benediction.

"Is there anything wrong, dear James?" inquired my mother, in her
usual quiet and timid tone.

"Wrong!" thundered my father; "Frank will read this spiritual
production to you. Every line breathes a deep anxiety on old
Kitty's part for my soul's welfare, earthly considerations being
non-important. Read, Frank, and if you will not devoutly wish that the
doting fool was at the dev--"

"Stop, my dear James."

"Well-read, Frank, and say, when you hear the contents, whether you
would be particularly sorry to learn that the old lady had, as sailors
say, her hands well greased, and a fast hold upon the moon? Read,
d----n it, man! there's no trouble in deciphering my aunt Catharine's
penmanship. Hers is not what Tony Lumpkin complained of--a cursed
cramp hand; all clear and unmistakable--the _t_'s accurately stroked
across, and the _i_'s dotted to a nicety. Go on--read, man, read."

I obeyed the order, and thus ran the missive, my honored father adding
a running commentary at every important passage; shall place them in
italics--

"'MY DEAR NEPHEW,'"

"_Oh, ---- her affection!_"

"'If, by a merciful dispensation, I shall be permitted to have a few