ow the cavaliers from the stage,
and pass by in silence, without listening to them. Now, however, when
we have written our pastoral canto, and duly spoken of the sayings and
doings of Miss Redbud and Miss Fanny--used our best efforts to place
upon record what they amused themselves with, laughed at, and took
pleasure in, under the golden trees of the beautiful woods, and in the
happy autumn fields--now we are at liberty to return to our good old
border town, and those other personages of the history, whose merits
have not been adequately recognized.

When Verty entered Winchester, on the morning after the events, or
rather idle country scenes, which we have related, he was smiling and
joyous; and the very clatter of Cloud's hoofs made Longears merry.

Verty dismounted, and turned the knob of the office-door.

In opening, it struck against the back of Mr. Roundjacket, who, pacing
hastily up and down the apartment, seemed to be laboring under much
excitement.

In his left hand, Roundjacket carried a small brown newspaper, with
heavy straggling type, and much dilapidated from its contact with the
equestrian mail-bag, which it had evidently issued from only a short
time before. In his right hand, the poet held a ruler, which described
eccentric circles in the air, and threatened imaginary foes with
torture and extermination.

The poet's hair stood up; his breath came and went; his coat-skirts
moved from side to side, with indignation; and he evidently regarded
something in the paper with a mixture of horror and despair.

Verty paused for a moment on the threshold; then took off his hat and
went in.

Round jacket turned round.

Verty gazed at him for a moment in silence; then smiling:

"What is the matter, sir?" he said.

"Matter, sir!" cried Roundjacket--"everything is the matter, sir!"

Verty shook his head, as much as to say, that this was a dreadful
state of things, and echoed the word "everything!"

"Yes, sir! everything!--folly is the matter!--crime is the
matter!--statutory misdemeanor is the matter!"

And Roundjacket, overcome with indignation, struck the newspaper a
savage blow with his ruler.

"I am the victim, sir, of editorial iniquity, and typographical
abomination!"

"Anan?" said Verty.

"I am a victim, sir!"

"Yes, you look angry."

"I am!"

Verty shook his head.

"That is not right," he replied; "Redbud says it is wrong to be
angry--"

"Redbud!"

"Yes, sir."

"Consign Miss Re