"There, I thought so!" "What an object!" "Forcing herself into genteel
society, too!" "The audacity of these creatures is perfectly horrid."

It was BELINDA'S turn to choose next, and she pointed straight at the
man she wanted, and said:

"JEFFRY MAULBOY."

It was natural she should choose him, for he was greatly respected by
all present, and the ladies especially regarded him as simply a hero;
for he was one of the Great Masters in the noble Art of Muscle.

Let me explain.

At the time of which I write, there had been a contest in the
Universities of America between Brains and Muscle, and the latter had
conquered. Brains were accounted a very good thing in their way, but
what we want, sir, is Muscle. If a man can master his Greek, and his
Latin, and his Theology, and his Law, and such frothy trifles between
times, well and good, but he musn't neglect his Muscle.

And so base-ball clubs were organized, and the Long Heels challenged the
Short Heels, and the leading journals published cards of defiance from
the Knockers to the Hitters, together with labored editorials on the
same. And boat-races and sculling matches were set on foot, and once a
year the students repaired with their friends to a city afflicted with a
lake, where, pending the contest, they organized a Reign of Terror,
during which the harmless inhabitants locked themselves in their houses
and clasped their offspring to their bosoms, or gazed terror-stricken
from an attic-window upon the classical marauders below, as they