"She is every where," replied the Artist.
"Why," said the Statesman, examining his mental memoranda, "she died two centuries ago."
"She is perennial," answered the Artist, and the Statesman inwardly cursed his own literal perceptives.
"Let's take our sentiment when we are there," suggested the Editor; "this is the hour for action."
The conversation which ensued need not be detailed here. It would consume so much ink and paper as materially to raise the price of these staples. It is sufficient to say that the quartette silenced forever the calumnious statement that only ladies talk two or three at a time, and that the necessary supplies decided upon for the trip exceeded in bulk the cargo of that most capacious vessel, the Mayflower.
The Authors.