In one of the most salubrious sections of Alaska there exists--or did exist in December, 1876--a society named "The Irreparables." It was composed of women only. For this there were several reasons. The subjects discussed were not supposed to interest men, but this might have been remedied had not the men, already in a minority in the village, absolutely refused to have anything to do with a society in which they were sure to be voted down without any very promising power of appeal. It was at one time suggested that they could become associate members, but the notary, upon examining their prospective position in the club, declared that their taxes would be so many and their rights so few that it was an offer not to be considered. So the matter was dropped, and an "Irreparable" was always a creature of the gentler sex. The most important event in the year to this society was its annual meeting and festive celebration in December. Upon this occasion the members reviewed their accounts, perhaps voted in a new member, acted upon delinquents, and, in a word, settled up the business of the year. The festivities sometimes took the shape of a mothers' meeting, a quilting-party or a cozy little tea. In 1876 they were, however, affected by the excitement that prevailed throughout the whole United States, and which fairly reached them in December. Alaska, it was true, was not one of the thirteen colonies, but neither was Ohio nor Colorado. It was much larger than Rhode Island or Delaware. It had great possibilities, and it had cost money, which was more than could be said of the original thirteen, leaving out Pennsylvania, which even then could not be counted as a very expensive investment on the part of Mr. Penn. These patriotic reasons fired the hearts of the "Irreparables," and they determined that Alaska should celebrate the Centennial of their country, and that the celebration should be theirs. Then the question arose of what nature this celebration should be. An Exposition was clearly out of the question, and even a school-fair was voted troublesome. Some of the younger members favored a dance, but this was objected to, because of the absurdity of a roomful of women waltzing and treading the light, fantastic German by themselves. It would seem, said the Baroness Contaletto, like a burlesque of merriment; and so the dance fell through. A service of song, a tea-drum, a cream-cornet, and a pound-party met the same fate; and finally all minds gently but firmly centred upon a dinner-party; and so it _was_ a dinner with courses.