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HIGHLY proper, and pious, and thoroughly unexceptionable person is our worthy friend, Mrs. Rueful—but oh! the depressing influence of her presence! Unquestionably she must carry an invisible supply of "low spirits" bottled up and stored in her reticule! The cork is extracted by the first word she utters, and the "blue demons" escape, and complacently light down upon her neighbors' hearts, and grow heavier and heavier, where they sit, until content, and hope, and mirth, are crushed out by their incubus-like weight. Nor do the impish band take their leave when she departs; once introduced they are apt to haunt the new abode until it becomes a familiar resting-place.

Well may one dread the visitations of good Mrs. Rueful, who leaves such enemies to peace behind her! She glides into your home with tread so light that you think, perforce, upon noiseless footfalls in the chambers of sickness and sorrow. The steady gloom of her countenance reminds you of an autumn sky, when the clouds thicken and darken