lounging side.

At diagonal corners of this square, as far apart as its space would
permit, two venerable doctors' homes still stood, which had given more
repute to Delaware's little capital than its jurists or statesmen,--the
former residence of Sykes the surgeon and Miller the pathologist and
writer.

It was at the former of these houses, a many-windowed, tall,
side-fronting house of plastered brick, with side office and centre
door, that Judge Custis stopped and hitched his horse to a rack near the
state-house adjoining. The sound of twittering birds fell from the large
elms, willows, and maples on the square, and Custis could see the robins
running in the grass.

From the door of the two-storied side office the sound of a violin came
tenderly, and the Judge waited until the tune was done, when loud
exclamations of pleasure, the clapping of hands, and the stamping of
feet, showed that the fiddler was not alone.

Presenting himself at the door, Judge Custis was immediately confronted
by a large, tall man, fully six feet high, with a strong countenance and
sandy hair, who carried the fiddle and bow in his hand, and with the
other hand seized Judge Custis almost affectionately, and drew him in,
crying:

"Why, how is my old friend? Goy! how does he do? Who could have expected
you on this simple occasion? Sit down there and take my own chair! Not
that little one--no, the big easy-chair for my old friend! Goy!"

As Judge Custis cast his eye around, to note the company, the
demonstrative host, with a flash of his gray-blue eyes, whispered,

"Who is he? who is he?"

"A Custis," whispered a person hardly the better off for his drams; "I
reckon he is, by the lips and skin."

"Goy!" rapidly spoke the fiddler. "Friend Custis--I know my heart does
not deceive me!--let me introduce you to the very essence of grand old
little Delaware: here is Bob Frame, the ardent spirit of our bar; this
is James Bayard, our misguided Democratic favorite; here is Charley
Marim and Secretary Harrington, and my esteemed friend Senator Ridgely,
and my cousin, Chief-justice Clayton. We are all here, and all honored
by such a rare guest. Goy!"

As the Judge went through the hand-shaking process, the tall, well-fed
host stooped to the convivial person again, and, with his hand to the
side of his mouth, and an air of solemn cunning, whispered:

"Where from?"

"Accomac, or Somerset, I reckon," muttered the other.

"Now," exclaimed the ho