ptied long processions of
wagons, horses, and yeomanry into the town. The pack and cram of people
vastly exceeded any that had ever been seen in that sleepy region before.
The only thing that had ever even approached it, was the time long gone
by, but never forgotten, nor even referred to without wonder and pride,
when two circuses and a Fourth of July fell together. But the glory of
that occasion was extinguished now for good. It was but a freshet to
this deluge.

The great invasion massed itself on the river-bank and waited hungrily
for the immense event. Waited, and wondered if it would really happen,
or if the twin who was not a "professor" would stand out and prevent it.

But they were not to be disappointed. Angela was as good as his word.
He came attended by an escort of honor composed of several hundred of the
best citizens, all of the Angelo party; and when the immersion was
finished they escorted him back home and would even have carried him on
their shoulders, but that people might think they were carrying Luigi.

Far into the night the citizens continued to discuss and wonder over the
strangely mated pair of incidents that had distinguished and exalted the
past twenty-four hours above any other twenty-four in the history of
their town for picturesqueness and splendid interest; and long before the
lights were out and burghers asleep it had been decided on all hands that
in capturing these twins Dawson's Landing had drawn a prize in the great
lottery of municipal fortune.

At midnight Angelo was sleeping peacefully. His immersion had not harmed
him, it had merely made him wholesomely drowsy, and he had been dead
asleep many hours now. It had made Luigi drowsy, too, but he had got
only brief naps, on account of his having to take the medicine every
three-quarters of an hour-and Aunt Betsy Hale was there to see that he
did it. When he complained and resisted, she was quietly firm with him,
and said in a low voice:

"No-no, that won't do; you mustn't talk, and you mustn't retch and gag
that way, either--you'll wake up your poor brother."

"Well, what of it, Aunt Betsy, he--"

"'Sh-h! Don't make a noise, dear. You mustn't: forget that your poor
brother is sick and--"

"Sick, is he? Well, I wish I--"

"'Sh-h-h! Will you be quiet, Luigi! Here, now, take the rest of it
--don't keep me holding the dipper all night. I declare if you haven't
left a good fourth of it in the bottom! Come-that's a