The Potiphar Papers

POTIPHAR TO MISS

ORK,

de of Mrs. Croesus, who fancied hers would be the only stylish hat in church the first Sunday. She could not keep her eyes away from me, and I sat so unmoved, and so calmly looking at the Doctor, that she was quite vexed. But, whenever she turned aw

on the Doctor gave us. By the by, did you know that Mrs. Gnu had actually bought the blue velvet? It's too bad, because I wanted to cover my prayer-book with blue, and she sits s

help catching her by her mantle and holding on w

de after the Empress's. If you would like to have yours made over in

said she, "Lawson won

roesus, who has all her own things made at home, I don't feel as if mine came from Paris at all. She has such a way of looking at you, that it's quite dreadful. She seems to be saying in

us in church (I wonder who they are; it's very unpleasant to sit next to people you don't know; and, positively, that girl, the dark-haired one with large eyes, carries the same muff she did last year; it's big enough for a family) have a kind of brown morocco binding. I must tell you one reason why I fixed upon the pale-blue. You know that aristocratic-looking young man, in white cravat and black pantaloons and waistcoat, whom we saw at Saratoga a year ago, and who always had such a beautiful sanctimonious look, and such small white hands; well, he is a minister

te, and I've no idea of being tied to

earest, tell me, upon your honor, if you h

phar. "Perhaps Mr. Cheese finds gas too bright for

r, "please not to meddle with things you don't understand. You may have Cream Cheese

in about lunch-time, and I asked

said he, "wh

I had heard he was so

t a glass of Mr. P.'s best old port, and holding the decanter in one hand, and the

lips so gently with his cambric handkerchief (I saw that it was a hem-stitch), that I had no voice to ask him to take a bit of the cold chicken, which he did, however, withou

advise me to have my prayer-book bound, he talked beautifully for about twenty minutes. I wish you could have heard him. I'm not sure that I understood much of what he said-how should I?-but it was very beautiful. Don't laugh, Carrie, but there was one thing I did understand, and which, as it came pretty often, quite helped me through: it was, "Dear Mrs. Potiphar;" you can't tell how nicely he says it. He began by telling me that it was very important to consider all t

nes usually falls across your pew, I would advise that you cymbalize your faith (wouldn't that be noisy in church?) by bin

es his voice too loud, and he has such wavy gestures. Mr. Potiphar says that may be all very true, but he knows perfectly well that he has a hankering for artificial flowers, and that, for his part, he prefers the Doctor to any preacher he ever heard "because," he says, "I can go quietly to sleep, confident that he

much-but did he ever have anyt

ay. Of course I didn't wish to do anything secret from my husband, that might make people talk, so I wrote-"Rev. Cream Cheese; from his grateful Skim-milk." I marked

when the Doctor (as Mr. P. says) "blows up" those terrible sinners in Babylon and the other Bible towns, I always find the Rev. Cream's eyes fixed upon me, with so much sweet sadness, that I am very, very sorry for the naughty people the Doctor talks about. Why did they do so, do you suppose, dear Caroline? How thankful we ought to be that we live now with so many churches, and such fine ones, and with such gentlemanly ministers as Mr. Cheese. And how nicely it's arranged that, after dancing and dining for two or three months constantly, during which, of course, we can only go to church Sundays, there comes a time for stopping, when we're tired out, and for going to church every day, and (as Mr. P. says) "striking a balance;" a

ight have been good, and all have been happy. It's quite awful to hear how eloquent and earnest the Doctor is when he preaches against Babylon. Mr. P. says he likes to have him "pitch into those old sinners; it does 'em so much good;" and then he looks quite fierce. Mr. Cheese is going to read me a sermon he has written upon the maidenhood o

about you; and when I told him what a dear, good girl you are,

ed, and said that he could never marry an heiress unless he c

better, when you've been dancing all the week, and dining, and going to the opera, and flirting and flying around, to go to church on Sundays? I do. It seems, somehow, as if we ought to go. But I do wish Mrs. Croesus would sit somew

raping it clean for breakfast. The other spoiled carpet was in the gentlemen's dressing-room where the punch-bowl was. Young Gauche Boosey, a very gentlemanly fellow, you know, ran up after polking, and was so confused with the light and heat that he went quite unsteadily, and as he was trying to fill a glass with the silver ladle (which is rather heavy), he somehow leaned too hard upon the table, and down went the whole thing, table, bowl, punch, and Boosey, and ended my poor carpet.

ch a punch it will want s

e idea about lemon a

down, and finishing the dance just as he was. The funny fellow brushed against all the d

lemon-choly for

d he would do no such thing; and I have no doubt we should have had a scene, if Mr. P. had not marched him straight to

invite Boosey nor "any of his kind," as he calls them, to our house. However, I think it will pass over. I tell

om wine is an agreeable thing. There's your friend Mrs. Croesus (he thinks she's my friend, because we call each other 'dear'!); she is delighted to be a fashionable woman, and to be described as the 'peerless and accomplished Mrs. Croesus' in letters from the Watering-places to the Herald; but I tell you, if any

your parties; he goes off to sup with Gauche Boosey; you and Mrs. Croesus think them young men of spirit,-it is an exhilarating case of sowing wildcats, you fancy,-and, when, at twenty-five, Timon Croesus stands ruined in the world, without aims or capacities, without the esteem of a single man or his own self-respect-youth, health, hope, and energy, all go

But I think he exaggerates these things: and as he had a very dear friend that went worse and worse, until he

ys, you don't want to break their spirits

h to Mr. P., he said to me

child of his to the utmost of the influence he can exert, whether he chooses to consider himself so or not; and if not now, in thi

we say "preaching," without referring to any particular sermon. However, he grants that young Timon is an extreme case: but, he says, it is th

ssed me on the forehead (although my hair was all dressed for Mrs. Gnu's dinner), and went out of the house. He hasn't said much to me since, but he speaks very g

the waiter. That was all, I believe-oh! except that fine "Dresden Gallery," the most splendid book I ever saw, full of engravings of the great pictures in Dresden, Vienna, and the other Italian towns, and which was sent to Mr. P. by an old friend, an artist, whom he had helped along when he was very poor. Somebody unfortunately tipped over a bottle of claret that stood upon the table, (I am sure I don't know how it got there, though Mr. P. says Gauche Boosey knows,) and it lay soaking into the book, so that almos

a pretty

re getting very spir

fell as she was dancing with Gauche Boosey; but he may have been a little excited, you know, and she, poor girl, couldn't help tumbling, and as her head hit the glass, of course, it broke, and cut her head badly, so that the blood ran down and naturally spoiled her dress; and what little escritoire could stand against Flattie Podge? So that went, and was a g

k of

us, who wasn't very generous. But they all said they hadn't found any diamond: and our man John, who you know is so guileless,-although it was a little mysterious about that emerald pin of mine,-brought me a bit of g

t so sure about Mrs

d by six o'clock, and he need have no trouble about replacing the curtains, and glass, etc.

n o'clock that morning, when I retired. H

d he, "that'

I. - "Last ball at

expense; for a gang of rowdy boys, who drink my Margaux, and Lafitte, and Marcobrunner, (what kind of drinks are those, dear Caroline?) and who don't know Chambertin from liquorice-water,-for a swarm o

are you going to let your wife receive them in a manner inferior to old Mrs. Podge or Mrs. Croesus? People will accuse you of meanness, and of treating me ill; and if some

Mrs. Croesus told me she had said to he

rtently drops out of the best regulated mouths, as young Gooseberry Downe says when he

some. But everybody agreed it was a beautiful ball; and I had the great gratification of hearing young Lord Mount Ague (you know you danced with him, love) say that it was quite the same thing as a ball at Buckingham Palace, except, of course, in size, and the number of persons, and dresses, and jewels, and the

taggers, who said that "Decidedl

"What a sympathetic man: that is, for a military man, I mean. Would you believe, dea

, dearest, pe

talks, I asked Mr. Cheese what he thought of balls, whether it was so very wicked to dance, and go to parties, if one only went to church twice a day

orded in Holy Scripture that t

appen, I don't believe he wou

ou remember when you were here, I said that I meant to have a livery, for my sister Margaret told me that when they used to driv

and are hereditary, so to say, it is convenient and pleasant to recognize a coat-of-arms,

Lord Mammon used to say as the carriages whirled by. He knew none of them personally, I believe,

lors, and the Brown colors, and the Black colors, and the Potiphar colors

d know which of the Smiths was able to keep a carriage, so that the livery would be recognized directly the moment that any of the family were seen in a carriage. Upon which he said, in his provoking way, "Why hav

nd aristocratic," said I, "and it

c, or, in fact, anybody else;-went over his eternal old talk about aping foreign habits, as if we hadn't a right to adopt the good usages of all nations, and finally sai

ot an American serva

work quite as necessary and well done. But, for all that, it is not so respected nor coveted a situation, I believe; and, in social estimation, a man suffers by wearing a livery, as he never would if he wore none. And while in countries in which a man is proud of being a servant (as every man may well be of being a good one), and never looks to anything else, nor desires any change, a livery may be very proper to the

s and American families might have liveries;-that there was an end of it, and I meant to have one. Besides if it is a matter of family, I should like to know who has a bett

he puts th

ily tree," as Staggers says, and finds that I am lineally descended from one of those two brothers who came over in some of those old times, in some of those old ships, and settled in some o

behind, I tell you. Mr. P. ought to remember that a great many of these families were famous before they came to this country; and there is a kind of interest in having on you

terest and curiosity to myself, for I'm sure I shouldn't understand it. Do you suppose Mrs. Gnu knows what gules argent are? A man may be as proud of his family as he chooses, and, if he has noble ancestors, with good reason. But there is no sense in parading that pride. It is an affectation, the more foolish that it achieves nothing-no more credit at Stewart's-no more real respect in society. Besides, Polly, who were Mrs. Gnu's ancestors, or Mrs. Croesus's, or Mrs. Settum Downe's? Good, quiet, honest, and humble people, who

n he had finished that long speech, during which I was

o you think I'

ression, and went out suddenly, as if

ely gone bef

the sight of you is refr

things so softly. But I said good morning

(it was the most snowy lawn, Car

livery, dear

t Mr. P. calls the "language of artificial flowers," and wo

and cloths, and gaiters, and buttons, and knee-breeches, and waistcoats, and plush, and coats, and lace, and hatbands, and gloves, and cravats, and cords, and tassels, and hats. Oh! it was delig

kind of French dish

but we haven't a

but you could hi

trument-a Panharmonicon, or something o

ery, very f

e carriage, his plumes waving in the wind, and his lace and pol

especially upon the Continent, as Margaret tells me, and who in Paris are very useful to keep th

that, so I asked Mr. Cheese not to k

ave only one full-sized f

Mrs. Settum Downe's coachman doesn't weigh more than a hundred and thirty pounds, which is ridiculous. A lady might as well hire a footman with insufficient calves, as a coachman who weighs less than two hundred and ten. That is the minimum. Besides, I don't observe any wigs upon the coachmen. Now, if a lady sets up her carriage with the family crest and fine liveries, why, I s

come out with the wig-I mean upon the coachman; it would so put down the Settum Downes. But I'm sure old Pot wouldn't have

r an expression of my carnal days about 'coming it too

low waistcoat, with large buttons-lappels to the pockets-and a purple coat, very full and fine, bound with gold lace-and the hat banded with a full

am not sure that he would be so very hard upon the wig. The next morning I had appointed to see

I ans

es. You know that everything in the mat

ently to himself, with-actua

ne but well-developed calves need apply, at least it is so in England, and, if I have a livery, I am not going to stop half-way. My duty was very cle

. It is often thickly strewn with thorns," said he, as he sank

ed. I assure you, although it is ridiculous, I fel

I am glad yo

, my name is H

y-"James, the name of my footman is always James. You may c

ndertaking to arrange m

quite satisfied. But there was the terrible calf business that mu

s!"-and the

a'am,"

ah!"-and I s

a'am,"

you had come in

id he in gr

"What be they, ma'am? what for, ma'am?" s

ng, nothin

'am," sa

I want to

'am?" sa

him what I meant, and all about the liveries, etc. Dear me! what a pity these things are not understood: and then w

t on those things and make a fool of myself. I hope yo

t him well, but that my James must wear my livery. He looked very sorry, said that he should like the place very much,-that he was satisfied with the wages, and was sure that he should please m

Croesus goes about saying, "Dear little woman, that Mrs. Potiphar, but so weak! Pity, pity!" And Mrs. Settum Downe says, "Is that the Potiphar livery? Ah, yes, Mr. Potiphar's grandfather used to shoe my grandfather's horses!"-(as if to be useful in the world, were a disgrace,-as Mr. P. says) and young Downe, and Boosey, and Timon Croesus come up and stand about so gentlemanly, and say, "Well Mr

, dear, isn

you know, as I say, that sometimes I hear an old familiar tune played upon a hand-organ far away in some street, and it seems to me in that half-drowsy state under the laces, that I hear the girls and boys singing it in the fields where we used to play. It is a kind of dream, I suppose, but often, as I listen, I am sure that I hear Henry's voice again that used to ring so gayly among the old trees, and I walk with him in the sunlight to the bank by the river, and he throws in the flower-as he r

s earnest persuasion; and after service he smiles upon me kindly, and says, "This is my wife, and the wife, who looks like the Madonna in that picture of Andrea Del Sarto's, which you liked so at th

rning. He comes home to dinner, but he is apt to be silent; and after dinner he takes his nap in the parlor over his newspaper, while I go up and let Adele dress my hair for the evening. Sometimes Mr. P. groans into a clean shirt and goes with me to the ball; but not often. When I come home, as I said, he is asleep, so I don't see a great deal of him, excep

he effect would be fine, when we were dancing, to shower the gold mist around us! How it would sparkle upon the gentlemen's black coats! ("Yes," says Mr. P., "and how finely Gauche Boosey, and Timon Croesus, and young Downe will look in si

iphar, I never asked but one utterly absurd question

e a thousand things to say, but

ly y

POTI

, the nurse, tells me through the keyhole how he is. Mr. P. sleeps in the room next the nursery, so as not to carry the infection to me. He look

't it funny a