ers. And toward the close of the
day for which they had volunteered they became distracted. Christ Church
had a booth, and St. George's; and Dr. Thayer's, Unitarian, where Mrs.
Brice might be found and Mr. Davitt's, conducted by Mr. Eliphalet Hopper
on strictly business principles, and the Roman Catholic Cathedral, where
Miss Renault and other young ladies of French descent presided: and Dr.
Posthelwaite's, Presbyterian, which we shall come to presently. And
others, the whole way around the ring.

There is one Fair which old St. Louisans still delight to recall,--that
of the autumn of 1860--Think for a minute. You will remember that
Virginia Carvel came back from Europe; and made quite a stir in a town
where all who were worth knowing were intimates. Stephen caught a glimpse
of her an the street, received a distant bow, and dreamed of her that
night. Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, in his Sunday suit, was at the ferry to pay
his respects to the Colonel, to offer his services, and to tell him how
the business fared. His was the first St. Louis face that Virginia saw
(Captain Lige being in New Orleans), and if she conversed with Eliphalet
on the ferry with more warmth than ever before, there is nothing strange
in that. Mr. Hopper rode home with them in the carriage, and walked to
Miss Crane's with his heart thumping against his breast, and wild
thoughts whirling in his head.

The next morning, in Virginia's sunny front room tears and laughter
mingled. There was a present for Eugenie and Anne and Emily and Puss and
Maude, and a hear kiss from the Colonel for each. And more tears and
laughter and sighs as Mammy Easter and Rosetta unpacked the English
trunks, and with trembling hands and rolling eyes laid each Parisian gown
upon the bed.

But the Fair, the Fair!

At the thought of that glorious year my pen fails me. Why mention the
dread possibility of the negro-worshiper Lincoln being elected the very
next month? Why listen, to the rumblings in the South? Pompeii had
chariot-races to the mutterings of Vesuvius. St. Louis was in gala garb
to greet a Prince.

That was the year that Miss Virginia Carvel was given charge of the booth
in Dr. Posthelwaite's church,--the booth next one of the great arches
through which prancing horses and lowing cattle came.

Now who do you think stopped at the booth for a chat with Miss Jinny? Who
made her blush as pink as her Paris gown? Who slipped into her hand the
contribution for the church, an