in the week;) and Harriet seized in rapture upon the twins, protesting, as she undid their various wrappers, she so doated on children - they were such a treat at their house.

Here Mrs. Folger discovered that the cab had stopped at Mrs. Miller's, and while communicating the important fact, Mrs. Miller and baby ascended the steps, and away drove the clattering little vehicle.

"Well! if Mrs. Miller don't go all the time!" said Mrs. Harden. "What she pays that man for cab-hire, would keep a decent family in lights, the year round."

Mrs. Harden had very limited ideas on the subject of illuminations generally-so thought Hannah, and so hinted her husband; but "economy, after all, 's the main thing," as she so often said.

"Would Mrs. Folger sit up to the fire? perhaps her feet were damp?" suggested Miss Harriet. The walking was shocking, to be sure, and their visitor discovered that the toe of one of her slippers was quite wet; it must have been from crossing the pavement. "Perhaps she had better take the baby; he was apt to be troublesome." Mrs. Harden could not think of giving the dear little fellow up so soon; she had not held him more than a minute, and, as Harriet just said, children were such a treat to them.

Again, a rumble close to the pavement announced the arrival of the "carryall," and while Mrs. Utley and sons are being shown in, a word on cabs in general, this cab in particular. Perhaps some residents of the Quaker city still remember the hubbub among news-boys and corner-loungers, which the advent of cabs created. We have heard a description of the first ride which was daringly taken by two gentlemen friends, from the Exchange to

Fairmount. Stones were thrown - groans, hisses and derisive

cheers followed their course and happy were they at last to escape these demonstrations of the public's affectionate notice and regard. Scarcely less was the excitement, though it was of a different nature-when these most convenient vehicles made their first appearance in Rivertown.

Nobody had heard the thing proposed, when all at once Smith & Miller, of the great livery stable, came out with three of the neatest little affairs that ever were seen, and they became the rage directly. So cheap! one could ride to any part of the town for sixpence! Sixpences no longer lingered at the end of purses, the bottom of pockets. Young ladies now dispensed with overshoes, and kid slippers were sported without a reproach from careful mammas “If it rains, I'll send a cab for you. I've just sent around for one; I'm going to the head of the street;" so the young lady glanced with an inconceivable degree of satisfaction at the neatly slippered foot, and mamma drove off to do her shopping. But an ebb came to the tide of popularity. Men of business found they could walk from "the wharf to the depot," almost as soon, and quite as cheaply, as they could ride; and housekeepers could not afford it, while the help broke so many tumblers. Young ladies, aroused to arithmetical calculation, suddenly discovered that four sixpences made a quarter of a dollar, which would go some way towards the purchase of a new neck-ribbon. So, from being constantly in demand—a passenger became a rara avis, and at last two of the three were laid by, and "the solitary survivor" was employed mainly, as we have seen, in conveying married ladies and their little ones, 66 out to spend the afternoon;" bringing Mrs. Folger and the children up street on a visit-Mrs. Miller down, when it returned,—and

again rolling northward with Mrs. Utley. See you not our moral, most philosophical reader? Public patronage is not a whit more stable now than when the populace in olden times shouted one day for their king—the next for his murderer and

successor.

But to return to Mrs. Harden's parlour, which was so unceremoniously deserted. Mrs. Utley is by this time quite at home there-Bobby's mother is nicely warmed, and Bobby himself has gone tranquilly to sleep. Misses Susan and Sarah Ann are charitably furnishing employment for the man who tunes Miss Harriet's piano. Henry Utley is devoted to the kitten, and his baby brother sits on his mother's lap, resisting all Miss Harriet's entreaties to "Come, there's a darling" with slight kicks, and the exclamations "No, I wont-keep away!"

The ladies' knitting-work saw the light, and their tongues found motion, as a kind of running accompaniment to the sharp click which rose industriously above the din of the children.

Mrs. Folger thought it was a very open winter, and she "shouldn't be surprised if the river broke up next week.”

Mrs. Utley was afraid not; her husband had said, at dinner, that they crossed with teams in the morning; the ice must be pretty sound yet. Harriet gave brother John's opinion that the channel would not be clear of ice before the first of April. Miss Harriet, be it observed, was one of those people who-perhaps it is that their words are often doubted-always give the best of references; pa, ma or John being made responsible for innumerable bits of gossip, that would doubtless have astonished these good people, had they reached their ears. Innumerable were the topics that received similar treatment—not to be hinted at, the many important secrets communicated with the preface of

"Don't mention it for the world, from me!" and interrupted by exclamations of "Do tell!" "No?" and the like. At length there was silence-comparative silence that is, for the children were as industrious as ever. Mrs. Harden stepped out a minute to tell Hannah, for the fortieth time, to be careful of the china, and as the door closed behind her, a bright face passed the window-and lo, another theme.

"If there isn't Mary Butler again!"—said one of the ladies, as the three looked after her retreating form.

"That girl's always in the street!"

"So John says!"

But horror for the moment suspended speech, and raised six hands simultaneously.

"Did you ever see the like?"

"She called him back, didn't she?"

"Yes, he had got to Stone's store."

"Well, I don't wonder he looks strange-just to see her shaking her finger at him, just as if she'd known him all her life, and to my certain knowledge, she never saw him before Mrs. Jackson's party; but when girls are in the street all the time, what can be expected?" Mrs. Folger drew a long sigh, and shook her head ominously.

Here Mrs. Harden returned, and was made acquainted with the important fact-all the witnesses speaking at once. that Mary Butler was going up street (for the third time this week, and it's only Wednesday)—and met Mr. Jorden just by the bank. He bowed very coldly (didn't he?) and was going on, when Mary Butler called him back, and they stood laughing and talking for as much as five minutes before she let him go. Miss Harriet, who had known him so long-a bowing acquaintance,

of a year's standing-wouldn't have dreamed of doing such a thing. Her mother hoped not-no, certainly, such an imprudent thing!

The gentlemen came in before the wonder had fairly subsided, and the interesting intelligence was duly reported. How provoking Mr. Folger was! He could not see anything at all remarkable in the affair; perhaps they were old friends! and Mr. Harden would insist that Mary Butler had an undoubted right to go up street as often as she chose. But men are always so queer -they never suspect! There was more going on than some people thought for; the ladies all agreed they should hear from that quarter again.

And so they did, for just as Hannah called them to tea, Harriet directed their attention to the window, with many a silent sign toward that corner of the room in which the gentlemen were discussing the projected river road; and there in the uncertain. twilight of early spring, they saw-just as sure as you are reading this page-they saw Mary Butler going down street, and Mr. Jorden walking with her! Miss Harriet declared it was very hard to see why some people were so much in the street, in a manner that said as plainly as possible, that she thought it extremely lucid; and added that "she'd like to have brother John see her walking that way with Mr. Jorden," intimating that if he did, it would be the last time she'd get out that winter!

Perhaps it is worth while to remark, that Mr. Jorden was one of the eligibles of Rivertown, and Mary Butler was a poor girl, with no income save that earned by a needle, which was probably the reason why it was so very improper, in the eyes of Miss Harriet, for her to be more than a speaking acquaintance to the "best match in town."

Miss Harriet, by the way, had often