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A Correct Letter from a Debutante to a Taxidermist Thanking Him for Having Stuffed Her Pet Alice Mr. Lloyd Epps, Taxidermist, New York City. DEAR SIR: It is with sincere pleasure that I take my pen in hand to compliment you upon the successful manner in which you have rendered your services as taxidermist upon my late owl Alice.
'Heaven Almighty forbid that Epps Ainslie should gie ony sick gentleman cauld well-water, and him in a fever. Na, na, hinnie, let me alane, I'll do better for ye than the like of that. 'Give me what you will, I replied; 'let it but be liquid and cool.
"It's a wonderful gift, cookie," ses Charlie Epps. All of 'em thought the same, not knowing wot a fust-class liar the cook was, and he sat there and lied to 'em till he couldn't 'ardly speak, he was so 'oarse. "My grandmother was a gypsy," he ses, "and it's in the family. Things that are going to 'appen to people I know come to me in dreams, same as pore Bill's did.
The cacao-tree has sometimes been grown from seed in hot-houses in this country, but always with difficulty, for not only must a mean temperature of at least 80° F. be maintained, but the tree must be shielded from all draught. Among the most successful are the trees grown by Mr. James Epps, Jun., of Norwood, by whose kind permission the accompanying sketches from life were made.
He talked a great deal about the people he had chucked out into the street and how unhappy the life of a renting agent could be at times. Once he gave Mr. Bingle a cigar. "Sure I'm not robbing you?" said Mr. Bingle. "No," said Mr. Epps. "I don't smoke." There was one Broadway theatre in which it was impossible to obtain seats unless they were applied for weeks in advance.
So hasten home, my lad, and tell Hannah, Cook Epps, and James Wilkinson, to do their best; and do thou look out a pint or two of Maxwell's best it is in the fifth bin there are the keys of the wine-cellar.
Epps, will you be good enough now to distribute the pay envelopes? I shall say good night to all of you, and to you, Mr. Epps, as well. To-morrow at any hour you may select it will give me pleasure to go with you to see the little flat you have described as the most desirable in your list of apartments. I was not aware, Mr.
By J. H. PULTE, M.D., Author of "Woman's Medical Guide," etc. Twenty-fourth thousand. Cincinnati: Moore, Wilstach, Keys, & Co. London: James Epps, 170, Piccadilly, 1857. Of course the reader understands the following notice to be written by a venerable practitioner, who carries a gold-headed cane, and does not believe in any medical authority later than Sydenham.
Epps, I never saw such a knockout piece of taxidermy, even in Europe, and I simply adore it. Mother gave a dinner party last night and EVERYBODY was just wild about it and wanted to know who had done it. How on EARTH did you manage to get the wings to stay like that? And the eyes are just too priceless for words.
Honestly, every time I look at it, it's so DARNED natural that I can't believe Alice is really dead. I guess you must be pretty dog-goned crazy about birds yourself to have done such a lovely job on Alice, and I guess you know how perfectly sick I was over her death. Honestly, Mr. Epps, she was such a PEACH of an owl.
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