Western Member of Congress, and a grass widower.

This girl of the period, whose saucy black eyes bear down on you like a
twenty-four gun frigate; looking as it were through you, and counting
the hairs on the back of your neck, is Miss BELINDA LADLE, daughter of
the deceased TIMOTHY, and step-daughter to the hostess who was TIM'S
second matrimonial venture, you understand.

This young woman mounts a lager-beer cask, and stops the buzz of
conversation by bringing her mallet down with a smart rap upon the head
of the nearest bald-headed gentleman.

"Attention, company," said she--"Stand up straight, and look as well as
you can.--_Take_--mallets."

While the guests are boisterously laughing, with that rare appreciation
of refined humor peculiar to the West, Mrs. LADLE, the proper, attempts
an indignant remonstrance, but is interrupted by the Hon. MICHAEL.

"Oh, let the little gal have her tantrums, sister-in-law," said he.
"Mebbe _you_ was young once, though nobody now living could swear to
it."

"Come," interrupted BELINDA, "we've had gassin' enough. Choose your
partners. Mildewed age, before infantile beauty. Mother-in-law, go in."

The extremely respectable and highly dignified female last alluded to
shook her fist at BELINDA on the sly, and said:

"I'll take ANN BRUMMET."