hope of ever seeing those lovely brown eyes
again.

I got to my new destination the next day, presented my credentials, gave
myself the full advantage of my high connections, and was received with
enthusiasm and distinction.

I found the new Institution torn by internal schisms even before it was
opened to the public. Two factious governed it--a grave faction and
a gay faction. Two questions agitated it: the first referring to the
propriety of celebrating the opening season by a public ball, and the
second to the expediency of admitting novels into the library. The grim
Puritan interest of the whole neighborhood was, of course, on the
grave side--against both dancing and novels, as proposed by local
loose thinkers and latitudinarians of every degree. I was officially
introduced to the debate at the height of the squabble; and found myself
one of a large party in a small room, sitting round a long table, each
man of us with a new pewter inkstand, a new quill pen, and a clean sheet
of foolscap paper before him. Seeing that everybody spoke, I got on
my legs along with the rest, and made a slashing speech on the
loose-thinking side. I was followed by the leader of the grim
faction--an unlicked curate of the largest dimensions.

"If there were, so to speak, no other reason against dancing," said
my reverend opponent, "there is one unanswerable objection to it.
Gentlemen! John the Baptist lost his head through dancing!"'

Every man of the grim faction hammered delightedly on the table, as that
formidable argument was produced; and the curate sat down in triumph. I
jumped up to reply, amid the counter-cheering of the loose-thinkers;
but before I could say a word the President of the Institution and the
rector of the parish came into the room.

They were both men of authority, men of sense, and fathers of charming
daughters, and they turned the scale on the right side in no time. The
question relating to the admission of novels was postponed, and the
question of dancing or no dancing was put to the vote on the spot. The
President, the rector and myself, the three handsomest and highest-bred
men in the assembly, led the way on the liberal side, waggishly warning
all gallant gentlemen present to beware of disappointing the young
ladies. This decided the waverers, and the waverers decided the
majority. My first business, as Secretary, was the drawing out of a
model card of admission to the ball.

My next occupation was to