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the early forties and fifties almost everybody "had about enough to live on," and young ladies dressed well on a hundred dollars a year. The daughters of the richest man in Boston were dressed with scrupulous plainness, and the wife and mother owned one brocade, which did service for several years. Display was considered vulgar. Now, alas! only Queen Victoria dares to go shabby; fine clothes have become a necessity to the lesser lights. The greater proportion of people were happier, because there was not such emulation, such vulgar striving, nor such soaring, foolish ambitions. Then men and women fell back on their own minds for that entertainment which they now seek in fast horses, yachts, great and constant change, journeys to Europe and to Newport. Books took the place of dress and display. When a young lady was introduced into society one bouquet did duty for the seventy-five which now are considered quite too few. There was a sober elegance among even the first in position and the richest in pocket. There was no talk about money; it has become a subject of conversation since the war.

I was fortunate in being born in that hour of grace