irs of a vulgarian. These people spent their money freely, and
seemed to have enough of it, but they aspired to make a show rather than
secure real enjoyment. They associated with third-rate people, and vied
with each other in giving parties and balls to which all the young
swells in town were invited. In fine, East Bowling Green had a cheap,
retail flavor about it which all its show and extravagance failed either
to conceal or atone for.

Mrs. Chapman had resided three months in Bowling Green, and yet
first-class society had kept its doors closed--did not even condescend a
smile. This was very mortifying to a lady whose pretentions were quite
equal to her dimensions. A few second and third-rate people had made a
formal call, or left a card. But it was merely as a matter of ceremony.
Mr. Pinks, the elegant old beau of the Green, who was looked up to by
first-rate society everywhere, and considered himself born to stand
guard over it and protect it from vulgar contact, and who was accepted
as authority in all matters of etiquette, and had standing invitations
to dinner with all the best families, had called to pay his respects and
congratulate the lady. But Pinks considered this strictly a matter of
duty--to make an observation.

When Beau Pinks reported the result of his call to the Warburton family,
who were first-rate people, and the Warburton family spread it through
West Bowling Green, there was great amusement in the neighborhood.

"Won't do, the lady won't," said Pinks, lowering his voice to a whisper,
and shaking his head. "Lady weighs two hundred pounds and more. A dead
weight on the back of any society. Very pretentious, but makes shocking
work of the King's English, and discovers low origin in her conversation
generally. Puts on finery without regard to color or complexion, told me
how many new dresses she had making, has big, fat hands, and wears
common gold rings. Worse than all," continued Pinks, raising his hands,
"the lady wanted to know if I could tell her how to reform servants, and
if I liked rhubarb pies for breakfast."

With such a report from Pinks it was no wonder first-rate society did
not take kindly to the lady. The rhubarb pies for breakfast settled the
question in Pinks' mind, and he never called again, though he kept up a
bowing acquaintance with the lady. Mrs. Chapman now fell back on a
reception. A reception would be the thing to make Bowling Green
surrender. The day was set and cards se