of character. Once or twice in the course of
a century I unclose my lips. When the gentle Lady Arbella departed this
life I uttered a groan. When the honest mint-master weighed his plump
daughter against the pine-tree shillings I chuckled audibly at the joke.
When old Simon Bradstreet took the place of the tyrant Andros I joined
in the general huzza, and capered on my wooden legs for joy. To be sure,
the by-standers were so fully occupied with their own feelings that my
sympathy was quite unnoticed."

"And have you often held a private chat with your friends?" asked
Grandfather.

"Not often," answered the chair. "I once talked with Sir William Phips,
and communicated my ideas about the witchcraft delusion. Cotton Mather
had several conversations with me, and derived great benefit from my
historical reminiscences. In the days of the Stamp Act I whispered in
the ear of Hutchinson, bidding him to remember what stock his countrymen
were descended of, and to think whether the spirit of their forefathers
had utterly departed from them. The last man whom I favored with a
colloquy was that stout old republican, Samuel Adams."

"And how happens it," inquired Grandfather, "that there is no record nor
tradition of your conversational abilities? It is an uncommon thing to
meet with a chair that can talk."

"Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giving itself a hitch
nearer to the hearth, "I am not apt to choose the most suitable moments
for unclosing my lips. Sometimes I have inconsiderately begun to speak,
when my occupant, lolling back in my arms, was inclined to take
an after-dinner nap. Or perhaps the impulse to talk may be felt at
midnight, when the lamp burns dim and the fire crumbles into decay,
and the studious or thoughtful man finds that his brain is in a mist.
Oftenest I have unwisely uttered my wisdom in the ears of sick persons,
when the inquietude of fever made them toss about upon my cushion. And
so it happens, that though my words make a pretty strong impression at
the moment, yet my auditors invariably remember them only as a dream.
I should not wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to do the same
to-morrow morning."

"Nor I either," thought Grandfather to himself. However, he thanked this
respectable old chair for beginning the conversation, and begged to know
whether it had anything particular to communicate.

"I have been listening attentively to your narrative of my adventures,"
replied the cha