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age, has, as usual, a little story to tell. This time it is about a French lady who said to her sister, "I do not know how it is, my sister, but I meet with nobody but myself who is always in the right." Just what this had to do with the Constitution does not appear, but they all laughed at the old man's joke, and cheered him heartily when he declared that he had finally made 7 up his mind that the carving upon the back of the Speaker's chair was a “rising sun," although he had had serious doubts about it in darker days.

If a painting were to be made of these statesmen gathered together in the old hall, it would seem incomplete without the scholarly and refined face of Francis Hopkinson. Although not a delegate to the Convention, he contributed much to its success by his poems, allegories, and satires, carrying in that small head, which John Adams described as not bigger than a large apple, a vast amount of literary and legal lore, and withal no end of quips and quirks and witticisms. But the pen grows garrulous with reminiscences, from

which we turn to hope that the old building may ever be preserved, an honored memorial, to which may come in all generations those who would renew their patriotism and strengthen their faith in the best that belongs to humanity. A shrine is this, more sacred than the graves of heroes, because this is a monument to principles which are even greater than the men who fought in their defence.

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"One did commend me to a wife both fair and young That had French, Spanish, and Italian tongue.

I thanked him kindly and told him I loved none of such, For I thought one tongue for a wife too much.

What! love ye not the learned?

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A learned scholar, but not a learned wife."

SURELY some crabbed bachelor, heavily fined for remaining in the single state from which no fair lady would help him

to escape, had composed this venomous doggerel for Ann Wing, aged thirteen, to perpetuate with painstaking stitches. How glad she must have been to turn from it to execute in colored silks the impossible roses and trees that illuminate her beautifully worked sampler!

Hannah Head, who was probably as fond of bright colors as any other Quaker child, inveighs upon her square of canvas against those who

"Court to be decked in rich attire

With gold spread, that others may admire,"

insisting in all colors of the rainbow that

"They in whose noble heart true virtue dwells, Need not so much adorn their outward shells."

Poor little girls! such words seem strangely unsuited to your years and experience. We can only hope that your lives were brighter than they seem to us as we look back upon them. This hope is encouraged by the fact that Miss Winslow, a regular attendant of the Old South, was allowed to take part in an entertain

ment where there was dancing, and where the "treat was nuts, raisins, cakes, wine, punch, hot and cold, all in great plenty." The publication of the diary of this Boston school-girl of 1771 throws a more attractive light upon child-life in New England, and leads us to believe that there were others besides Anna Winslow who filled their home letters with descriptions of their innocent pleasures and girlish vanities, even if they, like her, dutifully quoted the text and gave their opinions upon the parson's discourse. After all, girl hearts beat high then as now, and were as quick to respond to the touch of joy or love. Courtship and marriage came so early in those days that the little maids had scarcely finished their samplers and folded them away before they had to take them out again to copy the letters upon the linen for their bridal outfits.

With all the seeming repression of childlife, and the great outward deference shown to the wishes of parents, there seems to have been considerable independence in loveaffairs among young women in Colonial

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