f the battery came up to me, and, extending his hand, said: How do you do, General?
I shook him by the hand, but could not for the life of me recollect that I had ever seen him before.
Seeing that I failed to recognize him, he said: My name is Concklin.
I knew you at Sandusky, and used to know your wife well.
Still I could not remember him. You knew General Patterson?
Yes; I shall never forget her.
Do you recollect a stroll down to the bay shore one moonlight night?
Of course I remembered it. This was John Concklin, Mary's cousin.
I remembered very well how he devoted himself to one I felt considerable interest in, while his cousin Mary and I talked in a jocular way about the cost of housekeeping, both agreeing that it would require but a very small sum to set up such an establishment as our modest ambition demanded.
I was heartily glad to meet the young man. He looks very different from the smooth-faced boy of ten years ago. I was slightly