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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"Tales of a Traveller"

By degrees it increased. A tittering
broke out there; and glances were cast round at me, and then there
would be fresh tittering. Some of the young ladies would hurry away to
distant parts of the room, and whisper to their friends; wherever they
went there was still this tittering and glancing at me. I did not know
what to make of all this. I looked at myself from head to foot; and
peeped at my back in a glass, to see if any thing was odd about my
person; any awkward exposure; any whimsical tag hanging out--no--every
thing was right. I was a perfect picture.
I determined that it must be some choice saying of mine, that was
handled about in this knot of merry beauties, and I determined to enjoy
one of my good things in the rebound.
I stepped gently, therefore, up the room, smiling at every one as I
passed, who I must say all smiled and tittered in return. I approached
the group, smirking and perking my chin, like a man who is full of
pleasant feeling, and sure of being well received. The cluster of
little belles opened as I advanced.
Heavens and earth! whom should I perceive in the midst of them, but my
early and tormenting flame, the everlasting Sacharissa! She was grown
up, it is true, into the full beauty of womanhood, but showed by the
provoking merriment of her countenance, that she perfectly recollected
me, and the ridiculous flagellations of which she had twice been the
cause.
I saw at once the exterminating cloud of ridicule that was bursting
over me.


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