The watchful "Advertiser" had not overlooked his appointment.

On the day the committees were announced it laid before its readers a cartoon depicting Bassett, seated at his desk in the senate, clutching wires that radiated to every seat in the lower house.

One desk set forth conspicuously in the foreground was inscribed "D.H." "The Lion and Daniel" was the tag affixed to this cartoon, which caused much merriment among Dan's friends at the round table of the University Club.
Miss Bassett's debut was fixed for Washington's Birthday, and as Mrs.
Owen's house had no ballroom (except one of those floored attics on which our people persist in bestowing that ambitious title) she decided that the Propylaeum alone would serve.

Pray do not reach for your dictionary, my friend! No matter how much Greek may have survived your commencement day, you would never know that our Propylaeum (reared by the women of our town in North Street, facing the pillared facade of the Blind Institute) became, on its completion in 1890, the centre of our intellectual and social life.

The club "papers" read under that roof constitute a literature all the nobler for the discretion that reserves it for atrabilious local criticism; the later editions of our _jeunesse doree_ have danced there and Boxed and Coxed as Dramatic Club stars on its stage.