patient for that heavenly life. She then sang a verse of Mr. Bryant's hymn :

"O! there are days of sunny rest,

For every dark and troubled night!"

These were her last words. Her voice fell like a sinking breeze, and as we glanced at her again, we found she had passed away.

The scene which followed I need not detain the reader to describe. The father had been forgiven the errors of his evil life, and the trouble he had inflicted on that devoted heart, and he needed not to have asked those mute lips to forgive him again. The children were in the care of friends, who would not see them suffer any more, but it was no wonder they thought the last friend was dead when Rachel expired, and feared everything that a remembrance of hunger, cold, nakedness, and bereavement could bring. We had none of us reason to wish that freed spirit to return, nor to weep over its liberation, and yet we grieved deeply for our loss, and our tears were warm and many. Our dear Rachel Wilbur was buried by the side of her mother, and was followed to her grave by many loving friends.

XXII.

I KNOW not that there was a single class of artisans who did not suffer from this unexpected crisis, for even the seamstresses and shoe and bookbinders experienced good or evil days, as the factories prospered or declined. And sorry am I to say, that a few families did a great deal to reduce the wages of seamstresses, binders, braiders, and others, by taking work home and doing it at any price which manufacturers would give. I have already mentioned those who took it from Hickory Hall in this way. I have mentioned Miss Puffit, and the lace and jewelry she was going to purchase with money received for work. This fashion, I believe, became more prevalent with a certain set, as work grew scarce, and wages declined. There was a great rage for watches at this time; nothing as cheap as fifty dollars would answer for a watch, and the fashion said it must be earned by sewing, or braiding, and not purchased by any rich papa's money. This fashion was introduced and maintained, as it appeared to us, without any care for the sufferings and oppressions it would cause. It was supported by many who desired to be regarded as the aristocracy of Merrimack Miss Puffit followed the example, notwithstanding all her mother's

protests and entreaties, and her father indulged her on the ground that other girls did so, and Bell must not act singular, or be outdone.

About this time, Mr. I. Newton Puffit allowed his daughter to give a great party to what they called the elite of the town. Mrs. Puffit protested against it, when there was so much suffering around them, and she needed more means to relieve the poor she visited. Furthermore, she said, they were not able to give such parties as Bell's associates were making, and would expect, and she should be very unhappy, if they went against her wishes this time. But Mr. Puffit saw many reasons for crossing her dear wishes. He regarded the affair from a worldly point of view, and judged that nothing could contribute more to his reputation, or secure a better influence for Hickory Hall. There should be an author and artist or two invited; and if Gen. Buzbee, Prof. Bounce, the dancing master, Dr. Mushroom, inventor and proprietor of the celebrated Passamaquoddy Mixture and Killorcureall Pills; G. Washington Pinchbeck, Esq., the Rev. A. Sweet Prettyman, and a few other prominent gentlemen, with their ladies, could be induced to attend, the affair would be so much the more respectable, and so much more would be done to convince the world that the word Puffit expressed nothing of his character or fame.

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A few members of the press should also be invited, and their reports would be filled with eulogy and exclamation. "Our gentlemanly host, his lady-like wife, and splendid daughter," would be mentioned, and every dress, every display, all the courses of the supper, and the dis

tinguished guests, would be complimented, and this would render the position of the family more certain and conspicuous, and hundreds would for the first time learn who I. Newton Puffit was.

Mrs. Puffit still protested against the party, and against many of the guests her husband spoke of inviting, and repeated, that she should feel grieved and injured if it were given. But all her arguments and protests went for nothing, when another family promised Mr. Puffit that they would give the next party, and invite some of their Newport acquaintances, if he would take the lead.

This family were no particular favorites of that good woman, but Arabella and her father liked them, and sought every means to secure their alliance, and she was at last compelled to yield her consent and hold her peace.

And as this family ranked themselves with the highest, and took a leading part in many great affairs, I may be pardoned if I introduce them to my readers. Their name was Keezle: they were a numerous family, and their history, if brief, is not without its interest and lesson. Mr. Keezle commenced life as clerk of a porter-house in a dark quarter of the town, and his wife sold cigars in a corner of the market. By-and-by he rented a grocery, and sold liquor and oysters on his own account. They were married, and he opened a liquor saloon and oyster stalls, and she did the cooking for the establishment. Their business was very prosperous, and finally they opened a splendid house called the "Mount Vernon Shades," and had full-length portraits of Washington and Lafayette on the right and left of the street-door, with an

affable smile and courteous bow, pointing customers into "The Shades." This place they conducted about a dozen years, and retired (with a hundred thousand dollars, and with the office of Sheriff, which Mr. Keezle's party gave him,) to a magnificent villa just over the county line, (where the sheriff's sheriffalty lay) within a convenient distance of the city.

The Keezles had a son at college, and their eldest daughter had returned from boarding-school, (as "Betsey Baker" did)" with a finished education."

Mr. Keezle was one of your jolly-faced worldlings, and at first he made me think of Santa Claus, as Clement Moore describes him, and afterwards he reminded me still more of a little alabaster image with a squatted lump of a body, a flattened head, and shining face, which the sea captains brought from India and set up in the Salem museum. He commonly wore a cloak, wrapped it around him with an air of prodigious consequence, and took a lordly, rolling step, when he entered church. He smoked prime cigars, and drove fast horses on the turnpikes, tossing his change or ticket haughtily to the toll-women as he hurried like a whirlwind past, and always told them to pick it up.

He was sometimes heard to say he "hated the whole caboodle of the clargy," and yet he supported meetings, and insisted on having a loud voice in all church business, and I fancied that more than one clergyman rather courted his favor, were quickly apprised of all his afflictions, visited him, and were glad enough to take the tempting sums he contributed to their churches. He was not often ad