r and sighs as Mammy Easter and Rosetta unpacked the English
trunks, and with trembling hands and rolling eyes laid each Parisian gown
upon the bed.

But the Fair, the Fair!

At the thought of that glorious year my pen fails me. Why mention the
dread possibility of the negro-worshiper Lincoln being elected the very
next month? Why listen, to the rumblings in the South? Pompeii had
chariot-races to the mutterings of Vesuvius. St. Louis was in gala garb
to greet a Prince.

That was the year that Miss Virginia Carvel was given charge of the booth
in Dr. Posthelwaite's church,--the booth next one of the great arches
through which prancing horses and lowing cattle came.

Now who do you think stopped at the booth for a chat with Miss Jinny? Who
made her blush as pink as her Paris gown? Who slipped into her hand the
contribution for the church, and refused to take the cream candy she
laughingly offered him as an equivalent?

None other than Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, Duke of Saxony, Duke of
Cornwall and Rothesay, Earl of Chester and Carrick, Baron Renfrew, and
Lord of the Isles. Out of compliment to the Republic which he visited, he
bore the simple title of Lord Renfrew.

Bitter tears of envy, so it was said, were shed in the other booths.
Belle Cluyme made a remark which is best suppressed. Eliphalet Hopper, in
Mr. Davitt's booths, stared until his eyes watered. A great throng peered
into the covered way, kept clear for his Royal Highness and suite, and
for the prominent gentlemen who accompanied them. And when the Prince was
seen to turn to His Grace, the Duke of Newcastle, and the subscription
was forthcoming, a great cheer shook the building, while Virginia and the
young ladies with her bowed and blushed and smiled. Colonel Carvel, who
was a Director, laid his hand paternally on the blue coat of the young
Prince. Reversing all precedent, he presented his Royal Highness to his
daughter and to the other young ladies. It was done with the easy grace
of a Southern gentleman. Whereupon Lord Renfrew bowed and smiled too, and
stroked his mustache, which was a habit he had, and so fell naturally
into the ways of Democracy.

Miss Puss Russell, who has another name, and whose hair is now white,
will tell you how Virginia carried off the occasion with credit to her
country.

It is safe to say that the Prince forgot "Silver Heels" and "Royal Oak,"
although they had been trotted past the Pagoda only that morning for his