the two forefingers of my other to the artery. -

- Would to heaven! my dear Eugenius, thou hadst passed by, and
beheld me sitting in my black coat, and in my lack-a-day-sical
manner, counting the throbs of it, one by one, with as much true
devotion as if I had been watching the critical ebb or flow of her
fever.--How wouldst thou have laugh'd and moralized upon my new
profession!--and thou shouldst have laugh'd and moralized on.--
Trust me, my dear Eugenius, I should have said, "There are worse
occupations in this world THAN FEELING A WOMAN'S PULSE."--But a
grisette's! thou wouldst have said,--and in an open shop! Yorick -

- So much the better: for when my views are direct, Eugenius, I
care not if all the world saw me feel it.


THE HUSBAND. PARIS.


I had counted twenty pulsations, and was going on fast towards the
fortieth, when her husband, coming unexpected from a back parlour
into the shop, put me a little out of my reckoning.--'Twas nobody
but her husband, she said;--so I began a fresh score.--Monsieur is
so good, quoth she, as he pass'd by us, as to give himself the
trouble of feeling my pulse.--The husband took off his hat, and
making me a bow, said, I did him too much honour--and having said
that, he put on his hat and walk'd out.

Good God! said I to myself, as he went out,--and can this man be
the husband of this woman!