gislature with a little bill to change the name of Tretherick
to Starbottle. They call it a marriage-certificate down there. Mr.
Tretherick has been dead just one month; but we presume the gallant
colonel is not afraid of ghosts." It is but just to Mrs. Tretherick
to state that the colonel's victory was by no means an easy one. To
a natural degree of coyness on the part of the lady was added the
impediment of a rival,--a prosperous undertaker from Sacramento, who
had first seen and loved Mrs. Tretherick at the theatre and church; his
professional habits debarring him from ordinary social intercourse, and
indeed any other than the most formal public contact with the sex. As
this gentleman had made a snug fortune during the felicitous prevalence
of a severe epidemic, the colonel regarded him as a dangerous rival.
Fortunately, however, the undertaker was called in professionally to lay
out a brother-senator, who had unhappily fallen by the colonel's pistol
in an affair of honor; and either deterred by physical consideration
from rivalry, or wisely concluding that the colonel was professionally
valuable, he withdrew from the field.

The honeymoon was brief, and brought to a close by an untoward incident.
During their bridal-trip, Carry had been placed in the charge of
Col. Starbottle's sister. On their return to the city, immediately on
reaching their lodgings, Mrs. Starbottle announced her intention of
at once proceeding to Mrs. Culpepper's to bring the child home. Col.
Starbottle, who had been exhibiting for some time a certain uneasiness
which he had endeavored to overcome by repeated stimulation, finally
buttoned his coat tightly across his breast, and, after walking
unsteadily once or twice up and down the room, suddenly faced his wife
with his most imposing manner.

"I have deferred," said the colonel with an exaggeration of port that
increased with his inward fear, and a growing thickness of speech,--"I
have deferr--I may say poshponed statement o' fack thash my duty ter
dishclose ter ye. I did no wish to mar sushine mushal happ'ness, to
bligh bud o' promise, to darken conjuglar sky by unpleasht revelashun.
Musht be done--by G-d, m'm, musht do it now. The chile is gone!"

"Gone!" echoed Mrs. Starbottle.

There was something in the tone of her voice, in the sudden
drawing-together of the pupils of her eyes, that for a moment nearly
sobered the colonel, and partly collapsed his chest.

"I'll splain all in a minit,