y, and looked forward to all day. We were so
dainty, genteel, and good-mannered for an hour, that it impressed
even ourselves; and boys and girls became models of gentleness and
polite behavior, and the effect of those delightful evenings has given
growth and direction to many graces in our character.

[Illustration: DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF THE BAND.]

But the little ones, like Gracie and her friends, really couldn't
stand the excitement, and rolled around in odd corners on the floor,
or sought the grateful obscurity behind the sofas, to indulge in naps,
long before nine o'clock. I found Gracie, in her pink silk dress and
violet slippers, lying curled up under the table, with her head on the
back of Bosin, the great Newfoundland dog that had stolen into the
parlor against rules.

Nelson Faber was a little boy, not much older than Gracie, and they
seemed to enjoy each other's society very much. He too oftentimes
succumbed to sleepiness when we wanted him to do his sailor dance; but
when the morning came, they were as rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed as
ever, and trotted along the pleasant walks with their hoops and pails,
inseparable friends. It was fortunate for Gracie, too, that he
preferred to play with her, rather than to go off with the boys, for
one day after a boisterous night, the sea came up higher on the beach
than we had ever before seen it; and unsuspecting Gracie was caught by
a wave and thrown down, and as it retired it seemed to drag her along
with it; we older ones lost our presence of mind entirely, and
screamed and cried, and did nothing, but that heroic little fellow ran
into the boiling surf and caught her dress, and with the dog's
assistance, dragged her to a safe place. She said he was, "Very nice
and dood."

One day, some of my girl companions proposed to visit the rocks that
lay at the mouth of Green river, just where it gently met the ocean.
Right there, no end of sea-weed and shells, and things thrown up by
the ocean, could be found; and there were such curious rocks, with
nooks and basins, where the water stayed in tiny pools, and there we
went fishing, and brought lunch, setting it out on the most convenient
flat rock we could find. I tell you, cold chicken, pickles, cheese,
and sponge cake, with milk, tasted as they never did before or since,
to our party of hungry children. We climbed and fell, and laughed, and
chatted, with the salt breeze lifting our hair, and fanning our brown
faces, and g