of loyalty to
my family doctor caused me to utter some childish remark in his defense
which was possibly to the effect that he was a great deal better doctor
than Dr. Bush, who had failed to save the life of our late schoolmate.
In recalling this childish episode which caused me so much anxiety I am
surprised that such unnecessary attention was paid to the passing remark
of a mere child.

Dr. Francis was as proficient in quoting wise maxims as Benjamin
Franklin, whom he was said to resemble. One of them which I recall is
the epitome of wisdom: "If thy hand be in a lion's mouth, get it out as
fast as thou canst."

I may here state, by the way, that in close proximity to Dr. Francis's
residence on Bond Street lived Dr. Eleazer Parmly, the fashionable
dentist of New York. He stood high in public esteem and a few still
living may remember his pleasing address. He accumulated a large fortune
and I believe left many descendants.

The girls at Miss Forbes's school were taught needle work and
embroidery, for in my early days no young woman's education was regarded
as complete without these accomplishments. I quote from memory an
elaborate sampler which bore the following poetical effusion:

What is the blooming tincture of the skin,
To peace of mind and harmony within?
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye
To the soft soothing of a kind reply?

Can comeliness of form or face so fair
With kindliness of word or deed compare?
No. Those at first the unwary heart may gain,
But these, these only, can the heart retain.

It seems remarkable that after spending months in working such effusive
lines, or others similar to them, Miss Forbes's pupils did not become
luminaries of virtue and propriety. If they did not their failure
certainly could not be laid at the door of their preceptress.

Miss Forbes personally taught the rudiments but Mr. Luther Jackson, the
writing master, visited the school each day and instructed his scholars
in the Italian style of chirography. Mr. Michael A. Gauvain taught
French so successfully that in a short time many of us were able to
place on the amateur boards a number of French plays. Our audiences were
composed chiefly of admiring parents, who naturally viewed the
performances with paternal partiality and no doubt regarded us as
incipient Rachels. I remember as if it were only yesterday a play in
which I took one of the principal parts--"Athalie," one of Jea