softly and gently purr upon their mates. Miss Sourkrout was a very susceptible young damsel; and if she still remained in a state of celibacy, it was not for want of good will to the opposite condition.—She had often shot the rays of love from her azure-coloured orbs, but they had not reached the destined marks. Perhaps, indeed, this might be owing to their oblique direction; for it often happened, that when she intended to direct the artillery of her charms to the front, its force was spent beyond the right or the left wing.
Miss Sourkrout had no sooner beheld the manly and graceful Hamilton, than she was captivated. She immediately betook herself to ogling, an art in which if she was not perfect, it was not for want of practice. Planting her batteries opposite to him, she forgot that the movements of her gunnery were more curvilineal than suited her purpose, and
