the memories of young and happy days. A
few words will tell the history of each, and then we can go on with the
new chapter of their lives.

Franz was with a merchant kinsman in Hamburg, a man of twenty-six now,
and doing well. Emil was the jolliest tar that ever 'sailed the ocean
blue'. His uncle sent him on a long voyage to disgust him with this
adventurous life; but he came home so delighted with it that it was
plain this was his profession, and the German kinsman gave him a good
chance in his ships; so the lad was happy. Dan was a wanderer still; for
after the geological researches in South America he tried sheep-farming
in Australia, and was now in California looking up mines. Nat was busy
with music at the Conservatory, preparing for a year or two in Germany
to finish him off. Tom was studying medicine and trying to like it.
Jack was in business with his father, bent on getting rich. Dolly was in
college with Stuffy and Ned reading law. Poor little Dick was dead, so
was Billy; and no one could mourn for them, since life would never be
happy, afflicted as they were in mind and body.

Rob and Teddy were called the 'Lion and the Lamb'; for the latter was
as rampant as the king of beasts, and the former as gentle as any sheep
that ever baaed. Mrs Jo called him 'my daughter', and found him the
most dutiful of children, with plenty of manliness underlying the quiet
manners and tender nature. But in Ted she seemed to see all the faults,
whims, aspirations, and fun of her own youth in a new shape. With his
tawny locks always in wild confusion, his long legs and arms, loud
voice, and continual activity, Ted was a prominent figure at Plumfield.
He had his moods of gloom, and fell into the Slough of Despond about
once a week, to be hoisted out by patient Rob or his mother, who
understood when to let him alone and when to shake him up. He was her
pride and joy as well as torment, being a very bright lad for his age,
and so full of all sorts of budding talent, that her maternal mind was
much exercised as to what this remarkable boy would become.

Demi had gone through College with honour, and Mrs Meg had set her heart
on his being a minister--picturing in her fond fancy the first sermon
her dignified young parson would preach, as well as the long, useful,
and honoured life he was to lead. But John, as she called him now,
firmly declined the divinity school, saying he had had enough of books,
and needed to know more of men a