rt belonged to a reading-club--a Browning and Tennyson
club--and this was its badge. Our colleagues thought he was the
Minister from Hayti!

WASHINGTON, _Spring, 1877_.

Dear Mother,--I must tell you the honor which has been conferred on me.
I have been admitted into the enchanted circle of the Brain Club. I am
an honorary member. Mrs. Dahlgren is the president, and I suppose all
the set of intellectuals, "_Les elus des elus_" belong to it. I have
only been twice to the meetings. I think I am a failure as far as
brains go, but the members like my singing, and I am only called upon
to take an active part when the members are falling off their chairs,
trying with literary efforts to keep awake.

The first meeting was a ghastly affair. The subject to be discussed was
the "Metamorphosis of Negative Matter." You may imagine that I was
staggered. I had no more idea what negative matter was than the
inhabitants of Mars. They took us alphabetically. When they got to "H,"
Mrs. Dahlgren (who, as president, sat in a comfortable chair with arms
to it, while the others sat on hard dining-room, cane-bottomed chairs)
turned to me and said, "Has Mrs. _Hegermann_ anything to say concerning
the Metamorphosis of Negative Matter?" I had on my blue velvet gown,
and thought of it fast becoming chair-stamped, and I wondered if
negative matter would comprise that. However, I wisely refrained from
speech, and shook a sad smile from my closed lips.

"H" to "K" had a great deal to say. Every one looked wise and wore an
appearance of interest. They slid down to "L." Then Mrs. Dahlgren said,
"Has Mrs. _Lindencrone_ anything to say on the Metamorphosis of
Negative Matter?" I answered that I had not discovered anything since
the last time they asked me. They were not accustomed to one lady
having two names, each beginning with a capital letter.

The members had a beautiful time when they got to "R." Up rose a gaunt
female who knew all about it and seemed positive about the "Negative"
part. We were pulled suddenly up to time, and some one turned upon poor
me and asked if I agreed. I answered hastily, "Certainly I do." Dear
me! What had I said? Half the company rose with a bound. "Do you,
really?" they asked in chorus. "That is more than we do. We cannot at
all agree with a theory which is utterly false from the base." How I
wished I knew what the false base had been. Was it the Negative, or the
Metamorphosis, or the Matter? I murmured humbly, h