my eyes, and extinguishing me for the time being. As if the night were
not dark enough without!

My friends, I could go on much longer with my complaints, but I feel
that I have drawn upon your sympathies sufficiently for the
present. You will be as glad to leave me at my own house-door, as I am
to find it.




MISERIES.

No. 3.

TWINE.


Under the general head of _string_, I might enumerate a long list of
this world's miseries. Shoe-strings alone comprehend an amount of
wretchedness, which is but feebly described in the tragical story of
Jemmy String. Bonnet-strings and apron-strings, dickey-strings and
watch-guards, curtain-cord, bed-cord, and cod-line, each and all have
furnished enough discomfort to make out a long grumbling article. But
I cannot linger to describe their treacherous desertions when their
services are most needed, their unexpected weakness, and their
obstinate entanglements when time presses. A certain pudding-bag
string is commemorated in one of the beautiful couplets of Mother
Goose's Melodies. I am sure you cannot have forgotten it, nor the
staring spotted cat that is there represented racing away with her