huyler
place, (so called because General Schuyler stopped there over night on
his way to fight Burgoyne,) and brought his orphan niece and adopted
daughter with him, and also a French governess for the child. These
things were not in Barton style at all; all our children being educated
at the town school, and finished, as means allowed, by three months'
polish at some seminary or other. Of course, in a country town like
Barton, which numbers nearly fifteen hundred inhabitants, there is
enough to interest and occupy every one. What would be gossip and
scandal in a different social condition is pure, kindly interest in
Barton. We know everybody, and his father and mother. Of course each
person has his standing as inevitable and decided as an English
nobleman's. Our social organization is perfect. Our circles are within
and within each other, until we come to the _creme de la creme_ of the
Lunts and six other families. The outer circle is quite extensive,
embracing all the personable young men "who are not embarrassed with
antecedents," as one of our number said. The inner one takes in some
graduates of college,--persons who read all the new books, and give a
tone to Barton. Among the best people are the Elliotts and Robertses.
The lawyers and shopkeepers come in of course, but not quite of
course--anywhere but in Barton--is included the barber. But Mr. Roberts
was an extreme case. He had been destined to literary pursuits, became
consumptive, and was obliged, by unforeseen contingencies, to take up
some light employment, which proved in the end to be shaving. If it had
been holding notes instead of noses, the employment would have been
vastly genteel, I dare say. As it was, we thought about the French
_emigres_ and _marquises_ who made cakes and dressed hair for a living,
and concluded to admit Mr. Roberts, especially as he married a far-away
Elliott, and was really a sensible and cultivated man. But as we must
stop somewhere, we drew a strict line before the tinman, blacksmith, and
Democrats of all sorts. We are pure-blooded Federalists in Barton, and
were brought up on the Hartford Convention. I think we all fully
believed that a Democrat was unfit to associate with decent people.

As in most New England towns, the young fly from the parent nest as soon
as they are fledged. Out of Barton have gone, in my time, Boston
millionnaires, state secretaries, statesmen, and missionaries,--of the
last, not a few. Once the town wa