re slow, they might
have met their match.

"Disappointed, as we undoubtedly felt, at the little enthusiasm that marked
our _entree_, we still resolved to persist in our original plan, and
accordingly, early the following morning, announced our intention of giving
amateur theatricals. The mayor, who called upon our colonel, was the first
to learn this, and received the information with pretty much the same
kind of look the Archbishop of Canterbury might be supposed to assume if
requested by a a friend to ride 'a Derby.' The incredulous expression of
the poor man's face, as he turned from one of us to the other, evidently
canvassing in his mind whether we might not, by some special dispensation
of Providence, be all insane, I shall never forget.

"His visit was a very short one; whether concluding that we were not quite
safe company, or whether our notification was too much for his nerves, I
know not.

"We were not to be balked, however. Our plans for gayety, long planned and
conned over, wore soon announced in all form; and though we made efforts
almost super-human in the cause, our plays were performed to empty benches,
our balls were unattended, our picnic invitations politely declined, and,
in a word, all our advances treated with a cold and chilling politeness
that plainly said, 'We'll none of you.'

"Each day brought some new discomfiture, and as we met at mess, instead
of having, as heretofore, some prospect of pleasure and amusement to chat
over, it was only to talk gloomily over our miserable failures, and lament
the dreary quarters that our fates had doomed us to.

"Some months wore on in this fashion, and at length--what will not time
do?--we began, by degrees, to forget our woes. Some of us took to late
hours and brandy-and-water; others got sentimental, and wrote journals and
novels and poetry; some made acquaintances among the townspeople, and out
in to a quiet rubber to pass the evening; while another detachment, among
which I was, got up a little love affair to while away the tedious hours,
and cheat the lazy sun.

"I have already said something of my taste in beauty; now, Mrs. Boggs
was exactly the style of woman I fancied. She was a widow; she had black
eyes,--not your jet-black, sparkling, Dutch-doll eyes, that roll about and
twinkle, but mean nothing; no, hers had a soft, subdued, downcast, pensive
look about them, and were fully as melting a pair of orbs as any blue eyes
you ever looked at.

"