eating down toward Staten
Island, to hunt for the earliest blue-fish.

The two Dolphs crossed the Battery, where the elder bowed to his friends
among the merchants who lounged about the city's pleasure-ground, lazily
chatting over their business affairs. Then they turned up past Bowling
Green into Broadway, where Mr. Dolph kept on bowing, for half the town
was out, taking the fresh morning for marketing and all manner of
shopping. Everybody knew Jacob Dolph afar off by his blue coat with the
silver buttons, his nankeen waistcoat, and his red-checked Indian silk
neckcloth. He made it a sort of uniform. Captain Beare had brought him a
bolt of nankeen and a silk kerchief every year since 1793, when Mr.
Dolph gave him credit for the timber of which the _Ursa Minor_ was
built.

And everybody seemed willing to make acquaintance with young Jacob's
London-made kerseymere breeches, of a bright canary color, and with his
lavender silk coat, and with his little _chapeau de Paris_. Indeed,
young Jacob was quite the most prominent moving spectacle on Broadway,
until they came to John Street, and saw something rolling down the
street that quite cut the yellow kerseymeres out of all popular
attention.

This was a carriage, the body of which was shaped like a huge section of
a cheese, set up on its small end upon broad, swinging straps between
two pairs of wheels. It was not unlike a piece of cheese in color, for
it was of a dull and faded grayish-green, like mould, relieved by
pale-yellow panels and gilt ornaments. It was truly an interesting
structure, and it attracted nearly as much notice on Broadway in 1807 as
it might to-day. But it was received with far more reverence, for it was
a court coach, and it belonged to the Des Anges family, the rich
Huguenots of New Rochelle. It had been built in France, thirty years
before, and had been sent over as a present to his brother from the
Count des Anges, who had himself neglected to make use of his
opportunities to embrace the Protestant religion.

When the white-haired old lady who sat in this coach, with a very little
girl by her side, saw Mr. Dolph and his son, she leaned out of the
window and signalled to the old periwigged driver to stop, and he drew
up close to the sidewalk. And then Mr. Dolph and his son came up to the
window and took off their hats, and made a great low bow and a small low
bow to the old lady and the little girl.

"Madam Des Anges," said Mr. Dolph, with an i