40 MRS. FIZZLEBURY'S NEW GIu. it was not; a little, fluffy affair; nothing to speak of in society, though probably what is vulgarly called a "big thing" in the Custom House.) "You will have that taken off, Parkin; it doesn't amount to any thing. And, after all, it will only be a masquerade of an hour at the utmost. There is nothing in it. I would do it myself if I were not known to Mr. Fizzlebury, and—" In short, we overruled Parkin's objections by loud talking, and, refusing to listen to his excuses, we expatiated largely on the proof which he was about to render of his friendly devotion to Pott- hausen, whieh we greatly applauded. I shaved him carefully, if not so closely as an expert might have done, after whieh solemn per'ormance we dined sumptuously, at Pott's expense and in his apartment» The hired eoslume arrived at half- past four, and by five o'clock we had Parkin ele- gantly rigged out in servant's costume, with a red wig and an old bonnet on him; making up for him the indispensable " bundle," composed of bis waistcoat and trousers, enveloped in two copies of the New York Herald, after transferring his watch and money to the pockets of the cotton gown now upon his person. Pott and I then did our best to put Parkin through his paces, which were much too ener- getic for his costume, and to drill him in the tac- tics becoming his assumed position. Our greatest difficulty was in the proper toning down of his voice to the feminine key. He invariably began very well, in a fine falsetto, the sentences pre- scribed for repetition in our improvised rehearsal; but before he finished a phrase his voice would lapse again into the hoarse gruffness of a Custom House official replying to troublesome inquiries from a member of the stupid, importunate public. However, we had him drilled and fairly ready for our enterprise by about half-past four o'clock, at which hour we endeavored to start him on his friendly mission. But all our persuasion failed to prevail on Parkin to go out into the street, appar- eled as he was, before dark. He did not care, he said, whether the place was filled or not before he arrived at Mrs. Fizzlebury's house. "I am mak- ing an awful fool of myself," said Parkin, "and for no other man than Pott would I have consent- ed to sacrifice my mustache, which I have been so long and so carefully rearing. But, if I go any farther in this most foolish and ridiculous affair, I must be permitted to have my own way in it; and my own way most decidedly is, not for any consideration that can be named, to appear in the street with this absurd costume on, before it is quite dark. If the situation be already taken by some other girl—" Up to this point we had fairly kept our counte- nances; but when Parkin so far merged his own identity into that of his costume as to speak of another girl as his alternative, Pott and I could not contain ourselves any longer, but broke into uncontrollable laughter. Parkin ground his teeth, and continued his re- marks with a determination of manner worthy of a Collector of Customs. "I say again, if the situ- ation be already filled, I shall not be sorry—in- deed, I shall be very glad—for you fellows are taking advantage of my good nature and my un- fortunate inability to say ' no,' even when I posi- tively ought to say 'no' to my best friend, to make a perfect fool of me; a dolt—an ass—that's what I am!" We did all we could to console Parkin with the reflection that his masquerade and the duty which he had so nobly undertaken would not occupy more than an hour. But Parkin was deaf to our remarks, and almost burst into tears when, in his angry strides, he chanced to pass the looking glass. However, as there was nothing to do but to wait, we waited until it was quite dark, and then Parkin consented to go out. And such, indeed, was our own want of sagacity, that, unmindful of appearances, and unable to dissociate in our minds the absurd figure before us from our friend, Fred Parkin, we actually sallied forth to accompany him to the near neighborhood of Mrs. Fizzlebury's residence. We sorely repented this lack of dis- cretion when we met on our way three several parties of ladies, and gentlemen at whose houses we visited, and who frowned ominously as they btheld Pott and me walking at either side of a gigantic servant-girl, whose newspaper bundle I was actually carrying for her. To confess the truth, we were both heartily ashamed of the company of our poor victim be- fore we had gone a hundred yards with him, and were very glad indeed when, arriving at the cor- ner which had been agreed upon as our stopping- place, we bade him God-speed and left him to per- form the rest of his mission unaided and alone. There were tears in Pott's honest eyes at this proof of Parkin's devotional sacrifice on the altar ¦ of friendship, as he remarked while watching the new girl's monstrous strides down the street, " He's a good fellow, now, and I'm sure it's most kind of her, and I shall never forget his friend- ship. But, as you say, it will be only half an hour's inconvenience for him, and when she comes back we'll drink a bottle of champagne with him, and I declare I don't know of any thing that she might ask me to do that I wouldn't readily do for him." Chapteb VI.—The New Girl, Pabkin. Parkin stopped at the bar at the corner and for- tified himself with a glass of something hot and strong, to the amazement and amid the winks of the persons in attendance; and then, resolutely determining that, if the ingenuity of man could compass this end, he would have speech with Miss Arabella before he had been ten minutes in the house, he strode to his destination, and rang the bell with a feeling of desperate courage. Mrs. Fizzlebury, in person, opened the door, and Parkin was admitted. By Mrs. Fizzlebury the appearance of Parkin (the New Girl) was accepted as a mark of the great bounty of Providence in her utmost need. The proprietor of the Intelligence Office had prom- ised that a servant should be sent to her at four o'clock that afternoon. But the hour had passed, and so also had the girl; who, having heard, be fore she left the office, of the detes'able character of the house, had declined to become an inmate thereof. Mrs. Fizzlebury, was, therefore, suffer- ing much distress of mind, and had willingly con- sented that Miss Arabella should go and dine at her aunt Keduser's, since it would be impossible, with- out a housemaid, to have a comfortable dinner at home. It must be added that Miss Arabella bad her pri- vate reasons for wishing to be frequently at her aunt Keduser's; because that lady lived opposite to the residence of Arabella's most intimate friend and confidant, Miss Wobbleham, who received and delivered, in secret and totally without the knowl- edge of their parents, certain notes wliich fre- quently passed between the Count de Couac, who was Miss Wobbleham's singing-master, and Miss Arabella. But of this, more by-and by. Great had been Mrs. Fizzlebury's distress that afternoon, and correspondingly great was her joy on beholding Parkin, though, if the truth must be told, he was any thing but an agreeable girl to look upon. "Come in—come in!" said Mrs.Fizzlebury, with much affability. "Mr. Jackson at the Intelligence Office promised that you would be here at four o'clock, and it is now past seven. I began to think that you were not coming!" Parkin felt that a resort to all of poetic imagina- tion that he could command must be at once made. " I went up to Harlem, ma'am, to tell my sister that I had got a place," said Parkin, as he followed Mrs. Fizzlebury into the parlor, and, after the man- ner of servant-girls in our day, seated himself in front of Mrs. Fizzlebury, who was standing. " You seem to have a severe cold," remarked Mrs. Fizzlebury; "you appear to be very hoarse!" "A very bad cold, indade, ma'am," said Parkin, wincing with the fear that his masculine voice might spoil every thing; "a very bad cold, ma'am. 1 caught it washin' ihe windys with hot water one very cold day, and the byes in the street was very rude, indeed, ma'am— " " Well, never mind about that," interrupted Mrs. Fizzlebury. " What is your name? " "Mary, ma'am," said Parkin. "Mary what?" inquired the lady. " No, ma'am, av you plase, but Mary Murphy, ma'am." " Ah, Mary Murphy! " repeated Mrs. Fizzlebury. " Have you a recommendation, Mary?" "I have, ma'am," replied Parkin, finding, with much difficulty, the pocket of the strange garment then on his person, and into whieh he had stowed his money and his papers. Hastily selecting the document which looked like the character which I had that morning written for him, he handed it, with a show of much confidence and integrity, to Mrs. Fizzlebury. That lady adjusted her spectacles, opened the paper, frowned, and looked, as one puzzled, to- ward Parkin. " One pair! " said Mrs. Fizzlebury, reading; " one pair pantaloons, fifteen dollars! One pair— " Parkin almost snatched the paper from her, so eager was he to secure it, and exclaimed: "That's not the paper, ma'am; that's a bill be- longing to—my brother, ma'am. Here is my char- acter, ma'am!" And Parkin really trembled when he handed the recommendation to his new mistress. It was, indeed, as I, its author, flatter myself, a most powerful document, and showed forth Par- kin in a li rht of which he, or any other Custom House clerk, under similar circumstances, might well have been proud. It ran as follows: I take pleasure In certifying that the bearer is an ex- cellent girl, of strictly moralcharacter, high principle and surprisingly moderate appetite. She is honest to à fault, and most civil and obliging to her employers She has lived in my family eleven years, and leaves us to our very sincere regret, because of our intended de- parture for Europe next week. Mrs. Smith 28 Plymouth Rock Avenue, Brooklyn. As a rule, it is safe for a girl, without a recom- mendation, to have one manufactured as dating from Brooklyn. It is a long way off for a lady who lives in the upper part of New York, and who, happening to be badly in want of a servant, will probably say, "Well, you can come, and the day after to-morrow I will go over to Brooklyn and see the lady, and, if I find that she confirms this, it will be all right; " and so, if tbe girl suits for a day or two, the proposed visit to Brooklyn is put off from day to day, and the lady never troub- les herself to go thither. It may happen that, one fine morning, the new girl robs the house and de- camps, whereupon the lady declares that she nev- er again will engage a servant on a written rec- ommendation—a determination to which she rig. idly adheres until the next time, when her indo- lence and a pressing necessity may induce her to forget or waive her resolution. "This recommendation," said Mrs.Fizzlebury, to Parkin, " is quite satisfactory, and, in a day or two, I will go over to Brooklyn and see Mrs. Smith. Are you an early riser, Mary?" " Five in the Summer, and six in the Winter. ma'am," said Parkin. " That will do very well," remarked Mrs. Fizzle- bury, blandlv. She was always honey to an incom. ing girl, and vinegar to an outgoing one. " Can you remain to-night? " "Oh, yes, ma'am, certainly," responded Parkin, rather more eagerly than was quite prudent. < " Your duties here," observed the wily lady, in the most cordial tone she could assume, "will not be very severe. You will, the first thing in the morning, sweep out the parlor and the dining- room after dusting the furniture. You will then set the breakfast-table, and give Mr. Fizzlebury his breakfast. In the course of the morning you will attend to the bedrooms and make the beds (Par- kin winced at this announcement of what—ex- pressed and understood—would be expected of him); but before doing so, and as Miss Arabella and myself always breakfast in bed, you will bring mine and Miss Arabella's up to our bed- rooms. (Parkin shuddered and half rose from the chair with an idea of making his escape, lest he might hear something still more revolting in the catalogue of his duties). You will then wash np Uie breakfast things, clean the knives, and assist Cook in the laundry-work. Are you a good wash- er and ironer, Mary?" Parkin groaned in spirit at this new horror, but he had sufficient presence of mind to answer, "II- ligant, ma'am." "You will also go to market," continued Mrs. Fizzlebury, " do what mending of the clothes may be required, set lunch, perform such errands as may be needed, black Mr. Fiszlebury'g boots (Par- kin could scarcely sustain this last shock, and was on the point of saying that he would see Mr. Fiz- zlebury something first; but he restrained himself, and Mrs. Fizzlebury continued): " You will wait at table at dinner and tea, take the plate up to my bedroom on your way up to bed; and, by the way, can you make pastry, Mary?" "Splindid, ma'am," said Parkin. " Very good, indeed," remarked Mrs. Fizzlebury, who flattered herself that she now had the very pearl of housemaids. " Very good, indeed. And your wages? " "Twelvo dollars a month, ma'am," answered Parkin, promptly. "Oh, dear!" cried Mrs. Fizzlebury, "I never pay more than ten." "I'm speakin' in currency, ma'am," observed Parkin. "So am I, Mary," responded Mrs. Fizzlebury. "Well, ma'am," said Parkin, anxious to have these preliminaries over, in order that he might the more speedily obtain speech of Miss Arabella, " well, ma'am, seem' it's you ma'am, I'm willin* to say tin dollars to begin; thin if I shute you, ma'am, you'll make it twelve; " which was readi- ly agreed to by Mrs. Fizzlebury as a condition which hound her specially to nothing, and be- cause she made it a point always to agree to any thing and every thing when a new girl was to be employed. Parkin then, according to the plan which had been agreed on between us as necessary thor- oughly to blind his new mistress, began to play his part in the putting of questions. " How many girls do you keep, ma'am?" " Two," answered Mrs. Fizzlebury; "a cook and a housemaid." "I'm afraid that wouldn't shute me, ma'am," said Parkin. "In my last place, at Mrs. Smith's, in Brooklyn, there were four girls, besides tbe coachman and the gardener, a small boy ànd a dawg, ma'am." This answer immediately impressed Mrs. Fizzle- bury with the idea that the imaginary personage whom Parkin called Mrs. Smith, but who was only a sort of Long Island Mrs. Harris, must be a high- ly respectaole person whose acquaintance it would be very desirable to cultivate. She certainly would call on Mrs. Smith. "Well," said the sly old lady, who was extreme- ly anxious not to say any thing likely to disgust the new girl. " we have for some time had an idea of keeping three girls, and I think we shall short- ly do so." "How about the table, ma'am?" inquired Par- kin. " What sort of a table do you keep, ma'am? because I never could eat cowld meat, and wouldn't like to be asked to do it; and you know yourself, ma'am, that any lady as is a lady would not by no means ask a girl to eat cowld meat" Mrs. Fizzlebury promptly declared that she rare- ly, if ever, required her girls to eat cold meat. (She did not; it was not every day that they had meat, warm or cold). " You allow two aivnings out a week, I suppose, ma'am; as other ladies does?" " We always allow one evening in the week," said Mrs. Fizzlebury. (This was partially true. One evening was always stipulated; but when it was claimed, Mrs. Fizzlebury invariably adduced the fact of the other girl's having gone away that day as a reason why the privilege must he with- held).