great thing is the livery, but I want to come regularly up to that,
and forget nothing by the way. I was uncertain for a long time how to
have my prayer-book bound. Finally, after thinking about it a great
deal, I concluded to have it done in pale blue velvet, with gold
clasps, and a gold cross upon the side. To be sure, it's nothing very
new. But what _is_ new now-a-days? Sally Shrimp has had hers done
in emerald, and I know Mrs. Croesus will have crimson for hers, and
those people who sits next us in church (I wonder who they are; it's
very unpleasant to sit next to people you don't know; and, positively,
that girl, the dark-haired one with large eyes, carries the same muff
she did last year; it's big enough for a family) have a kind of brown
morocco binding. I must tell you one reason why I fixed upon the
pale-blue. You know that aristocratic-looking young man, in white
cravat and black pantaloons and waistcoat, whom we saw at Saratoga a
year ago, and who always had such a beautiful sanctimonious look, and
such small white hands; well, he is a minister, as we supposed, "an
unworthy candidate, and unprofitable husbandman," as he calls himself
in that delicious voice of his. He has been quite taken up among
us. He has been asked a good deal to dinner, and there was hope of his
being settled as colleague to the Doctor, only Mr. Potiphar (who can
be stubborn, you know) insisted that the Rev. Cream Cheese, though a
very good young man, he didn't doubt, was addicted to candlesticks. I
suppose that's something awful. But, could you believe anything awful
of him? I asked Mr. Potiphar what he meant by saying such things.

"I mean," said he, "that he's a Puseyite, and I've no idea of being
tied to the apron-strings of the Scarlet Woman."

Dear Caroline, who _is_ the Scarlet Woman? Dearest, tell me,
upon your honor, if you have ever heard any scandal of Mr. Potiphar?