In the parlor of Mrs. Ruggles, which was also her kitchen and dining-hall,
hung a frame containing a seven-by-nine mirror, which was the frame's
excuse for being, although a compartment above and one below held squares
of glass covered with paint instead of mercury. The lower one was colored
like the contents of a wash-tub after a liberal use of indigo; and in the
centre was a horizontal stroke of red, surmounted by a perpendicular dash
of white, intersected by an oblique line of black--all of which
represented a red boat, with a white sail and black spar, making an
endless voyage across the lake of indigo. The black crosses in the sky
were birds. The black lines on the left were bulrushes. And among these
bulrushes a certain gloomy little object was either a Hebrew prophet or a
muskrat.

Above the mirror was painted a long-tailed coat, from behind which
extended a hand holding a bell-crowned hat, to whose scarlet lining the
holder seemed inviting the spectator's particular attention. There were
also a pair of legs and boots, a heavy shock of hair, a labyrinth of
neckcloth and a florid human face. Under the boots were the words,

MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE.

And the beholder was ever in doubt whether the marquis was trying to stand
exclusively upon this title or was unconsciously trampling it into the
ground.

Mrs. Ruggles admired this picture. Her knowledge of French was not great,
but her ear was delicate; and thinking the words "sounded handsome," she
had deliberately conferred them in full on her first-born. When in
good-humor she was content with calling him "Marquis-dee." In fact, it was