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our mortal； experience。 We mast wait。 The Teacups will meet once
more before the circle is broken； and we may； perhaps； find the
solution of the question we have raised。
In the mean time； our young Doctor is playing truant oftener than
ever。 He has brought Avis；if we must call her so； and not
Delilah；several times to take tea with us。 It means something； in
these days； to graduate from one of our first…class academies or
collegiate schools。 I shall never forget my first visit to one of
these institutions。 How much its pupils know； I said； which I was
never taught； and have never learned！ I was fairly frightened to see
what a teaching apparatus was provided for them。 I should think the
first thing to be done with most of the husbands； they are likely to
get would be to put them through a course of instruction。 The young
wives must find their lords wofully ignorant； in a large proportion
of cases。 When the wife has educated the husband to such a point
that she can invite him to work out a problem in the higher
mathematics or to perform a difficult chemical analysis with her as
his collaborator； as less instructed dames ask their husbands to play
a game of checkers or backgammon； they can have delightful and
instructive evenings together。 I hope our young Doctor will take
kindly to his wife's （that is to be） teachings。
When the following verses were taken out of the urn； the Mistress
asked me to hand the manuscript to the young Doctor to read。 I
noticed that he did not keep his eyes very closely fixed on the
paper。 It seemed as if he could have recited the lines without
referring to the manuscript at all。
AT THE TURN OF THE ROAD。
The glory has passed from the goldenrod's plume；
The purple…hued asters still linger in bloom；
The birch is bright yellow； the sumachs are red；
The maples like torches aflame overhead。
But what if the joy of the summer is past；
And winter's wild herald is blowing his blast？
For me dull November is sweeter than May；
For my love is its sunshine；she meets me to…day！
Will she come？ Will the ring…dove return to her nest？
Will the needle swing back from the east or the west？
At the stroke of the hour she will be at her gate；
A friend may prove laggard；love never comes late。
Do I see her afar in the distance？ Not yet。
Too early！ Too early！ She could not forget！
When I cross the old bridge where the brook overflowed；
She will flash full in sight at the turn of the road。
I pass the low wall where the ivy entwines；
I tread the brown pathway that leads through the pines；
I haste by the boulder that lies in the field；
Where her promise at parting was lovingly sealed。
Will she come by the hillside or round through the wood？
Will she wear her brown dress or her mantle and hood？
The minute draws near；but her watch may go wrong；
My heart will be asking； What keeps her so long？
Why doubt for a moment？ More shame if I do！
Why question？ Why tremble？ Are angels more true？
She would come to the lover who calls her his own
Though she trod in the track of a whirling cyclone！
I crossed the old bridge ere the minute had passed。
I looked： lo！ my Love stood before me at last。
Her eyes； how they sparkled； her cheeks； how they glowed；
As we met； face to face； at the turn of the road！
XII
There was a great tinkling of teaspoons the other evening； when I
took my seat at the table； where ail The Teacups were gathered before
my entrance。 The whole company arose； and the Mistress； speaking for
them； expressed the usual sentiment appropriate to such occasions。
〃Many happy returns〃 is the customary formula。 No matter if the
object of this kind wish is a centenarian； it is quite safe to assume
that he is ready and very willing to accept as many more years as the
disposing powers may see fit to allow him。
The meaning of it all was that this was my birthday。 My friends；
near and distant； had seen fit to remember it； and to let me know in
various pleasant ways that they had not forgotten it。 The tables
were adorned with flowers。 Gifts of pretty and pleasing objects were
displayed on a side table。 A great green wreath； which must have
cost the parent oak a large fraction of its foliage； was an object of
special admiration。 Baskets of flowers which had half unpeopled
greenhouses； large bouquets of roses； fragrant bunches of pinks； and
many beautiful blossoms I am not botanist enough to name had been
coming in upon me all day long。 Many of these offerings were brought
by the givers in person； many came with notes as fragrant with good
wishes as the flowers they accompanied with their natural perfumes。
How old was I； The Dictator； once known by another equally audacious
title；I； the recipient of all these favors and honors？ I had
cleared the eight…barred gate； which few come in sight of； and fewer；
far fewer； go over； a year before。 I was a trespasser on the domain
belonging to another generation。 The children of my coevals were
fast getting gray and bald； and their children beginning to look upon
the world as belonging to them； and not to their sires and
grandsires。 After that leap over the tall barrier； it looks like a
kind of impropriety to keep on as if one were still of a reasonable
age。 Sometimes it seems to me almost of the nature of a misdemeanor
to be wandering about in the preserve which the fleshless gamekeeper
guards so jealously。 But； on the other hand； I remember that men of
science have maintained that the natural life of man is nearer
fivescore than threescore years and ten。 I always think of a
familiar experience which I bring from the French cafes； well known
to me in my early manhood。 One of the illustrated papers of my
Parisian days tells it pleasantly enough。
A guest of the establishment is sitting at his little table。 He has
just had his coffee； and the waiter is serving him with his petit
verre。 Most of my readers know very well what a petit verre is； but
there may be here and there a virtuous abstainer from alcoholic
fluids； living among the bayberries and the sweet ferns； who is not
aware that the words； as commonly used； signify a small glassa very
small glassof spirit； commonly brandy； taken as a chasse…caf？； or
coffee…chaser。 This drinking of brandy； 〃neat；〃 I may remark by the
way； is not quite so bad as it looks。 Whiskey or rum taken unmixed
from a tumbler is a knock…down blow to temperance； but the little
thimbleful of brandy； or Chartreuse； or Maraschino； is only； as it
were； tweaking the nose of teetotalism。
Well；to go back behind our brackets；the guest is calling to the
waiter； 〃Garcon！ et le bain de pieds！ 〃Waiter！ and the foot…bath！
The little glass stands in a small tin saucer or shallow dish； and
the custom is to more than fill the glass； so that some extra brandy
rung over into this tin saucer or cup…plate； to the manifest gain of
the consumer。
Life is a petit verre of a very peculiar kind of spirit。 At seventy
years it used to be said that the little glass was full。 We should
be more apt to put it at eighty in our day； while Gladstone and
Tennyson and our own Whittier are breathing； moving； thinking；
writing； speaking； in the green preserve belonging to their children
and grandchildren； and Bancroft is keeping watch of the gamekeeper in
the distance。 But； returning resolutely to the petit verre； I am
willing to concede that all after fourscore is the bain de pieds；
the slopping over； so to speak； of the full measure of life。 I
remember that one who was very near and dear to me； and who lived to
a great age； so that the ten…barred gate of the century did not look
very far off； would sometimes apologize in a very sweet； natural way
for lingering so long to be a care and perhaps a burden to her
children； themselves getting well into years。 It is not hard to
understand the feeling； never less called for than it was in the case
of that beloved nonagenarian。 I have known few persons； young or
old； more sincerely and justly regretted than the gentle lady whose
memory comes up before me as I write。
Oh； if we could all go out of flower as gracefully； as pleasingly； as
we come into blossom！ I always think of the morning…glory as the
loveliest example of a graceful yielding to the inevitable。 It is
beautiful before its twisted corolla opens； it is comely as it folds
its petals inward； when its brief hours of perfection are over。
Women find it easier than men to grow old in a becoming way。 A very
old lady who has kept something； it may be a great deal； of her
youthful feelings； who is daintily cared for； who is grateful for the
attentions bestowed upon her； and enters into the spirit of the young
lives that surround her； is as precious to those who love her as a
gem in an antique setting； the fashion of which has long gone by； but
which leaves the jewel th