Our book-binding girl was a Methodist; and I do not mind telling you that I used to go to the Methodist church pretty often, and always sat in the gallery, that I might see her come in and go out. She frequented a little social organization, in which young men and women assembled for conversation, reading, singing, etc. I joined, although there was no other attraction than our queen. You may think it very strange, but I was never introduced to her; I never spoke with her. Indeed, I carefully avoided a personal acquaintance, lest a lack of intelligence and sentiment might break the charm of her peerless bearing. I think that nothing in any woman has ever more deeply impressed my imagination than that young woman's splendid mien. ANOTHER WOMAN WHO WALKED WELL. Calling upon a legal friend in a western city about twenty years ago, he asked me, while we were sitting at his front window,-- "Have you ever seen Mrs. W----e?" "No. Who is she? what is she?" "She is a remarkable woman." "Actress?" "No." "Singer?" "No." "Authoress?" "No." "Well, do tell me what she is remarkable for." "Oh, she walks well." "And is it so rare for a woman to walk well, in your city, that one who does, becomes famous?" "Ah, but when you see her walk, you won't ask that question. She walks splendidly; and what is very wonderful, she knows it; and, knowing it, what is perhaps still more wonderful, she walks a great deal. She generally goes down town about this time. If we keep watch, we shall see her." In a few minutes he exclaimed, "There she goes, there she goes!" "Indeed, and that is your wonderful Mrs. W----e? She don't handsome much. Eyes sunken, complexion dark, nose--well, her nose is preposterous, mouth coarse,--but, she does, yes, she does walk splendidly." I pushed out my head and watched her as she went down the street. STILL ANOTHER WOMAN WHO WALKED WELL. We arrived at the Morley House about two o'clock in the afternoon. It was my first visit to London. While in the dining-room, I made one of those table acquaintances so common among travellers. He asked:-- "Shall you visit one of the theatres this evening?" "I hadn't thought of it; what is there worth seeing?" "Have you ever seen Mrs. Charles Kean, Ellen Tree that was?" "No." "Well, you'd better go and see her. She is the finest walker I ever saw." "Glad you mentioned it. I shall certainly go." It was one of Shakspeare's plays. When Mrs. Kean came in, she walked across the stage two or three times before uttering a word. I never saw anything so perfectly grand! The play had then run a hundred and fifty nights. I afterward met several persons who had witnessed it more than twenty nights, and most of them mentioned Mrs. Kean's walking, as the great attraction. Girls, the Creator has not made you all handsome. He has not given you all fine faces, or noble proportions; but He has given every one of you the capacity to learn to walk well.