shoemakers--don't it Mr. Farnham? if it wasn't for the glass tubes
and cut-crystal goblets, that beverage ought to be legislated on.
Well, Fred, as I was saying, refreshments like these are gentlemanly,
and I rather approve of them, so don't let me hear more nonsense about
your drinking wine in a quiet way, you know, and with the right set.
Isn't this about the medium, Mr. Farnham?"

The Mayor, who usually allowed the wisdom of his lady to flow by him
like the wind, did not choose to answer this sapient appeal, but
observed curtly, that he had some writing to do, and should like,
as soon as convenient, to be left to himself. Upon this the lady
folded her white gloves spitefully and left the room, tossing her
head till the marabouts on each side of her coiffure trembled like
drifting snow-flakes, while she muttered something about husbands
and bears, which sounded very much as if she mingled the two
unpleasantly together in her ideas of natural history.

Frederick followed his mother with a serious and grieved demeanor,
taking leave of his father with a respectful "good night," which the
Mayor, dissatisfied with himself, and consequently angry, did not
deign to notice.

When left to himself, the Mayor impatiently rang a bell connected
with the kitchen. This brought a hard-faced Irish woman to the room,
who was ordered to wheel the easy-chair into the hall, and have it
thoroughly aired the first thing in the morning. After that he gave
her a brief reprimand for exceeding his directions regarding the
gas-lights, and dismissed her for the night.

After she disappeared, the Mayor continued to pace up and down the