Christians, very nearly as pious as the angel Gabriel, when the truth is, their religion is all sham, and they will lie and cheat as bad as any body, if they think they will not be found out.  Whenever I see one of this class, trying with all his might to pass for a saint, with his face as long as a yard-stick, or, perhaps, all lighted up with kindly smiles, I can’t help thinking of the pistareen.  It will come into my mind in spite of all I can do.  Why, all the time the man is putting on these airs, he is plotting some scheme for selfish gain, or some mischief, just as likely as not.  “He does not rise toward heaven like the lark, to make music, but like the