"Wer immer lächeln kann, der ist gewiss ein schalk." A LITTLE, soft-headed, bald-headed old man, whose face was wrinkled, and as full of fine lines as a cobweb, induced by the continual twitchings and grimace of forced facetiousness, was detailing, with an accompaniment of appropriate pantomime, some very reverend "Joe Millers;" so grey, indeed, that had not the narrator dyed them with the preparation of his own invention they would inevitably have been recognised on the first introduction, and died purely of old age. Like the antiquarian traveller in Egypt, all his subjects seemed drawn from the pyramids! Now wine and wit differ in this respect, that the age which improves the one infallibly destroys the other. Mungs, however, had neither nous nor gumption enough to make this discovery, and the consequence was, that he frequently bored his indulgent auditors with a "twice told tale." Woe to the polite stranger who lent him his ears, for he had no mercy upon his victim, but kept poking his fun at him the whole evening, while he, mentally blind as a mole, fancied that he had been doing the amiable. But, remarkable as the jocose gesticulator was, his auditor was still more so. He was a fat, ungainly youth, about five-and-twenty; of a slouching and slovenly appearance, with a round, unmeaning visage. His little sharp grey eyes alone could boast of any definite expression, which to a close observer of the human face divine conveyed a meaning both sly and sinister. At every point and poke of his untiring friend, however, his insipid physiognomy assumed a grin more flattering than beautiful; it was, in fact, a sort of human mirror, which truthfully reflected every verbose expression of the other's fun. However sharp the infliction might be, he seemed resolved, like a martyr, "to grin and bear it." He said nothing, for he was one of those taciturn receivers of other men's retorts who appear invariably to shelter themselves and their opacity of intellect, under the maxim that a silent tongue maketh a wise head, and he obtained the character of being a very clever youth by dint of being a smiling listener; for although he could not set the table in a roar, he could command the ready smile and dental developing grin to admiration ; but he had, at least, the merit of giving the first impetus to a round of applause, having, in fact, about as much pretension to facetiousness and good humour as the key has to be a watch; for he only "wound them up," and set them going. Besides that eternal smile which rendered him so great a favourite with the whole tribe of bores, there was an exciting rumour abroad that Mr. Hyena Smirke had great- very great expectations, which made a wonderful diversion in his favour among a certain class of dowagers who had daughters to be disposed of. Some of the latter were so dazzled by his prospects that they actually went so far as to declare that Smirke was good-looking (an extraordinary fib!) the fruit of their blind idolatry of Mammon, for there was not a single feature in his flat physiognomy that could possibly give a countenance to such a flattering assertion. There was certainly a probability of his inheriting a large fortune, but there was a contingency, and that was neither more nor less than the uncertain favour of an eccentric uncle, a shrewd man in moneymatters, and a very stupid one in all others. He had also a rival in the person of a clever, good-hearted, careless cousin ; a gay youth, who was more fond of company than cash, which unworldly predilection, it is probable, arose principally from his more intimate acquaintance with the former than the latter. Unfortunately for his prospects, the only company in which he was dull was that of his uncle, for of all prosers old Septimus Smirke was a concentrated essence, and Master Arthur certainly made considerable lee-way in the favour of his uncle by interrupting him in one of his best stories with the startling information that he had told it at least three times before to the same party. This was very rude, and can only be excused in consideration of the provocation, for the opening of the old man's budget was at all times a sore infliction, and the repetition of any single dose was consequently intolerable, except, indeed, to Hyena Smirke, who invariably endured the torture with the equanimity of an Indian warrior. Herein consisted the advantage he enjoyed over his hare-brained cousin. Yet Hyena was neither an amiable nor a good-humoured man, for he was really one of those who can smile, and murder while they smile,—and far from entertaining the slightest regard for his opulent relative, coolly calculated that every day that he continued to cumber the earth he was depriving him, his lawful heir, of a certain portion of enjoyment. An old gentleman who witnessed the rebuff which Arthur had so imprudently given his uncle, and who was really a sincere friend, took him to task for his impertinence. "My dear sir," said Arthur, "I thank you heartily for your advice, and confess my error. My uncle is a very worthy, honest man; but he must not so far presume on his wealth as to become a bore; alone I can endure pretty patiently his most threadbare narratives; but I have too much respect for him to allow others to yawn or laugh in his face; as his relation I feel my pride hurt. As for his money, a fig for it! he has done me many a kindness, much more, indeed, than such a reckless, good-for-nothing nephew deserves. I hope he will live long to enjoy the honey he has hived. You know I am not one to hunt after dead men's shoes, and I esteem him too much to flatter him. I admire his good qualities, but I will not join in the laugh at his follies. The other day I related to him a tale of distress—a widow left with an only son, the husband died in debt, and told him a five-pound note would be of infinite service. Let them work,' said he, as I have done. I don't like people to be eating the bread of idleness.' "But he is charitable?" said his friend. "Listen," continued Arthur, his eyes glistening with pleasure. "What do you think the selfish old fellow did? Why, he actually sought out the widow, and, finding the story true, not only put the son apprentice to a first-rate tradesman, but furnished a little shop for the poor old woman. Would have the pleasure all to himself, and thinks I don't know it—but I do-and esteem him accordingly but he had no right to cheat me out of my share of the pleasure! Come, fill! - here's his jolly good health, and I'll take care no one shall have an opportunity of laughing at him in my presence, though I am compelled to tread on his tenderest corn to check him." Then the hopeful nephew tossed off his glass and departed, when Mr. Hyena Smirke was announced. He saluted the old gentleman with his usual grin. "Did you meet your cousin?" demanded the old gentleman. "Yes," replied Hyena; " and hasn't he put his foot in it? Quite offended uncle; bet a wager there was a new will made the following morning, the old fellow was so confoundedly popped-shouldn't wonder if he takes it to heart, and slips his cable. Doubly obliged to cousin Arthur, that's all! Treat the poor devil with a decent suit of mourning; that's the least I can do for the double obligation of offending my uncle, and putting out his brief candle. Ha! ha! ha!" and here Hyena laughed with most savage delight. "Excellent!" exclaimed the merry old gentleman. "But I really thought you enjoyed his stories? "Fudge! You could not be deluded? Well, I am certainly flattered in having deceived you. As for uncle, he's an old pump, and there's little merit in throwing dust in his eyes." The old gentleman cordially joined in the expression of the other's delight. "Take a bumper! Come, push about the bottle, and give us a toast," said he. "Well, then," said the loving nephew, "here's an Irish benediction,- Happy death to his honour! and may he soon take possession of his landed estate-of six feet by two!"" "Very good!" exclaimed the old gentleman, tossing off his glass. "Why, faith, Hyena, you 're quite a wit." Why, yes; I've a bit of the devil in me, eh?” "You certainly have," replied his companion slyly, at which the other laughed immoderately. "People think I'm a fool," continued Hyena; "but I know on which side my bread 's buttered." "I should think nunkey will cut up for a good round sum?” said the old gentleman. "Who doubts it?" replied Hyena. "He's as close as a poor-box. What a charity 'twill be to scatter his dibs!" "I am sure no one deserves it more than yourself; for the unwearied attention you pay him is extraordinary." "Is it not?" said Hyena. "But I do assure you my jaws ache amazingly sometimes with the force of grinning at his vapid nonsense; and I'm sure I've earned all I shall get." "By your sincerity ?" Nay, that costs no effort. It is the compulsion of appearing pleased when you are disgusted. That is a virtue that deserves reward." "Very good!" cried the old gentleman, in a rapture. "By Jove! you were born to be a diplomatist! " After finishing the bottle, Hyena shook hands with his very pleasant old friend, who was one of those extraordinary men endowed with a good constitution and a happy disposition, who never appear to meet the advances of Time, and are ever-green and youthful in their tastes and pursuits. No sooner had he bowed out the smiling and expectant heir than he bolted the door, and retreating to his chair, burst forth into such a peal of laughter that made the glasses ring again. Having somewhat expended his breath in this jubilant effort, he turned towards a closet in the room, and with the convulsions of his violent cachinnation still curling up the corners of his mouth, and half closing his eyes, he exclaimed, "Snail! snail! come out of your hole!" Slowly the door moved at his invitation, and forth peered the rotund countenance of no less a personage than-old Smirke! looking very flushed and conflabrigasticated. "Well?" cried the old gentleman. Old Smirke shook his head, and then thrusting the fore-finger of his right hand under his brown bob-wig, by which action he set it comically awry, and scratched over his ear as diligently as a cat is wont (according to our grannams) before a forthcoming shower-in him, however, plainly indicating perplexity, embarrassment, and vexation! Seating himself plump down in a chair exactly opposite his friend, he said, with a tone of determination that bore the stamp of truth, "Glanville, I'm a fool! — an ass!—yes, sir, an ass! Glanville extended his palms and bowed, as much as to say, "Have it your own way: I would not contradict you for the world."—" And this fellow this continued Smirke- Glanville, I haven't pa tience! " "Glad of it," replied Glanville. "You will no longer put up with the insufferable flattery of this grinning booby. Told you how it was-knew I was right." "I confess it," replied old Smirke. "The light breaks in upon me! I feel as if I had been blind all my days, and were just couched!" Couched, but not bed-ridden," exclaimed Glanville, laughing. No, not yet, thank heaven!" said old Smirke. "Glanville, I'll not quit this house till I've altered my will." "Having already changed your mind," said Glanville, laughing, "you know I always said, that although I never complained of your personal disposition, I protested against the injustice of the disposition of your property. And you have to thank me, old boy, for having made you uncomfortable; for I have shown you your errors; and it is only an old friend like myself that can venture upon such an experiment with impunity. But I rejoice in the deed-although I may lose a legacy." "You sha'nt," interrupted old Smirke. "I won't have it," cried Glanville. "I hate duplicity!' * Three years and nine months after this strange eventful history old Smirke died! A host of expectant relatives swarmed from all parts, and crowded the gloomy mansion, wishing to pay the last tribute of respect to their dear and much-lamented kinsman! Hyena was there—an important smile, dashed with an expression of sorrow, flickered over his countenance like a ray of diluted moonlight, as he officiously did the honours of the house, as if he were already in possession of the long-coveted wealth of his uncle. He regarded his cousin Arthur with a look of mingled contempt and pity; but still he smiled, for long custom had rendered his muscles incapable of any other expression. The funeral over, Glanville, the oldest friend and executor of the deceased opened the will. What a moment of intense anxiety! With the exception of a few trifling legacies, and considerable bequests to charitable institutions, which Hyena felt as so many deductions from his purse, the whole of the real and personal property of the deceased was bequeathed to his nephew Arthur! Did Hyena smile? No: reader, he laughed—on the wrong side of his mouth! ALFRED CROWQUILL. SILENT LOVE. BY SIMON DACH.* WHAT IS Love's sweetest, truest bliss? • Born 1605, at Memel-died 1659. |