ally fine complexion, knowing, as well
as Shakspeare, that

'Beauty, blemished once, is ever lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pains, and cost.'

'Is not this Miss Hobbs, of Peonytown?' suddenly asked the proprietor of
the patent leathers, after a few minutes' conversation.

'Why! yes; how _did_ you know?' was Ann Harriet's reply.

'Oh, I had a friend as went to the academy in Peonytown, and he always
kept me posted up on the pretty girls; and he talked about you so often,
I knew it _must_ be Miss Hobbs,' was the flattering answer.

'How strange!' thought Ann Harriet. 'Well, it proves that I am not
wholly overlooked by the young men of my native village.' She did not
remember that she carried a little satchel, on which the stranger had
read, 'ANN HARRIET HOBBS, _Peonytown_.'

At this time a boy entered the car with a supply of ice water for
thirsty passengers. In handing a glassful to Miss Hobbs, he spilled a
part on the floor.

'What a waste!' remarked he.

Ann Harriet blushed deep crimson--fat folks are always sensitive--and,
with a grave, fat, solemn air, she said:

'I think you are quite rude, sir.'

'I'd like to know how?' inquired he, with a look of surprise.

'By making remarks on my waist, sir. No gentleman would be guilty of
such an offence,' replied the indignant lady.

Fortunately, the train at this juncture stopped at a way station, and
the yellow moustache, poll-parrot scarf, and kid gloves got out, first
bowing very politely to their late companion. Ann Harriet was a little
sorry to have their inmate go, but consoled herself with the thought
that he was altogether too familiar.

About fifteen miles farther on, an orange boy made his appearance; and
Ann, thinking an orange would moisten her throat, felt for her
portemonnaie, and found it not; for, while she was so intently looking
_out_ for pickpockets at Yellowfield, her agreeable companion had
appropriated her cash, by looking _in_ her pocket.

'_There!_ that dandy villain has robbed me of my wallet, with fifteen
dollars in it, and the receipt for Sally Lunn cake I was going to give
Aunt Farnsworth!' exclaimed she, placidly. Stout folks bear disasters
calmly. Luckily, she had two or three dollars in her satchel, which she
had received from the ticket master when she purchased her ticket, so
she was not entirely bankrupt. Some of the passengers attempted to
sympathize with her, but they found it a thankless task, and soon
desisted