SAYINGS AND DOINGS, AT THE TREMONT HOUSE. CONVERSATION THE FIRST. Come listen to a dialogue,· A dialogue between A soldier out of livery, And a gentleman in green! MS. ballad by Z. P. V. SAYINGS AND DOINGS AT THE TREMONT HOUSE. First impressions, and loose thoughts, in deshabille. Z. P. V. SCENE I.-BOSTON. A ROOM IN THE TREMONT HOUSE. [No.97.] "Come on, come on," an early stirrer, d'ye call yourself, and still under the bed-clothes? WALSINGHAM (yawning.) Haugh! What bell is that? Can it be nine o'clock? Yes WARING. past nine. Oh, shame! Our chambermaid will put us down in her books, for two of the sleepiest varlets that ever came from the land, where people are "boiled to death with melancholy." WALSINGHAM. "There is at this time," says the Quarterly Reviewer, "a weaver Pshaw! Get up. WARING. WALSINGHAM. "A weaver in the city of Norwich, who takes his place at the loom during the summer months, at five in the morning, and yet rises two hours earlier for the pleasure of cultivating a flower-garden." I would do the same thing, if I had a flower-garden to cultivate. I dreamed a dream last night WARING. Never mind your dream. Get up. WALSINGHAM. I dreamt that, (like Sir Harry Gosdricke,) I had eighty couples of hounds in my kennel, and fortyfour hunters in my stable. I dreamt that I had our friend, BARTHOLOMEW Nicks, for a whipper-in!—I dreamt— WARING. Poh! Get up, or you 66 will lose your breakfast. WALSINGHAM. دو A figo for my breakfast! "The fig of Spain! About this hour, four years ago, I was walking over the Simplon. Stap my vitals!" what a breakfast did I eat, on that blessed morning! My companion, the parson, too, ate as if he had a double row of teeth in either gum. You, surely, must be mistaken, it can't be nine yet -I did not hear the gong sound for breakfast. Waring. But I did, a long time ago. 7 That song deserves a place in Grigg's Southern and Western Songster. Will you be good enough to hand me those slippers? Oh, dear-I wish somebody would give us a book, called the "Art of dressing made easy." I fear I am getting fat-brained. WARING. FENWICK is just the person to write such a book. He is one of the very best dressed men I ever saw; yet he says, he is never more than ten minutes at his toilet, shaving included! WALSINGHAM. Wonderful! "He is simply, the most active gentleman of England." I am thinking he must have been a seven-months' child, - Before his time, on every occasion. By the way, what is he doing in America? Do you know? WARING. Catching trout, shooting wood-cocks — and travelling to see the country. He says, he came over principally, to see how bears are slaughtered; that he might know how to go to work with some of the European Bruins. He falls in love once a week, and thinks it not at all improbable that he may turn Benedict, and settle in the back-woods. But first, he intends to taste the air of Nova Scotia. His fancy is like a coach-wheel in mo-now, sending up mud now, dust- now tion Bagshot diamonds. WALSINGHAM. Bagshot diamonds! Cockney-land forever. But, soberly, as the lady says in the play,- FENWICK must |