making up in starch and studs what they lost in color, while all
were more or less Byronic as to collar.

On the platform appeared a pile of dumb-bells, a regiment of clubs,
and a pyramid of bean-bags, and stirring nervously among them a
foreign-looking gentleman, the new leader of a class lately formed
by Dr. Thor Turner, whose mission it was to strengthen the world's
spine, and convert it to a belief in air and exercise, by setting it
to balancing its poles and spinning merrily, while enjoying the
"Sun-cure" on a large scale. His advent formed an epoch in the
history of the town; for it was a quiet old village, guiltless of
bustle, fashion, or parade, where each man stood for what he was;
and, being a sagacious set, every one's true value was pretty
accurately known. It was a neighborly town, with gossip enough to
stir the social atmosphere with small gusts of interest or wonder,
yet do no harm. A sensible, free-and-easy town, for the wisest man
in it wore the worst boots, and no one thought the less of his
understanding; the belle of the village went shopping with a big
sun-bonnet and tin pail, and no one found her beauty lessened;
oddities of all sorts ambled peacefully about on their various
hobbies, and no one suggested the expediency of a trip on the wooden
horse upon which the chivalrous South is always eager to mount an
irrepressible abolitionist. Restless people were soothed by the
lullaby the river sang in its slow journey to the sea, old people
found here a pleasant place to make ready to die in, young people to
survey the world from, before taking their first flight, and
strangers looked back upon it, as a quiet nook full of ancient
legends and modern lights, which would keep its memory green when
many a gayer spot was quite forgotten. Anything based upon common
sense found favor with the inhabitants, and Dr. Turner's theories,