Tuesday Morning. English Composition. Sunshine. Miss Jones,

round to

Trio on Three Pianos. Duel from opera of Midshipman Easy. Marryatt.

coming in at nine, Thursday evening! Think of this, reader, for men
who know the world is trying to go backward, and who would give their
lives if they could help it on! Well! The double had succeeded so well
at the Board, that I sent him to the Academy. (Shade of Plato,
pardon!) He arrived early on Tuesday, when, indeed, few but mothers
and clergymen are generally expected, and returned in the evening to
us, covered with honors. He had dined at the right hand of the
chairman, and he spoke in high terms of the repast. The chairman had
expressed his interest in the French conversation. "I am very glad you
liked it," said Dennis; and the poor chairman, abashed, supposed the
accent had been wrong. At the end of the day, the gentlemen present
had been called upon for speeches--the Rev. Frederic Ingham first, as
it happened; upon which Dennis had risen, and had said, "There has
been so much said, and, on the whole, so well said, that I will not
occupy the time." The girls were delighted, because Dr. Dabney, the
year before, had given them at this occasion a scolding on impropriety
of behavior at lyceum lectures. They all declared Mr. Ingham was a
love--and _so_ handsome! (Dennis is good-looking.) Three of them, with
arms behind the others' waists, followed him up to the wagon he rode
home in; and a little girl with a blue sash had been sent to give him
a rosebud. After this debut in speaking, he went to the exhibition for
two days more, to the mutual satisfaction of all concerned. Indeed,
Polly reported that he had pronounced the trustees' dinners of a
higher grade than those of the parsonage. When the next term began, I