so sensibly, that for the first time in his life he had learned
how much he himself knew. As for the ladies, some said any one could get
as much admiration as Mabel Fewne if they could dress as expensively;
others said she was so skillful a flirt that no man could see through
her wily ways; two or three inclined to the theory of personal
magnetism; while a few brave women said that Mabel was so pretty and
tasteful, and modest and sensible and sweet, that men would be idiots if
they didn't fall in love with her at sight.

But one season came in which those who envied and feared Mabel were left
in peace, for that young lady determined to spend the Winter with her
sister, who was the wife of a military officer stationed at Smithton, in
the Far West. Smithton was a small town, but a pleasant one; it had a
railroad and mines; a government land office was established there, as
was the State Government also; trading was incessant, money was plenty,
so men of wit and culture came there to pay their respects to the
almighty dollar; and as there were nearly two-score of refined ladies in
the town, society was delightful to the fullest extent of its existence.
And Mabel Fewne enjoyed it intensely; the change of air and of scene
gave stimulus to her spirits and new grace to her form and features, so
that she soon had at her feet all the unmarried men in Smithton, while
many sober Benedicts admired as much as they could safely do without
transferring their allegiance.

Smithton was not inhabited exclusively by people of energy and culture.
New settlements, like all other things new, powerfully attract
incapables, and Smithton was no excuse to the rule. In one portion of
it, yclept "the End," were gathered many characters more odd than
interesting. Their local habitations seemed to be the liquor-shops which
fairly filled that portion of the town. About the doors of these shops
the "Enders" were most frequently seen. If one of them chanced to stray
into the business street of the town, he seemed as greatly confused and
troubled as a lost boy. In his own quarter, however, and among his own
kind, the Ender displayed a composure which was simply superb. No one
could pass through the End by daylight without seeing many of the
inhabitants thereof leaning against fences, trees, buildings, and such
other objects as could sustain without assistance the weight of the
human frame. From these points of support the Enders would contemplate
whate