room, on the third story, where, with the ends of her red shawl, she may blow and warm her fingers.  Sister Scudder is a crispy little body, in spectacles.  Her features are extremely sharp, and her countenance continually wears a wise expression.  As for her knowledge of scripture, it is truly wonderful, and a decided improvement when contrasted with the meagre set-out of her table.  Tea time having arrived, Lady Swiggs is invited down to a cup by a pert Irish servant, who accosts her with an independence she by no means approves.  Entering the room with an air of stateliness she deems necessary to the position she desires to maintain, Sister Scudder takes her by the hand and introduces her to a bevy of nicely-conditioned, and sleek-looking gentlemen, whose exactly-combed mutton chop whiskers, smoothly-oiled hair, perfectly-tied white cravats, cloth so modest and fashionable, and mild, studious countenances, discover their profession.  Sister Scudder, motioning Lady Swiggs aside, whispers in her ear:  “They are all very excellent young men.  They will improve on acquaintance.  They are come up for the clergy.”  They, in turn, receive the distinguished stranger in a manner that is rather abrupt than cold, and ere she has dispensed her stately courtesy, say:  “how do you do marm,” and turn to resume with one another their conversation on the wicked world.  It is somewhat curious to see how much more interested these gentry become in the wicked world when it is afar off.

Tea very weak, butter very strong, toast very thin, and religious conversation extremely thick, make up the repast.  There is no want of appetite.  Indeed one might, under different circumstances, have imagined Sister Scudder’s clerical boarders contesting a race for an extra slice of her very thin toast.  Not the least prominent among Sister Scudder’s boarders is Brother Singleton Spyke, whom Mrs. Swiggs recognizes by the many compliments he lavishes upon Sister Slocum, whose absence is a source of great regret with him.  She is always elbow deep in some laudable pursuit.  Her presence sheds a radiant light over everything around; everybody mourns her when absent.  Nevertheless, there is some satisfaction in knowing that her absence is caused by her anxiety to promote some mission of good:  Brother Spyke thus muses.  Seeing that there is come among them a distinguished stranger, he gives out that to-morrow evening there will be a gathering of the brethren at the “House of the Foreign Missions,” when the very important subject of funds necessary to his mission to Antioch, will be discussed.  Brother Spyke, having levelled this battery at the susceptibility of Mrs. Swiggs, is delighted to find some fourteen voices chiming in-all complimenting his peculiar fitness for, and the worthy object of the mission.  Mrs. Swiggs sets her cup in her saucer, and in a becoming manner, to the great joy of all present, commences an eulogium on Mr. Spyke.  Sister Slocum, in her letters, held him before her in strong