“G. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions.
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