JONATHAN AND HIS BRIDE.

At one of our fashionable hotels the other day, among the arrivals was one of the genus verdant – a regular no mistake Jonathan – with eyes wide open at the novelties he met at every turn. He had brought along with him his “better half” – a strapping lass bedecked with a profusion of ribbons and cheap jewelry; they had evidently “come down to Boston” to spend the honey-moon, and no doubt “darned the expense.”

The first morning after their arrival the servants were thrown into hystericks by a verdant mistake; Jonathan’s bell rung furiously and he demanded to see the landlord. The functionary having made his appearance, he was hailed with, -

“How are ye, how do you do old feller? Me and Patience finds all right here – room fixed up first rate – gives a feller a high fashioned feeling; but I say old hoss, we want a wash bowl and towel to take off the dust outside, then we’ll come down and take a little New England with ye.”

“Here are all the conveniences for washing, sir,” said the landlord, stepping to a mahogany wash-sink and raising the lid. “Gosh all Potomac!” exclaimed the Yankee, “who’d ever thought of that ‘ere table’s open on top that way.”

Nothing further occurred until the hour for breakfast, when the verdant couple were seated at the table; and Jonathan having burned his throat by drinking his coffee too hot, and attempting to help himself to an omelette with his fingers, finally had his attention to some fish bails, which are, as everybody knows, fish and potatoes minced together, as large as an ordinary apple, and cooked brown. Having procured the dish that contained them by means of a servant, he helped himself and partner to one, each grasping the fatal morsel in hand, Jonathan opening his capacious jaws, took a bite from his, when suddenly he disgorged the morsel with an expression of much disappointment, and turning to his bride, exclaimed: “I swow, Patience, these doughnuts are nothin’ but cod-fish and taters.”