sion and a religious offering. When he gave out the name of the tune, which was then always done in a distinct enunciation, and we rose in our seats in the gallery, every eye turning to him for guidance, he seemed, with his commanding presence and dignified form, to our young minds a superior being. One of his requisitions was imperative, that the female portion of the choir should sing without their bonnets. That article of apparel being then the antipodes of the present fashion, and formidable both for size and protrusion, he affirmed not only intercepted the sound, but precluded striking the key-tone with accuracy. None of us would gainsay his wishes, and the simplicity of the times counted it no indecorous exposure. Nevertheless, there was sometimes, as is wont to be in more modern days among those who sustain the sacred harmony, a murmuring of discordant strings. One young lady of the Huntington name, though not a near relative of his own, chanced to take offence, and was seen on a Sunday morning making her way to a seat in the body of the church.
"Come up to us here;" said we.
"No. Zaccheus may climb the tree alone, for all me," was the quick reply. It ought to be mentioned that this bad pun was by no means a fair exponent of her native wit.
The only daughter of this gentleman, Eliza Mary Huntington, my school associate and sisterly friend,
