hear no more from him. So he found, though he professed to be such a royal Frenchman, he could neither coax, persuade nor compel the money out of our American ladies' hands.
One winter morning I noticed every countenance and dress I met on my walk—first was a man with his black beard whitening with the frost, muttering to himself; he looked as though he or some of his friends had been unfortunate. Then came another with such a smile on his face, looking as pleasant as though he had some hot buckwheat cakes and nice rolls for breakfast, and had been spoken kindly to by both wife and children; next I met two sprightly young men, well known, who had at least taken a few hours to make their toilet, when one slipped down, and the other leaned against the house to laugh. Going on a little further, I met a gentleman coming along in such deep thought he ran against a lady and looked so surprised he did not know whether to say, excuse me madam, or what did you do that for, madam.
After going my rounds that morning, I had to comb for a party. I went to the house of the gentleman who looked so sad, and told his wife I had met her lord that morning, and he looked as if his coffee was muddy, his bread had heen burnt, or his cakes not very high for breakfast that morning. "You are right, Iangy," she said, "both were bad, and he left in a very bad humor."
I proceeded with my work all gay and cheerful every one anticipating a good time. About nine o'clock, or half past, I had got through with a lady at the Burnet House, and I then went back to the
