A RETURN 241 



charms of an altogether impossible person, only, 

 alas! to find out his fatal mistake too late. 



It was only too true : Dick was an ass, and my 

 first impressions were too likely to be true. Hang 

 the women ! hang 'em ! ! hang 'em ! ! ! 



In spite of my disgust, anger, and deep depres- 

 sion, I could not restrain a smile as I suddenly 

 beheld Gramp appear on his piazza across the 

 street, got up as Gramp generally gets himself 

 up on festal occasions, regardless, not of expense 

 but of appearances. He had put on an old- 

 fashioned black broadcloth coat with tails, - 

 one of those perfectly dreadful coats that make 

 a respectable man look like a composite picture 

 of a pirate, a Methodist parson of the old school 

 and a faro-dealer. He had neglected to change 

 his trousers, and wore an old pair of an inde- 

 scribable color, a sort of greenish brown gar- 

 nished with grease spots, and ending in an old 

 pair of shoes run down at the heel, cracked 

 across the tops and sides, and gray with ashes. 



The costume, topped by a rusty black felt hat 

 at a rakish angle on his snow-white hair, and 

 further ornamented by a new clay pipe, made 

 of the old gentleman a rather fierce but very fine- 

 looking old chap. 



Beside him sat two of Dick's aunts, as usual, 

 well and quietly dressed, and looking like thor- 

 oughbreds, all evidently conscious of the vital 



