cting some of the vast constructions of his native State,--where he
was growing rich fast enough to be able to decline that famous Russian
offer which would have made him a kind of nabob in a few years. Iris
does not write verse often, nowadays, but she sometimes draws. The last
sketch of hers I have seen in my Southern visits was of two children, a
boy and girl, the youngest holding a silver goblet, like the one she held
that evening when I--I was so struck with her statue-like beauty. If in
the later, summer months you find the grass marked with footsteps around
that grave on Copp's Hill I told you of, and flowers scattered over it,
you may be sure that Iris is here on her annual visit to the home of her
childhood and that excellent lady whose only fault was, that Nature had
written out her list of virtues an ruled paper, and forgotten to rub out
the lines.

One thing more I must mention. Being on the Common, last Sunday, I was
attracted by the cheerful spectacle of a well-dressed and somewhat
youthful papa wheeling a very elegant little carriage containing a stout
baby. A buxom young lady watched them from one of the stone seats, with
an interest which could be nothing less than maternal. I at once
recognized my old friend, the young fellow whom we called John. He was
delighted to see me, introduced me to "Madam," and would have the lusty
infant out of the carriage, and hold him up for me to look at.

Now, then,--he said to the two-year-old,--show the gentleman how you hit
from the shoulder. Whereupon the little imp pushed his fat fist straight
into my eye, to his father's intense satisfaction.

Fust-rate little chap,--said the papa.--Chip of the old block. Regl'r
little Johnny, you know.

I was so much pleased to find the young fellow settled in life, and
pushing about one of "them little articles" he had seemed to want so
much, that I took my "punishment" at the hands of the infant pugilist
with great equanimity.--And how is the old boarding-house?--I asked.

A 1,--he answered.--Painted and papered as good as new. Gabs in all the
rooms up to the skyparlors. Old woman's layin' up money, they say.
Means to send Ben Franklin to college. Just then the first bell rang for
church, and my friend, who, I understand, has become a most exemplary
member of society, said he must be off to get ready for meetin', and told
the young one to "shake dada," which he did with his closed fist, in a
somewhat menacing mann