researches.

"Where's all the oranges gone to?" said Mrs. Sprowle. "I expected
there'd be ever so many of 'em left. I did n't see many of the folks
eatin' oranges. Where's the skins of 'em? There ought to be six dozen
orange-skins round on the plates, and there a'n't one dozen. And all
the small cakes, too, and all the sugar things that was stuck on the
big cakes. Has anybody counted the spoons? Some of 'em got swallered,
perhaps. I hope they was plated ones, if they did!"

The failure of the morning's orange-crop and the deficit in other
expected residual delicacies were not very difficult to account for. In
many of the two-story Rockland families, and in those favored households
of the neighboring villages whose members had been invited to the great
party, there was a very general excitement among the younger people on
the morning after the great event. "Did y' bring home somethin' from the
party? What is it? What is it? Is it frut-cake? Is it nuts and oranges
and apples? Give me some! Give me some!" Such a concert of treble
voices uttering accents like these had not been heard since the great
Temperance Festival with the celebrated "colation" in the open air under
the trees of the Parnassian Grove,--as the place was christened by the
young ladies of the Institute. The cry of the children was not in
vain. From the pockets of demure fathers, from the bags of sharp-eyed
spinsters, from the folded handkerchiefs of light-fingered sisters, from
the tall hats of sly-winking brothers, there was a resurrection of
the missing oranges and cakes and sugar-things in many a rejoicing
family-circle, enough to astonish the most hardened "caterer" that ever
contracted to feed a thousand people under canvas.

The tender recollections of those dear little ones whom extreme youth or
other pressing considerations detain from scenes of festivity--a trait
of affection by no means uncommon among our thoughtful people--dignifies
those social meetings where it is manifested, and sheds a ray of
sunshine on our common nature. It is "an oasis in the desert,"--to
use the striking expression of the last year's "Valedictorian" of the
Apollinean Institute. In the midst of so much that is purely selfish, it
is delightful to meet such disinterested care for others. When a
large family of children are expecting a parent's return from an
entertainment, it will often require great exertions on his part to
freight himself so as to meet their reasonable