ing his pen upon
his handkerchief, which I had remarked during his final
examination, became chronic with him, and I knew that he
had entered upon the study of law. He worked hard during
that year, and dress shirts almost disappeared from his
weekly bundle. It was in the following winter, the second
year of his legal studies, that the tragedy of his life
began. I became aware that a change had come over his
laundry; from one, or at most two a week, his dress shirts
rose to four, and silk handkerchiefs began to replace
his linen ones. It dawned upon me that Fifty-Six was
abandoning the rigorous tenor of his student life and
was going into society. I presently perceived something
more; Fifty-Six was in love. It was soon impossible to
doubt it. He was wearing seven shirts a week; linen
handkerchiefs disappeared from his laundry; his collars
rose from two inches to two and a quarter, and finally
to two and a half. I have in my possession one of his
laundry lists of that period; a glance at it will show
the scrupulous care which he bestowed upon his person.
Well do I remember the dawning hopes of those days,
alternating with the gloomiest despair. Each Saturday I
opened his bundle with a trembling eagerness to catch
the first signs of a return of his love. I helped my
friend in every way that I could. His shirts and collars
were masterpieces of my art, though my hand often shook
with agitation as I applied the starch. She was a brave
noble girl, that I knew; her influence was elevating the
whole nature of Fifty-Six; until now he had had in his
possession a certain number of detached cuffs and false
shirt-fronts. These he discarded now,--at first the false
shirt-fronts, scorning the very idea of fraud, and after
a time, in his enthusiasm, abandoning even the cuffs. I
cannot look back upon those bright happy days of courtship
without a sigh.

"The happiness of Fifty-Six seemed to enter into and fill
my whole life. I lived but from Saturday to Saturday.
The appearance of false shirt-fronts would cast me to
the lowest depths of despair; their absence raised me to
a pinnacle of hope. It was not till winter softened into
spring that Fifty-Six nerved himself to learn his fate.
One Saturday he sent me a new white waistcoat, a garment
which had hitherto been shunned by his modest nature, to
prepare for his use. I bestowed upon it all the resources
of my art; I read his purpose in it. On the Saturday
following it was returned