average of city milk than with the average of country coffee. Fresh
air is very desirable; but the air on the bleak hills of the Hudson
in March is at times a trifle too fresh. The pure snow as it lies on
field, and fence, and tree, is beautiful, I confess. But when one
goes out to walk, it is convenient to have the sidewalks shoveled.

At least that is what I used to think five years ago. And if my wife
had endeavored to argue me out of my convictions, she would only
have strengthened them. But my wife:--

Stop a minute. I may as well say here that this book is written in
confidence. It is personal. It deals with the interior history of a
very respectable church and some most respectable families. It
contains a great deal that is not proper to be communicated to the
public. The reader will please bear this in mind. Whatever I say,
particularly what I am going to say now, is confidential. Don't
mention it.

My wife is a diplomate. If ever I am president of the United
States--which may Heaven forbid,--she shall be secretary of State. She
never argues; but she always carries her point.

She always lets me have my own way without hinting an objection. But
it always ends in her having her own. She would have made no
objection to letting Mason and Slidell go--not the least in the
world. But she would have somehow induced England to entreat us to
take them back--I am sure of it. She would not have dismissed
Catacazy--not she. But if she did not like Catacazy, Gortschakoff
should have recalled him, and never known why he did it.