But I'm going to hate standing up in that photograph all alone with my only child, like any widower." "Alexander!" exclaimed momma at once.

"What a dreadful idea! I think I might be able to manage it." The photographer was there with his camera.

The guide marshalled us up to him, falling back now and then to bark at the heels of the lagging ones, and, with the assistance of a bench and an acacia, we were rapidly arranged, the short ones standing up, the tall ones sitting down, everyone assuming his most pleasing expression, and the Misses Bingham standing alone, apart, on the brink, looking on under an umbrella that seemed to protect them from intimate association with the democracy in any form.

We saw the guide approach them in gingerly inquiry, but, before simultaneous waves of their two black fans, he retired in disorder.

The bride had slipped her hand upon her husband's shoulder, just to mark his identity; the fat gentleman had removed his hat and hurriedly put it on again, and the photographer had gone under his curtain for the third time, when Mr.Hinkson of Iowa, who sat in a conspicuous cross-legged position in the foreground, drew from his pocket a handkerchief and spread it carefully out over one knee.