she. "God save the king!"

"She hath done her office," said Hancock, solemnly. "We will follow her
reverently to the tomb of her ancestors, and then, my fellow-citizens,
onward--onward. We are no longer children of the past."

As the old loyalist concluded his narrative the enthusiasm which had
been fitfully flashing within his sunken eyes and quivering across his
wrinkled visage faded away, as if all the lingering fire of his soul
were extinguished. Just then, too, a lamp upon the mantelpiece threw
out a dying gleam, which vanished as speedily as it shot upward,
compelling our eyes to grope for one another's features by the dim
glow of the hearth. With such a lingering fire, methought, with such a
dying gleam, had the glory of the ancient system vanished from the
province-house when the spirit of old Esther Dudley took its flight.
And now, again, the clock of the Old South threw its voice of ages on
the breeze, knolling the hourly knell of the past, crying out far and
wide through the multitudinous city, and filling our ears, as we sat
in the dusky chamber, with its reverberating depth of tone. In that
same mansion--in that very chamber--what a volume of history had been
told off into hours by the same voice that was now trembling in the
air! Many a governor had heard those midnight accents and longed to
exchange his stately cares for slumber. And, as for mine host and Mr.
Bela Tiffany and the old loyalist and me, we had babbled about dreams
of the past until we almost fancied that the clock was still striking
in a bygone century. Neither of us would have wondered had a
hoop-petticoated phantom of Esther Dudley tottered into the chamber,
walking her rounds in the hush of midnight as of yore, and motioned us
to quench the fading embers of the fire and leave the historic
precincts to herself and her kindred shades. But, as no such vision
was vouchsafed, I retired unbidden, and would advise Mr. Tiffany to
lay hold of another auditor, being resolved not to show my face in the
Province House for a good while hence--if ever.

THE HAUNTED MIND.

What a singular moment is the first one, when you have hardly begun to
recollect yourself, after starting from midnight slumber! By unclosing
your eyes so suddenly you seem to have surprised the personages of
your dream in full convocation round your bed, and catch one broad
glance at them before they can flit into obscurity. Or, to vary the
metaphor, you find yourself