lied, stepping out of
the way of an idiot lad, who, dressed as a jester in Walker's colours,
was sitting on a horse whose progress was blocked by the crowd, which
began jibing at the rider.

Dawn, indignant at this, dashed forward like a beauteous and
infuriated Queen Boadicea, her cheeks red from excitement and the
winter air, and with her grandmother's flash in her eyes, exclaimed as
she took the bridle rein--

"Cowards, to torment a poor fellow!"

She attempted to lead the animal through, but the torches of the band
were put before it and the indispensable red, white, and blue parasols
swirled in its face, till it reared and plunged frantically, catching
the excited girl a blow on the shoulder with its chest. She must
inevitably have been knocked down in the street and been trampled upon
but for the intervention of a hand so timely that it seemed it must
have been on guard.

Noonoon was by no means an architectural town, and the ugliness of its
always dirty, uneven streets was now accentuated by the mud and rain,
but the picture under the dripping flags shown up by the torches of
the band was very pretty.

The sturdy young athlete thus triumphantly in the right place at a
necessitous moment, held his precious burden with ease and delight,
and though she was not in any way hurt she did not seem in a hurry to
relinquish the arm so willingly and proudly protecting her. The
expression on the young man's face as he bent over the beautiful girl
was a revelation to some interested observers but not to me.

Oh, lucky young lady! to be thus opportunely and romantically saved
from a painful and humiliating if not serious accident!

Oh, happy knight! to be thus at hand at the psychologic moment!

And where was "Dora" Eweword then?

And where was _my_ rescuer? Apparently he had forgotten that he had
rescued me, or that to have done so was of moment.

Ah, neither of us were in the heyday of youth, and 'tis only during
that roseate period that we extract the full enchantment of being
alive, and only by looking back from paler days that we understand how
intense were the joys gone by.

TWENTY-FOUR.

LITTLE ODDS AND ENDS OF LIFE.

The electioneering over, the town fell to a dulness inconceivable, and
from which it seemed nothing short of an earthquake could resuscitate
it. So great was the lack of entertainment that the doings of the
famous Mrs Dr Tinker regained prominence, and the old complaints
against t