is time we all knew where
the "two thousands" sat. Then "nine hundreds" were not far from the
front, so that it was not far that that frightened girl, dressed all in
black, and heavily veiled, had to walk, who answered to this call. Mr.
A---- met her, helped her up the stair upon the stage, took from her her
ticket, and read, "Jerusha Stillingfleet, of Yellow Springs, who, at her
death, as it seems, transferred this right to the bearer."

The disappointed nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine joined in a
rapturous cheer, each man and woman, to show that he or she was not
disappointed. The bearer spoke with Mr. Burrham, in answer to his
questions, and, with a good deal of ostentation, he opened a check-book,
filled a check and passed it to her, she signing a receipt as she took
it, and transferring to him her ticket. So far, in dumb show, all was
well. What was more to my purpose, it was rapid, for we should have been
done in five minutes more, but that some devil tempted some loafer in a
gallery to cry, "Face! face!" Miss Stillingfleet's legatee was still
heavily veiled.

In one horrid minute that whole amphitheatre, which seemed to me then
more cruel than the Coliseum ever was, rang out with a cry of "Face,
face!" I tried the counter-cry of "Shame! shame!" but I was in disgrace
among my neighbors, and a counter-cry never takes as its prototype does,
either. At first, on the stage, they affected not to hear or understand;
then there was a courtly whisper between Mr. Burrham and the lady; but
Mr. A----, the mayor, and the respectable gentlemen, instantly
interfered. It was evident that she would not unveil, and that they were
prepared to indorse her refusal. In a moment more she courtesied to the
assembly; the mayor gave her his arm, and led her out through a
side-door.

O, the yell that rose up then! The whole assembly stood up, and, as if
they had lost some vested right, hooted and shrieked, "Back! back! Face!
face!" Mr. A---- returned, made as if he would speak, came forward to
the very front, and got a moment's silence.

"It is not in the bond, gentlemen," said he. "The young lady is
unwilling to unveil, and we must not compel her."

"Face! face!" was the only answer, and oranges from up stairs flew
about his head and struck upon the table,--an omen only fearful from
what it prophesied. Then there was such a row for five minutes as I hope
I may never see or hear again. People kept their places fortunately,