side-board; never taking them out except to look at.

"Aunt Henshaw, did you ever see a lord?" I inquired.

"Plenty of them," was her reply, "lords were as thick as blackberries
during the Revolution."

"How did they look?" said I.

"Very much like other people--and often pretty distressed."

I was then surprised at this information, but I have since learned
better; for I have seen the House of Lords in England, and they are, for
the most part, a common, uninteresting-looking assembly.

"There was a Lord Spencer," continued my aunt, "a very wild young man,
who was constantly committing some prank or other--though always
strictly honorable in repairing any damages he occasioned. He once, for
mere sport, shot a fine colt, belonging to an old farmer, as he was
quietly grazing in the field. Even his companions remonstrated with him,
and endeavored to prevent the mischief; but he laid them a wager that he
should not only escape punishment, but that he would even make the old
farmer perfectly satisfied with his conduct. They accepted his bet, and
anxious to see how he would extricate himself, they accompanied him to
the residence of the old farmer.

"That is a very fine colt of yours," began the young lord, "I should
like to purchase him."

"He is not for sale," replied the farmer, shortly.