She is preceded by her eldest daughter, already a young lady, as a sort of armor-bearer. Her youngest child, "Ella," follows sprucely at her heels, like a page. And so, up and down Broadway, sails Fanny Fern, proud, haughty, ambitious, scorned by some, admired by many-loved by few.

FANNY AT THE TREMONT HOUSE.

1OOD John Walter is Fanny's man-at-arms. He

GOOD

is the last and most faithful of her servants. She needs some person in that capacity, and shrewdly manages never to be without such a champion. She was fortunate, after many trials, in falling upon so choice an acquisition as John Walter.

Fanny cannot be accused of choosing her champion from any such motive as personal beauty. John isn't alarmingly handsome-not half so beautiful as he is good. Of tall and gaunt figure, with a lean-and-hungry-Cassius look, bran-like eyes, an oyster-like open to his mouth, fiery hair, an incendiary whisker, a windy manner of talking, and a gaseous atmosphere pervading his person generally-oh, no! Fanny couldn't have chosen John for his beauty.

John's championship never shone with more dazzling lustre, than on his visit to Boston, in her train, last summer. He came like the very Napoleon of snobs. Boston was to be taken by storm. "The three-hilled city," said John, “shall bow down at our coming." "John," answered Fanny, "I regard you as a prophet. You are a man of The three hills shall bow down."

sense.

They fortified themselves in the Sebastopol of the Tremont House,--that stronghold so formidable to turkey,--and sent forth their proclamations. But, somehow, there was no movement of the three-hilled city. Not a block trembled. Not a brick stirred. Fanny began to chafe. In vain she searched the columns of the daily papers, to find complimentary notices of her arrival. Not a word on the subject. She, who expected a triumph equal to Jenny Lind's, found herself of no more account in the three-hilled city, whose duty it was to bow down, than the wife of John Smith, the joiner, who went on at the same time to hunt up a second cousin.

Meanwhile good John Walter exerted himself. In his windiest manner, he thrust that lank figure of his into every nook and corner, where he hoped to generate a little interest in his famous protégée,

"She's come!" whispered John mysteriously, in the ear of an influential editor.

"Ha!" said the editor, "has she?" and went on with his writing.

"She is at the Tremont House," resumed John, with an air of vast importance, "where she receives her friends. The rush to see her is very great, and we have to resort to every means to keep the multitude at bay. You, of course, would be a privileged one, and I should be happy to introduce you."

"Thank you," said the editor, as he dipped his

pen.

"Do you know," --John began to bluster-"there are vipers in human form, in this city, who have dared to sting that woman's reputation?"

"I know nothing of the kind," replied the editor.

"You ought to know it; and I am authorized to say this: Fanny expects her friends to vindicate her character, and crush these vipers. There is that rascal, Mr. Blank"

"Mr. Blank is a friend of mine, sir."

"But "--John waxed bombastic--" You cannot be a friend of his and a friend of Fanny Fern's!

He said, in his paper, that she has a husband

"Which is true, I believe," remarked the editor, quietly.

"But sir"-here John choked

"she is a

woman, and no gentleman will make remarks of the kind about a WOMAN,-a woman, sir, is sacred; and Fanny Fern is one of the noblest of her sex. From your character as an editor and a man, I had every reason to believe that you would not hesitate to espouse her cause

"Mr. Walter," interrupted the editor, “your assumption is somewhat astounding, but it has not quite taken away my breath-I have still a modest word to say. I do not see that it is my duty to go and cudgel Mr. Blank, nor do I consider the inducement you hold out, quite sufficient to authorize me to engage in any quarrels except my own. I will not trouble you to introduce me to Miss Fern. I wish you a good morning, sir!"

John varied his manner with different people. To some he was insinuating and smooth; to others, bluff and lowering; but all his efforts were unsuccessful. Nobody would go and whip Mr. Blank; nobody cared much about meeting Fanny Fern. And here let us not be misunderstood. It was no fault of John's, that he did not succeed. He was