marked, 'It is only Mr. Bull's way--he doesn't mean anything by
it, or I should have been jealous long ago.'

Had the observation not been so hackneyed, I would have advised Mr. Bull
to mend his way; but he seemed so thoroughly astonished that further
comment was unnecessary.

A glance at Mr. Summers, who had proved to be the redoubtable Elihu,
discovered an amused smile hovering around the corners of his mouth; and
it _was_ ridiculous that, at my first entrance into a house, I should
have a pitched battle with the master of it. To do the old man justice,
I do not believe that he _did_ 'mean anything,' as the intended salute
was to be given in the presence of witnesses; he only labored under the
hallucination of old men in general, who seem to think that, because it
is an agreeable thing to them to kiss all the fresh young lips they
encounter, it must be just as agreeable to the fresh young lips to
receive it; reminding me of a wise saying I encountered somewhere
lately, that, 'although age sees a charm in youth, youth sees no charm
in age.'

But father Bull was not malicious; he only said that 'he guessed I
wasn't used to country ways;' and after that little brush we became very
good friends.

I took to _Mrs._ Bull at once; and, following her into a neat little
room, where there was a stove, a rag carpet, and a table laid for one, I
was informed that this was the dining room, sitting room, and room in
ordinary. Tea was over long ago; indeed, as it was eight o'clock, they
had begun to think of going to bed. Cars in which I travel are always
behindhand; and they had almost given me up.

Having introduced me to my host and hostess, Mr. Summers took his leave,
for he did not board there, and went to see that my trunk was speedily
forwarded to its destination.

I sat down at the neat table, and tried what Mr. Bull denominated
'presarved squinches'--which might have passed for fragments of granite,
and were a trifle sour in addition; the apple pie, which, had it been
large enough, would have been a splendid foundation for a quadrille; the
bread, which looked like rye, but wasn't; and the tea, which neither
cheered nor inebriated. This is what good, honest city people eulogize
under the name of 'a real country tea;' and half an hour after I had
left the festive board, I could not positively have sworn whether I had
had any tea or not.

Mr. and Mrs. Bull were very hospitable, and pressed me continually to
eat, remarki