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68 loaded with flowers and most delicious fruits, with heavy old-fashioned silver-plate and china, all of which had been curious and valuable for more than a hundred years. The viands were savory and well cooked. My husband had the honor to sit next Mrs. Abbot, and I soon saw them looking at me and pointing to a picture on the wall. As I looked at it I noticed that it was like my mother and my sisters, and that the lady was dressed as I was, in yellow. In fact, it happened to bear a singular resemblance to me. Mrs. Abbot was much affected by it, and as this was a picture of her deceased daughter it became a very intimate bond between us, and led to a thousand kindnesses on her part towards the stranger.

The hour of toasts arrived, and the clergyman arose and drank "To the roof," always the first toast; then "His Majesty the King"; then "To our absent friends, God bless them!" drunk standing; "To our friendly allies, Europe and America" (rather patronizingly); and, finally, "To the bride and groom," at which my next neighbor threw his glass over his shoulder and broke it in my honor.

Then rising, each shook hands with the other, exclaimed "Welbekomer!" and we ladies retired, leaving the gentlemen to cigars and rum-and-water.

After Miss Sigenbrod had dashed off a superb sonata on the piano, Mrs. Abbot sat down by me and put her sweet old hand in mine, telling me how I reminded her of her lost daughter. "There is her picture by Sully, of Philadelphia," said she; "it might be a picture of you."

She asked me to come next week. King's Day, and see the people dance. "Our people [meaning the negroes] come in from the plantations and sing their old African melodies, and play the drum and dance; it is a wild