you get through.  If it be green tea, prepared by large infusion of Prussian blue and gypsum, or black tea mixed with pulverized black lead, you may expect there will be a poisonous effect in the conversation and the moral health damaged.  The English Parliament found that there had come into that country two million pounds of what the merchants call “lie tea,” and, as far as I can estimate, about the same amount has been imported into the United States; and when the housewife pours into the cups of her guests a decoction of this “lie tea,” the group are sure to fall to talking about their neighbors, and misrepresenting everything they touch.  One meeting of a “sewing society” up in Canada, where this tea was served, resulted in two law-suits for slander, four black eyes that were not originally of that color, the expulsion of the minister, and the abrupt removal from the top of the sexton’s head of all capillary adornment.

But on our tea-table we will have first-rate Ningyong, or Pouchong, or Souchong, or Oolong, so that the conversation may be pure and healthy.

We propose from time to time to report some of the talk of our visitors at the tea-table.  We do not entertain at tea many very great men.  The fact is that great men at the tea-table for the most part are a bore.  They are apt to be self-absorbed, or so profound I cannot understand them, or analytical of food, or nervous from having studied themselves half to death, or exhume a piece of brown bread from their coat-tail because they are dyspeptic, or make such solemn remarks about hydro-benzamide or sulphindigotic acid that the children get frightened and burst out crying, thinking something dreadful is going to happen.  Learned Johnson, splashing his pompous wit over the table for Boswell to pick up, must have been a sublime nuisance.  It was said of Goldsmith that “he wrote like an angel and talked like poor Poll.”  There is more interest in the dining-room when we have ordinary people than when we have extraordinary.

There are men and women who occasionally meet at our tea-table whose portraits are worth taking.  There are Dr. Butterfield, Mr. Givemfits, Dr. Heavyasbricks, Miss Smiley and Miss Stinger, who come to see us.  We expect to invite them all to tea very soon; and as you will in future hear of their talk, it is better that I tell you now some of their characteristics.

Dr. Butterfield is one of our most welcome visitors at the tea-table.  As his name indicates, he is both melting and beautiful.  He always takes pleasant views of things.  He likes his tea sweet; and after his cup is passed to him, he frequently hands it back, and says, “This is really delightful, but a little more sugar, if you please.”  He has a mellowing effect upon the whole company.  After hearing him talk a little while, I find tears standing in my eyes without any sufficient reason.  It is almost as good as a sermon to see him wipe his mouth with a napkin.  I would not want him all alone