while the romantic innocents who set up crests in the face of an
unimpressionable democracy are apt to be lured by their own curious
ambitions, or those of their women-folk, to spend a great part of their
time in or about the villas of Albion, thus paid for its perfidy; and,
although the anarchists and the bubble-hunters make a noise, it is
enormously out of proportion to their number, which is relatively very
small, and neither the imported nor the exported article can be taken as
characteristic of our country. For the American is one who soon fits any
place, or into any shaped hole in America, where you can set him down.
It may be that without going so far as to suggest the halls of the great
and good and rich, one might mention a number of houses of entertainment
for man and beast in this country, in which Mr. Martin of the Plattville
Dry Goods Emporium would find himself little at ease. But even in the
extreme case, if Mr. Martin were given his choice of being burned to
death, or drowned, or of spending a month at the most stupendously
embellished tavern located in our possessions, and supposing him to
have chosen the third alternate, it is probable that he would have grown
almost accustomed to his surroundings before he died; and if he survived
the month, we may even fancy him really enjoying moments of conversation
with the night-clerks.

As Mr. Parker observed, Miss Sherwood did not do the Grand Duchess,
giving the Carlow tenants a treat. She felt no duchess symptoms within
herself, and though, of course, she had various manners tucked away to
wear as one suits garments to occasions--and it was a Rouen "party-gown"
wherewith she chose to abash poor John Harkless at their meeting--here
in Carlow, she was a woman of affairs, lively, shrewd, engaging,
capable; she was herself (at least she was that side of herself). And
it should be explained that Harkless had based his calumny regarding the
tariff on a paragraph or two that crept inadvertently into an otherwise
statesmanlike article, and that "H. Fisbee" understood the tariff
as well as any woman who ever lived. But the tariff inspired no more
articles from that pen.

Rodney McCune had lifted his head, and those who had followed his
stricken enemy felt that the cause was lost, without the leader. The old
ring that the "Herald" had crushed was a ring once more, and the heelers
had rallied--"the boys were in line again." The work had been done
quietly, and Halloway