a fair representative of our first families. She has taken up her
position on the upper deck, in front of the wheel house. As one
after another the objects of beauty that make grand the environs of
that noble Bay, open to her astonished eyes, she contrasts them
favorably or unfavorably with some familiar object in Charleston
harbor. There is indeed a similarity in the conformation. And though
ours, she says, may not be so extensive, nor so grand in its
outlines, nor so calm and soft in its perspective, there is a more
aristocratic air about it. Smaller bodies are always more select and
respectable. The captain, to whom she has put an hundred and one
questions which he answers in monosyllables, is not, she thinks, so
much of a gentleman as he might have been had he been educated in
Charleston. He makes no distinction in favor of people of rank.

Lady Swiggs wears that same faded silk dress; her black crape
bonnet, with two saucy red artificial flowers tucked in at the side,
sits so jauntily; that dash of brown hair is smoothed so exactly
over her yellow, shrivelled forehead; her lower jaw oscillates with
increased motion; and her sharp, gray eyes, as before, peer
anxiously through her great-eyed spectacles. And, generous reader,
that you may not mistake her, she has brought her inseparable
Milton, which she holds firmly grasped in her right hand. "You have
had a tedious time of it, Madam," says a corpulent lady, who is
extensively dressed and jewelled, and accosts her with a familiar
air. Lady Swiggs says not so tedious as it might have been, and
gives her head two or three very fashionable twitches.

"Your name, if you please?"

"The Princess Grouski. My husband, the Prince Grouski," replies the