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IN A WINTER CITY.
167

Floralia; some of the Italian planets and Muscovite stars alone hanging aloof in a loftier atmosphere, to the very great anguish of the Joshua R. Postiches.

The ball was to be a wonderful ball, and the cotillon presents were whispered to have cost thirty thousand francs, and there were various rumours of a "surprise" there would be at it, as poor Louis Napoleon used to promise the Parisians one for the New Year. Louis Napoleon's promises always ended in smoke, but the surprise of the Joshua E. Postiches was always to be reckoned on as something excellent:—salmon come straight from the Scotch rivers; lobsters stewed in tokay du krone; French comic actors fetched from Paris; some great singer, paid heaven knew what for merely opening her mouth; some dove flying about with jewels in his beak for everybody, or something of that sort, which showed that the Joshua R. Postiches, wherever they had been "raised," or even if they had kept a drinking-bar and eating-shop in Havannah, as some people said, were at all events persons who knew the requirements of their own