being 'something of a figure.' Before bed-time I had a romp in the
garden with my wild brother and Charles Tracy; I experienced a feeling
of suffocation, while running through the paths, that became quite
insupportable.

"Why Amy!" exclaimed Charles as he grasped my arm, "What _is_ the
matter? you look quite black in the face!" They all gathered around me,
but unable to speak, I sank back into Charles Tracy's arms, and lost
all consciousness.

When I recovered, I found myself lying on my own little bed, with my
mother bending fondly over me--the cause of all this trouble on a chair
at my side--and Mammy, dear, good Mammy! regarding me with a puzzled
look of surprise.

"Why, she actually fainted!" whispered Jane, "just dead away, like any
grown person!"

"No," replied Mammy, "the child was dreadfully squeezed, and that took
away her breath. She'll kill herself next, with some of her capers!"

Mamma now made a sign for them to be quiet, and stooping down close to
my face, asked me how I felt. I tried to answer, "better;" but the words
almost choked me, and I still experienced a difficulty in breathing. The
evil consequences of this attempt at the graceful were but temporary,
however; and the next morning, as I sat up quite recovered, a discussion
took place between mamma and the old nurse on the propriety of
equipping me at once in corsets to improve my figure. I soon experienced
the delight of possessing a pair of my own; on which memorable occasion,
I resolved that, like the old woman, I would "neither borrow nor lend;"