fe of
Senator Morton, of Indiana, one of General Grant's biggest sort of guns.
You have heard of Senator Morton, of course. He was a first-rate fellow
during the war, when he just buckled to and raised a half a million of
dollars on his own account for the Government, which was grand in
itself, and accounts for the way the people in Indiana almost worship
him.

Well, this lady was his wife. She looked young, and was dressed
nicely--not just like a girl, but as if she had her husband's dignity to
take care of, as well as her own good looks.

When we got to the door of this room, a gentleman came up, and, after
making a bow, wanted us to tell our names. Cousin E. E. answered:

"Mrs. Dempster, of New York, and Miss Phoemie Frost, of Vermont."

He didn't seem to hear distinctly, but bent his head; and says he:

"Miss, did you say?"

I flushed rosy-red, and my eyelids drooped, for I was thinking of the
Grand Duke.

"At present," says I.

Then the gentleman called out so loud that everybody could hear him:

"Mrs. Dempster--Miss Phoemie Frost."

I say, sisters, did you ever see a cage full of canary-birds flutter
when a cat was looking through the wires? If you have, that can give you
some idea of the buzz, hum, and rustle that was going on when we came up
to the front of that round sofa, and gave Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Morton one
of those sliding curtsies that set off a long-trailed dress so well.

Mrs. President Grant smiled sweetly, and held our her hand. I took that
hand, I pressed it kindly--for I like that woman, whom poverty could not
daunt, and sudden prosperity could not spoil. She's a good, motherly,
nice woman, and my heart warmed to her as I took her hand in mine.

"Miss Frost, I am delighted to see you back in Washington," says she;
"especially as the weather promises to be so pleasant."

"In some places we are apt to forget the weather, finding everything
bright and pleasant without regard to it," says I.

When I spoke, the ladies around crowded up to listen, and looked at each
other, smiling. One or two gentlemen came up, too, and when I bowed my
head and walked on, giving common people a chance, one of them came up
to me, and says he:

"Miss Frost, I think I have the pleasure of claiming you as a
constituent," says he.

"A what?" says I.

"A constituent," says he, a-smiling softly.

"No," says I; "I don't remember being connected with any family of that
name."

"But you are from Vermont?"