extend the circle of the dance. I'm sure Mrs. P. is right. She does
very right to ask, "Have we no social duties, I should like to know?"

And when we have performed these social duties in Gnu's house, how
mean it is, how "it looks," not to build a larger house for him and
Mrs. Gnu to come and perform their social duties in. I give it up.
There's no doubt of it.

One day Polly said to me:

"Mr. Potiphar, we're getting down town."

"What do you mean, my dear?"

"Why, everybody is building above us, and there are actually shops in
the next street. Singe, the pastry-cook, has hired Mrs. Croesus's old
house."

"I know it. Old Croesus told me so some time ago; and he said how
sorry he was to go. 'Why, Potiphar,' said he, 'I really hoped when I
built there, that I should stay, and not go out of the house, finally,
until I went into no other. I have lived there long enough to love the
place, and have some associations with it; and my family have grown up
in it, and love the old house too. It was our _home_. When any of
us said 'home' we meant not the family only, but the house in which
the family lived, where the children were all born, and where two have
died, and my old mother, too. I'm in a new house now, and have lost my
reckoning entirely. I don't know the house; I've no associations with
it. The house is new, the furniture is new, and my feelings are
new. It's a farce for me to begin again, in this way. But my wife