.

THE MORNING AFTER.
Colonel Sprowle's family arose late the next morning.

The fatigues and excitements of the evening and the preparation for it were followed by a natural collapse, of which somnolence was a leading symptom.

The sun shone into the window at a pretty well opened angle when the Colonel first found himself sufficiently awake to address his yet slumbering spouse.
"Sally!" said the Colonel, in a voice that was a little husky,--for he had finished off the evening with an extra glass or two of "Madary," and had a somewhat rusty and headachy sense of renewed existence, on greeting the rather advanced dawn,--"Sally!" "Take care o' them custard-cups! There they go!" Poor Mrs.Sprowle was fighting the party over in her dream; and as the visionary custard-cups crashed down through one lobe of her brain into another, she gave a start as if an inch of lightning from a quart Leyden jar had jumped into one of her knuckles with its sudden and lively poonk! "Sally!" said the Colonel,--"wake up, wake up.

What 'r' y' dreamin' abaout ?" Mrs.Sprowle raised herself, by a sort of spasm, sur son seant, as they say in France,--up on end, as we have it in New England.