"The Codfish, Miss Wayland; straight from Boston State-House. Admire
my tail, please! I got up at five o'clock this morning to finish it,
and I must confess I am proud of it."

She napped her tail, which was a truly astonishing one, made of
newspapers neatly plaited and sewed together, and wriggled her body,
clad in well-fitting scales of silver paper. "Quite a fish, I
flatter myself?" she said, insinuatingly.

"Very like a whale, if not like a codfish," said Miss Wayland,
laughing heartily. "You certainly are one of the successes of the
evening, Massachusetts, and the Mosquito is another, in that filmy
gray. Is that mosquito-netting, too? I congratulate you both on your
skill. By the way, what does Chicago represent? she is very effective,
with all those scarlet leaves. What are they, I wonder!"

Massachusetts turned hastily, and a low whistle came from her lips.
"Whew! I beg pardon, Miss Wayland. It was the codfish whistled, not I;
it's a way they have on Friday evenings. I told that girl to ask
Miss Flower about those leaves; I am afraid they are--oh, here is
Miss Flower!" as the good botany teacher came towards them, rather
out of breath after her playing.

"Miss Flower, what are those leaves, please? those in Chicago's hair,
and on her dress."

Miss Flower looked, and her cheerful face grew grave.

"_Rhus veneneta_" she said; "poison dogwood."