The kiss was given and received in silence, and James disappeared among the thick trees.
"Come, child," said Aunt Katy, looking in, "there is Deacon Twitchel's chaise in sight,—are you ready?"
"Yes, mother."
[To be continued.]
THE AUTOCRAT GIVES A BREAKFAST TO THE PUBLIC.
Before my friend the Professor takes his place at our old table, where, Providence permitting, he means to wish you all a happy New Year on or about the First of January next, I wish you to do me the favor of being my guests at the table which you see spread before you.
This table is a very long one. Legs in every Atlantic and inland city,—legs in California and Oregon,—legs on the shores of 'Quoddy and of Lake Pontchartrain,—legs everywhere, like a millipede or a banian-tree.
The schoolmistress that was,—and is,—(there are her little scholars at the side-table.)—shall pour out coffee or tea for you as you like.
Sit down and make yourselves comfortable.—A teaspoon, my dear, for Minnesota.—Sacramento's cup is out.