CHRISTMAS SHOPPING.

SCENE: A Boston Bookstore.

(Two country visitors anxious to be waited on.)

1st C. V. - My stars! What a store this is! Don't have nothin' like this ter hum.

2d C. V. - Wal, this does beat all! How Jane would like to set eyes on this. I never see so many books together in all my born days. Where do ye suppose they come from?

1st C. V. - Must be manerfactered; can't be did in no other way. I'll be durned if here ain't a book by Enoch Arden. Who'd ever s'pose that Enoch would have took to writin'? but he always was uncommon smart at school. Figer! I never see a boy figer the way he could. Addishun and substracshun was nothin' to him, and as for gogaphy he could tell every cape from Cod to Hatteras in no time. But 't is surprisin' how he got to writin', ain't it?

2d C. V. - We'll jest questhin the boss when he comes 'long. But gosh! look at that picter of a hoss up there: he's a fine-looking critter, ain't he? Speaking of hosses, you know that old un I had last year: he was a good puller, but unsound from the end of his nose to the tip of his tail. He was spavined and hed the heaves, but I'll be blamed if I did n't sell him for a clean hunded and a watch ter boot to a city fellah who thought he was powerful cute; and if I did n't jest lay over him, my name ain't Jaunty Tucker. Hoss died on his hands two months after I sold him.

1st C. V. - Talkin' of city fellahs, I never see enybody droive so thunderin' fast as them. Why, I'm durned, if I did n't come nigh to havin' a hoss killed by 'em. I let 'em have him to go gunnin', and when that ere hoss got back he could scercely walk for lickin'. Drinkin', I s'pose, done it. I went to 'em and made 'em fork out fifteen dollars damage, and that did n't more than make me square. But, say; have you seed my sheep? Best lot in teown.

2d C. V. - No; but I'll bet you ain't heard of that bitin' lamb some of them farmers 'round New Haven 's got. They say he's a teaser; bite right thro' a man's coat and think nothin' 't all of it. Barnum's trying to git him, and if his circus comes our way, I'm goin' to see that ere lamb or bust. Here comes that cussed slow clerk.

Polite Clerk. - Can I do anything for you, gentlemen?

1st C. V. - Where's this Enoch Arden hail from?

P. C. - That is a poem by Tennyson.

2d C. V. to 1st C. V. - Calep, what makes you show your ig'nance? (Turning to polite clerk.) Do you keep picter books? Want suthin' for a young un of six.

P. C. - Here is a very pretty illustrated storybook.

2d C. V. - What's the price? $2.00, you say. Notion store down our way sell 'em cheaper than that.

P. C. - Here is something a little less expensive.

2d C. V. (looking at book last shown him). - That hen in this picter looks just like that one of Ephrim's that lays 12 eggs a week. I don't b'lieve that there is airy hen in Bosting that can beat her fer layin'. If you're ever down in our part of the kentry, Mr. Clerk, just step in and see me. I'll show her to you; it wud be worth your trouble. I'll take the book jest on that account.

P. C. - Here is your book. A dollar and a half, please.

2d C. V. - I vum, that's high; but I said I'd take it, and I will. (Goes out with his companion, muttering to himself.) That is the wust of these city folks; they have purty things, but they do charge.