CHAPTER XIII.

CITY ACQUAINTANCES.

MRS. WHATELY was expecting her young friends, and received them with the greatest cordiality. Her house was large, and situated in one of the finest streets in Boston. Medad looked at the various articles of rich furniture with wondering eyes. The first opportunity that Beulah had to see him alone was after dinner. She begged him not to gaze about quite so much, and by no means to ask any questions.

"That is too good, Beulah, advising me just as if you had always lived in the city," said Medad, laughing. "And I should have thought really you had, by the way you dipped your fingers into those colored glasses and wiped them on the napkin; for my part, I could n't think what they were for, and should just as likely have taken a

drink, if I had n't see you go through with the operation. And then, that fork with four prongs bothered me, but you handled it as if you never had used any thing but a silver fork in your life."

"It only needs a little observation to be able to change in these small things from what we have been accustomed to at home,” said Beulah. "What beautiful pictures these are."

"Yes; they are, and this is a fine house, but our folks could buy house and all, if they wanted it," replied Medad, walking to and fro in the splendid apartment, without the least consciousness of inferiority, because he had not always trodden upon a Wilton carpet. who

Medad was one

"Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, And think it kindness to his Majesty."

The next day, Mrs. Whately, not being well, was unable to go out with Medad and Beulah. She gave them very particular directions that they need not loose their way amid the intricacies of Boston, a perfect labyrinth to strangers, and they started for a stroll in Washington Street.

Medad, entirely satisfied with his suit of butternut-brown, made by the country tailor, walked

leisurely along, looking in at the shop windows. At length he stopped before one, saying, "What beautiful trinkets, and splendid watches! Come, Beulah, let us go in here."

"If you wish to make a purchase, I will go in with you, but not otherwise," replied Beulah.

But Medad, without replying, was already within. He inquired the price of their watches, and the man carelessly answered, "Some are two hundred and some three hundred."

"Well, Sir, but have n't you any for less than that. I want a good time-piece, a plain, good one, suitable for a farmer," said Medad. "There's one, now, what's the price of that?

"Fifty dollars."

Medad looked at it awhile, and then whispered to his sister, "Do you think that would fit the watch-case?"

"I should think it would, exactly," she answered.

"Then that's the watch for me. I'll take it, Sir, if you'll put a key to it." And he handed out fifty dollars. He had been laying it by for some time, to be able to fill the beloved watch

case.

They then sauntered along, Medad making his

remarks upon all whom they met in an under tone to Beulah.

“There, now, what do you call that walk, - that girl coming towards us with the yellow bonnet and red feather flying off half a yard, and all those curls. I should call it the diddlecum-twiddle. Did you ever see such a jerking and twitching to make progress forward?"

Beulah looked at the girl with the long, light curls hanging down each side to her waist, and as she did so they were quite near her. Medad began bowing and smiling. The girl raised her eye-glass, and, looking at him through it, said to her companion, in the most affected tone, "What microscopic insect is that? I am certain I never saw it before."

"Miss Harriet Ann Gunn, I believe," said Medad, perfectly undaunted. "Can you tell me what has become of Miss Zephina Fanshaw?”

"I do not know any such person," said the girl, hurrying on with all her might.

"You must be mistaken," said Beulah. "That could not be Harriet Ann."

"Mistaken! I should know her among ten thousand. How provoking that she should tell such a falsehood! Fine feathers, it seems, do n't

--- we

always make fine birds. Keep a look out, may meet Zephina. Do you suppose she, too, would n't know us?".

"I do n't know, indeed, for I am told that people here often forget those they have known in the country, but I do not believe Zephina would ever forget old friends."

When Beulah related this little adventure to Mrs. Whately, the good lady was quite amused to find that her young friends had never heard of "cutting an acquaintance." She told them it was a vulgar practice that some persons had who must be very doubtful of their own respectability, since it depended entirely upon that of their acquaintances.

"You may rely upon it," said she, "that no one cuts an acquaintance, who is perfectly contented with her position in the world. She has no reason to do so, for if the person she chances to meet is above her, she bows with respect, and without envy; if below, still with politeness, and without a condescending, patronizing air. It is therefore more than probable that this girl would not be a suitable acquaintance for us."

After passing a few days in Boston, and seeing much that was worthy of a stranger's notice, Me